seroh - Tumblr blog

[seroh]

oh the difficult debate between spending time writing a mediocre fanfiction i don't have time to devote to bc i need content asap; or downloading wattpad and reading mediocre fanfiction written by somebody else because i need content asap

[seroh]

curiosity killed the cat

atsumu, f.reader. angst.

words: 2K

tags: cheating, explicit mentions of sex, brief mention of an alcoholic dad.

notes: this one is a repost from my other blog. i edited a few things, but didn't change much. we're still in the cheaters era, but this time atsumu is the shitty boyfriend.

Ever since you were a child, just old enough that you understood the world around you but not enough to know what to do about it, you had been terrified of being cheated on. The idea of entrusting your heart and soul to someone, doing everything to keep theirs safe, only for them to add yours to a collection you didn't know they had was something that kept you up at night, trembling in deep-rooted anguish.

You blamed your father, as many did when something went wrong in their lives. The man who was meant to protect you, love you and care for you. The man that made you realize, at your short 11 years, that love was nothing but fickle. You still remembered the exact moment when you had this revelation. The date or day of the week you couldn't recall, but it was evening, which meant that your father was drunk out of his mind and yelling around the house about whatever little thing had set him off that day. Like it tended to happen, his yelling was eventually directed towards your mother, wild and unsubstantiated accusations slicing and stabbing her like daggers.

And you remembered thinking, hidden behind a wall and listening to every word, six simple words that shook your view on love: It takes one to know one. A replica of something you had heard your teacher say that very same day, although in a different circumstance. The words came to mind unprompted, and suddenly everything made sense. Why else would he accuse your mother, who was devoted to your home and family, of cheating if it wasn't out of fear of her doing the same things he did? She rarely left the suffocating walls of your house, and when she did it was only ever with her children in tow.

What is a young girl to do with such a revelation?

From that moment and for the rest of your life, it was a weight you carried everywhere you went, to know your father was willing to do that to the mother of his children, to you and your siblings. How could you trust other men wouldn't be the same if the first man of your life had betrayed that trust before it got the chance to be built? If not even having a family could stand in the way of his adultery, why would other men be loyal to one woman? You'd rather die than be like your mother, trapped for years in a relationship with someone who didn't know what being faithful was, till death do you part. Or until the truth hit you, crushed you, with the force of a boulder when you least expected it.

You'd heard horror stories, cautionary tales, about people in years, decades long relationships that seemed perfect in every way. Relationships where they respected each other's privacy with great care, where they were so trusting they would've never thought to breach that trust. Until one day one of them had a moment of weakness, and decided to check what could be so private that needed to be kept hidden from them. They all went in half expecting to find nothing, telling themselves they were being paranoid, only to realize their oh so loving partner had been having an affair for years, sometimes for the entirety of their relationship.

You refused to end up like that.

Instead, you let guilt eat you up every time you had the chance to get your hands on your boyfriend's phone without him realizing it. Each and every time you would hurriedly go through every app, every photo, every call and text you could find. You would sigh relieved when you proved to yourself you had nothing to fear. Then, you would erase the trace and leave the device back in its place.

It was a necessary evil, you believed. Sure, invading his privacy was far from okay, but you had convinced yourself that, at the end of the day, it didn't really matter. What mattered was that you left the phone feeling reassured and at ease. What mattered was that he had nothing to hide. It was a way of telling yourself, "see, there's nothing going on. You're just overthinking." A way to calm your fears. And as long as he didn't find out, and you didn't find anything, everything would be fine. You kept telling yourself that, in the grand scheme of things, if you actually found something incriminating, hiding an affair beat snooping through a phone in the race of bad things. And with that you squashed the guilt of not trusting Atsumu until it was nothing but a whisper.

At some point, going through his phone became a habit, more done out of boredom than actual suspicion or insecurity. So when you stepped out of the shower and out of the bathroom, and Atsumu was still singing under the warm water—he always took extremely long showers—your first instinct was to grab his phone. You got comfortable, made sure the towel on your hair wouldn't fall, and unlocked his phone with your fingerprint.

