itoshiexx · 3 days ago
Text
WHEN YOU'RE MAD AND USE THEIR FULL NAME
Tumblr media
how the blue lock boyfriends react when you're mad and use their full name
pairings: isagi yoichi, nagi seishiro and itoshi sae x gn!reader (separate) | warnings: little arguments, angst if u squint, reader is kinda hot headed? lol, mostly fluff and the boys wanting to be in your good graces.
notes: did i kick depression in the ass to finish this? not really. but it worked, and here i am! this is my nagi seishiro debut omgggg hopefully i did him justice and he's not too ooc. also new design for the scenarios to match my theme. enjoy, lovelies! let me know if you'd like especific scenarios and send me an ask :)
masterlist
Tumblr media
ISAGI YOICHI
yoichi hoped he would die. 
really. 
it’s the least he deserved for making you angry — even more so because he didn’t know what made you angry in the first place. he spent the last fifteen minutes excavating his mind to try and remember what could have ticked you off so much that you don’t even wanna look at him.
he hates it. isagi needs your eyes on him, needs to hear your voice and touch your skin. and with the way you’re so silent and distant, he might be just like a man in the desert without water.
“baby,” he looked at you on the other end of the couch, intently watching the tv show in front of you.  just a glimpse would make him breathe again. just a nod would ease his nerves. hell, he would even take a glare, as long as you were looking at him.
but he got nothing. zero. nada.
“baby, please,” he tried again. “i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to make you mad.”
you furrowed your eyebrows, but still didn’t spare him a glance. he sighed.
“i’ll never do it agai—”
“do you even know why you’re apologizing, isagi yoichi?!” you asked, exasperated. your boyfriend froze on the spot when hearing his full name, because of course he didn’t. 
as far as he knew, you were having a great day together. he bought you breakfast from your favorite bakery, you made a delicious lunch and then you two went out shopping. he even gifted you with a beautiful necklace after an enthusiastic shop employee offered to show him some pieces—
oh.
“you got jealous of the saleswoman?”
“blah blah you got jealous of the saleswoman? heck yeah I did!” you impersonated him with a high pitched, sarcastic voice that showed just how mad you were. “she was all over you, yoichi, and you didn’t do anything!” 
he swallowed thickly, daring to approach you on the couch. he hugged your frame, despite the crossed arms in front of your chest making it a little hard.
“i’m sorry, darling. i didn’t even notice she was being inappropriate because you’re the only one i pay attention to. and i always figured people would never dare be so bold if you’re by my side and we’re clearly together.”
his sweet words coated you, making you glance away, knowing that looking at his puppy eyes would end you for good. 
“you should have done something anyway.”
“i know. i totally should, and i’m sorry i didn’t. i never meant to make you feel bad or let people disrespect you.” he rested his chin on your shoulder, breath shuddering right on your ear.
the sincerity in his voice was enough to chip away your anger, and you visibly relaxed in his embrace. yoichi held a breath of relief, knowing he still had to be careful.
“i’m sorry, baby. it won’t happen again. forgive me, please?” he placed a sweet kiss on your cheek, and god, how could you keep being mad like that?
damn isagi yoichi and his genuine blue eyes.
you uncrossed your arms, embracing his instead, and finally looked at him with love again.
“fine. but just because you’re so charming, ‘ichi.”
he chuckled. “you’re the charming one. i’m totally under your spell, darling.”
and when your lips met, yoichi hoped to keep living just to have more of you.
NAGI SEISHIRO
people would often ask him if his detached, nonchalant persona ever got in his way through his life. seishiro would always say no, because everything and everyone he did care about understood his lazy way and inability to do… pretty much everything.
that didn’t mean he never made the effort, though. as much as nagi liked to live like a sloth and just go on with his life playing video games, there were still things in his life that were worth it. like football. his friends. and you, of course. 
ever since you met, seishiro discovered that being with you wasn’t a bother. and after he fell in love and you became a couple, he found himself eager to indulge you, even if it meant going out of his way. his friends congratulated him and expressed genuine happiness to see how much he improved, and that, along with your beautiful smile, filled his heart with joy. 
however, no matter how much he tried, he was still…
“nagi seishiro.” 
a shiver ran down his spine with the sound of your voice, and not the good kind. he had never heard you sound so stern, so angry, so… disappointed, even. enough to leave a sour taste in his mouth. so much so he immediately lifted his eyes from his console, only to find your harsh gaze.
“ehh? wha’ did i do, angel? don’t say my name like that,” he pouted, crawling towards your body splayed on the bed. 
even when you tried to fight his embrace, nagi took advantage of his large frame to engulf you and lay his head on your chest, so you wouldn’t walk away in case you got any angrier.
“babeeeee,” he whined, hugging you tighter.
“let go of me,” you said, and he just shook his head. “you deserve it. you weren’t even listening to what i was saying, were you?”
what a hassle. he really wasn’t listening, but… well, he got way too focused on beating the last boss. could you really blame him? 
he heard you scoff. “oh, my bad, i should have known it was the last boss. it’s more important than me anyway, right, nagi?”
fuck. fuck. fuck. did he say that out loud? he sounded like a dick. you had every right to be mad and call him by his full or last name. 
nagi lifted his head from your chest to look at you, feeling his throat tighten with the sight of your teary eyes. guilt gnawed at his chest when seeing how upset and frustrated you were. 
“eh, ’m sorry, pretty thing. i got too caught up ‘n didn’t notice you were talking t’me.”
“am i that invisible to you?” a tear almost rolled down your cheek. seishiro shook his head, a little more exasperated than usual. 
“huh? ’f course not, angel. y’re never invisible. all i see is you. y’re the most important to me,” he held eye contact, and even though you wanted to tear your gaze away, seishiro’s eyes were more magnetizing than ever, even if your view was a little blurry.
you knew your boyfriend wasn’t the type to lie, since he always claimed it was a hassle. you knew you were important to him, but his lack of consideration still hurt. 
“i’ll apologize as many times as you wish. ‘m sorry for not listening and making you feel bad. i never wan’ you to feel bad, pretty thing.” 
nagi used his strength to roll around and switch your positions, in a way you were on top of him instead. he started caressing your hair in a soothing motion, making your eyelashes flutter. “y’can talk as much as you want. i promise i’ll listen t’you.”
your eyes welled with tears for a different reason, and you hugged the striker as hard as you could. even if he faltered, seishiro never failed to make up to you and make you feel loved.
“promise, sei?”
“promise.”
ITOSHI SAE
although sae wasn’t exactly smart in the emotions field, he always knew when you weren’t happy with something. you scowled, huffed and rolled your eyes, keeping an eerie silence that was only broken when absolutely necessary. 
at that moment, he was sure you weren’t happy with him.
you both kept to yourselves while still at the event, masquerading any problems for the cameras. sae had a hand at the small of your back and he could feel how stiff you were. the midfielder wouldn't admit that seeing you so uncomfortable around him made his heart pang.
at the limo, the path to your shared penthouse was quiet, and you brushed him off when he tried to hold your hand. sae could only stare at his window with furrowed brows, itching to dissipate this awkward atmosphere. he never liked when you were mad, especially at him.
he expected some sort of explosion when you got to your apartment, but you kept your glaze off him, trying to walk to the bedroom for your night routine without even sparing him a word. 
nuh-uh. that wouldn’t do. 
he held your wrist before you could go, and lightly pulled you so that you were facing him. your eyes widened with the sudden movement, but narrowed as soon as landed on his face. 
“why are you mad?”
you scoffed. the audacity of this man. 
“you know exactly why i’m mad, itoshi sae.”
shit, the government name? you were really fucking angry.
“i wouldn’t be asking if i knew,” he answered, immediately regretting it when you glared at him, as if saying that wasn’t the right answer. “i-i mean… i didn’t realize what was wrong, amor.”
you walked closer to your boyfriend, making him release your wrist. despite his typical stoic face, sae was clinging to your every word.
“itoshi sae, you can not talk to your little brother like that!” you nearly growled on his face, surprising him. “you were very rude and condescending, and that’s no way to speak to rin!”
he frowned. you were mad because of rin? the little green monster inside of him threatened to grow, but he forced him to stay put. sae didn’t want to anger you further, so he simply let his hands slither to your hips, pulling you closer to him.
“i don’t think i was rud—” you lifted one eyebrow, and he rolled his eyes. “fine. i might have been kinda harsh.”
“and?” you crossed your arms.
he sighed. “i will apologize.”
“i’m serious about this, itoshi sae. i will ask rin—”
“i’ll tell him i’m sorry, okay? no need to keep talking about rin.” he interrupted, palms traveling to your ass while he nosed your neck. he planted a small kiss under your ear, huffing a minty breath that made you shudder. sae smirked. “and no need to keep calling me by full name, either. what happened to ‘cariño’?”
you held onto his biceps for some grounding, but still didn’t budge. 
“you weren’t very sweet today, so it’s not fitting.” 
he pouted while hiding in your neck, taking full advantage that you couldn’t see him, but was quick to withdraw to face you once again, touching your noses. one of his hands cradled your jaw, and you sighed with the pathetic effect your boyfriend had on you. 
“perdóname, amor?” he whispered against your lips, eyes sincere like you knew he could be. your poor little heart could never resist him when he was like this, rarely vulnerable and eager for you.
you gave a long exhale, arms moving to tangle around his neck. and folded.
“as long as you make it right, mi cariño.”
Tumblr media
© 2024 itoshiexx. do not plagarise, translate, or repost any of my work on here or other sites.
732 notes · View notes
globesiem · 19 hours ago
Text
reminder. ★ lando norris, 4.
content porn with minimal plot, dirty talk, penetration, pr!reader, unprotected sex.
ideally, being lando norris’ public relations manager wouldn’t have to be such a chore. covering up every scandal, from the miami party rumors to every offhanded bratty comment he continued making to the media despite acknowledging their overdramatic reactions and nitpicky behavior.
sometimes you couldn’t help but wonder if his overly loose mouth was a product of his lack of media training, or simply because he rather enjoyed eliciting a reaction out of you. quickly skimping behind him, throwing apologies across the room for your boss’ uncanny comments.
also ideally, the snarky and arrogant comments he made into the reporters’ microphones, wouldn’t end up with you pinned against the wall of his motorhome. somehow the line between professionalism and carnal desire began to blur over the course of your laboral relationship, ending up in a mess of teeth clashing together, desperate hands roaming the other’s body in an attempt to earn satisfaction, along with a string of pornographic sounds that could easily be depicted from a sexual film.
“lando, you need to be more careful.” your voice was faint and exhasperated, interrupted by his harsh thrusts that caused you to almost hiccup after every word, shaky hands tangled into his hair, tugging at the sweaty curls just barely.
“that’s why i got you, huh?” his tone dripped of faux sweetness, a tint of mockery hidden under the charming english accent that made your head spin with every small undertone or enunciation.
“don’t do anything stupid—” you cut yourself off with a loud moan, gasping for air as his lips commenced their nip on your neck, peppering love marks where his teeth slightly bit down. “—is all i’m saying.” you managed to finish your sentence with a pant.
“well,” he managed to mumble against your collarbone, pausing momentarily to direct his gaze to yours, a small smirk evidenly spreading across his lips. “too late for that now, hm?” his voice came out in a lustful tone, seductive, even. he acted as if you weren’t completely at his mercy, waiting for his wandering hands to make their way to where you needed them the most.
it was almost pathetic, truly. the way you melted under his touch, fog clouding every ounce of judgement you ever thought you had, soft mewls escaping your pursed lips at every ghastly touch; hands gripping your hips in a possessive manner, pulling you impossibly closer with a shaky breath.
“oh shut up,” you breathed out, sentence ending up in more of a moan rather than a strong imposition, tone of voice betraying the supposed thread of self control that still seemed to reign within you.
“me?” he scoffed, rolling his eyes playfully. you knew you were playing with fire, evident in the way his eyes seemed to darken with every teasing word thrown his way, constructed to perfection to keep luring him.
you were like a siren to him, so irresistibly beautiful he couldn’t help to shove his cock down your throat after a while of getting to know you, stuff you full of his cum while having you moan out his name in an utter haze.
could you blame him? seeing you walk around the paddock with those tiny skirts and mclaren team shirts that occasionally, and quite coincidentally, had his number on them, made him grow possessive of you, a growing thirst he could only cure with his tongue on your cunt.
which is how you seemed to always end up in this situation, pinned against the wall of his motorhome with his cock shoved inside your dripping pussy. your panties were somewhere in the room, torn apart by the same veiny hand that held your hips in place to thrust deeper inside of you, making sure to hit every sweet spot he seemed to memorize after each encounter, lips openly peppering kisses along your jaw and neck, leaving a trail of purple bites as a reminder.
“so good for me,” he whispered, more of an affirmation to himself if he was to be completely honest. “wouldn’t want anyone else to fuck. beauty and brains, hm?” you were sure he never learned how to keep his pretty mouth shut, but you clearly weren’t complaining as your slick coated his cock perfectly with an encouragement of each word from him.
“please, lan.” you moaned out in a higher pitched tone than usual, head thrown back as he continued rutting his hips at a quick pace, a hand now trailing to your neck, gripping barely enough to increase your growing pleasure, another hand holding your hips tightly as a series of low groans escaped his lips.
“let go for me, darling. i got you,” he continued talking in a low voice, huffing as he pistoned his hips quicker, the sound of skin slapping accompanied with a louder moan from you, his lips carefully biting your collarbone.
“i’m, fuck—” you cut yourself off with a loud moan, needless to say your juices quickly coated his dick with a white ring of your juices as your orgasm washed over you, body slightly shaking.
with one final thrust and a few words you couldn’t quite make out in the haze of your post orgasm state, he came inside of you, shooting ropes of cum into your puffy cunt, continuing to rut into you momentarily to make sure it stayed inside deep inside, like a reminder.
“told you to be more careful.” you breathed out.
“and i told you, that’s what i have you for, angel.”
279 notes · View notes
backinmyphase · 1 day ago
Text
Not your wife
Tumblr media
Synopsis: The walls of the Gojo estate were big as always. The atmosphere cold like before, more than ever since the sudden end of Gojo Satoru's and your honeymoon. And the meeting with the higher-ups was coming near...
Or: Satoru Gojo doesn't even know how attached he will grow to his wife yet.
Pairing: Gojo x reader, 6200 words Masterlist
Contains: arranged marriage, generational trauma, jujutsu clans and higher ups, much Angst (I'm saying, MUCH angst!) Angst to comfort at the end, after this part will come more, but this will be the end of their introduction to each other
A/n: Alright it took awhile, but I still hope you will like it and it will be worth the wait for you! Like always I'm happy about any comments, they make seriously my day <3
Tumblr media
Gojo Satoru was always the strongest and most powerful man in jujutsu society, you knew that.
