#how is a man so handsome allowed to exist this is my question

[sofiemystique]

For @paramortality

Because I can't come give you a hug. And I can't show up and sit with you. Best I got is Emmrich loving on Laird. Only posting this because he told me too.

And completely aside, I sent this to Bone Dad and he sent me back the photos. That's how you know you're on the same wavelength as your friends!

Laird sat on the chaise, tears glistening in his eyes. Laughter floated through the door from the team down in the library, but he couldn't join them. Not like this. Not feeling like this. Why anyone thought he was capable and competent was beyond him. He would let them down, this would crumble, everything would be lost…

He took a deep breath, filling his chest with air, holding it for a count and then releasing it over a few seconds. Again, he repeated the exercise, a common one young apprentices were taught but somehow he seemed to be frequenting as of late. The feel of his chest disgusted him. His whole body and skin made him feel shame. The scars on his chest showcasing that even in his own body he didn't even belong.

And Emmrich…

Emmrich would realize the mistake he was making and leave him. It was inevitable. How would someone as intelligent, talented, and handsome ever truly be content with the mess of a watcher, let alone person he was. Laird's face dropped into his hands.

The door creaked as it was opened. "Darling?" came that voice that Laird loved. That calmed and soothed him, and yet it was the last voice in this moment he wanted to hear. Emmrich couldn't see him like this, be with him while he wallowed in this despair.

Attempting to cough and quickly wipe his eyes dry, he cracked his neck. It was of no use. Emmrich rounded the corner of the chaise, his eyes filled with concern and love. And no trace of pity.

"Hi…hi Emmrich," Laird attempted to choke out.

"Darling, what is troubling you? How can I assist?" Emmrich knelt in front of Laird, taking one of the ginger haired man's hands inside of his own. Laird merely felt tears sting at the edges of his eyes stronger than before. His bottom lip quivered staring into the hazel eyes of Emmrich, who was so patiently waiting, giving Laird the space he needed to formulate the words.

"How can you love me?" Laird gave a small cry. "I'm gross and horrible. I'm unworthy of such love you give. I'm a failure. I'm so broken…" he trailed off as Emmrich leaned forward and placed his lips on Laird's brow before setting back on his heels.

"Who has been telling you such lies, my love?" the question was soft, but there was a sharper undercurrent.

Laird couldn't formulate words as he stared into Emmrich's kind eyes. He could only shake his head as more tears escaped down his cheeks.

"You are not gross, nor are you horrible." Emmrich leaned up to place another kiss on Laird's forehead. "You are not broken, nor are you a failure. Not until you give up and quit fighting, and my love that isn't what is happening right now."

The words washed over Laird, like a soothing balm on a sore wound. It was hard to accept, hard to receive, even with Emmrich's lips on his forehead and his arms moving up to pull him into an embrace. "You are not unworthy of the love I freely and completely give to you. You are utterly worthy. Laird, my dearest heart, you are the most magnificent thing to ever happen to me."

Cheek pressed close to Emmrich's heart, Laird allowed himself to softly sob. Emmrich's hand rubbed along his back in a gentle motion. "No one else could take your place. Not as the leader of this team nor as the holder of my heart. Thedas is vastly improved and far more beautiful because you dare to exist in it."

A soft kiss was placed onto the top of Laird's head. "Cast those thoughts from your mind. And should they plague you, further, please my love, I beg you, come find me. Let me drown them out. Allow me to kiss them away. Give me the honor of worshiping your body, your mind, and your spirit. I would kiss every inch of your skin and then will kiss it again. I will hide myself within my favorite place - you. I will hold you until the stress and the turmoil fades and only this light remains."

Laird lifted his head, tear stained cheeks and bleary eyes finding Emmrich's own. "Do you.. promise I am not a bother?"

Emmrich rested his own forehead against Laird's. "My love, you are a gift, a treasure. You are more precious to me than anything. Perish the thought now." And gently Emmrich touched his lips to Laird in a slow, drawn out kiss before pulling back. "I will love you from now until breath leaves my lungs. And even after, I will burn only for you."

And once again their lips joined, Laird laying back allowing Emmrich to crawl up on top of him, and hold hold their bodies tightly together in a warm embrace.

[crownleys]

Slowly making my way through DA:V! Davrin has totally stolen my heart!

[inu-mxki]

treasure / luffy x fem!reader

“pretty.”

luffy’s rough, callous finger tips traced over your cheek bone and down across your jaw. his big, grey eyes flicking across your features as if he was memorising each freckle, scar and crevice. a soft but entranced expression on his handsome face, as he ran the pad of his thumb over your bottom lip.

“so pretty.”

the captain was a forward man. he left little to the imagination when it came to what he was thinking. and he may not have recognised his emotions towards you as romantic feelings right away, but he sure knew that you were special, and in a way that was different to the others. so when you returned from the two year break, more mature and stronger than before, seeing you again ignited something in him that felt like a fire at the very pit of his stomach, and luffy realised something:

he’d missed you. really, really missed you. like a limb.

and he simply had to make sure you knew that.

“my pretty, though. right?” he mumbled, his loving eyes seeking reassurance. luffy was never someone who particularly needed it, but love was new and different for him. he’d paid it no mind before, and he was still navigating how it worked and felt now these feelings had a name. so he did ask for reassurance, but only from you.

“of course,” you whisper to him, a genuine smile curling at his soft, pink lips, “always, luff.”

“good.” he sighs, his fingertips now travelling down your neck to you bare shoulder, leaning in to press a kiss at the corner of your mouth. “want to look at you forever. so beautiful.”

you relax against him, his warm skin against yours, keeping your body from the cold of the sea air at night. the room was lit by the dimming lights of candles, the rest of the ship sound asleep by now, feeling like it was just the two of you.

“luff,” you whisper, and his eyes meet yours again, his large hand now at the small of your back, holding you as close as possible, legs intertwined. he hums, the same, lovesick look in his eyes as he watches you say his name. “i love you. you know that?”

he chuckles deeply, breathlessly, and you feel the vibration in his broad chest. you look away from his intense gaze for a moment, and begin tracing the scar on his chest with your finger. the muscles beneath his skin are solid, the scar rough and deep as you lightly trace along it. then two fingers, with a feather like touch, press against the bottom of your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his once more. luffy almost looks drunk, completely obsessed with your existence. and he truly was; until you, he didn’t think this kind of thing was important.

but he’d be damned if he lost it now. just having you there, wrapped in his arms, the boat drifting calmly along whilst his loyal crew slept safe and sound, was a feeling he wouldn’t trade for anything.

“look at me, pretty.” he whispered, his voice much lower and gruff with tiredness. luffy was so undeniably handsome, and you honestly became so lost in him that it scared you sometimes. he ghosts his lips over yours, only touching the slightest bit, teasing, until you feel him smile. “stupid question. course i know that.” then his hand snakes around your jaw to hold you gently, fingers threading in the hair at the nape of your neck, and he finally presses his lips to yours. with a sigh you melt into him, and allow him to take the lead, as he kisses you with such intensity and yet it’s soft, warm and loving.

“love you more.” he then mutters against your lips, just hovering there, enjoying the way your breathing quickens as you patiently wait for more. then he grins again, before whispering, so deep and gritty you feel it right at your core. “let me show you what a precious treasure you are to me, yeah?”

[astonmartinii]

match my freak | yuki tsunoda social media au

pairing: yuki tsunoda x fem rugby player reader

there's only one person who can match the yuki tsunoda radio freak...

MAIN MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

.・゜゜・ part of the aston martini summer olympics ・゜゜・．

yukitsunoda0511

liked by pierregasly, danielricciardo and 384,098 others

tagged: yourusername

yukitsunoda0511: spa was fine i guess, time to spend my summer break in france (ew) supporting the love of my life (yay)

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user1: 'fine i guess' as if we didn't get YOINTS

user2: tbf if my gf looked like that, points also wouldn't matter to me

pierregasly: FRANCE (EW)??? DID OUR HOMOEROTIC TENSION MEAN NOTHING???

yukitsunoda0511: oh so when i diss france we had homoerotic tension but when i said we were boyfriends i went too far 🤨

pierregasly: diss me all you want but not the homeland?

yukitsunoda0511: fine, i will from 5pm tomorrow

pierregasly: ???

yukitsunoda0511: because y/n will be there and therefore it will be the ONLY country in existence

pierregasly: i give up

user3: i need a man this down bad for me asap

user4: maybe it's time to lower my height requirements :(

yourusername: it's not how tall you are but how you are tall

user5: idk what the fuck that means

yourusername: IT MEANS SHORT KINGS PUT IN A LOT OF EFFORT WHY DO I HAVE TO SPELL OUT EVERYTHING? WHERE IS THE MEDIA LITERACY? THE READ COMPREHENSION?

user6: okay i think i now know ^^ why y/n and yuki are so good together

user7: i need someone to edit together their most iconic on field and radio moments together please for my mental health

yourusername: that's a crazy coincidence because the love of MY life will also be in paris 🤨

yukitsunoda0511: well i bet i love my love of my life more than you love your love of your life

yourusername: NUH UH

yukitsunoda0511: yep :PPPPPPP

yourusername: u wanna fight?

yukitsunoda0511: yes actually!

yourusername: well soz babe i can't get all hot and bothered before competing 🤷‍♀️

yukitsunoda0511: BORING

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, pierregasly and 318,905 others

tagged: yukitsunoda

yourusername: seeing yuki again: 10/10 ... realising he's not allowed in the olympic village and there's only cardboard beds anyway -100,000/10

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user12: so i suddenly understand why they give out so many condoms at the olympics

user13: why do they all go so feral?

yourusername: have you seen my man?

yourusername: AND THAT'S A RHETORICAL QUESTION TO SHOW OFF MY HANDSOME LITTLE MAN NOT AN INVITATION FOR YOU BITCHES TO THIRST

user14: noted 😔

pierregasly: i'm the one with a bad digital footprint but you're out here being just as horny as me on main

yourusername: i am allowed to ?

pierregasly: and i'm not allowed to?

yourusername: no

pierregasly: so fuck me i guess?

yourusername: let me be a woman in a male dominated field (being gross online)

yukitsunoda0511: yeah pierre stop trying to minimise womens' voices

pierregasly: how am i the bad guy again?

yourusername: man ❤️

pierregasly: yuki is a man?

yourusername: he's MY man which means he's been closely vetted and is basically one of the girls now

user14: i know visa cashapp rb or whatever the fuck they're called hate to see them coming

user15: it's the fact she's taller than most of the mechanics and she is always watching over them

yukitsunoda0511: i missed you so much but i can't wait to watch you beat the shit out of the competition

yourusername: for you, anything

yukitsunoda0511: a gold? so at least one of us can be world champion 🥺

yourusername: i'll win gold for you and then schedule in a friendly visit to see helmut

yukitsunoda0511: i think your mere presence could give him a heart attack

yourusername: oh well

user16: so real of her

olympics

liked by yukitsunoda0511, landonorris and 1,209,678 others

tagged: newzealandrubgy

olympics: the women's rugby final saw gold go home to new zealand!

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user17: okay yuki i am SEEING THE VISION

user18: i watched this game to see her and i am a changed woman

user19: i am no better than a man

danielricciardo: my personal favourite moment was when y/n clotheslined that poor girl, laughed in her face and said if she tried to get past her again she'd make trinket dishes out of her knee caps

yourusername: why thank you, i think my wit is my least appreciated part of my game

danielricciardo: i think we should honestly get you in the commentary box

yourusername: i'd make mince meat of crofty, he'd never say anything about yuki's radios again

danielricciardo: can you tell them to stop telling me to retire while you're at it?

yourusername: sure, i'm feeling generous

danielricciardo: a gold medal will do that to you

user20: so they weren't joking when they said that her and yuki are just the same person in different fonts ?

user21: my commentary team apologised about 20 times for her swearing on the broadcast but then they kept bursting out laughing whenever she said anything

yukitsunoda0511: HOLY FUCKING SHIT

yukitsunoda0511: GOAT GOAT GOAT MY GIRLFRIEND IS THE GOAT

yukitsunoda0511: i'm so proud, i love you y/n 🫶🏻🥹❤️‍🩹

yourusername: i love you too boo

yukitsunoda0511: can they let me in the room now? i'm getting withdrawal symptoms :(

yourusername: of course, i can't celebrate properly without you

yukitsunoda0511: 😄😄😄😄😄😄😄😄😄😄😄😄😄😄😄😄😄😄

user22: picturing yuki waiting outside the team room is so cute

user23: the nz team instagram posted a pic of it on their story he had flowers and balloons (∩˃o˂∩)♡

yukitsunoda0511

liked by pierregasly, maxverstappen1 and 893,401 others

tagged: yourusername

yukitsunoda0511: she matches my freak :)

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user25: oh believe me we know

user26: i'm like a confusing mix of scared AND turned on

yukitsunoda0511: you keep that to yourself

user27: okay sir 🤨

yukitsunoda0511: you can look but you can't touch :P

yukitsunoda0511: actually don't even look

yukitsunoda0511: don't even think about her ( ｡ •̀ ᴖ •́ ｡)

user28: this man is insane, i love him

yourusername: you LIKE HIM YOU APPRECIATE HIM FROM AFAR YOU MAYBE HAVE A PARASOCIAL RELATIONSHIP YOU DON'T LOVE HIM THAT'S FOR ME AND ME ONLY

user29: oh they weren't joking about matching each other's freaks

yourusername: there's no one else i'd like to be a lil gremlin with :3

yukitsunoda0511: gremlins forever with you <3

yourusername: sounds like paradise to me !!

yukitsunoda0511: i'm on it ✍🏻

user30: is he going to propose ???

user31: hopefully (ㅅ •᷄ ₃•᷅ )

pierregasly: yeah i guess you guys are kinda cute

yukitsunoda0511: kINDA?

yourusername: i know this man ain't speaking on us

yourusername: kika is the face economy in that relationship

yourusername: her back must hurt from carrying the style in this couple

francisca.cgomez: well 🥹

pierregasly: WHAT ? HOW ?

yukitsunoda0511: don't call my girlfriend kinda cute then 🤨

user32: good lord

fin.

note: she's back !!!!!

[hattersrabbit]

FAMILIARITY

absolute trinity x reader | sfw

CW! gn! reader, slight angst, character x reader romantically involved, multiverse shenanigans, drabbles, spoilers for absolute comics

Summary! Absolute Trinity meeting their s/o from the mainstream universe

BATMAN

"Bruce..."

His name was soft off your lips. The heat was hot on her skin as you looked up at the tank of a mine in front of you. The Batman from your home was less big, actually a lot.

"You know me...?" His voice felt hostile. Albeit it wasn't your Bruce it was him. He was big and still handsome. "You’re different from where I know you." You smiled at him.

He was still confused it seemed.

"You can take off your mask, Bruce." You asked hesitantly.

"How can I trust you?" His lips morphed into a scowl.

You faltered but you raised your head, “I’m not sure what’ll make you trust me, but I do know your parents would be very proud of you. I know that, and my version of you knows that. Even if he doubts it.”

Bruce stared at you blankly. His giant hand raised to bull down his cowl to reveal a very young man with still some wonder in those eyes. Short black hair and baggy eyes.

You stepped forward and cradling his face between you hands. Bruce didn’t know why but he allowed you himself to lean down for you.

“You’ve been working hard.” You smiled quite sadly, “Things never change do they.” You said it like it was a fact instead of question.

He titled his head with narrowing eyes. “The other you is rich, but also just as sad. He works so hard and is always blaming himself. Doing everything to make sure Gotham thrives. Things never change.”

He nodded. His blue eyes blanking as they stared at you. Only seeing love in those eyes of yours. No matter what he’s done, or perhaps violent, whether it was him or the other him you’d love him.

“He treats you good?”

“Always. He cares too much, so much it’ll kill him if he’d ever to lose me or anyone else he cares about.” You reassured.

Bruce found himself thinking that when he met his world’s you he’d protect you too. If this was you and your original then he’d protect you too.

Yeah, he couldn’t lose anyone else otherwise he’d lose it too.

WONDER WOMAN

“Woah you’re so tall and pretty!” You giggled when looking up at the woman with flowing dark hair, blue eyes, and red tattoos.

Diana, but not your Diana. Someone who belonged to the darkness, but good. She was intimidating but she was warm like the sun. Just like your Diana.

“Why thank you.” It was her, definitely. “You’re not from here. You came through with magic. May I ask how that happened?” She mused with a tiny laugh as you got a look at her prosthetic arm.

“A man named Savage made a device that sent people to different universes. It broke in the fight and I got sucked in.”

You played with the parts of your hero costume as you stared up at her tall stature. “My Diana, she tried to save me but couldn’t reach me.” You thought of your Wonder Women.

Just as beautiful and dressed in blue,yellow, red, and white. Flowing black hair and her blue eyes. She looked like a goddess and looked like light.

“My Diana? Another version of me, good [ ]?”

“Yes, my Diana is a lot less dressed in darkness and born in Paradise Island, a land full of women called Amazons.” You noted how she froze when she heard you speak.

You wavered over her expression. “You aren’t from Themyscira. From Hell maybe?”

“How did you figure it?” Diana’s brows were up to her forehead as you giggled. “You’re whole getup kinda screams hell. But you’re still my Diana. I can see that.”

Diana hadn’t met you in her reality. She hoped you existed here, and was just as kind as you.

A smile that made you shine like the sun. A sun that Diana only experienced when she arrived her on Earth.

“I see. Well I’m glad your perception isn't me being evil.” She summed up. Her arms bulking as she crossed her arms. Your eyes glittered in excitement as she did so.

“Of course, because no matter how my Diana looks I’ll always love her.” The heat from your cheeks were loud. Diana couldn’t deny the flush of her cheeks.

Truly you were the birth of the Gods. A treasure she would protect; in every universe and any version of you.

SUPERMAN

Clark, or Kal-El floating in the air with blue eyes that were haunting. He didn’t give off that golden retriever aura like you were so used to.

He wasn’t all that huge, and this Superman was lean yet fit. Those eyes weren’t all that calming but haunting. Bright gold was shining off of his suit. Long hair and fair amount of stubble on his chin and jaw.

He was distant.

So unlike your Kal-El. In fact there was no Clark Kent. Simply the his Kyrptonian identity.

If was it was there then it was nonexistent.

Suddenly you felt a red cape surround you. Kal-El coming down and wrapping it around you. Your clothes were ripped. How you got here, but all you knew is that a machine by Gorilla Grodd broke and here you were.

That last memory being Clark being too late in saving you. Tears flowing from his eyes as you escaped into a blue light, and here you were.

“Kal-El…”. You shakily spoke.

“You know me?” He spoke. His voice still as he stared at you blankly. His mind twisting in gears. “Yes, but not mine. I can see that. I’m not from here.” You looked around to see the torn down buildings.

“You’re so much different from my Kal-El. My Superman is much more smiley, but I can see there’s goodness in you.” You looked hopeful into your eyes.

“This world is ugly. Some of these humans are ugly.”

His words made you still. Kal-El looked at you when he felt you falter. Shock in your eyes. That expression fatally fell to a sad smile.

“This world has been cruel to you.” Your hand drifted to his face. He didn’t know why but he allowed himself to melt into your touch. “But you still want to help. Humans are horrible but still fighting will make a difference.”

His expression seemed somewhere else. Like he was hearing someone else’s voice. Blue eyes flickering everywhere for anyone around you two. They came back to you and looking your eyes, locking eyeballs.

A hopeful look in them, “In your world, is it good?”

“Yes, and evil. But we do our best because even the tiniest effort can make the difference, Kal-El.” You gave him a smile. Cupping his face to which he melted.

A loud explosion was heard from elsewhere. Immediately you found yourself in his chest. His suit feeling different, and not made out of cloth like your Superman.

Kal-El made up his mind. Until you could return back to your universe he would protect you. Your world needed your goodness, and so did his other version.

After all it was true. Even if his suit said otherwise. Because maybe a world can be saved from themselves.

Just one step at a time.

[strawberrymochin]

Clan head! Gojo | warnings ⚠️ degradation, kidnapping and misogyny |

Imagine you're a kin to the zenin clan, born with no cursed energy, perceived as no important asset by your family, suddenly being kidnapped by the gojo clan members for you to replace the dead bride of the clan head gojo satoru— why you ask? Your brother naoya seemed to have killed the bride of the clan head.

That's what you heard when the soldiers who kidnapped you chatted idly drunk. You laid back in the dusty carriage, eavesdropping at their drunk conversation with your hands tied tightly behind your back. A stripe of cloth blocked your vision and your feets felt numb too.

You don't remember much of how you came to be here, nor you think you tried to resist their attack, it was just a bunch loud noises and blur of visions. Even though you attempted running away somehow you knew it'd be very well futile.

You do nothing but sigh.

The next you see the blinding brightness is when someone cuts the stripe of cloth off your skin. You feel the cold blade graze near your eyes, if the blade is turned in opposite direction it might as well blind you forever.

You open your eyes adjusting your vision, you head hung low. The floor was made of wood and someone was kneeling infront of you.

A man slides his finger under your chin forcing you to look up. His eyes were the azure of the blue. Rays of sunlight sparkled and danced in them as if it were reflecting on a thousand shards of crystals. His skin was pale and face extremely handsome. The dressing you recognise— you'd seen it when your parents used to display you as an ornament. This specific haori was worn by the clan head of gojo's.

The last you saw this haori was when you were 10, worn by a shaggy old person. It seems that the gojo's have appointed a new clan leader and you are supposedly in trouble.

He held your face with his one hand(not gentle), moving your face from one side to others, as if speculating it before jerking your face and turning back where his other attendees stand.

"this will do." He said in his velvet voice, however the tone didn't really suit him, as if he didn't meant what he said and rather was forced to say that.

The next thing you know is the maids scurrying your away to a chamber where your skin is cleaned squeaky and scented all over, your hair is brushed and adorned with some dangling jewels and your robes dirty from the dusty carriage changed to a pair of white and red robes of silk.

The maids give you a look of anticipation yet none dares to spare a word to you. Even they are confused why you aren't protesting or questioning any. Oh how could you? You weren't even allowed to speak in your own home. Your voice was considered unnecessary so you kept quiet, never uttering a word unless spoken to.