Almost with apathy, you looked through his photos app, from the images sent to him and by him, to the hidden folder and trash. You snapped a photo of yourself and set it as his background in case he caught you with his phone in your hand, and moved to the next app. There was nothing in his messages, nothing in his calls, nothing on his Instagram app, or anywhere else. As usual, he wasn't hiding anything. You smiled to yourself and let yourself sigh as you got more comfortable in bed.

Before you could lock the phone, your finger hovered over the Google app and a wave of unease crashed into you. You’d never really thought of checking his Google tabs. Without a second to spare, you clicked on it. All air left your lungs as an instagram account, one you didn't recognize, greeted you. Your eyes took in everything all at once: the profile picture, so unmistakably him; the name and last name, so obviously false; the description that displayed his location, age and relationship status—”single.”

As if in a trance, you uncovered every bit of information you could get. The women he followed, the ones he messaged sometimes, the ones he constantly talked to, his reactions to their posts and stories. Absolutely everything. You needed to know it all, craved to find it all. If it was there, you would find it… and there was so much to find. So many women he gave his attention to. Most only went that far, flirty conversations and maybe some pictures exchanged. There were a few, however, that were the last nails in your coffin.

That weekend-long work retreat he told you about? It was actually a trip to Kyoto with another woman. Working overtime every now and then? Actually fucking a plethora of women. In cheap hotels, in their apartments, in god damn parties and events with his colleagues, the ones that knew you and treated you so kindly. His best buddy's birthday party that you weren't allowed to attend because it was men only? Two women. He hooked up with two women there, and then proceeded to talk to them about how hot it had been, how he couldn't wait to put his hands on them again, how each one was the best he ever had. It seemed they didn't know about each other either.

The absolute worst discovery came in the form of his coworker, a manager assistant. Ever so sweet at team events, always so eager to make you feel included. Always so eager to sneak behind your back to suck your boyfriend’s dick and get fucked in your bed. That is, apparently, when they even made it behind closed doors instead of just going at it on his back seat.

You found out you had almost caught them once. In their latest conversation, they made fun of how oblivious you were to the mess in the room, so obviously telling of what had been going on prior to your arrival. You remembered now that Atsumu’s clothes had been thrown around carelessly throughout the room, his shirt waiting outside the bedroom door. His body had felt sticky with sweat when you hugged him, a faint smell of lavender lingering on his skin, on your bedsheets. You hadn’t even noticed anything weird. She had been hiding under your bed as you sat and told your boyfriend about your day before undressing on your way to the bathroom. And while you showered he finished fucking her on the floor before leading her outside, cum leaking on her panties and clothes untidy.

You stared at the screen, unsure of what to do, how to proceed. You had never, not once, thought you'd find something in his phone. Never. 

The sound of the shower cutting off took you out of your trance, and you hurried to close the tab, delete the apps history and connect the phone to his charger. By the time Atsumu walked in the room all dressed and ready for bed, you were combing and drying your hair.

It was hard to smile back at him. His grin no longer excited  the dormant butterflies in your stomach, now it stomped them and tore off their wings, cruel in its every move. How many women had he smiled to like that? It was hard to accept the kiss on your cheek. You trembled under his touch in what he mistook for delight, but was nothing but pure heartbreak. Had he kissed other women that way?

It was even harder to keep the tears at bay, to pretend you weren't falling down a spiral. Part of you thought you were doing a great job at hiding it. The other part thought Atsumu just didn't care. You didn't know which idea was worse.

"Babe, you done?" He mumbled from the bed as he scrolled through his phone. His eyes didn't even look up.

It took you a moment to unplug the hairdryer, too busy looking at the new smile splitting his lips. He was typing. What was he typing? Was he texting someone? Who was it? Were they flirting? Was he asking them the same things he asked you when he was pretending to want to know you better?