You heard stories when you were a kid. Your father remembering the meetings with the Gojo Clan more than your birthday. And he was always fascinated by this boy with these absurdly godlike talent.
And then there was his daughter. You didn't have any talent. No, you didn't have the power to make any adult cower before you.
And you were a girl.
It was only natural your father forgot you or at least tried to. Then how could he look at his child and see that he was not the one his Clan prioritized, because he didn't have a worthy heir.
You were an only child, much to your parents dismay. Your father was… Well he couldn't have more kids. You could still see the doctors, and the screams of your father. The crying of your mother. You were six, when you realized you were doomed.
Doomed as the girl who ruined her father's life and name.
It could have been worse. Your parents didn't treat you too bad. They mostly left you in the hands of the maids and Servants. You ate alone since your eighth birthday. Your father couldn't stand eating and looking at you and your mother didn't want to be alone with you.
But it wasn't the worst. They didn't hit you or anything like that. They were frustrated, of course and they still are, but they knew you could still be useful to the Clan. And you knew that one day you would have to marry some man, hopefully a clan leader, to make up for the fact you weren't a boy.
Your mother did teach you personally. And even if she just did so you could get a husband, it still showed she cared.
You didn't live like the golden boy Gojo Satoru.
No, you knew he was special since your father told your mother and you that 'this one boy could be the rising of the jujutsu society to a new level!'.
Your Status was so different from his, you could laugh.
There was one time you saw him, before you two married. And of course that wasn't in the arrangement time, he didn't show up to meet you personally, but it was at a Clan meeting a couple of years ago.
How old were you? Fourteen? Maybe even fifteen. And your parents were arguing about if you should even come with. Your father was livid. 'How could I show myself, when she is there to remind everyone?' he yelled.
But your mother insisted that you should show yourself to start leaving an impression. 'She has to find a husband.' your mother was ice cold. 'And she has to start young. Don't you want a connection to the Gojo Clan?'
'As if Gojo.' He looked at you and that was the first time you had heard him laugh. 'As if she and Gojo…'
The difference between you and Gojo was always clear to you. And you knew that everyone else knew too. But your mother pushed through and took you with her. The ride was silent and you could stil see the empty eyes of your father.
His ego was so easily bruised.
As you made your way into the big estate of the Clan, you could feel the stares of the maides and the servants. Even they knew what you were. Who you were. And why your parents scowled as they came with you.
'So lovely to meet you.' Mrs. Gojo had that same smile you would see on her years later. And when you thought about it, she and your mother had tension between them even back then.
'And who is that beautiful lady?' she smiled at you, her hair was perfect, her dress made perfectly for her. She was a lady in power. But everything was only held together by the pretty golden ring on her ringfinger. Pretty but heavy, you knew that even back then.
'Our oldest daughter.' you father held up this nothing saying face but you could see his frustration.
'And your only one.' Mr. Gojo spoke up behind his wife and had the same but more smugly smile as he looked at your father. And you didn't miss the clenching of your father's teeth.
'Where is the young Gojo boy?' of course even back then your mother searched the control in the situation. And she always did a good job in directing the tension into a different direction.
'Oh, he is out playing.' Mrs. Gojo waved her hand. 'Some of his friends came by.'
He was out playing. His friends visited.
That was the moment you first really realized just how much different you lived. You had to beg to go outside, to attend meetings. He could just leave when his friends asked for him. Hell, he was allowed to play with friends! It was almost surreal how such an important figure had such a normal relaxing life.
'You can join them of course?' Mrs. Gojo smiled at you. Not much later you were send outside into the little yard of the estate.
Gojo laughed with some kids. They were running around, made dumb jokes you didn't understand and furthermore didn't talk to you. You were the weird stuck up girl to these boys and boys shouldn't talk to girls. That was stuck in their dumb teenage brains.
But in Gojo's eyes was something that ticked you off. This look of knowing. Maybe it was your paranoia but even back then you were sure of it, that he understood your different status and what it meant.
So you couldn't say you were that surprised.
༻✦༺  ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
"How was your Honeymoon, my Lady?"
You tried to smile as you looked at Hina. She was smiling softly and only now you realized just how much you missed her. The cold walls of the big house were not missed.
"Lovely." you held your things close to yourself, most of your baggage already brought into your room. The uber behind you drove away, now that you were back home. If you could really call it that.
"You look exhausted?" she didn't miss the eye bags under your eyes. But they weren't hard to miss, after all every night was a fight.
"Just missed my own bed." you moved, Hina taking some things from you. Your steps steady, determined.
"Is that why you came back so abruptly?"
You couldn't help but stop in your tracks. And you wished that was the reason. But it wasn't. It was also not the reason your husband wasn't in the uber with you. It wasn't the reason why you longed for your own room.
"Yeah. Just was a bit exhausted." you smiled at the lovely girl in front of you. "Will you excuse me?"
༻✦༺  ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
"My lady?" Hina's voice was soft, like it was scared to speak to loudly. "Dinner is ready and Mr. Gojo is waiting for you."
Your room was dark, the curtains closed and your back to the door. Since hours you were laying in your bed trying to sleep, to relax like those nights when you slept well. But it didn't work, nothing worked.
"I will be there in a minute."
You heard her steps distancing from your room. And with a heavy feeling you stood up. Your gaze dropping to your night table. The hairpin of your mother laying there, neatly. So put together.
Next to it the letter of the higher-ups. It reminded you of the following Friday. The meeting that was waiting for you.
And the husband that was waiting for your presence.
It wasn't easy to get up, to take all these steps towards the room with the person you really didn't want to see. In fact you didn't want to see anyone.
The table was big as always, filled with food you knew wouldn't all be eaten. Your seat open and waiting for you. And across from it, he sat. Satoru.
His head was down, cutting his meat as he chewed. He didn't look up as you sat down, no he gripped his fork harder as he ate. The nerve of him.
"Did you get home safely?"
"Yeah, I did." you took a bit of the food around you, even though you were nowhere hungry. "I wouldn't be here if not, would I?"
He stopped chewing for a second, his eyes almost going up. But he didn't and swallowed. "I guess."
The silence that flooded the room was filled with tension you felt familiar with. It was like when you were eight again, the dinners after it was revealed you would be the only child of your parents.
He was mad.
He cut his food like he hated it. And his blue eyes were like storms, fighting and brewing. In the end you still didn't know this man.
"Will you go to meet them?"
He had no right to look at you like that. No right, to make you feel guilty, to make you feel like the villain here.
"Will you disappear for a mission again?"
He was silent. And he should be. It was humiliating, how he left you to ride alone home again. Just mumbling of having to work instead of talking to you.
The sound of chewing and eating was the only thing that filled the room and it wasn't too long until you were finished. He stared at you, watching your doing. Now you couldn't bear yourself to look at him.
"You could have come to me. You could just tal-"
"I want to eat alone from now on again." you cut him off. You didn't want to hear his oh so great ideas, as if he knew your position.
He was quiet again. You took that as a sign to continue. "And I want to promote Hina, if that's okay. I still need a personal maid, to help me prepare for our later Clan events."
You stood up, the conversation was finished for you. You couldn't bear to hear his accusations, feel his piercing eyes on you and endure this tension in the room.
You hurried to take the steps to your room, Gojo not speaking up again.
Maybe you were overreacting. But if you felt the way you felt, why try to act not like it? He said he wanted to see your real emotions, he could feel it.
After yesterday you wouldn't need to be told twice to give him the cold shoulder.
༻✦༺  ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺ Yesterday
"What is this?" he held the cursed piece of paper up, the one you didn't know about. The one he just stole from you.
"A letter for me."
You looked into his eyes, your face was scowling now. He didn't have the right to just take your things, sneak around in your business and then act like you did something wrong.
"From the higher-ups." he let out a low joyless laugh. "You talk to them regular?"
He was intimidating. His body seemed so much bigger suddenly, his eyes like blades and he towered above you.
"Talk about me with them?"
"Stop." you narrowed your eyes as he let out another of these scary chuckles.
"Do you tell them all the things I do?" he shook his head and a scary smile mirrored his laugh. "Tell them everything about our marriage?"
"I said, Stop." you snatched the letter from him, finally having it secured.
"Is it true you meet up with them regular?" he didn't smile anymore. Didn't laugh. There was only this vulnerability and you did feel bad. But in this moment all of it clashed down on you, your exhaustion and everything on top made you overwhelmed like no time before.
"Why do you care?" you turned around trying to hide the tears that were clouding your eyes. Suppressing the heavy breathing and the hiccups. The shaking. Everything was becoming so loud, so alive.
"I care!" he became louder. "If my wife is talking to old hags more than to me! I care when she meets up with the people who controlled my whole life, and discusses me with them!"
Now it was your turn to laugh. "You want to talk about control?" you shook your head. "Gojo, you had freedom! My whole life was built up to marry you, that is my whole purpose. You had control, you had the freedom to have a childhood! It is my duty to meet up with them, I have no other choice!"
Now you could feel his infinity. It felt unstable, uncomfortable, just awful in your back. "But you do." his voice was eerily calm. "You could have talked to me. You could have come to me, instead of working with them!"
"Oh please, do you hear yourself? Working with them, what do you think they talk with me about?" you turned around to look at him and the sight shocked you. He looked like a whole different person. What a smile does to a lerson right? And how the disappearance of one changes one.
"Well it's worse enough that you feel the need to keep it from me."
"What do you expect from me?!" you screamed now, the exhaustion now making your head dizzy. Or was it really just the exhaustion?
"Do you expect me to tell you everything? To immediately trust you? I don't know you, Gojo!"
He flinched at that, the anger in him was rising. "At least I try to get to know you! You just run away from me and don't even consider us working together! How should I know you, if you don't open up?!"
"How do you expect me to just open up?" you hiccuped, the tears now falling, the paper in your hands getting wet. "Since the beginning of the discussion of this marriage you rejected my existence. You made me deal with our Clan relationships alone since our wedding day, how do you expect me to just share all of it now with you?"
Your breathing was uneven, the tears blocking your lungs, making it oh so hard to breathe.
"But I am trying right now-"
"I know, okay?" your voice began to fall apart, becoming more hoarse. "I know you try, but a couple of conversations don't fix everything! I don't expect you to fix everything right now, but you have to forgive me if I can't switch up after a couple of days. This isn't your issue, it's mine."
His body was shaking a bit. He was still so tall, you couldn't look at his face, it seemed impossible. "I think our marriage shouldn't be discussed with these old hags. That isn't just your issue, it's mine too."
"It's not about how our marriage is going." speaking was hurting a bit, and the words were heavy on your lips. It felt so unfair. "It's about what… I should do. How my Clan relies on me in this. How I have to steady their relationship with the Gojo Clan." Through a heir.
"And how can I trust you on that?" his eyes seemed so coldly empty, it was almost scary. A person can be so different. His words stung and at the same time almost made you laugh.
"You talk a lot about me needing to open up and trust you, but at the same time you sneak into my letters and my business." You stood up.
"I think that says more about you than me."
༻✦༺  ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
After that evening Gojo said he had to go on a 'mission' and that the Honeymoon would be fine to be cut short. He left the same morning. There was already an uber for you ready, the little hotelroom for yourself and his things long gone.
You really shouldn't surprised and you hated yourself for crying that morning after he left. But it still hurt. How he could always just leave. You felt so alone.
And now you were 'home'.
You couldn't stand looking at him for too long that was clear from the dinner yesterday. You couldn't stand his anger.
You just wanted to curl yourself in a ball and sleep forever. But even the sleep was a chore, the nightmares still not leaving. The only good time was with the young Hina, who made you go outside and for the first time you explored the big mansion you were living in.
And even though it was tiring, you were happy she made you go through the big halls. It gave you a task, a new adventure, something else than the next meeting with them to focus on.
The garden was beautiful. All the flowers, some you have never seen or heard from before, blooming in these varieties of vibrant colors. The big trees giving a safe place from the sun and a small lake, which you could sit next to.
"Do you feel better, My lady?" Hina was desperately trying to make you feel better, she was really a sweet girl.
"Yeah, it's calming here." the breeze which made your hair float a bit was refreshing.
"I'm glad." she smiled, "I was a bit worried after you ate without my lord this morning.
The cold that came over you made you shiver. What should you tell her? What would she think of the truth? How would she react? You'd better not tell her, hina had other problems. Hina shouldn't find out what you're going through and even if she did, would she tell Gojo? Would she tell him what your mother said to you? No, you couldn't risk that, it just wasn't reasonable.
She was such a nice girl.
So caring. So open minded. How were you so lucky? To have a face around you that's not stoic? You couldn't be more thankful.
"Oh, We just agreed to eat separately because of our different bed and his work time. And he has to eat early, that's why."
She locked a bit perplexed. And the little frown on her face told you that she didn't really believe you. But she didn't press anymore, just explained the flowers to you.
"Should we go to the library next?"
"That sounds lovely."
༻✦༺  ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺ Satoru never felt so bad. Yeah, he felt guilty a couple of times but never like this. But at the same time he was hurt. It felt like something was pressed down in his stomach and pushed around, when he just thought of these old bastards working with you.
He felt terrible. How was he supposed to act now? he wanted to go talk to you, but at the same time he felt like that would only make things worse. You worked with these people, you tolerated their ways. These people who were the root of the problem of this doomed society.
Maybe you did it all for your clan, but shouldn't your marriage with him be your priority now? Maybe he was being a selfish asshole, but it just hurt so damn much.
And then there was the letter. He still had the second letter, the one from your mother that you had left on your bedside table.
And he just didn't know whether he should open it or not. Actually he wanted to, actually he had to, because he wanted to know what was really written in there, but…
There was also the hurt look on your face when he had opened the other one. Every time he closed his eyes he saw this vulnerable expression on your face.
Would you even be able to forgive him then?
At the same time, you had lied to him and he just didn't know what to believe anymore. What should he do?
The paper in his hands was heavy, hard and incredibly uncomfortable in his hand, it was as if it was cursed.
He still knew the letter from the higher-ups by heart.
Dear Mrs. Gojo,
We are pleased to inform you that your little misstep is being forgiven. We hope you have a good honeymoon. Despite everything, we are still very unhappy with the incident and hope that you have learned from it to let us know before you act. But we are glad that you have taken the matter into your own hands and wish you happy days in which you hopefully get your husband under control.
See you at the next meeting.
The paper rustled in his hand and although his heart was beating incredibly fast, almost like to stop him, he opened the paper with his shaking fingers.
He was in the jujutsu academy near his old classroom. His mission was long finished. Earlier this day he wanted to talk to Geto about everything that has happened but his friend had accepted a mission that would probably take a while.
And now Satoru was alone to make probably a bad decision.
On the letter were numbers, no rather a date not so far away, which made him shiver.
