#but all the ones i found were very simple

[gojoluvs]

Forever yours

⤿ Satoru Gojo x reader

Summary, The only reason why you even agreed to marry him was for your father. Now you wish you could go back in time and reject the offer.

Warning/ tags; angst, profanity, smoking, cursing, smut, cheating, mean gojo, emotional trauma, manipulation, gaslighting.

Genre; angst, cheating, infidelity, jik, Gojou x reader. Arranged marriage au! very ooc Gojo, Mean Gojo! CEO Gojo!

Notes: the tag-list is closed!! Ive reached the limit to tag anyone else :c. also sorry for the spelling errors / didn't catch :(

12k words

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Satoru sat across from his father, nervously fidgeting in his seat.

His father's stern gaze made him feel like a child again, and he was afraid of what was to come.

You, sitting next to him, could feel his tension radiating off of him. Your own emotions were mixed - anger, betrayal, and hurt all bubbling inside of you. But you did your best to remain calm and composed, even though the sight of your husband made your blood boil.

Placing a hand on your thigh, your husband's touch made you flinch. You quickly smacked his hand away, avoiding any contact with him. You made eye contact with him, your eyes displaying disgust and anger. How could he still try to touch you after what he did?

Smiling at his father, you tried to put on a facade of normalcy. You couldn't let his family know the truth about his infidelity. You grabbed a fork, trying to keep your hands busy and avoid any more unwanted physical contact.

But his father didn't seem to notice the tension between you and your husband. "So Y/N, how's my son treating you?" he asked with a smile. For a split second, your eyes traveled to your husband, who looked like he was going through it.

His eyebags were noticeably darker than before and his hair was a mess. It was clear that he was not doing well since you found out about his affair.

You hadn't been talking to him, sleeping in the guest bedroom ever since you caught him in the office with his lover. Memories of how heartbroken you were resurfaced, your stomach churning at the thought. You couldn't even look at him without feeling a mix of anger, hurt, and betrayal.

It was difficult being in the same room as your husband, knowing what he had done. You couldn't stand the sight of him, yet you had to put on a brave face for his family. It was exhausting, but you were determined to keep up appearances and not let anyone know the truth.

You smiled at his father, "Mm, he's been treating me okay," you said, stabbing the meat on your plate with your fork. You glanced over at Satoru, trying to gauge his reaction. His jawline was visibly tense, and his eyes refused to meet yours.

"Just okay? I expected him to treat you like royalty," his father chuckled, a knowing glint in his eye. You felt a nervous flutter in your stomach, unsure of how to respond.

But before you could say anything, Satoru's pleading look caught your attention. It was a look you had never seen before, and for a brief moment, you felt a twinge of pity.

But you quickly pushed it aside, determined not to let Satoru's pleading sway you. "He's doing just fine," you said, your tone firm. You reached for your glass of wine, taking a sip and letting the exquisite taste wash over your tongue. The wine was smooth and rich, a perfect complement to the delicious meal.

"I'm surprised you haven't produced an heir yet, any reason why?" His father said, his eyes narrowing as he looked at Satoru. The wrinkles on his forehead seemed to pop out more in his disapproval.

You, dressed in a stunning black mermaid evening dress with a white bottom hem, glanced at your husband who was wearing a simple black suit.

His hair was slightly messy from the argument you both had before coming to the event.

“There should be one soon," you replied with a forced smile, trying to change the subject.

You knew your husband was struggling, both emotionally and physically, but you couldn't bring yourself to comfort him. The tension between the two of you was palpable, and the constant arguing was taking its toll on both of you.

You glanced over at Satoru, his face pale and gaunt, his eyes filled with exhaustion and sadness. He looked like an absolute mess, and you couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy for him. But at the same time, you couldn't forgive him for what he did. You had been fighting for days about his affair with his lover, Jiyuu. The betrayal and hurt were still fresh in your mind.

As you took a bite of your food, you couldn't help but feel a sense of numbness. You had been going through daily treatments with Shoko, trying to conceive a child for the past few weeks. But you couldn't bring yourself to be intimate with Satoru anymore. The trust between you had been shattered, and you couldn't forget the pain he had caused you.

Despite his constant pleas and apologies, you had both agreed on getting a divorce after having his child. It was fulfilling his father's last wish and finally being able to be free from this broken marriage.

As you sat there in silence, you knew that this was the end of your relationship. The only thing holding you together now was the promise of a child, but even that couldn't repair the damage that had been done.

You had been trying to have a serious conversation with him for days now, but he seemed to always be lost in his own thoughts. He had been distant lately, always staying up late at night and drinking alone in the kitchen.

You couldn't help but wonder if he was having nightmares again. You knew he had been struggling with them for a while now, but he never wanted to talk about it. You wanted to help him, but it was hard to do so when you felt like he didn't even care about you anymore.

Your mind drifted back to the day you found out about his affair with his secretary. You were at the doctor's office, heart broken at the news when you saw them together. Your heart shattered into a million pieces as you realized that he didn't care about your feelings or your marriage.

You knew he was going through a lot, but at the same time, you couldn't shake off the resentment and betrayal you felt towards him. You were going to speak up, to finally confront him about everything, but then you stopped yourself. Why should you even care? He certainly didn't care about your feelings when he was cheating on you.

However, Satoru's stepmother chimed in, clearing her throat to get everyone's attention.

"Well, my son Yuta will be graduating high school soon, would you both perhaps like to attend the ceremony?" Satoru's stepmother beamed at you, her hand gently caressing her son's cheek as he sat next to her.

The boy was young, with slight eyebags, but definitely took after his mother. You could see the resemblance in their features and the way they both smiled. Before you could even respond, Satoru cut you off, his voice dripping with anger.

"We're not going to fucking attend a random's graduation," he spat, slamming his fork down on the table. You turned to look at him, taken aback by his sudden outburst.

"Why not?" his stepmother asked, her smile fading.

"Because it's pointless," Satoru retorted, his tone harsh. "I don't care about some kid I barely know graduating. And neither should you, Y/N.”

Satoru's words hung in the air, filled with resentment and anger towards his father and his new family. You could sense the tension in the room and felt uncomfortable being caught in the middle of it.

This was not the first time Satoru had expressed his dislike for his stepmother and her son, and it was clear he resented his father for moving on and starting a new family while neglecting his own son.

"Watch your language Satoru," his father scolded, his tone sharp and his eyes narrowed in disapproval. The tension in the air was thick and uncomfortable, making Satoru squirm in his seat. He could feel his father's disappointment like a weight on his shoulders, and it only fueled his anger.

"No, I don't understand why you want us to come to your stepson's graduation when you never even attended mine," Satoru's jaw clenched and his eyebrows furrowed in frustration.

"You never cared about me or mom and now you want to become a loving father for a kid who's not even yours?" He scoffed, the bitterness evident in his voice. "It's all for show, isn't it? Trying to make yourself look like a good father when you never gave a damn about me."

His father's expression hardened, his lips pressed into a thin line. "Don't you dare talk to me like that, boy."

"Why not? It's the truth," Satoru shot back, his voice rising in anger. "You never cared about me, and now you want me to pretend like we're a happy family? I'm tired of this charade."

"You will attend the graduation and show your brother the respect he deserves," his father's tone was cold and authoritative. "Or else."

Satoru let out a bitter laugh. "Or else what? You'll disown me like you did before? I don't give a damn about you or your new family. I won't be a part of your lies anymore." He stood up, his hands trembling with anger.

"You ungrateful brat," his father spat, his face turning red with rage. "I should have never taken you in. You're just like your mother, always causing trouble."

Satoru's fists clenched at his sides, his whole body shaking with rage. "I'm nothing like her. And I never want to see you or your sorry excuse for a family again." With that, he stormed out of the room, leaving his father speechless and seething with anger.

His father stood up, throwing his napkin on the table he followed Satoru. You sat there in disbelief in what just happened. His stepmother, also having the same face as you.

Sitting in silence you could hear your husband argue with his father, swallowing heavily you got up. “Im sorry,” You grabbed your purse and Satoru’s phone, pushing the seat back in the step mom followed you out to the hallway. You furrowed your eyebrows, trying to find your husband who was nowhere to be seen.

Your heart ached for him after what he said to his father. He looked like he was about to break down and this wasn’t making it any better. You jolted in surprise as satoru’s stepmother stood in front of you, a look if pity in her face.

"Let them talk, please," she said calmly, her eyes softening as she pulled your arm towards a nearby room. You followed her, feeling a mix of confusion and curiosity.

She slammed the door behind you, shutting out the sound of the ongoing argument in the other room. You could still hear muffled voices, but they sounded distant now. The woman quickly made her way to a cabinet, her hands moving frantically as she searched for something.

You stood there, unsure of what to do or say. Suddenly, the arguing stopped and everything went silent. The woman turned to face you, holding a small and soft box in her hands. It was shaped like a rectangle and looked delicate.

She walked towards you, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor. "I want you to have this," she said, her voice gentle yet determined.

You stood in the doorway, unsure of what to do or say. You stared back at Satoru's stepmom, her eyes filled with a mix of sadness and hope. She extended the box towards you, her hand trembling slightly.

You could feel the weight of the box in your hand as she placed it gently in your palm. The soft material of the box felt cool against your skin. You couldn't help but feel confused as to why she was giving you a random box. But her words echoed in your mind, "Please, open it."

As you slowly opened the box, your eyes widened in amazement. Inside was the most beautiful pearl necklace you had ever seen. The lustrous pearls reflected the light of the room, creating a mesmerizing effect. For a brief moment, you forgot about everything else as you stared at the necklace in awe.

You looked back up at Satoru's stepmom, wanting to ask her why she was giving them to you. But before you could say anything, she spoke. "I want you to have them," she said, her voice filled with emotion.

You looked back up at Satoru's stepmother, who was now looking at you with tears in her eyes. "These were Satoru's birth mother's pearls," she explained, her voice shaking with emotion. "I want you to have them." You were taken aback by her words and felt a lump form in your throat.

Without another thought, you extended your arms towards her, offering to return the necklace. But she shook her head, her tears now falling freely. "I couldn't possibly," you said, your voice cracking. You looked at her, unsure of what to do.

She sighed, her eyes filled with guilt as she spoke. "I used to be one of her best friends," she said, her voice strained with emotion. "And every time I see you," she paused, taking a step closer and placing a hand on your cheek, "you just remind me of her so much." Her eyes brimmed with tears, her voice breaking with each word.

You were utterly confused. He married his ex-wife's best friend? Slowly, you began walking towards the door, trying to process everything that was being said. Her comment still lingered in your mind - just like Satoru's mother? What did that mean?

As you reached for the doorknob, you couldn't help but feel a wave of confusion wash over you. What the hell was this lady talking about? Who was Satoru's mother and what did she have to do with you? You couldn't wrap your head around it, but one thing was for sure - something was definitely off about this situation.

You opened the door, shoving the pearl necklace into your purse, not caring if the stepmother followed you. The tension between the two of you had reached its breaking point, and you just wanted to escape. As you walked through the house, you noticed how quiet it was.

Your heart started to race as you called out for your husband, Satoru. But there was no response.

Your mind started to race with worry as you frantically searched every corner of the house, your anxiety growing with each passing moment. Where could he be? Panic started to rise in your chest as you thought about all the possibilities. You wanted to go home, to your own safe haven where everything was familiar.

As you placed a hand on your head, you felt a wave of exhaustion wash over you. The stress and fear were taking a toll on your body, and you wanted nothing more than to curl up in your own bed. But as you furrowed your brow in pain, you realized that you might not make it home.

You wanted to throw up badly, the overwhelming emotions and physical symptoms becoming too much to handle. You were desperate for answers, for your husband to appear and make everything okay.

But for now, all you could do was try to hold it together and wait for him to return.

As you walked towards the end of the hall, you couldn't help but feel a sense of dread wash over you. You turned around to see Satoru, your husband, pinned to the wall by his father. His father had a tight grip on the collar of his shirt, and Satoru's face was covered in blood. His hair was a mess and his clothes were torn.

Your heart raced as you saw the rage on his father's face. This was something you had never seen before. You could hear Satoru's strained breathing as his father continued to yell at him. Without a second thought, you sprinted towards them, pushing his father off of Satoru.

Your eyes narrowed at his father, your own anger rising. You turned to Satoru, who was slumped against the wall, unable to even hold his head up.

His eyes were unfocused and his breathing was shallow. Your hands trembled as you reached for his face, lifting it gently to make eye contact with his blue eyes that were void of any emotion.

You could see the pain and exhaustion in his face, and your heart broke for him. You wiped away some of the blood from his mouth with your thumb, the sight making tears prick at your eyes. "Are you okay?" you asked, your voice trembling with worry. You wanted nothing more than to take away his pain and make everything right again.

He didn't respond at first, his eyes still distant and void of emotion. But then, he slowly nodded his head, his voice barely above a whisper, "I'm fine."

As you held Satoru's face in your hands, you could see the pain and fear in his eyes. His father had always been strict, but you had never seen him act with such violence towards his own son. "What did you do to him?" you demanded, turning to face the man who had raised your husband.

"He disrespected me and our family name," his father growled, his eyes still filled with anger. "He needs to learn his place."

"He disrespected you?" you scoffed. "You're the one who's been disrespecting him for years. Treating him like he's nothing."

His father's face twisted into a sneer. "You don't understand. He's a disgrace to our family name. He's weak and worthless. He deserves to be taught a lesson."

You bristled at his words, feeling your own anger rise. "How can you say that about your own son? He's your flesh and blood, and you treat him like he's nothing. It's no wonder he's become distant and withdrawn."

His father's eyes flashed with fury. "He's a failure, just like his mother. I won't have him dragging our family name through the mud.

"You're the one who's dragging it through the mud," you retorted, stepping between him and Satoru's form. "You're the one who's so consumed with pride and tradition that you can't see the pain you're causing your own son."

"You will not speak to me that way," his father growled, his hand raised threateningly.

"I will speak to you however I see fit," you replied, your voice shaking with anger. You grabbed your husband making your way out of the house.

You grabbed the small cotton ball from the first aid kit and carefully dabbed it with alcohol, making sure to disinfect it before bringing it up to your husband's cut lip.

He winced and hissed in pain as you gently dabbed the wound, his breathing becoming more labored. His shirt was nowhere to be seen, most likely discarded in a fit of frustration or ripped in the heat of the moment.

You rolled your eyes at his overreaction and continued to clean the cut. Your husband stared at you, his intense blue eyes practically piercing your soul. The bathroom light shone on his face, making his features stand out even more as he sat on the counter, towering over you.

Despite the tension and discomfort, you couldn't help but appreciate his handsome features and the way his eyes softened as he looked at you.

His eyes scanned your face, taking in every detail with a mix of pain and regret. His chest rose and fell with each labored breath, and his voice was barely above a whisper as he spoke.

"I'm sorry," he said, his eyes still locked on yours. You couldn't help but scoff at his words, feeling a surge of anger and frustration rise within you.

"Why are you apologizing?" you asked, your voice laced with bitterness. Despite your feelings, you couldn't help but reach for the wet towel and dab at the blood stains on his pale skin. He looked like a mess, his hair disheveled and his face bruised.

"Y/N," he said, his voice trailing off as he reached for your hand. Your heart skipped a beat at his touch, his warm fingers wrapping around your arm.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked, his grip on your waist tightening. "You know I hate you and yet you still try to make this marriage work."

You narrowed your eyes at him, feeling a mix of anger and confusion. "I don't know," you admitted, your voice softening as you met his gaze. "Can you please stop moving before I give you another bruise?"

He nodded, a small smile curling onto his lips as he allowed you to tend to his wounds. His eyes never left yours, and for a moment, you both were lost in each other's gaze.

As you pushed his white hair back and rubbed the blood off his face, you couldn't help but feel a sense of familiarity and longing. Despite everything, there was still a part of you that cared for him, that wanted things to work out between you.

"Thank you," he said softly, his voice filled with sincerity. "For taking care of me, even though I don't deserve it."

You swallowed hard, trying to push down the lump in your throat. "I'm doing it because it's my job," you replied, trying to sound cold and distant. But deep down, you knew it was more than that.

He reached out and brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch sending shivers down your spine. "No, you're doing it because you still care," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You pulled away, trying to ignore the flutter in your stomach. "I don't care," you said, your voice betraying you.

He chuckled softly, his hand still resting on your waist. "You can keep telling yourself that, but we both know the truth."

You didn't know how to respond to his question, so you just focused on cleaning his wounds.

The room was quiet except for the sound of the running water and your gentle movements as you tended to his injuries. You tried to ignore the way his touch was making you feel, but it was difficult as his eyes were soft and his lips pursed into a thin line, flinching with every dab of alcohol you put on his cuts.

As you worked, you couldn't help but notice that his body was slightly bruised up, but there were no cuts except on his face. His lips had a gash and the top of his eyebrow was also cut. You furrowed your eyebrows in concern, wondering what could have caused such injuries.

You continued to clean his wounds, your fingers gently tracing over his skin as you wiped away the blood. His breathing became harder and you could feel his fingers clenching your waist. You couldn't help but feel a sense of protectiveness towards him, wanting to ease his pain and make him feel better.

As you stood there in the dimly lit room, you could feel the weight of his body leaning onto you. His warm breath tickled your neck as he let out a heavy sigh, his forehead resting against your shoulder.

You couldn't help but notice the familiar scent of your perfume filling his nostrils, a scent he had always loved. You were taken aback by his sudden vulnerability, but you kept your composure and gently placed the wet towel onto your thighs before wrapping your arms around him.

Caressing his back you could feel the tension in his body slowly dissipating. His breathing became more steady and you could hear his staggered breaths. "I don't hate you Satou," you whispered softly, trying to reassure him.

"And I hate that I can't bring myself to hate you." You could feel his grip on you tighten as he leaned into your embrace.

Placing your arms on his head, you brought his face to yours. You could see the exhaustion and pain in his eyes, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for him.

"Even though you might be killing me," you continued, your voice barely above a whisper, "I still find myself waiting for you." You gently placed your palms on his cheeks, squishing his soft and pale skin between your fingers.

His eyes wandered all over your face, taking in every feature as if he wanted to remember every detail. You could see the guilt and remorse in his eyes, and it made your heart ache.

He swallowed heavily, his adams apple jolting with the movement. "I'm so fucking sorry, Y/N," he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. Tears glistened in his eyes and his nose turned bright red, a sign that he was truly upset.

But you couldn't accept his apology, not after everything he had put you through. You lowered your gaze, grabbing a towel and gently dabbing it onto his bruised and cut face. He winced slightly at your touch, but you continued to tend to his injuries. It was a familiar routine, one that had become all too common in your arranged marriage.

But today was different. Today, he had finally shown some remorse for his actions. And yet, it was too little too late.

You had already made up your mind to ask for a divorce, tired of living in a loveless and abusive marriage. "I'm not going to accept your apology, Satoru," you said firmly, your voice tinged with sadness. You said softly, your eyes meeting his. "I can't keep living like this. I deserve better."

He watched you with his mouth closed, not saying a single word to you but rather admiring you under the bathroom light.

As you finished cleaning his face, you couldn't help but comment on his appearance. "Have you been sleeping? You look like shit," you said, worry evident in your tone.

You grabbed the towel, rinsing it and squeezing the blood off before using it to wipe his face one last time.

He sighed and backed away from you, taking the towel from your grip. He brought it up to his face and rubbed it, his face now cleaner than before. You couldn't help but notice the tension in his jaw as he watched you, and you wondered what was going through his mind.

“Yes,” He said sighing he backed up from you, taking the towel away from your grip. He brought it up to his face and rubbed it, his face cleaner than before.

His usually bright eyes were now dull and his usually perfect hair was disheveled. You couldn't let this continue, so you decided to confront him about it.

"Bullshit Satoru, I can see your eyebags getting worse everyday," you said firmly, propping yourself off the sink and approaching him. He followed you silently into your bedroom, looking slightly guilty.

You walked over to his closet and slowly opened the door, revealing a small room filled with his clothes and belongings. You reached in and pulled out one of his sleeping t-shirts, knowing it would be more comfortable for him. Turning off the lights and closing the door, you handed him the shirt.

But as you expected, he hesitated. "I can't put it on, my arms are kinda messed up right now," he said, giving you an awkward smile. You rolled your eyes and instructed him to put his hands up. With gentle and steady movements, you helped him put on the shirt, making sure not to cause him any pain.

Walking towards the door of the guest bedroom, your husband Satoru's voice stopped you in your tracks. You turned to look at him, his body already tucked under the covers and his face still bruised from the fight earlier.

Despite his injuries, he still managed to look cute, and you couldn't help but feel conflicted. "Goodnight Satoru," you said, trying to hide the hurt in your voice as you grabbed your nightgown from the other side of the bed.

But something in your husband's brain was telling him not to let you go just yet. "Y/N, wait," he called out softly, his hand reaching out towards you.

You hesitated, your hand on the doorknob, as you looked at him with a mix of emotions. "Please, sleep with me tonight," he pleaded, his voice filled with longing.

You scoffed, feeling a mix of anger and sadness at his request, but before you could open the door and leave, he spoke again. "I can only sleep when I know you're with me, so please," he begged, his voice slightly louder this time.

You let out a heavy sigh, feeling the weight of exhaustion and stress from the day. As you removed your dress, your hand instinctively went to your forehead, trying to massage away the tension. You changed into your comfortable nightgown and made your way to the bed, grateful for the warm and inviting covers waiting for you. Your husband, who had been sitting on the bed, gazed at you with concern in his eyes. You climbed into bed, facing him and oddly finding comfort in his presence.

You traced your finger gently over the cut on his cheek, a reminder of the fight he had with his father, and felt a rush of emotions flood through you. Despite the arranged marriage and the supposed hate between the two of you, there was an undeniable chemistry and attraction that simmered between your bodies.

Satoru's hand rested on your waist, his thumb gently caressing your skin, as he leaned in closer to you. You could feel his warm breath on your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

Without hesitation, you placed your hand on his face, feeling the roughness of his stubble against your palm. As your fingers traced his lips, he let out a low hiss, his eyes filled with hurt.

You could feel his warm breath on your neck as he nuzzled closer, his arms wrapping tightly around you. The scent of his cologne filled your senses, as you ran your fingers through his soft, white hair.

You could feel his heart beating against your chest, matching the rhythm of your own. “Goodnight toru,” You hugged him back just as tightly, cherishing this intimate moment between the two of you.

“Goodnight Y/N,” He mumbled his voice muffled against the skin of your neck.