You opened your mouth to speak, a question tugging at your tongue. Instead you said a simple "yes." You turned off the light and dragged your feet to the table. Immediately, Atsumu deleted the tab he was on and locked his phone. He opened the blanket for you to jump in and welcomed you with warm arms and a kiss to the forehead. Tears threatened to leave your eyes.

The way your bodies curved into each other felt almost magical. As if that's how your bodies were meant to be, molded up against each other, basking in the shared warmth. His arms around you, legs tangled. Your head on his chest, his heartbeat against your ear. It was where you belonged.

It was also where all of those other women belonged. You weren't special or any different, just more of an idiot.

You found yourself smelling the sheets, looking for her scent and finding nothing but his biting cologne. It occurred to you that might be the reason why he always chose fragrances so strong, to drown out the perfume of his lovers.

With all the strength left in you, you stopped yourself from falling apart and buried yourself deeper in his arms. One last time, just one. You would allow yourself to enjoy your loving relationship for the last time. Once the sun rose and the skies cleared, you would pack your things and leave to never look back, but for the time being you would bask in his arms, delight yourself in the fact that you were in your shared apartment, your shared —and soiled— bed, wearing his clothes.

Tomorrow you could afford to lose it all, tonight you needed Atsumu to hold you tight just one last time.

SEROH 2024

[seroh]

i'm editing some atsumu angst from my previous blog. i'll repost it here maybe tomorrow or on Saturday.

[seroh]

i'm starting to think i should've changed the titles of something blue and something borrowed around. like, instead of the first part being called something blue, naming it something borrowed. and same with part two

[seroh]

I did not expect to read such amazing Suna angst when I woke up today. Best way I've started a morning this month! Your Something Old series is phenomenal😊

Also, could you tag me in the next part? I am very excited to see what happens next :)

i'm super super super happy to hear that. i'm quite proud of this series, so having someone tell me things like this really puts me in a good mood 🥹

also of course i can tag you in the next part!

[seroh]

writing fanfiction is just. i’m being so creative and original. i’m plagiarizing everyone by accident. i’m a genius. i’m cringe. i’m too angsty. i’m too cheesy. this is not in character. it doesn’t matter that it’s not in character because these are my characters now. i love my hobby. this is the worst possible use of my time. i’m seeking validation. i’m projecting my own personal problems onto this story and i’m barely hiding it. i know so many words and i’m using all of them wrong. im on tumblr posting about it instead of writing it.

[seroh]

you know who would be a good boyfriend?

choso.

that man gives everything for the people he loves, whether it's family or a significant other. he would move heaven and earth to make you happy.

you suddenly want chocolate in the middle of the night? he'll be out the door as soon as you say it and will comb through every store until he finds your favorite brand.

that new book you casually mention wanting to buy? it'll be waiting for you at home when you get from work.

you want cuddles? he'll stay hours in the most uncomfortable position just so that you can snuggle with him and nap comfortably.

birthdays, anniversaries and special days never go forgotten. he always has something planned to surprise you. a romantic dinner, a short trip to enjoy your company in privacy, a handmade gift made with such care and love it could melt your heart.

he's attentive to your needs, and will make sure you always feel loved. not a day goes by without him telling you how gorgeous you are, how amazing you are, how much he loves you.

there's nothing in this world he wouldn't do for you.

[seroh]

something old

suna, f.reader. angst.

in which suna is a cold-hearted cheater.

words: 1.4

notes: i figured it was time to see suna's point of view. spoilers alert: you will hate him even more.

something old | something borrowed | something blue

TAGLIST: @captainchrisstan @iknowhistouch3

Suna Rintaro was a simple man. What he wanted, he took. What he desired, he got. He didn’t deny himself the pleasures of life, didn’t pay any mind to the small obstacles in his way. He didn’t care if his wants and needs got in the way of someone else, didn’t care if anyone's heart broke. He'd lie and hide and pretend only to avoid being inconvenienced; and if you started doubting him, with a sweet smile he'd claim to be protecting you and your emotional little heart.