Something was odd with the way the letter was written, the writing of your mother felt eerily. And he felt cursed energy. No, there had to be something wrong with your mother.
Should he really read it? Was it really his business what your mother was writing you?
The last week he got to see and hear you cry every night. Whispering your mother's name in fear. Maybe you did because you missed her. But something about this woman ticked something in him off.
He didn't want to sneak around behind your back.
But it began to be his business, the moment he started to care about his darling wife.
༻✦༺  ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
The Friday knocked on the door of your mind every minute of every day. And even though you didn't want to open the door for it, it did come around.
And you knew as you woke up that it would be torture.
You were tired. It was surreal how you could even stand up. How were you supposed to attend a meeting like that?
With a heavy heart you got ready and your eyes fell on the old hairpin your mother had given you - she really was everywhere.
This morning hina hadn't come by your room at all to tell you that gojo was eating breakfast.
Was it really still that early? No, it was almost noon. Oh God, noon! You had to get ready, you should be there soon!
Once again, they had scheduled so much time that you felt horrible. Would you have to listen to them babble on for hours again, the nasty words about your clan and how you would defile it?
"Hina?," you picked up your things and got ready. "I have to go now, would you please let the cook know that I'm not eating here today?"
There was no answer for a long time but eventually the girl came in with wide eyes.
"What do you mean, you are going?" she asked.
"Of course, Ihave to go to the meeting, didn't I tell you? Ihave an appointment." you took your hairpin and this time you even got ready with it.
"But why today?"
"I told you I have to go today. It's Friday, isn't it?"
Hina seemed different, somehow more tense than usual and it didn't make you feel good.
"If you say so." she said and picked up a few things that were dirty. "But please come back on time, not as late as last time, my lady."
A chuckle escaped you, as you saw her worried look. Why was she so tense about this?
"Don't worry, I won't die."
༻✦༺  ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
"Did you make any progress?"
You wanted to eat your words. Since you came into the building you once called home you felt like a corpse. Your mother wasn't here, the maids telling you she got sick this morning.
You thought it wouldn't be that bad without her but you were mistaken. Normally she would sit beside you on the other side of the table, but now you sat there alone, like you were fighting against them on your own. Like no one here was on your side.
"My Honeymoon was lovely, thank you." you didn't know how the sentence slipped past your lips, but your exhaustion made your tongue slippery and your attitude bigger.
"Be careful young lady, you can be very thankful you are even still his wife! After your little misstep you can be very grateful for our forgiveness." an elderly woman spoke.
Every meeting she picked at you and took you apart. She always seemed so mad at you.
"I am." you lowered your head, hitting yourself for your carelessness.
"So there is a baby on the way?"
The leader of them, an old man with a long beard was looking at you with a neutral look. You could never read him.
The question scared you since you left for your honeymoon. This pressure on top of you was making you sick. The weight of it making you dizzy. What were you supposed to do? If you told them no, you could easily be banished back to your own Clan, and lose all of respect your mother had left for you.
If you told them yes, then you had to…
No, no, no, no, why? Why did you have to be a puppet for them? Why couldn't you just live? Why did you have to push all your emotions aside and drown them?
You were so scared of the night. So scared of the act you should have already done.
"It isn't, isn't it?" the elderly woman laughed as you gripped your stomach.
And even though it was empty, you felt like throwing up.
"I told you!" the woman stood up. "This girl shouldn't have been chosen for this! We need a woman who knows what is at stake here, not a filthy selfish little girl, who cries at the pressure!"
Every word pierced you, and you hated that tears formed themselves.
"Someone like your granddaughter?" The 'leader' of them raised an eyebrow. "Please, Kamo, that's ridiculous. And not in our control. Mrs. Gojo wanted to meet every girl and judge them personally. And be in control of the relations with other Clans."
His look at you was just as poisonous, regardless of his previous words.
"We have to work with this. Until we have found an alternative."
An alternative.
You were screwed. They had already a search going for a replacement. Were already ready to drop you and break the news to your Clan.
"I think she is misunderstanding something." A man, who was a bit younger than the rest, smiled smugly at you. "This whole thing isn't about love or wanting to do things. It's about what you have to do."
"So just get it over with and spare yourself the trouble?"
Your body felt so heavy, everything tense, fighting the urge to run away, to throw up and hide all at once.
Suddenly the door swung open and one of the guards came in completely out of breath and visibly agitated.
"I really tried, but I just couldn't stop him! That's just not in my power." he was out of breath.
"What are you talking about?" the old 'leader' stood up and suddenly looked so small. His eyes were big, something like fear was there.
"Well.." the guard looked uncomfortable.
And then you heard it. At first you thought it was one of them but then you realized.
"What do you think you are doing, talking to my wife like that?"
No, that couldn't be. How? How was he here? Why? What did you give away? No, this had to be one of your dumb dreams. Because it just couldn't be that Satoru Gojo just came through that door-
Oh.
Satoru had clothes on you had never seen on him before. It was an kimono, the usual for Clan leaders. His face was concentrated, didn't show any weakness in front of this important people. Instead it was almost belittling how he looked at them.
"There you are sweetheart!" his face lit up, as he spotted you, there was no sign of your fight and his anger. There was just Satoru.
He walked over to you, all these oh so mighty people clearing the way for him. He didn't even bat an eye at them. Without any hesitation he sat down next to you.
"Now, it really wasn't polite to not inform me of this meeting." he looked at them, with one of his challenging smiles. "But I will forgive it this one time. Now, what did you want to discuss with the Gojo leaders?"
You could see the shock in their faces. The elderly that screamed earlier, now glaring at you. Her gaze was almost cutting you, it was that sharp. And the old leader hesitated before sitting down.
"What are you doing here?" you whispered into his ear, careful to be silent enough that they wouldn't hear you.
"We will talk later." he grabbed your hand and squeezed it gently.
"This wasn't really a meeting with the Gojo leaders." the slightly younger man spoke up, breaking the silence from the mighty higher-ups.
"Oh, but I don't understand." Gojo tilted his head. "If it wasn't then why did you speak to my wife?"
A shiver went down your back as you saw into their faces. They didn't say anything. Suddenly the position of power was shifted and they were careful to say something.
"It was about her duties for her Clan." the elderly woman shook her head. "And she was specifically asked to be her alone."
"I wonded," His grip on your hand tightened. "What of these duties are so important, you can't discuss with me too? Because last time I checked, my wife's Clan was the Gojo Clan now. So what responsibility does she hold that I don't?"
Your hands began to sweat. All of these people were shooting daggers at you and you felt like you would be murdered if Satoru left the room.
"She still has to make the relation of the Gojo Clan with her old one better-"
"And why can't I be there too?" Satoru started to laugh. "That's the thing you don't really have a reason other than to play my wife against me. Don't you?"
You couldn't help but lower your head. The tears now pushing your head down.
"Well, she wanted to come alone with her mother!" the woman who seemed to be called Kamo spoke loudly. Now you could feel all of their gazes. "Didn't you, Mrs. Gojo?"
Your body began to heat up, fire embracing you, swallowing you whole. It was itching. Decisions, decisions, decisions, why were you not doing anything, why couldn't you move? Your own body felt like a prison.
"You dumb girl, say something!" you heard her scream again. "If you don't then-"
Suddenly her voice died down. You could feel the shift and pressure was falling off of you onto the ground. And as you slowly rose your head you saw the woman pressed onto the wall, the others all in a fighting pose.
"Be careful what you are saying." Satoru's voice was icy. His eyes were like a warning and he didn't even move to activate his cursed technique. Was that the great Gojo your father was so fond about?
"Anyone talking ill about ot to my wife makes themself the Gojo Clan as enemy. And you know what I'm capable of."
The woman dropped to the ground.
"I think we can move the meeting to another day, can't we?"
༻✦༺  ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
"Why were you there today?"
Satoru sat on the opposite side of the dining table, the car ride home with him long behind you two. You waited till home to talk to him, the courage finally growing.
He stopped eating and looked up at you. He still had these clothes on, the ones that mirrored his real position.
He shifted in his seat, his eyes avoiding yours.
Then he sighed and dropped his cutlery. "I didn't want you to be alone with them."
You shook your head. "Why? I told you, it's just about-
"Stop it." he raised a hand. "Please let me talk."
You kept quiet after that. Now it was your turn to look down.
"I've been so angry the last few days. You accused me of not knowing you, but at the same time you pretended to know what my childhood was like. How could you have known that? I've known these people since i was little, i know about their games, their desire for control and especially their obsession with strength."
His voice was slightly shaking. "I'm not denying that I had some freedom, but I want you to know that a big cage is still holding someone down. And these people have always controlled my cage."
You wanted to say something, but every sentence that your head crafted was forgotten in the next second.
"But," he began, his voice now a little firmer. "It still didn't give me the right to be like this to you. Mainly I want to apologize to you and that I came to the meeting today was not because I didn't trust you but because I couldn't stand the thought of them torturing you."
"I'm sorry for invading your privacy. I know it wasn't right and I'm sorry that I only realized it after I read the letter from your mother."
You pushed the chair back so violently, it fell over. "You did, WHAT?"
Satoru looked down, shameful.
"That's why you knew where and when we would meet up?" you couldn't contain the hurt in your voice, but for the first time you didn't care.
He nodded.
"Do you really think I'm acting against you, or-"
"No!" Now it was his turn to stand up. And in only a matter of seconds he stood right before you. "It's not because I think badly of you!"
His hands were going through his hair, making it much messier than usual. You saw how he bit his lip, and it felt surreal to see Gojo Satoru so vulnerable.
"I- All of this was just driving me crazy!" he sighed frustrated. "Knowing you meet up with these people and didn't even want me to know about it. Knowing these people were talking and seeing you more than I was."
Your mind went blank as you looked at his eyes. Were they always this sad?
"When you said you wanted to have a Honeymoon to get to know me, I felt so happy, so relieved!" he turned around and paced around the rooom.
"Do you know how you look at me?" his voice was shaking. "Scared. You look at me like you are scared of me. Like I will do you wrong. Like it's me that's pressuring you."
He stopped in his tracks and let out a shaky laugh. "And then I thought that I was maybe imagining that and you weren't scared of me."
He shook his head. "And then I saw the letter. I didn't read it right away, but when I asked you some things, you lied to me and had that scared look again. And… I don't know, it was so crushing to know you never wanted to go with me on our honeymoon!"
His voice broke down a bit at the end.
And as you stood there, you felt yourself becoming shaky too. You didn't want him to think that. You were mad at him, you were still hurt, obviously, but…
You didn't want him to be hurt too.
"Satoru…" you began, but he raised another hand to stop you.
"That still doesn't excuse what I did. I don't want you to pity me into forgiveness."
You shook your head. "I am at fault too." One step towards him. "I just have my problems to trust you right away. But you were right."
You smiled as you looked down. "I do accuse you of not knowing me, but then run away from you trying. That's unfair."
As you looked up, he was already looking at him. And you could see a slight redness in his oh so blue eyes.
"I will try to open up more."
He gulped as stared at you. "I will be patient. And- I will make it up to you, till you forgive me! Really, I will never invade your-"
You chuckled a bit, some of the forming tears in your eyes escaping. "It's alright Satoru. You don't have to promise the world right now."
"Let's take it slow. That's a start."
༻✦༺  ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺ It was late at night. You were sitting on the couch in Satoru's big living room. You were watching a movie, he was begging to show you.
And for the first time since that night you were relaxed and all the exhaustion fell from you. Your head fell onto his shoulder, any feel of shame was long gone from being so tired.
He didn't move as you were drifting into your long awaited sleep.
"Hey, can you hear me?" he was whispering as you hummed.
"I still want to apologize. For not appearing to any arrangement meetings. I never did that."
His shoulder was really soft and you felt so heavy.
"I hope you sleep well, sweetheart. You deserve it more than anyone."
༻✦༺  ༻✧༺ ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺
Ongoing Taglist (wanna be added? Just say so in the comments, it's no problem!):
@zoeyflower @bubera974 @ssetsuka @lady-of-blossoms @peqch-pie
@karlaolea @slut-for-fictional-men @tnt-kokoo @gojoscumslut @sillyfreakfanparty
@tbzzluvr
@emi311 @the-number7 @o-ikawaii @doodle-cat16 @yozora7154
@levisfavoriteteashop @roscpctals99 @starlightglimmersworld @manyuyuu
@dahliawarner @aliisinwonderland @lov3vivian @inthedarkshadows000
@haikyuusimpsblog @sheismaryy @asahinasstuff @honeydew-cheesecake
@sanriosatoru @kimsrie @444na0m1 @humongousdreamlandbear
@elitesanjisimp @dummyf @elernity
@s4ikooo1 @roseyposeylemonsquozey @shitforbrainsmal
@mo0nforme @local-mr-frog @lovemiss-vale @1234ilikecowsthanyoumore
@holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni @meowforluv @rirk-ke
@certainduckanchor @uknowimdumb @smolbeanzzz @deliciouslydeliciouspenguin
@bloopsstuff @rnriz @saihar4s @m3ntally-unstable @feyrfly
@ughbitchasspussy @cherubsptals @allthestarsarecloserrrrrrr @thatglamourist
@kujofam @sakusas-sugarbaby @konigswifeyforlifey @duh-nik
@alinasromanova @miizuzu @cgmajor @reactwithjan @mereniss
@seungminsapuppy @junslay @melonmako @staarflowerr
@kiarathace @ghost-buddies @poopypipi @somestardeww
@oneofthesevensins @teramisuyhin @bloomingwitch @tedbunny333
@berryjuicyy @pretty-bandzz @itspapachulo @mo0sin
@puppiesarethebestuniverse-blog @sukunaspillow @genshingeeksworld
@prettytemis @stuckinmoilalaland @justanotherkpopstanlol @nexyboo
@nothegemstone @adszssss @surelynotaspider @catwalkerluv
@sakurayashiro @flooftoof @animechick555 @suga-eloian @meepmoopbadabeepboop
319 notes · View notes
wonsroyalty · 2 days ago
Text
it's okay, i'm okay : ̗̀➛이희승
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
i don't want him anyway, girl, take him..
✧heeseung x f!reader
genre/warnings: 3.8k, i don’t want to give too much away :0 but angst, relationship, cheating, shouting, sex, fighting, mentions of wishing death. this in no way shape or form represents heeseung, it's purely fictional!
a/n: i’m obsessed with this song omg + i listened to white ferrari (it’s my cry song 😕) at one point while writing this so theres a few references AND i was listening to the new tyler album so if it’s not sad enough it’s because i was so excited 😭😭 ooo and the favourite song choice is from those playlists that enha made at the start of the romance untold era 🔥🔥 for @sofsofenso my no.1 fan, mwah 😽 i hope you like it !!