The moon light shined against your face, his body deep into yours. You wanted to get up and leave once he fell asleep but for some reason you found yourself comforting him as he slept. Caressing his hair and tracing circles onto his back.

That familiar warmth of his filling your body. Waiting for a few minutes for him to fall asleep, you could hear that familiar sound of his breathing. The small snores coming from your husband, his breath calm.

The moonlight cast a peaceful glow on your husband's face as you lay in bed together. His body was intertwined with yours, and for a moment, you felt content.

But as his breathing slowed and he drifted off to sleep, you knew that this was just a temporary moment of comfort. You wanted to get up and leave, as you had done countless times before, but something held you back.

You gently stroked his hair and traced circles on his back, you couldn't help but feel a sense of sadness. You knew that once he woke up, he would go back to treating you with coldness and indifference. But for now, in this moment, you could pretend that everything was okay.

As you tried to get up from the bed, his grip tightened around you. "Don't go," he mumbled in his sleep. You froze, not knowing how to respond. He hated you, or at least that's what he had made you believe. But in this moment, as he held you close, it seemed like maybe there was a small part of him that cared.

And for the first time in a long time, you felt a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, things could change between the two of you. But for now, you would stay by his side, basking in the warmth of his body and the sound of his breathing, hoping that this moment would never end.

"Why do you do this to me?" you whispered, the words slipping out before you could stop them. He stirred, his eyes opening slightly as he looked at you with a mix of confusion and hurt.

"I don't understand why you treat me this way," you continued, tears welling up in your eyes. "I want to hate you, but I can't. And it's killing me."

He didn't say anything, but his grip on you tightened even more, pulling you closer to him. You could feel his heart beating against your chest, and in that moment, you knew that he felt something for you, even if he couldn't admit it.

"I'm sorry," he finally whispered, his voice barely audible. "I don't know how to be any different."

He didn't say anything, but his grip on you tightened even more, pulling you closer to him. You could feel his heart beating against your chest, and in that moment, you knew that he felt something for you, even if he couldn't admit it.

You couldn't help but feel a sense of sadness and longing as you looked at him, knowing that he hated you but also knowing that there was a part of him that was starting to love you. It was a complicated and painful situation, but you couldn't deny the feelings that were growing inside of you.

"I wish things were different," you said softly, your voice trembling with emotion. "I wish you could love me the way Im starting to love you."

He didn't respond, but you could see the pain in his eyes as he looked at you. You both knew that the situation was complicated and that there were no easy solutions. But in that moment, you felt a sense of hope that maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for the two of you to find a way to make it work.

Jiyuu couldn't help but giggle as she leaned in closer to the worker, placing her hand on his arm.

She couldn't help but notice how defined his muscles were, even though he was wearing a long sleeve shirt. She could practically see every contour and ripple of his muscles.

"Can you please ring that up for me?" She pouted her lips, giving him a flirtatious smile. The worker looked flustered but nodded quickly, taking the gorgeous chanel dress to the front of the store.

As she waited, Jiyuu sipped on the complimentary champagne, enjoying the luxurious atmosphere of the high-end boutique. Her heels clicked on the shiny marble floor as she browsed through racks of designer clothing, feeling like a celebrity.

She walked towards the cashier of the store, feeling a pang of jealousy and annoyance. Her friend, who was browsing through the coats, noticed her expression and raised an eyebrow.

"You know, I still can't comprehend how my Satoru is still with that bitch Y/N," she muttered, tilting her head to get a better look at her friend.

Her friend let out a giggle and said, "Maybe he's falling for her." She then proceeded to try on a coat and check herself out in the mirror. "And all your hard work to seduce him would have been for nothing."

Jiyuu rolled her eyes and grabbed a pair of shoes, calling for the worker to ring them up as well. "That's not funny," she bit her lip in frustration.

Ever since you caught Satoru and her together in the office, he had been acting distant and cold towards her. It was as if he was slipping away from her grasp.

"She can't even give him a child, meanwhile I'm here waiting for him to leave her," Jiyuu sighed, her frustration growing. Her friend could barely hold back her laughter at the situation.

As she paid for her items, Jiyuu couldn't help but feel anxious and worried about her relationship with Satoru. She knew she had to do something soon before it was too late.

The two women made their way through the busy streets of the city, the warm sun shining down on their faces. As they walked, they chatted about the latest gossip and news in their social circles. Suddenly, Jiyuu's friend turned to her with a sly smile.

"You know, if he does leave you. Why don't you just go for Y/N's ex?" she suggested. "I heard he's a well-known CEO...and quite the catch."

Jiyuu's eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Is that so?" she replied, her tone dripping with interest. Her friend nodded, her own excitement evident.

"There's going to be an event here tonight and I heard all the big names from Tokyo will be there. Including him."

"Do you know where?" she asked eagerly, her pace quickening. Her friend pulled out her phone and checked the event details.

Jiyuu's friend nodded, her eyes scanning the street for any familiar faces. "Yeah, it's at the Mori Art Museum in Roppongi. You should come with me, we can scope out the competition and maybe even catch a glimpse of the elusive ex-boyfriend."

Jiyuu's heart raced with excitement at the thought of seeing her ex again, and potentially getting revenge by getting close to his rival

Jiyuu's heels clicked on the luxurious floor, a cup of wine in her hand. Her long brown hair was perfectly curled, cascading down her back. She wore a beautiful silk green dress and had recently splurged on a pair of Chanel heels, which adorned her feet with elegance.

As she walked through the art gallery, Jiyuu couldn't help but feel like all eyes were on her. She was the center of attention, the star of the show. She smiled and greeted everyone she passed, her eyes frantically searching for any sign of Toji or Satoru.

Taking a sip of her expensive wine, Jiyuu savored the taste and relished in the fact that only the wealthy could afford such a luxury at an art gallery. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and made her way towards her friend, who was wearing a stunning dark blue gown.

"Jiyuu!" her friend exclaimed, pulling her into a tight hug. "You look absolutely gorgeous tonight." She stepped back, admiring Jiyuu's outfit. "I mean, you always look gorgeous, but tonight you're on a whole other level."

Jiyuu laughed and thanked her friend, feeling a sense of pride and satisfaction at her appearance. But just as quickly, her friend's expression turned serious.

She turned around, as she pulled a man by her side, meeting he sight of a tall and broad-shouldered man. Her heart started to race as she fully took in his appearance - the dark, intense eyes that seemed to be staring right at her.

“Toji, meet Jiyuu, a friend of mine," her friend said with a smile before leaving the two of them alone to chat.

Jiyuu couldn't help but notice the scar on his lips, the way his black hair fell slightly in his face, and the overall intense aura he exuded. She couldn't deny it - he was undeniably hot. He smirked at her and grabbed her hand, bringing it to his lips for a kiss.

"Nice to meet you, Jiyuu," his deep, husky voice sent shivers down her spine as his adam's apple bobbed up and down with each word.

He was dressed in a sharp black tuxedo that showed off his well-built body. He practically towered over Jiyuu, making her feel small in comparison. "Nice to meet you too," she managed to say with a smile, unable to tear her gaze away from him.

As she finished her wine and placed the glass on a passing server's tray, she couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement at the thought of getting to know this intriguing man.

She cleared her throat and followed him around the gallery, her eyes scanning the various pieces of art. She couldn't help but feel a bit confused by some of them. "What do you think?" she asked, turning to look at his puzzled expression.

He looked absolutely baffled, as if he didn't know what was going on. "To be quite honest, it's a bit...shit," he said, turning to look at her with a slight smile on his face.

She couldn't help but giggle at his honesty. "It's okay if you don't know art that well," she reassured him, grabbing his arm and pulling him towards another painting. It was practically identical to the one they had just seen.

"This one's good, no?" she asked, batting her eyelashes at him. He stood there with his hands in his pockets, looking unimpressed. "No," he replied bluntly.

She couldn't contain her laughter as she led him to the next painting, already anticipating his reaction. It was a similar style to the first two, but she couldn't help but admire it. "What do you think of this one?" she asked, hoping he would appreciate it more than the others.

He looked at it for a few moments before finally nodding his head in approval. "I actually like this one," he admitted, surprising her.

As they continued to make their way through the gallery, she couldn't help but enjoy his honest and sometimes humorous commentary on the art. Despite their differing opinions, she was glad to have someone to share the experience with.

They sat down at the bar, ordering drinks and continuing their conversation. Jiyuu mentioned how she worked as a secretary and Toji talked about his job in finance. They both shared their dreams and aspirations, and Jiyuu couldn't help but feel drawn to Toji's passion and drive.

“You’re quite the comedian aren’t you?” She smiled sipping on her drink.

"I'm glad I can make you laugh," Toji replied, taking a sip of his drink. "It's just my way of making this stuffy art gallery a little more bearable."

Jiyuu laughed again, leaning against the bar. "Well, I appreciate it. I don't think I could have made it through this exhibit without you."

She stared at Toji her eyes scanning all over the mans fave and body. She felt goosebumps just by the way he was looking at her, like if she was his prey. “So what do you want in life Toji?”

Toji chuckled, looking down at his drink. " I think someone to share it with. Someone who's kind, loving, and understanding."

Jiyuu's heart skipped a beat as she saw an opportunity to make her move. "Well, I can definitely relate to that. I just want a loving husband who I can share my life with."

Toji's eyes met hers, a spark of interest in them. "Is that so? Well, I think we may have more in common than I thought."

Jiyuu smiled, feeling a sense of triumph. She knew she had Toji's attention now.

"Well, I do have a way with words," Toji replied, his mischievous smile never fading. "But I have to say, you're not so bad yourself."

She placed her hand on his arm, giving him a flirtatious smile. "Well, I can be that wife for you," she purred, hoping to spark some interest in him.

Toji chuckled, gently removing her hand from his arm. "As flattering as that is, Jiyuu, I think I'm just fine being single for now. But I appreciate the offer."

Jiyuu's smile faltered, but she quickly recovered and continued to flirt with him. As the night went on, she couldn't help but feel a bit guilty for using Toji in her plan to seduce him. But she pushed those thoughts aside, reminding herself that this was all for her own happiness.

And if Toji ended up being a part of that happiness, then it would all be worth it.

Just in the other side of the art gallery you had walked out of your car, your hand resting on Satoru’s arm. You were dressed in an exclusive Chanel 94' blue flowy dress, your hair styled up in a beautiful updo that perfectly complemented your outfit.

Satoru, your husband, walked beside you, his hand resting on your arm. Despite the obvious cut on his lip from the fight two days ago, he still looked dashing in his classic yet stylish suit. As you approached the front of the gallery, you could feel the stares and whispers of the people around you, admiring your elegant appearance.

Climbing up the stairs, you gripped onto Satoru's arm for support, not wanting to trip in your heels. The cameras were already flashing as you reached the top, the photographers eager to capture a picture of the power couple.

"Miss Gojo, please look over here," one of the photographers called out, and you turned towards the cameras, posing with your husband as they snapped away. It was the opening of a brand new art collection, designed by one of Satoru's friends.

As the cameras continued to flash, you couldn't help but lean your head on your husband's shoulder, feeling grateful for his presence by your side. You ignored the questions about his cut lip, not wanting to spoil such a special night.

Finally, you reached the entrance of the art gallery, and you immediately let go of Satoru's arm, earning a look of guilt in his eyes. But you simply smiled and walked inside, eager to see the beautiful art pieces that awaited you.

The art gallery was bustling with people, the air filled with the excited chatter of guests admiring the beautiful artwork on display. As you walked in, you couldn't help but pause and take in the stunning view of colorful paintings and sculptures adorning the walls and floors.

Your husband, Satoru, walked beside you, his arm securely around your waist as he guided you through the crowd.

The room was filled with soft lighting, casting a warm glow on the walls adorned with beautiful paintings. Each artwork was unique, showcasing different techniques and styles.

A familiar face popped up in the bustling crowd, causing a smile to immediately spread across your face. "Sukuna?" you asked, making your way over to him.

He turned to look at you, his red eyes scanning your face before returning the smile. "Y/N, it's nice to see you again," he said, his pink hair standing out even more in the dimly lit gallery.

"How have you been?" he asked, guiding you around the room as you caught up on each other's lives.

Meanwhile, your husband stood off to the side, watching you with a mix of curiosity and jealousy. Satoru narrowed his eyes, feeling a twinge of envy as he watched you smile and laugh with another man.

He couldn't quite explain why, but he couldn't shake off the feeling. Trying to distract himself, he grabbed a glass of wine and downed it in one gulp, feeling the liquid burn down his throat.

"Listen, I know you graduated from Columbia University," he said, his voice sincere. "And if you ever need a job in finance, I own a private equity and I would be delighted to have you work for me."

Your eyes sparkled with excitement at the thought of being able to go back to work. It had been a while since you had a steady job, and this opportunity was too good to pass up.

"Really?" you asked, your smile growing wider.

"Absolutely," he replied, his red eyes scanning your face. "I would be honored to have you as one of my associates."

A glimmer of hope shined in your eyes as you thought about the possibilities this job could bring. You thanked him profusely, feeling grateful for the offer.

"Well, I would be delighted," you said, a sense of relief washing over you. Suddenly, you felt someone's gaze on you and turned to see your significant other looking at you with pride and admiration. You smiled, grateful for their support and excited for this new opportunity in your career.

Satoru couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy as he watched you from the other side of the art gallery. His eyes never left you as you laughed and giggled, your chest rising and falling with each breath. Seeing you with Sukuna, his rival, made the pit of his stomach churn. He wanted to go over and steal you away, but he knew better than to interfere.

As you walked around the gallery, admiring the artwork, Satoru couldn't help but notice how your smile seemed to light up the room. It was a smile he had never seen directed at him before.

His icy blue eyes met yours, and for a moment, it felt like the two of you were the only ones in the room. But then you leaned in and whispered something to Sukuna, a genuine smile on your face. Satoru's jaw clenched as he watched the two of you, feeling a surge of possessiveness wash over him.

When you finally left Sukuna's side and walked into a separate room, Satoru couldn't resist following you. He wanted to know what had made you smile like that, what had made you whisper to Sukuna.

As you walked towards the room, your heels clicked on the polished wooden floor, adding a sense of elegance to the atmosphere. Your dress flowed gracefully behind you, catching the light as you moved.

Suddenly, you were approached by a waiter holding a tray of champagne glasses. "A drink Miss? Complimentary from the artist," he offered with a smile.

You declined politely, wanting to fully immerse yourself in the art. As you entered the room, you couldn't help but feel a sense of awe and wonder. The paintings seemed to come to life, drawing you in with their intricate details and vibrant colors.

You walked closer to each one, admiring the brushstrokes and composition. Your husband joined you, both of you silently taking in the beauty of the paintings. It was a truly magical experience, being surrounded by such incredible artwork.

As you stood in front of the painting, you couldn't help but feel drawn to it. The image of two people hugging, their faces obscured but their body language conveying a sense of tension and distance, captivated you. The soft, muted colors and smudged lines only added to the painting's allure, making it both mysterious and alluring.

You could feel his gaze on you, but you were too caught up in the painting to turn and meet his eyes. It was as if the painting had cast a spell on you, and you couldn't look away.

"It's nice, isn't it?" Satoru finally spoke, breaking the silence. You tore your gaze away from the painting to look at him, noticing the way his eyes sparkled as he watched you.

"It's beautiful," you replied, your hands dropping to your sides, just inches away from his.

You could feel the heat radiating off of his hand, as if he wanted to take yours and interlock your fingers with his. Your heart skipped a beat at the thought, but you pushed it away, knowing that you were both just admiring the painting together.

But as you looked at him, his chest rising and falling with each breath, you couldn't help but admire his own beauty.

"It seems so familiar to me," you said, tilting your head slightly as you studied the painting.

"Like if I was the one who painted this." Your hand brushed against Satoru's, and he immediately looked down at your hand, his eyes lingering there for a moment before meeting yours again.

His gaze was intense, and you could feel your heart rate quickening.

You were struck by how he didn't need to say a word to express his admiration for you. He simply took in your appearance, mesmerized by the way your eyes sparkled as they scanned the paintings in the room. As your hand interlocked with his, you were surprised to find that you didn't flinch at his touch.

Instead, your body seemed to naturally gravitate towards his, fitting together like puzzle pieces.

As you turned to face him, you couldn't help but notice the way he looked at you - like you were the only thing that mattered in the room. His hand tightened around yours, pulling you closer to him. You could feel his cold palm against your warm skin, sending shivers down your spine.

Lost in the intensity of his gaze, you barely registered as his free hand reached up to gently touch your face. His touch was electric, sending a jolt of excitement through your body. Without a word, you both stood there, taking each other in.

Finally, unable to resist any longer, you leaned your head against his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his body and the steady beat of his heart.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you closed your eyes and savored the moment, not wanting it to end. In that moment, nothing else mattered except the two of you, lost in each other's presence.

You were hesitant to let go as well, but you knew you needed to give him some space. As you stepped back, you couldn't help but smile at him, feeling the warmth of his embrace still lingering.

“Can you get me some water?" you asked, your voice soft and a little hoarse from talking all night. "I feel a bit parched." He nodded, understanding your request, and slipped away from your grasp.

As he left the room, you could hear the faint murmur of voices coming from the main gallery where everyone was gathered. You took a moment to catch your breath and calm your racing heart before joining them.

Turning a corner, he spotted his friend Kento, surrounded by a group of people who were admiring his artwork. Satoru greeted Kento with a smile, happy to see his friend doing well in the art world.

Approaching Kento, he couldn't help but smile at his friend's surprised expression. "Nanami!" he exclaimed, and they exchanged a warm hug.

"How are you, Satoru?" Kento asked, tucking his hands into his pants. "I'm doing good," Satoru replied, his excitement growing.

"Listen, I was wondering how much you're selling the 'J'adore' painting for." He licked his lips in anticipation, knowing that he needed to have this painting.

Kento chuckled and placed a hand on Satoru's shoulder, "Someone's already offered to buy it, but maybe there's another painting you'd like?" he suggested, scanning the room for another option.

But Satoru was determined to have the 'J'adore' painting. "Listen, whoever the person is paying for it, I'll triple their offer and pay it myself," he stated firmly, a determined look on his face.

But before Kento could respond, Satoru's gaze fell upon a familiar face at the bar. His smile faded as he watched his ex-girlfriend laughing and chatting with another man. He quickly excused himself from Kento's presence, his mind now occupied with thoughts of the past.

Satoru's face twisted in anger as he saw Jiyuu talking to Toji, another man. He couldn't believe she would betray him like this. "What the fuck are you doing here?" he spat, his eyes narrowing in confusion.

Jiyuu rolled her eyes, her attention still focused on Toji. "What, I can't come to these events anymore?" she retorted, ignoring Satoru's presence.

Fueled by disgust and rage, Satoru grabbed Jiyuu's arm and forcefully pulled her away from Toji. She snarled and tried to resist, but he was stronger.

He grabbed her by the arm and dragged her outside, away from the prying eyes of the people inside the gallery. His grip was tight and his face was twisted in disgust.

"What the fuck were you doing talking to him?" he spat, his voice full of anger. Jiyuu rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, a defensive stance she took whenever Satoru got like this. She looked at him with no emotion on her face, making Satoru even more mad.

"He's just a friend," she said, her brown hair slightly messy from their argument. She tried to explain, but Satoru was already past the point of listening.

"I don't care, we're done Jiyuu," he said, his eyes narrowing at her. Jiyuu felt like the world came crashing down on her, her eyes widening as her arms fell to her sides.

"What? Satoru-" she started, but he cut her off with a scoff.

"I said we're done Jiyuu. I'm done with you and I want you to never contact me again," he said, his tone final and cold. Jiyuu couldn't believe what she was hearing. After all they had been through, he was just throwing her away like she meant nothing to him.

"Staying with you after marrying Y/N was a mistake," he added, the words hitting Jiyuu like a punch to the gut.

Jiyuu's heart was pounding in her chest as she listened to Satoru's words. The man she loved, the one she had just married, was telling her that staying with her was a mistake. It felt like a punch to the gut, the words hitting her with a force she couldn't ignore.

Tears welled up in Jiyuu's eyes as she shook her head, desperately grasping at Satoru's arm to stop him from leaving. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. “Satoru, you don't know what you're talking about!" she cried out, her voice shaking with emotion. "She's manipulating you, can't you see that?"

But Satoru pulled his arm away from her, his expression hard and determined. "No, she actually listens to my problems and doesn't disregard my feelings. It's over, Jiyuu," he repeated, his words like a knife through her heart.

Tears streamed down Jiyuu's cheeks as she struggled to stay composed, her mind processing each word with agonizing slowness.

She shook her head again, unable to accept what was happening. "No, Satoru, I'm not letting you walk away from this, from me," she pleaded, her voice breaking with emotion.

Her hands came up to cover her mouth as she tried to stifle her sobs, but they escaped uncontrollably. It felt like her entire world was collapsing around her, and she couldn't do anything to stop it.

Her attention was immediately caught when she saw you walking outside, your face etched with confusion as you spotted her and Satoru standing face to face. Your eyes widened in disbelief as you realized it was your husband in front of you. “Satoru?”

He turned to look at you, his eyes softening as they met yours. But before he could say anything, Jiyuu appeared out of nowhere and sprung at him, her lips crashing onto your husband's. You stood there, completely baffled and shocked at what you were witnessing - your husband kissing another woman.

You felt sick to your stomach, wanting to throw up right then and there. The sight of your husband being unfaithful to you was enough to make your blood boil. You couldn't believe what was happening before your very eyes.

As Jiyuu pulled away from Satoru, you couldn't control your emotions any longer. With a clenched jaw and tears in your eyes, you stomped over to him and pushed him away from Jiyuu.

"Y/N, wait-" he started to say, but before he could finish, your hand connected with his cheek in a loud slap. His face turned to one of shock and surprise.

You bit your lip, trying to hold back your tears as you turned to Jiyuu and stared daggers at her. "I'll send you the divorce papers tomorrow," you said through gritted teeth.

"Have fun being with her, Satoru." And with that, you stormed off, leaving them both behind.

As you walked away, tears welled up in your eyes from the pain of being rejected and humiliated. Satoru, who had just been slapped by you, placed a hand on his red cheek and turned to look at her with disgust in his eyes.

"Don't you ever try talking to me or my wife again," he seethed, "or I will fucking make your life a living hell." His nose scrunched up angrily as he ran after you, leaving Jiyuu absolutely baffled and sobbing in the wake of his outburst.

Satoru ran after you calling your name out, the cold hair touching his face making him shiver, in the cold. “Y/N wait,” He said as he caught up to you standing in front of you.