You got hurt by the littlest, most insignificant things and he just knew you'd react this way. You always blew things out of proportion, so of course he would be wary of telling you some things. You were so insecure and jealous over stupid things–he couldn't even say "hi" to his best friend without you overanalyzing the very look in his eyes. How could you expect him to trust someone like that?

He loved you. Could you blame him for trying to keep things nice and happy between you two?

He loved you, and he was tired of the nagging and fighting.

He said he loved you, and you fell for it every single time the same way you fell for it the very first time.

The words had slipped past his lips almost accidentally, that first night in October where he said he loved you. You had been ready to walk out of his life, questions of “what are we?” and “do you even care?” slicing the quiet evening he had hoped for. Suna hadn’t been ready to give you up just yet. It felt good, having you by his side, better than any woman’s company ever had, and he would’ve had to be a fool to let you walk out the door without doing anything to stop you.

His promises and feelings might have been real then, but with time he had come to resent you for the love you gave him and the love you expected back. With time, the rush and intensity of your love had become part of the monotonous backdrop for his newer adventures. 

Excitement, that’s all Suna cared for, and you had long ceased to become a source of it.

Still, there was something comforting in knowing that no matter what he said or did, you would always go back to him. Although “back” wasn’t the right word, he thought. For you to “go back” you would need to leave him first and Suna knew you never would. After all, it was you who bent over backwards trying to apologize whenever he messed up.

All it took to regain your trust were a few sweet gestures. Some flowers after an argument, chocolates when he said something harsh. Romantic dates and getaways when you started getting suspicious, maybe even a several-karat ring…

You had been so happy when he gave it to you, showing it off to anyone who wanted to hear about his oh so romantic proposal. Even on your wedding day, you couldn’t stop bragging about it. Earlier that day you had posted an image of your hands intertwined, your ring right in the spotlight, and the caption read “Today we finally make the promise a reality. I love you, Rin”

Haru laughed as she read it, making a show out of clutching her stomach and wiping non-existent tears out of the corners of her eyes. Your post was displayed on the screen, the little heart under it a bright red.

“Look at what she wrote. I can’t believe she’s so stupid.”

Suna chuckled but didn’t reply, too busy fighting with his tie to do so. Haru, her little act forgotten at the lack of attention, approached him from behind. Her eyes scanned his body. Her hands found their way to his back, his shoulder, his chest. Slow, intimate, her touch reached every part of his body and soul, reached in to bring his desires to the surface.

“Truly, Rin, I don’t know why you still bother with her,” she whispered against his back as her hands pulled his jacket off his shoulders. “You do nothing but complain about her.” Tenderly, she started pressing kisses on his back. “Why’d you have to propose to that… that bitch. Why do you even want her around?” The venom on her tongue was a stark contrast to her loving touch.

Haru slipped her hands inside his trousers as she spoke. An amused smile formed on her lips upon meeting his hard cock. Teasing words bubbled in her throat, yet she never uttered them. The bitter taste of where they were, and why they were there, was too much for her to put on a playful mask.

“Is this… Am I not enough?”

The room was quiet for a moment. Her voice had been so soft, so meek, she thought he might not have heard her. The fear of repeating herself was so strong she did not dare to do so. But her heartbeat, frenetic, must’ve surely given away the way she felt.

Suna turned around, eyes fiery with desire. His lips met hers with a burning passion, and Haru forgot about every doubt she had. He pulled her closer with strong hands, closer than she thought possible, and the little speech she had practiced to convince him to leave you was completely erased from her mind. Long-forgotten, along with the memory of every night she tried to get him to break up with you, every night he managed to turn the conversation around.

The thing was, Suna might not love you, but he didn’t love her either. Regardless of what he might say to her, Haru was still nothing more than another warm body in his bed. No matter how much she wanted to convince herself that she was better than you, more important to him than you, when all was said and done she was nothing to him. An object of his desire, something he wanted.

Like you, Haru mourned the love she would never get.