Tumblr media
"I. Love. You. So. Fucking. Much." he kissed you between each word.
Your chest was heavy as you held his weight on your stomach but you managed to laugh at his actions.
"We'll be together forever right?" you held your pinky out.
"Forever and ever!" he crossed his own with yours.
Heeseung Lee wasn’t dead but you truly wished he was.
Your naive 11-year-old heart truly believed that you'd be with him forever. He was your first everything.
You were that cheesy couple in the group that everyone believed would get married and have kids and stay together till you were old and grey.
Too bad, considering your luck was always terrible and you had attracted the devil's spawn.
The fleeting moments of you sneaking him into your room, the lingering touches you shared and the overall thought of his existence skated around the interior of your brain.
You desperately wanted to get rid of them but they brought a sense of comfort that only he could fill.
"I think you might be my soulmate.." he trailed off.
"Hee!" you scolded him. "Wait until after we meet your parents."
You smoothed down your black skirt, checking your outfit in the mirror one last time.
He helped you into his red leather jacket before pulling you into his embrace.
"Heeseung!"
"Okay, okay baby." he pulled away. "Let me get a picture before we go,"
The flash of his polaroid camera captured your smitten expression as he kissed your cheek.
His parents loved you, they claimed that their son had a glow around him whenever he was with you.
"Oh my, sorry. I can't focus when I look into your eyes, pretty." Heeseung whispered.
You lightly hit his chest. "I was telling you to look at this."
"Wait, new lockscreen and it's still me!" he got up and did a little dance.
"Yeah, but that not what I- "
He picked you up and twirled you around before attacking you with tickles.
"Stop, stop!"
"Tell me how much you love me and I'll stop." he cackled.
"I love you, so much, Hee." you collapsed onto his bed in a fit of giggles.
He flopped down next to you and pulled you into his chest.
"You really are my soulmate."
What a bunch of crap.
"Yn.. don't look but she's.. over there." Winter glared in the direction of the girl who was partly responsible for the end of your relationship.
Keeho rested an arm around your shoulder as he showed you around the party.
"You're so drunk already." You laughed at him. “Again.”
It was common for Keeho to get heavily drunk at pre’s and every time he said he would stop but just didn’t follow through.
"AM not." he pouted.
The two of you walked over to your friends.
"Where's your man?" Sungchan laughed behind his cup.
"We're not always together." you grumbled.
His comment did make you curious though as you had both made your way to the party separately.
Your grandfather was sick and you wanted to visit him in the hospital before making your way to Keeho's 19th, so you had told Heeseung he could meet you whenever he got there.
Chenle told you that he'd seen him in the kitchen earlier so they all followed you there.
"Heeseung! What the fuck!" you shouted.
Yunjin was pressed up against your boyfriend who had a hand in her hair. They were about an inch away from kissing but judging by the gloss on his lips, you could tell that they already had.
He gently pushed her away with a laugh.
"Baby, hey." he waved to your friends too.
"What is your problem?!"
You pushed him away as he got closer to you.
He grabbed your arm and pulled you out of the kitchen.
"Guys.." Winter called after you.
His feet stopped once you were inside a bathroom.
"I've never seen you that mad before, pretty." he laughed.
"Let me out."
"No way... you're actually jealous."
Your jaw dropped.
"I'm not jealous, I'm breaking up with you."
"No, you're not." His face dropped. “Your emotions are high right now because your grandfather is sick. Don’t let that cloud your judgement.”
All you could do was look away because you believed his words.
"Come on, let's talk about this." he attempted to kiss you.
"Get off! You've clearly kissed someone else tonight and you expect me to want to stay with you despite you cheating."
This wasn't even the first time you'd caught him “cheating” on you.
He laughed in your face.
"This isn't Yunjin's lip combo." he joked.
"Well, it's someone's isn't it?" you frowned.
"So, you're gonna throw away 9 years because you don't trust me?" he calmed down.
Spolier! He'd convinced you to stay with him once again!
You remember the disappointed looks from all of your friends when you walked out with his arm around you.
They weren’t the only people who began to warn you about Heeseung.
Every new person you’d interacted with told you that he was bad news but you reassured them that he was just getting used to university.
He seemed to switch as soon as you’d gotten to uni, badmouthing you to his friends, staying out late, missing dates, ignoring you and each time you’d take him back.
You even took him back when you walked into the lunch area and caught him kissing your seat-mate from Politics.
Your best friends didn’t speak to you for a week after that one.
But you’d become desensitised to the feeling you got when you’d catch him. Taking him back immediately saved you from having to argue with him and you were tired.
Tired from the stress of your degree and having to deal with Heeseung.
Everywhere you went, you received looks of pity. No one envied you for being in a relationship with Heeseung, they all felt sorry for you.
You continued to defend him and every time he’d act out and chip off a piece of your heart, leaving you embarrassed and scared.
“Hee is my soulmate.” you reiterated.
Heeseung was all you ever wanted.
He was all you’d ever known.
Hee was your first everything.
Letting him go, would be losing a part of yourself and you weren’t quite sure if you were capable of doing that yet.
But four months later at the same house you'd been pushed to your limit.
“Great to see that you aren’t as drunk as last time.” Chenle poked at Keeho.
“I’m on lookout, Jiung smashed my dining room table last time.” He rolled his eyes.
“Yn!” someone turned you around.
“Hey, Yunjin.” you all sighed.
“Where’s Heeseung?” she pouted.
You really didn’t know and you were tired of people asking you that.
“I don’t know, go find him if you want.” you shrugged.
You had every reason to be mad at him.
It was your 10-year anniversary and you hadn’t done anything to celebrate together.
The party was his idea of “having a fun anniversary”.
“Yunjin, don’t come over to kill the vibe.” Sungchan groaned.
“Fine.” she grumbled.
On her way past you, she pretended to trip in order to dump her drink down your front.
“Shit.” you ran off to a bathroom in order to get the ice out of your bra, not even stopping to hear Winter scold Yunjin.
Most of them were locked so you opted for the one in Keeho’s bedroom.
On the verge of tears, you attempted to calm yourself down and get a shirt from his walk in wardrobe.
You threw on a jersey that matched with your jeans and were on your way out when someone came into the main area of the room.
“Finally, I’ve been looking for you for ages.” a girl giggled.
‘What is Yunjin doing here?’
“Well, I’m a busy man.”
‘Heeseung?! What kind of a sick joke was this?’
“Ugh don’t remind me. I asked Yn where you were and she literally said she didn’t care.”
‘I didn’t say that??’
“What?” Heeseung sounded confused.
“Enough about her, I’m right here. And we have all the time in the world.”
You could hear her kiss him.
The same lips that had spent countless hours pressed against your own.
The same lips that spoke promises of fulfilment and expressed their gratitude towards you.
The same lips that whispered words of encouragement when it was just the two of you, late at night while you gave yourself to him.
You felt disgusted.
Heeseung Lee wasn’t dead, but you truly wished he was. You wanted him to suffer an unspeakable fate for hurting you but every time you thought of him, you couldn’t bear the thought of having to live without him.
The remaining fragments of your heart fell into the palm of your hand. There was nothing to fight for anymore.
You should’ve moved long before the moans reached your ear but you were frozen in shock.
‘Is this what people warned me of.’ you panicked. ‘I should’ve never let it get this far.”
Your feet didn’t wait and moved involuntarily as you gave away your hiding spot.
You needed to see it for yourself.
The tears that you’d been holding in for months fell down your cheeks.
“I can’t do this- not today.”
Pushing past them you ran downstairs and out the doors, attracting the attention of your friends.
“Yn? What, wait!” Heeseung shouted, running after you as he slipped his clothes back on.
He grabbed your arm pulling you back into his embrace.
You shoved him away violently this time.
“Baby, I’m sorry.”
“You can’t keep saying you’re sorry and then acting out and embarrassing me every. single. time. I’m fed up Heeseung, I am done with you for good. The pain I feel just from loving you is a burden that I shouldn’t have to face anymore. I love you so much, Hee- Heeseung.” You cried as you pushed him away again. “I care so much, but it’s clear that my best just wasn’t enough for you. I’m sure that- that in another life we’d be happy.. but in this one I just don’t think that’s possible.”
“Yn, no. I’ll fix this.. I’ll fix us and I- I’ll change my ways. Just- please.” he trembled. “I wanted- I want to spend my life with you.. I can’t lose you. You can’t leave me. You’re all I’ve ever known.”
“Well that’s not true,” you sobbed. “I don’t trust you anymore.”
“Baby, why.” he grabbed your hands. “Why don’t you trust me anymore? What do I have to do to get you to trust me again.. I’ll do anything for you. I love you..”
You could see your friends in your peripheral vision watching in concern. Waiting to intervene.
“Can I ask you something?” you stared him in the eye. “I need you to answer honestly.”
“Anything!” he pleaded, tears running down his face. “Ask me anything.”
“Why did you do it time after time?” you watched him deny his acts.
“Sieun told me. You were with Yunjin, Aya, Kate. You even tried it on my Winter and she’s my best friend, Mia, Yeji, Aeri.. I can’t.” The tears fell again.
“None of them compare to you.. Baby, please don’t leave.” he tried getting closer to you. “When I look at you all I see is my soulmate. I care for you still and I will, forever.”
“Well, I look at you… and I see nothing.”
For once, he didn’t even try to fight back.
The rest of the night was a blur.
Sungchan punched him and Winter took you home as you cried for days to come.
You waited by the phone for a text or even a call with an apology but days passed then weeks which turned into months.
There was an odd sense of comfort in knowing that he knew he was in the wrong but all you wanted to do was have him hold you and tell you that everything would be alright.
Yunjin waited for her coffee to be made as she looked down at her phone.
"I.. You know what.. I don't care." you leaned back in your chair.
You didn’t know if she was still dating him, and you didn’t want to.
Chenle gasped.
"Are you being real right now?" He pressed. "This is new territory."
You nodded.
Winter suddenly began to look uncomfortable.
"Coming.. over.. here." she muttered out.
"Yn!" Yunjin screeched. “You’re going to Keeho’s party tonight right?”
“Yeah.. Surprised that you are too, you know.”
She pointed at herself confused.
“I didn’t know you were friends with Keeho.” you pointed.
“Oh, I’m not. I’m someone’s plus one.” she looked away bashfully.
“That’s not a problem.” you shrugged it off. “We’re all there to get wasted anyway.”
She mistook your lack of anger as friendship.
“Well, hope I see you later.” she waved, taking off as her order was called up.
“I don’t.” Chenle groaned.
You looked at the time on your phone.
“Cute lockscreen.” Winter giggled.
It was a picture of you, her, Chenle, Sungchan and Keeho on holiday together.
That was the summer after you and Heeseung broke up.
“It is so hot here.” Winter fanned herself.
“That’s because you’re stood out on the balcony.” Sungchan laughed.
Everyone else lounged around your hotel room.
You were still a mess.
They were trying to distract you from anything and everything and while you appreciated the thought, you just wanted Heeseung back.
Your phone was connected to Keeho’s speaker, blasting some songs that you weren’t paying attention to.
A familiar intro snapped you out of your trance and you immediately reached for your phone.
“No- No, Yn give me that.” Chenle snatched the phone out of your hands.
You’d pressed onto Heeseung’s contact and were in the process of typing out ‘I miss you…’
You remembered what Heeseung told you the first time. “Sincerity is scary by the 1975. Whenever I hear the song, I think of you.” he shrugged. “I guess that’s why it’s my favourite.”
All it took was one song, his favourite song, and you fell back into the rhythm that they were trying to get you out of.
“Come on.” Keeho smiled as he helped you up. “Let’s go out, it’s not every day that you get to be in Hawaii!
Now two years had passed.
You were in the final year of your Bachelor’s degree, with employment lined up for you to work under a United Nations representative as you studied for your Masters.
Winter was going off to Paris to work as a designer for a luxury brand, Chenle was already earning 6 figures as an accountant while studying, Keeho and Sungchan were both planning a gap year before going into business and engineering respectively.
Your best friends, all going their separate ways. You couldn’t bear the thought.
You loved them like no other and having to deal with life’s problems alone didn’t seem too great.
Together you’d created a calendar to show whenever someone was free and had planned several group holidays to come.
Spending winter in Paris with Winter, spring break in the Philippines with Keeho and Sungchan and several mini trips in summer with Chenle.
“Cheers!” Keeho shouted.
“What are we cheering to?” you laughed.
“Us… duh!”
You’d all settled on the conservatory sofa, away from the noise and people at the party.
“We have 5 months left, don’t get sappy.” Sungchan smiled.
“Well if you think about it, it’ll be over in no time.” Winter looked deep in thought. “We’ve been friends for 19 years now and those flew by.”
19 years..
It didn’t take long for you all to realise that you really didn’t have a lot of time left in your bubble.
Having to face the real world without your found family was difficult.
“I don’t want to leave you guys.” Chenle cried into your side as you all hugged each other.
“Please don’t be a stranger guys,” Keeho sobbed. “Weekly group facetime calls, weekend trips..”
“I want postcards.” you wailed. “From your world trip.”
“You’ll all get them.” Sungchan bawled.
“Remember in nursery when- when Chenle started that paint fight and we all got scolded by the teacher.” Winter laughed with a sniffle.
Laughter broke out across the group.
You had the picture on your childhood bedroom wall. The four-year-old versions of yourselves covered head to toe and looking guilty.
Time really does fly by.
“I love you guys.”
The moment was cut short when Jiung stumbled into the room.
“Hey!”
“Not me!”
Chenle dove out of the way and you ended up covered in Jiung’s drink.
“Why does everyone put ice in their drinks!” you wined. “I’m going to steal a shirt, Keeho.”
You left the group as they arranged a ride home for Jiung and looked for a change of clothes in Keeho’s wardrobe.
Slipping a shirt on, you left his room but realised you’d wanted to use the bathroom.
There was another down the hall anyway.
You were in the process of washing your hands when you noticed the song seeping through the gap under the door.
“Sincerity is scary by the 1975.”
But you didn’t have an urge to text him.
The door flung open.
‘Why!’ you groaned.
“Ba- Yn..” he tilted his head. “You look better.”
“Please leave, Heeseung.”
You hated how he looked even better.
“Why are you looking at me like that..” you whined.
You hated how your whole being shut down as soon as you were close to him. The past two years went out of the window.
“Like what?” he whispered.
“You know we can’t..” you trailed off.
He took several steps closer to you and you hesitated to breathe.
“We’re not doing anything.” his eyes were very much focused on your lips.
Winter’s voice rang out in your head.
“Don’t tell the guys.. but if you ever end up in the same place as him, I think you should get closure. It’ll help you move on.”
You let him kiss you.
When he pulled away you brought him back, kissing his lips with a hunger you’d never had before.