You scoffed, shoving him out of your way as you stormed out of the elegant ballroom. Your heels clicked angrily on the smooth marble floor, the sound echoing through the grand space.

Tears threatened to fall from your beautiful eyes as you struggled to keep your composure. Satoru chased after you, begging for forgiveness and trying to explain himself, but you were too hurt and angry to listen. The elegant chandeliers above you seemed to mock you as you made your dramatic exit, the soft light reflecting off the tears that finally escaped and trailed down your cheeks.

The cold air hit you as you burst out of the building, the tears freezing on your cheeks. You could hear him calling out your name, but you didn't stop. You kept running, not wanting to face the reality of his lies.

With a sudden sense of urgency, he swiftly placed his hand on his tie and began undoing it, his eyes never leaving yours. "Y/N," he said, his voice laced with a mixture of determination and desperation. He grabbed your hand and turned you to face him, his eyes searching yours for a sign of understanding.

As you met his gaze, you could see one side of his cheek turning a bright shade of red, evidence of the slap you had just delivered moments ago. His chest was rising and falling rapidly, his heart seemingly ready to leap out of his chest. The tension between you was palpable, the air thick with the unspoken words and emotions that hung between you.

"Don't do this to me, don't you dare say anything," you pleaded, your voice shaking with emotion. Your heart was racing, your mind racing even faster as you tried to anticipate what he was going to say. He stood there, his gaze locked on you, watching your every move.

Your bottom lip quivered as you bit down on it, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over. Your hands trembled at your sides, your whole body tense with anticipation.

Despite your best efforts, a few tears escaped and rolled down your cheeks, smudging the makeup you had carefully applied earlier. But even with your makeup ruined, you still looked breathtakingly beautiful. He couldn't take his eyes off you, captivated by your vulnerability and your strength all at once.

"Y/N please, it's not what it looks like." Satoru pleaded, reaching out to grab your hand. But you pulled away, tears streaming down your face.

"It's never what it looks like, is it?" You sobbed, trying to compose yourself. "I told her to back off," Satoru insisted, pulling you closer and wiping away your tears with his thumb. His touch was soft and warm, but it did little to ease the pain in your heart.

"That's what you always say," you said, looking into his eyes. Those beautiful blue eyes that used to make your heart skip a beat. But now, they only filled you with anger and disappointment.

"I'm done pretending like every time I see you with him, it doesn't hurt me." Satoru's voice cracked as he grabbed your puffy face. "No, Satoru," you pushed him off, feeling a surge of anger. "I'm done pretending and trying to make this marriage work. It's always been her, hasn't it?"

Satoru's eyes fell to the ground, his guilt evident. "I should have known that what you said was a lie. It's always been her," you said, your voice shaking with emotion.

You picked up your dress and began walking towards the stairs, your heels clicking loudly on the concrete. Tears continued to fall down your face as you ran down the stairs, desperate to escape the pain and betrayal.

But just as you thought you were free, Satoru appeared in front of you, his eyes intense and his breaths heavy. "Do you know what you do to me, Y/N?" he asked, his voice laced with frustration and longing. "Do you think it's easy for me to see you with that man?"

He grabbed your hand and placed it on his chest, his heart beating wildly. You felt the heat radiating off his body, and you couldn't help but feel a flutter in your own chest. "Can't you feel it, Y/N?" he asked, his voice thick with emotion.

"Every time I see you, it's like a fire ignites inside me," he continued, his voice becoming even more strained. "A longing that only you can quench." You could see the raw emotion in his eyes, and your heart ached for him. "And when I'm away from you, it's like a part of me is missing." His words hit you like a ton of bricks, and you felt yourself getting lost in his gaze.

You bit your lip, unsure of how to respond. You could feel your heart beating so fast, and you could tell that Satoru was feeling the same way. In that moment, it was like the rest of the world faded away, leaving just the two of you standing there, caught up in your emotions.

A tense silence filled the air as you stood at the bottom of the stairs, looking up at your estranged husband. The memories of his betrayal still fresh in your mind, but a small part of you couldn't help but feel a spark of hope as he stood there, pleading for another chance.

You let out a bitter laugh, "And what? You expect me to believe you? You embarrassed me in front of everyone, and I still want a divorce." Your voice was laced with anger and hurt as you spoke, your eyes never leaving his face.

He took a step closer to you, his expression pleading. "I know I messed up, Y/N. But I want you. I can't let you go."

You shook your head, feeling a mix of emotions swirling inside you. "You can't just say that and expect everything to be okay," you retorted, turning away from him and starting to walk down the stairs. Your heart was heavy with conflicting feelings, but you knew you couldn't just forgive him and go back to how things were.

As you reached the bottom of the stairs, you spotted your ride home waiting for you. Relief washed over you, and you quickened your pace to get to the car. Opening the car door you let out a sigh.

But before you could even close the door, Satoru stopped it and pulled you out of the car. Your heart raced as he stood in front of you, his gaze intense and determined. "What the fuck are you doing, Satoru?" you yelled, pushing against his chest. "I said leave me alone!"

He didn't budge, his grip on your arms tightening. "I can't, Y/N. I won't let you go. I'll do anything to make things right between us." His words were filled with desperation and sincerity, and you could see the regret in his eyes.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions. "It's not that simple, Satoru. You broke my trust and our marriage.”

"I know this marriage was arranged, but damn it, Y/N, I'm starting to fall for you." You were taken aback by his confession, but before you could respond, his lips crashed onto yours in a heated kiss.

taglist; @allofffmypeaches @shycreatorsandwich @ryumurin @cloudsinthecosmos @4-everm-0-re @kurookinnie @bluebreadenthusiast @haurno @fouyumixuri @numblytemporary @spin-garden @oyaoya-bungeegum @we-loveebony @katteddie86 @mine-lu @rosso-seta @sunehry @lavender-hvze @ioveartfilm @kneesheee @chilichopsticks @muchlov3ashley @mystarlightswiftt @actualdeemon @hojoslutoru @polarbvnny @getoicious @bennysbunnies @h0neysiba @cyzvx @ropickle @tqd4455 @lineelilii @hypernovaxx @mo0nforme @liannele9 @erencvlt @mistyheart @mandysfanfics @fire-child-kira @c4rm1son @wntrei @chxrv @valleydoli @nuehoe @ichikanu @ssetsuka @crybabytoru @c4tzons4turn @97cityy

end notes; this chap after the leaks is gonna break my heart goodbye

[pumpkinbxtch]

hello baby!!! congrats and im so proud of ya, u deserve all of it fr fr 🤍🤍🤍

i wanted to request SOME OF DAYDREAMING for your event, about percy and obviously, daughter of hera reader. love love love you! do your magic sweetie 😚🫶🏻

hiiii, omg. thank youuuu! 🥹 and yeeeeah. so here we goooooo

✧⁠*⁠。SOME OF DAYDREAMING w' percy jackson and daughter of hera reader

Percy never knew he could find that kind of glorious and definitely heavenly love. He never knew it until he met you and nobody could take him away from you. Not even Hera, your mother. He didn't care much, to tell the truth.

For Percy you were his only church, the sacred place where he placed his faith and loyalty; the same that you lovingly guarded and faithfully respected. Both were perfect and just what Hera never found in Zeus: a loving and reciprocated relationship. You were crazy about each other that probably could dying in peace looking into each other's eyes.

The kind of love that usually takes most of your life to find. That luck had been given to you and Percy thought that he couldn't wait any longer to turning it into something serious.

When you finished dinner at the restaurant, he was amazed by the beauty of your simple person and you smiled with reddened cheeks. He intertwined your hand with his and huffed dramatically, making the hair that fell across his forehead flutter.

“please be mine” he dreamily begged and you raised your eyebrow clearly confused.

"but I'm yours, percy" you said and he kissed your hand with fervor. not needing anything else to take the little box out of his pocket and opening it before your eyes. You knew exactly what it was and you knew very well how he had come up with the idea of ​​giving you a promise ring.

"My mother," you said, shaking your head in amusement as he slid the ring onto your finger.

"Well, Lady Hera may have had the best idea in her eons of life. And one we can finally agree on."

“Pers…” He denied and interrupted you as politely as he could.

"Please" His eyes spoke for themselves and you laughed.

"I'm not saying no. I'm saying that rings I think we've been wearing for quite some time." He didn't seem surprised, in fact he acted as if you had only confirmed his thoughts.

He leaned over the table and with a charming smile reminded you for the thousandth time why you would never let him go.

"Oh, honey. I know. I just like the things that shine on you."

[jeongin-lvr]

OK ok, but yk that fic about jeongin and beomgyu? Now, imagine jeongin pulls the “I’m going on tour” card and your bestie beomgyu pulls up and reader can’t HELP but want some of that d and lil beomgyu gets revenge on jeongin girlfriendddddddd?

I love your brain mwah… for those interested this is the original ask :p

Jeongin didn’t like it but it had to be done; he had to leave for tour. It was only a few short months but to him it felt like an eternity, and he was sure that he’d die in that little span of time. He’d told you with his whole heart that you’re his even when he’s away, whispering late at night the few days before he had to leave that, well, he loves you but also that you’re forbidden from doing anything without him. And by anything he means touching yourself, even if you’re desperate. And you could tell by the stern dimness of his eyes that he meant it. “Don’t even think about it, baby,” Jeongin demands and for a second you pout, wondering what you’ll do when times get needy for you. Jeongin was strict, very, very strict. Honestly it was a little cruel but he was set in his ways. And if he says no touching yourself, he really fucking means it.

The thing about Jeongin is that he knows you too well— he knows when you’re needy and he definitely knows when you’re aching for him. So he wasn’t worried about anything like that. He knew that you were very obedient (most of the time) and you always managed to do as you were told. However, he had the complete opposite feeling toward his supposed best friend. The same man who spent hours yearning for you; groaning into his hand as his fingers wrapped around himself, pretending it was you. Oh, Jeongin knew it all. Beomgyu was more than willing to pounce as soon as Jeongin was away. Jeongin found himself demanding another thing of you, “And while im away, love, don’t even think about talking to Beomgyu,” to you, that was simple. You never truly longed to converse with your boyfriend’s friends, but when Beomgyu received a text from the very same man, he was livid:

“Dont touch her,” Beomgyu read with a sneer on his face, grimacing as another text loaded, “Even when I’m away she’s still mine.” And Beomgyu suddenly had it set in his mind that he didn’t just want you anymore; he needed you. Not only that, he needed to prove that Jeongin didn’t have as much control over the two of you as he thought.

Quite frankly it was easy. You were dumb, he was conniving. So it didn’t take long before he’d weaseled his way into your life; meanwhile Jeongin sat in a hotel bed across the world, oblivious to how Beomgyu had you bent over the bed right now. Oblivious to the way Beomgyu’s name rolled off your tongue between indecent pants; hips rolling along with every little thrust forward he made into you, drool pooling on the side of your cheek and into the thin fabric of your bed sheets. It really didn’t take long; Beomgyu had you broken for him in a matter of days.

“You dumb fuckin’ girl, going stupid on my cock,” Beomgyu berated between breathless groans. He’d wanted this for so long; now there was no one in his way to stop him from finally having what he wants. He possessed his prize, he didn’t intend on letting this moment go to waste, “Doesn’t that feel nice? Better than your stupid boyfriend, yeah? He can’t make you feel this way— this good.” Beomgyu’s words did nothing but egg you on, cunt clenching around his length— it was so different from your boyfriends. Beomgyu was a little longer, curved different and the lewd stretch of his cock was dizzying. Your boyfriend would just about lose it right now if he saw this; you moaning another man’s name, taking another man’s cock. “Say something, baby, c’mon,” Beomgyu bent to your face, pressing his chest into your sweaty back, aching to hear your voice.

You nodded stupidly, jaw hanging open and eyes fluttering as his big hands came to grip yours; the touch was nothing like Jeongin’s either. Beomgyu’s fingers were colder, his palms bigger and the grip he had on you was harsh. You moaned into the mattress, too dumb to even think about regret. “It’s— fuck, mm, it’s so good! Gyu—“ Beomgyu always loved when you called him that, now he found another reason to love it. His hips smashed into yours quicker, not caring how overwhelming it all was for you. He needed to memorialize this moment forever; capture it not just for himself but for a particular someone who’s kept you away from him longer than needed. Beomgyu’s eyes drifted, falling to your phone that lay unattended a few spaces away from your head. Oh, it was sick, it was borderline evil. But Beomgyu grinned like a mastermind as he let go of your hand and reached for the phone. Your mind was too hazy to realize but he’d swiped left on the screen and opened the camera, giggling slightly as he pressed the red, enticing record button. You didn’t realize he was recording so you moaned his name, and you moaned desperately, wishing he’d moved his hips again with that same needy vigor he had before. Now he was simply rolling your hips against his, the phone stuck on where you sucked him in so good.

“That’s it, say my name,” Beomgyu grinned, moving the camera to sit on the pillow beside your head, getting the view of your fucked out face and his own evil grin. You saw yourself, dumb expression embarrassingly staring back at you, then you saw Beomgyu, wrapping his hands around your waist as he pulled out, leaving just the tip in, eyes falling to the camera again, “What, shy now? Baby, c’mon, don’t be scared…” Beomgyu slammed himself inside of you and this time, the embarrassment you felt melted away, your nails clawing at the sheets. Beomgyu had no shame in this; if anything he felt glee. Pure pride that he’d finally gotten you.

When he saw that video Jeongin sent him a few weeks prior he swore he’d never felt a rage like that; this was just revenge, and it was better than heaven. He hoped that Jeongin would receive this at the worst time; he hoped that he’d feel even a fraction of what Beomgyu had felt just a few weeks ago. Jealous didn’t even begin to describe it.

[sorceresssundries]

Writing promp:

Gale and Tav’s first night in Waterdeep, post-wedding. Both are cuddling on the couch under a blanket, Tav slowly drifting in and out of sleep.

Gale’s in tears as he really can’t believe his luck, with Tav comforting him.

(I’m a romantic sap this evening.)

By the Firelight

Pairing: Gale x male Tav - SFW

Word Count: 800

Now i'm a romantic sap!! I hope you enjoy a little bit of sweet, newlywed bliss. Thank you anon, for the prompt xx

The two Mr. Dekarios were curled up on their favourite sofa in their tower, both still in their wedding robes, drunk on love, joy, and far too much wine. The warmth of the crackling fire beckoned them towards sleep, and they were so entwined they might as well have been one person. They were, really - these husbands of Waterdeep. The broken heroes who had met in dire circumstances and somehow fallen in love amidst shadow-curses and bloodstained battlegrounds. The clash of steel had been their ballad, relentless travel their courtship. Yet, by some miracle, love had settled, flourished, endured, and wrapped them into one person.

Gale had always been one for the grand gesture, for loud declarations and intricate acts of service, it was only now he was able to sink into the quiet, delicate moments he could fully understand the true depth and balance of being the other half of a person. How lucky he was, to be the other half of someone like Tav. No, he thought, correcting himself. Not someone like Tav. There was no-one else like Tav.

Before, he had believed that in order to be loved wholly, he had to chip away parts of himself and squeeze and twist into the cramped chambers of hearts he did not belong in. Tav’s heart was a welcome sanctuary, and no sacrifices or tolls were required to settle into its soft comfort. It was the place he realised he had always been working towards, and now he was there - it felt like finally coming home.

Gale raised his hand from his beloved so the new ring adorning his middle finger could catch the light. The flickering flames made the colours dance together, and the shimmer in Gale’s eyes made it look to him as though the ring was giving off its own glow. As was tradition, they had each designed a ring, which, during the ceremony, had been cut in half and the non-matching halves fused together to create their union rings. Gale was delighted with the blend of their two designs, with how different they were and yet how seamlessly they flowed into each other. Half of the ring was a simple, slim band forged from pure silver, a mythical metal said to offer protection to its wearer, and the other was intricately braided from gold and copper, resembling a beautiful autumn vine. 

“Are you crying again?” Tav murmured sleepily, not raising his head from Gale’s chest. 

“Not at all, Mr.Dekarios. ”Gale cleared his throat and blinked away the tears. “Just got some dust in my eye.”

“Ah, more dust is it? How strange. There seemed to be plenty of dust in the tavern as well” Tav raised his head to offer Gale a sweet kiss, before settling back down and nuzzling his face against his chest like a cat.

“Is it because of the whole incident with Lae’zel and the cake?” Tav’s voice was low and tired “Because I think she was just trying to be helpful.”

Gale smiled at the memory, “My mother spent a fortune on that cake, and she sliced through the middle of it with a steel sword.”

“She thought there may have been a Kobold in there.”

“Yes, well she also thought the priest may have been a shapeshifter, but luckily we managed to avoid that potential bloodbath. All that was in that cake was a small fortune’s worth of traditional almond sponge.” 

He felt Tav’s laugh rumble against his chest “I found it very funny.” 

Gale kissed the top of his head, “Well, as long as it made you laugh, my rose. I’ll forgive her.”

The day had been filled with laughter, Gale had never laughed so much in his life. He had laughed so much with Tav it became as instinctive as breathing. They had danced, and kissed (to Tara’s disgust), and smiled until their rosy cheeks ached with joy. He was alight with unfiltered happiness.

Gale let the tears spill and held Tav tighter. 

Tav stirred once again, and when he kissed Gale he could taste the salty tears on his lips. 

“Normally, I would tell you not to cry.” He smiled and kissed at each tear on his cheek. “But you have earned your joy, and I don’t think you should hold any of it back.” 

They settled back together in gentle silence, their breathing in sync and touches reverent and loving as they held each other in comfortable bliss. 

“It’s exciting, isn’t it?” Tav’s voice was just a sleep heavy whisper, barely audible over the crackle and popping of the simmering fire. 

“What’s that, my love?” Gale stroked his hair, and listened as Tav’s breathing became deeper and their eyes fluttered with the weight of oncoming sleep.

“The next adventure.” Tav sighed, before slipping away to dream of his dusty-eyed husband.

[01zfan]

#45 | o. sh

volleyball player!shotaro x student manager!reader | 5.4k words

anons who requested this. i am SO SORRY it took me so long to get to this. i had to channel my past in volleyball for this and find the motivation for it so i hope the quality and the length makes up for the wait!

contains: semi-public, hand stuff only, mentions of clothing being tight (???)

shotaro would’ve never thought he’d end up playing volleyball. as a child he liked watching basketball the most, and when he he was in middle school he played soccer. but one summer at a sleep-away camp he picked up a volleyball for the very first time. shotaro received so many compliments about how he was a natural that he decided to tryout for the team on a whim. he knew it was insane to go into tryouts for a sport he never played, that it was less than likely he would be selected for the team. but it turned out everyone was right, he did have a natural talent. it wasn’t long before shotaro was accepted, becoming the libero on the junior varsity team.

shotaro also didn’t think he’d stay with it. just like soccer he found himself hitting ruts that caused him to lose momentum. he had to learn a completely new sport, he had to learn how to go for passes with his hands and dig for balls by diving his body to the floor instead of using his legs. the frustration of moving his body differently manifested into him not caring for the sport. it wasn’t long before he was not giving his all at practice, only nodding his head or shrugging his shoulders when the coach would ask him what was happening.

he even considered quitting when the coach wouldn’t bench him at the games. he knew he couldn’t stop himself from doing his best during games, especially with his team counting on him. he reluctantly ended up doing the best he could, and as a result his team did the best they could too. by his sophomore year shotaro was on the varsity team, and by the time he graduated he was captain.

when shotaro came to college it was a completely different atmosphere. he was against people stronger and taller than him, and he was up against people who didn’t have anything but love and passion for the sport. after the first day of tryouts shotaro stayed behind long after everyone left, practicing the drills he messed up. he was in his own little world, sweat dripping from his brow as he wondered if volleyball was worth it anymore.

“the gym is closed.”

shotaro turned away from the net to follow the voice. he remembers your face, but the amount of names he heard that day made him forget. all shotaro knew was that you were the assistant student manager. he saw your duffle slung over your shoulder as you wiped sweat from your brow with the bottom of your shirt. 

“you’ll only hurt yourself at this point. try sleeping on it, the drills will come to you naturally.” you turned around to walk out of the gym, and shotaro was getting ready to resume his drills. you turned around again, hand on the strap of your bag as you got his attention again. “you’re shotaro right?” you asked.

shotaro was shocked that you remembered his name. he was one face out of the crowd of athletes. he doesn’t even remember if he had the chance to formally introduce himself to anyone before they started explaining the process of tryouts.

“yeah.” shotaro said.

”cool.” shotaro saw you look down at your feet, his eyes caught on the brace that was bound to your ankle and the small scar down your knee. “you’re really good. i hope you make the team.” you said.

shotaro could only nod, giving you a simple wave as you left the gym. he thought nothing about his performance was noteworthy, much less worthy of praise. but you seemed to mean it, and as you walked away shotaro took your words of advice seriously. he packed up shortly after you left, and he had a long nights rest to recuperate from all the exercise. 

he found out you were right when the drills came to him like second nature the next day. he saw you watching him a few times, giving him nods of approval and a thumbs up each time he caught your eye. shotaro found himself looking to you each time he did a perfect serve, or was able to get a ball that seemed unsalvageable. he found himself overhearing the pointers you’d give to everyone else, even if they didn’t apply to him. each time you gave him advice shotaro listened intently, blaming the heat he felt across his face on the strenuous workouts. 

at the end of the week when he made the team, you were the first person he looked for. in such a short time shotaro decided that you were his good luck charm and that he needed to let you know. he was quick asking for your number, hiding it under the guise of needing to have the student manager’s contact information. you gave it to him with a smile on your face, putting your name and number in his phone.