"you will be my bride. Bow your head to my words and be the subject of my desires." He announced, "and you will obey it even if my desire is your death."

Loud roars of his subjects came waving in the air, "that's what you get to have the audacity to mess with the gojo's." The public's roars died down when you kneel infront of him. Your hands touching the floor and you bow till your head touch the floor, "yes. I will be your bride,the slave of your will, the subject of your desires, even if your desire is of my death."

Gojo's eyes widened at your words but quickly masks his surprise. He, too kneels down and orders you to rise your head.

The cup of sake sat in between you two.

Soon you will be the bride of gojo satoru.

And yet you will still remain non existent to your parents.

A/n- okay sorry I'm not done with the professor series and my uni vacations were over a week ago and I've a lots of stuff to do. I just can't find time to write. So sorry but just have this non sensical blurb....

[sonotpattismith]

savior complex

pairing: satoru gojo x reader word count: 9.6k content: manga spoilers, fluff in the beginning, angst, if gojo had survived, depression, feelings of worthlessness, hurt w/ comfort, smut, 18+ inspired by: would you fall in love with me again from epic the musical (my SHAYLAAA)

Gojo wasn’t sure that he’d had to try so hard at anything in his life— not as hard as he tried for you. 

It took weeks after that first day that you’d transferred into Jujutsu High during his third year to even get you to look at him. And sure, he knew that his flirting was rusty given the fact that he’d… never done it, but he also knew he was a handsome guy, paired with his untouchable strength as a sorcerer (pun intended), and of course his sizable wealth didn’t hurt either— he figured he was a catch. 

Then you came along, with your fierce personality and your killer smile and your tendency to completely walk past him each time he tried to get your attention. It was embarrassing— the amount of times he had been left in your dust, a cocky grin slowly falling from his face as he dropped whichever technique it was that he was trying to impress you with that day, his friends barely holding back their laughter at the peacock type display Gojo seemed so confident in. 

He was clueless as to what he was doing wrong. Did he stink? You didn’t seem as… uninclined to interact when it was Suguru asking you how you were adjusting to a new school. Trying as hard as he could not to look as similar to a perturbed toddler as he certainly felt, he even tried inserting himself into your conversations sometimes. It often ended horribly awkward for him, your sentence usually trailing off and your eyes giving him a tentative once over before you would continue your story— definitely not as enthused as you had been prior to his interruption though. 

“Do I smell?” Satoru asked with an expression of stone cold seriousness one afternoon to an exasperated Suguru, who had already had a long day as it was without his best friend’s nonsense adding onto it. The black-haired man swiveled his head around to gaze tiredly at him, allowing his face to speak for him. “No, I’m serious. Sniff me, tell me— please.” 

“Get off of me.” Suguru grunted as he shoved at the boy who was currently damn near straddling his waist while shoving his exposed armpit into his friend’s face. “Why am I nose deep in your pits right now, Satoru?”

“Because I don’t know what else is wrong with me.” 

“I could think of a few—”

“It’s like I don’t even exist!” Gojo pointedly interrupted that jab before tossing himself back on Geto’s bed. “I’ve done everything. I’ve taken over missions for her, I bought her that weird ass keychain she was looking at when we all went to Kyoto— I even tried doing that thing where I blocked the rain with my infinity. She pulled out an umbrella, Suguru. If I wasn’t so embarrassed I would’ve laughed my ass off.”

“Satoru—”

“I’m talking perfect comedic timing. I thought she couldn’t get hotter and now she’s funny—”

“Have you tried getting your head out of your ass?” Suguru finally raised his voice to cut through his incessant rambling.

 The six eyes blinked at him a few times from behind his rounded glasses, an expression of petulance slowly overtaking his features. Crossing his arms over his chest, he looked defiantly in the other direction.

“You didn’t have to yell—”

But he was once again cut off, this time not by his aggravated friend, but the heavy thud and clatter from the next room over. Both boys’ heads snapped to look at one another with wide eyes. It was silent for a moment. 

“Isn’t that…” Gojo’s question trailed off when the boy beside him nodded affirmatively with an equally concerned expression— your dorm. 

In an instant, both boys were flying out of their lazed spots on the bed, fighting to squeeze through the door at the same time. It was Satoru who first pounded his fist on your door.

“Are you okay?” He shouted as Suguru finally stumbled behind him. After a moment of silence, he tried sliding the door open, but, as expected, it was locked. Pounding his fist three more times against it, he began yelling. “Hey! I’m coming in!”

He probably could have used his technique for a less… destructive route, however your lack of response was making his mind muddle with horrendous possibilities. Leaning back, one swift kick had the offending door crashing in, and both boys were quickly hopping through. You were laying in a heap on the rugged floor by your desk, a handful of your supplies strewn around you.

“Get Shoko.” Satoru commanded blindly, sliding to his knees before you to check if you were still breathing. Just as his fingers brushed against your neck though, and Suguru was halfway out the door, you stirred from your sudden coma-like state. 

Your brows furrowed, and your eyes were bleary when they opened as you slowly moved to sit up. At once, the boy in front of you was pushing you back down by the shoulders. 

“Don’t move until Shoko comes to see you.” 

“Shoko? No, no, I’m fine.” You sluggishly brushed off his hands before carefully standing up. A sigh of irritation left you as he shot his arms out to steady you should you fall. Sure, you knew he was only trying to help, but he wasn’t exactly your favorite person, and you were slightly (severely) embarrassed that he’d found you in such a state. 

“Fine?” He laughed dryly with a shake of his head. “Sweetheart, you and I have two very different definitions of fine.”

Biting back a scowl at the pet name, you bent down to begin picking up the things you’d dropped on your way to the ground. Scoffing in disbelief, he placed his hands on your shoulders to push you down to sit at your desk chair. 

“Will you sit down? You just passed out—”

“I said I’m fine. You’re not my father, and you’re not my boyfriend. So you can cut the savior crap with me.” You snapped, and the regret was almost instant the second the last syllable fell from your lips. 

It was hard not to get irritated with him though. Satoru and his perfect life and untouchable powers and abundance of wealth that he seemed so sure everyone would drop to their knees for. After having fought tooth and nail to prove to your family that exploring your cursed technique would be worthwhile, it felt like a slap in the face for him to be constantly boasting about how easily everything came to him. 

“Yeah? Thank god for that. I’ll make sure to call your father or your boyfriend next time you decide to collapse instead of showing any sort of concern myself like a decent fucking person.”

You weren’t sure you had ever seen him actually riled up, always with a bright (albeit obnoxious) smile on his face as he tried so desperately to get everyone else as giddy as he constantly seemed to be. A pang of guilt struck you for having been the reason Gojo finally frowned. Mentally cursing yourself, you tucked your legs against your chest, chin resting on your knees as you chewed pensively on your bottom lip. He didn’t storm out as you were sure he would have, but his back was turned to you now as he stared at the door awaiting Shoko’s arrival.

“I just… I forget to eat sometimes when I’ve got alot going on.” You explained quietly, eyes cast down to your desk. From your peripheral, you saw him turn around to face you once again. “And I won’t remember until I pass out.” 

It was silent for an uncomfortable minute before a strangled laugh threatened to escape the boy’s mouth. Your head shot up to glare at him in question, exasperated at his hot and cold behavior. Upon noting your irritation, he covered his mouth with his hands as if it would stop you from hearing the cackles that shook his frame. 

“You know what— fuck you, Gojo.” 

“No! No, I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you— I swear!” Though he was barely able to get his frantic explanation out due to his continuous giggles. He desperately tried to get himself together as you turned away from him with burning cheeks. “I-I’m laughing because… Suguru is pulling Shoko out of class as we speak to check on you, and I broke your door down, and you… just needed a burger.”

Satoru cursed himself to sleep that night as the scene replayed in his mind of you finally having opened up to him, and he pathetically wasted the opportunity by… laughing at you. Slamming his head repeatedly against his pillow, he thought perhaps you were just out of his league at this point, as he couldn’t for the life of him seem to get anything right with you. 

He tried desperately to catch you alone the next week or so, but it seemed something else always had your attention. Whether it be your being sent on a mission, or spending time with Shoko (who knew Satoru had been begging to have a minute alone with you), or holed up in your room, headphones pressed snuggly over your ears as you hunched over your desk. 

After the collapsing fiasco, you had been leaving your door slightly ajar for fear that it may be broken down again should you have another episode. The white-haired man couldn’t count how many times he’d strolled by the door under the guise of seeing Suguru who was just one room over. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could play that one off, because his friend was beginning to grow impatient with the way he’d slide into his room multiple times a day with nothing to say, standing there for a few minutes with his hands in his pockets so it seemed like he’d actually had some business there. 

“Will you please just talk to her? You’re driving me insane.” Geto groaned out, just having been woken up from a nap by one of Satoru’s unexpected drop ins. “This is getting pathetic, Satoru.”

“I would if she didn’t look so busy all the damn time.” He grumbled, his forehead knocking against the door in aggravation. 

His own words played back in his head, and they had him quickly straightening his posture, an unreadable expression on his face. Had Suguru been more conscious at the moment, perhaps he would have questioned his sudden mood shift. The black-haired boy was already slipping back into his leaden slumber though, allowing Gojo to quickly slip back out of the room without a second glance.

It was an embarrassing amount of time later when he returned to that hallway, though he wouldn’t know the difference because he’d never had to make an utter mess of the kitchen just to make himself— or anyone for that matter— lunch. Still, oblivious to just how unnecessarily chaotic he had been in the process, Satoru was standing beside your desk expectantly until you caught his imposing form in your peripheral. Pulling down your headphones, you looked up at him with confusion etched all over your tired face. 

“Eat something.” Was the only explanation he gave, shoving a plate of… interestingly shaped onigiri toward you. You blinked down at the messy plate, your eyes trailing up to the hand attached to it that still had remnants of rice sticking to their fingers. Satoru pursed his lips at your silence, undoubtedly taking it as the same refusal you’d been giving his time and attention for months. “You’ve been in here all day studying. Eat something before you pass out again.”

But your silence wasn’t born out of the usual annoyance the white-haired man typically sparked in you. Instead, it was a stunned type of speechlessness, too touched and taken aback by what you thought was uncharacteristic thoughtfulness from the boy you were sure only thought about himself. 

Gulping down the gentle lump in your throat, you slowly accepted the plate from him, eyes fixed on the lumps of rice staring back at you. From your peripheral, you watched him nod before resignatingly turning around to leave and let you eat in peace. 

“Gojo?” He swiveled around frantically at the hesitant call of his name. There was a shy smile on your face as you looked up from the plate at him, tugging the headphones from your neck. “Aren’t you gonna stay?”  

It was clear in the way he shifted his weight antsily between his feet and stopped the widening of his already unnaturally large eyes that he was trying with everything in him not to look too excited. Pretending to check the time on a watch that wasn’t present on his wrist, he nodded with feigned nonchalance. 

“Uh… yeah, I can sit with you for a minute.”

“Just a minute?” You quipped with a raised brow.

“Or longer— no rush, y’know?” He quickly corrected as he yanked desperately at the bean bag in the corner of your room to sit beside you. The plush cushion was dragged so close to your desk chair that you wouldn’t be able to roll it away from him if you tried. 

You smiled knowingly at him, holding out the plate for him to take one of the rice balls.

“Those are for you.” Satoru shook his head, pushing the plate back toward you. 

“What would I do without you?” You teased, though there was a poorly concealed sincerity behind your fond eyes that had his heart beating out of his chest. With an amused smile, you shook your head at him. “Gojo, look, I appreciate the sentiment, but you made these the size of baseballs. Take one.”

A furious blush overtook his features at your words. It was admittedly quite refreshing to see the typically haughty sorcerer actually embarrassed, and it made him seem more human to you despite the lightyears of differences that seemed to separate you two. Sinking into his seat, his knees were nearly touching his chest thanks to the combination of the low seat and his freakishly long legs. 

“I’ve never really made anything before.” He confessed through a sheepish murmur as he finally picked up one of his messy creations. “Guess cooking isn’t one of my countless innate talents.”

“Are you telling me the strongest sorcerer has a flaw?” You gasped dramatically, revelling in the way he narrowed his striking eyes at you from behind his glasses in feigned offense. They had slipped down his nose, revealing those long, white lashes that would have any woman green with envy. 

“Can’t have it all, can I?” That infuriatingly charming smirk of his attempted to catch you off guard, but you fought past the urge to melt for him just as everyone else did so willingly. It was taking all of his own willpower to not squirm in anticipation under your gaze, what with the way you seemed to study him so closely. 

“Well, that would imply you’ve got everything else.” 

“Don’t I?”

“How about some shame? Humility? Social aware—”

“Would you please just eat?”

Though Satoru’s damn near shameful attempt at onigiri wasn’t exactly gonna win him any culinary awards anytime soon, it certainly won him something even better— your long-awaited attention. That next day in class, he had all but walked past you and Shoko, who were huddled beside each other discussing the reversed curse technique that you had been desperately trying to learn more about. 

He figured, as you always had in the past, that you didn’t want him budding into your conversations. You caught his towering figure in your peripheral, that stark, white hair traceable in even the largest of crowds. It made your words trail mid-sentence, and you smiled apologetically at your friend before shifting around to call out to him. The typically cool-demeanored boy nearly tripped over his own feet when you asked him to join you two to give his opinion on the matter. 

Shoko’s eyes rolled, a poorly concealed smirk of amusement poking up around her lit cigarette as he raced over, pushing his friend not-so-subtly aside with his shoulder in order to take the spot next to you. 

It seemed as though he knew that each time you graced him with your attention, he had to make sure he made it worth your while, and he began spouting off on a shockingly eloquent rant about the subject at hand. You hadn’t been aware that he was actually… quite intelligent under all that bravado and foolishness. In fact, you were quickly learning, as you watched him turn red in the face from the speed at which he was info-dumping, that Satoru was kind of a giant nerd.

This newfound side of him that you’d been a fool not to allow him the chance to show to you, made you actually start to understand why everyone seemed to be so fond of him. Aside from his boyish charm and knockout face, he was an avid intellectual— a trait he always seemed to be bursting at the seams to share with anyone who would listen to him. 

The two of you traded books and tips, and he tried to reel back his innate cockiness each time he was able to teach you something you didn’t know, though you were quickly beginning to understand that haughtiness was simply part of the Satoru Gojo package. Alongside his surprising thoughtfulness and undeniable ability to make you crack a smile even in your lowest of moods, you decided that you could let his occasional arrogance slide. 

Despite all your best attempts to maintain your nonchalance at the man who wore the title of the strongest like the boldest of tattoos across his forehead, no levels of his infuriating infinity could even keep you away from falling right into Satoru’s orbit. Even the heavens above knew that nothing would keep him from pulling you right in either. 

That was why even all these years later, no one in this world could have convinced you that the same boy who fought tooth and nail for your affection as a mere teenager would have abandoned you so carelessly now. 

“Would you please just eat?” 

Those painstakingly familiar words were now falling from the lips of Megumi Fushiguro, who, alongside his fellow students, seemed to be the only evidence of the white-haired man you had had contact with in the days following your fiance’s battle with the King of Curses. The ring on your left hand only served to mock you the longer this charade went on. 

You looked up from the glimmering stone to glare haphazardly up at the raven-haired boy before you. He was clutching a tray of somen noodles within his scarred hands, his face firm with exasperation despite the disheartened glint in his dark eyes. Ignoring the furious growls in your stomach at the sight of the dish, you glanced to the side. 

“It’s been three days, Megumi.” You stated monotonously, but the tears that brimmed in your waterline betrayed you. “If he died, then just tell me. I can handle—”

“He doesn’t want to see you. He left.” The boy repeated for what must have been the tenth time since breaking the news to you. 

Itadori and Kugisaki trailed just outside the entrance of the common area where you had taken up residence in protest of Gojo’s sudden disappearance. Fushiguro had always been closer to you than the others had, what with your having been there when his benefactor took him in. The other two student’s weren’t sure they could handle that broken look in your eyes as well as their aloof counterpart could. 

“He wouldn’t have left like this.” You insisted through gritted teeth, swiping furiously at the traitorous tears that raced down your sunken cheeks. “Tell him if he wants to leave me that he can come say it to my face. Until then, take your food and go come up with a better excuse.” 

The shadow-user sighed desolately at your continued refusal. He only wished he could tell you that he wanted nothing more than for his mentor to man up and come face you himself. It was killing him to see you waste away like this with the hopes that it would draw Gojo out from wherever it was he was hiding. You had refused to leave that stiff couch, refused to eat, refused to accept the lies your fiance had told them to give you to explain his absence. 

While it infuriated him to no end, Megumi could also, for once, understand the white-haired man’s ever-confusing decisions. Despite that part of him that felt he would have likely done the same thing, the boy knew deep down that you would be able to handle this situation far better than what Gojo was giving you credit for.

Setting the tray down on the table in front of you, Megumi nodded to his friends to leave you be once again. It was now his turn to report back to the man of the hour, hoping that something would get through to him if he heard how long it had been since you’d moved an inch. 

Your form of protest was skillfully thought out, because you were right— it was killing Satoru to know that you were wasting away by yourself in that desolate common room. After all these years, it would have been foolish of him to assume that you wouldn’t know the best ways to get under his skin. Perhaps he should have had them tell you he was dead, though he was selfishly worried about the permanent consequences that lie would have. That, and he had a feeling that somehow you two were far too soul-tied for you to not be able to tell if he’d truly left this earth or not.

The supposed strongest was trying desperately to stay resolute in his decision, because if there was one thing he knew for certain, it was that he no longer deserved you. After everything he’d done, everything he hadn’t been strong enough to do, Satoru couldn’t bear the thought of sleeping beside you each night knowing what he was once capable of, now that he was no longer. 

What would you think of him? Even if you did accept him as he was now, would it only be out of pitiful obligation? He wasn’t sure he could stomach the idea of you shifting your life to accommodate him— not when he had made it his life’s mission since you two were teenagers to assure you never had to lift a finger if it wasn’t what you truly wanted to do. 

Satoru would hardly be able to blame you. When he got down on one knee, you had agreed to marry a version of him that no longer existed— one that was an unstoppable force, that could protect and please you without so much as breaking a sweat. This version of himself that he was now being forced to come to terms with was worthless, only a shell of his former self that you had fallen in love with. 

The stubbornness that he had grown to love since you first turned your cheek to him all those years ago was only infuriating him now. It was making it that much harder to leave you behind as he knew was best for you when you were reminding him with each passing day how well you knew him, and he wasn’t sure anyone had ever understood him on such a level— and no one ever would again. 

After nearly a week of this back and forth, with your only leaving your post to shower and barely accepting food, Satoru wasn’t sure if he’d be able to wait out your stubborn protest as he thought would be his only option. Each day, he’d tell himself that you’d cave eventually— you’d give up and go back home. You would move on and live your life until you forgot about him, safe from the burden of who he’d become. Each day though, you proved him wrong. 

The lights of the common room had already dimmed for the night, the only illumination coming from the gentle rays of the moon’s glow as it creeped in through the windows. Winter was taking its toll on the campus, especially the room you’d stubbornly decided to stay put in for the past week or so. At least if you had been at home, the comfort of your heater promised protection from the building cold. 

Despite how much your body trembled under the solace of the blanket Megumi had brought for you, you knew that home wouldn’t be nearly as comforting as the trick of nostalgia was telling you— not without Satoru there to share that warmth. 

Curling in on yourself, you stared blankly at the low table in front of you where another tray of food had been left untouched. Truthfully, a part of you wondered how much longer you could keep this protest up, only the occasional pack of soda crackers fortifying you as you waited out Satoru’s absence. The more stubborn side of you said you’d wither away here on this unforgiving couch if it meant you at least went down trying. 

The soft patter of snow falling against the windows lulled your stinging eyes shut. Even your dreams had been desperately trying to make sense of your fiance’s uncharacteristic abandonment. Nightmares plagued you most nights, Satoru being at the forefront of each one; they all ended in his horrendous death— because death was the only logical explanation you could conjure up for him leaving you behind so mercilessly. 

Tonight’s cinematic retelling of the endless possibilities of his final fate had you awakening with a start. No matter how many nights now that you had spent reliving the same grief over and over again, no amount of repitition could stop the way the tears that should have run out by now would pour from your eyes first thing each morning. 

The moon was still watching over you when you decided to pull yourself from your latest nightmare. Panting out through strained sobs, the blanket slipped down your shoulders upon your abrupt descent into a sitting position. It didn’t take you long to realize that you weren’t alone tonight, despite the criminally early hour it must have been. 

Your wide, burning eyes blinked a few times at the man standing before you as though he might vanish back into the depths of your imagination should you clear your bleary eyes enough. He remained firmly in his place, silent as death as you processed the scene you had woken up to. 

He figured you might yell at him, hit him with all the force of a scorned woman, tell him off for having disappeared, but you only assessed him quietly. With narrowed eyes, you took in the way his hair had grown out slightly past his normal length, covering his forehead in a manner that almost seemed intentional. His dark-rimmed glasses covered up the eyes that you had been longing to see for so long, almost mocking you as your own reflection stared back at you through the lenses. 

Satoru— he was standing right before you, shoulders rising and falling, but silent, and uncharacteristically so. You’d be able to pick him out of a crowd, you were sure of it, but there was something so different about him now as he stared down at you. The tendrils of cursed energy that were typically flowing out of him in overwhelming waves no longer filled the air around you. They once blanketed you in their demanding presence, but now the air surrounding you was lighter, his energy a stark difference to the one you had grown used to.

Slowly, you stood from the couch, the frigid touch of the wood floors permeating the thick layer of your socks and sending a shiver down your spine. Your eyes never left his concealed ones as you rose to stand just a hair’s breadth away from him. His Adam's apple bobbed at your sudden proximity, and it was taking all of his already frail energy to not wrap you in his arms to chase away the cold that dared to bite at your frame. 

 The man flinched back notably as your hand reached up for his glasses, but it didn’t deter you from carefully pulling them off of his face. He closed his eyes though, desperately resolute in his attempt to conceal the truth from you. 