Like you, she built an armor around her heart out of Suna’s pretty lies.

Unlike you, she would never get the benefit of being shown off with pride.

All she had were furtive dates where nobody could see, stolen kisses in the dark, love confessions meant to be deleted. Meanwhile you, who couldn’t keep him away from her, who was naive enough to think of her as your friend… you got a big white wedding, hand-written vows, a ring to mark him as forever yours in everyone’s eyes.

Nevertheless, Haru liked to think he was hers and would always be, no matter how many big milestones your relationship hit. It was your wedding day, and your husband-to-be had his dick deep inside her. Suna was fucking her senseless, suit still on and trousers around his ankles, as you put on the beautiful dress your mother had gifted you. You were probably gushing about how wonderful and perfect he was, and all the while he was kissing her like a starved man.

You would never measure up to her. He would always go back into her arms.

A knock on the door came and someone called for the groom to make his way to the altar. It was time for the wedding. Suna yelled a strained “coming” and fucked her harder still, desperate to reach his release. Haru dug her nails on his back and whispered in his ear the dirtiest things she could muster, anything to push him closer. She knew every dirty trick to arouse him past delirium, and proved herself right when he moaned in her ear as his orgasm hit. Her own orgasm was pushed aside right that second.

“Thanks sweetheart, it was good.” Suna mumbled as he kissed her on her cheek, and just like that he left her all alone. He didn’t stay to hear the reply that would never come, didn’t even bother to help her wipe the cum off her thighs and cunt.

Later, he would kiss her hard in the men’s bathroom while you danced with your friends. He would mutter a half-assed apology before making her kneel on the dirty floor. Haru would have to fix her makeup after he came all over her face, while he left to play the role of the doting husband.

And you, none the wiser, would go on to believe he was the best boyfriend—the best husband—you could wish for.

SEROH 2024

[seroh]

I just read Something Old and my god Suna is such a huge asshole

I hope he and dumb cum hold whore suffer majorly karma!

I hope his whore found out that he was just using her as a Literally sex doll! And was never serious about her or their relationship whatsoever and she just wasted her time on man who never really loved her to begin with and got nothing to show for it.

I can’t wait for the next part! Keep up the good work

thank you so much 🥺

i'm really happy so many of you liked this story. i was kinda unsure of how this one had turned out but receiving asks like this makes me feel sorta validated? like my writing is actually good enough to inspire people to send asks and comment on it

not sure when next part is coming out, but i can tell you that we are getting a happy ending (and a not so happy ending for haru)

[seroh]

Hello! I'm in love with your writing! There's something so beautiful, poetic and delicate about the way you tell your stories. (I think I just inhaled all your hq fluff and angst posts, and the way you wrote Matsukawa stopping Hanamaki in Still Into You was just so powerful.) Suna is one of my absolute favourites and I'm loving the way you're making us despise him. 🤭 Thank you for sharing your work with us!

this is the nicest ask i've ever gotten 🥹

you have no idea how much this means to me, it's super super sweet. it's always a wonderful thing when people like your writing enough to send you messages about it. i, for one, feel encouraged to keep writing and trying my best to tell the stories i want to share

so thank you, really 💖

[seroh]

something old

suna, f.reader. angst.

in which suna is a cold-hearted cheater.

words: 1.4

notes: i figured it was time to see suna's point of view. spoilers alert: you will hate him even more.

something old | something borrowed | something blue

TAGLIST: @captainchrisstan @iknowhistouch3

Suna Rintaro was a simple man. What he wanted, he took. What he desired, he got. He didn’t deny himself the pleasures of life, didn’t pay any mind to the small obstacles in his way. He didn’t care if his wants and needs got in the way of someone else, didn’t care if anyone's heart broke. He'd lie and hide and pretend only to avoid being inconvenienced; and if you started doubting him, with a sweet smile he'd claim to be protecting you and your emotional little heart.