“i’m going to the dining hall after this.” you handed shotaro back his phone and he texted you so you could have his number too. “if you wanna come with.” you offered.

shotaro took you up on the offer a little too quickly. he sat with you and the rest of the team, sharing stories about volleyball before coming to college. shotaro saw you nod and smile, understanding all the nuances of what it was to be a volleyball player, but never sharing stories of your own. he knew not to ask about it, he had come to that conclusion after finding about your vast knowledge of the sport and seeing the scar on your knee.

you and shotaro had made fallen into your own post-practice routine. he would wait for you in the main gym while you finished your clerical duties at the end of the night, and you two would walk together to the dining hall. sometimes you would end up catching the rest of the team, but more often than not it would be just the two of you sitting in the booth of an emptying dining hall. you two talked about life back home, what you were planning to study, and everything in between. 

the friendship blossomed quickly, but the dynamic changed the more you two spent time together. shotaro went from sitting across from you in the booth to sliding in next to you, so close that your shoulders touched. you two went from saying goodbye outside of the dining hall to shotaro walking you to your dormitory. eventually he was holding your duffle bag for you on the walk over, and one day he finally got the courage to reach for your hand. 

by the middle of the season, you two were in a relationship. everyone on the team seemed to know before you guys did, some even bet on how long it would take before you two got together. you two kept your relationship out of practice. you didn’t hesitate to advise shotaro and you refused to hold back critiques relayed to you by the coach. 

he respected you for your professionalism and passion for the sport, he truly did. he loved how you cared for the team and managed the responsibilities of the job while also easing everyone else’s stress. shotaro and his team never had to worry about the logistics of practice, they never had to worry about the little things if you were there. shotaro always found himself puffing out his chest proudly when his teammates would praise your hard work or mention that they never had a student manager like you. so shotaro didn’t know why he would feel a pang of jealousy seeing the girlfriends of his teammates in the stands wearing their jerseys. 

he knew it was unfair to impose anything on you. shotaro was able to get your support constantly outside the context of games, so he didn’t know why he felt that way. sometimes all shotaro could think about during games or practice was seeing his player numbers across your chest. he thinks he would be unstoppable on the court if he saw it only once—he’d keep a picture of you in his mind like soldiers did of their wives back home before going to war. but he would never ask you to do anything that would show such blatant favoritism, even if he was your boyfriend and everyone knew it. he could also never bring himself to admit the primitive aspect of it all, that he would feel some sense of satisfaction seeing his number on your body. so because of that, shotaro simply kept it to himself. 

he had planned to never tell you about it, but it was hard to avoid the conversation when it was staring at him right in the face. 

it was another long practice, ending with you walking around the main gym looking for shotaro. you called out his name and texted his phone to see where he was. you knew that no one else was in the gym at this time, you had even seen the custodians leave for the night after cleaning the floors. you followed the sounds of the showers, standing outside as you called out your boyfriends name again.

“i’m in here.” he called back.

“i’ll wait outside!” you yelled, hoping your voice would carry over the sound of running water.

as soon as you were done speaking, you heard the water shut off.

“come in. it’s just me.” shotaro said.

instantly you shook your head, looking up to the camera that was pointing right at the entrance of the showers.

“i can’t. not allowed.” you said simply.

shotaro came from around the corner of the tile wall, only wearing a towel around his waist. he had another towel in his hands, running through the wet strands of his hair.

“if anyone asks, say you heard me slip and fall.” shotaro beckons to you, and your feet started moving on their own accord. “come in.” he smiled. 

shotaro lead you through the winding tile walls of the showers until you made it to the main dressing room. you set your duffle down beside the bench, sitting on the polished wood as shotaro finished getting ready. you looked up in the large mirror embedded into the wall in front of you to stare at him. the pale blue tiles went all the way up to the white ceiling. you counted them up and down, each time leading you back to the reflection of shotaro’s body in the fogging glass.

he pretended to not notice your stare as he took his towel off to dry the rest of his body. when he looked in the mirrors reflection and saw you look away quickly, his laugh filled the room.

“it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.” shotaro said.

you nodded your head sheepishly, still looking down at your feet. he wasn’t wrong, you had seen shotaro naked more times than you could count on your hands and feet. but it was different seeing him outside the privacy of your dorm rooms. you have never seen shotaro naked in a place that could easily be invaded. all it took was a straggler from practice or a custodian to catch you staring at your naked boyfriend. you only slightly settled down when you heard him pull up the pants to his tracksuit. when you looked back up to the mirror shotaro was putting on his shirt. 

he came behind you, looking at you in the mirror with a smile on his face. shotaro bent down and kissed the crown of your head. you tilted you head to look at him directly.

“how was practice for you?” you asked.

shotaro shrugged his shoulders, moving his hand to massage your neck. he continued looking in the mirror to stare at you, and when he got to a stubborn knot you let your head lull forward.

“it was good. i’m a little nervous for the game tomorrow.” shotaro answered.

you hummed sympathetically, pulling shotaro’s hands away. you guided him around the bench to stand in front of you. you were sincere as you spoke, holding his hands tightly.

“you’ll do great, i know you will.” you encouraged.

shotaro nodded his head, feeling the anxiety of the important match melt off of his shoulders. he already felt like he was on top of the world just by looking down at you. shotaro watched the serious look on your face change to a bright smile as you squeezed his hands again.

“i do have a surprise for you.” you excitedly waved his hands around. “it just came in today and i can’t wait.” you said.

shotaro couldn’t control his own smile. he thought about what you could possibly give him as he cocked his head to the side.

“and what is that?” he asked.

you guided his hands again until he was standing next to the bench opposite of you. you both moved to straddle the bench, and shotaro watched you look to your duffle bag before looking to him.

“close your eyes.” when shotaro’s eyes stayed on your duffle bag you stopped messing with the zipper. “taro i’m serious!” you laughed.

shotaro hesitated for a moment, but let his eyes close. he let his imagination run wild, trying to think what surprise was waiting for him in your duffle. he thought maybe it was his favorite snack, maybe it was a lucky pair of socks or a handwritten note. when shotaro thought he heard the sound of your clothes jostling he had to compose himself. he tried to beat the dirty thoughts away with a stick as he held onto the edges of the bench. he heard you curse under your breath a moment later. 

when everything was still in the room again, he stuck out a tongue to wet his lips.

“okay. open them.” you said hesitantly. 

shotaro wasn’t expecting to actually be surprised when he opened his eyes. his wildest imagination would’ve never been able to pluck the view he was blessed with down from his mind to place it right in front of him. he let out a sigh from the other side of the bench as he took all of you in. he got the perfect view from where he was. he was able to see the 45 of his jersey stretch across your chest and how the tight fabric rode up to reveal your stomach. shotaro couldn’t take his eyes off of you as you pulled at the end of the sleeves in efforts to make it fit right. 

“it’s a little snug.” your attempt to pull down the bottom of the shirt was futile. it rode back up immediately once you were done pinching the fabric. “i thought mens sizes were supposed to be bigger.” you said

shotaro still couldn’t take his eyes off of your chest as he shook his head. the primitive thoughts shotaro tried to keep at bay became barbaric as he watched the tight jersey material stick to you. when you crossed your arms to cover your chest shotaro’s hands went to your bicep, pushing them back to your sides.

“perfect fit.” shotaro spread his legs on either side of the bench further as he took his hands off your arms. “it’s a perfect fit. no reason to hide.” he said.

he watched you mesmerized as you continued to move in his jersey. your end of the bench felt like it was miles away the longer he looked at you on the other side. he reached out a hand to you, letting his palm drag across the polished wood as he pulled his hand back. shotaro was grateful you understood what he needed as you came forward, your hands gripping the edges of the bench. you brought your arms in to make your chest poke out more, trying to give him a show. his eyes ran over his numbers before he went to the shy smile on your face. shotaro mirrored your grin as he scooted forward closer to you. shotaro’s smile only got bigger as you two came closer and closer, by the time your face casted a shadow on his you could see his gleaming teeth. he only stopped smiling a moment before your lips touched his, biting them as he looked down to yours.

your kisses were light and soft, both of you tilting your heads to accommodate the other. one of shotaro’s hands came from behind him to go to your waist, and one of your hands let go of the bench to hold onto his face. you could feel the soft skin of shotaro’s cheek underneath your fingertips as you deepened the kiss. you held his head in place as you pushed your tongue past his lips. shotaro’s other hand went to your waist and he pulled you in closer, until you had to put your legs over his.

shotaro only brought you closer, and he moved towards you to cover the rest of the space. you could feel all of him press against you as one of his hands moved to your ass and the other moved to the small of your back. shotaro applied pressure, making your chest come closer to his as your hand that wasn’t on his face went to his shoulder. he was grabbing handfuls of you, kneading whatever part of your body he could get his hands on while your grip on his shoulder tightened. neither of you refused to pull away, only catching quick breaths in the seconds one of you would pull away to readjust. 

when you moaned into shotaro’s mouth he remembered where he was. he was supposed to be like you, taking his role on the team very seriously. he remembered that he shouldn’t be making out with you in a place where you two could so easily get caught. so he pulled away from you reluctantly, and moved a gentle hand to your shoulder to keep you from leaning forward again. your plump lips called to him, but he remained steady as he caught his breath.

“we could get caught.” shotaro said.

you only nodded your head, eyes wide as you tried catching your breath. shotaro nodded too, trying hard to not let his eyes wander back to his numbers across your chest. he still had a handful of your ass, and he could feel you arch your back in efforts to give him more. your hands that were still on shotaro’s face pulled him in, and he only resisted for a second before going back in. 

now it was you smiling against his lips, taking a deep breath in as you pulled on his bicep. shotaro’s hand went to your thigh as he lifted to get you completely on his lap. your hand on his face went to the nape of his neck before traveling up his scalp, reveling in the soft strands running through your fingers. when you pulled shotaro sighed, slipping his tongue further into your mouth.

you two were so caught up in the act of kissing that you forgot what always followed it. you were lost in how shotaro’s soft lips pressed into yours that you nearly gasped in his mouth feeling his dick pulse against you. he responded by only pulling you closer, and when your lips broke apart shotaro went to whatever part of your body he could reach. when you tilted your chin back he went to your jaw, traveling all the way down your neck until he got to what his jersey covered. shotaro pulled your hips down to his lap and he pushed into you when you pulled the hair at his scalp.

“you’re really hard right now.” you sighed.

“sorry.” shotaro said in between kisses. “you just look so perfect.”

“yeah?” you laughed, bringing your hands to shotaro’s face so he could look up at you. “i thought we could get caught?” you asked.

“i don’t remember saying that.” shotaro said.

you both let out quick chuckles and shotaro couldn’t stop thinking about how all of his restraint melted away feeling in your presence. it was a problem he was developing, even worse than his habit of not saying mine when going for a ball or cursing under his breath when a play wasn’t set up perfectly. he looked at the glint in your eyes and down to his number that was covered up by your two bodies pressing together. 

there are worse problems to have.

shotaro travels his hand up your thigh, watching the anticipation build behind your eyes as you preen into him. he messes with the fabric at the end of the shorts before pressing into you. you break eye contact to tilt your head back but shotaro’s eyes stay on you, how your neck bobs as you get the little relief. he feels himself becoming impatient at the sight, and he pulls your waist down with his other hand so you can feel all of him.

he repeats the action, just pressing into you and bringing your hips down to meet his each time you raise them. he can feel his dick pulsing in his pants, and shotaro almost sticks his own hand underneath his waistband to relieve the aching. but he doesn’t want to miss a single second of you getting teased as your eyebrows furrow from the almost pleasure.

“shotaro.” you sigh, looking up to the ceiling.

your own hand starts drifting down, taking the time to press into shotaro’s chest and stomach before you reach the pants of his tracksuit. you look down to shotaro when the thick band of fabric stays in your way, and he looks up at you with his eyes gleaming. his hand stops pressing into your heat to go up to your waistband. 

“mhm?” he hums.

neither of you say anything else as both of your hands move at the same time. you grab his dick and shotaro goes to your clit—not wasting any more time to tease. you both silently come to the conclusion you will have time for all the other stuff later, right now it was all about sated the desperation both of you felt until you were somewhere more private. 

shotaro knew he’d have to take his time with you in his dorm when he rubbed the first circle around your clit. instantly you were curling into him, muffling your tiny whimper into his shirt. shotaro knew he would be better composed later in the day, that he would be able to tease you or coo at the sounds you made into the fabric of his shirt instead of biting his lip to keep his own sounds at bay. he couldn’t help himself when you squeezed your hand around his dick just right, and when you had his name and number written all over you. 

the both of you were too reckless to start at a slow speed. when your hands went to eachother you both started fast, rushing through the motions as the last bit of your brains that were working told you that you had to be quick. so you quickly pumped shotaro’s dick until he was thrusting into your hand and he wasted no time teasing your clit until you were begging for his fingers. you both were messes for eachother in seconds, hands wedged between smushed bodies and shoved underneath clothes in shotaro’s team locker room. the novelty of it all would’ve made you both laugh if you weren’t so caught up in trying to feel everything.

shotaro felt the joking mood shift as you looked up to him. he could see the lights of the locker room reflect your glassy eyes, making it look like you had stars swimming in your irises. you were serious as you looked up to him, lips pouting as you spoke.

“you’re so good at volleyball.” you said, looking straight into shotaro.

his fingers on your clit faltered at the sudden praise, only finding their tempo again when you bucked your hips and let out a small desperate sound.

“what?” shotaro asked, trying to keep up with your hand that tightened around his dick.

“you’re so good at volleyball.” you repeated.

you repeated the words without faltering, tilting your head. you could see the confusion written on his face, flickering between that and how his lips parted when you squeezed a little tighter. you leaned back to rest on your hand that wasn’t on shotaro, giving both of you enough room to move your hands faster. the new angle let you pull down shotaro’s sweats enough to see the tip of his dick peaking out past your hand.

“i know i said you could do whatever you want.” you pumped his dick faster, feeling him pulse in your hand each time you went back down from his tip. “but i wanted to die when you told me you were thinking of quitting.”

shotaro quickly changed the angling of his hand in your pants, making his palm face the ceiling so he could finger you and stimulate your clit at the same time. you closed your eyes from the change and let a tiny fuck slip past your lips before opening them again. you clenched around his fingers when shotaro licked his lips.

“why?” he asked weakly.

“because you’re such a good leader, even if you aren’t captain yet” you started swiveling your hips into his hand, chasing that feeling building in the pit of your stomach. “they couldn’t do it without you.” you whined.

shotaro found himself chasing after something else, and a different feeling erupted across his body hearing your praise. he didn’t know what to do with himself hearing the rushed compliments fall from your lips as he watched you try and fuck yourself on his fingers. shotaro came to the embarrassing realization that he didn’t need you to touch him anymore, he could fall apart just from watching you and hearing you talk to him.

“they’re more than capable.” shotaro bent his fingers inside of you, eyes already focused on your chest to watch it jolt in the confines of his jersey as your whole body twitched. “feels good?” he asked.

shotaro watched you lull forward, eyes lazily focused on him as you nodded your head. he could see you actively trying to remember what you were saying, swallowing as you prepped your shaky voice.

“eunseok would’ve never been able to fix his jump serve if you didn’t help him.” shotaro tried putting in a third finger, but when he saw you wince he pulled back. “and sungchan kept touching that fucking net until you scolded him.” you said.

shotaro could tell you were getting close by the way your words were turning into babbles and your hand on his dick was becoming more and more rushed. he watched you screw your eyes shut and when you opened them he could see the tears in the corner of your eyes as you tried to focus on his. shotaro kept his eyes open wide, trying to remember the sight when he tries out for captain. 

your walls closed around shotaro’s digits repeatedly, and he continued pumping his fingers in and out even if it felt like you were trying to suck him in. 

“you think i’m a good volleyball player?” shotaro asked the question just to see you pitifully nod your head.

“you’re the best.” you arched your back, and the new angle helped shotaro go deeper inside of you. “you’re my favorite.” you whimpered.

shotaro’s eyes were wide as he took in every word. your voice dripped with sincerity as you rushed through sentences. shotaro used one of his hands to trace the curve of your body, ending at the bottom of his jersey. he pulled on the material, bringing the pinched fabric down your torso until it was completely straight. shotaro felt a newfound pride in himself that materialized in his chest, trickling down like molten lava to his stomach. immediately when he let go the tight fabric clung to you like a second skin, riding up the same way it did before. shotaro ran a quick hand through his hair as he felt the excitement prickling across his body.

“i’m gonna cum.” shotaro said.

his voice was beginning to waiver, floating between grunts and prolonged sighs. you nodded your head again, pushing up from your other hand to focus. you squeezed shotaro’s tip, using his precum as lubricant for your ministrations. he jerked his hips up quickly, bunching his pants at his mid thigh to free the rest of his dick. you moaned at the sight, using your legs that were still on shotaro’s to bring your body closer to his.

shotaro wrapped his hand around your back, giving you stability and enough space to work your hands the same way. when he saw you bring the end of his jersey down shotaro couldn’t hold out any longer. he pressed his fingers into your side and he closed his eyes as relief washed over his body. you kept working your hand when shotaro stilled underneath you, and he heard more mumbled praises fell from your lips as his his dick twitched in your hand. he left out one final curse, leaning forward until his head rested on your shoulder.

when shotaro opened his eyes he saw his cum glide down your hand and his abs. he saw some of it on your stomach, dribbling down your body to seep into the fabric of your sweatpants. you looked down too, looking back up to shotaro with a hunger that made him almost ready to go again. 

before you could close the distance between your lips shotaro leaned forward, working still feeling the buzzing across his body as his lips ghosted over yours.

“i couldn’t have done it without you.” shotaro said it quietly, afraid that if he got any louder he would only moan. he took his fingers from your clenching heat to focus on your clit. “you’re my motivation to be in this stupid sport and the only reason i stayed.”

shotaro felt your legs shake over his and your hand moved from his dick to dig your nails into his stomach. shotaro flexed for you, hardening the muscle underneath his skin. he could feel the cum on your hand smear onto his stomach, warm and sticky as your grip on him changed.

“you close?” shotaro asked, readjusting his hand around your back.

“so close.” you whimpered. “just keep going.”

“okay baby.” shotaro’s hand across the small of your back pulled at you, making you lean forward into his chest. “moan into my shirt if you need to.” he whispered.

you nodded while pushing your hips forward trying to work with shotaro’s fingers. your entire body went tense, gripping shotaro’s shirt so hard the fabric wrinkled. your moans became whiny and you could feel shotaro nodding his head.

“i got you.” he whispered into your ear.

your full body shook around shotaro, and he continued to nod and keep the same speed. he could feel the same relief coming off you in waves, and shotaro let a finger run down your folds to gather your cum. he used that as extra lubrication on your clit, speeding up until you let out a shuddering breath. he didn’t stop until you started shaking your head against his chest and your hand on his abs clasped around his wrist. he still tried circling his hand, smiling as how you had to push yourself off his lap before you got overstimulated.

“baby.” shotaro breathed.

“mhm?” you hummed. 

you still leaned into his chest, and shotaro watched your back raise and lower as you tried catching your breath. he saw the small trace of tear tracks underneath your hooded eyes.

“did you mean all the stuff you said?” he asked.

you put your hands to his face as you nodded your head. shotaro leaned into your palms, and the need to be touched by you took over his mind again. 

“of course i did.” you bring shotaro forward to kiss his forehead. when you pulled back he saw the facetious smile on your face. “i would love to tell you more about it, actually.” you teased.

you and shotaro were tripping over eachother as you gathered your belongings. you readjusted your sweatpants and threw shotaro’s hoodie over his jersey. shotaro slung both of your duffles over his shoulder quickly. you moved in a haste, not looking back at the bench to see if you left a mess. shotaro didn’t turn around till he made it to the exit, peaking at you one last time with a joking smile on his face.

“just make sure the jersey stays on.” he laughed.

[cottagec0relover21]

hii!! i first wanted to say that you're doing well and taking care of yourself :) could i request headcanons for chilchuck from delicious in dungeon where the reader is kind of like the bard of the party? and maybe they stay up late writing songs and chil ends up saying up with them? you can do what you like with it other than that but i like sharing ideas (and i love chilchuck :3) i hope you have a good day!! 💜💚

Hiii! I'm so happy to get a request, I forgot how exciting it was to open my askbox and read that someone wanted me to write them something (can you tell youre the first one yet?). I know you asked for headcannons, but I got carried away and ended up making it a fic I believe, by the way I wrote it. I still hope you like it! If not I'll try my best to specifically do headcannons next time if you ask 🌸✨️ (also have a good day too)

"Late Night Songs"

[Chilchuck Tims x Bard!reader]

Warnings: none - gn!bard!reader - fluff

Being the bard of the group was rather hard. Why? Well, writing songs and seeing if they ended up sounding good wasn't easy. (y/n) needed a lot of creativity for that. Luckily for them, they had a source for it: Chilchuck.

Yes, that guy in their group everyone treated like a child sometimes just because of his height. And while it was very adorable, yes, (y/n) saw a lot of depth in his personality.

Tonight they had decided to stay up, which many might say was not a good idea considering the fact they were exploring a dungeon. But they didn't care, they wanted to write, to compose something new.

And so they stared at the sheet of paper in front of them, their instrument by their side as they sat away from the fire so as to not bother or wake up the rest.

Entranced in their thoughts, they didn't notice when Chilchuck stirred in his bedroll to then wake up with a huff at the inability of going back to sleep, sitting up and looking at the fire that had not gone out yet.

That's when with his amplified hearing, he heard the sound of a pen writing down on a paper.

He looked behind him and found (y/n), sitting rather far from them. When had they woken up? Or had they not been able to sleep at all? What were they writing that was so important at this time?

All those questions filled his head as he got up slowly, trying to not make much noise for everyone's sake.

(y/n) raised their head at the sound of rustling and found their muse, standing up and looking at them, now approaching. He rubbed the sleep off of his eyes as he walked to them and sat by their side. —What are you doing up so late?— His groggy voice asked softly.

—I'm trying to write a song, or to at least think of a new melody, but I can't seem to come up with anything— they said as they looked at him, noticing a sleepy smile.

Chilchuck sighed, looking at the rest of the party, all in a deep sleep. —Well I can't seem to fall sleep anymore, I'm really not comfortable with how hard the floor feels today. Mind if I stay up with you?— He took a quick peek at the paper, but saw nothing written. They really had some artistic block, huh?

(y/n) smiled at their question, excited to finally have spend some peaceful time alone with him— Not at all, you might help inspire my new song in fact— they winked, and Chilchuck felt his heart leap in his chest at the gesture. He really hoped the darkness of the night helped hide the embarrassment in his face. It was a simple wink, what was wrong with him? he thought, shaking his head.

He chuckled softly, his gaze moving away from them for a moment in embarrassment— Don't say those things— he rubbed the back of his neck— thank you though, it's... flattering— he admitted with a sheepish smile.

—In fact, you've always been my inspiration. I'm not gonna lie to you— God his heart was about to stop. Had he heard them right? What did that even mean?

—I have?— He didn't know how to ask without looking too excited about it.

—Of course, you're practically my muse— they noticed him staring with slightly wide eyes at their sudden confession.— I don't know but– you just have something that always makes me stare and it makes the inspiration bubble up inside of me— okay today was definitely going to be his funeral. Chilchuck swallowed harshly, a blush definitely burning bright on his cheeks as he kept silent, his brain failing to come up with an answer.