“Look at me.” 

Your simple demand nearly broke his resolve after so long of longing to hear that melodic voice of yours again. Clenching his jaw, he slowly allowed his eyes to open, unsure of why he thought you wouldn’t be able to tell that something was different about him.

And different it was.

Satoru’s once other-worldly, glittering eyes that shone with the promise of his earth-shattering abilities were now dulled— still that breathtaking blue that you had come to love, however the absence of the trait he prided himself so devoutly on was evident, even in the dim moonlight. 

You watched as he tried to keep his face neutral, but that fierce insecurity that was so rare to see on him was breaking through his changed eyes. There was no explanation needed— you understood now with stunning clarity why he had tried to stay away. 

He must have taken your silence for horror, his lips pulling into a firm line as he leaned down to grab the tray of food he had come here with the intention of delivering to you himself. The carefully prepared meal was shoved forward.

“Eat.” 

His firm order shook you from your trance, and you were now beginning to notice the countless scars lining his face and arms that hadn’t been there when you kissed him goodbye that dreaded morning before the battle. Blinking back the mist in your eyes, you sniffled and shook your head at him, squaring your shoulders in a fierce display of determination.

“I want to eat at home.” You explained through calculated eye contact. “Take me home, Satoru.” 

It was becoming increasingly difficult to conceal the pain it was igniting in him to refuse you. Painting a scowl onto his features, he pressed the tray against your chest.

“I didn’t change my mind.” He insisted unyieldingly, hoping the contempt he was feigning was convincing. “I’m leaving, I don’t want to be with you anymore. Now— eat.” 

His words were undoubtedly a slap in the face, evident in the way you flinched back subtly. Gulping down the lump in your throat, your eyes trailed down his visibly tired frame once again. His arms were trembling ever so slightly with the weight of the tray in his hands, and you were now noticing the matching scars circling both his arms. 

“You don’t want to be with me anymore?” You repeated, though your question came out more like a statement, and it took him a moment before he reminded himself to offer a solid nod in confirmation.

 With a solemn nod of your own, you took the tray from him to place it back on the table before tugging the engagement ring off of your finger. His face contorted gut-wrenchingly at the sight, barely able to register what you were doing as you lifted his hand to place the ring in the center of it. Your expression remained fiercely neutral as you held out your own palm to him. He only blinked down at you, a misty haze clouding his gaze. 

“Give me your ring.” You demanded simply. 

It had been glaring at you since you first opened your eyes and saw him, glimmering under the faint glow of the moon. The promise ring you had given him in exchange for the one he gifted you on your third anniversary together— it was still sat proudly on his left-hand’s ring finger, awaiting to be replaced by a wedding band just as he’d replaced yours with an engagement ring only a few months ago. 

He swallowed thickly at your request, but you only shook your outstretched palm at him in expectation. Looking down at his left hand, his thumb absentmindedly rolled over the silver band, feeling the indents of you two’s initials carved into the metal under his fingertip. Despite his best efforts to control his expression, his bottom lip trembled at the implications of what he was about to do. Your heart cracked as you watched the tears pool in his eyes. Dropping his head, he allowed his hair to curtain over his eyes as the salty streams began pouring down his cheeks. 

“Don’t do this to me.” He whispered desolately with a shake of his head. A heavy sigh fell from your lips, drooping your shoulders in the process.

“Then put that ring back on my finger and take me home, Toru.”

“And then what?” Satoru exclaimed, finally looking up at you through the blur of his frustrated tears. The abrupt motion shifted his rustled hair, revealing a sliver of the thick scar running across his forehead. “I’m not the same man you agreed to marry.”

“Don’t be ridiculous—”

“Look at me!” His furious command had you flinching back ever-so-slightly. “I can barely stand on my own two feet without running out of breath. I’m weak— I lost damn near everything, and I’m not the same Satoru anymore, okay?”

“Then I will walk with you every fucking day until you get better. I never loved you because you were strong, so I don’t give a shit if you’re weak now, Satoru. And don’t you dare stand there and tell me you lost everything because I am still here, and no amount of scars are going to make me leave.” 

An agonized sob shook his frame, and he was quickly stumbling forward to sink onto the couch with a wince. Tears of your own began slipping down your face as you moved to sit beside him. He buried his face into his hands, your engagement ring still hanging on the tip of his pinky finger. 

“I don’t have anything left to give you.” His pained whisper struck you in the chest. 

Leaning forward, you carefully wrapped your arm around his bicep. There was an attempted subtly in the way you ran your fingertips delicately over the new scar circling the muscle, and you tried not to cry out as your mind put two and two together of what could have possibly happened to warrant such symmetrical marks across his body. As you tucked your chin onto his shoulder, he finally peered over at you. You offered him a wistful smile even through your tears.

“When have I ever asked anything more of you than to stay with me?” 

Just like all those years ago in your dorm room, Satoru couldn’t bear to deny you— not when you asked him so sweetly with those wide, hopeful eyes of yours. He slipped your ring back onto its rightful place and pressed a lingering kiss to the stone. The wetness of his tears dripped onto your hand, but you couldn’t possibly think of a better feeling after having gone so long without him. 

It wasn’t until you two finally made it back to your shared home that night that he realized that in the haste of his giving into you once again, he had all but forgotten about why it was so important to him that he stay away. 

“Why don’t you take a hot shower? You’re still shaking, you wimp.” Satoru tried to sound lightheaded, poking fun at you like was once so common for him, but nothing about this new arrangement would ever be common again. 

You glanced over your shoulder from the sink, where you had busied yourself cleaning the bowls you two had just eaten from. It admittedly took longer than you had expected to finish eating, as your fiancé kept pushing more food onto your plate to make up for the hunger strike he was still grumbling about that you went on. 

Turning back to place the final dish on the drying rack, you smiled fondly. 

“That depends, are you gonna come help warm me up?” 

Your teasing offer made the smile slowly slip from his face, though you wouldn’t see it with your back turned to him. He looked down at himself— the scars that now littered his body and how difficult even the most mundane of tasks had become for him in his gruelling recovery. The gentle hum of question that escaped you at his sudden silence reminded him that you were still expecting a response. 

“Well, I—”

“C’mon, I’ll meet you there.” Your airy invitation cut off whatever excuse he was about to make, and he couldn’t help but wonder if you knew exactly what he was thinking as you made your way to your shared bedroom, ruffling at his already tousled hair on the way. He remained idly at the table, staring down at himself hesitantly as the soft patters of the running shower reached his ears. 

It had been quite some time since you two were last intimate— what with his being sealed and the immediate need for his services following his release. Sex had never been an area of insecurity for Satoru. After all, he was strong and confident, and he never once had to doubt your attraction toward him. Now though, his stamina wasn’t the same, and his body sure as hell didn’t look as aesthetically pleasing as it had the last time he’d bared himself to you.

Carefully standing from his seat, he stretched out his stiff muscles before practically dragging his feet toward the room he once couldn’t wait to get you alone in. The bathroom had already steamed up considerably from the scorching water you always liked boiling yourself in. The apprehensive man hovered in the doorway, lips parting at the sight of your heavenly silhouette through the fogged, glass shower door. 

“Toru?” You called out upon hearing the door creak open a bit further.

 Cracking the shower open, you poked your head through with an anticipatory smile, but it quickly fell upon seeing the sullen expression on his face and the way his fingers twisted in uncertainty into the hem of his shirt. 

“It’s just me, babe.” You offered gently, and he responded with a barely noticeable nod. 

“Yeah, just… give me a minute. I’ll be right there.”

He was grateful that you were gracious enough to recognize his need for your patience as you nodded in understanding and slipped back into the shower. Glancing up at the ceiling in hopes that he wouldn’t catch his own reflection in the mirror, he carefully lifted his shirt over his head, wincing faintly at the stretch. His bottoms were soon joining the discarded top on the marble floor. The mirror in his peripheral taunted him, and he kept his gaze cast down as he slowly made his way to the shower. 

You smiled upon hearing the door slide open behind you, biting your cheek in anticipation of his warm hands sliding around your middle— because Lord knows your fiance was never known for his ability to keep his hands to himself. Those wandering hands never came though, and you gradually peered over your shoulder. 

He was standing just outside the shower stream, arms hovering hesitantly at his sides. The expression on his face appeared angry— not at you though, almost as though there was a self-inflicted war waging in his mind as he awaited your reaction. You blinked the continuously running water from your eyes as you turned fully around to face him. After a moment of careful, reassuring eye contact, you allowed your eyes to drift down over his tense frame.

There were a myriad of the tiniest slashes running across nearly every inch of him. Even more striking though, was the thick, jagged scar circling the entire circumference of his waist. The lump in the back of your throat made it nearly impossible to swallow down the tears threatening to spill out. Still, you did so for his sake, because the cautionary glint in his eyes told you he was waiting for your disapproval. 

The tips of your fingers reached out to graze the area carefully, knowing that despite how much the RCT must have sped along the healing process, it likely still felt fresh. He shivered under the featherlight touch of your fingertips. Your glistening body drew closer to him, and he wasn’t sure whether his insecurity would be stronger than his lust for you as your breasts grazed his chest. 

With a fond hum, your hands drifted up his chest to circle around his neck. He tried to conceal his grunt of effort as he leaned down to your level in order to kiss you properly. Nearly slipping as you lifted yourself on your tiptoes to help him, his hands immediately shot forward to steady you shakily. 

With all the doubts running through his mind, he expected you to huff in frustration, to pull away from him as he certainly wouldn’t blame you for doing. You only smiled witsfully against his dewy lips though, the bridge of your nose brushing against his as you whispered sincerely. 

“I missed you.” 

Still, Satoru wasn’t sure that his long awaited presence would ever be enough. 

After some time, you agreed to go back to work at the school, especially since Gojo was nowhere near prepared to get back into the swing of things. Though no one dared speak it into existence, everyone had already silently accepted the fact that he’d likely never be able to take on missions like he once did. More hands off teaching— sure, though it felt like a slap in the face compared to what he once was capable of. 

It wasn’t as though this was something new you were needing to jump into now. No, you had begun working as soon as you graduated just as he had. The difference was, you worked with the understanding that you really didn’t need to be doing it, and your partner always made sure you knew that you could quit at any time under the safety of his sizable wealth. Now though, there was a significant need for more help with the students in Gojo’s absence, and it was eating him alive that you now felt responsible for picking up that slack despite your insistence that you wanted to help.

Satoru had no clue anymore just what it was that he was providing you in this relationship. 

“Baby, they’ll be fine.” He pleaded for the upteenth time, unable to bear the thought of you breaking your own back while he stays at home— utterly useless. “They can wait a little longer until I come back.”

You smiled with a shake of your head, slathering on some of that lotion you always wore before bed that never failed to drive him crazy. 

“I’ve been home for the past week. You’re not sick of seeing me?” 

He scoffed as though personally offended by your accusation. Shifting forward to replace your hands with his own, he kissed your shoulder as his hands continued to work the cream into your thighs from behind. The tiniest sparks of hope ignited in him when you sighed quietly under your breath, your head gently falling back against his bare chest at the sensation of the devastatingly familiar ridges on his fingertips against your skin. 

Being intimate with you again was something he was pointedly avoiding— too ashamed of his own body to feel remotely confident enough to engage in it, and far too worried the new stress on this body would make for a comparably disappointing experience than what you were used to. Even so, he could see it on your face and feel it in your wanton sighs just how much you had missed him, and it was becoming harder and harder for him to act as though he didn’t miss it too. 

“I’ll never get sick of you.” Satoru breathed sincerely against your cheek, his thumbs digging desolately into the fat of your inner thighs. They parted in anticipation at his languid motions, allowing his hand to slip up the loose leg of your silken sleep shorts. 

“Promise?” You teased breathlessly, fisting the fabric of his sweatpants as his fingers creeped up your fluttering core. 

“With everything in me.” Though he wasn’t sure just how much that entailed anymore. 

Maybe, he thought as he dipped two fingers into your awaiting heat, if he could at least make love to you he wouldn’t feel like a complete waste of space— like there was still something he could give you even if it meant pushing the limits of his already fragile body. His arm began to ache in tandem with his steady rhythm, but you were whimpering so sweetly into his ear as though he still deserved to hear it. 

Leaning down, Satoru captured your lips in a frenzied attempt to swallow up all the pent up energy spilling from your plush lips. In his lust-clouded mind, he thought maybe it would heal him, breathe life back into his sore muscles and tingling nerve endings that taunted him with every curl of his fingers against your sweet walls. Your mouth parted involuntarily against his in a blissed cry, and it was enough to convince him that— maybe he did still have it in him. 

Offering a forlorn moan of his own, your fiancé frantically parted from you to push you back down against the mattress, each scarred over stitch across his torso screaming in protest, but he had something to prove now as he allowed his sweatpants to fall to the floor. 

Your half lidded eyes drank him in greedily, relieved to see that despite his carefully calculated restraint throughout the past few days, he still wanted you just as much as you had been craving him. Slipping your shorts down easily, neither of you seemed patient enough to waste anymore time after so long without one another. 

Satoru climbed back onto the bed, hoping you didn’t notice his wince of effort on the way. It seemed he was in the clear though, and your graceful fingers slipped up his nape and tangled into his freshly cut hair. Though he wasn’t too keen on the idea of going to a barbershop just yet— what with the peculiar scar running across his forehead, he had agreed to sit on the closed toilet lid just a few nights prior as you stood between his spread legs and carefully trimmed the wisps of white hair that had grown past his wide eyes. 

You were so grateful that you did, because now your view of those messianic eyes was unobstructed and knocking the air straight from your lungs as they always had the unique power of doing. With a heart that felt as though it was turning to mush under his zealous gaze, your impatient hands circled his hips carefully to pull his already lined up length into you. 

“God— I missed you so much.” He gasped, though he could barely get his words out through the desperate kisses he was pressing against any inch of you he could reach. You moaned in relief, tears threatening to pool in your eyes at the intensity of the long-awaited connection. “I’ll never leave you again— I swear. I’m sorry, I love you. Fuck, you feel—”

You cut him off with a sloppily aimed kiss, a fond smile breaking through your lips as you realized that of course, if his near death was going to leave him with one thing, it was going to be his rapid-fire tongue. Satoru only whined against your mouth, forgoing his previous caution and shifting his hips forward to roll into you. His stamina was already dwindling by the second, emphasized by the growing tenderness in his torso, but he’d be damned if he wouldn’t see you through your much deserved climax. 

“You okay, Toru?” You panted against his lips, taking note of the way his fist trembled against the sheets beside your head. 

“‘M perfect— don’t worry about me.” He lied, dipping down to nip at your collarbone in hopes of distracting you from the clear discomfort racing through his bones. “You’re perfect, keep making those pretty noises for me, yeah?”

It was enough to placate you for just a second longer, unable to deny him as the pitched moans continued flowing from your lips. Your pliancy spurred him on, making him feel far more confident than he should have in his current state as he ran a heated hand down your body to hook it behind your thigh. It wasn’t until he lifted it over his shoulder to snap his hips up in that way he was so used to making you melt, that a strangled curse fell through his gritted teeth. 

“Satoru—”

“I’m fine, please.” Your fiance quickly implored even through the pained scrunch of his striking features. His hand fell from your thigh to cup your face, squishing your cheeks between his frenzied fingers as it was clear the once blissed expression on your face was falling in place of frantic concern. 

“You’re not—”

“I am. C’mon, let me take care of you—”

“Satoru, get off.” 

The continued plea that was preparing to escape him got caught unceremoniously in his throat at your command. Gulping down the bile that threatened to rise up his throat, his blown out eyes searched your face while he slowly inched away from you. Shuffling up onto your elbows, you carefully pushed him onto his back, falling safely against the mountain of feathery pillows. 

His face remained solemn as you crawled over him, and though he had never been one to deny the sight of you on top of him, with the silken skin of your thighs glistening in the moonlight that flowed in through the windows and the flimsy sleeves of your tank top slid halfway down your arm— the fact still remained that it was because he couldn’t do it. The very body hindering him betrayed him as his jaw dropped at the bittersweet feeling of you sinking down onto him. 

It shouldn’t have mattered. Your face still mirrored the very bliss it reflected when he had you beneath him, but every roll of your supple hips that inched him closer to his release felt like a slash to his already mutilated chest. How could you still look at him with such admiration, and who the fuck was he if not the strongest anymore?

That night, you slept soundly beside him, curled carefully into his side with all the peace of someone who’d just made love to a partner they’d long believed dead. It drew a smooth tranquility over each crease and furrow that once dared to disturb your delicate face, your lips parted crookedly due to your cheek’s positioning against his chest. 

Dawn creeped closer and closer with the looming threat of what he’d soon be forced to accept while sleep drifted farther from his reach. His eyes burned as they stared down at your slumbering figure for hours on end, willing himself to be able to see every atom that worked in angelic harmony to make up his love the way his six eyes once allowed him the privilege of. He only grew more restless as the mundanity of his pupils only graced him with the surface level of your fathomless allure. 

Blinking away the haze that had glazed over his tired eyes, Satoru looked away from you for the first time in hours to glance at the time on the clock. It wouldn’t be long before your wretched alarm would be waking you to get ready and shoulder the burden that was once his alone. With a huff of vexation, he carefully maneuvered himself out from under you, replacing himself with the body pillow you always used in his absence. 

A strained wince escaped him as he stood quietly from the bed, yet no amount of stretching seemed to soothe what he feared would be an everpresent ache. Willing himself through it, he used his foot to scoop his discarded sweatpants up in order to avoid bending down and reminding himself of his deficits.

The lights of the kitchen nearly blinded his sleepless irises when he flicked them on, and he groaned while attempting to adjust to the sudden onslaught. His shoulders fell slowly as he looked around the kitchen in uncertainty, opening up various cabinets until he found the small collection of bento boxes the two of you had accumulated over the years. 

Gojo chewed at his bottom lip in concentration, rummaging through nearly every utensil drawer and refrigerator shelf in his pursuit. It was actually a damn miracle he didn’t wake you up in his chaotic gathering of tools and ingredients— what with each grunt of effort as he squatted and reached above his head in search of a specific pot or seasoning. 

Despite his best efforts to take it easy, his mounting frustration only grew with each tremor of his hand as he attempted to cut up the leftover salmon you two had eatent the night before into tiny chunks. With a shake of his head, he tightened his grip around the base of the knife in determination, praying to whichever god had forsaken him that he could just do this one thing for you. 

In typical Gojo fashion, there was a trail of chaos being left in his wake— bonito flakes spilled about the counter and used utensils strewn all around him by the time he was finally finishing up what would have been a simple project if at the hands of anyone else. He glanced over his shoulder at the sound of your alarm going off in the next room, and it had him speeding up his movements in a frantic attempt to get everything organized before you stepped out. 

“Toru?” Your voice was still laced with sleep by the time your gentle footsteps were making their way out into the kitchen. 

Washing off the remaining bits of sticky rice clinging to his fingers, he swiveled around to face you. Your eyes widened a bit upon seeing the flush of effort still staining his face, but he smiled tiredly at you nonetheless, a subtle timidness behind his eyes that you hadn’t seen on him in so long. Stepping forward slowly, you eyed him carefully as he wiped his trembling hands on his already stained sweatpants. 

“You sleep okay?” He mumbled into the crown of your head as he pulled you into his chest, careful not to mess up the style you had placed it in for work. 

“Yeah,” You answered hesitantly, pressing a kiss to his chest before pulling away from him and adjusting your bag over your shoulder. “What are you doing up so early?”

Averting his gaze from you bashfully, he turned around to grab the neatly folded bag to present to you, weighed down by the brim-stuffed bento box he had placed in it. Staring down at it to avoid looking in your eyes, he pursed his lips awkwardly as though embarrassed by his attempt at packing you a lunch. 

“They’ll probably be up your ass all day since they’ve been short.” Satoru began, his fingers drumming quietly against the bag with a small shrug of his shoulders. “Don’t need you passing out on me.”

His attempted chuckle at his half-hearted joke came out hesitantly as he watched you blink owlishly down at the bag outstretched to you in offering. You slowly took the bag from him, a small smile tugging at the corners of your glossed lips. He reached up to scratch at the nape of his neck in uncertainty. 

“It’s just some rice balls, but I can probably go out today and get some—”

You cut him off, reaching up onto your tip-toes to press an appreciative kiss to his jaw. 

“What would I do without you?” Your love-sick smile caught him by surprise, a dumb-struck expression falling onto his flushed face. 

Before he could stammer out a response (not that his short-circuiting mind would be capable of coherent speech right now), you pressed one more, longing kiss to his lips before promising to see him later that night and rushing out the door. 

Satoru stared absently at the door that had just closed behind you as a gradual understanding flooded his consciousness. Perhaps it was just because it had been so long since he felt the need to fight for your approval, or maybe it was that he simply never learned his lesson, no matter how much you had worked to engrain it into him over all these years. It was hardly fair to blame him though, given that all the love he’d ever been shown had those six eyes of his trailing not too far behind. 

But you— you had never batted an eye at his status, or his money, and certainly not his powers. All those years ago it had only taken some horribly disfigured rice balls for you to fall for him, stubbornly never too impressed by his technique or silver tongue. 

It was a few, lovingly crafted onigiri that helped you recognize his place in your life, and it was the very thing that, even all these years later, was helping him recognize it as well.

a/n: inner theater kid effectively placated thank u

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𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒔:

One

Two

Three

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: you decide you don't want to end your friendship because of a casual fuck. he agrees. just why is he then eye-fucking you across the room and bumping into you accidentally? 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: park seonghwa x f!reader 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.4k 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: dilf!seonghwa, bestfriend!reader 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: hair pulling, dacryphilia, public sex, cream pie, ddlg, public oral (female receiving), voyeurism, breathplay/choking, hickeys, bruising

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: choking?, swearing 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: officially, i am ready to get dicked down in a gown by park seonghwa

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲.

mr park: forgive me for doing it this way, but i would like to cancel the date. it is not the brightest idea, i was carried away by the emotions at the moment. let us close this chapter, as fun as it was. i am not looking for further interactions such as the ones we had, and i am most certainly not looking for a relationship. sorry for giving you the wrong idea. take care.

your heart drops. hidden by the curtain in the changing room, you allow yourself to sit down and drop a few tears. fuck, you were having such a good time. such a handsome, skilled, jaw dropping gorgeous man, just slipped from your grip, and there's nothing you can do about it. you crave his existence, you wish to look at him and touch him day and night. as creepy as it sounds.

the sixth dress you've tried on for the dance is already is itchy against your skin, and you sigh. the bright green isn't flattering on you at all. your friend has already picked the dress, lucky her. your budget wasn't exactly big, so finding something pretty and inside the budget was hard.