You got hurt by the littlest, most insignificant things and he just knew you'd react this way. You always blew things out of proportion, so of course he would be wary of telling you some things. You were so insecure and jealous over stupid things–he couldn't even say "hi" to his best friend without you overanalyzing the very look in his eyes. How could you expect him to trust someone like that?

He loved you. Could you blame him for trying to keep things nice and happy between you two?

He loved you, and he was tired of the nagging and fighting.

He said he loved you, and you fell for it every single time the same way you fell for it the very first time.

The words had slipped past his lips almost accidentally, that first night in October where he said he loved you. You had been ready to walk out of his life, questions of “what are we?” and “do you even care?” slicing the quiet evening he had hoped for. Suna hadn’t been ready to give you up just yet. It felt good, having you by his side, better than any woman’s company ever had, and he would’ve had to be a fool to let you walk out the door without doing anything to stop you.

His promises and feelings might have been real then, but with time he had come to resent you for the love you gave him and the love you expected back. With time, the rush and intensity of your love had become part of the monotonous backdrop for his newer adventures. 

Excitement, that’s all Suna cared for, and you had long ceased to become a source of it.

Still, there was something comforting in knowing that no matter what he said or did, you would always go back to him. Although “back” wasn’t the right word, he thought. For you to “go back” you would need to leave him first and Suna knew you never would. After all, it was you who bent over backwards trying to apologize whenever he messed up.

All it took to regain your trust were a few sweet gestures. Some flowers after an argument, chocolates when he said something harsh. Romantic dates and getaways when you started getting suspicious, maybe even a several-karat ring…

You had been so happy when he gave it to you, showing it off to anyone who wanted to hear about his oh so romantic proposal. Even on your wedding day, you couldn’t stop bragging about it. Earlier that day you had posted an image of your hands intertwined, your ring right in the spotlight, and the caption read “Today we finally make the promise a reality. I love you, Rin”

Haru laughed as she read it, making a show out of clutching her stomach and wiping non-existent tears out of the corners of her eyes. Your post was displayed on the screen, the little heart under it a bright red.

“Look at what she wrote. I can’t believe she’s so stupid.”

Suna chuckled but didn’t reply, too busy fighting with his tie to do so. Haru, her little act forgotten at the lack of attention, approached him from behind. Her eyes scanned his body. Her hands found their way to his back, his shoulder, his chest. Slow, intimate, her touch reached every part of his body and soul, reached in to bring his desires to the surface.

“Truly, Rin, I don’t know why you still bother with her,” she whispered against his back as her hands pulled his jacket off his shoulders. “You do nothing but complain about her.” Tenderly, she started pressing kisses on his back. “Why’d you have to propose to that… that bitch. Why do you even want her around?” The venom on her tongue was a stark contrast to her loving touch.

Haru slipped her hands inside his trousers as she spoke. An amused smile formed on her lips upon meeting his hard cock. Teasing words bubbled in her throat, yet she never uttered them. The bitter taste of where they were, and why they were there, was too much for her to put on a playful mask.

“Is this… Am I not enough?”

The room was quiet for a moment. Her voice had been so soft, so meek, she thought he might not have heard her. The fear of repeating herself was so strong she did not dare to do so. But her heartbeat, frenetic, must’ve surely given away the way she felt.

Suna turned around, eyes fiery with desire. His lips met hers with a burning passion, and Haru forgot about every doubt she had. He pulled her closer with strong hands, closer than she thought possible, and the little speech she had practiced to convince him to leave you was completely erased from her mind. Long-forgotten, along with the memory of every night she tried to get him to break up with you, every night he managed to turn the conversation around.

The thing was, Suna might not love you, but he didn’t love her either. Regardless of what he might say to her, Haru was still nothing more than another warm body in his bed. No matter how much she wanted to convince herself that she was better than you, more important to him than you, when all was said and done she was nothing to him. An object of his desire, something he wanted.

Like you, Haru mourned the love she would never get.

Like you, she built an armor around her heart out of Suna’s pretty lies.

Unlike you, she would never get the benefit of being shown off with pride.