He watched them suddenly gasp and start to write down something on the paper that rested on their thighs. (y/n) mumbled to themselves as they kept writing, a sudden urge of inspiration rushing through them.

They look up again quickly at him, a light in their eyes.— Ah– I almost forgot to thank you.— they smiled at him with sincerity and gave his hand a quick squeeze, at which he just nodded, humming in response as they watched them write down their ideas, praying to whatever deity was out there to make his blush go away.

He would've never guessed he was helpful in more ways than just picking locks and finding traps. But thanks to them, now he knows he is, for (y/n) at least, a source of inspiration. And their heart swelled with emotion and pride at that.

[mika-no-sekai-blog]

Word count: 2000

Warnings: none

Part XXII | Part XXIV

The first night sleeping alone in your cottage didn't turn out well. Horrors of your past reappeared and you had to again watch getting your mother killed. It was that kind of dream you couldn't wake up from even though you wanted to, and you probably made too much noise.

"Y/N," slightly hoarse, but soft voice called for you, cold and wet snout touching your face. "Y/N."

Even without opening your eyes, you knew who it was. Hot tears slid down your face, uncontrollable sobs the only sound breaking the silence of the night. The nightgown soaked in cold sweat, stuck uncomfortably to your body. You were trembling. One heavy paw touched your forearm, then gently embraced you. The snout sniffed your face and cheeks, licking your tears away with small cat-like licks.

You moved closer to him, hiding your face in the fur of his neck as you held onto him. He didn't speak, your name and a few short simple words were the only thing he managed to say so far. But under your cheek you heard the frantic beats of his heart. He was probably worried. Your throat was sore as if you screamed for a long time. You must have scared him.

"I'm sorry," you sobbed. He shook his head and made a small whimpering sound. Tamlin moved, carefully climbing into your bed. The old bed creaked under his weight. He was so huge that only a small space was left on mattress for you. You two had to huddle together to fit in, but you didn't mind. He tugged you closer, holding you with paws as best as he could in this form, you hugged his torso.

This helped, his closeness and warmth scared the fear away and eventually you calmed down enough to fall asleep again, lulled by the sound of his rhythmic heartbeat and deep breaths.

You opened your eyes and looked around the foggy rose garden. You knew this place, you already visited it once in your dream. Without hesitation you headed to the pedestal where you found Tamlin last time. This time it was empty. You wanted to call out his name, but your throat closed up and no voice came out. You tried it again with the same result.

You slowly twisted around, hoping to see him somewhere nearby, but instead your eyes landed on a sprawling tree with low branches. It definitely wasn't here last time. There was something you couldn't explain, that drew you to the tree and so you followed your instinct. The tree seemed to be very old, its trunk was covered with soft green moss. Sighing you ran fingers over it and a few drops of a dew rolled all the way down to your wrist.

"Why are you crying, Y/N?" Well-known voice came from somewhere behind the tree. You hurried there, expecting to find him sitting down between roots. What a disappointment when you didn't find anyone. Did he play a hide-and-seek with you?

"Why are you crying, my pretty rose?" A hand reached down from a branch above your head, his long fingers wiped a tear off from your cheek. Your gaze snapped up in surprise. There he was, half lying half sitting on the branch, looking down at you. Tamlin looked sad, his emerald eyes dimly shining in the shadow.

"You're awake," you breathed out. His face still reminded a cold stone of statue, but there was a hint of life in his eyes.

"Have somebody hurt you?" His mind seemed to be just as hazed like the last time, but at least he was awake now.

"No.. it's just.. a memory.."

"Memories," his glazed eyes were gazing to the distance straight through you. "I have a lot of painful ones. Like the day you left.."

"I've returned," you squeezed his hand lingering on your cheek. "Do you hear me? I'm here with you now."

"No one comes back to me.." his voice was deep and cold now. You wanted to object, but the dream faded away.

You woke up in embrace of strong arms holding you on a naked broad chest that gently brushed your cheek with every breath. You were still tired. Sleep was the only thing you craved now, luring you to the world of dreams once again. You closed your eyes, pressing into the warmth of the smooth skin.

Wait!

Your eyes snapped open wide, your hazy mind cleared.

Hands? Chest? Skin? Could it be?

You abruptly sat up. Tamlin groaned in his sleep, his face half hidden under the messy strands of blond hair. His hands reached for you, trying to pull you back down.

"No, Tamlin, wake up," you pushed against him, overexcited with the sudden improvement.

One emerald eye cracked open a bit, gazing up on you. With another groan his long form curled around you, naked as the day he was born. You gasped, your face, ears and even neck set ablaze. You tried to avoid looking down where you could feel his manhood pressed to your hip, the thin nightgown hardly a barrier between you.

"Tamlin," you stiffened. His name came out in a high pitched tone.

Finally, he woke up. As soon as he noticed the state of his body, he fled from the bed and taking the pillow with him, he pressed his back against the wall and the pillow to his intimate parts. He watched you startled, trying to find his voice.

"It's okay," you stuttered, looking everywhere but him. "I ..saw nothing."

He blinked and fought a smirk that threatened to spread on his face. "I know," he rasped. Even though he could speak again, it seemed to cause him problems.

"Do-does it hurt? I mean your throat," you asked. Meanwhile you took a spare blanket from small basket at the foot of the bed, offering it to him. He accepted it with a small smile. You turned to the window and looked out to give him privacy. It was cloudy and windy morning, although you didn't notice any of it. Your mind kept swirling around the expanse of smooth skin you just saw and quite impressive length you felt.

"A little bit." He touched your elbow. Carefully you looked back at him. The blanket was wrapped around his hips, too low and showing too much of his skin, but it was better than before.

"I'll brew you a tea that will make you feel better. When Lucien comes I'll ask him to find you some clothes, but until then this have to be enough."

"Thank you."

His eyes roamed over your body as if he saw you for the first time after a very long time. You felt too underdressed and too self aware under his piercing gaze. You crossed arms on your chest in a poor attempt to hide at least something.

You cleared your throat. "I-I think I should change," you choked out, nervously fidgeting.

However Tamlin didn't move a bit, his eyes still fixed on you. You swallowed hard, your heart rate increasing. He took the last step that separated you, and swept you into a tight embrace. Your lungs filled with a rain and earthen scent, the most comforting smell ever. Pressing his nose to the crook of your shoulder, he shakily inhaled.

"It's really you," he murmured. "I thought I just dreamed you out."

Your heart melted at those words and you hugged him back. "This isn't dream. I've returned."

He stilled. "How long can you stay?" he whispered, his voice dull.

"As long as I want," you laughed.

His body relaxed. "Thanks the Mother," he sighed. His embrace tightened so much you couldn't breathe.

You patted his shoulder. "Tam, I can't-.."

"I'm sorry." His grip little bit loosened. "Is this okay?"

"Yeah."

His fingers tangled in your hair, stroking them lightly. "I missed you," he rasped after a while.

"Really?"

"Really."

"I missed you, too," you whispered in a small voice. "So many things happened.."

"Did.. did he treat you well?" You knew who the he was.

"Well, yes. They all were kind to me. My brother especially." There was probably something in your voice that wasn't so convincing. You felt a small sting at your back as Tamlin's claws came out.

"Uhm, I apologise," his hands fell down from the small of your back, untangling from your hair and he stepped back hiding them behind his back. You stopped him, pulling on his wrists and entangled your fingers with his. It felt so right that you had to smile. He seemed to be confused.

"I hoped you would come to see me," you swallowed, smile disappearing.

"I-.. I couldn't," he looked down to his bare feet, ashamed.

"I know, so I came to you."

Tamlin kissed the back of your hand, pressing it to his cheek. "I dreamed about you often. So often that I sometimes couldn't tell the reality from dream," he admitted.

"I had a few vivid dreams, too. They helped me at times."

He frowned. "Helped?"

"Yes, I didn't remember a thing until recently. It was hard to adjust to so many strangers and unfamiliar house and everything at first. It got better when Rhys helped me with the memory loss."

A muscle twitched in his jaw. But before he could say something, the door downstairs opened and closed.

"Are you awake yet?" Lucien called. "I've brought some fresh bread for breakfast and even picked up some of those herbs you use in tea."

Tamlin gave you a tight smile that promised you would continue another time. You nodded.

"Give me a minute," you shouted. Tamlin left your room, so you could change. You thought he would go down to talk with Lucien, but when you opened the door, he stood there waiting for you.

You found Lucien seated at table, swaying on the back legs of chair, hands behind his neck.

He turned to you with fox-like grin, some teasing remarks already on the tip of his tongue. When he saw frowning Tamlin with hands crossed on his bare chest standing behind you, his eyes widened. He lost balance and fell down, hitting his back and head hard enough to see stars.

When he was getting off the ground grunting, you started to laugh, immediately followed by Tamlin's deeper laughter. Lucien muttered something about naked beasts, gentlemen and ladies and winnowed away. In few minutes he returned with arms full of clothes. While Tamlin dressed in your room you prepared breakfast. Lucien, of course, helped you.

"How did you do that?" he muttered with undeniable interest.

You shrugged. "I did nothing. When I woke up in the morning, he was already.. back."

"I knew that you could help him, but I've never even imagined that he could improve so fast. He was.. completely gone. At this rate I think soon I'll be able to return to my friends. They already miss me, you know."

You wished you could say something, but there was nothing. You've grown fond of him these past few weeks. He was easy going person, chatty, funny at times, it was hard not to like him. But he had his own life to live. You knew he wouldn't stay forever.

"What is that face for," he teased you. "Already miss me?"

You rolled your eyes and grinned.

Fortunately, Tamlin was back and could speak again. You wouldn't stay alone with nothing to do and haunted by your past.

A single thought of your High Lord and the sight you got that morning made your pulse quicken and cheeks flush. When he returned dressed in simple green trousers and white shirt you almost spilled the tea you were setting on the table. You wondered what had changed. Why your body started to react to him like this so suddenly.

Unable to come with any explanation, you seated down and stuffed your mouth with bread that Lucien brought. The three of you ate in unusual silence.

Taglist: @impossibelle @sevikas-whore @b0xerdancer @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @tele86 @mybestfriendmademe @nocasdatsgay @yunloyal @nebarious @isabiss @st0rmyt @lilah-asteria @ubigaia @paleidiot @acourtofimagines @harahettania

[withwritersblock]

Coconut Perfume

~Coconut Perfume by Ray Laurel~

Author's Note: I was asked for more Cale and you shall recieve. I went off of an image I get when I listen to this song teheh Summary: Cale becomes infatuted with the maid of honor Warnings: uhR? Word Count: 2,217 Cale Makar x fm!reader

She stood staring into the floor length mirror, admiring the slim gray dress. It was simple off the shoulder neckline that showed off some of her cleveage. She tilted her head to the side admiring her frame. Her dress took the longest to alter between all of the bridesmaids. There was something that went wrong in the process, but that didn’t matter.

Here she was the maid of honor at her best friends wedding. She took a deep breath as she looked in the mirror to see her best friend, Madison, reading a letter. Her soon to be husband had written a love letter to her. Y/N quickly lifted some of the dress as she took fast steps towards her. Madison covered her mouth with her hand.

“Oh I love this man so much,” she mumbled as she met Y/N’s gaze. Her childhood best friend found the one and she couldn’t have been happier.

Well, she could’ve. She was jealous. She would never let that word slip from her lips but that is truly how she was feeling. Y/N was also on the path of marriage with her high school sweetheart; who happened to up and leave two years ago. Now, she has been single and miserable. 

But she was so excited to watch her best friend marry the man she loves. 

The ceremony soon began and she was standing beside Madison, holding a bouquet of flowers. Her eyes was scanning the crowd, recognizing majority of the people in the audience. Except the collection of men seated in the back row. They had all dark blue suits on and seemed to be unfamiliar to her. 

As the maid of honor, she felt nervous that she was unaware of who those men were but as a very single woman; the sight of the blond man sitting at the isle peeked her interest. It seemed as though, she had peeked his as well. Or he was staring at the bride and groom, she wasn’t quite sure.

He had a small smile on his lips as he watched the ceremony. She forced her gaze back towards the bride and groom. “I pronounce you husband and wife, you may kiss the bride,” the officiant expressed. Madison’s smiled widely before her fiance, Mitchell, leaned towards her kissing her.

All of the guest began to cheer loudly. She felt her eyes tear up as she smiled widely. She found her gaze shifting towards the blond man who was now standing with the rest of the guests. Madison and Mitchell interlocked their fingers as they stared walking down the isle together to leave the ceremony room together. The ceremony and the reception were both on the same lot. It took all of three minutes to walk from one location to the other. 

Y/N next job was to glide to the center of the alter, “Okay the reception will begin in fifteen minutes, please hang out here until it is party time,” she explained. All of the young people cheered along. The blond man tilted his head to the side, nudging the arm of the man beside him. 

Y/N smiled towards the crowd before herself and the rest of the bridal party began walking down the isle to the reception room. She kept walking, keeping her gaze on the floor for only a moment. She lifted her gaze once she felt the magnet of the blond man’s gaze. She met his eye, watched him scan her frame as she walked. She felt a smirk forming to her lips as she continued.

It had been an hour into the reception, her meal was exquisite and she was now indulging in the free booze. She was sitting at the end of the bar nursing the champagne in her glass. It had been her fourth glass and she was not planning on slowing down. She wasn’t close with anyone in the bridal party or anyone at the wedding really. Majority of the bridal party were Madison’s friends from college. Which she didn’t meet until two weeks before the wedding.

Here she was in a state that she barely knows with people she barely knows and she was trying to be happy. She was trying. All she wanted to do was get back to Denver. She moved there one year ago for a new job opportunity and she loved it there. 

A man leaned against the bartop beside her, taking in a deep breath. “I’m Cale,” he said holding out his hand. She scanned his frame, meeting his blue eyes. He was the man sitting beside the isle. She smiled as she took his hand. 

“I’m Y/N,” she smiled. 

“Shouldn’t the maid of honor be on the dance floor?” he asked as the bartender placed a small glass of whiskey in front of him. Cale smiled politely as he slid a twenty dollar bill towards the bartender. She forced a smile as she tilted her head back.

“The maid of honor only knows the bride and the bride is dancing with her new husband,” she offered, leaning back slightly as she pointed towards the center of the dance floor. He nodded as he clenched his jaw. “You must be friends with Mitchell,” she mumbled. 

“Yeah, yeah. We played at UMass together,” Cale explained as he brought his glass towards his lips, “Though it’s been like three years since I’ve seen him so does feel a bit weird that I came,” 

She met his eyes, “Why did you?” she asked as she brought her glass of champagne to her lips. He squinted his eyes as she dropped his gaze towards his glass. He watched the liquid hit the sides of the glass. 

“He invited all of his old teammates, would be weird if I was the only one not to show,” he explained as he met her gaze, “I already get enough grief about being a “hot shot, too good for them”,” he said with hand air quotes. She tilted her head to the side pursing her lips forward. She watched his cheeks pinken up as the words left his lips.

“And why would they think that?” she questioned while he shifted his gaze to meet her eye. He swallowed hard as he clenched his jaw. He smiled softly.

“I left the team to play in the NHL,” he let out simply. She shrugged.

“So did Mitchell,” she said confidently. He leaned on his elbow as he shifted his whole body to face her. She leaned towards him, their faces slowly getting closer to one another.

“So you know nothing about the NHL, hockey, any of that?” he asked while he scanned her features. She furrowed her eyebrows slightly as her lips curled upward slightly.

“I moved to Denver the year Colorado won the cup, that’s about it,” she let out. 

Cale’s smirk slowly formed into a wide smile, he tilted his head back while laughing. “What’s funny about that?” she let out, laughing nervously. He shook his head while laughing. “What?” she said laughing.

“I play for Colorado,” he said as his laughter slowed. Her mouth fell open as she stared towards him suspiciously; another nervous laugh left her lips. “I’m serious,” he mumbled. 

She quickly pulled her phone from the small clutch purse laying beside her glass, “What are you doing?” Cale asked as he watched her. She shook her head as she began google the Avalanche’s roster. He leaned forward, glancing down towards her phone. “Are you seriously fact checking me?” he let out while laughing. 

She continued scrolling until she saw the name Cale Makar with his photo. She clicked it and held her phone next to his head, “No shit,” she mumured as she shifted her gaze between her phone screen and Cale’s face. 

He bit his bottom lip as he looked into her eyes. “So you live in Denver?” he asked. All she could let out is hum. 

Her gaze looked down towards his lips and she took a deep breath. “Do you wanna get out of here?” she asked. His eyes widened, she chuckled nervously. “I mean go somewhere else?” she offered. He squinted slightly before he nodded slowly. She shifted her gaze towards the bar and noticed a full unopened bottle of champagne beneath the bar top.

She quickly reached over and took a hold of the champagne bottle, “Come on!” she muttered out as she quickly ran through the reception with the champagne bottle held tight to her chest.

For a few seconds he simply watched her run away, she spun around meeting his eye while laughing. Cale eyes went wide as he began to follow after, aiding the robbery of probably very expensive champagne.

She ran out of the reception and slowed down a few feet away from the entrance of the building. Cale stopped beside her laughing. “What was that?!” he asked while laughing. 

“We need some beverages on our adventures, don’t we?” she asked as she shook the bottle slightly towards him as she walked backwards. He furrowed his eyebrows as he stared towards her suspiciously. 

“You just stole that,” he pointed out as he followed her, watching her walk away backwards. “What if someone saw us?” he let out, taking small steps towards her.

“I doubt anyone would even care, there’s like five other bottles behind that bar,” she offered as she turned around, walking normal. Cale smiled widely, his cheeks hot as he followed after her. 

“Where are we going?” Cale questioned as he adjusted the suit jacket on his frame. 

She spun around again facing him, she handed him the bottle of champagne. He reluctantly took a hold of it, “Can you open it, I’ve got acrylics,” she said as she smiled towards him teasingly. He scoffed as he without hesitation opened the bottle. “Thank you,” she mumbled as she continued walking down the path. Cale walked beside her as he took a swig of the champagne, cringing at the taste. He was never a fan. He handed it towards her. 

“Thank you for escaping with me,” she mumbled. He smiled softly as he shoved his hands into his suit pockets. 

“Why do you need to escape your best friends wedding?” he questioned as his eyes landed on the softly lit dock next to a lake. He scanned the small orange glows on the lake. She took a deep breath. 

“I’m happy for her, but I may be a bit jealous,” she muttered. He nodded as he shifted his gaze towards her. She walked in front of him watching her begin walking down the dock. “I was engaged,” she mumbled as she spun around meeting his gaze for a brief second before she took a long sip of the champagne. 

“Was?” Cale questioned as he walked towards her, standing only a few inches away from her. She met his gaze, slowly scanning his features. Admiring the reddness of his cheeks and the small smirk to his lips. 

“He was an asshole,” she mumbled as she handed the bottle towards him. Cale hummed as his eyes admired the curve of her lips and he was suddenly very aware of how close she was to him. How unwilling he was to move away from her. “He would never do something spontaneous like this,” she uttered, taking in a shaky breath.

Cale smiled softly, “Neither would I, but a gorgeous girl asked me to run away with her. How could I say no?” he let out. His eyes widened as he ran a hand over his eyes, “That was a lot, sorry I’m drunk,” he mumbled as he brought the bottle towards his lips again. She laughed. 

“No, no, call me gorgeous again,” she mumbled. He dropped the champagne bottle onto the floor at the same time as he took a hold of her cheek pulling her towards him. He kissed her urgently, sloppily as she rested her hands against his chest. 

His now free hand took a hold of her waist pulling her towards him, closing all the space between them. She slid her hands from his chest to around his neck. She hummed against his lips as he used both of his hands against her hips as they began stumbling around, completely unaware of where they were. 

After a few seconds, that seemed like lifetimes, they stumbled and tripped over the edge of the dock. They separated as they fell into the lake. They both reappeared above from the water together, laughing together. 

“That did not happen!” she let out as she wiped her hand across her face, Cale shook his head, the water droplets landing on her face. She gasped as she splashed him. He chuckled as he splashed her back. 

“This is like my favorite suit,” he mumbled as he inched closer to her, their heads barely bopping above the water, the lake surprisingly deep. 

“Boo-who,” she pouted teasingly as she leaned towards him, kissing him so urgently as they barely stayed above the freezing water. 

He pulled away, gasping for air, “You’re like not real,” he mumbled as he ran his hands across her dress that now was skin tight to her frame under the water. She smiled softly as she pecked his lips as she panted.

[sonoyoung]

— Out of reach

roommate!dino x gn!reader | fluff + fake relationship + oblivious x oblivious(?) | 4.6k

a/n. long one, i spent a bit on this. I hope it's well received i don't really have anything to say i think it's cute lol, also very obviously obsessed with dino's smile.

“Please guys, you’re just being annoying now” you had invited your friends over for dinner to finally celebrate your new living space, you had been planning it since you had acquired the place. It was a nice spacious apartment in the city centre perfect for your busy life mainly centred in the area so you weren’t too bothered by the fact that you would have to share the space with a roommate – it was more than enough for two people. However, a warning on the gender of said neighbour would have saved you a lot of embarrassing moments from your first week.

He was a nice guy, Chan, pretty mindful of your presence and reserved enough so you could live freely. For that same reason you barely ever talked in the 5 months you had been sharing said living space, at first it didn’t bother you since you were occupied with settling in but recently it’s just felt awkward.

First instance, last week you had just got back from work and ordered takeout slightly more than you would usually, just in case he hadn’t eaten. Your first thought was that it would be the perfect excuse to actually have a genuine conversation. So as soon as you entered and saw him in the kitchen you let him know he was more than welcome to take a box of noodles, what you didn’t expect was that he would thank you, grab him box and retrieve to his room before you could even take a seat.

It felt even more confusing since he’d have no problem talking to you at the end of the day, it would be a short conversation just summarizing your separate days and by the end you’d be ready to go to your respective rooms. As convenient it was that you didn’t need to make conversation constantly just because you bumped into each other in the corridor, a huge part of you actually wanted to know him, you didn’t just want to be neighbours, with anyone else it would have been a different story, but something about Chan just had you interested.

Back to your friends on the living room floor filling the usual quiet space with so much laughter just from the joys of teasing your 21-year-old inexperienced self.

“No seriously, let’s go to the club right now. It’s that easy y/n, you don’t have to stay clueless to the pleasures of life” Joshua stated, getting up on his feet in unison with his words, you just watched him giggle as he struggled to find his balance thanks to the wide range of alcohol they had brought along with them, all very quickly consumed.