"oh, hi dad."

you freeze.

"hello, love."

even his voice is pure honey.

"how is the shopping going?"

"well, i bought mine. i'm just waiting for my bestie to finish trying on."

park seonghwa stays silent. the realization of you being here near him just moments after him ditching you put him in an awkward situation.

"hey, you good in there?" she calls, putting her head between the curtains.

"yup. i'll be right out." you stop to think, making your friend raise her eyebrow questionably. "actually, you go with your dad. i'll check a few more of those sale dresses and head home."

"sale dresses? but the blue one looked like a dream on you! you're still thinking?"

"it's a tad bit out of my budget." you confess, already annoyed at her lack of understanding that you are just not as wealthy as she is.

"oh, why didn't you say so? dad!"

"what the fuck are you doing?!"

"dad, can i get this dress for her? i know you made me block my card because i went crazy at prada yesterday, but i could really use it right now."

hearing her casually mention prada like it was mcdonalds made you a little irritated.

"no, honey. sorry. it's not a really good idea."

"but, but, you didn't even hear the price yet-"

"it doesn't matter. no more spending for this month. be happy i let you get your own dress. you have hundreds at home that are just piling up at the bottom of the closet."

"aren't we, like, super rich? what's another thousand euros for you?"

you are way too embarrassed to leave the changing room, so you stay inside in hopes they'll forget about you and just leave. you glance at the expensive dress that hangs on the wall. it's a pretty royal blue, with a thin sparkly belt on the waist and sparkly straps. it's a minimum, but makes the dress stand out.

"no, i am super rich. you are not exactly. come on, now. get your bags and get into the car. ask your friend if she wants a ride."

"uh, no." your voice is raspy, and you clear your throat. "no, thank you. i am fine."

"very well. let's go then."

you hear paper bags shuffling, then quick footsteps and the doors opening.

"sorry about my dick dad. i don't know what has gotten into him." your friend apologizes.

"you have nothing to apologize for. i didn't even expect him to do something like that, are you out of your mind?"

"oh, what's another thousand for him? he probably made a few just while having that conversation with me. he's just being an asshole."

"car. now."

your squeeze your thighs together, the stern voice coming from the man doing wonders inside your stomach.

"ugh, i'm coming!" the girl stomps after him, leaving you alone in silence.

the green dress it is then.

the day is long and exhausting. considering that you arrived to the shop with the help of your friend's chauffeur, coming back home on foot was one hell of a task. you felt like the paper bag was carrying you, instead of you carrying it. your feet burn from the walking, and you can't wait to wash the sweat and humiliation off of you. you went from a thousand euro royal dream to a fifty euro eco trash bag. at least you have that dollar store green eye shadow you can use with it. how funny.

hot water drips down your body, fogging up the glass and trapping you in your little imagination bubble. your clit is begging for attention, reminding you of all the ways park seonghwa has touched you. his fingers skillfully rub your tense bud in ways that have you wondering if any of it is real. before you know it, you're clawing at the wet tiles as your other hand tries to desperately find the good spot inside of you. he finds so easily, why can't you? your fingers can't be much shorter than his.

half an hour of chasing an orgasm later, you give up. you've spent enough water, and your parents are going to kill you when they see the bill at the end of the month. it's all park seonghwa's fault. you can just mail him the bill and demand to pay. if you weren't so busy touching yourself to the thoughts of him, that wouldn't have happened.

defeated, you exit your room, somehow feeling more tired. you stop in your tracks. a black box sits on your bed, a yellow circle logo proudly shining on it.

"what the fuck?"

you reach for the box, touching the letters underneath the symbol. you don't open it yet, just in case this belongs to someone else.

"mom?!"

"yes?!"

"what is a versace doing in my room?"

"ah, your friend's chauffeur brought it over. said it was exclusively for you! bastard wouldn't let me peek."

that's all it takes for you to dive into the box like it was a new spicy book delivery. you make sure to leave the box intact, not wanting to rip something from such a luxury brand. a blood red gown sits in your hands, plush-like fabric melting down your fingers. it feels so luxurious, and expensive. it looks like something out of met gala, like it was ripped off of blake lively and given to you.

your phone pings, interrupting you from your little daydream session.

mr park: i think the blue is too calm for you. you need something fierce for a change. sorry if i overstepped. i just saw it when driving home and had to go back for it. not a word to my daughter.

you really didn't have to, sir.

mr park: i wanted to. you'll look lovely in it. and, please, have mercy and don't look at me tonight. i am a weak man.

your breath hitches. god, is he serious? just how fierce was this dress?

before you can examine it any further, the doors of your room opens, the familiar girl barging in with her little travel bag full of makeup and hair gadgets.

"whoa, slow down."

"no slowing, there's only three hours left until dad sends the chauffeur for us. god, what is that?"

"oh, it's uh-"

"vintage versace?! oh. my. god." she immediatelly pulls it out of the box, letting the empty carton fall on the floor carelessly.

"it's my moms, she dug it out after i came back home," you lie.

"i knew your mom is so cool."

park seonghwa really meant fierce when he said it. the red dress hugs your body like it was sewn on you, the leg slit high but hidden among the ruffles of the thick quality fabric. it is a corset dress, with offshoulder straps and a low cut. you don't feel exposed though. you feel like a queen.

"this fake ruby will go so good with that dress, trust me."

"oh, thank fuck, i thought it was real," you scoff, taking the big stone necklace and putting it on.

"why? think i can't afford it?"

"oh, no, no. apologies. you can totally afford a real ruby, miss." you joke, then glance at the clock.

just in time, a car pulls up to the entrance, the driver exiting to open the doors so they're ready for the two of you.

"shit, this is it. we're gonna get so wasted."

"isn't your dad gonna be there?"

"oh, he's not going to notice me when the headmaster gets him. poor woman is convinced that my dad wants her. some people just fail to realize that he just doesn't have the time for that. nor the will."

you feel like the sentence is targeting a little, but she doesn't spare you a glance as she sits in the car. the drive there is quiet, the clicking of her nails against the phone screen being the only noise in the small space. you glance at the small mirror of your hairbrush, checking your make-up again. you are feeling a little self-conscious, having never worn make-up this bold before. a winged eyeliner, heavy highlighter on your cheeks and inner eye corner, and a blood red lipstick. it's just a dance, wasn't this a little too formal?

one of your worst fears starts creeping into you, opening the doors of bottomless overthinking and migraines. what if you arrive overdressed, and everyone there is dressed in cute floral patterns and light spring dresses? while you are here looking like you've been dressed by donatella herself. and to think that park seonghwa saw the dress in the window of a store while just driving past it, and then went all the way back to get it and deliver it just for you, makes your stomach feel like fireworks.

to your relief, as you arrive in front of the building, you see that everyone else is equally extravagantly dressed. the dance wasn't at the college, but a place that park seonghwa himself has picked. it is a mansion just outside the city, with beautiful rose bushes, a stone path through the grass, and balconies to die for. it's like he knew how to make you stay longer than you planned on this dance.

"joshua!" you greet your partner as you enter the spacious room, surprised at the big change in his appearance.

"wow, don't you look luxurious. am i allowed to stand next to you?"

you playfully hit his shoulder, blushing at the comment. he turns to your friend, making small talk with her. you use the chance to glance around the room, in hopes of seeing the man of your dreams soon. you do not spot him, but you do spot a very familiar man. a man whose face you've seen on screen, and who has seen much more than your face on mr park's screen. your face instantly goes red, and your blood is boiling. you suddenly feel naked under his gaze, but he erases that feeling by smiling sweetly your way, and waving at you as a greeting. a complete opposite of that day.

"dad isn't answering my texts. i'm just gonna go find him to let him know i'm here."

you nod, then turn your attention back to joshua. to your surprise, he has left somewhere too, you just failed to acknowledge it. you are left alone among people who are already dancing, and you feel a little bored. with the dress in hand, so that you don't trip and make a fool of yourself already, you make your way towards one of the tables that stood near the walls.

you halt your steps, suddenly coming face to face with the man who had you wrapped around his finger. you don't mind. he fails to stop in time, accidentally bumping into you and almost making you fall back. his hands are quick to grab your waist, restoring your balance again. he doesn't immediately remove his hands. you don't mind that either.

"oh, mr park."

he doesn't speak. he takes a moment to look you up and down, and you do the same. he wears a white dress blouse, and his usual black slacks. the blouse is a little see-through, and you are taking in as much as you can while he busies himself staring at you.

"sir?" you call, suddenly remembering that your friend is searching for him, and that he has not yet removed his hands from you.

"god, you look ravishing." he groans.

"sir, your daughter might be-"

"i thought i had it under control. but now that you are here..." he trails, eyes dropping on your red lips. "i wish i could just-"

"seonghwa?"

the man turns around, and your waist suddenly feels cold and empty.

"dad?" another voice calls now behind you.

"sweetie?"

"mom?!"

you are shocked by the sight. a gorgeous woman, age similar to mr park, stands in front of the two of you. luscious locks fall over her shoulders and chest, and the royal blue dress you almost bought is overshadowing yours. it looks so much better on her.

"what the hell are you doing here?" mr park is calm, despite his harsh words.

"i am here to see my daughter. and talk to you."

"there's nothing left to talk about. i'm sure your husband would mind, anyway."

"seonghwa, please."

"dad, please." your friend begs, taking his hand and giving him her best big eyes.

he isn't a fool to fall for that. but he leaves with the woman anyway, because he knows just how stubborn they both are. the once married couple makes their way upstairs, and you can't help but stare until they disappear.

"it's rude to stare." your friend says, annoyed.

"oh, sorry. i must've zoned out."

"no, you didn't. you were staring at my dad."

you scrunch your eyebrows, looking at her confused. she rolls her eyes, then folds her arms across her chest.

"i'm not stupid. you think i didn't see how you threw yourself on him just a few minutes ago? acting like you're going to fall and shit, just so he could-"

"i swear it's not-"

"oh, shut the fuck up. putting your boobs out like that in that dress. is that even your dress? did your broke ass steal it?"

you are shocked by her sudden change in behaviour. you knew she had a problem with what happened between her father and you, but why did she decide to bring it up tonight? you have brought it up before, she assured you it is alright, and now that you really did not do anything, she is acting worse than before.

"it's not zara, bitch. it's versace. where the fuck did you get it? is it from me? because i can't keep track of all of my clothes, you thought you could just take it?"

you are grateful for the loud music, muting out her yelling. you see red. you know you are at wrong, but she picked the worst time to confront you. besides, it's not like you didn't talk about it at all. you thought it was all solved. guess not.

"your dad bought it for me." you spit out.

"what?"

"he thought i'd look hot in it." you press further.

"shut up."

"in fact, he just admitted that he wants to fuck me in it tonight."

"you're fucking delusional. he is getting back together with mom, don't you see? stop embarrassing yourself."

"you're telling me that your father would take back a cheater?"

her jaw drops. she knows it's true, but she has never heard you speak so freely. and she does not like that.

her hand reaches towards your hair, pulling at it, while the other one grabs a sleeve of your dress.

"stupid whore!" she curses, yanking at the necklace around your neck.

by now, people are starting to turn heads, slowly taking out their phones and recording.

"you are a shit friend, you know that? i've given you everything, and you go behind my back to fuck my dad? not once, but twice?"

"the fuck is your problem, i thought we solved this, you lunatic?!"

it gets on your nerves that you are taking this now that you really are innocent. you fight back, pushing her away from you and accidentally stepping on her dress, ripping it. everyone gasps, hands covering their mouths but phones still up in the air.

"you-" she breathes heavily, face red with rage. "you- you absolute slut! you whore!" she screams.

"that's enough." someone says next to you, before standing in between. "get up, you are making a fool of yourself. your drunk outbursts are hurting an innocent person."

"mr kim-" you start, ready to defend yourself.

"i'm not-!"

"come on," kim hongjoong helps the girl up, keeping her in a tight grip and guiding her outside the mansion. "phones away, everyone. show's over."

in the corner of your eye, you see park seonghwa rushing downstairs, followed by a woman in tears. by now, everyone went back to dancing, assuming that the girl was simply drunk and didn't know what she was saying. you are forever grateful to mr kim.

"what happened?" seonghwa grabs your shoulders, eyes skimming the ripped sleeve of the dress.

"your daughter happened." you bite the inside of your cheek, trying to keep tears from falling.

"oh, love, i'm so sorry."

"well, i kinda earned it."

mr park looks at you confused. you sigh, then slowly start walking towards one of the empty tables so that the dance floor can free up.

"she was saying some things and i intentionally pissed her off." you explain.

"what did she say?"

"that i intentionally threw myself on you, that i'm exposing my cleavage for you, and you know, that sort of stuff."

you cannot look him in the eyes. his gaze is too intense. his eyebrows are scrunched as he looks at you, and you aren't sure if he is mad with you or his daughter.

"and what did you say?"

you stay silent. you cannot fall any lower in his eyes. instead, you pour yourself a glass of wine, taking small sips of it. you absolutely hate alcohol, but in an awkward situation like this, you'll gladly drink the whole bottle if it means it'll get you out of the subject.

"do you wish to talk somewhere more private?" seonghwa suggests, making you choke back on the liquid.

"how private?" you ask before you can think.

the man chuckles, then offers his hand for you to take. you look around, making sure that the two women aren't around to see. mr kim has probably busied himself with taking care of mr park's daughter, and his ex must've left. she seemed pretty upset. you hate that the sight of her upset makes you happy.

park seonghwa leads you upstairs, much like his ex wife a few moments ago. he passes by a few doors in the hallway, until finally opening one. the interior is similar to the one in his library, only with a much bigger book selection. but he doesn't let you examine too much. he leads you to the balcony, which reminds you of the one from romeo and juliet. it looks like something from an old castle abandoned in the woods, with vines growing all over the old broken stone. the manor is surrounded by a light forest, just a few minutes away from the city, but the view from the balcony makes it seem like it is in the middle of a fantasy field. there is no light pollution, therefore you are able to see millions of shiny dots up in the sky. before you can keep gazing, mr park rests his hands on your waist, turning you around so that your back rests against the stone fence.

"sir?" you ask, hoping he would say something that you'll have an answer to.

"i was right. red is your colour."

his finger brushes over your red lips, then continues down your jawline, the neck bones, and to the cutout of the dress. he caresses the skin above the material, mere millimeters away. you are shivering, despite the pleasant weather tonight. you look into his eyes, bite down your lip when you see how focused he is in his moves.

"now that it's ripped off anyway, i'd love nothing more than to shred it to bits, just to see you again."

"but, you said-" you try reminding him of his message. he is very confusing to you.

"i know what i said. i can't help it." he steps closer to you, face inches away from yours. "i dream of devouring you in this dress."

his hand takes the wine glass from yours, lips pressing against it to take a sip. he looks deep into your eyes while he does so, faint glint getting you more riled up. you feel yourself dripping through the thin material of the thin lace thongs you wore, and it feels like he can feel it too somehow.

the glass is set on the fence now, a safe distance from both of you. you think he will finally speak again, but the man has other plans. his main plan seems to make you fall into his arms tonight, and it is working. his hands cup your face, and he presses his lips against yours. your hands are gripping the cold stone, not knowing what to do from the sudden explosion of emotions. carefully, park seonghwa pours the wine from his mouth into yours, sensually kissing you along the way.

aside from it being the hottest fucking thing that has ever happened to you, you are also happy that you didn't spill any of it. you swallow, and when you try to move away to catch a breath, he only deepens the kiss, your face still in his palms. he tugs on your lips, biting them gently, sucking them, swiping his tongue along them, with a satisfying rhythm. you can't help but whine into his mouth, a certain part of you wishing for more friction.

"all you have to do is say the words, doll." he says, voice deep and almost a whisper.

"what words?" you ask, stupidly.

"any words. anything that will give me a green light." he answers, eyes searching yours for any kind of signal.

you think, for a short time that to seonghwa seemed like years.

"take me. here. on this balcony."

seonghwa groans, and leans in again to give attention to your lips. his hands roam your body, mainly focusing on your waist and thighs. he grabs your flesh through the fabric, squeezing it with desire as his tongue hungrily chases yours, not getting enough of it no matter how much he gets.

he pulls away too fast for your liking, and before you can whine again, he drops down on his knees. his perfectly polished shoes are forgotten as they suffer scratches from the floor, and his perfectly ironed black pants will soon meet a similar fate.

"hold this for me, pretty?" he asks, handing you the bottom of your dress.

you are caught off by the sudden situation, yet your body responds immediately and takes the fabric from him. you can barely see him from the red ruffles, but you can definitely feel the hot wet muscle licking through the thin lace of your underwear. you sigh, your head falling back at the hot sensation on your clit.

"don't hold back, please. i want to hear you."

you feel uneasy, but the moment he pushes your panties aside and attaches his lips to your core, you do not care. you whine, breathe heavily, moan, pull at his hair in ecstasy. you love the thrill of knowing that anyone could walk in and the first thing they'd see is the two of you doing sinful things in the moonlight. bet they'd love the sight, too.

"fuck, sir-" you gasp, feeling him sucking on your sensitive bud.

"fuck, i love it when you call me sir. call me more names, darling, i beg you."

"m-make me," you choke out, feeling his finger sliding between your walls.

he scoffs, playfully tugging on your covered nipple as he continues pumping his finger in and out of you. he does it slowly, making sure to brush against the sensitive spot but not give it complete attention. just enough to keep you on the edge.

"oh, i'll make you. don't you worry." he promises.

his hands grab your thighs, almost raising your body from the ground, so that he could eat you out properly. you have the urge to close your legs, but his hands are firm and keep them open. you shake against his restless tongue, hoping to release soon.

"mr. park- please- please-" you beg, choking back tears.

you do not know why you tear up in sexual situations with him. from the pleasure? from the pain of edging? from knowing that this might be the last time you're doing it?

as soon as he hears your voice shaking, mr park stands up, making sure that it really is what he thinks it is. without a word, he kisses you again, lips wet with your arousal. he keeps fingering you, knuckles disappearing between your folds and deliciously preparing you for him.

"turn around for me, little girl."

his words shoot arrows to your core, and it takes a lot of strength in you to do as he says. his fingers find their place right under your jaw, softly pressing into your neck and making it difficult for you to stay sober. he releases every now and then, just enough to let you breathe properly. his other hand moves the back of your dress, giving it to you to hold onto, and then raises your leg so that it rests on the fence. you are now standing on one leg, wet core completely exposed to the cool night air and him.

"good girl," he praises, leaving a kiss on the top of your head. "so flexible for me."

you hear a zipper, then clothes ruffling. you breathe out when you feel something smooth and hot rubbing up and down your folds, not yet entering. your head drops from the dizziness of his playful choking, and your eyes widen when you finally see the rest of the view from the balcony.

down there, in the garden behind the manor, there are three benches and a fountain. and on one of the benches, his ex wife. she seems to notice you at the same time you notice her, judging by her sudden jaw drop and widened eyes. you don't get to warn him, as you are interrupted by your own gasp caused by his hot muscle pushing inside your tights walls. he wastes no time in thrusting into you, quickly catching a rhythm while simultaneously pulling your hair with his other hand. at this point, it is more you thrusting back into him than he is thrusting forwards into you. you need his every inch, no matter how fucked up the situation at the moment is.

you can't help it, you look at the poor woman in the eyes, moaning as her ex husband is tearing you apart on the balcony of their once shared holiday manor.

"louder," he growls, speeding up his movements.

and you do it. you moan, louder, not on purpose, but because it really feels that good.

"fuck, your cunt is made for me."

"da-daddy-" you test the grounds, and he halts his movements.

shit, you fucked up.

"what?" he says, out of breath.

"nothing-" you gasp, his fingers pressing into your neck, "daddy, i said daddy-"

you are interrupted by a moan again, as he begins thrusting harder. the woman is on the verge of tears, and even though you feel a little bad, the feeling of her husband's cock filling you up feels too good. you also remember the reason they parted. she did the same with another man. you allow yourself a moment of braveness, already having said goodbye to the friendship with their daughter.

you smile down at the woman, then reach behind to grab mr park's hair. you moan, loud and clear, more for her to hear. the man groans, burying his head into your shoulder and biting down, making you gasp and close your eyes in pain. his hand rests on your lower back, making you arch it just a bit more so he can finally hit the spot you both need.

you open your eyes, only to find her still standing there in disbelief and shock. she is disgusted with you, and heartbroken by him. and you do not care.

"mr. park, you're too big for me-" you choke out.

he slows his movements, then raises his head from your shoulder. he admires the bruise he has created for a moment, then follows your gaze down to the benches. upon seeing his ex wife, you expect him to stop. but he only does so for a moment, before yanking down the fabric on your chest and exposing your breasts. he continues diving into you, softly panting into your ear and driving you insane.

the woman seems too stunned to even move. it is clear she is not enjoying it, she isn't a voyeour.

"you're taking me so well, doll. you should see how abused your pretty pussy looks, begging me to cum all over it and inside it." he growls, then grabs your jaw so that he can look at you.

his eyebrows are scrunched, focused on the approaching orgasm.

"moan for me more, baby, please. you sound majestic."

unable to hold back, you moan into his mouth, hips thrusting back in a desperate attempt to reach the orgasm. it is building up inside of you for so long, threatening to overflow any moment now. but he has complete control over the rhythm, and the moment you start moving too, he chokes you just a little harder.

"sir, please, sir, let me cum- i want to cum on your dick so, so bad," you say everything that is on your mind. he enjoys seeing you vulnerable in his hands, and slows down the pace just to hear you some more.