He pulled you up by the waist and placed you on the bathroom counter, fingers immediately making their way under your skirt.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“One last time.” you confirmed before kissing him again with even more passion.
“Fuck, you’re so wet.” he pulled down your underwear and began to lap at your cunt.
Your hands grasped at his now red hair, as your head fell back against the mirror with a gasp.
He knew you like the back of his hand and you were ashamed to reach your climax so fast as he worked your insides with precision and memory.
“Fuck.. Hee- Heeseung, I’m gonna cum.” you moaned out.
“Cum for me, pretty. You did so well,” he praised as he rubbed your clit.
The nickname and intensity of your orgasm did a number on you.
You felt lightheaded as he kissed you breathlessly before reaching into his pocket to pull out a condom.
‘Thank God, he got the message. One last time.’ you thought. It felt too intimate to let him fuck you raw.
Your fingers made light work of discarding his belt and jeans so you could pull his boxers down teasingly slowly.
“Baby, please..” he whined.
You slid off the counter and onto your knees, immediately taking him into your mouth.
Your muscles moved like clockwork, memory working overtime as you pushed his buttons the way he always loved.
“Not yet..” he whimpered.
He pulled your head off his dick and helped you stand up then bent you over the counter.
You watched in the mirror as he rolled the condom on and then rubbed his length on the slick of your release.
“Heeseung,” you whined as he nudged your clit with his tip.
“All in one?” he asked you.
You nodded.
He sheathed himself into you in one go.
Feeling as though you could cum then and there, you slumped onto the surface in front of you.
Heeseung grabbed your hair and forced you to watch him in the mirror.
Once you made eye contact, you became fully aware of the situation you were in.
You cried out as he slapped your ass before slamming into you from behind.
The moans leaving your lips and whines leaving his would be heard by everyone if the music wasn’t so loud.
He knew exactly what to do and you didn’t even have to tell him what pace to go at, he remembered.
“Hee! Right there.” you cried out. “R- Right there.”
“I’m so close.” he cried. “Shit..”
“Me too.” you held your hand out.
Heeseung grabbed your outstretched hand as you came together.
Silence overcame you both as he threw the condom into the bin and helped clean you up.
He tried to kiss you again.
You looked away.
It was clear that he had just cried but so had you.
The tension and emotion you had for each other was too strong.
“I’m sorry.” he croaked out. “I’m so sorry.”
Your arms pulled him into your embrace.
“It’s okay.”
He pulled back slightly and kissed you again.
This time it was light and if you weren’t paying attention, it would’ve felt as though he was never there.
You wiped his tears away before your own.
“Do you ever think about what life would be like for us, if things were different..?” he asked.
Someone burst into the room.
“You bitch!” Yunjin shouted at you.
It wasn’t hard to assume that you’d just had sex with the smell lingering in the room and the mirror fogged up.
“Huh?” you looked at Heeseung to explain.
“Wait, Yn- ”
You laughed in pain.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
You’d just helped him do what broke your heart in the first place.
Instead of sadness or anger you just felt done.
“We were just talking.” you lied.
You weren’t covering for him. You knew that he needed the closure as much as you did but ultimately you were trying to save your own skin.
Yunjin looked furious.
“You can have him.” she seethed. “I should’ve known that he’d never get over you. But I didn’t think that you’d try to get at him.”
“Girl, take him. He’s yours.” you put your hands up, signalling that you were finished with whatever was going on. “I had him in the first place, I don’t want him anymore.”
You felt bad talking about Heeseung like he was an object while he was right in front of you but you pushed that aside.
“No-!” she frowned.
“I don’t want him anyway,” you turned to leave. “Girl take him.”
Yunjin didn’t even try to fight it.
She seemed shocked that you’d given up so easily.
“Heeseung,” you started. “To answer your question, I did. But I learned not to expect much from you.”
Heeseung Lee wasn’t dead, but you no longer cared enough to wish he was.
THE END.
263 notes · View notes
cherryheairt · 16 hours ago
Text
Hidden Truths pt.2
Cregan x wife!reader
named reader no description, from house Glover
masterlist
part 1
thank y'all so much for the kind words and eagerness to see this part. Please forgive me for not replying to all asks being sent to inbox, you'll understand with the chap lol. The pressure was so real I had planned to write other things between pt 1 and 2 but I dropped everything to do this between work and sleep lol
changed the og ending because so many people thought it would be more fitting and I agreed lol
anon pointed out my mistake on glover and bolton im so sorry for that confusion yall it is meant to be glover originally. i made too many mistakes im a mess rn
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Ernest makes it to Cregan's solar first, Ron not far on his heels. Panting, the younger speaks up first when Cregan Stark shoots them a bewildered look whilst hunched over his oak desk.
"Was Lady Stark due for some business today, My Lord?" He asked, catching his breath as Cregan sat up in his seat, attention fully on the guards.
"Not any that I'm aware of. Where is my wife?" He asked, glancing outside of his small window to the blistering storm outside. There was no way she would be anywhere except her chambers—not after he caught her soothing Brandon to sleep. The sight had melted his heart immediately, glad to see his wife finally finding it in her to go see him, to give him a chance.
Though, he could not blame her, of course. He could still remember the day he brought the Stark babe home, and how he dreaded the meet throughout his months of journeying home to Winterfell.
Aelys had been on the forefront of his mind, even through the slimy politicking of King's Landing. The wait was only made ever longer by the fact that the party Cregan traveled North with had to wait until Brandon was old enough to travel, too. Moons went by painstakingly slow, and Cregan moved to load the carriage for the boy as soon as the Maester gave his word that Bran would not be suseptible to the outdoors during long durations on the road.
Cregan dismounted his grey mare, patting her on the neck in thanks before the stable boy guided her back to her designated place. With a tense sigh, he rolled his shoulders and opened the carriage door that held Brandon and his new wet nurse. Sara, his older sister, would join the family in a few short weeks while she continued her stay at the Blackwood's. He wished she was here to console his wife in the coming days. Gods know that he cannot, not when the news of his betrayal had to come from his own mouth. As he promised himself it should be. The sinner should say his own penance, no one else. A Stark is a slave to his oaths.
Thanking Greya kindly, Cregan picked up Bran in his arms. His onyx black curls shifted against the crook of his arm as he shifted the babe to be held better. The four moon-old babe fussed as he was removed from the woman's comforting hold. As if was, Cregan was more of a stranger to the young babe than his wet nurse was. Unfortunately, the Lord had not spent the amount of time with him as he knew he should have. The thoughts and guilt racked up in his mind and burned at the back of his throat every day, leaving Cregan to promise himself that in Winterfell he would spend more time with him.
Another promise for the list.
Cregan stepped through the courtyard's archway, holding his breath as he watched his beautiful wife standing by the Keep's doors, shivering but still insisting that she come out to meet her husband. Her smile was as lovely and bright as he remembered, a much more contented and relieved smile than she had sent him off to battle with. That day, she could hardly stifle her tears back as she hugged him 'goodbye'. He felt quite the same. Cregan would never leave for Southern business again, not in his lifetime. Once had been enough to last generations, though he was sure the Stark family would not go too long before being summoned again.
Her face shifted from joy to confusion in a matter of seconds. As Cregan continued straight towards her, Bran bundled up in so many wools and pelts that it entirely engulfed the babe. She lifted her skirts to step down to meet him. Originally, Cregan had wished to scoop her up in his arms and place a sweet kiss on her cold lips, but the bundle between them prevented such things. He could not greet her so sweetly and then present the bastard to her. Ripping the bandage off a fresh wound, Cregan would not be deceitful for longer than he had been during his moons of silence in the South.
"Husband," She smiled, reaching out to touch his chilled face, pink in the cheeks and ears from exposure. "You should come inside. A feast has been prepared for you—and your men, of course." She was antsy on her feet, eager to get inside to proper reunite with her husband, no bystanders gawking.
Speaking of bystanders—Cregan's entire party had separated and dispersed around the courtyard. They met their own wives, parents, or children as they laughed and conversed. Though, the loud and joyous clamor soon died down when whispers had been spread around by those who already knew of Cregan's boy. Wives that knew Aelys well stared in pity, clutching their shawls to their chests and shaking their heads quietly at their Lord.
He fought the urge to hang his head.
She had not yet seen the babe, only the cloth surrounding him.
"Cregan?" She whispered, tilting her head with concerned eyes. "What is wrong?" His sweet, sweet wife. Her first priority had been him over anything since the days of their honeymoon—the days she had confessed to be extremely anxious about during their courtship. She was a Northern woman herself, hardened and shaped like an ice sculpture but retaining her warm heart and spirit. Cregan had intimidated her greatly, according to her giggling confession, and she had feared he may be a cruel and selfish man since he could easily do as he wished to his Lady wife. He proved her wrong, apparently, getting to know his wife throughout their private honeymoon. They had a bond like no other, always at each other's side and filling in for the weaknesses of the other during their duties as leaders.
Cregan's brow furrowed deep, blinking away as he felt his nose start to sting.
Only then, when his glossy eyes met hers silently, did she glance down to the cloths. Slowly reaching up a shaky, gloved hand adjusted the pelts so she could peer past them. Gasping at the pale babe, Aelys' eyes sharply met his. A million thoughts raced through her head, clearly showing in her facial expressions. Not assuming the worst, as she probably should have done, Aelys asked, "has one of your men died? Is this babe an orphan?" Always so trusting of her Lord husband, something Cregan had admired and was eternally grateful for throughout their marriage.
"Aelys..." He cleared his throat when his voice came out much too quiet and hoarse. "This is my son." He declared to her, and to the onlooking crowd who did not bother hiding scandalized gasps.
Her eyes blinked in rapid succession, shaking her head lightly and smiling. "Don't jest, Cregan. We have no son."
His silence met her words. When he did not cave and admit to messing with his wife, Aelys shook her head more firmly. "No." She said, whispering. Her eyes clamped shut as she breathed in and out deeply, only opening to glance down at the babe, scrutinizing its appearing and comparing every freckle to Cregan's. "Don't do this to me, please. You would never do this to me." Her words were nearly lost to the air.
"It was one time, I swear it on my honor and Stark name." Cregan told her.
"On your name?" She harshly bit, stepping away from Cregan as if he had burned her. "Your honor? You swore on your honor the day we said our vows under the Weirwood tree. Under OUR Gods. Did that mean nothing to you? Did I—" She gasped out, covering her mouth with the back of her hand and clutching her stomach. A choking sob rippled through her, and Greya stepped forward to gingerly take Brandon from Cregan's grasp. His arms fell to his side, clenching as he stopped himself from holding his wife in comfort. She could find no solace in the man who hurt her so.
"I thought you wished to wait. You told me you wanted it, too. Was it just not me you wanted a family with?" She asked, cranking her neck up to look at her shameful husband.
"Aelys, I did—I do!" He started, stepping forward to wipe a hot tear from her cheek.
Flinching away from his touch, she looked up at him with the same mistrust and solemn acceptance that he found in a dying prey's eyes. Suddenly, Aelys looked to become aware of the crowd. Glancing around self-consciously, she straightened herself upright like the people expected of a Lady Stark. "The feast is growing cold. Enjoy it while it's warm." She loudly adressed the weary party and their families, who awkwardly moved to shuffle inside the dining hall. With a final glance past Cregan's shoulder to the wet nurse, Aelys was gone.
Seeing the shared glances of horror between the two, Cregan cleared his throat. "Where is my wife, boys?"
Ernest swallowed harshly, not daring to look him in the eye. "She—she said that she 'ad business in Winter Town. That you approved of it, I swear!"
Ron nodded so quickly that his head of curls messed about and framed his face further. The snow still on their heads and shoulders had now melted in the warmth of the Great Keep, reminding Cregan of the harsh weather the guards had to bear all day. They were trained and honed for such conditions, Aelys was not.
"Yes, Lord Stark! We couldn't disobey our Lady's words." He insisted.
"You think I'd make my wife go settle business in Winter Town during a blizzard?" He growled out, standing from his seat and storming between them to his doorway, where he turned on them and saw them both flinch in shock. "Which way did she go?"
"Uhm..." they shared another glance. "She said Winter Town, Lord Stark. What other way would she have gone?"
Cursing, Cregan grabbed Ice and lifted the great sword to his shoulder. He left without another word to anybody, knowing every second counted when it came to finding her. "Bloody fools." He scoffed to himself, mind turning and thinking of places she might head to.
Clearly, not Winter Town. She had no business there, not that he knew of, and although they had not been speaking these past moons he still oversaw all of her duties as Lady. Though, her reports of dealings and responsibilities was done through the Maester rather than her own mouth. A middleman, the poor elder had become. Cregan endured the silence without complaint, knowing his own actions brought it upon him.
His actions brought her further away from him than he perhaps estimated. He knew the babe would tear a rift in their relationship, and knew it would take a long time before they could even begin to mend it—but he never wanted it to go this far.
Back to her childhood home, to the Glovers in the Motte? Or, perhaps she found a secret lover that would meet her in the storm like a destined and tragic fairytale. He would not blame her for seeking love in another, though his never faded.
His quickened pace was only interrupted by Sara. "What is the rush for, brother?" The elder woman asked, dark brows furrowed with concern. Other the past four moons she had gained her strength back, looking the picture of health now that she was back home and recovering. Cregan could barely meet her gaze, looking between her and the doors ahead.
"My wife is gone." He told her honestly, shifting impaitiently in place. "I don't know where to, but I'm going to search for her."
Sara's dark eyes saddened, face scrunching up in grief. "This is my fault. I should have—"
Cregan stopped her immediately, taking her firmly by the shoulders and dipping his neck down to level himself. "No. It is mine alone. I made the choice to do this, I shall face the consequences of my actions."
"Cregan..." she sniffed, but did not allow tears to fall so easily.
"I'll be back." He promised. "With my wife."
Was she running away?
Cregan swung open the Great Keep's door, blinking staggardly at the wind gust that slammed into him. Not bothing to close it behind him, Cregan stormed to the stables and tacked his horse up. In a matter of minutes he was off and out of Winterfell's expansive walls.
His only option was to head towards Glover territory. It was a two days ride normally, but the storm would make it double or perhaps longer. She would not be far ahead, not even two hours ahead of Cregan and unknowing of how close he might be on her trail.
There were not even hoofprints left in her wake. The snow immediately covered all tracks and left only pristine fields of white powdery frost.
He would not know where she was until he spotted her amongst the white. Cobalt, her black stallion, was sure to stand out within close enough distance.
Until he did see her, he could only wait.
And it was exactly that; a waiting game. Cregan took only three days to reach the Deepwood Motte, faster than he anticipated. He was weary and exhausted, but still pumping with adrenaline and awake off sheer will. Here, in the safe walls of Harriston Glover's keep, his mare could finally have more than a few measly hours of rest, as well as food and water.