“I’m fine, sit down please before you hurt yourself” reaching out your hand for him to hold on to as he found his seat back on the carpet, beside you Wonwoo took the opportunity to pat your head reassuring you that you were not a lost cause.

As much as you wanted to deny it, all their nagging was getting to you, you knew they were all just playing around because you were easy to pick on but you needed to make it stop and you weren’t going to go to the club to get some chlamydia’d dick, a simple white lie should be enough, after all you hadn’t seen each other much in 5 months, a lot can happen in 5 months.

“You guys are actually so funny assuming I’m still the same person I was 5 months ago” your plan was to keep it as vague as possible just enough to get them thinking,

“As if you would have fucked someone without asking for our guidance…” Soonyoung rolled her eyes not buying your attempt and the others followed with agreeing laughs,

“Wait but isn’t her roommate a guy?” Vernon brought up after some thought, you had no plans of dragging Chan into this, but he wouldn’t have to know so it wouldn’t hurt right…?

All their attention was brought on you, and it felt like now or never, you would let them enjoy the lie for a week or two before breaking the news, just enough time for you to catch a breath and he would not have to deal with any of it, it was too perfect to let it go.

“You’re so nosy, please stop with the questions.”

“Shut the fuck up, you’re fucking your roommate?!” Wonwoo exclaimed loud enough for it to echo throughout the apartment, thank goodness he was out late today,

“You shut the fuck up, we don’t need the whole apartment complex knowing” technically you didn’t admit to it they just assumed you were being serious, they were easier to trick than you thought judging from their shocked faces staring at you.

“I thought we were besties how could you not tell me? You should have facetimed me while it was happening! What the actual fuck?” Soonyoung whined shaking you aggressively as if it would change the fact, just as you were about to justify yourself you were interrupted by a familiar face walking into the room. Your first instinct was to turn to your friends hoping they wouldn’t start their greetings with “How was it?”.

“Oh Chan! I thought you were coming in late, sorry about the mess” you smile at him warmly hoping he’ll leave to his room as he usually does, he greets everyone with a small wave and slight bow before bringing his attention to you,

“Yeah, I did it’s 2am y/n” you’re almost taken aback by the small laugh that escapes his lips, it’s not the first time you’ve seen or heard him laugh but something about it being directed at you hits you in a completely different way you almost forget to answer.

“Oh sorry, we’ll wrap up soon I wasn’t paying attention to the time.”

“Take your time I don’t mind, it’s our place after all” the way he said those words combined with the way he was looking at you and maybe the amount of alcohol in your system convinced you he heard everything earlier or that was ready to make it reality. He left the room after that without forgetting a sweet goodnight to everyone in the room his eyes never leaving for longer than a microsecond you in the process.

The scene had the perfect effect on your group, each apologizing for ever doubting you, however it left you questioning every exchange you ever had with him and how you never realized how everything about him was so alluring, you had to kick the kids out.

“I can’t believe you’re kicking us out for dick y/n, you have changed” Joshua shook his head as you stood between the door seeing them out after ordering them an Uber home, you patted his head gently before waving goodbye and closing the door shut, taking a minute to lean on it before heading back to the living room.

Just as you step in your roommate steps out, he looks at the empty room and then at you,

“You really didn’t have to send them out” he sighs in disbelief making his way to the kitchen, you hadn’t thought about how you’d approach the subject, so you just settled on lurking till he brought it up himself,

“They were getting on my nerves” there it was again, a soft chuckle from his direction making you look up at him instinctively just to get a glimpse of his smile – what is going on with you?

You ended up staying there a while with him, maybe it was the fact that you were both slightly intoxicated but neither of you felt an urge to leave the room, you talked, laughed and by the time the sun was rising you had forgotten why you chose to stay instead of sleeping after your company had left. After months of stagnant conversations, you finally had a real one, about your friends, your aspirations and now came the sudden fear that this was a one-time thing and after this night you would just go back to where you were,

“So… absolutely of topic but I need you to act like my boyfriend to those guys for… a week maybe?” seeing him laugh makes you realize you could have probably used a different approach to bring it up but at least it is out there.

“I was actually waiting for you to bring it up, your friend yelling really got me curious” you couldn’t help hiding your face in your hands, he knew this whole time. It somehow felt more embarrassing than randomly begging him to act like your boyfriend, you could tell he was smiling clearly amused by the situation, you could hear his footsteps approach you on the couch, his hands uncovering your hidden frown face to face with his caring smile,

“I’ll help you that’s not a problem, don’t worry” your frown changes into a soft pout showing your gratitude, he lets out a scoff unable to hide his smile “…you’re cute”.

The whole situation had you confused and hearing those from him didn’t help your case nor did the fact that he was so close to you that you could so easily lean into his… maybe you needed to rethink this, if you were to fake a relationship with your roommate you could fall for him and if you did fall for him it would be one sided 9 times out of 10 considering he’s only doing this to help you.

You laugh off the remark leaning back into your seat as far away as it would be considered a conversation between two new acquaintances, he watched as you did so, apparently everything you did he found humour in, trying to keep a straight face.

“That’s really nice of you Chan, I’ll probably just tell them the truth by tomorrow though” he nods understandingly, a part of you just wants to take the chance to see where this would go but it’s overruled by your mature mindset reminding you there would be no escape if you do.

The mood might have shifted or maybe it’s just the fact that it’s morning and neither of you slept, you watch as he shuffles in his pocket for his phone letting out a loud sigh as soon as it flashes on and there he goes, back on his feet on his way to his room,

“The offer still stands if you change your mind let me know, I’ll gladly do it” the emphasis on gladly made your head spin, “Try get some rest okay? I’ll see you later.”

A couple days would pass, and the solution would become clearer, you tried multiple times to reveal to your friends it was a joke and you had nothing going on with your roommate but somehow your denying only reenforced their suspicions. Your conclusion was to ignore them and hope that with time they’d come through, but their stubbornness was stronger than your patience and so the operation begun, you needed to plan everything out leading up to your inevitable breakup and you had Chan to help through the rollercoaster.

“5 months? I feel like we can get through this in 1” you read his conditions for the arrangement shocked by the absurdity of it all, but the time frame is the most shocking, there’s no way you’re surviving 5 months of fake boyfriend Chan.

“It’s all about the impact” you look at him in disbelief confused as to what that even meant, he just tells you to trust him and you just shrug it off just wanting to get through this. Just like that you were dating your roommate Lee Chan with a long list of conditions signed in a contract.

There are many ways this could have gone, you could act like you were dearly in love with each other when you were around your friends, you could even just share little looks or touches just enough to convince whoever was around that there was at least some affection, but you somehow found a way to be the most awkward pair of people, forget being in a relationship, it was up for debate if you even knew each other.

When Soonyoung first asked you to come along with him and Vernon for the exhibition they were planning on seeing together you had thought it would be the perfect opportunity to formally introduce Chan to your friends, you wouldn’t have to talk too much about anything unrelated to the exhibition and they could see a bit of your “relationship dynamic” but you should have known better since it was coming from Soonyoung,

“You guys are so awkward, what the fuck?” he teased as you sat around the lounge, the famous exhibition lasted about 10 mins guiding you into a room where you could eat and drink for free, so he had taken the opportunity to interrogate you on how your lives work at home and so far, you hadn’t come together on a single answer,

Chan turned to you making sure your eyes met before he leaned closer to meet your ear, “Should we make a run for it?” a soft laugh escaped your lips the smile lingering for a second before bringing your lips to his ear, “On three. One, Two, Three...”

“Oh fuck, we forgot the turkey” he leans back, his eyes widening from the sudden realization his fist covering his mouth as he turns to you, you watch his acting skills play out genuinely amused by the sudden scenario.

“Ah yes, the chick- the turkey, we have to hurry. I can’t believe we forgot.” Shaking your head at your clumsiness, getting up on your feet from the comfortable lounge seats. You let him slide his hand in yours, almost getting used to the quickening of your heart after experiencing it 6 times in the evening.

You take a final look at your friends at the table who are clearly confused by the situation, giving them a sorry smile before turning away to let Chan lead you out the restaurant, you can almost hear their “what the fuck was that?” as you walk out the door.

The whole journey back was just you both echoing laughter back and forth, it felt like you were genuinely enjoying each other’s presence so much so that once you got home you wanted it to continue, you wanted to laugh at his funny impressions and admire the look on his face when he watched you laugh, just for that look you wanted to only laugh for him.

“No seriously you’re so good at acting, I was struggling keeping up” his face brightens up as he watches you dump yourself on the couch, adoring the way your words slur together from the little alcohol you had drank earlier,

“You do know I’m an actor, right?” you prop up from the couch looking at him in utter shock as he grabbed drinks from the fridge, seeing your expression he let out a loud laugh flashing his teeth for a second before covering his mouth in his elbow.

“It’s mostly part time for now but that’s the goal” you nodded attentively genuinely impressed by his aspirations, he handed you a drink sitting beside you, and though he felt close it was a proximity you liked, it didn’t feel forced or rushed it was just right.

You spent the rest of the night delving into your thoughts and passions, the things you loved and hated, your goals and expectations of yourselves seeing how they somehow aligned together, how you had similar mindsets, similar hopes, beliefs it made you feel somewhat confused because of the position you put yourself in, it felt like once you were done with this mini phase of your lives you would move on, and all these similarities would mean nothing.

The alcohol in your system was no help in drowning those thoughts but you tried your best to focus on the present moment and how much you were enjoying your newfound friendship,

“Oh wait, there’s this movie,” you watch him reach over you for the remote noticing the subtle hair growth on his jawline as he inched close, your fingers almost reaching up to feel the skin just as he leaned back into his seat, “have you seen it?”

On the screen you read Boogie Nights then turn to him with a confused smile, the moment he saw your face he sighed with a wide smile, “Listen, not everyone has” you shake your head at his misjudgement,

“And I’m everyone?”

A quick apology and you had moved on, deciding on rewatching the adaptation from the comfort of your couch, it was starting to get hard to differentiate real from fake being in this moment watching a comfort movie with him on the couch, slightly intoxicated, you felt more like a couple that you did a few hours ago when you were meant to be. You let yourself relax into the warm embrace of the couch, shoulders brushing, skin touching but keeping your focus on the movie, easing into it more you rest your head on his shoulder.

It felt so natural you hadn’t even realized his arm around you, his fingertips on your skin tracing circular patterns, you liked his soft touch it wasn’t alarming, even though it was distracting it felt nice. You tried to keep your eyes focused on the screen, watching every scene but registering nothing but the images flashing back and forth, that was until the scene came on.

Sex scenes rarely bothered you, if anything you’d just let it pass or just skip though it but now you were bothered, you had forgot how explicit this film got and you didn’t want to seem like a wuss but the way his touch felt on your skin seemed completely different, now it was intimate paired with the images on the screen. The heat burning up in your face as you kept your eyes on the screen while being so close to him, being so touch starved and inexperienced, it was only driving you crazy.

“I’m so tired…” you yawn getting up as you did, he’s already smiling knowingly almost smirking at you, his arms crossed over his chest legs spread open, the images playing on loop in your head, you needed to leave, “I’m gonna sleep bye, good night, enjoy your movie.”

Things would slowly evolve in your play couple, and you would start to feel closer to Chan, it was an inevitable consequence of living together and having planned the whole thing together. Chan would be so kind and patient with you but not wanting to get to attached would brush it off as nothing and it was starting to feel like the roles had reversed and you were now the one avoid him finding refuge in your room.

Your feelings were already getting mixed up in the first week of faking it, so now every hand touch, smile, lingering gaze felt like something more and that felt stupid because you put yourself in this spot in the first place so you couldn’t be the one catching feelings. But there was something in the way he cared, even when no one was there, in the way he’d become so talkative when it was just you two in the room, in the way he voiced his thoughts openly to you, making sure you didn’t feel uncomfortable in any way, you weren’t sure but it brought you some sort of warmth, a feeling of security in whatever it was you had going.

“What a lovely surprise” you felt his arm watching it slide around your waist before looking up at him.

“Shit. Sorry. Reflex.” Pulling his hand away almost as soon as your eyes met, you didn’t actually want him to let go but you supposed it made sense, you were in public but no one here on this random street cared about if you were fucking or not, he clears his throat trying to move past the random awkwardness.

“It’s okay, I was just heading home you too?” he nodded with a soft smile, walking by your side through the quiet street, it was a quiet walk neither of you had much to say, your mind was to focused on the slight brush of your hands against each other at every slight movement, it felt like you would so easily lean in to the yearning and complete your fingers’ puzzle but it wasn’t that easy. He could feel it too, he tried fixing his gaze on the trees, the cars passing but his head would turn, and his eyes would land on you watching you deep in thought, maybe everything you did he found beauty in because he couldn’t just look away.

Amidst all the chaos of unrequited love, you didn’t realize how far the rumours of your relationship had been spread thanks to your small groups of gossip girls, that was until you got a message from one of your closer friends inviting you and Chan to a party the upcoming week, your first reflex was to call Wonwoo.

“No seriously I told them not to say anything, it already messy enough as it is” listening as he explained, you sighed falling flat on your bed, you had no intentions of making Chan go to that party just because of your dumb lie, “It’s not that bad, it’ll be mostly friends no one is gonna hang you I swear.”

Somehow you weren’t so sure of that, considering it had already been 3 months of you gaslighting your friends into believing you were very much sexually active with your friendly neighbour. As fun as it was playing the role it felt like your runtime was out and you needed to end the show.

You didn’t expect it to be so nerve racking to just end a simple contract earlier that agreed but as you approached the living room where Chan was sited you just wanted to act like nothing happened and continue acting like a couple forever. The confrontation part of breakup was obviously not your forte.

“Oh hi, y/n” he scanned your face for a second before continuing, “is everything okay?” you didn’t know it was so apparent on your face, now it just felt like you were making a big deal out of nothing, you nod taking a seat beside him on the couch.

“I think we should break up” the confused expression on his face forced you to clarify, “like you know… figuratively?” a soft smile grew across his lips at your sudden shyness,

“Yeah, why though? Did something happen?” he shifts slightly in his seat inching closer to you showing genuine concern, you shake your head reassuring him before explaining the situation to him, he listened attentively, as he always does, before speaking up.

“I don’t mind going, it’s kinda what I agreed to” he nods to himself before looking at you, your eyebrows are furrowed trying to understand why this was harder than you assumed it would be,

“Not really, I didn’t plan for it to go this far out.” You explain and he comforts you once again.

“Why?” the words slip out before you can filter them, “You’re not gaining anything from this, I don’t really get it.”

“I don’t know I just want to see this to the end, I guess” he shrugs, and you can hear the “oh” escape your lips you didn’t even know you had been hoping for a specific answer till it came out, you finally accept it and retrieve to your room.

So you went, you went together holding hands as usual, smiling at the compliments that were thrown at your couple, accepting the little touches of affection with a soft blush on your face. It wasn’t a small party, it was a birthday party almost a time capsule of everyone you had met over the years, it was funny to see them all in one place, but you couldn’t shake off the feeling of deceiving them and at this point it wasn’t even fun to you anymore. You watched Chan grinning amongst the chattering crowd, he got along with everyone so well, somehow made himself a space in your friendships, in your life and now it was screaming at you, how badly you wanted this to be real, his hand fit so perfectly in yours and for what.

After a while of just sucking in the hurt you finally excused yourself to the backyard, to get fresh air you said but you just wanted to escape the feeling. You didn’t expect the tears to flow in with the rush of cool breeze, but it was expected you had been holding back the whole night, you sat there just taking in the night sky trying to distract yourself. You wipe the tears abruptly as you hear the backdoor open, glancing toward the sound and there he was. He had taken off his jacket, the sleeveless shirt he had on hugged his body perfectly, you watched as he approached you with a lazy smile running his fingers through his hair, his arm muscles flexing as he did. You tear your gaze away from him surprised at how quickly your thoughts could evolve.

He took his seat beside you on the bench, placing his finger right on your chin to pull your gaze back to him, his face dropped at the sight of your red eyes, if anyone would have noticed through the waterproof make up of course it would be him. You turn your head back to the grass underneath your feet not expecting him to follow it kneeling on the grass before you. Just seeing his worried face made them rush back in, his soft hands cupping your face while his thumbs wiped off the drops on your cheeks.

“You don’t have to act like this no one is here” you sniffle your eyes dropping from the slight contact unable to face him,

“Hey, hey, hey” trying to grab your attention, wanting your eyes on his before he spoke again, “I’m not doing this for anyone but you.” Why did it hurt even though he was being so nice?

You could see his panic as your tears multiplied “I really think we should end this, I’m sorry I dragged you into all of this” he shakes his head franticly, pulling you into his arms where you let yourself sob some more.

“You barely dragged me, I did it ‘cause I wanted to help you,” his soft caresses on the back of your head soothe your cries as his whisper flutter against your ears, “’cause I wanted to know you”

You found yourself wanting to stay in his arms forever, so you pulled away, wiping your tears and apologizing for making a mess on his top, you finally force a smile through the heartache, he returns the smile letting his fingers slip back around yours, gentle rubs back and forth from his thumb to your knuckles. “I guess you know me now… what’s the final review?”

His eyes are fixed on your hands glued together, nibbling anxiously on his bottom lip before looking up at you, “I think I love you.” 

“What?” you could have stopped breathing from the shock, his gaze trails off, taking a deep breath before facing you again.

“Fuck— I’m sorry”

“Do you really?” you lean in closer to him hopefully, he looks up at you hesitantly, breathing out a quiet “More than you know.”

[reverie-starlight]

nia, you’ve inspired me to write this with that sleepover question you asked abt me n atsumu a while ago 🫶🏻🫶🏻 I live soley to bug him. it’s my favourite hobby. @luvring

gn!reader, no physical descriptions. fluff fluff fluff fluff fluff fluff fluff fluff fluff.

the faint humming of the television as it played whatever movie had been reduced to background noise is the only sound in your apartment’s tiny living room.

you’re laying on top of atsumu, who’s holding you so tightly against him to make sure you don’t roll off and hit the floor. it had been a lovely day together, going out for lunch and then spending the day at your place playing video games and watching movies. you had even attempted to cook dinner together (a task neither of you are particularly good at, but the simple Italian recipe you found seemed to work out well). you’ve been “sleeping” on his chest for the past half hour, but if you’re being honest, you’re slightly more awake than you’re pretending to be.

according to the clock on your wall, it’s 9:30. which means atsumu has to start heading home soon. it’s the time he set for himself and he’s always so good at keeping his schedule, but you don’t want him to go just yet.

…or at all.

you stay perfectly still on top of him without tensing up too much to avoid suspicion, hoping he’ll just forget and stay the night. with the way he’s gently rubbing one of his hands up and down the skin of your back, you almost fall asleep in his arms for real. but then you feel him slow to a stop.

he pulls his hand out from under your shirt, slowly, you assume it’s so he doesn’t ‘wake you up’, and sighs. you can just picture him checking his phone and realizing, so you do what any scheming partner would- you pretend to wrap your arms around him tighter and nuzzle into him in your sleep.

but atsumu’s observant. he knows you’re not actually sleeping (your breathing hadn’t quite evened out yet) but you are getting there, so he dares to disrupt the serene environment and kisses your forehead to soften the blow.

“baby,” he says, and you immediately shake your head in protest. “ya gotta move, sweetheart. it’s time for me to go.”

“noooo,” you whine, and he thinks it’s the cutest sound he’s ever heard.

he knows you don’t want him to leave just as much as he doesn’t want to leave either, but even though he hates the very idea of it, he has to be up early for practice and you live a bit further away than he’s willing to accommodate for on such short notice.

you nuzzle into his neck a bit more and he sighs again. “angel, please?”

you tilt your head up to look at him and he worries about the angle your neck is twisting at. he brings a hand up to cup the back of your head to keep you from moving it any more.

“‘tsum, please stay?”

turns out you were closer to falling asleep than he anticipated. your voice is so soft and clearly riddled with sleep that he almost caves.

but then he remembers last time this happened and how he had to wake up at 4:30 to make it back to his own apartment to shower, change and pack his gym bag.

and he shudders.

“lovebug, ya know I wish I could, but I really can’t this time. can ya let me up?”

you grumble a bit at the nickname, peering up to glare at him, and he thinks you’re really going to give in, but instead you just lock your legs tight around his.

of course you’re not making this easy for him. when do you ever?

“baby!” he can’t help but laugh, because he absolutely adores you for it.

“you can’t leave if you can’t move,” is what he thinks he hears muffled against his chest.

“that a challenge?”

you shrug and he just scoffs.

“cause if it is… I think we both know how quickly you’d be proven wrong.”

it’s true and you do in fact know it, but you’re just desperate enough to delude yourself into thinking you could keep him down with sheer determination alone.

so when you hold your ground and get defeated in milliseconds by him manhandling you and carrying you to your room, it’s a good thing you have a backup plan ready.

“okay, okay! you win, so your prize is taking me home with you for a sleepover at your place!”

he freezes just as he’s about to dump you on your bed (and presumably tuck you in so you don’t try and jump him on his way out like you have many times before).

atsumu wonders why he hadn’t thought of that as he breaks out into a wide grin. he curls you closer towards him and presses kisses all over your face and neck. “you and your beautiful brain! Oh I love ya so much,” and then he drops you onto the bed. “pack a bag, you’re comin’ over.”

ten minutes later, you’re out the door and no longer tired. it’s a struggle to lock your door when you’re still slung over his shoulder and trying not to laugh so loud that you wake up your neighbours, but like most other situations, he’s there to keep you steady.

“take your time babe, not like we’re in a rush,” he teases while swaying back and forth to make things harder.

you feel delirious, from love or being held upside down you’re not quite sure, but you giggle some more and smack his back. “‘atsumu, come on.”

he relents and soon enough you’re in his bed, playing with his hair. the roles seem to have reversed, because now he’s the sleepy one and you’re admiring the view.

you feel his breath tickle your neck and the goosebumps that follow. he nuzzles into you further and you can feel the movement of his lips when he says “we should have a forever sleepover.”

you turn into a puddle of goo. “yeah? you want to spend every night together?”

he nods and grumbles when you move your hand away from his hair. “wan’ ya with me every night. wanna come home to ya. and I wanna be the first thing ya see when you get home too.”

you coo at your sleepy golden retriever of a boyfriend and he hides his face against your shoulder. “you’re adorable when you’re tired, baby.”