"you want to cream on daddy's cock, little girl? you want me to fill you up all the way, to have you walk with my cum inside your abused little hole the entire night? have my daughter apologize to you as you desperately try to keep my seed from spilling down your legs?"

"mr park-"

"yes, angel."

"sir-"

"just a bit more, doll."

"seonghwa-" you scream, and he is quick to press his lips on yours to calm you down.

feeling your walls squeeze from the waves of the orgasm, you take him over the edge, his seed painting your walls and making it easier for him to ride his own orgasm out. your body shakes from the intense pleasure, and from the sudden rush of cold air on your bare arms. mr park is quick to release your neck, and wrap his arms around you and press your body against his chest. he kisses you sweetly, simultaneously rubbing your arms in an attempt to warm you up. his cock twitches inside of you, and he is still slowly thrusting in and out, riding out the rest of the orgasm.

you breathe heavily into his mouth, legs going limp and threatening to become numb any second. he finally helps you set your leg down, and slowly pulls out of you. hot seed spills out of your hole and down your leg, and you are scared that it will stain the dress.

"do you trust me?"

"huh?"

"do you trust me?" he repeats himself, guiding you so that your body is facing him again.

"well, yes, i- oh!"

he picks you up by your waist, so that you can sit on the stone fence. it is wide enough for you to sit comfortably, but if you could choose not to, you would. his hands are holding you firmly, and his eyes tell you he isn't letting go.

"this dress looks gorgeous on you, but it is in my way the whole evening," he huffs, flipping the dress once more.

"no, i'm too sensitive-" you try to stop him, but he hushes you.

"trust. me."

he doesn't touch your clit. he doesn't try to finger you. instead, he collects the white streak that has started the journey down your thigh, pushing it back into your hole. you feel yourself becoming wet again, horny and angry butterflies raving in your stomach. he uses his two fingers to gently push all of his seed inside you again, and he looks up at you with deadly eyes. you recognize the lust once again, and you almost moan at the sight. "now, let's go find my daughter to get your apology." “no!” you protest, panic swallowing you.

“relax. she will say no, I will be mad at her, and she will then ask to go with her mother.”

you try to follow, but you can’t. why is he so careless about his daughter choosing his ex wife over him? he seems to realise your confusion, and laughs fondly.

“that way, nothing can stop us doing this any time and anywhere. and, I can finally make that dinner reservation at the new restaurant. been dying to try it with you.”

“but, I don’t have any money. I cannot pay my share.”

park seonghwa chuckles, then leaves a soft kiss on your forehead. you feel all fuzzy and warm, feet swinging under the dress from the simple act.

“I’ll gladly be your sugar daddy. just the more romantic and relationship type of sugar daddy.”

oh.

“what do you say?”

“I say your cum is ready to be washed out so I better go fetch my apology.”

“good girl.”

taglist for this series

@scardorosht @kitty4hwa @atinism @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @rkivesofmymemories @i-love-ateez @bangmechann @dandelion-aj @rialovesyunho @bellamuerte1987 @livingdeadlisa @jen176pink @yeosxxx @az-con @313hwa @btsreader12 @dafodillhwa @enhypemen @perfetlysane24 @linoriii @likexaxdaydream @yeosangsbbg @starbvrryhwa @riboism

[paperstorm]

Thanks for the tags @carlossreaders and @henrygrass!

Carlos catches his eye and there’s a funny flipping sensation immediately in TK’s stomach. He could kick himself over it and a little bit wants to stick his own head in a toilet like he’s his own childhood bully. Carlos is attractive and so what, TK internally chastised himself. Most musicians who make it are attractive. He’s sat across the table from dozens of people who are far better looking than either of them. He brushed shoulders with Beyoncé at an awards show once and had to stop himself from passing out on the spot, despite the fact that he’s never been romantically interested in women for a single second of his life.

Carlos steps around his bandmates to make his way to TK across the room. He holds his hand out, a truly maddening amount of sincerity in his humble expression as he says, “Hi, I’m Carlos. This is amazing, man, thank you so much for this opportunity.”

“TK.” He reaches out and shakes, but keeps it brief and lets it fall away quickly. “And yeah, it – wasn’t exactly my idea.”

“Oh.” The line of Carlos’s mouth flattens almost imperceptibly, but TK catches it.

“No, I just mean, I’m not really who you have to thank,” TK clarifies quickly. He wants to sulk about it. He wants to stomp his feet and raise a stink and demand they be allowed to tour with no opening act at all, just to shove it in everyone’s doubting faces when he can still put asses in the seats and money in the bank accounts of their financial backers. But it isn’t fair to make his resentment this man’s problem; none of this was his doing, either. TK reminds himself of that as if he’s a schoolteacher wagging a disapproving finger in his own head.

“Right.” Carlos nods. “Well … I mean, you could’ve said no. So thanks for giving us a chance.”

“Sure.” TK nods back at him, trying to arrange his facial features into a smile that probably ends up more of a grimace. It isn’t the truth. Billy made it very clear that TK couldn’t say no, that Carlos and his band opening was a condition of the tour existing in the first place. TK gets the sense Carlos doesn’t know that, and there is a small, bitter part of him that wants to tell him just to watch the sincerity slip off his stupid handsome face.

There’s a round of noisy laughter behind them. Carlos turns, and TK tilts his head to the side to see around his broad shoulders. He gets no clues as to what’s so funny, but he takes in the smiling faces of his band and the smiling faces of Carlos’s band and gets a pit in his stomach.

Carlos looks back at him, offering him an awkward half-smile.

“Is this your first time to New York?” TK asks, almost certainly failing to hide how much he hates small talk.

Carlos nods. “We just flew in this morning, so we haven’t really seen anything, yet.”

“What are, uh …” TK stumbles over his words and shakes his head.

The only thing Billy told them was to show up at his office to a meet-and-greet, he wonders if they’re being intentionally left in the dark about some of the other details in a way they normally wouldn’t be. TK’s usually been involved in the process of planning a tour, he’s been cc’d on emails and participated in meetings and been asked for his opinion on venues and promotional materials. This time, he has a sneaking suspicion everything was plotted out without his knowledge while he was still in rehab. Everything seems to be moving far too quickly to not have been already decided on, and TK wasn’t in on any of those decisions.

Carlos’s eyebrows raise. He looks even more like a Golden Retriever when his head tilts to one side in question, and TK presses his lips together.

“Our first show isn’t for six weeks, did they drag you guys here just to meet us, or …?”

“I think so, yeah.” Carlos answers. “And to meet with your people, I guess. Iron out the details of the contract and all that.”

“Right.” TK nods shortly. “Well … hopefully you get to see a bit of Manhattan before you head back to Texas.”

Tagging @theghostofashton @birdclowns @reyesstrand @strandnreyes @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut

@carlos-in-glasses @actual-sleeping-beauty @thisbuildinghasfeelings @herefortarlos @heartstringsduet

@goodways @alrightbuckaroo @lightningboltreader @freneticfloetry

@liminalmemories21 @nancys-braids @whatsintheboxmh @bonheur-cafe

@reasonandfaithinharmony @thebumblecee @never-blooms @lemonlyman-dotcom

@sanjuwrites @orchidscript @jesuisici33 @kiwichaeng @honeybee-taskforce

@hereghostslive @butchreyes @just-inside-her @firstprince-history-huh @captain-gillian

@tellmegoodbye @anactualcaseofthetruth @ironheartwriter @eclectic-sassycoweyes @ditheringmind

@emsprovisions @irispurpurea @nisbanisba @corsage @chicgeekgirl89

@carlossreaders @ladytessa74

Want to be added or removed from the list? Lmk

[minhosimthings]

A La Folie ft. Jay || Part 2

Synopsis: Wounds came and went. All in the circle of life am I right? The greatest warrior among all the kings, Park Jay. For him, seeing blood was like seeing the sky. It was a daily routine which he could not escape. Yes sometimes he had grave injuries, which he wouldn't stop to take care of, with him being a workaholic. But sometimes healers do more than heal physical wounds, and for Jay, you did exactly that.

Pairings: King!Jay × healer!fem!reader

Warnings: fluff, angst, suggestive at the end, SMUT IN THE NEXT CHAPTER MY BABIES, mentions of food, mentions of abuse, reader has scars, mention of blood and violence, hurt/comfort, reader has a panic attack, Heeseung suffering a shit ton lmao I'm sorry hee

A/N: I am legit so sorry for the long wait my babies I wanted to make this as perfect as possible! Thank you for the notes on the first part YAY!!! And the next chapter has smut hehe 😏😏

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3

The French Quotes Series Masterlist

Memories are said to be core parts of a person's life, no matter good or bad.

The only memories you had were of blood, broken glass, and destroyed homes.

Laughter had always seemed so frightening to you, it reminded you terribly of your mother and father's drunken laughter, as they put the belt to their daughter, just because she was a daughter.

Laughter was no longer how your older brother used to comb your hair, how he used to engulf you in his arms everytime the house was filled with things that a seven year old shouldn't be hearing.

Laughter and love, no longer seemed to exist, as you looked down on the bruises on your skin, and wondered when the last time someone had noticed it under all your setting powder was.

Oh right.

Just over an hour ago by the goddamn king of the place you lived in. The possibility of something going wrong was approximately zero, and yet your powder just had to melt off.

Now you were slumped against your bed, almost about to tear your hair out at how much you were regretting even signing up for an apprentice's position in the palace. At the time, when you were fifteen, it seemed the only possible solution, to get away from your home.

To get away from Jooyeon, atleast.

Knock knock knock.

You let out a loud groan at the sound of tapping on the door. Who on earth was calling for you now?

Checking the clock on the wall, you seethed. Begrudgingly getting up, you dragged yourself to the door, and opened it only to find-

"Your Highness!" You gasped, quickly bending into a curtsey at the light footed man standing before you, "Um..am I of any requirance?"

Heeseung chuckled, and pressed his hand to his chest, returning the respect but bowing to you and sweeping away a stray hair from his forehead.

"Jay just sent me over to you to find out if you were alright, Miss Y/N." He said, with the air of a holy messenger, "You seemed to have rushed out the door on his saying something. Did he offend you perhaps?"

"Oh." You breathed a sigh of relief, not realising your facial expression until you saw Heeseung's amused face looking at you, "Oh no! No absolutely not! No, it's um—its really my fault, sort of. Um—is-is he quite mad?"

Heeseung mused over the question for a bit, quietly laughing to himself at how flustered you were.

"Well I wouldn't say mad." Heeseung finally answered after what seemed like an eternity, "But I would say extremely confused and possibly bleeding out his bandages again."

"Fuck." You cursed under your breath, hoping Heeseung didn't hear what you said, "I'll see it to the matter straight away, Your Highness."

"Oh please, Miss Y/N, call me Heeseung." He winked flirtatiously at you, to which you wanted to slightly gag.

"Is it a custom for all Paradoxica kings to allow their nurses to call them by their names?" You chuckled, remembering how Jay so magnificently told you to call him by his name.

"Maybe just for the handsome ones." Heeseung jested, throwing you another wink, which you tried hard not to frown at.

As Heeseung's footsteps faded away, you turned to the door in front of you. Taking a deep breath, you strode forward and slowly opened the door, having the scent of musk hit your nostrils with a bang again, as your eyes fell upon Jay, sitting calmly against the bedframe with his bandages drenched in red.

"May I come in, Your Majesty?" You forced the sentence out, not daring to meet Jay's eyes. You heard a slight hum of approval, to which you sighed a breath of relief and strode in, immediately going to the tiny table you had set up in the corner of the room and getting your supplies to change Jay's bandages, not noticing how Jay's eyes were following your every movement.

Silence filled the room for many minutes as you went on with your routine of pressing the ointment against his wounds and wrapping them up in clean linen. You hadn't dared to lift your lids up to Jay, all the while you were touching his stomach.

"Who did that to you?"

The air stilled drastically, at Jay's cold question, which he offered in a bittersweet voice, and you knew he could see how you visibly froze, from the hair on top of your head down to your little toe finger.

"Pardon me, Your Majesty?" You said, pretending not to hear the question and quickly wrapping up your tools. But Jay was quicker.

"I said—" he leaned forward, to your figure sitting on the stool and he whispered dangerously in your ear,

"Who gave you that mark on your shoulder?"

Jay's suspicions proved true at your flinch at his tone. Leaning back to look at your face, he saw nothing but pure fear and a few tears. His thoughts immediately started to run wild.

"Forgive me." He sighed, "That was too far."

"It was." The words ran out before you could stop them, and a bit harsher than you had wanted.

"May I be please be excused?" You asked him, trying hard to ignore the pit in your stomach and the urge to throw yourself onto a bed and sob.

That night, you tried everything to fall asleep. Empty packets of chamomile were all strewn over the floor, the heavy scent of lavender candles floated in the air, and yet nothing was knocking you out.

Sleep came very late into the darkness and sleep came disturbed. You had no idea how many times your eyes cracked open and stared at the ceiling above because the nightmare just seemed too damn real to be a figment of your imagination. You wondered how it would have been like if you had stayed with Jay all night in his chambers, you had heard that Mrs.Chun often stayed with him when he was injured.

Secrets and secrets never to be untold, you started to write in your diary again, to kill your time, and hopefully drowse off as soon as your poem was completed.

Little did you know, a certain king was doing the same thing next door.

"So let me get this straight-" Sunghoon ran his fingers through his hair, "You have a very attractive woman your age tending to you, almost touching your abs, talking to you like you want to be talked to, smells like lavender, and an apparently suspicious bruise on her shoulder and you want to find out where that thing came from but she won't tell you?"

"Well when you say it that way." Jay glared at his fellow king, "And anyways I'm pretty sure she's upset with me right now, she practically ran out on me yesterday."

Sunghoon snickered and ran a hand through his hair again. "How are you holding up? With the injury and all?"

"It's much better than Y/N expects me to rest for." Jay scoffed, "Have you seen her out of her chambers when you were coming here?"

"I think she's in the infirmary." Sunghoon scratched his head, "One of the maids told me that she was busy."

If you were in the infirmary, the infirmary was where Jay would go. With a heavy breath, he lunged himself off of the bed and onto his feet, to the concerned brow raise of Sunghoon.

"Alright you should return to your palace now, doesn't the kingdom need you and all?"

"I don't think so." Sunghoon threaded his fingers into his locks, "It's a bright sunny day, Jongsoeng brighten up a bit!"

"If you touch your hair one more time Park Sunghoon, I will brighten up your funeral."

The infirmary was a place of healing. For both physical and mental wounds. For most of your teenage years, Mrs Chun had set about trying heal the latter, by immersing you into the art of healing others. It had been fascinating, you thought, the quiet of the stone walls and the cold air brushing against your skin with kisses you preferred. It made you forget your home.

So it wasn't a surprise that this was the place you came to early in the morning when the king had ordered your presence. You were currently working on a nightmare potion for yourself, trying to mix in some additionalities to make you dream about something else.

Your carefully measured out drops of cranberry juice caught your attention as the vibration from the sound of heavy steps coming from outside made it quiver ever so slightly.

Sighing to yourself when you heard the door knob's knock, you abandoned your chemicals and went towards the door, thankful for your infirmary outfit of trousers because they didn't drag behind you. Why couldn't you have worn this when you were tending to-

"Your Majesty!" You all but screamed, quickly bowing to the man in front of you, "uh....hi." you added awkwardly at the end.

"Hi." Jay replied back, "And I told you not to call me that. Just call me Jay it's fine."

"You're the goddamn king, I can't just call you by your first name." You retorted as Jay walked in and dropped into the chair by the table where your nightmare potion lay, "Do you need anything?"

"Entertainment." Jay replied promptly, curiously poking at some herbs, "Why don't you wear that often?"

"Pardon?" You said before looking down and realising what you were wearing. You quickly grabbed a blanket and covered your lower portion, "That wasn't meant for anyone's eyes."

"You look good." Jay winked, nibbling on the cilantro you had saved for the potion, "Is that a nightmare potion?"

"Mrs Chun told me you were horrible at potions." You laughed, letting do of the blanket and striding over to Jay, plopping down on the chair opposite to him, "Kudos to recognising the potion."

"She's exaggerating, you know how old women are these days."

"How old do you suspect I am?" You asked, curious as to the king's opinions on women's ages. Jay thought for a moment before speaking.

"Depends." He leaned forward and smiled, "How old do you think I am?"

"45." You answered with an air of pride to your voice, to which Jay gasped dramatically and put a hand to his chest.

"You wound me Y/N." He chuckled, "Healers are supposed to heal aren't they?"

"Well depending on how you take your tea with a jar full of honey, you're certainly an old man." You were uncontrollably laughing now, "We're the same age, 22."

There was a moment of silence, in which you silently took the potion away from his radius and into your hands, your eyes widening dangerously at the bubbling liquid.

"Damn it!" You said, wincing at the hot touch. You looked around frantically for something, anything, which could calm the potion down, while Jay looked on, confused at your doings. Nevertheless, he got up and started to look for whatever you wanted.

"What are we looking for?" Jay asked as you ripped open the cupboards, the potion was bubbling aggressively by now.

"Something that can calm the potion down!" You cried, trying to get your mind to think, something to neutralize liquid, "like a lemon, alkali something."

Jay knew nightmare potion was dangerous when it wasn't neutralized, poisoning the skin of those whose grasp it reached. He racked his brain, trying to remember what Mrs Chun had taught him.

"Oh how about that baking soda there!" Jay pointed, wincing slightly as he felt pressure against his wounds but he tried not to show it, "It's alkali is it not?"

You had no time to respond as you grabbed thd baking soda at the speed of lightning and poured it all into the potion. The aggravated liquid seemed to calm down, as the bubbles slowly faded away and the colour changes from green to its normal azure.

"Thank the fucking heavens." You sighed, plopping down on the table much to Jay's amusement, "Thank you, Jay."

"I don't think Mrs Chun would like the state of this room right now." Jay motioned to the floor, where powders and cupboards lay ripped open from your frantic try to find an alkali. He was right of course, Mrs Chun would have killed you. The baking soda was also finished.

"Ah damn." You said, not realising the amount of times you swore in front of the kind today, you had to go out and get new ones now. You started to pick up the bigger jars which were thankfully not broken and arrange them back, not noticing Jay doing the same thing behind you. When you did notice however you were horrified.

"Your Majesty sit down!" You commanded, forcing Jay down onto the chair, "You'll worsen the injury."

"But I want to help." Jay visibly pouted, adorable, you thought, "Please?"

"Absolutely not." You responded, five minutes away from tying him to the chair, "If you're that bored, we can talk, but under no circumstance am I allowing you to bend and work."

Jay considered his options and came to the conclusion that talking was the better option. He wanted to find out more about your mysterious ways of enchanting him so well, about that scar too....

"Shall I start then?" Jay asked, as you nodded and started on the mess again, "Favourite food?"

"That's the best question you could think of?" You scoffed playfully, nevertheless smiling at him, "Apricots. Alright my turn. Hm..allergies?"

"Peaches, which is a pity because I love peaches. Hobbies?"

"Most of the time, reading, but I like experimenting here in the infirmary." You said. You liked this conversation, it was peaceful, bouncing back on each other with questions of all kinds. There was laughter, teasing and perhaps the most happiness you had felt in a lot of time.

"Birds can take over the world, you can fight me on that."

"If I fought you over it, I'd probably lose." Jay laughed, holding his stomach from the amount of bird jokes you both had made in the past fifteen minutes.

"So any siblings?"

Jay's question made you freeze again into that familiar pose Jay had grown to hate now. He wondered whether it was something related to your family that you were making the nightmare potion for.

"I'm sorry, you clearly aren't comfortable with discussing it I won't bring it up agai-"

"No it's alright." You sighed, letting out a breath that felt like it had been caged forever somewhere, "I-Well I don't speak with my family anymore they weren't exactly the loving type, a-and I ran away when I was 14."

14. That was the age when Jay lost everything.

"Well I guess we have a lot in common then." Jay sent you a comforting smile. God he had a gorgeous smile, you wished you could see it on his face at all times of the day.

"That would be a horrible similarly wouldn't it?" You forced a kindred smile. Jay nodded at your statement, and picked up the cilantro again, bringing the smaller leaves to his mouth to chew.

"Well I'll leave you to your work." Jay slumped off of his chair, the pain in his bandages had decreased now, "Good day Y/N."

"Good day Your- I mean Jay."

Jay had no idea how he managed to reach his chambers, his feet managed to trace the path back, all that was on his mind was how much if a mystery you still were.

That night, he opened the glass case in his room for the first time in seven years, taking out the ruby dagger and admiring how much it felt like your touch.

"Hyung are you serious?" Jay's fingers massaged his temple, as Heeseung smirked.

Both of them were sitting outside, in the warm afternoon Sun after you had allowed Jay to go outside on making sure his bandages were healed. It had been a few days since the infirmary incident, and Jay had constantly sneaked up so many times and messed with your potions that you had to threaten to rip apart the infirmary and blame it on him when Mrs Chun returned. Jay had heard worse threats in his life, but never before had he actually listened to them than now.

Plus it was the only thing that could allow him to see you in your shirt and trousers fit which he adores so much, even if you glared at him while he made suggestions for a potion while sitting next to you. Granted, he had been useful sometimes, particularly the time, he carefully bandaged your hand when you got a nasty burn from some dragon scales.

Unbeknownst to him, you though he looked adorable, with his tongue stuck out in pure concentration, as he carefully pressed his fingers across yours. It bought a blush to your face.

"It's the only favour I ask of you Jay" Heeseung tried to put on his best boba eye impression, to manipulate Jay into asking you out on a date. To Heeseung's wedding.

"Why can't you ask?" Jay sighed, talking a sip of his lemonade.

"Because Y/N isn't making my heart beat at the pace of a cheetah, she's making yours." Heeseung smirked, "Wait isn't that her?"

Jay's head whipped around to look behind him, making a crack sound as it went. His eyes landed on someone in the distance, wearing an olive dress and a straw hat, carrying a wickerwork basket, possibly to pick some on the daffodils growing in the garden. Royal healers were always allowed to pick herbs in the garden, so that's what you were probably doing.

God you looked beautiful, Jay thought. It reminded him of earlier, happier days, of days when laughter echoed high through the walls and flowers bloomed. Especially lavender. Lavender, like his mother....