All she had were furtive dates where nobody could see, stolen kisses in the dark, love confessions meant to be deleted. Meanwhile you, who couldn’t keep him away from her, who was naive enough to think of her as your friend… you got a big white wedding, hand-written vows, a ring to mark him as forever yours in everyone’s eyes.

Nevertheless, Haru liked to think he was hers and would always be, no matter how many big milestones your relationship hit. It was your wedding day, and your husband-to-be had his dick deep inside her. Suna was fucking her senseless, suit still on and trousers around his ankles, as you put on the beautiful dress your mother had gifted you. You were probably gushing about how wonderful and perfect he was, and all the while he was kissing her like a starved man.

You would never measure up to her. He would always go back into her arms.

A knock on the door came and someone called for the groom to make his way to the altar. It was time for the wedding. Suna yelled a strained “coming” and fucked her harder still, desperate to reach his release. Haru dug her nails on his back and whispered in his ear the dirtiest things she could muster, anything to push him closer. She knew every dirty trick to arouse him past delirium, and proved herself right when he moaned in her ear as his orgasm hit. Her own orgasm was pushed aside right that second.

“Thanks sweetheart, it was good.” Suna mumbled as he kissed her on her cheek, and just like that he left her all alone. He didn’t stay to hear the reply that would never come, didn’t even bother to help her wipe the cum off her thighs and cunt.

Later, he would kiss her hard in the men’s bathroom while you danced with your friends. He would mutter a half-assed apology before making her kneel on the dirty floor. Haru would have to fix her makeup after he came all over her face, while he left to play the role of the doting husband.

And you, none the wiser, would go on to believe he was the best boyfriend—the best husband—you could wish for.

SEROH 2024

[seroh]

if i have time to edit the ending, i might post something old today

[seroh]

;)

[seroh]

i'm going to let something old simmer for a couple more days. mainly because even though i technically finished writing it, i feel it lacks something and want to add more things to it.

but also because i have yet to start something new. i have the idea and plot ready, but i'm not sure where to start with it.

[seroh]

fandom creators always make choso look “blank” or “stoic” when he probably has the biggest range of expressions out of anybody in jjk

[seroh]

boy, oh boy... i have a feeling you guys won't be all too happy with something old

[seroh]

something borrowed

suna, f.reader. angst.

in which you find your husband cheating on you.

words: 1.2k

notes: i edited and rewrote a couple of minor things. this is also a sort of prequel to something blue

« something old (upcoming) | something borrowed | something blue |

What is love?

The question as old as time was always present in your mind. It sneaked its head in your happiest of days, when Suna’s love and devotion overflowed from every nook and cranny of his heart. Days where he would hold you as softly as if he had the entirety of the universe, his universe, in his arms, as if he was afraid he could tear you to pieces if he squeezed too hard.

A magical cure to all ailments, that was what love was to you. And since your wedding it seemed like you had a never-ending supply of this elixir. For every patch in your relationship, every bump in the road, you were ready to care for the wound until your love left it as good as if it had never happened.

Love conquers all, right? So how much of a loving wife could you be if you genuinely got upset that your husband had to go on a work retreat the exact weekend you had planned for a romantic getaway? At least that’s what you kept telling yourself on the drive to your parents house, your conversation with Suna replaying over and obsessively again.

You had been planning the surprise for weeks now. Looking for the most romantic hotel, with the most beautiful views; making sure everything in the house was taken care of; arranging for your pets to be looked after by your sister; hurriedly finishing every work project you had so that no distractions could ruin your trip. All for him to sigh and say:

“Oh honey, this is lovely but…” he looked around the room, avoiding your eyes, “I have a work retreat this weekend. A mandatory work retreat.” Your happy expression had fallen in an instant, his had seemed to grow more regretful by the word. “I can’t get out of it, and I just found out this morning.”

Oh, was the only thing you had been able to say, and trying to look anything but disappointed you had nodded and wished him good luck.