“not as cute as you were earlier, that’s for sure.”

you smile and press a kiss to his scalp before forming a response for his unofficial proposal to move in together.

it’s not as though you haven’t thought about it. it’s constantly on your mind, especially since staying at his place has started to feel less like being a guest and more like an extension of your own home.

if he were to ask you properly, you would most definitely say yes, but since he’s half asleep and most likely doesn’t realize what he’s insinuating…

“we’ll talk about it more tomorrow after you get back from practice. sleep, angel, it’s late. I love you,” you whisper.

he nods a little and repeats the sentiment in a soft, slurred murmur before nodding off for the night.

you’re sure to hug him a little tighter as you drift off soon after and dream of him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

cheesy ending, but I’m feeling soft for him :( so can you really blame me??

tagging some more lovely people :3 @emmyrosee @dira333

[perseabeth]

The Promise of the Wild Sea

< this is not an official fic yet, i had this AU in my mind for a while, and now i got the time to write few parts of it. if the story was to your liking, i might get encouraged to make it an official fic. i’d like to remind you that i do not own any of the characters, as they all belong to the original myths and Rick Riordan. except for the oc Callista. however, i made some alternation in the myths that could benefit my story. i hope you like these changes. also this is a fem!percy version. enjoy reading >

- 1184 BCE, The fallen city of Troy -

Apollo stood in front of Callista’s pyre, the flames not yet lit, his gaze fixed on her lifeless face. Her once radiant beauty now drained, her cheeks no longer flushed with the color of life. Her hair, dark as the starless night, framed a visage that seemed at peace, a peace she had found only in death. Yet, she had stolen his peace with her departure, leaving him hollow and bereft.

With painstaking care, he had smoothed away every bruise, every mark of the cruelty she had endured, wishing to present her to the underworld in the full splendor of her glory. His Callista, his heart. He clutched the two drachmas in his hand, the coins a symbol of her final journey, but to him, they were a cruel reminder of his eternal separation from her. How could he consign her to the underworld, knowing he would be condemned to an eternity without her by his side?

His soul ached with a grief that seemed too vast to contain. With a trembling breath, he placed the drachmas on her closed eyes, sealing her fate, preparing her for her voyage to the underworld. She deserved a realm free from the sorrows of war and the sting of death, a place of peace and light. He swore on his immortal soul that she would find solace in Elysium.

Apollo leaned down, his tears falling like rain upon her serene face, pressing a final kiss to her cold, unresponsive forehead.

“Farewell, my Callista... until we meet again, my angel.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sun god cradled her cheeks in his trembling hands, his soy blue eyes filled with the agony of days spent pleading with his uncle, the merciless lord of death, for this moment. She was there in his embrace, radiant as the true princess she was, her beauty untouched by the shadows of the underworld. Her black hair cascaded down her back like the soft night sky, a dark tapestry embroidered with stars in silken threads. Her eyes, those mesmerizing sea-green eyes, gazed up at him—the very eyes he had yearned to kiss open one last time before cruel fate tore her away.

But nothing unfolded as he had hoped.

"My lord," Callista whispered, her eyes shining with boundless love for the man before her. She wore a white, elegant chiton that clung to her form with an ethereal grace, adorned with a delicate laurel crown—a vision of Trojan royalty. Apollo shook his head, refusing to accept the words forming on her lips. "No, you are coming with me," he implored, tears welling up in his sky-blue eyes, each drop a testament to his anguish. He was begging, pleading for her to return with him to the world of the living.

The princess before him shook her head gently, her gaze unwavering. "No, my lord, I am dead. I am happy here," she said softly. She took his palm, still cradling her cheek, and pressed a tender kiss upon it, as if sealing their fates with that simple, heartbreaking act. "You must respect the rules of death, my love. You must go on and find happiness in the lands of the living."

Her words stabbed his heart, despite the delicateness of her voice, despite the sweetness of her words, and despite the loveliness of her eyes. She was pushing him away, each word like a dagger twisting deeper.

Callista looked at him again, her gaze filled with a sorrowful resolve. "I'm with my family, and you should be with yours. Lord Zeus will not be tolerable when he hears that you brought me back from death."

Apollo tried to reason with her, desperation lacing his voice. "But Uncle Hades has already accepted," he argued, only to be met with another tender kiss on his palm from Callista.

"I'm not letting you get into an argument with your father," she replied softly. She lifted her hand and gently caressed the strand of his hair falling on his forehead. Her melodic voice continued, soothing yet heartbreaking. "You will live on. You will find happiness again, I'm sure."

"My happiness is with you only," he insisted, his voice breaking.

But Callista only shook her head with a sad smile. "That's what you're saying now, because the pain is so new. But trust me, my love... time will go on, life will go on." She looked into his eyes, her determination unyielding. He knew there was no way to change her heart. She gave him a beautiful smile that could have brightened his days if not for their situation. "You did all you could. You made sure I found my final rest in a beautiful place. Now it's your turn to let go... to move on."

Apollo's tears threatened to fall, threatening to drown his eyes. He did the only thing he could do in that moment; he planted a soft, small kiss on her lips, a goodbye kiss filled with all the sorrow of a love that could never be. It was a kiss that spoke of unending longing and the crushing weight of farewell.

He would never force her to do anything. If she was happy, he would be happy, even if it meant an immortal lifetime of his heart shattering every day he remembered that she wasn't waking up next to him.

His time in the underworld was ticking away, leaving him with precious few moments to spare in the arms of his beloved. How cruel fate is, he thought, that even time refuses to grant him a longer respite to find peace in her embrace one last time.

He kissed her forehead once more, a goodbye kiss—the same kiss he had planted on her brow the day of her pyre, the day they consigned her body to the flames in a solemn ritual of farewell. He looked into those beautiful eyes one last time. "I swear to you, I’ll always find you in the stars, in the calm oceans, in the beautiful sunlight, in the warm flames, and in the serene mountains. You will always haunt me, forever haunt my life, Callista."

This earned him a sad smile from her beloved face, and he realized he loved all her smiles except this one. "Who knows, maybe someday you will find me again, amidst the moors or maybe in the wild sea."

He nodded, a silent nod, as a single tear traced a path down his cheek. He kissed her hands one last time and turned his back, leaving his beloved, leaving his heart, leaving the bane of his soul in Elysium, where she belonged. Before he stepped away, he turned to her one last time. "Someday, I’ll find you in the wild sea."

With that, Apollo left the underworld, each step a testament to the immortal lifetime of sorrow that awaited him, a sorrow he would bear for the love he could never truly hold again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

- December, 2007. New York City-

"And now, sis. Transportation for the Hunters, you say? Good timing. I was just about ready to roll.

"These demigods will also need a ride," Artemis said, pointing to us. "Some of Chiron's campers."

"No problem!" Apollo checked us out. "Let's see... Thalia, right? I've heard all about you."

Thalia blushed. "Hi, Lord Apollo."

"Zeus's girl, yes? Makes you my half sister. Used to be a tree, didn't you? Glad you're back. I hate it when pretty girls turn into trees. Man, I remember one time—"

"Brother," Artemis said. "You should get going."

"Oh, right." Then his gaze landed on me, and his eyes widened with a mixture of shock and recognition, as if he had glimpsed a long-lost memory. The once vibrant blue of his eyes now bore golden freckles, a haunting reminder of his divine nature. "Callista?"

I met his gaze, my heart pounding with confusion and uncertainty. Was he mistaking me for someone else, someone from his past? “No. I mean... no, sir."

Calling a teenager "sir" felt awkward, but I knew better than to offend an immortal. They were known to have volatile tempers, and tended to get offended easily. Then they blew stuff up. and now Apollo seems to be on verge of blowing things up, or me perhaps.

His silence stretched on, his eyes still fixed on me, probing and searching. It was as if he was peering into my soul, unraveling the layers of my being with each passing moment.

Eventually, his gaze shifted to his sister, Artemis, who offered him a subtle shake of her head. Their silent exchange felt like a wordless, deep conversation, conveying a depth of understanding that transcended spoken words. Apollo cleared his throat, breaking the tension that hung in the air, before turning his attention back to me.

His gaze shifted abruptly from sheer confusion to a myriad of emotions I couldn't quite pinpoint. It reminded me of the way my mom once described my reaction to blue cookies or a serene beach—a mix of wonder and longing. Yet, as he looked at me, I saw something more. His eyes, now a crystal-clear sky blue, brimmed with an affection that seemed to encompass the entire world. It was a strange sensation, one that left me feeling oddly nervous, knowing that he was a god who could unleash his power at any moment. If it were anyone else, I might have blushed under their gaze. But facing a god for the first time, unsure if he was friend or foe, left me feeling unsettled rather than flustered.

"Percy Jackson," Apollo's voice cut through the tense silence like a blade. For a moment, it felt as though time itself had frozen, as if I were caught in a web of his penetrating gaze. I nodded silently. Then, without a word, he turned away, his attention shifting back to the group. The weight of his gaze that seemed to convey the burden of centuries, left me unsettled.

"Well!" he exclaimed in a cheerful voice again, as if the past few moments were nothing, breaking the silence. "We'd better load up, huh? The ride only goes one way—west. And if you miss it, you miss it."

—

i’d love to hear your opinion about this.

[goodnightoilcountry]

you must like me for me - quinn hughes (a sneak peak !)

a/n: another fic idea i've had in my head for ages ! i started writing it the other day when i was sick and it's currently at 3k words. i'm CONFIDENT that i'll smash this one out quicker than my aho fic so it's the only reason i feel like i can post a sneak peak. but also let me know if you have any requests or ideas you'd like me to write about - i'd love to hear from you 🤍

summary: twelve months since the incident and you're ready to let yourself re-emerge into the public eye in the form of a hockey game. the plan was simple: appear, smile, leave unscathed. easy, right?

The theory of fight or flight has always fascinated you. In the face of adversity, no matter how complex the situation, millions of years of evolution still dictate that humanity will always revert to its oldest survival mechanism: to either assert and neutralize, or: evade and withdraw. 

What you’ve come to learn is that there’s a third strategy nestled between fight or flight, often overlooked because of its passiveness in comparison to its overt counterparts: to freeze. 

And that’s the instinct you’ve found yourself falling back on time and time again. As if you’re hoping to blend into the very fabric of the environment where you can pause amid the chaos, weigh the risks, and soundly determine the best course of action. 

The downturn? 

You’re left vulnerable and exposed the longer you wait. 

But it’s a tactic that you’ve grown familiar with, and it’s the one that’s currently in motion. 

“You can’t do this to her, she isn’t ready.”

“It’s been over a year, we can’t let her hide forever.” 

The commotion of voices being thrown around surrounds you but you’re too swept up with the memories and emotions battling out in your head. They’re leaving you dizzy and disorientated. 

One year. Had it really been that long? God. It feels like one month since you first signed your contract in front of a roomful of lawyers and high-powered executives. Back then, you were too naively charmed by the golden promises of stardom and fame that they were selling you. Promising that your talent for lyricism, bordering on poetry, would resonate with the hearts of girls who all seemed to unanimously share the parallel experiences of all things love and girlhood. That you needed a team that could provide you with the right connections and the right opportunities to get you there. 

And to their credit, they didn’t fail you. As soon as you signed your contract, the label had you in the studio effective immediately with the release of “your” song debuting four weeks later. 

“But I didn’t write this and it doesn’t really sound like me…” 

“Don’t worry about it, honey. We just need to get you on the charts and then you can write about anything you want. Trust us - this is how it all works.” 

And trust them you did.

Your song topped the charts for twelve consecutive weeks. The events that took place after your overnight success were a whirlwind. You released a music video. You did media interviews. You collabed with DJs to release remixes. You performed as a guest on endless TV shows. And when you were done, you thought that you would finally be able to sit down with your producers to start developing the library of ideas and single-line lyrics you had swimming around in your head. 

But they had other plans for you in the form of a studio album, and then rinse and repeat. You felt like you were a human cannonball: shot out, forced to perform carefully curated tricks, and to always stick the landing. 

Your team had done everything they could to meticulously craft your image; selectively allowing journalists to access certain stories whether it be about your work or your life. You were America’s Darling. Until you weren’t. 

A sharp trill of your name grounds you back into reality. You blink and recompose yourself, finding the same four people you entered the boardroom with, staring expectantly back at you. Your mom, your manager, Megan, your publicist, Bec, and sat opposite you across the insanely large table is the VP of your label, Joe. Their expressions are ones you’ve grown used to: sympathetic and slightly defeated.  

“Sorry, what was the question?” 

Megan sighs and shifts slightly in her chair to meet your front. “Darling, I know how hard this year has been for you,” 

Do you? 

“But it’s time for us to come back out. We need to face this.” 

In all the years you’ve worked with Megan, she has never offered you such softness in her voice as she has now. As a manager, a female manager in this industry nonetheless, she had been nothing short of headstrong, sharp, and commanding. Her confidence and demeanour never wavered and, if you were being honest, you were thankful that she held you to the same standard as the rest of your team. It equipped you with a thick skin, something that you wouldn’t have survived your young career without. And it leaves you to wonder where you would be now without her to guide you through this situation. 

“Megan is right,” Joe says. “The world hasn’t forgotten, you know.” 

It comes out so matter-of-factly that it feels almost accusatory. 

“You’re not the first celebrity to be wrapped up in a scandal and you certainly won’t be the last.” 

That line is enough to make your mom snap into a fury again. 

“A scandal? She did nothing wrong,” she chastises. “What that boy did is not her fault.” 

Joe’s impatience is growing evident with every turn of the conversation. As warranted as your mother’s protectiveness is for this particular circumstance, her resistance was stopping one of his biggest artists from bringing in the label money. You can tell he's trying his best to level his demeanour but you also know that the higher-ups are breathing down his neck. He's balancing it as well as anyone could.

“This wasn’t just any boy. And your daughter is not just any girl. The reality of the situation is that just because she wasn’t responsible for what happened, doesn’t mean we can simply erase her from it,” Joe breaks, voice raising ever so slightly.

“She cannot keep silent on this anymore and the longer we stretch this out, the more intense the backlash will be upon her,” he presses on. “With all due respect, we have been extremely patient and have afforded your daughter twelve months. But this is a business first and there is a contract to be upheld. We are giving you the opportunity to write the narrative or have it forced to be written for you.” 

“He’s right,” Bec interjects. She’s always had a good gauge of when to step in when tensions start rising. It’s what makes her such a great publicist - always mediating at the right time. 

“But we don’t have to rush either. We can take it slowly. Start off with a public appearance in a controlled environment. 

The juxtaposition of that sentence could have made you laugh. Controlled environment? If the last few years had taught you anything, it was that no public appearance was ever fully in your control. Your phone number had been leaked more times than you could remember; the media showed up at your house at all hours of the night; private family events were invaded by obsessed “fans”. 

Your mom was quick to make the same connection, “where could we possibly let her go that guarantees her safety?” 

“The suite at MSG has their security system locked down to a tee. We could place her in there with a few friends and guise it as a quiet night out to show their support. Maybe work with the organisation to show her on the scoreboard during a break, totally candid of course, and maybe meet with their guest of the night for some fan engagement. We don’t want the public to misconstrue the appearance as a total cover-up.” Bec rattles off like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

Megan and Joe start nodding in agreeance, chiming in with additional tweaks to the plan that’s now been laid out, and it becomes apparent to you that they’ve had this meeting before without you. Your requested input and presence on the matter was just an act of courtesy. But as vexed as you are with this realisation, you know it makes sense. You were tired of the pitied looks your family and friends gave you, afraid to broach the subject as if it would send you into a spiral. You felt like the public owned you; shunning you into silence with all your actions picked apart and psychoanalyzed everywhere you turned. 

You missed your fans who called for you every day, writing sweet notes of encouragement and rebuffing shallow attempts of hate accounts concocting false stories. You wouldn’t be half the artist you are today without them and they deserved more than just radio silence. And it’s this last thought that makes you believe it’s the only reason you say:

“Just tell me when.” 

[multifandomslxt]

Nct 127 Members and Cheating Partners

I enjoy doing these... I think I'm helping us keep our delulu meters at an acceptable state hehe.

WARNING: cheating. degradation (not the good type we like)

Taeil

Istg

it hurts me to say this but if this man is in love with you

he's all for second chances

oml

"Tell me what I can do to fix it"

crying and screaming

constantly asking you what he did wrong to make you cheat

all in all, it doesn't matter what It is

if he loves you

you are going nowhere

leave him and he will spiral

Johnny

don't even bother

just pack your shit and leave

says some shit that will stick with you for life

"you're fucking disgusting and a waste of time"

he hates you now

I'm so serious

idk why but I see him hating cheaters of any sort

fuck you and that bitch

bye

Taeyong

oml

this man is a cancer

do not play with a cancer's feelings

I am so serious

he'll cry for sure

in a moment of weakness will ask if you still want him

but ultimately leaves you

"Why would you do this to me?"

and then starts plotting your demise a week later

I've said before that he's a manipulative lil shit

this man will turn your best friend against you I swear

Yuta

Lmaooo

I'm sorry this is hilarious

cheating on a scorpio?

HAHAHAHAHAHAHA

kiss your self-esteem goodbye

Hate isn't even a good enough word to describe his feelings for you rn

cheat on him and he quite literally wishes you the worst

lmaoooo

becomes your bully

Doyoung

oh love

sweetie pie

my sugar muffin

he clocked that shit a long time ago

He's very attentive to his partner

so he sees the change immediately

yk those movie scenes where the couple is going about their regular routine and one of the asks "who's __?"

yep

quite literally stuns you

"did you not hear me?"

get out of his house

now

Jaehyun

HAHAHAHAHA

He'll cheat back

plain and simple

he won't tell you of course

just like you didn't tell him

found out by mistake

so honestly y'all just keep cheating on each other

lmaoo

he believes in getting his lick back trust.

His aim here is to ensure you are more hurt than he is if all this comes to light.

Jungwoo

I feel bad

but I think he's worse than Taeil

he doesn't acknowledge it at all

like some type of delusional man

istg

if he does acknowledge it he says

"it's just a small bump that's all"

like...at some point you gotta tell him what you did was wong

literally refuses to make you the bad guy

it's sad

Mark

Oh God.

He SPIRALSSSS

istg

stuck between leaving you and giving you a second chance

insecurity central

reanalyzes every single past interaction you've had with men who you said were "just a friend"

I don't think y'all understand

when I say spiraI mean he SPIRALSS

he'll never be the same with or without you

Haechan

My best advice to you is to get out of his face.

the minute you do it

move out, block him on all socials, delete his number

just get away from him

he will treat you like the scum of the earth

oml

"your pussy is for everybody"

and he means it babe

does not hide his disgust when he sees you

YUTA 2.0

[pervile]

we have it all (i have you)

⸻ bottom al haitham & top male reader. adult content. mdni. combination of praise and degradation, pet names, anal sex, cowgirl & mating press position, rough sex, he passes out lol, momentary cuddling, cockwarming. 1.6k wc.

your hips are flush against alhaitham's pelvis, his palms flat and fingers fluttering against your chest in an attempt of pushing you away from him.

he thinks you're so big like this―the position you have him in makes his mind do a frenzy of somersaults, and he swears he can feel you swell bigger inside of his hole when you scrutinise the array of indecent expressions forming on his countenance.

this was now the nth round, already having you a smitten mess―you couldn't help but dig your fingers deeper into the fleshy skin of his hips that has his legs looping around your waist clumsily for support.

you never realised how pretty alhaitham could look until this very moment, like time had paused completely and the aloofly whimsical scribe was nowhere to be found in your burning presence. although, his snarky tone and cheeky smile still lingered at the back of your mind, this was still a sight to behold and one you're never going to forget about.

no one can see him like this, except for you. it was a cute side only alhaitham showed you when he had enough confidence to provoke you out of anger.

of course, it always started with that emotion.

however, he soon came to realise that being man-handled was a favourite hobby of his, that little facade quickly melting away when you press the slightest heat against any of his erogenous zones.

it was quite easy, honestly, especially when he practically begged to be dicked down on a late friday night due to stress. it became a habit, and then a routine, and then an...addiction. it got so bad that his roommate kaveh almost ended up joining in with the two of you. not like you could refuse him, but alhaitham ignored you for two weeks straight after that encounter, even though he was the one crying out your name.

alhaitham was beautiful like this, though, you thought, so much saliva coating the dry cracks of his lips that guided you down memory lane of how this whole thing instigated in the first place.

it was easy to rile alhaitham up―he was generally a man that didn't cop a lot of shit, but only did so when using his whole body weight on you to stop you from ridiculing him. he was a large guy, so you expected something like this to happen since expressing emotions were arbitrary, depending on his mood.

he hates to be teased, and he especially hates it when its done mockingly. sometimes he's a brat, other times he's puny in your arms―just like now. he's feeble and achingly sensitive under your manoeuvres because you know where all of his sensitive areas are.

it's easy. he was a simple man. with simple needs. all you needed to do was make him want you indispensably―like his life depended on you and all the things that you did to him.

you lean back on your heels, lifting alhaithams hips up that has your cock head inquiring the squishiness of his prostate. you stay there momentarily before reclining back into the bed with your arms looped around his abdomen, a wide smirk forming on your lips when you station comfortably.

he's on top of you now, knees positioned at each side of your v-line, panting, and giving you the evilest glare imaginable. yet, it failed to hide the evident red blooming across the apples of his cheeks.

he knew exactly the type of shit you were up to.

"move your slutty little ass for me haitham." you call out to him from below in a bullish tone, lifting your knees up and spreading your legs that has your thighs meeting his ass half way.

he keens from this action, a loud click of his tongue fading into a small grunt, wet eyelashes fluttering against cheeks.

alhaitham moves slowly at first―readjusting to the new position and how your cock probes his walls meticulously.

"big."

you hear him mumble, a little bit ditzy-looking when you notice he can't focus on your face clearly. he lifts himself up and allows half of your cock to spill out of him, and then he grabs ahold of your knees before slithering back down to meet your pelvic bone again, giving his own body a quick wiggle that has his legs quivering.

you stroke his leaking crown and then flicker your hungry gaze back up to meet his. that look in his eyes did unimaginable things to you―if only alhaitham knew what he looked right now, maybe he'd feel some sort of shame or embarrassment for being such a cock hungry whore for your dick.

and maybe, just maybe, teasing him would go so much easier if he admitted how cute he was.

after a while with your hands restricted under your head in view of his achingly slow ministrations, you lift them out and grab his hips before slamming yourself into him impatiently.

he hisses from this action and collapses onto your chest, his nose nudging the cologne of your neck and it makes him tense up. his ear loosely traced the skin of your lips, giving you leeway to whisper nasty thoughts into his head as you continuously sink into his hole.

"you can do better than that, baby..."

"this hole of your is such a fucking slut. did you know that? hmm?"