"Jay, you're staring." Heeseung coughed loudly, snapping Jay out of his euphoria.

In the distance, you were willing away your time by plucking out tiny bristles of daffodils, they would do you good in makin the nightmare potions again. It wad a pleasant day today and you hadn't expected Jay to come out, but there he was, sitting alongside Heeseung in a loose white shirt, open slightly at neck. You hoped fervently that there weren't any mind readers present at the scene, lest they read all your extremely unholy thoughts.

The last few days, were fun, happy even. You liked Jay making conversation with you at the infirmary. Sure he annoyed you sometimes, but you didn't think you had laughed this much in ages now. It felt like home, true home, which you hadn't ever known the feeling of.

The sound of loud coughing made you flinch as you turned around to see both the royals snap their heads into the distance from staring at you. Giggling to yourself, you began to walk towards them, basket full of daffodils in hand.

"Fuck she's coming here." Jay whispered, pretending to look busy in fishing the cilantro pieces out from his glass.

"And I thought I was the lovesick one." Heeseung rolled his eyes, quickly putting on his brightest smile, as he saw you approaching.

"Miss Y/N!" Heeseung bowed to you, trying to sound like he wasn't about to possibly ruin Jay's love life, "Are you doing well?"

"Perfect, Your Highness." You curtsied, noticing Jay still hiding his face, "Congratulations on the betrothal, Your Highness, or should I call you Heeseung?"

"You remember?" He shot you a cheeky smile, sitting down on his chair agin, as you sat down on the one a servant brought you, "Well I assume you are coming to the ball? I would be devastated if my darling Queen didn't meet you."

You chuckled and quietly shook your head. "I don't believe I was invited. Plus, i have no family or friend to go with."

"Oh what a coincidence! Jay doesn't either!" Heeseung said, in a fake cheery voice, as Jay groaned silently to himself and fervently wished to disappear from this moment. This was by far the weakest he had ever felt in all his life.

"Oh...um... That's sad?" You were uncertain on what to say. Heeseung took a deep breath, and reminded himself that he had to play Cupid properly.

"Yes it's so sad, don't you think it would so nice if you two went together?"

Perhaps the most frightening thing the birds heard that day was the sound of Jay's cough at Heeseung's sentence.

"Jay! Oh my god-" you panicked, bit Heeseung merely rolled his eyes and harshly patted Jay's back.

"Calm down idiot." Heeseung grumbled, and then turned back to you with a bright smile on his face, "Anyways, as we were saying, how about it Miss Y/N?"

"Well, for starters-" you said, with the air of a true healer, "I have to go out to town and get some supplies, the infirmary is nearly out. And secondly, it is a royal ball. I don't believe I have anything royal to wear."

"Oh pity, I think Jay knows a really good seamstress in town don't you Jay?" Heeseung smirked at a red eared Jay who was doing everything in his power to appear not flustered, "Plus weren't you going to go on your undercover rounds tomorrow Jay? Oh that's perfect! You and Y/N can go get the supplies in town, and get some measurements for her dress and voila! A perfect date to my wedding!"

That night, both you and Jay went to sleep peacefully, without scented candles or chamomile teas.

That night, a healer and a king couldn't wait for tomorrow's gift.

(And Heeseung slept, giggling next to his annoyed but loving wife)

"You look rather dashing." You giggled, clutching a basket tightly in your hand, and leaning against the door, admiring the figure of the man in front of you. Jay was clad in simple clothes today, a workman's attire. And he still looked more handsome that the devil himself.

"Oh shut up." Jay rolled his eyes, "You definetly look prettier."

"Where did you learn to impress a lady like that hmm?" You questioned, as Jay tried everything to adjust his collar and failed, "That's not how you press the fabric down idiot."

"First of all-" Jay glared playfully at you, "I didn't learn it just comes to me naturally" you scoffed at that, "Second of all you just called the king of tis kingdom an idiot. And third of all-" his eyes went round like the ones he used when he wanted something, "Can you adjust this collar please?"

"Idiot." You laughed, putting your basket down and walking over to him, your hands going up towards his unruly collar, "My idiot, unfortunately."

"Since when do healers get to own people?" Jay jested, feeling his entire world freeze at the soft touch of your hands. God you smelled like lavender and love.

Love? That four lettered word? Please, Jay mentally scoffed, it didn't exist.

But as Jay watched you, felt your fingers touching his neck, and your waist pressing against his, as you carefully adjusted the collar, in that very moment, he saw the most beautiful aspects of his life, and he knew he was helplessly in love. He craved your touch, your presence, your eyes stuck to his, anything with you. Was this the love his mother always spoke of?

"And I'm done!" You breathed a sigh of relief, the collar was hard to pull down, and you were relieved when it finally flattened. What you weren't expecting however, was Jay staring at you with widened eyes when you looked up from his neck.

"Um...Jay?" You said, waving your hand in front of him, "Earth to The great King Park Jongsoeng."

Your voice seemed to break Jay out of his temporary trance, as he quickly blinked his eyes and popped his lips together. "We should go." He said, much to your relief.

"Hey wait a second." You stopped him from exiting. Your fingers went up to his hair and quickly ruffled it, making it look messy and unruly

"There." You presented proudly, "now you look like a true town person."

Something in Jay told him that this day would go in a second as all good days went.

Jay had never before gone on his monthly undercover trip to the town, accompanied by anyone else. He feared it would blow his cover to the people. The trip always benefited him, he would get some delicious food, a day without guards, a day with peace, and a free survey of the citizens' wellbeing.

Today was different. He had no interest in looking at the wellbeing of the people, nor on the food. All he cared about was you.

You, with your head held high, easily chatting up the store owners, bargaining for the price of powdered dragon scales and smiling wide at the tiny child who had run up to you and have you a tiny sunflower blossom.

His heart was weak, fragile around you, it contained lovesick blood which he hadn't ever held before. Your hearty laughter, your hair moving in harmony with you and the contagious joy you spread to the people in the bustling market, it made Jay's knees buckle.

"Jongsoeng come on!" You cried, walking perhaps fifteen steps ahead of Jay. He had to jog to keep up. You were calling him by his actual name, since most people outside of royalty didn't know his real name.

"Did you get everything?" Jay panted, peering into your full basket. You nodded.

"Yep! I even got the cilantro you like chewing so much like a cow." You giggled, holding up a few leaves to his mouth, "Say ahh" you teased him as if you were feeding a child.

"Ahhh" Jay opened up his mouth and pushed the cilantro into his mouth, much to your surprise. You flinched slightly at his cold touch.

"Delicious." Jay smacked his lips together dramatically, "Anyways shall we get going?"

"Please don't tell me we're going to some shoe shop, I detest the smell of leather." You groaned, earning a look from Jay.

"That is by far the weirdest thing I've ever heard." Jay chuckled, "And we're going to the best seamstress of this kingdom darling, so keep your socks on."

Your heart fluttered uncontrollably at his nickname.

"Ah my King. Welcome!" A well dressed woman, with her hair tied into a fishtail greeted Jay and you. You assumed she was the Chaeryoung from "Chaeryoung's Seams", signboard outside which indicated her grand castle of a shop. This, according to Jay, was where all the aristocrats obtained their clothes.

"Chaeryoung, I assume you are well?" Jay pressed a kiss to her hand, a custom for most unmarried men, but delivering a pang of jealousy to your heart.

"I do not care about my wellbeing right now, Your Majesty. All I care about-" she shifted her pretty, cat-like eyes to you, "-is this beauty standing before me."

You felt your cheeks heat up at Chaeryoung's complement. You? A beauty? Impossible it seemed, especially next to a pretty woman like Chaeryoung.

"I am Y/N." You curtsied, "You are quite gorgeous yourself, Miss Chaeryoung."

Chaeryoung let out a giggle and blushed red in her ears, turning to Jay. "You found someone quite like yourself, Your Majesty."

"Oh please." You scoffed playfully, "I am much more handsome than him, don't you think?"

To Jay, that was more of a complement than an insult, especially when it came from your mouth.

You stayed in Chaeryoung's shop until the sky darkened. She wouldn't let you go until you tried on every combination she asked you to.

Jay was quite useful in this, you thought, giving Chaeryoung recommendations on necklines and earings and whatnot.

A memory which stayed particularly on your mind, was when you stepped out in a beautiful dress, which hugged your body perfectly, with a neckline that could send any man to heaven if he looked at it.

Any man meant Jay too, who thought he would combust if he saw you on any more dresses. He swore he could have seen pixies sparkling their magic dust over you.

"How does this look?" You stood in front of Jay with a big smile on your face.

"Spin for me." Jay said, standing up, to assess the dress more properly, as you spun, the fabric seemingly obeying your every command and spinning with you like a Scottish Fold's tail. Could you get any prettier?

"I swear to god if you don't get this dress, I will open my bandages." Jay said dramatically, much to Chaeryoung's pleasure who nodded and rushed out of the room, to get your measurements.

"Do I look good?" You asked again, a bit uncertainly this time.

"Good?" Jay scoffed, "You look like the prettiest person on earth."

"You sure know how to make a girl blush, are you sure you haven't had practice?" You giggled, spinning one more time in the dress to admire yourself. You loved the way the fabric felt against your skin, it hugged it in a way that all your scars didn't hurt too much. A perfect dress, you thought.

Perfect. Until you looked down at your collarbone.

Fate has its ways, dear reader. And it has many ways for misfortune.

"Oh no-no no no." You swore under your breath. Well that is, if you were even breathing. You were panicking, and panic attacks weren't exactly cotton candy flavoured for you. You could feel your throat tighten up and your peripheral vision blend out.

You felt cold all around, you felt the harsh words of little girls and the screams of your parents. You felt Jooyeon too....

"Hey hey Y/N, calm down." You could hear Jay's voice faintly behind you, but you couldn't bring yourself to focus on anything.

Jay was worried, extremely worried. He hadn't ever seen you panic like this before. Sure you had a few stressful mishaps in the infirmary, but this? Never before. Jay was confused as to why you were currently supporting your entire weight on him but he took one look down at your collarbone and he knew.

"Y/N, darling, I need you to breathe for me." Jay whispered in your ear, unsure of what to do. His hands trailed down to your waist, while one supported your shoulder.

"Shh, I'm right here, I'm right here calm down." Jay coached you, tracing shapes along your neck, which worked effectively.

"I-" you kept your sob in your throat, "I need something to c-cover..."

You felt a warm sort of cloth wrap around your shouder, Jay's jacket.

"Calm down now." Jay whispered again, hearing faint footsteps in the distance, "I'll distract Chaeryoung, you run."

"Your bandages aren't bleeding much, I think they're healed.." You clicked your tongue, pressing against Jay's wounds.

"You sound worried though, darling." Jay said, his eyes never leaving you even as you got up and settled your supplies down.

"You know I won't ever stop worrying about you." You chuckled, sitting opposite him on the bed, with two cups of chamomile. Drinking tea with Jay at night seemed to relax your nerves.

"So..."

"So?"

"Would you like to talk about what happened?"

You bit your lip at his question, savouring the taste of the chamomile for a while.

"Would you really like to know?" You sighed, putting your tea down, "You've been curious over it for a lot of days."

"I would like to know whether you want Jooyeon killed or tortured." Jay calmly sipped his tea.

Jooyeon.

How did he know?!

"How-" you raised your eyes to him, "Do you know about Jooyeon?"

"I'm a King, darling." Jay chuckled, his eyes seemed more dangerous than ever, "I know everything."

"If you knew everything, then why did you ask me?" You said, your tone laced with venom.

Jay's eyes softened. "I know who he is but I don't know what he did to you, darling." He toyed with his empty cup, "and I wanted to know why you hide that scar."

"Because it's ugly!" You cried out, slamming your teacup onto the table next to you, you were surprised it didn't break, "Because everyone I've ever met in my life recoils from it whenever they see it and for some fucking reason you didn't and it's just so weird!"

The air stilled again in that familiar manner, and flashes of memories came into Jay's mind.

'Mum why do you hide your shoulder?'

'its not as beautiful as the rest of me, Jay. Why do you ask?'

'You're still pretty to me mum!'

Your memories on the other hand, were entirely different.

The sound of glass....

The smell of blood....

Jooyeon's grip on your thigh.....

"Y/N, love-"

"I'm sorry, I-I shouldn't have-"

Jay's hand buried you into his chest, as your sob ripped through the air like a siren. He could feel his shirt become damp but he didn't give a single damn. All he cared about was how you were practically shaking apart in his arms.

Your shattered words of 'Im sorry!' broke his heart into tatters and he felt like he was 13 again, listening to his mother son and him not being able to do anything.

Except this time, he could.

In the quiet moments of vulnerability, you shared your fear with him, trusting him with your deepest secrets. And as Jay held you in his arms, he realized that he had become your safe haven, and his love for you blossomed in that tender embrace.

"Y/N, love, look at me?" Jay tilted your head up to him, grabbing your chin with his finger. Your tear stained eyes looked up at him with nothing but calm trust. You did trust him. And love him too.

As your eyes met, a sense of familiarity washed over you. It was as if your souls had known each other in a different time and place. In that profound connection, you realized that the fates had pulled their strings again love unfurled within you.

"I-I want to-"

"Do it."

That's all Jay needed, for him to crash into you and create a magnificent firework display, maybe only he could see all the sparkles and colours. Jay could taste sweet moonlight and honey on your lips. Blood rushed to his heart, which pumped it ever so fastly, it was about to explode out of his chest.

He craved this, he craved it as a battlefield craved blood or as a nightmare potion craved alkali. Ribbons of love and hope rushed out of his neck, where your arms wrapped, sinking into him, with pure trust and love.

Was this the love the poets spoke of?

Maybe not, Jay thought, but he didn't care anymore. This was the love he now wanted, he never wanted to let go of it.

Perhaps he never would.

Silence fell like darkness, as you pulled away slowly, still keeping your eyes close for a second. You couldn't believe what on earth had just happened. Jay couldn't either.

“That felt like a crime against humanity.” you broke the silence, with your serious statement.

The seriousness didn't last long, when Jay looked into your eyes, you looked into his, and the both of you burst out laughing.

"Was that your first kiss?" Jay teased, his fingers were threading through your hair, relaxing you.

"Yours too?" You retorted.

Amidst the moonlight, no one would have suspected that a healer and a king would be laughing raucously, looking at each other with nothing but love, something they never experienced before.

“I mean, I could do with some more of that.” you said shyly, feeling a blush creep up to your face.

"Why don't we then, darling?"

Next chapter coming soon!

Tags: @amazzwon @heeseungshim @kvmariii @mwahvvis @hottiewifeyyyy @sacrificeatmeup @perfectnighttt @yawnzzhoon @yunabi436 + send an ask to be tagged!

[exquisink]

Come What May (Suguru Geto/F! Non Sorcerer Reader)

AO3

Word Count: 6.7K

CW // cunnilingus, penis in vagina sex, geto being a pining mess, mc being oblivious

Dark, sinister storm clouds rolled over the sky; the distant sound of thunder rattling your bones as you approached Star Religious Group’s temple. Its reign as high and mighty as the local legend foretold.

For the past few months, you encountered a strange phenomenon. Millions of eyes staring at you wherever you went. Invisible hands roaming all over your body. Moments where you couldn’t breathe—almost like you didn’t know how to anymore.

A local suggested a visit at this temple. Suguru Geto, the organization’s leader, successfully exorcised clients in the past. Many considered his gift to be one from God.

Somehow, you weren’t so sure. It seemed more like a curse to see things others couldn’t. A curse to carry a burden like that alone. To see demons. To see the worst in humanity…

You exhaled slowly. This could either be the smartest or stupidest decision ever. That would only be determined when you met the man in question.

You decided to take a leap of faith, entering the exorcism room when someone allowed you inside. You waited, bouncing your leg as the anticipation began to kill you inside a little bit.

Finally, Geto entered the room, slipping past you as if you didn’t even exist in the same area as him, stepping onto the raised platform before taking a seat.

You froze, your heart skipping a beat. Guess all of those rumors were true: he was the handsome devil. With a charming smile and long, luscious locks of thick black hair cascading down his back. And so tall. You noticed some areas of his hair had been braided, likely by his adopted twins you heard rumors about from locals as well. He clearly took pride in his appearance, using it to gain more followers to his absurd cause.

With a face card like that? You couldn’t blame the guy.

A part of yourself imagined nasty scenarios already.

“So what brings you here today?” That charming smile of his, while inviting at first, began to feel more strained and plastic under your gaze. You ignored the uncertainty pricking at your insides like pins and needles. “Haunted, are we?”

“Y-yes,” you began, twiddling your fingers in a vain attempt to soothe your nerves. “I haven’t been able to shake it off. Whatever it is—!”

He raised a hand, signaling you to silence your babbling. You obeyed, a bead of sweat dripping down your brow, no questions asked. He studied you, his smile melding into a frown.

“Try not to move,” he instructed in a bored tone as his hand struck out.

Within milliseconds, the weight on your shoulders lifted, and you gawked at him. He looked like he grasped something in his hand.

“Wow,” you breathed, feeling a wave of relief wash over you.

The sky split with a deadening crack, followed by a loud clap of thunder.

He chuckled as you jumped in your spot.

“Feel free to stay until the storm goes away,” he stated, “The temple is off the clock now.”

You quirked an eyebrow. From what you’ve heard, he rarely allowed clients to overstay their welcome. Once his business with you was done, he didn’t have much need for your presence. Yet he allowed you to remain.

“Thank you,” you replied, allowing yourself to get comfortable on that pile of red cushions. Your hands took note of how smooth and soft the fabric was.

“Ah, forgive my lack of manners. I didn’t get your name.”

You peered at him with curious eyes.

You told him.

“A pleasure,” he responded, his eyes prying open and revealing stunning pools of violet, gazing upon you like he was king, and you were a mere peasant. But something else flickered in his stunning gaze—intrigue. Why, pray tell? You hadn’t the slightest idea until he went on: “Those were some powerful spirits attached to you. I’m surprised you survived as long as you did with those aforementioned symptoms.”

Eh? But you didn’t mention anything to him. Not a single word of your symptoms.

How would he know? (Then again, he likely saw this millions of times before. It might not be so shocking of a revelation.)

Not soon into the proper introduction, a lady with bouncy pink wavy hair interrupted you, entering the room and alerting Geto of a matter of, to him, minimal importance. He excused himself for a few moments, brushing past you with an unreadable expression on his face.

With your own curiosity getting the best of you, you zeroed in on as much on the matter as you could.

Your eyebrows scrunched together as you could make out a bit of the hushed conversation between the secretary and Geto. His voice had an edge to it as he spoke, like a blade, muttering some monologue to her about how he’d been exorcising “monkeys” for the entire day but this particular one—of course he meant you—decided to stay behind until the storm outside died down. Surprise etched across the secretary’s face from his sudden hospitality, but Geto dismissed her, and slid the door shut behind him before turning his attention back on you.

That look in his eyes came back. Not of disdain necessarily, but of curiosity. Like he sensed something unique about you and wished to covet it for himself.

Should you whack the wasp’s nest?

You cleared your throat, twisting around as he returned to his raised platform to settle back down.

“What inspired you to do what you do?” you inquired. You bit your lip as he only stared at you, perhaps annoyed.

“It’s a natural talent of mine, to purify that which is impure,” came his simple answer. “If you are referring to my otherworldly beliefs, that is a matter personal to me, and nothing someone like you could understand.”

“That’s a bold claim,” you quipped, offended. “But you do have a point, I guess. Not everyone is so open to such…ideals.”

He didn’t respond for a moment, only hummed in contempt.

“Of course I have a point,” he replied, “There is always a purpose in everything I ever do, say, or think. Other humans…such monkeys, they’re just running a circus out there.”

Well, you thought. Not like he’s wrong about that.

You shared some of his disdain for society (definitely not for the same reasons). Part of why you moved far away from home and came to Japan. You hoped to leave it behind, and maybe lead a more fulfilling role. You didn’t have much to go on other than pure ambition. You wanted to channel it somewhere.

And somehow, something compelled you to explore your potential in this realm. Something bigger than yourself.

Suguru Geto didn’t seem to mind the temporary babysitting of some ‘lowly monkey’. Was he lonely? Got fed up with his mindless legion of followers? Perhaps he missed challenging conversations? Or if not challenging, at least engaging ones?

Perhaps he just needed a friend. Though you doubted he’d see you as anything other than a speck of dirt.

You ended the silence that fell around you both for a minute too long. Never mind the storm brewing outside.

Pitter patter. Pitter patter.

CRACK!

“You seem to hold quite a bit of contempt for humanity,” you observed, tilting your head while locking your eyes with his steely violet gaze, assessing him. Reading him with an open mind, and like an open scroll, and not at all fazed by him equating humanity to monkeys, which given the theories of evolution, you couldn’t even call his belief entirely false. “I can’t say I blame you. Humanity has been responsible for all of society’s shortcomings.”

Geto raised an eyebrow at that statement, as he hummed in amusement. Your lips pursed. Perhaps he believed you, like him, became disillusioned to society.

“Do you now?” he sighed, resting his chin on his hand. “Do you dare to insinuate that we share the same belief? That humanity cannot be saved?”

And better eradicated? Wiped out? Not necessarily, you mused to yourself, but dared not utter those musings out loud. You didn’t want to risk death.

Yet here you still were… whacking the wasp’s nest for the sheer fun of it. Because you wanted to see how far this could go.

Because you desired a bit of brain stimulation.

Because maybe you sought some kind of companionship, too—in whatever form that may come. You were lonely too. That was part of why you came here.

A fresh, new start. A fulfilling purpose. Something to keep you on your toes. A reason to keep going.

“On some levels,” you conceded, remaining seated on those plush red cushions while picking at the dirt between your nails. Suguru Geto—the notorious leader of the Star Religious Cult—whose reputation preceded him. You showed indifference, which got under his skin. Maybe because you wanted to see what he would do in a position where someone beneath him further enabled his cause, but not in the way his mouth-breather followers had.

Your gaze never left his, cold, scrutinizing. “Perhaps your grand scheme could use some refinement, though. I’ve heard much of what you preach. Through your sermons. Through the locals here. The mass extinction of humanity is ultimately futile.”