His fingers and toes burned with the edges of frostbite. Even in his thick protective gear, he was not entirely safe. The few, small fires that he built for himself in the cold nights gave him only a semblance of warmth. Each step felt like five as his vision blurred and weaned in and out. He steadied himself on a pole, waiting for his father-in-law to come downstairs to greet him. And, if luck be on his side, his Lady wife.
He owed more than an apology.
Harriston was a stern man, though not unreasonable. He loved his children and ensured they had only the best; education, caretakers, spouses. His eldest two children married long before Aelys was even of age to be wed, both men marrying Northern girls that they'd grown up with. When it came to his youngest and only girl, the man knew Lord Stark would be a most auspicious match. The Houses had long been friends and allies, and keeping the tradition of partnership thriving through marriage was no strange thing. He'd been even happier when Aelys wrote to him weekly, describing how enchanted she had been with her new husband and thanking him profusely for giving her a blessed match.
Now, the greyed man stood in front of Cregan with a deepset frown and a fierce look in his eyes. "Lord Stark. I thought you'd be busy in Winterfell."
Cregan cleared his throat, focusing on him intently. It made sense that the man was cross with him, especially after he assumed that Aelys had sent him a few lengthy letters telling of Cregan's infidelity. "I came to see my wife, and to bring her back home."
Harriston huffed a sarcastic laugh. "You send her back home, only to come yourself first?" He gestured around with his arms up.
Cregan tensed, "first? Is Aelys not already here?"
Lord Glover matched in his seriousness. "Aelys wrote to me three days ago, informing me that you had sent her here to be away from danger."
"I did not send her anywhere."
"You mean you do not know where my daughter is?" He asked, voice low and firm as he stepped closer. Though Harriston was a fine swordsman and a battle-worn fighter, Cregan did not fear the Lord's wrath, for he could easily best him in combat.
He did, however, have the brains to fear a furious father's vengeance.
His heart nearly beat out of his chest. "And she stated that she was on her way here?"
"I think I know what she said, boy." Lord Glover hissed. "Where is Aelys?"
"She must still be out there," Cregan murmured breathlessly, turning on his heel and running out of the fort's doors and back out to the stables. Cobalt was in none of them, confirmed to him that Lord Glover was not simply lying and hiding his wife away from him.
Cregan decided to take another horse—one well rested and ready to travel in the packed snow, unlike his own weary mare. Guiding it to the doors where Lord Glover had exited and looked at Cregan with a fear unlike the learned man usually expressed, he asked: Where are the kennels?"
Tumblr media
When Aelys left to brave the storm alone, she had not anticipated the sheer unforgivable nature of it. Living in the North her whole life, she'd long grown used to cold weather and hunting for herself. Hunts often lasted days or weeks, being times of comraderie and companionship when out in the wilderness with your people. She had not been hunting in years, much less alone.
The snow had slowed her travel significantly and clouded her navigational judgment. North became South, and East became West after so long of walking. With the skies so darkened, it was even harder to tell the time of day. With every stop she made and every fire that burnt out too quickly for her to be fully warm, Aelys had grown desperate.
She found shelter in a half-conscious act to preserve her on life. Now, curled up with only her fur-lined dress and the pelt she had brought from Winterfell, she could not help but begin to accept that she would die in this cave.
Aelys thought of her life in a few curt thoughts.
She had only lived twenty and two years. She grew up with loving parents and two elder brothers who doted on her greatly. She married Lord Stark of Winterfell, someone who took her heart quicker than she'd ever thought possible. She would die here, alone and cold because of him.
She thought of all the things she had wanted from life. Not much, for a Lord's daughter. Aelys had always wanted love and gave love in return. Trusted perhaps too much and did not gain from it. She wished for children, eventually, and could never have them now. She wished to see the warm deserts of Dorne and the lush gardens of Old Town in her retirement.
Aelys Bolton would not see anything but the North, nothing but the cold snow and frost-tippes trees around. They had grown familiar and warm.
Warm.
She was so warm, now.
Aelys closed her eyes and fell asleep, dreaming of better days.
"You do not wish to return home to a babe in the nursery?" Aelys asked, voice low and humming as Cregan lay beneath her on their shared bed. Most men did, misliking the process of pregnacy but loving the outcome, for it could only serve to benefit them.
"We will have plenty of time for babes when I come back to you." He replied, brushing his lips over her the crown of her head. "What kind of husband would I be if I left you to deal with the struggles of pregnancy and birth all alone?"
"I won't be alone. Sara is staying, too. I will have a sister to keep me company and complain all my grievances about my missing husband to her." She said amusedly.
Cregan paused in his rhythmic stoking of her spine. "Sara has asked to come, my heart."
She paused, too, lifting her head from his chest and squinting at him. "Sara can come down to King's Landing with you, but I cannot?"
He sighed, shaking his head. "She will be staying at the Blackwood's residence at Raventree Hall, not King's Landing. I would never endanger either of you by bringing you to the capitol. She has been offered guest housing by her friend, Alysanne Blackwood, during my time down there."
She huffed, conceding to his words and dropping her head back down, listening again to his ever-steady heartbeat. "Must be nice to see the Riverlands." She said lightly. "I hear they have fields of flowers growing year-round."
"And the permanent smell of fish and mildew." Cregan added with a snort. "You're not missing anything, I swear it to you. Sara and I will be gone for a short period of time. I intend to leave as soon as things are settled and put to rest."
Aelys hummed her quiet acknowledgment. There was no argument to be had, not when Cregan was set to leave in the morning. "There must always be a Stark in Winterfell." She said cheekily, though there was plenty truth to the statement. Alone, she would serve as political head to Winterfell and the temporary 'Warden' while Cregan was missing in action. She had her advisors, consisting of Cregan's trusted councilmen, but the hole that she knew would sink itself into her heart already wore her into her.
Cregan laughed at her words, nodding. "Aye, my love, you will do perfectly. I'm sorry to leave you alone for so long, but I have no doubt you'll do great." He said proudly, kissing her nose. She scrunched it up at the ticklish feeling, allowing a girlish giggle to leave her throat.
"Don't be gone too long, husband. Your wife needs you here." She said, tilting her head up to meet his lips.
"I would never dream of it."
The moons passed by with no reprieve for Aelys. As Winterfell's sole head, her days were busy from dawn til dusk. Letters were exchanged sporadically with her husband while he helped Aegon iii ascend to his place on the iron throne.
Until, one day, his letters ceased. It had already been a full year without Cregan Stark, and Aelys was beginning to grow used to the lack of her husband and sister by her side. Routine had grown to be instinct for her, breezing through her duties like she'd done them all her life. The only thing missing was her lover.
Concerned, Aelys checked in with the resident Maester to ensure Cregan's wellbeing.
When he paused, lips pursed and hands clutching at his cane with a stress unlike the calm elder, he rasped out his own fears. "I, too, have received no word from Lord Stark. Though, no news has come of us death in the capitol, so he must simply be occupied."
Occupied at the end of the war? When Aegon had already been named King and all the men put to trial were either declared guilty or innocent? The brunt of the work was over and done with—told by Cregan himself.
So why was he silent for an entire moon?
It was another fortnite before the Stark wrote back to her. The letter was curt and brief.
My dearest Aelys,
Forgive my abrupt silence these past weeks. Please know that you have been on my mind throughout this entire time.
Sara has grown sick in Raventree Hall, and has not been able to travel with the host of men I have sent back home to the North. We will stay behind for another few moons while she is in recovery. I will return to you soon.
With love,
Cregan Stark.
It was shorter than his other letters by many paragraphs, pages even. Cregan left out no details when describing his miserable times in the capitol. Aelys found herself much enjoying his theatrical melodramatic retelling and was rendered bemused by this letter. Still, she continued to lead with no pause for breaks.
Three more moons later, and Cregan wrote that he was mere days away from Winterfell. Without Sara Snow, unfortunately, as she was still not entirely recovered, but his party could be postponed no longer.
Aelys rushed around Winterfell's Keep in a flurry of excitement. She ordered every room to be cleaned spotless, for rations to be saved for days until a feast could be made for their arrival, for hearths to be extra tended to, and for the courtyard to be prepared to clear the way for the host.
Finally, the days of busy bodies floating around the Great Keep came to a stop. The feast was warm and ready at all available tables. The hearths were warm and ready for sleepy heads to rest within the rooms. The tubs were filled with scalding hot water that would warm by the time they were used. Lady Stark stood for hours at the Great Keep's entry stairs in the courtyard.
She wanted to be there exactly when he walked through the archway. Despite the cold biting at her nose, the Lady stood resiliant and tall.
It was nearly in the afternoon when Cregan's party arrived. He came through first, leading as head of the host as any Lord should. A wheelhouse followed, surrounded by a small league of soliders all around it. She bounced on her heels slightly, seeing Cregan dismount from his ride. Though she found herself bemused and slightly hurt when he glanced at her and made his way towards the wheelhouse instead. Had Sara recovered enough to join and perhaps wanted to surprise her good sister? She hoped so, for she had missed her greatly. After growing up with only brothers, Aelys found a best friend and sister in Sara Snow. The whispers about Lady Stark befriending the bastard of Winterfell followed her around like a dark shadow, but she never paid them any mind.
Bastardry had never bothered Aelys before. Not even when she was a woman of noble birth and was taught that bastards were born inherently lustful, evil, and made of sin.
She waited patiently at the top of the steps for Cregan to fetch Sara.
To her surprise, he only pulled out of the carriage with a bundle of clothes in his arms. Pelts and blankets, it seemed. A plainly-dressed woman from the South stepped out after him but stayed trailing behind. A maid of some sort, though she had no clue as to why a Southern maid would need to follow Cregan back to Winterfell.
As he strided towards her, a strange and unhappy look on his face, she forced her anxiety back down her throat and raced to meet him. "Husband," she greeted with a smile. "You should come inside. A feast has been prepared for you—and your men, of course." Reaching out to caress his face and simultaneously brush flecks of snow from his loose hair, she couldn't help but stop to admire her husband's handsome features. It had felt like an eternity that they were separated, and she had begun to forget the full details of his frame. Forgot his scent in the room and his side of the bed. Nearly forgot the warmth that he provided simply from standing nearby.
The very warmth he is giving to her now, in the chilly courtyard.
His eyes appeared to gloss, his nose and cheeks pinking even more so than they had already grown in the biting air. Glancing over Cregan, she assessed quickly for signs of fatigue or illness.
"Cregan?" she asked gently. "What is wrong?" She prayed he did not catch whatever Sara had caught, or hid a wound under his mass of leathers and pelts.
When he shiftly lifted the bundle in his arms to gesture for her to look at it, she finally spared a look to the mysterious ball of cloth. She had completely forgotten about it until now, noticing the maid still behind Cregan a few yards back, head tilted down and looking at her slippers. Peeking over a fur pelt, Aelys gasped at the sight. A babe, only a few moons old by the looks of it. Her mind raced with possibilities. Why would Cregan bring a babe back instead of leaving it in more temperate climates like the Riverlands that he stayed in on the way up North?
"Has one of your men died?" She asked in a hushed tone, assuming first that one of his soldiers perhaps fathered a bastard babe before perishing in a battle or falling to sickness. "Is the babe an orphan?" Cregan did always have a soft spot for younglings, showcased clearly by his time spent personally training young squires of Winterfell. He had lost his own younger brother in their youth, and the hole had never filled from that loss of kin.
"Aelys..." he started, meeting her eyes with a soft and sympathetic look. "This is my son." Was said loud and clear for any listeners to hear.
A jest. Cregan had seldom liked to be humorous in front of crowds, or anyone but herself and Sara, but he must have been in good spirits today. Briefly glancing at the surrounding people, she found only pitiful looks from the women and severe looks from the men. Shaking her head, Aelys forced a smile onto her face and a shaky laugh. "Don't jest, Cregan. We have no son." She emphasized.
He only stared at her back. No words of comfort, no sudden burst of laughter among his men to tell her that the biggest prank in the world had been pulled on her. Just shameless silence.
He had declared her second best in front of all of Winterfell. Her people and his.
"No." She said firmly, shaking her head 'no'. She breathed in and out deeply, trying to clear her blurry eyes and woozy head. Glaring down at the false babe in his arms, she found many similarities that she wished she had not. The same straight brows that Cregan had, the same scattered freckles, the same pale skin. The only difference was the hair color—black as a midnight sky or dragonglass. The mother must be beautiful.
Moving her eyes to the maid behind Cregan, she found that the girl had a mousy blonde color to her tresses. She could not have possibly bore a black-haired babe. She felt sick, like she'd throw up and choke at the same time. "Don't do this to me. You'd never do this to me." She pleaded out, voice small and hoarse.
"It was one time. I swear it on my honor and Stark name." Cregan promised. But every word was like poison, filling her heart with a heavy black liquid and drowning her from the inside out.
"On your name?" She hissed out, uncaring of the onlookers for this one moment. She was allowed to be angry, callous, and spiteful, even. Any self-respecting woman would be. And she'd be damned if she wasn't. Any Stark woman ought to be when ruling over the entire North. Any Glover woman is.
"Your honor? You swore on your honor the day we said our vows under the Weirwood tree. Under OUR Gods! Did that mean nothing to you? Did I—?" Words spilled from her mouth before she can think properly. But she did not regret any of them, knowing she was in the right. Bile rose in her throat, pushing itself past the forced down emotions. She swiftly covered her mouth, stilling herself to prevent any more embarrassing. Subconsciously, she clutched at her empty stomach with her free hand, both mourning the fact that she'd have no children and thanking the Gods for not giving her any previously. A cry finally escaped her lips, watching the plain maid take the babe into her arms again as Cregan looked on helplessly to his wife.
Aelys found her voice again, though it was ragged and tired. "I thought you wished to wait. You told me you wanted it, too." He was a liar, the worst kind of man. "Was it just not me you wanted a family with?"
She'd rather be struck with his hand than his deceitful mouth. It would hurt much less.
"I did, Aelys—I do!" He pleaded, stepping forward to console her. His arms looked like steel traps in her louded mind.
She took a lengthy step back. She would not share his warmth, nor his love. Or his bed, his room, his damned dining room. His children. Not when he had shared it with another woman. Given her his love, his attention, his son.
She could not bear to keep herself calm any longer. Adressing the entire courtyard, who had made themselves the Stark's own personal peanut gallery, she spoke firmly. "The feast is growing cold. Enjoy it while it's warm." Without a second glance back at the Stark, Aelys excused herself to her chambers, where she emptied the contents of her stomach into the chamberpot until she could only dry-heave nothingness. These chambers had not been used since she arrived in Winterfell, instead choosing to sleep and stay in their marital ones. She would not step foot into those again unless she was dragged kicking and screaming.