“You could go with your mom! She hasn’t traveled in ages.” He had suggested, and to your suggestion of just canceling the reservations he had said, “come on, don’t be like that. It’s not my fault that something came up at work. Don’t make me feel like the bad guy.”

Guilt had immediately found a home in your heart, and so there you were, on your way to your parents house with your suitcase in the backseat. There was a part of you that felt… uneasy about the trip. No, that wasn’t it. Why would you feel uneasy? It was simply the lingering disappointment of not being able to go with your husband; but you were going with your mother, so you would still have fun. It had been a while since you had spent more than a few hours with her, so this trip would be great regardless of Suna’s absence.

Of course you’d have to call the hotel and see if you could change rooms, seeing as the one you had booked was to be prepared for newlyweds and not a mother and daughter. And maybe some of the services you had asked for too, like romantic dinner with a view of the ocean, or couple's yoga. Your mom would enjoy the wine tasting one, so you could still do that, but you'd have to cancel the honeymoon package that was to be sent to the room. There were some things no mother should know about her daughter, and that box was full of them.

Another sigh, longer this time. Maybe you should just ignore Suna, turn around and go back home. You could spend what was meant to be a romantic and passionate long weekend all alone, with nothing but movies to entertain you. You had really been looking forward to going there with Suna. The hotel was so perfect for the two of you, completely catered to couples and set in a beautiful place. 

There was no way you could go there with your mother. Your parents would appreciate the views more than you would at the moment. Although you'd still have to cancel the honeymoon package.

Love—such a wonderful thing. All beauty and happiness and passion, even after the worst storms. Love could weave colorful, idyllic memories that would forever be ingrained in your brain. It could build peace where there was once war.

It’s a dangerous thing, love. It blinds you to the worst in people, makes it seem all good. It certainly blinded you to your husband’s shortcomings. But love is as frail as it is wonderful, and all it took was a brief moment to shatter its illusion. 

Just an hour prior, you were planning a surprise for Suna’s return, something that showed you weren’t bitter or resentful after he bailed on you. Now, back home, with your feet glued to the doorway to your bedroom, you felt nothing but betrayed.

Suna was home, not in some work retreat, not with his teammates. He was home, and he was with Haru in your bed. It wouldn't have been a problem, after all with the years you had come to consider her a close friend as well, and you knew they used to have sleepovers every once in a while. Sleepovers that, you realized now, were far less innocent than Suna let on.

You stepped closer to the bed as he, asleep and unaware of your presence, cuddled closer to the woman next to him. You followed the trail of their naked bodies with the morbidity of someone who witnessed a terrible accident— horrified yet unable to look away. Their feet and legs were tangled together. Bodies pressed so close you couldn’t tell which arm belonged to who.. His arms wrapped protectively around her. His face looked so peaceful, so blissful. Hers looked pleased. 

Her eyes stared back at you. Proud, arrogant.

As if burned by her gleeful stare, you took a step back. And then another, and another, before turning around and running out the door, slamming it behind you. For a second the room around you seemed to fade and you had to lean against the wall.

Tears fell down your cheeks like rain in a storm. Fierce and nonstop they flooded your heart, carried sorrow and anguish to every corner of your body and soul. There was no mercy, no truce, no warm hand to wipe them away. Only the promise of more pain.

“What?!” A yell came from the bedroom. It was followed by the sound of someone falling and hurried steps.

You lit up, as if by instinct, at the thought of him coming for you, only to recoil at the hundreds of excuses or ways he would surely find to blame you for his affair. And she would be there while he did so, grinning as if she had just won the lottery. As if your suffering was her favorite show. You couldn’t face him, not now, not with her perched on his shoulder like a demon, whispering in his ear, encouraging him to be cruel and crush you until you were nothing but dust.

Faintly, you heard Suna call after you as you ran away. There was desperation in his tone, or maybe it was anger, and yet he never chased after you. He let you fade away from his life without a fight. And then he went back into her arms, unfazed by your aching heart.

SEROH 2024