“Then what do you propose?” he countered, irritation laden in his tone. You were impressed he didn’t slaughter you on the spot for questioning his grand scheme; instead, he seemed fascinated, intrigued—a little spark in those stunning pools of amethyst.

“Rather than extinction,” you began, shifting in your seat. “Which will ultimately fail due to the population of weak humans to the strong, by the way. Revolution. That is more effective. Advocate to cleanse the filth in a way where the chosen ones you claim to wish to protect can co-exist with their lesser human counterparts. After all, who is to say you even need to acknowledge them?”

His expression didn’t budge, driven by a hunger to dissect your thoughts further.

You humored him. He humored you, after all.

Why not even the playing field?

“Is it really so simple?” he scoffed at the absurdity of your suggestion. “How do you propose we do that?”

Now you were getting somewhere! All you had to do was lay a few more of your cards on the table.

But not so soon!

A smirk played at your lips. “Are you suggesting a partnership, Geto? My…suggestions don’t come for free.”

Geto rose from his spot on the raised platform. He stepped down, approaching you in a few long strides. He gazed down at you, still not with the same contempt which he possessed for the rest of humanity, but with fascination.

Every nerve in your body sparked to life, pulsing with anticipation and the heady rush from it all. Challenging a powerful, ‘magical’ being? You might have had a death wish.

No, you definitely had a death wish.

You just didn’t find yourself minding that about yourself anymore.

“What do you want?”

“Some cash is nice, since I’ll need a stream of income, but not just that,” you replied, tone wavering. “Make me strong. Make me your partner. And in return, I guarantee your success in making the world the way you want, Geto.”

Silence hung over the two of you once more. He tilted his head, resting it against his long, slender fingers, his lips pressed into a thin line. Was he genuinely considering a new recruit to his cause? Did he sense something in you that you didn’t even see?

After what felt like a lifetime, he finalized the deal.

“Suguru,” he corrected quickly. “Partner.”

Your smirk widened, impressed with his willingness to cooperate and to humor you; your eyes twinkling, and he matched yours.

Ah. He played right into your grimy, scheming hands, just as you hoped. It spared you on the spot slaughter. Or maybe you fell face first into his trap, caught by the leg, and now you would pay the price for trusting his word so openly.

Aw, what the hell? You needed a little spice in your life, and you held little regard for your past way of life some time ago. Maybe you wanted to seek salvation. Maybe you just wanted to live a little—see if you could breathe some life into your dying heart.

Suguru Geto hired you as a strategist in his family—a decision which drew contempt from everyone in this temple. Unsurprising, given Geto’s infamous reputation and the nature of his ambitions. But the disapproval didn’t faze or deter you. You saw the opportunity for what it was: lucrative, and with handsome payment. For as long as the arrangement was mutually beneficial, you had no issue working alongside the notorious leader of the Star Religious Group.

Though others bristled at your presence, Geto seemed unbothered. He remained immeasurably close at your side, neither ahead of you nor trailing behind. Always there, like a damn leech. You ignored the glares or whispers which followed the two of you, because frankly, you didn’t care.

At first, you chalked it up to formality or perhaps an attempt to display some kind of begrudging respect toward you. But that conclusion didn’t sit quite right in your gut. You knew his kind—his worldviews didn’t leave room for genuine equality, especially between someone like him, and someone like you. You doubted he would ever truly view someone like you as an equal.

Yet none of his actions got past you. Always watching, always waiting. It wasn’t always obvious of course, and anyone else might have missed it, but you definitely noticed. His gaze lingered on you, often longer than it did on others. He didn’t seem as appalled by touching you like he did his other followers who were human. He observed your every move, fascinated by how you remained untouched by the animosity aimed at you. Not only did your indifference intrigue him, but it was also likely the cold calculation behind your eyes, how you seemed to operate purely on logic and reason—a trait he found lacking in other humans. Which, truthfully, he wasn’t wrong. You, too, found most people infuriatingly devoid of reason.

Whatever. You had better things to do than to ponder on something like what else Suguru Geto could possibly want from you. You focused on the task at hand, and you weren’t about to allow idle conjecture to distract you from it. If he threw challenges your way, you would strategize your way through them alongside him.

Yet, you still caught moments where his lingering stares felt like they had no place. You couldn’t pinpoint why and dismissed it as nothing more than curiosity.

He saw value in your insights; that was all it was. Nothing more, nothing less.

During your one-on-one meetings, Geto gave you a high-level overview of his world—the world of jujutsu, cursed spirits and how they came into existence. From negative human emotions. If you had to be honest with yourself, it all sounded like total bullshit. Well, until Geto handed you a tool imbued with cursed energy for you to see spirits yourself. The moment you wore those glasses, the sight of those spirits roaming around him left you speechless. He casually explained his cursed technique to you; he had the ability to manipulate the spirits he exorcised to his advantage.

It took about a month or so into your new way of life before he began to drop a few more bombs about himself and his past. To your surprise, you felt indifferent toward the countless unforgivable crimes he’d committed for his cause. In a strange way, you even found his devotion… admirable.

Most people were afraid of going after what they wanted. You weren’t one of them. Perhaps that was why he found comfort in your presence.

More months passed. You learned more about jujutsu sorcery and curses—and more about Geto. Often, against your will, but he seemed oddly open with you. You didn’t care one way or another. As long as he found use in your insights and your ‘refreshingly’ open mind, you would remain.

Over time, you found yourself becoming more loyal to him.

He definitely seemed pleased by the development.

During one of your debriefs, Geto shifted from his usual ramblings to engage you in a philosophical debate. You humored him, of course. You weren’t in a position to dismiss the chance to learn more about his grand plan. He spoke of creating more conflict between sorcerers and non-sorcerers, of going directly to the source of the problem.

“Humanity as a collective is perplexing,” Geto began, meeting your eyes. “Humans try so hard to be as boring as everyone else yet also condemn those who want to remain the same. They also punish those who succeed and crush those who dare to be different, who dare to challenge society. Whether they show a speck of talent or something extraordinary like us sorcerers…well, like me, not you. Humans would rather cram everyone and everything into that same miserable, broken little box. Why do you believe this is the case?”

You nodded, sharing his disdain. Even if to him, in spite of your intellect, you were just another one of those monkeys.

“It’s simple yet complex. Humans cling to what’s familiar. Whatever threatens that familiarity becomes a target.”

What was that old concept? The Uncanny Valley—where people got creeped out by something that appeared human, but somehow wasn’t. In a way, Geto definitely embodied this concept—human by birth, perhaps, but gifted with abilities far beyond the average mind’s comprehension.

However, you weren’t an average human mind, either. He had come to accept someone on his level—your non-sorcerer status aside.

“Exactly,” he replied in a whisper, as a lazy smirk graced his features. “So why bother playing their little game? Utterly asinine, is it not? We sorcerers in jujutsu society were sworn to protect humanity, yet they show no gratitude for the blood, sweat, and tears we shed, or the lives we lost. In fact, often, we were shunned for it. Ostracized. My twin girls were about to be killed for actions they were not responsible for simply because they possessed a gift, not a curse. Do you understand where I’m coming from?”

“It’s completely understandable you feel that way,” you replied, keeping an even tone. Had you been in a similar position, you would probably arrive to the same conclusions Geto had—should you blame the man? Honestly, you still found him admirable in spite of the havoc he wreaked upon both jujutsu society and humanity. “However, your methods in changing the status quo are obviously questionable. Ultimately fruitless. But the longer I’m with you, the more I wonder if you are aware of this.”

“I am,” he answered without skipping a beat. You quirked an eyebrow at that; you didn’t miss how much more open he became with you, and this was one of those moments where that became more apparent. Not only in how he engaged with you in these discussions, but with how much touchier he became around you. You weren’t sure if you could call it endearing given the kind of person he was, but it was close enough. “Let me let you in on a little secret.”

He leaned in, so close that your breaths mingled. You held your breath.

“I never intended on this plan to succeed.”

Huh? That came out of left field. Your pulse accelerated, struggling to steady your gaze with his, unwilling to let him see the ripple of shock his confession rushed through you.

You averted your eyes, hand over your racing heart.

“So you know you’re going to accomplish nothing.”

So then why hire you in the first place?

“Indeed,” he responded, pulling back, his intense violet gaze never leaving yours. Not only did you find Geto a bit insane, you also found him fascinating. He drew you in like a moth to a flame. “The Night Parade of 100 Demons is merely my stage exit.”

“So,” you cleared your throat, prepared to face certain death at your next line. You were surprised you lasted as long as you had here. “All of this time, all of these acts of extremism were a cry for help?”

Geto’s chuckle came soft, almost…sullen. The vibrant purple in his eyes dulled.

“You could put it in that way,” he sighed, brushing his fingers through his hair. “But no. I don’t wish to be saved. Not in the way you think.”

For the moment, you saw past his sharp words—the exhaustion, soullessness evident in his eyes, the flicker of something buried deep inside of him. Years of torment and confusion simmering just beneath the surface. You hadn’t realized how vulnerable he allowed himself to be around you.

He didn’t see you as a threat, after all, did he?

“I see.” Something about this tugged at your heartstrings in a way you didn’t fully fathom, but…your fascination for Geto seemed to have evolved into something beyond it. You became loyal to him over the course of your ‘partnership.’ He showed you sides to him he never showed even to his most devout followers or to his ‘family.’ Not even his twin girls, who you met on several occasions.

Your face went bleak. Had he been searching for a way out of here all of this time—out with a bang, perhaps? Much like you have if you couldn’t find a real purpose to your life anymore? Had that been…all along, had that been why he went to such extremes? Did he want to see reform? Much of his past had been slowly revealed to you these past few months working under his organization as his strategist.

“Something troubling you, my dear?” His question snagged you back to reality, and when you met his eyes, shining with concern, your heart fluttered. His hand brushed against your cheek, warm, sizzling. Your eyes widened as you pulled back. The action caught you off-guard. Even the term of endearment. But to top it all off, it was the look in his eyes that knocked your soul out of your body.

Unshielded, raw.

You’d never seen him like this before. Or maybe you had and blocked it from memory, deeming it as nothing more than curiosity, intrigue.

This relationship was professional. Nothing more, nothing less.

“You’re conflicted,” you realized, voice hoarse, a lump forming in your throat. “Aren’t you?”

The silence that followed your question was deafening. Then, after what felt like an eternity, Geto hummed in response, his gaze softening as he twirled a strand of his hair around his finger. You stiffened at his touch, but didn’t pull away this time.

The bags under his eyes peeked through. His lips curled into that trademark dangerous smile of his. By now you would have thought you had been desensitized to his dramatic antics, but this proved otherwise.

“Perhaps,” he mused, his voice a lower octave, “not all of you monkeys are ignorant fools.”

You blinked, not in surprise by the insult—he openly called humans that countless times before—but by the warmth in his words. Your gaze flitted to the long, slender finger of his twirling your hair, tugging gently as if testing the waters.

You hadn’t even noticed how close he had gotten.

“Suguru?” you inquired, your voice softer than intended, eyes half-lidded as you fixated on the way his fingers fiddled with your hair. His touch gentle, light, delicate.

“Yes, my dear?” he purred, voice like velvet—smooth, dangerous.

That term of endearment again, laden with something heavier.

That finger traced a slow path down your arm, grazing your skin, making you tingle. His hand shifted when he reached your elbow, fingers wrapped around it with a gentleness that bordered on tenderness. Your heart skipped a beat; your mind grappled with trying to understand this sudden shift.

This felt too intimate in business between colleagues, if you dared to even call yourself that.

The softness in his touch was undeniable.

Lonely. He was lonely. The word slipped into your thoughts. You wondered if this was all it was about. Loneliness. Isolation. An emptiness he refused to admit to, seeking solace in someone who was—and this was mere conjecture on your part—much like his unrealized self.

“Is this appropriate?” you questioned, your voice a little strained.

The corner of his mouth curled, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he leaned in closer. So close that his minty breath ghosted over your lips, warm and dangerously inviting.

“Do you wish for it to be?” he countered, his voice barely above a whisper—an invitation if anything else. His thumb began to draw slow, idle patterns on your arm.

You swallowed on a thick wad of nothing. A loaded question, indeed.

But did you actually want this? You hadn’t considered the possibility before.

“Do I have a say on the matter, sir?”

His expression darkened, eyes narrowing into slits as he tightened his grip on your arm.

“Suguru,” he corrected you. He never did want you to call him anything else.

Now you have found out why. Now you have found out why he let you in so easily. It had been right in front of you all along. You just elected to ignore the signs in favor of a decent living.

“Suguru,” you affirmed, his name sounding more intimate for some reason. You continued to ignore his still thumb tracing idle patterns on your arm. “Do I?”

His violet eyes bore into yours, observing, assessing, waiting, like always. His lips hovered dangerously close to yours, almost brushing against each other, a fleeting kiss. More of one if you dared to close the distance.

“Maybe, maybe not,” he answered with a non-committal hum. His hand moved from your elbow to your wrist, gripping tight. “But do you know what you want?”

Your breath hitched.

His grip tightened on your wrist, pulling you closer to his orbit. It wasn’t just about what you had to say. It was about control too. His control.

You could push him away, reassert your own agency, reminding him that what you had was nothing more than a professional relationship.

But then his free hand cupped your face, his touch gentle, tender, making you hesitate.

“Suguru…” you breathed, his name feeling more intimate on your lips than before. The distance between you closed even further, and you found yourself unable to resist the magnetic pull.

“Tell me what you want, my dear.”

That wasn’t fair! That absolutely wasn’t fair. He knew it wasn’t. It didn’t stop the tidal wave of emotions washing over you. The walls you worked so hard to build around your heart and mind began to tumble down.

You should know better.

“I—!” The words caught in your throat as you caught the weight of his gaze. Before you could properly answer, the final sliver of distance between you closed as Geto leaned further in.

His lips met yours in a frantic rhythm. Desperate, yet measured—a push and pull of fervor and restraint. His tongue slid past your parted lips, coaxing a soft sigh from deep within your throat. You allowed yourself to melt into the moment, not caring to resist the magnetic pull between you.

The transition from the temple’s meeting room to his bedroom went by in a blur. You weren’t sure how or when you’d been led here, but the warmth of his arms around your waist kept you grounded in the present. His room at the temple’s top floor seemed worlds away, that faint scent of sandalwood and smoke lingering in the air. You allowed yourself to indulge in this. You never allowed yourself such luxuries before, believing you to be above them, but truthfully, they weren’t. You desired connection just as much as anyone else—you just threw yourself into work to ignore the fact that you did.

Was that yet another reason he found comfort in you?

Soon, you found yourself lying on his bed, the cool silk sheets beneath you a start contrast to the heat building up in your core. He trailed open-mouth kisses down your jawline and along the curve of your neck. Each kiss awakened something in you—eliciting a sharp breath out of your lips as his teeth grazed your skin.

Your lips met his again, slower this time, more languid as his hands freely explored your body. The pads of his fingers traced the outline of your hips, feathery light and teasing, before they settled at the waistband of your skirt. He tugged it down in a smooth motion, the fabric sliding easily down your legs.

His calloused hands felt rough yet reverent against your bare skin. They rested on your thighs, spreading them apart with effortless authority. Your breath hitched, the anticipation coiling tightly in your body. You squeezed your eyes shut as his breath ghosted over the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

His lips followed the same path as his hands, brushing feathery light kisses up your thighs—closer and closer. Another breathy gasp escaped you when his teeth caught the delicate fabric of your panties, ripping it through the middle.

“Suguru!” you shrieked, your voice breaking, more from shock. Instinctively your hands flew to your mouth, muffling the embarrassed cry as heat rushed to your cheeks.

He glanced up at you with a smirk, dark violet eyes gleaming with amusement.

“What is it?” he purred, feigning ignorance but he knew exactly the effect that had on you, as his tongue licked a line between your slick folds.

Another broken whimper escaped your throat, the sensation so intense it had you squirming beneath him. Your hips instinctively shifting closer to his face, chasing the friction. Every inch of your body awakened—hyper-aware of each flick of his tongue, each graze of his teeth or lips.

“Mean,” you chided between gasping breaths, but it was all you could muster.

He chuckled, the sound vibrating through your core.

“I haven’t been close to mean yet, my dear.”

Without another warning, his tongue returned to lapping at your folds, twirling around your little nub full of nerves. Every flick and swirl against your swollen nub made you keen. You gripped the sheets tighter, knuckles whitening as you arched into him, back bowing. It was unbearable. Now you were completely at his mercy—helpless yet utterly complacent.

Instinctively, your hips pressed against him, chasing after that friction you craved; every nerve ending singing like a choir with need. You lost yourself in him, in the moment, chasing your release until finally, you found it. The crescendo hit you like a tidal wave, knocking the wind out of your body as your orgasm washed over you. You were left trembling and panting, catching your breath as you came down from the high.

“You look beautiful when you let go,” Suguru murmured, his voice reverent, as he lifted his head to watch you.

Something caught in your throat at that statement. He said it like it was the truth. Could you allow yourself to believe it? Could you believe anything he ever said, when you never knew what his motives were even now? Months working for him? A part of you to believe it, craved the affirmation, yet those shadows of doubt lingered. Could someone like you let yourself fall for his sweet nothings? You weren’t immune to the lies people told in moments like this, when you desired intimacy and connectedness as much as anyone else.

Fulfilling intimacy.

The sound of him rummaging around ripped you out of your thoughts, yanking you back to the present. His words were no longer tender, but matter-of-fact, as if what came next was inevitable.

“However,” he began, his voice a little more stern now. “you need a bit more preparation before you could take my size.”

Your mouth dried at the prospect. He said it so casually.

“S-Suguru?” your voice quivered, barely a whisper.

More fumbling, the distinct sound of him searching through the drawer beside the bed. Your heart pounded erratically. Then he pulled out the bottle of lube, setting it aside for a moment.

Ah. Proper lubricant. How considerate.

“Before that,” he went on, his voice a low purr, as if reading your thoughts. “How about one more before the main event?”

You barely had the time to process his words before his tongue was on you again, finding your clit. The tip of it circled around, teasing, making you gasp sharply as your hips bucked into his tongue involuntarily. You couldn’t stop yourself from grinding into his mouth, seeking that release once more.

“That’s it,” Suguru whispered between flicks of his tongue. “Get your release.”

And you did, your body trembling as another orgasm washed over your body. Everything almost too much to bear as your walls clenched around nothing, aching for more. You were panting now, legs quivering, but he was far from finished wth you.

You watched through half-lidded eyes as he squirted a liberal amount of lube onto his hand, the lewd squelching of its slick overwhelming you. His hands moved with purpose, massaging the cool liquid into your already sensitive cunt. The tip of his finger teased your entrance, allowing it to catch inside for a moment before retreating.

“Don’t be mean,” you pouted.

“I’ve been nothing of the sort,” he teased bac, his tone smug as he inserted a lubed finger into you. More lewd squelching making you flush. “Far from it.”

He moved inside you, at first slow, delicate, stretching you in the best ways possible with just that single digit. Another finger soon joined the first, the stretch almost too much, with that satisfying burn, but not quite. He was careful, gentle, but there was a hunger in his eyes. His pace gradually increased overtime, his fingers working to coax yet another orgasm from you for the sake of it.

The sensation was both too much and not enough. The heat pooling in your legs, your body responding to his every moment as though you were made for him. Before you knew it, you were coming again, your body trembling quietly as you cried out.

Suguru reluctantly withdrew his fingers, as if savoring the way your body clenched around them one last time. He wiped his hand on the sheets before standing, reaching for his belt and in one motion, disrobed.

When he revealed himself to you, your eyes widened and you gulped. He truly hadn’t exaggerated.

His cock stood erect, thick and heavy. Beads of pre already leaked out of his tip. Your breath hitched in your throat. He prepared you for this, made sure you were stretched and ready to take him, and yet, the prospect of it still made your gut twist.

“Is that thing going to fit?” The words slipped out of your mouth before you could catch them, your voice wavering. Suguru’s response was a deep, rich laugh that seemed to echo through the room, full of amusement.

“You’ll be fine,” he assured you, his tone teasing. As if to prove his point, he dipped the tip of his cock between your slick folds, rubbing it lightly against your entrance. The contact elicited a breathy whine from your lips that you couldn’t hold back.

“You aren’t going to wrap it?” you inquired, the incredulity in your tone impossible to miss. Despite the heat pooling in your lower abdomen, a surprising sliver of logic remained, true to your nature.

“Like a present?” Suguru chuckled again with a quirked eyebrow, shaking his head. “Do you know the pleasant thing about utilizing cursed energy?”

He clearly enjoyed your confusion. His eyes twinkled with mischief, a wicked smile playing at the corners of his lips.

“Not necessarily,” you admitted, “I’m no sorcerer. Even the basics are lost on me.”

He hummed in thought, his hand gliding over your thigh, fingers grazing over your skin, making it impossible to focus on anything else but the heat pooling between your legs.

“Let’s just say there are certain…perks to it.”

Huh? Perks? Did he mean…preventing pregnancy? Even with unprotected sex? At this point, you were willing to believe just about anything if it meant trusting him. And naively, a part of you did. You became fully lost in him.

Still, Suguru must have sensed your doubts. With a sigh that bordered on indulgent, he reached into the side drawer again and pulled out a condom.

“But if it’ll give you some peace of mind,” he went on with a smile as he tore the package open with his teeth and began to slide the condom onto his impressive length. “Then I will.”

He cared about making sure you felt safe…as long as it heighted the pleasure.

Once he wrapped himself, he guided the tip of his cock to your entrance. Your breath hitched again. He pushed himself in, and you gasped, your hands clutching the sheets tighter. Hist hick cock stretching you overwhelmed you—making your head spin.

“Relax,” he murmured. He inched more of his size into, inch by inch a gradual stretch that rubbed your walls in a delicious way. The friction of it unbearable. His dark eyes drank in every gasp and moan that slipped from your lips as he filled you up.

Soon, he was buried completely inside of you, his body flush against yours. His fullness inside of you was a sweet ache. He stilled for a moment, allowing you time to adjust, his hand trailing up your body until his fingers found the crook of your neck, brushing against your pulse point.