Aelys awoke to strong arms lifting her from the stone floor. Groggily, she was stirred from her deep and preserving sleep. How long had she been traveling? How long had she been buried under those pelts? Time was a blur when she was in a near comatose state, dead to the world. Limbs were numbed and her body felt warm after so long in the cold weather.
"I've got you, sweet girl. We're going home." A familiar voice rung in the back of her head. Even the jolting movements of a horse trotting could not fully move her to consciousness as she fell back asleep.
When she fully gained her sense of mind, she could clearly hear the sound of two men arguing. The warmth of a hearth was next to her as she lifted heavy blankets and furs off of her body. Glancing around, Aelys found herself back right where it all started. In Cregan's room, formerly their marital chambers that she had long since moved out of. A large oil painting sat over the heart, depicting a newlywed image of her and Cregan. They both smiled brightly in the photo, much to Cregan's complaint that the painting did not make him look 'serious enough'. She only laughed and tipped the painter extra gold dragons for the accuracy.
She loved that painting more than any others they kept in the Great Keep. Now, the two faces looking down at her only served to remind her of the falsehood she lived every day while Cregan was absent. Taking care of Winterfell and the North all by herself, just to come back and be thanked by his uncouth mistakes.
Shakily standing up, she winced at the feeling coming back to her limbs. Wriggling all twenty of her toes and fingers, she ensured they still all had feeling. Miraculously, she did. The numbess still felt vaguely there, and her throat was extremely dry and achy. But at least she was alive. Even if it was back in Winterfell, she could attempt her return to the Motte as soon as the storm died down.
It had been a dreadful blizzard. Not a rare sight in the North, but usually none lasted so long. Aelys could not help but feel it was the Gods punish Cregan and Aelys for their marital spat. Something like this must be so futile and useless in their eyes and the eyes of the people of the realm, but to Aelys it was her world and her life. No one could help Aelys but herself. She'd leave these spoiled halls even if the Old Gods and the New wished otherwise. If Cregan didn't have to keep oaths, why should she?
Opening the large wooden door, Aelys found the source of the faint yelling. Her eyes widened at the sight of her father in front of Cregan, in all his gruff charm with his silver hair and beard. She hadn't seen him in nearly two years. She stayed at the archway under the door, simply listening in as the men shouted further down the hall. If either turned their heads, they would spot her eavesdropping.
"—cannot even keep her safe during Winter! Am I to expect her to stay safe during a wildling attack, or worse? Or will you be prioritizing the safety of your mistress?" Harriston shouted, veins nearly popping out from his forehead and neck in his fury. Snow still gathered on his pelt coat, meaning he had just arrived recently.
"It is my mistake that she was endangered out there—but I would never let such a thing happen again under my protection. This is her home, I cannot allow her to go back to the Dreadfort. She is a Stark." Cregan emphasized, though had a defensive raised tone.
"Was she a Stark when you bed a whore in King's Landing?"
"The situation is more complicated than that." He responded, clenching his jaw.
"Nothing could ever be more complicated than losing your wit at a brothel, Stark. There is no argument to be had. She is staying with her family, where she was intending." Harriston growled out, a tone of finality to his tone. As he swung on his feet to head down the hall, face set in a worried and seething anger, he finally spotted his daughter.
"Aelys!" He yelled in relief, rushing toward her and scooping her up into his thick arms. "We're going home immediately. We will wash our hands of the Starks once and for all."
"I will not allow that." Cregan spoke from behind. As Aelys hugged her father back just as tightly, it was a battle to keep her tears from flowing in his safe arms. She missed her father more than she knew.
Before Harristone could speak, Aelys nodded. "We will settle this." She said flatly. Her father hesitantly let her go, nodding once firmly after seeing the resolve in his daughter's eyes.
"Very well. I will wait in the dining hall for you." He sighed, walking away.
Aelys shivered in the loss of warmth again. In her bare feet and night gown, she felt the cold of the cobblestone walls and floors start to seep under her skin again. "Here," Cregan murmured, gently shifting his mass of brown wolf pelt over her shoulders and clicking the direwolf emblem into place.
She allowed it, though she did not thank him with words. She took a deep breath, looking him in the eyes. "I want to separate. Divorce, I mean." She said tiredly.
Cregan flinched, jaw ticking and heavily considering her words. "That is entirely my fault. It is in your right to ask that of me." He said, voice dimmed and not nearly half of his assuredness. "But please, hear me out."
"What could I possibly hear you out with?" She asked, exhaustion clear in her tone. She'd dealt with this situation long enough.
Cregan nudged the door back open, nodding for her to enter. Reluctantly, she led the way in and watched as he gently shut it behind them. "I swore an oath, nearly nine moons ago." Cregan started.
Her brows furrowed, bemused. "To whom?"
Guiltily, he looked down at her, looking much alike to a kicked pup. "My sister."
"To Sara? What ever for?" She grew frustrated, knowing he was beating around the bush.
Taking a deep breath, he told her everything. "Sara stayed with her friend Alysanne Blackwood in Raventree hall for the entire time I was aiding King Aegon. In that time—she fell pregnant."
Aelys' heart dropped to her stomach. The same sick feeling overtaking her. She did not say a word.
"Davos Blackwood and Sara had built a bond, much like we did." He said. "When she told Davos of the news, they both went to Lord Blackwood to plea to marry each other. He refused, not allowing his heir to marry a bastard."
"And you legitimized Brandon as your own in turn?" She hissed.
"Sara begged me to. She lived her life as a bastard—she did not wish the same for her own son. I swore to her that my nephew would never be allowed the same treatment. I knew Aegon would do it." He trailed.
"So you bring him home, and humiliate me instead? You didn't even tell me, your own wife! You chose Sara over me. She is your sister, I know, but she chose to be with Davos Blackwood." She could have taken a tea, or moved to Essos or Dorne where bastards were more accepted. There were other options, but neither Sara nor Cregan used them. "That is cruel, Cregan. It is heartless." She cried.
"I never wished to hurt you, I only wanted to protect her. It was my oath." Cregan pleaded, grabbing her hands in his.
She shivered again, though unknowing if it was in chill or her own anger. Part of her was happy that he never truly took another woman to bed—never picked another other her. Though he still hid the biggest secret in the world from her for moons. Allowed her to suffer in their shared home and withstand the pitious looks of the people and court.
"I can't trust you. Not ever again. You could not trust me with your own kin's truth, and punished me for it." She stated. She could not allow herself to cave in so easily, to fall back into his arms.
"I understand, sweet girl." He muttered, softly stroking the apple of her cheek almost mindlessly. "I will sign whatever the Maester's conjure up. You will be free to marry whoever you wish—someone who will not lie to you."
The Starks were known for their loyalty and devotedness to their oaths. If Cregan Stark had lied to his wife so easily, no lesser man could ever make her happy with faithfulness and loyalty. Aelys had accepted her life to be one of loneliness from the day Brandon was allowed into the home.
"I will stay in Deepwood Motte for the time being. From there, I will see where my path leads." She said vaguely, unknowing now of what her heart desired. "Wish Sara well for me." Aelys asked of him, leaving him behind as she wiped any straying tears from her face.
"I love you, Aelys." He said, calling softly after her.
"I know." She whispered to herself.
In the dining hall, Harriston awaited her arrival. Perking up when she entered, he knowingly took her into his arms. "I'm tired, father."
"Let's go home. Your mother has missed you dearly." He said, planting a fatherly kiss to her temple.
Aelys would not yet send word for a formal separation to the Citadel or to the King. For now, time apart was what she declared best for herself.
Tumblr media
divider by - @issysh3ll
tags - @palomavz @emithefrog @karinalight @johnshelbywife @tojisrealwifey @baddielizzy @pearldaisy @brookiecookie @jessicar401 @hardkiddonut @littlelilly27-blog @nayaniasworld @just-mj-or-not @flaneurpastel @unsweetenedpeatea @blucesita09 @maxmegara @deeeeexx @masschotch @janniepark1997 @spongelistener @margaaaa30 @paracii @lovebabe18 @rey26 @damneddamsy @yunnifer @kenzcarson @glqmmywhqmmy @arizonadesert @blumin8 @its-your-girl-savy @dreamygirli3 @aemondloverr @zaranobiyuyu @nsr-15 @oxymakestheworldgoround @isansstuff @high-speed-r
so many tags dont work 🥲 will try to tell in comment sec
ending is ambiguous. Will she decide to divorce or eventually mend their relationship? Up to you!
might make an alt ending where he really is just a shitty guy but this had been my idea from the start (many guessed it and i could not reply to them because of it lmao)
sorry if those two scenes got repetitive, but I wanted to show the 'cregan bringing brandon home' from both of their more detailed perspectives. Cregan's shame and guilt and her humiliation and heartbreak.
so many people guessed so close (to the sara part at least) only saw Jace thoughts tho, but he's already dead long before Cregan's walk down to the South. Would have been much more dramatic, but I think Jace would never allow a child of his to be apart from him. Many people swayed me to lead them to separate instead of stick together, and it does make more sense to have her leave him in the end. Although he did not cheat he still lied and publicly humiliated her, even unintentionally, but he's a grown man who is smart enough to know consequences.
362 notes · View notes
purinfelix · 1 day ago
Text
just for the weekend ᯓᡣ𐭩.ᐟ - franco colapinto
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
summary: your teammate has an absolutely ridiculous plan to bring your team back from the dead - but it might be just crazy enough to work w/c: 5.5k + some smau style tweets warnings: a little angst, some uncomfortable touching/kissing since it's fake dating (not too bad but better safe than sorry), some miscommunication - just two idiots in love i fear
a/n: WOW it's finally here, fake dating is literally a guilty pleasure trope for me so i hope yall enjoy this HAHA - also sorry to Williams fans bc there's a lot of slander in this but trust its all for the plot <333 (also holy shit this is the longest fic I've ever written WOW)
Tumblr media
"You're actually insane."
"Oh c'mon, at least think about it for a minute, it's perfect!"
You fold your arms over your chest and try your best to look uninterested in whatever it is your teammate has to say. The two of you had been racing together for a little over half a year now, and you had witnessed him make (at least in your opinion) a grand fool of himself. Flirting with interviewers, winking at cameras, having absolutely no filter during press conferences - but this, this was by far the craziest thing you had heard come out of his mouth.
"A fake relationship?"
"Ah ah ah," he tuts, jutting a finger in your face, "a media relationship, one that will draw the attention away from how crap we're doing and onto the personalities of the team. Think about it, McLaren has whatever Oscar and Lando have got going on and Ferrari basically has two models for drivers. We need something to put us on the map, to make people care about us!"
You pause, and for a minute you seriously consider his outrageous proposition - he isn't completely wrong. For the two of you, making it into the points range was a rare occurrence, and even though the team always made sure to celebrate it like a podium there was something that stung about constantly being at the bottom.
"Do you realise how much trouble we could get into?"
"Ah," he sighs, and it's starting to annoy you how lightly he's talking about this, "ever the pragmatist."
"Well one of us has to be if the other's going to keep saying stupid shit," you huff before turning around and beelining out of his driver's room.
Seriously, a fake relationship? Had he lost his mind? Maybe if he focused more on his racing you wouldn't be constantly outperforming him.
"At least think about it, okay?" You hear him call out from behind you, and consider yourself lucky to be facing the other way so that he doesn't catch your obnoxious eye roll. Surely he had to be kidding because there was no way you were going to devote any amount of time to this ridiculous thought.
Tumblr media
God fucking damnit.
It was frustratingly confusing, the kind of power Franco had. You had witnessed it first hand with how smoothly he spoke to anyone and managed to get his way almost instantly - but this was your first time experiencing it first-hand. It was another weekend, another country, another race, but the only thing you could think of was his stupid consideration - which, with each passing moment, seemed increasingly genius.
You had almost a year of experience with the team over your teammate, and with that, your fair share of embarrassment and disappointment. Sure, his idea was a little out there but you were close to being at your wits end and if nothing else, you hoped this would at least be a little fun. Plus you were pretty sure at this point if you didn't act on this thought soon, it would start interfering with your performance.
"Fine," you said a little breathlessly as you burst into his driver's room ahead of a race.
"Hey!" he exclaimed, looking at you with a shocked look, "whatever happened to knocking? I could've been naked in here!"
You roll your eyes before continuing, "You still up to the ..." You pause, thinking of how best to word it, "Fake relationship thing?"
His eyes light up immediately, "Ah, I knew you'd come around eventually."
Letting out a soft huff, just to let him know that you still aren't fully convinced this will work, you sit down on his couch. "I think we should lay down some ground rules first."
"Yes ma'am." He nods, straightening up and forcing a serious expression you can only assume is mocking yours.
"Firstly, no kissing."
"Understood."
"Actually no public affection at all, holding hands, hugging, nothing."
"Oh sure and how exactly are we going to convince people then?"
You pause, thinking for a little, "Okay maybe hand-holding and hugs are fine, but you better not push it - that goes for the pet names as well." He nods with a satisfied smile.
"And no one other than us two can know this is fake, alright? Otherwise, it'll spoil the plan."
"Trust me, I don't need anyone knowing I'm going along with something as ridiculous as this. It'll be our little secret."
"Our little secret," he repeats with a hum, a sly sort of smile spreading across his face as he gets up from his spot. "See you after the race, my love."
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
You sighed in exasperation, tossing your phone to the side of the couch in your driver's room where it fell with a light thud. You had about a thousand other things to be worrying about - your pretty disappointing result in qualifying for one - but for some reason, the main thing on your mind was your 'relationship' with Franco. Somehow, it had proved even more intense than you had expected, which planted a seed of worry in your mind as you realised how hard this was actually going to be to pull off. Since his not-so-subtle announcement to a hoard of hungry press members at last week's race, the media had managed up a flurry about the two of you.
There were supportive fans who liked you both enough not to see any problem with two teammates dating, as well as others who were more sceptical about how it might impact your performance. However, what really seemed to get to you were those who doubted you more than the relationship.
Your social media had been bombarded with comments and theories about the reason behind your relationship, doubting your place on the grid, and calling you names that - after shedding the status of 'first girl rookie', you thought you had left behind. Regardless, you feel a little stupid for being so unprepared for all this - not just the tweets but the harsh articles, the questions during press interviews and even shouting fans. Maybe if you had done a little more thinking about it first, you would've realised this was a stupid idea that should've been left at just that.
Throwing your head back you let out an exasperated sigh, trying to clear your head so that you could move on and focus on the race that was happening tomorrow. The last thing you wanted was for this plan to start impacting your driving. But Franco always seemed to have the worst timing - or best, depending on who you asked.
"Hello?" A couple quick knocks alert you of his presence before he cracks the door just wide enough to peek in. "There's my beautiful girlfriend." The way the pet names and affection seem to come to him so easily makes you simultaneously impressed and concerned, unsure of whether it's an indication of his great acting or flirting skills.