"what was that, darling? i'm not done with you yet. i haven't filled this belly of yours to the brim with my cum."

"you look so pathetic like this, y'know? so pathetic and clueless, its so cute. i want to eat you up."

"stop complaining and just take my cock already."

"use your words."

it wasn't long before alhaitham spilled over the expanse of your abdomen and chest, that string of self-dignity finally snapping when he realised just how good you made him feel. he croacked incoherents about how sensitive his tip was and how raw his ass felt with your cock stuffing it.

alhaitham leaned back slowly, lifting himself up to gaze down at you with half-lidded eyes―he was a big man, with a big attitude and a big need of security, but that never stopped you from making him feel good.

yet there was still a sense of authority dancing behind those beautiful emerald eyes and it made you shiver. you couldn't tell whether or not he was still pissed off at you from that argument prior to fucking his ass open, but it compels you to smirk up at him just recalling it, nonetheless.

and then he starts to move his ass against your pelvis, bringing you back to the present moment as he rode you.

you hiss when he does so, throwing a hand over his ass and squeezing the flesh before involuntarily bucking your knees upward and hips into him.

you let out a puff of hot air before swooping an arm around his waist and putting him flat into a matting press. his knees press to the bed and he cries out your name when you angle your hips correctly into him.

"fuck, you asshole- i just came!" alhaitham whines, anxiously shifting his gaze between his bobbing dick and your flushed face.

you bite your bottom lip, releasing it, and then leaning into his ear to whisper, "would you rather me go slow, like, this? instead?"

you pull out of him gently that leaves a popping sound resonate in the atmosphere, his asshole twitching from feeling so empty, before stuffing your angry cock back into him. the gradual movement makes him pant desperately, tears brimming in his eyes that forces the man below you to look up and hold your gaze for some sort of comfort.

the pressure in his belly was getting too intense.

he was giving you this look of, probably, along the lines of, "fuck you dirty bastard. i hate you and your stupidly big dick." something something. you held his eye contact until he broke it first when you found that sweet spot inside of him again, bullying it over and over again.

alhaitham then wraps both arms around your neck and pulls you into him, your nose cramped in the corner between his shoulder and jaw.

"please, please-"

you recline with him still attached to you like a leech desperate for more blood, raising a brow at him, "you don't like it when i go slow like this? i can feel you twitching like crazy. your slutty hole is eating me right up."

the man below you flushes pathetically at this, his asshole responding more to your words than his face, and his face is showing more than you needed to know.

you then increase your pace and the moans finally slip freely from his lips, mumbling a quiet string of words like, "so good, so good. i feel so full. right- there. i think 'm gonna cum again..."

the amount of times that he had relieved himself should be a record, but that wasn't hard considering you still hadn't given him your first offering yet. and it felt like a big one, building up in your system.

"you want me to breed this little hole of yours? hmm? 'm not tryna get you pregnant baby, promise."

alhaitham chokes on his words before pathetically, rolling his eyes, before whining a "please" and "yes, yes, please cum in me. fill me up", that has you tripping over the edge.

fucking into him now at an unimaginable pace, you ease off after one final thrust, dragging your body into him that has alhaitham clawing at your back and tears dripping onto your shoulder. when you lean back and pull out of him, his eyelids are shut and there is a placid expression on his face.

you smile contently to yourself, pulling one of his ass cheeks to the side to watch your seed ooze out of him.

"what a waste..." you sigh, lining up your cockhead and sheathing yourself completely inside of him again.

you begin to move alhaitham into a little spoon position, planting kisses along the sweaty expanse of behind his ear, and neck, sensing his steadied pulse, then finally ending at his shoulder.

"goodnight, my love."

[charlieisannoying]

A perfect case for my certain skillset

Platonic CF 99 X Jedi!GNReader Summary: Clone Force 99 is getting a Jedi, as if that could ever work out for the band of misfits. The worst thing? They're not even getting a General. First meetings will always go a little sideways, but the Force will right things in the end (Or so Hunter is told.) Word Count: 2,215

Hunter was tired.

He could feel a headache slowly blossoming under his skull, burrowing itself deeper and deeper, setting alight every nerve–

This was not the right moment for this. He had a mission to do.

It was simple, really.

They haven't been on the field that long anyways and they were a special case anyways. Their assignments, although they wrecked absolute havoc on the world around them were successes. They were still tasting the small bits of freedom between each missions, still overwhelmed with the fact that this was their life – the four of them against the world. While their... fondness over the regs was tested each and every time they came in contact with them, Commander Cody was a special case.

Even Crosshair was silent around that man, his snark nowhere to be found.

So when Commander Cody had commed him, letting him know that his pack, his own Clone Force 99, was supposed to get a handler... Well, Hunter was glad he wasn't alone when he received the news. He did not want to be the one to break the news to his brothers.

Still.

Getting a Jedi General was something even he was supposed to get used to.

It's not that he didn't want a superior officer or that he didn't like Jedi (although, truth to be told his experiences with other Jedi that Master Ti were rather... closer to 0 than any other number), but...

... he wanted to keep his brothers safe, close to himself and only himself. He heard through the ever evolving vod grape-vine that the Jedi were kind and understanding and they were all normal beings, not gods. His mind told him he was exaggerating, that it was in his very nature to protect his brothers...

But would his Jedi not only understand, but also listen to Tech's need to always fix something and explain and research? Will they leave Crosshair be and just exist in the presence of his brothers after a particular rough mission? Will they see how smart Wrecker is or will they just see his bulk and write him off.

Well. Clones were nothing if not adaptable.

'You don't have to be nervous about it.'

Cody's eyes were kind when he said it. They also seemed sad, but that couldn't possibly be true. Commanders knew how and when to say things. Commanders gave orders that no other clone could. Commanders swallowed their grief.

'I am not in the position to reveal anything but...' the Commander's nose flared and he bit on the inside of his cheek, as if searching for the right words. '...this assignment of the Jedi to your batch is more for the well being of themselves than a punishment to you boys.'

As if.

Look, Hunter could agree that their plans were wild, reckless and often enough sputtered into nothingness as soon as a mission started. But they accomplished their missions. They always were successful.

But siccing a Jedi on them?

This would never solve their... creative solutions for their already dangerous missions.

'When should we expect to report under our Jedi then, sir?' Tech's voice was crisp and perfectly measured, skilfully hiding how he felt in that moment from everybody. Well, everybody except Hunter. He could hear Tech's heartbeat skip in a pretty concerning way every so often and could start smelling his anxieties over the matter.

At that question, Cody allowed himself once grimace.

'That's your first job. Your Jedi Commander has... left our ship without telling us where they were going and we were called to aid the 501st.' What? Hunter's impending headache must have messed up his hearing, because why would a Jedi just... leave? Cody continued on, bringing Hunter back to the briefing. 'Their comm was last online in one of the lower levels of the city. It would be wise to check first some of the bars without attracting any unwanted attention.'

Lower levels? Bars? It seemed that all of his brothers were having the same reaction because they all had the what in Prime's tits is doing their Jedi in a bar face.

Something must have taken the Commanders attention away from them and their bewildered faces, because he didn't comment on their lack of response. Before he closed, he did wish them good luck, and that must have meant something, right?

By the sound of Tech's tapping on his data pad, Hunter was sure that every tidbit of information over their Jedi would be soon in their hands. He could always count on his brother's

'Wait, what did he mean by Jedi Commander?'

—

His headache was definetly getting worse.

This was the fifth? Or was it the sixth bar they searched? The vibrations of the bass and drums sent painful spikes from his skull down to his finger tips. This was promising some very painful next few days. And if they wouldn't find thei Jedi, his headache will become even worse and then Crosshair will see it, because of course the little shit was just as observant as his eyesight was perfect and–

'I just say we leave this damn Jedi find us instead. We're soldiers, not babysitters.'

Ah, kark it.

This was absolutely perfect. Now he also got Crosshairs snark to add of the things that were annoying him in that moment.

The lights were blinding him.

The music was getting louder and louder and he couldn't think, his brother's arm on his shoulder was like sand paper on his skin, although he had both his blacks and his armour on and why was the music so karking loud–

'You okay there buddy?'

If Hunter was at his peak he would notice that you were holding a fuzzy, colorful drink in your hands, the type that would come with small umbrellas and would wreck anyone in two gulps. Except he couldn't smell the alcohol. At all.

Your clothes seemingly resembled Jedi robes, the teal outer robes mixing with a tan tunic and brown pants. Small dots littered your sleeves, as if they were painstakingly embroidered, slowly combating the simpleness of normal Jedi apparel. Your hair was stuck to your forehead as if you'd been jumping the whole night and your eyes–

Maker, your eyes.

He could say that they were pretty because they were surrounded by blue glitter, and lined with black as if you were trying to capture everyone around you. You didn't break contact with him, as if trying to scan and read and see right through him, a small glint in your eyes indicating nothing but trouble.

But no.

Your eyes were sad. As if you knew something he didn't, as if you've lost and lost and lost, and you couldn't quite believe that you won't lose again. Hunter just wanted to bundle you up and take you far away from the war that just takes from beings.

Where were these thoughts coming from?

There was something else.

All he could focus was that the sounds were...gone. All those terrible sounds that were scratching the inside of his brain did not make him want to keel over and cover his ears.

He could still hear his brother's heartbeats, Tech's tapping, Crosshair grinding his teeth over another toothpick (where was he getting them??) and Wreckers fiddling with bits of an explosive.

Even those accursed lights seemed dimmed.

'You with me, Sarge?' Your brows were furrowed, as if you were trying to read him. And in the end, who even were you, why would you care–

Oh.

You were his Jedi. Were you the reason this place was more bearable now? Could the force even do that?

Wrecker snorted. Wait, why was Wrecker laughing?

That weird glint returned to your face, a small smile pulling over your lips. 'It's a Force Bubble. Helps me with my own migraines, and I though it would help you too.' You continued, the frown making an appearance once again. 'You were projecting your pain quite...hm...strongly across the lower levels. And anyways, what is Clone Force 99 doing here? We were supposed to meet tomorrow.'

Did he say that out loud?

That admittedly subdued headache was going to be the end of him.

'Technically, it is tomorrow.' Tech's voice was a bit harsh, not like his usual calm and calculated cadence. Were his brothers also starting to feel the simmering anger rising? They were out there, trying to find them, and... what? Their Jedi thought that giving Hunter a small respite would fix everything?

Before his thoughts could spiral even further, you had the decency to look... not ashamed, but guilty.

'Ah, my apologies then. I just wanted to...' You mulled over your words, trying to find the perfect one. You seemed to do that a lot, as if being able to choose your own words was something new, something not yet experienced. '...well, just be a Jedi for one more night and not a Commander.' You're eyes crinkled slightly as you smiled, as if laughing at a joke.

Hunter wasn't aware Jedi's sense of humour was so subtle. In fact, he heard quite the opposite from various other Commanders. Returning his attention back to you, you seemed to be already thinking about something else. Your face was already angled towards the back of the bar, where a small raised platform was created. A guitar was nestled against a box pretending to be a stool. A microphone completed the set, as if beaconing courageous drunks to sing something.

It seemed not only Hunter noticed your divided attention.

'Something else you've got to do, Jedi?' Kark Crosshair and his big mouth. Hunter was not in the mood to fight a decommission report to save his dear, dear brother. His headache was threatening to become a migraine once again.

This seemed to catch your attention once again. Shoulders pulled back, the blue robes did not seem to swallow you anymore. A small quirk of your eyebrow betrayed your amusement.

'You've crashed my set, actually. You guys are not exactly low profile.' Set? Did you sing? Is that your drink was all for show? All sadness was gone for a moment from your eyes, a fierce glint taking its place. 'I'm sorry you're tired and cranky... Crosshair, is it? So why don't you get a nice little drink from the bar and enjoy the show, yes?' Paired with a sweet little smile, you took your leave towards the makeshift stage, blue robes trailing like a blaze behind you.

This did not feel like getting a handler anymore.

This was going to get much, much worse.

—

Despite his worse fears, no decommission request landed in Hunter's pile of folders or in his inbox. After the incident at the bar, Crosshair finally fell silent, which meant that Hunter was free to fall into blissful sleep in their barracks. They did not stay to see you perform, much to Wrecker's dismay, but he was sure Tech already sliced through the bars shoddy footage, only to satisfy his curiosity, if nothing else.

You took the closed quarters of the Marauder in stride, your face betraying nothing. Your heartbeat though...? Well, that told Hunter everything he needed.

It seemed that not only Clone Force 99 was anxious about this change.

'Anything I should steer clear off?' You're eyes were still darting around, as if you were taking it all in. Your question though, it warmed Hunter somehow. He knew viewed clones as people, but other nat-borns had other ideas, that were not nicely viewed in the GAR.

'Our lives?'

Even with his back turned around the momentarily least favourite brother, he could feel Crosshairs sneer.

Before even taking a breath to reprimand Crosshair again in less that 24 hours, Wreckers boisterous voice bounced against the ship's walls.

'HA, as if you could beat a Jedi, Cross.' Wrecker's huge form seemed to eclipse you for just a moment, before draping an arm around your shoulders. You seemed to dip a bit, before finding your footing and righting yourself again, without shrugging Wrecker off. This seemed to encourage Wrecker, as he quickly continued, a sharp grin forming on his face.

'Technically, don't touch anything of Crosshair's. Don't mess up my workspace.' Tech's eyes were glued to his data pad, but his finger was pointing to various parts of the ship.

Thank you, Tech and your perfect interruptions.

You're impassive face was slowly breaking apart, your cheeks twitching slightly. Even your heartbeat seemed to slow down, and you even seemed to lean more and more into Wrecker, as if you were leeching his body heat. You risked a glance towards Hunter, but quickly looked away when you noticed him analysing you.

He wondered if you were going to burst from trying to keep in your laugh.

'You can always take Lula!' Reaching towards his bunk, Wrecker dragged you along a bit, without realising that you were still somewhat trapped underneath his arm. He offered you the tooka doll, and Hunter really hoped this was not the moment Wrecker will get heartbroken from your response.

A genuine smile lighted up your face instead.

'Thank you.'

If it weren't for the proximity alarm going off in the cockpit, Hunter was sure of there was more to be said.

For now, they all had one job.

Complete the mission.

[squadrah]

La Squadra in detective fiction

Giving a variety of flavors for each, I've been absorbing Sherlock Holmes and Agatha Christie stuff like a sponge lately.

RISOTTO

As a detective: One of those grimy hard-boiled types who has to get his hands dirty in more ways than one to get his evidence, though when it comes to obtaining information, his intimidating stature and demeanor get results very quickly. When he makes his interest in the case known, only the most hardened culprits stand a chance of not keeling over from heartburn on the spot, leading to fast results.

As a mere suspect: Interrogating him is like trying to squeeze blood from a stone. He's not very observant or judgmental in general, so unless he had a grudge, it's difficult to get his opinion on anything or anyone, and his taciturn nature compels him to stay quiet if he thinks that what he knows can't possibly have any bearing on the case. He's mostly right there because he spends too much time in his own head.

As the culprit: Too obvious, say the sleuths, especially if the murder was violent, so he's often taken up and dismissed with the feeling that his being the solution sounds too easy. It would take spending time with him to realize that he has a very smooth touch and doesn't need his brutal strength to get the job done, though that depends on the victim. Would only do premeditated murder born out of a grudge.

---

FORMAGGIO

As a detective: He's one of those street-smart freelancers around town who can't resist a fun challenge when they have nothing else to do, especially if there is some tangible incentive (money or sex will get him every time). He knows a lot of ruffians about who may help him in the investigation as a favor, and gets a kick out of bullying the culprits while he figures out what authority to pawn them off on.

As a mere suspect: Unless he really liked the victim, he will not take the case seriously and may end up throwing unnecessary suspicion on himself by making tasteless jokes and sounding rather careless about it all. When his past comes under scrutiny, he will either come up perfectly harmless or having engaged in something petty that complicates the case, but had nothing to do with the actual murder.

As the culprit: He can live down a lot of things, so only monetary gain could truly induce him to take a life. He's quick and dexterous (think him tossing that tiny car into his victim's drink in the anime) and would probably add poison to the victim's drink, reasoning rightly that nobody would ever profile him as a poisoner without tangible evidence and the less he interacted with the victim, the better.

---

PROSCIUTTO

As a detective: He's the classic type who needs to be propositioned and well compensated throughout, and in return he always gets clean-cut results. He'll consider the clues and employ his powers of deduction for the most part, but at critical junctures, he will expose himself to danger in the knowledge that he's perfectly capable of wrecking his opponents until they are only too glad to be arrested.

As a mere suspect: Probably the most reliable witness on the premises because he'll stick to the point and doesn't care to embellish the details, so he can come across as rather crude. He's just uncanny enough to arouse some doubt initially, but the more other people are interviewed, the more his honesty shines through. He will resent being pestered beyond the first interview, though.

As the culprit: Let's face it, he would murder for any number of reasons, personal or otherwise, and he would keep it very simple with a shot to the head. Being so thorough and technical, he could probably make even a spur of the moment crime seem premeditated, and if he were to commit a premeditated crime, chances are he would never be found out because he knows when to leave it alone.

---

PESCI

As a detective: I could picture him as a low-rank police officer who goes to process the crime scene, spots something small or out of place that puzzles him but has been overlooked by others as seemingly irrelevant, and keeps dwelling on that one point until he gets the wind up the investigators and they check on his line, only to solve the case and take the credit because Pesci's too shy to step up.

As a mere suspect: One of the worst mumblers you've ever met, and the more he's questioned, the more flustered he gets until he starts misremembering details. You would have to calm him down and reassure him continuously to get the full story, but it's worth it because he's an excellent observer and tends to eschew speculation or personal opinion in favor of what he's absolutely certain of.

As the culprit: There are two ways he would commit murder - it would either have to be in the heat of the moment, half passion and half accident, or because he had been pushed beyond his limit and something finally snapped inside. He would either panic afterwards and make mistakes, or cover it up with a lot of cold common sense; whichever way it happened, he would only confess if broken down.

---

GHIACCIO

As a detective: Every episode would center around his compiling a conspiracy board and ranting to himself like he's Charlie raving to Mac about Pepe Silvia. As he rants and storms we would get brief flashbacks or enactments of whatever event or connection he's dwelling on until the board was complete and the mystery solved; last scene he's beating the shit out of the perp in a parking lot.

As a mere suspect: He's incredibly high-strung and way too loud, and he goes off on such violent tangents that it's hard to keep him to the point, and even then he's too opinionated to be of any real use. He teeters between focused and accurate (if he was invested in some particular detail at the time) and completely unreliable (mostly blinded by anger or overwhelmed just trying to manage himself).

As the culprit: No premeditation about this one; it would honestly stress him too much to plan out anything. If he killed, he would lash out and keep going until he spent his wrath, and then dispose of the body as quickly as possible. He's small and vocal enough that he would probably get overlooked as someone incapable of this much brutality, surely, but his temper would eventually give him away.

---

MELONE

As a detective: He's like if Jane Marple was a transmasc scene girl; he'll get involved in a murder and next thing you know he's getting his hair dyed at the local salon and getting every bit of gossip out of the suspects' weed smoking girlfriends, and then typing it all up at a café until he's satisfied in his mind about who did it and how. Will then drop some hints to whoever's in charge and go on his merry way.

As a mere suspect: He cannot stop going on tangents but in quite a different way from Ghiaccio: he usually has some interesting trivia or specialized knowledge to share, and gives the investigators plenty of food for thought. Loves to talk and can be consulted over and over, but he will get more and more abstract as time goes on and share his own theories based on blood type and horoscope, so be careful.

As the culprit: Being an invalid, he would often be treated as frail and incapable, but he has a very calculating mind and decent mobility, so if he decided to murder, he would probably stage a convincing accident to happen somewhere away from him. In a pinch he might resort to weaponizing his medication as poison, hoping that suspicion would fall on someone else with knowledge and access.

---

ILLUSO

As a detective: I could see him as an accidental detective/informant - he's nosy and loves to dig up dirt on people, but sometimes this leads to his uncovering something that should have been left well alone, and then he has no choice but to quickly pass all his material over to some competent authority before anyone might come after his snooping ass. Justice is honestly an afterthought for him.

As a mere suspect: He's always pegged as a shady character and rightfully so, but he is surprised and offended every single time it happens. He's somewhat defensive, especially when he gets nervous, but where he feels safe, he will unload a lot of sordid details about the victim and everyone else involved, and insinuates as much as he can. Will then make the investigators swear they didn't hear it from him.

As the culprit: He would prefer to premeditate, not only to indulge in the fantasy of retribution and his own cleverness, but also because it seems safer to have a plan of action. He might stage an accident on the spot and then give a sob story when interrogated, or go with a good old fashioned overdose of whatever, but if he were cornered, he would strike impulsively out of fear, not caring what method he used.

---

SORBET

As a detective: This one is a slow and quiet thinker. He will take a gander at the crime scene and address questions to those involved, but seems to involve himself as little as possible on the whole, and thus ends up surprising everyone when he finally divulges his plausible theories and more than plausible solutions, mostly based on first impression, psychology, and focusing on the money motive.

As a mere suspect: He's balefully apathetic and uncooperative, always asking if he could go now, and often insists of having seen and head nothing. Underneath it all, he's either neutral or contemptuous of those involved, or deeply attached to the culprit and boldly, if placidly, covering for them every step of the way. Has very little regard for human life and infinite regard for an inheritance.

As the culprit: One of the few who would have no qualms about choking their victim with their bare hands, and it's always about money one way or another. He would make a very thorough clean-up and face the interrogation in his usual manner, possibly laying the apathy on even thicker than usual. You could only get him with damning evidence, and even then he would never own to it.

---

GELATO

As a detective: He would be such a jolly fella, just a funny little guy grinning widely and asking the most uncanny questions, and tapping you on the arm as he made a joke about hanging you based on what you had just told him about your relationship to the victim. Will casually hound the suspect all friendly like, and then cook their goose at the public barbecue for the entire world to marvel at the roast.

As a mere suspect: His degree of familiarity with the authorities would be quite jarring, and he would keep asking questions instead of answering them, not even for the sake of evasion but because he's excited about the crime and wants to hear what the sleuths think. He will appear to know too much without actually knowing anything, and let's face it, he'd probably be the second person to die because of it.

As the culprit: He will do nothing by halves, and if he wants to commit murder, then by damn it will be a freak show with weird props and arson and plenty of red herrings scattered about to keep the investigators on their toes. He would never get away with it simply because everyone's testimonies would line up about what a lethal trickster he is, but he would go down as a sensation and love it.