Pressing a soft kiss to your neck, he whispered, “You feel amazing.”

He moved. Slow at first, deliberate. He wanted you to feel every inch as he pulled out almost entirely only to piston himself back inside. He set a steady rhythm, the intensity of it gradual. Each thrust of his became deeper, purposeful, rubbing against your walls just right.

He groaned, whispering an endless slew of sweet nothings. Each word punctuated by the deep, rolling thrust of his hips. He angled himself a bit; the shift of his position just right.

The heat began to build inside of you again, coiling tight in your core, threatening to snap at any given moment. Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, knocking his nose between your breasts as you lost yourself in him, all of him. Inside of you, around you, filling you completely.

“Suguru…” His name fell from your lips in a broken moan, and that sent him over a dangerous edge. He thrust into you harder, sharper, deeper, his rhythm in perfect sync with your needs. Both of you were close, teetering on the edge together.

Finally, it crashed over the two of you.

Your orgasm washed over you, body trembling violently as you clenched around him. He followed close behind you, his thrusts growing erratic as he plunged himself inside you one last time, groaning your name as he found his own release.

For a moment, neither of you spoke nor moved. Both of you still breathing hard, still tangled in each other. The heady scent of sweat and sex filled the room. Slowly, Suguru pulled out with a satisfied sigh, his body still tented over yours as he leaned in to press a soft kiss to your forehead.

“I told you you’d be fine” he murmured, tip of his finger brushing along your cheek.

As the heat and passion of the moment faded, Suguru shifted to lay next to you and pulled you into a warm embrace.

You glanced up at him through your eyelashes. For a few more moments, neither of you said anything. The usual dullness in his eyes from exhaustion became a softer expression.

Here, he could just be Suguru Geto. Not a sorcerer, not a criminal. Just Suguru Geto.

A tired smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his voice a quiet murmur.

You nodded, your own lips curving up in response.

“More than okay,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

With a hum, Suguru snuggled you closer and pressed kisses into the nape of your neck.

For now, the raging world outside could wait, just for a bit longer. You allowed yourself to embrace the silence, your breaths and heartbeats syncing together, closing your eyes and drifting to blissful sleep.

[blackpilljesus]

Can we talk about how women are saying that they would smash the UHC ceo killer. Idc about the ceo. What alarms me is how quick women are to say that they would have sex with him. Violence is a sexual kink for them that explains the state of the world. They are intentionally ignoring the fact the the guy in the pictures looks different. I think they would sleep with him even if he wasn’t handsome. The behavior from both sexes the women swooning over him the men wishing that it was them instead. How positive the police force response was. These are the people that are “protecting the public” even they can’t help but fangirl over the violence. I bet they have the same feelings towards other cases they come across. Another reason to never mess with cops. The praise of male violence meanwhile women aren’t even allowed to self defend. My question is what do they benefit from this? Why are they acting like male killer + good execution = guaranteed pussy. Like what do you get out of sleeping with him? Is it proximity is this just women status seeking? Why does someone being a killer make you want to sleep with them I don’t understand it. The closest thing I can think of is your post the one about how their ideal man is tall with a bdsm sex dungeon. It’s like seeing male violence awoken something in them no wonder wars exists. I don’t have any issues with the guy I’m just using him as an example of a larger problem. the revolution is only acceptable and praise worthy when it comes in a certain package. The general public is so committed to upholding the current system. Nothing is going to change anytime soon. It’s either they find a substitute, make an example out of him and say they got the guy. (Which would be a wrongful conviction but we all know the justice system isn’t just.) or someone actually tells on him for the prize money. Either way things go back to normal the executives make the working class work even harder for celebrating.

I've seen a lot of gay moids thirst over him too. At first I thought they got the wrong guy but in certain angles they look similar, idk.

It's definitely weird tho, many women are masochists which explains a lot of your ask.

[connectionterminated13]

A Dead man who just needs a pack of cigarettes

Short little fan fiction I worked on in a couple minutes on Tumblr because I was bored BTW this takes place in my AU Inferno! Also please don't expect stellar writing quality this is mostly just a joke and for fun and I'm not doing the best editing on this (Fuck you Tumblr (The app) I'm going to write something tonight If it fucking kills me)

"You're telling me you're out"

Michael stared down the store clerk with what he could only describe as pure hatred. He was focusing every bit of rage and anger and general unhappiness from a miserable life at this man.

"I told you sir we sold out an hour ago.."

The bleary-eyed teenage boy behind the cast register of a convenience store somewhere in Arizona was not acknowledging the pure hatred that Michael was staring at him with. This made Michael even more mad

"Well Mr. I ran out of them an hour ago, I just saw some guy leave with a whole Fucking bag full!!"

This was a lie but Michael assumed if he got more threatening with his tone and maybe yelled a bit and made up this total this stupid probably high teenage boy would tell him where the goddamn cigarettes were!

The boy just blinked at him tired and boringly like he wasn't looking at an affront to God Screaming his face about cigarettes.

"LOOK KID I DON'T THINK YOU GET IT I NEED FUCKING CIGARETTES I AM GOING TO BE ON THE ROAD FOR THE NEXT OH SAY 8 HOURS, 8 HOURS IN THE DESERT, 8 HOURS WITHOUT A TASTE OF NICOTINE. WHICH I THINK IS TAUTAMOUNT TO TORTURE."

Michael was going to break something if this stupid boy didn't at least give him a reason why there was no cigarettes. Because Michael knew barely anyone passed through here so it was safe to assume that this stupid dumb future Hippie boy or Trailer truck Owner had stolen these also precious rations away from Michael as some elaborate plot against him!!

"I told you sir we're out someone bought up the last pack an hour ago if you wait till tomorrow they'll be more..."

The boy didn't even have the gall to look at him staring down at his stupid phone.. Disgusting absolutely disgusting.

"Do not know what I am boy?? I am not human I do not need what you need all I need is cigarettes AND IF YOU CAN'T GIVE THAT TO ME WELL I'LL JUST HAVE TO DRAG YOU TO HELL WITH ME!?"

Michael with much anger picked up a display of gum and threw it against the ground. The boy did slightly raise his eyebrows and let out a small "Damn"

"Are you going to pick that up?"

The boy looked down at the mesh Michael headmaid clearly thinking about how annoying it would be to clean up later.

"Not until you tell me where the cigarettes are.."

Michael said with the smuggist face his lack of lips and cheeks and general facial features would allow.

"Look sir... I get you think you're some kind of crypted supernatural entity but please trust me when I say we're out of cigarettes..."

The boy rubbed between his eyes clearly beginning to lose patience and by extension beginning to care about what Michael had to say.

"Okay let's believe you you have no cigarettes.. But do you really think I'm just putting on an act? no no this is what I am. You see a long time ago, I was like you human stupid handsome..."

Michael paused for a moment remembering his beautiful hair and his handsome untainted face... As for some reason the teenage boy continued to look bored and mildly distraught about the idea of cleaning up the gum Michael had spilled on the floor.

"Anyway up until my sister and her other insane clown robot friends ripped out my insides and used me as a human skin suit!! This went on for 2 months... Do you know what it feels like to be a human skin suit for 2 months???"

The boy just existed there for a moment before realizing it was a question in shaking his head.

"And you know what I survived!! Sure I'm dead and bruised and maybe a bit more crazy than I was before but I survived!!"

Michael punctuated the word survived By knocking over another display. This time it was for some kind of chocolate egg. For good measure Michael even stamped on some of the packaging as the boy with a giant sigh responded to michael.

"What does that have to do with cigarettes or your continued violence to our products sir?"

"WELL EVERYTHING OF COURSE!! BECAUSE IF YOU THINK AFTER ALL THAT I'D GIVE UP WHEN YOU SAY THERE AREN'T CIGARETTES WHEN THEY'RE CLEARLY ARE AND YOU'RE JUST HIDING THEM FROM ME, YOUR JUST AS INSANE AS PEOPLE CLAIM I AM!!!"

The boy seemed genuinely pissed off at this point which made Michael feel proud.

"Look Mr. Unholy Damon guy if I give you my Own cigarette Package will you just leave me alone??"

The boy slapped a box of cigarettes on the Cash register sliding them towards Michael. Michael looked down at them immediately noticing they weren't his brand of cigarettes but they would do.

"Thank you"

Michael took the cigarettes with a smile before walking out of the convenience store ignoring the fact the boy was flipping him off behind his back. Michael was still smiling when he opened the RV door and was face-to-face with Charlie.

"What did you break this time?"

Charlie said with a tired but unannoyed voice

"Just a couple of standies nothing to worry about..."

Michael said with Sing song voice voice lighting up a cigarette

[pomplalamoose]

can we get some hc’s for being dilf!lukes work wife pretty please 👀💗

a/n: for inclusivity's sake this is written for a gender neutral reader so everyone can enjoy <3

Hiiiii dear anon!!! Thank you so much for your request🩵

I'm not going to lie though, I found it somewhat difficult to think of Dilf!Luke with a work spouse due to his past and the way I generally like to imagine him to be.

But the concept really intrigues me and I have some ideas, so let's make some specific adjustments for this post to work:

• Dilf!Luke's first wife never died

• in fact he was never married to begin with

• his child is the result of a happy relationship which eventually ended in mutual agreement

• (otherwise he'd never allow himself to grow close to someone in a way like this)

• generally he's a slightly more positive version of himself, especially when compared to my other posts

On the other hand, here are some things that didn't change:

• he's always polite and hospitable, though keeps a distance between himself and everyone else

• a little bit intimidating with how he carries himself

• comes across as stern, though not as strongly as he does in my other posts

• even here I do not mention what kind of work it is he does, except that the two of you work together. I think it's fun to let everyone fill in the blanks with what they'd like best :)

• so imagine the first weeks at a new job: the new surroundings, hours, daily routines, tasks, co-workers...

• possibly you're one of the youngest among them as well and feel a little bit out of place, struggling to fit in among the already established relationships of your colleagues

• it's a lot and you find yourself wishing for someone to take you under their wing, even if it's just for the very beginning

• someone who looks out for you

• someone to have lunch with, to sit beside in meetings

• someone who takes time for you, to patiently answer any questions that might arise

• and maybe, if you're being honest, it's not just anybody you're hoping will do so

• handsome Mr. Skywalker, or Luke, as he introduces himself, works in the room just across the hall from yours, often brightening your surroundings simply by existing

• the most horrible day tends to change into a good one as soon as you catch a glimpse of his remarkable eyes or his private smile directed just at you

• a coincidental meeting by the coffee machine, on the stairs or in one of the many elevators is ways an event you think back to in the evening

• before you know it you're developing a major crush on him and, honestly, how could anyone not feel drawn to him?

• his looks

• his obvious kindness

• to the way he greets you by name when you clock in, his voice still a little bit rugged from sleep

• quickly it becomes your sole mission to catch his attention at least once a day, if even for the tiniest amount of time, just the smallest of interactions

• (you'd happily keep him company for hours on end if that's what he wanted but for now you'll take anything you can get)

• if only it weren't for a little problem

• (not to mention the rather obvious age difference)

• what you were already suspecting becomes a disappointing reality once you start to get more included by your other coworkers

• "he's generally well liked but sadly keeps to himself most of the time"

• "we already tried to get him out of his shell"

• "I see the way you look at him and believe me, many of us have been there.", a very nice elderly lady tells you

• "It's better to get him out of your head, my dear"

• "he's not one to seek out friendships or... other connections at work"

• and while you know they're probably right, that you should put your focus elsewhere, your thoughts can't seem to leave the mysterious older man alone

• like, you didn't even try!

• and so, more or less undeterred by your colleague's words, you make it a habit to include Luke into your work day

• after all there is no harm in being nice

• and no harm whatsoever in maybe flirting a little bit

• it does take him quite a while to warm up to you, though eventually, slowly, his careful kept distance wavers

• it starts without you realizing it at first but then, one morning, a steaming mug of your favorite tea/coffee sits on top of your desk to greet you

• (he's definitely a person to remember small things only mentioned in passing)

• maybe you don't connect the dots right away, still too tired to think properly

• and for a while you're confused, left to wonder; you can't even remember telling anyone about your favorite drink

• when you DO though and peek your head into his room to thank him, his response isn't more than a slightly amused expression that makes your stomach flutter

• sure this will have happened the first and only time, you try not to get your hopes up until small, colorful sticky notes appear in the files he returns to you

• they're often hidden, not to be spotted immediately, showing hand drawn smiley faces or fun little doodles

• and sometimes, when you're lucky, sweet messages written in Luke's familiar handwriting

• (those you treasure the most)

• suddenly, during lunch breaks, you often find yourself in the same spot in the park nearby (maybe intentionally so, maybe not) and end up spending them together

• during small talk that soon turns to more in depths conversations, you learn he likes to bake

• faced with your excitement it's not long after that he'd bring a batch of freshly made cookies with him just for you

• it'd definitely become a regular thing too, with him even trying out new recipes to ask your opinion and being super happy when you like them

• I think this is the point where, going forward, you'd only grow closer over time, eventually reaching that stage where it makes sense to call him your work husband

• he'd recommend books or movies to you, maybe music as well, that he thinks you'd enjoy and likes to hear about what you think he should try in return

• if you're currently learning a new language he'd memorize a few phrases to surprise you with simple greetings or compliments

• (alternatively he doesn't need to and would casually mention that he is in fact fluent, offering to practice with you)

• he'd like to surprise you with litte things to put on your desk

• maybe a fun plant, some cute organizers or, his favorite, completely obscure and very unnecessary trinkets he came upon on random that made him think of you

• on days that he knows will be particularly stressful, he brings in a few pretty flowers for you

• sometimes they're bought, sometimes he picks them on his way through the park, sometimes (very rarely), though he'd never admit to it in front of you, they're stolen out of someone's garden

• when you need a break he covers for you, no questions asked, seamlessly stepping into your role and everyone's way, keeping the others off your back

• during team celebrations, he ensures you get the best piece of cake or the best seat, or whatever it is you want at that moment

[baekhyunsbestie]

Lisa, I’m gonna throw up like… sorry for the upcoming vent, but I feel like you’re the best person to tell this 💟

I think I have realized there’s a big cold wall between me and men in general, whenever I go out and see irl men or I have to interact with them, I feel disgusted; then imagining having intimate relationship with them is making it even worse !!! Like, I’m so glad Exo men exist fr, but with irl men I don’t feel any kind of connection, not even for a simple conversation, nothing… again, sorry I’m just confessing to you like you’re a priest but yeah…

I don’t know what to do… being with a man simply doesn’t feel right, even if the Exos actually do something to me (thanks to you!), but I mean… irl men might be kind and stuff but I’m NOT interested, maybe it’s their look? If there was a handsome guy irl, would it change my mind? Idk 😭

Ahh it’s so hard I can’t even express myself well but I hope you get me a bit 🥲🥺 thank you, luv you, have a lovely day❣️

omg my baby!!!! plsplspls don’t apologize for venting, like ever. ur safe here, always. i totally get what u mean tho !! like genuinely, that disconnect ur feeling? ur not alone in it!!! there’s something so jarring about how different irl men can feel compared to the emotional depth, softness n fantasy of the way we connect to ppl like exo. it’s not silly or dramatic at aaalllllll it’s ur truth and it’s valid.

the whole “why do i feel nothing for real men but i melt for fictional ones” thing? soooo real. n honestly, maybe it’s not even about looks!! it might just be about energy, emotional safety, feeling seen and understood. sometimes we crave a type of connection that real life just isn’t delivering (yet) and that’s okay. ur allowed to feel outta sync w what people expect u to want

also… if being with a man doesn’t feel right deep in ur bones, then that feeling deserves to be honored, not questioned. u don’t need to force urself to fit into smth that’s not clicking for u. maybe ur just figuring out what kind of love, intimacy, or connection actually feels right!!!!!! and that’s a beautiful n brave thing!!!!!!

ur not weird. ur not broken. ur just exploring yourself in an honest way. and that’s powerful af!!!!

i’m proud of u for sharing this. i’m sending you so much love and softness today and always my lovie 🥹😚🫂💕💓💞💗💖💘🩷💞💓

[rabbitenn]

Hello! GakuXReader where reader is his friend who is sooooo tired of people assuming that they're in a relationship with Gaku and it's preventing them from actually getting into a relationship and think Gaku is just as bothered but Gaku actually likes them?

Your blog is so much fun!

MY PRECIOUS WORLD.

Maybe everyone’s rumors were just a prediction for the future.

ft. Yaotome Gaku x gn! reader.

cw/genre: romance, fluff, friends to lovers.

hello, nonnie ! thank you for your request <3 I’m glad you think my blog is fun :) I apologize for the long wait in completing this, I hope you still like it, dear. 🤍

— It started as something that happened occasionally, at cafes or restaurants; it didn’t surprise you anymore hearing “and what will the lovely couple order?”

— At first, you stumbled over your words to deny such statements, cheeks burning at the implications, especially worried they would bring baseless drama into your good friend’s life.

— Yaotome Gaku. The man you know like the back of your hand, on and off stage. How long ago did you two meet again? You think you were probably toddlers, bruises on your knees and chocolate stains on your shirts.

— Yes, he was kind of… your best friend, you suppose.

— Except whatever it is you feel for him is more than friendship at this point, thus, meaning the rumors are indeed not entirely a hoax the media made up.

— The problem is you can never, never, make these feelings known to him or to anyone else.

— Especially not right now of all times, with the media’s eye set on you two

— Because you know how annoying it must be for him to be mistaken as your boyfriend so often.

— At first, he politely denied it with a soft voice, so unlike his deep tone… Surely he’s so bothered about people making these kinds of remarks, seeing how he’s stopped deflecting the speculations anymore, instead just offering a cordial smile.

— But why do his steel hued eyes shine when the word ‘couple’ is used to refer to you and him?

— It must be your foolish heart and treacherous feelings playing tricks on you, yes.

— And yet, considering how close you two were, you certainly hadn’t payed much attention to his facial expressions in moments when it was just you and him.

— Whether working on your respective tasks or existing peacefully together, enjoying tranquil hobbies, it was not uncommon for the leader of TRIGGER to steal the occasional (every time more frequent) glance in your direction, constellations of you and him shining in his gaze every time he beheld you.

— But can he tell you? The way he feels… What if you think he’s playing with you, given all the rumors circulating already?

Perhaps jumping head first was the answer…

♡

The mid-autumn chill kisses your skin, faded street lights allowing for some of the stars to peer into the tranquil night below.

The sign perched over the entrance of the soba shop is illuminated in cold light, its glow akin to a trail of moonstone pebbles leading you to the place where your heart felt warmest.

Your lips curl into a smile, as you see the one you came looking for just parking the store’s motorcycle by the door, his uniform still on.

You knew how he sometimes pretended to be just a regular guy, shipping soba orders here and there, claiming “I’m not that handsome” when inquiries regarding his stage persona were inevitably uttered.

“Hey there, delivery boy.” You greet him, arms crossed, pulling your jacket closer to your form.

The ‘delivery boy’ in question turns around, sharp moonlight eyes crinkling up in a mirror image to the crescent rising over a backdrop of deep indigo.

And you could never deny that the smile he gifts you causes for heat to rise up your neck.

A feverish dream, lasting only for a few instants, scattered like rose petals, when you realize the magnitude of the earthquake you two being in a relationship could ensue.

Besides, you’re sure it’s one sided.

Oh, how wrong you were.

“Hey, [Y/n]…” Gaku calls you. He’s grateful for the poor illumination partially concealing the blush already forming across the bridge of his nose and his cheeks.

You tilt your head to the side, looking up at him.

“What is it, Gaku?”

He clears his throat, brows a little furrowed as he looks to the side.

“I… Uh… Ehem… Can I ask you to… wait for me for a bit? While I get changed. There’s something I’d like to… discuss with you.”

You stare at him, a little baffled. Gaku could be a tad awkward at times, but it was unusual for him to stumble over his words this much. And what’s this he has to discuss with you? Has he finally snapped because of all the people mistaking you two for a couple?

“Okay.” You nod, meekly.

And, are you seeing things, or did his smile just widen at your agreement?

���Come inside, we can’t have you catching a cold now.” The idol suggests, a hand on the small of your back. “I mean, in the lobby. Not like, inside the changing room.” Your friend lets out, his reddened cheeks now on full display thanks to the shop’s lighting.

You chuckle, the sound alone enough for Gaku to pause for an instant, admiring the way your eyes close and your lips tilt upwards.

Oh, how he’s dreamt of taking those lips in his.

And perhaps he planned for this to go differently, with him wearing his best clothes, the poetry of ‘may I have the honor to love you?’ adrift beneath a starry sky.

But, right now, Yaotome Gaku is afraid he might lose heart.

So he halts his steps, turning around, his solemn gaze of argent stardust fixated on you.

“Or you know what… Let me tell you now.”

“Is there anything wrong, Gaku? Did something happen?” Your brows knit together in concern, as you unconsciously reach forward and take one of his hands in both of yours.

“You’re so warm… are you feeling alright?” You ask.

Your cluelessness was truly endearing sometimes, he thinks.

“I’m okay.” The idol smiles, his hand leaning against the touch of yours. “Just… I want to ask you something.”

Your stare fixates on his, the almost midnight sky at a standstill outside the old establishment’s windows.

“What would you say if I asked you… What if… No.” He brings his free hand to his forehead. “Okay, don’t hate me for this, please.” Are the last words you hear before he tugs on your entwined hands and his lips crash against yours. His other hand cups the back of your head, pulling you closer to him, until the constellation of your longing fuses into a supernova of eternal waiting that finally paid off.

Your eyes go wide at first, air stolen from your very lungs.

You don’t need it now, though. Not as long as Yaotome Gaku’s lips are breathing life into your own with his searing kiss.

Your lids flutter closed, a balmy daze clinging to you as your hands grab the front of his shirt for support.

Well, his message definitely came across.

And by the way you react, it seems like your answer is a rotund affirmation.

Gaku’s grandparents agree, as they silently peek through the ajar kitchen door, the dancing embers of young love, so heartwarmingly sweet.