"What do you want?" You try to make it as obvious as you can that you're not in the mood, and he realises this right away.
"Oh, nothing, I just wanted to ask if you were free after this."
"You know I'm not really a huge fan of the big team dinners, especially not when we have a race tomorrow."
"Oh it's not like that, I was just going to go check out a restaurant near our hotel and wondered if you wanted to join me."
When you finally speak it's just above a whisper, "Is this a part of the fake dating thing?"
He laughs softly, his ability to find everything entertaining has always amazed you. "If you want to, it can be. If that gives you a reason to come hang out with me, though if you don't it's totally fine."
"No, I'll come, not like I've got anything better to do." You hate how every word you've said so far has sounded so pathetic.
"Great, I'll meet you by the paddock entry in ten?"
"See you then."
Tumblr media
The street lights were dim, just bright enough to illuminate the street the two of you were walking down. The night was cool and still, and there were barely any people out other than you. You weren't sure why, but you had ended up telling Franco a lot more than you had expected. Maybe it was the extremely fancy restaurant you had initially gone to or the local one the two of you agreed to ditch it for instead, or maybe it was just the freeing feeling of being in another country.
The two of you had talked before, of course - as teammates it was difficult to avoid. But beyond the casual small talk, discussions about strategies or banter during challenges your relationship never extended beyond casual co-existence. It was one of the reasons you were glad your higher-ups had never tried to force the two of you into a professional friendship. There was something about Franco, his ability to strike up a conversation and maintain it even when the topic clearly strayed far beyond his interests, that made him so likeable, so easy to get along with. And the support he got from fans and the media reflected this well. You just never felt like there was any room for you in that equation.
But here, away from the cameras and shedding the roles of drivers, the two of you became normal people. You spoke, you laughed, you vented to him everything that worried you about your 'relationship' and he listened throughout all of it - all the while the two of you shared the biggest, best, pizza you had ever had.
"I have to say, I don't know if our engineers will appreciate the extra weight I've just put on," he jokes, breaking the comfortable silence that had been lingering around you two as you walked.
"Me neither, they might have to roll me into the car at this rate."
"You know, I think this is the first time the two of us have hung out, just us two."
You think for a little before answering, "You're right."
"Do you think there's a reason for that?"
"You mean besides us both being extremely busy people and already seeing each other pretty often? Not really, no."
"Good point, though with our little plan, we're definitely going to be seeing each other a lot more."
There's a beat of silence. "This is nice though, right?" He asks, and his voice is so tentative you almost find it endearing.
"It is nice, this was fun." You try not to think too much about the fact the two of you could be mistaken by any passer-by as a couple of lovebirds on a first date - or that fact that even to those who knew you, you were.
"I appreciate you telling me all that stuff, you know, about what people are saying about you."
"Oh, if anything I should be thanking you for listening to me vent about it."
"It is serious though, I'm so stupid for not even thinking about what you'd have to deal with."
"Well I don't think either of us gave it enough thought but," you pause and look up at him, "we're too far in to back out now."
He shoots you a comforting smile, one that shows how reassured he feels that you seem to finally be coming around to his idea. That is, at least, before his face morphs into one of discomfort.
"God, I'm so full."
"We're almost back at the hotel now, let's just sleep and then we can wake up early tomorrow morning to-"
"Wait, is that ice cream?" Franco interrupts you to point out a street vendor who's about to pack up for the night, and before you know it he's running up to the man eagerly. You can only follow suit with a sigh, knowing full well you wouldn't mind some dessert either.
"You two are lucky, you'll be my last customers for the night," the moustachioed owner of the cart says with a warm smile.
"Thanks," you reply kindly, before turning to Franco, "what flavour do you think you'll get."
"Hm, not sure, maybe chocolate?"
"Wow, boring."
He scoffs, "Oh yeah? And what exotic flavour are you going to get then?"
"Mint choc," you smile, but your face drops once you see your teammate's disgusted expression.
"You've got to be kidding me, that's like the worst choice."
You feign offence, "How dare you insult the best ice cream flavour of all time?"
"Ah, you two are quite the couple," the man laughs and you watch as Franco's eyes widen in embarrassment.
"Oh we're not-"
"Thank you," it's your turn to interrupt him, turning to the man with a smile. "One chocolate and one mint choc chip please."
You go to reach for your wallet to pay but you feel a hand on yours, stopping you.
"No, it's okay, I got this."
"Wh- Franco c'mon you know full well both of us could afford about a thousand of these ice cream cones don't be ridiculous."
"I know," he smiles and even though he's trying to be serious you know he's also trying not to laugh, "but I just figured you know, I'm the one who dragged you out here and like, got you into this whole fake dating mess."
You furrow your brows, a little confused at what exactly he's getting at.
"I guess I just want to say thank you, you know?"
"Alright, alright," you laugh softly, watching as he pays and takes both of the cones, handing you yours. Once you grab yours, you instinctively loop your arm around his, pulling him close and resting your head against his shoulder. The ice cream man laughs endearingly at the two of you.
"You're the best boyfriend ever!" you say in as high and cute a voice you can manage, cringing a little but determined to keep up the bit - you don't even bother to think about how fast you can feel Franco's heart race when you do.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Last night was really nice. You're sitting next to your race engineer, nodding along as she points to various multi-coloured dots and lines on the screen. You hear yourself agreeing with a couple quick "mhms", "of course" and "yep"s even though you can barely hear what she's saying. You're mere minutes away from getting in your car for a race, getting briefed on your strategy, and the only thing you can think of is the 'date' you had with Franco last night - if you can even call it that.
You had thought that getting everything off your chest, the hate comments, the doubt you had, would help you feel better and relieve any worries you had. And it did, at least until you got back to your hotel room alone and caught yourself smiling at the thought of seeing your teammate again the next day. How, even as you washed up and got ready for bed, you found yourself thinking - pizza, ice cream, walking at night together, isn't that something a real couple would do?
"Are you listening to me?" your race engineer's voice cuts through the haze of your thoughts, causing you to straighten up immediately.
"Yes! Sorry," you mumble, but just at that moment, you see him walk into the garage, greeting a couple of the mechanics warmly. Before you realise it, he's beelining straight for you, his arm coming around your waist as he leans in close to your ear.
"There's a ton of cameras, I just wanted to be believable," he whispers, and when he pulls back you can see the smile on his face. You nod curtly, fully aware of how red your face feels over such a small interaction as he waltzes away.
"Okay, so as I was saying," your race engineer pipes up again, though you couldn't be paying her less of your attention - watching as your 'boyfriend' walks off, his brown hair illuminating in the afternoon light. For a fake relationship, the quickening pace of your heart felt far too real.
Tumblr media
"Well you two have been teammates since the beginning of this year, can you tell us a little about when you realised you might be more?"
Your struggle was never-ending - or at least, that's what it felt like, finding yourself at the centre of an impromptu interview with Franco. Around you, the other drivers were getting questions about their place in their teams, how they felt about their current strategy and about their racing futures. And there the two of you were, getting thrown question after question about your 'relationship'.
"Well," you begin, before being saved by your teammate. You had to give it to him - he was great at making stuff up on the spot.
"Well, I think it was somewhere around a month after I first joined the team, and met her. It was just something about her, she's sort of electric in this almost untouchable way, you know?"
You try not to look too awkward standing next to him as he talks, feigning your best-interested smile - though a part of you is extremely intrigued by this fake story he's creating.
"At first I thought I just wanted to be like her, her passion and talent were just so respectable, but the more time I spent with her the more I realised it was something completely different."
He turns to look at you, his arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you close to him. Your expression falters a little as you're caught off guard by the sudden contact and as you turn away from the journalists and towards him, your eyes widen in shock at the sight of his pursed lips nearing yours. Before you realise it, his lips are against yours and you're pulling away as quickly as possible, face bright red. You're just barely aware of the thousands of flashing camera lights as you turn to quickly excuse yourself.
"Thank you all for coming, it was nice talking to you but, uhm, I have to go!" You hurriedly blurt out before slipping out of Franco's grip and darting off to your driver's room.
You hear his footsteps following closely behind you, as well as the sound of him calling out your name. When you near the door of your room, you turn around and grab his wrist to yank him in before you shut the door.
"What the hell was that?" is all you can muster out, "I thought we agreed no kissing?"
"Look, I can explain!"
You cross your arms with a huff, looking at him expectedly.
"I was just going to peck you quickly on the cheek, you know because we were getting all romantic and I wanted it to be believable! B-but then you turned, and then we," he's struggling not to ramble and his quickly moving hands do little to help. That's when you also realise his face is bright red as well, and he doesn't seem any less flustered by it than you do. "I'm really, really sorry I really shouldn't have done that."
You'd be lying if you said his explanation didn't make you feel any better. You're not actually upset about the kiss itself though, in fact, it's the opposite - actually, the grudge you're holding is doing little to help the internal struggle going on in your head. The kiss didn't make you angry, but the realisation that you wanted it to be real, did.
You sigh, rubbing your temples as you slump down in the nearest chair. Franco does the same on the adjacent couch, though his gaze stays carefully on you, almost afraid of what you might say next.
"It's fine, I think we just need to coordinate our PDA a little better then."
"Yes, of course," he nods quickly.
There's a beat of silence. "You're really good at acting though."
"What?"
"That whole story you made up about how you fell in love with me, it was really believable." You laugh lightheartedly trying to lighten the situation and alleviate the awkwardness that's settled between you two.
"Well it's pretty easy, I didn't need to make up much of it," his eyes catch yours and his gaze is soft when he smiles at you.
"What?" you're confused.
"Never mind," he scoffs lightly, his gaze dropping to the floor as he rubs the back of his neck. He looks almost disappointed at something, though you can't realise what. "Well, I'll leave you alone now. I really am sorry about what happened before." You watch as he pushes himself up from the couch, his head hanging guiltily - looking almost like a scolded puppy.
"It's fine Franco, really, please don't feel too bad about it." He nods thankfully before slipping out the door, leaving you alone.
Tumblr media
Being a driver, hotel rooms had come to be a companion you knew far too familiarly. Their high ceilings, plush sterile white bedsheets, the empty bathroom - almost everything about them felt a sign of loneliness, of temporality, a house that never felt like home. Even though you knew how ridiculous it would be to complain about something that others would see as a privilege, it was hard to deny the isolation you felt whenever in a new country, away from most of your family or friends.
Maybe that's why you had been so eager to latch onto Franco's idea - it made sense, he had become the person you spent the most time with so why not give yourself some ridiculous reason to be around him even more? However somewhere along the way you stopped needing the reason of fake dating, somewhere in between hushed conversations, planned posts and candid photos - and instead found yourself genuinely enjoying his company. It was a little strange and sometimes acted as a sour reminder of how lonely you'd become but more than anything it felt like a blessing in disguise.
You were reminded of this fact as you lay, wrapped in a plush white hotel robe, across your messy bedsheets - laughing to yourself at the tweets your boyfriend had sent you. They were all about you, or the two of you, of course. Comments on the tiniest things, the way the two of you looked at each other, the way Franco held your hand, the way you worried about him.
"I feel a little bad, they're all so gullible," you typed quickly.
"Oh, so now you feel bad?" His response was almost instant.
"Don't you?"
"It's fun, isn't it? All this playing pretend."
Right, pretend. You rolled onto your back with a deep sigh, staring up at the tall hotel ceiling. All of this was just so confusing - as if figuring out how you felt about someone wasn't difficult enough, the two of you had complicated it by tricking the entire world into thinking you were in love. Whether you truly liked him or not, the idea was doomed for failure - and the more you thought about it, the more it seemed like the former.
"You're right," you typed back, watching intently as the three tiny dots appeared, disappeared then reappeared. What could he be saying that would need so much thinking?
"Can we talk tomorrow, after the race?"
You felt your stomach drop, had he finally caught on to how obvious you were being about how you truly felt, and decided that actually it might be better to just drop this whole act and go on as just teammates? With trembling hands, you typed back.
"Sure, what about?"
"I'll tell you then, for now, we should sleep."
"Goodnight Franco."
"Goodnight mi amor." You laughed softly to yourself at the nickname he had given you, though a small part of you took it as salt to the wound - almost as if he was dangling the possibility of something that could never happen right in front of your desperate little face.
However, not like you had a choice - all you could do now was get ready for bed and brace yourself for whatever tomorrow brought.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
You couldn't believe it. The sounds of celebration erupted around you, but you sat completely still in your car, silent, attempting to process what had just happened. Your first win, and, your first double podium, with Franco. Your head was spinning as the never-ending stream of thoughts raced through your mind. Suddenly, you heard a voice coming from above your car's halo, muffled by your helmet. You flick the visor up, lifting your head as highly as you could - locking eyes with your teammate.
"We did it! Oh my god!" The excitement on his face is enough to send a slight surge of energy through you as he offers you his hand, helping you out of the car. When you do though, you stumble a little - the nerves are almost too much for you.
"Woah, you alright?" Even through the fog clouding your mind you can make out the concern in Franco's voice and feel his arms steadying you.
"Yeah, just-" you mumble, gesturing to your helmet and making weak attempts to undo the clasps underneath it. It's almost suffocating you, and the chaos going on around you isn't helping the pounding headache.
"Oh, let me," he reacts immediately, dropping his own helmet and bringing his hands below your chin to swiftly undo the clasps and pull the helmet off of you. You take a deep breath of air as you pull off your fireproof mask, though it sounds more like a desperate gasp.
Around you, the crowds roar with excitement, both your team and others as they make attempts to gesture at the two of you to join them. Your head spins though, and you wobble backwards into Franco.
"It's too loud," is all you can stutter out, though he understands you almost immediately, a strong hand gripping your wrist and pulling you away from the noise and somewhere quieter. You're not entirely sure where he's taking you but at that moment you feel as though you'd follow him just about anywhere.
Luckily though, when your eyes refocus you're in his driver's room, and even though outside you can hear the cheers continuing, you're offered some solace here, the walls muffling the sound. You sigh, sinking into his couch as you throw your head back, panting still.
You feel like it's all just too much - not just the physicality of the race, but the feeling of winning it, winning it with Franco, just Franco himself. When you finally manage to catch your breath you lift your head to see him standing over you, watching intently.
"Better?"
"Much better, thank you." You smile earnestly, "Though I don't think we'll be able to hide in here much longer, there is a cooldown room for this exact reason."
"Oh, I mentioned it to someone, not sure who but he looked important, and he said it would be okay."
You laugh softly, amazed at how he can seem so calm even at a moment like this.
"We did it," you say, still not being able to believe it.
"We did," he smiles, sitting on the couch next to you, "a couples podium."
You feel your heart skip a beat at the sudden reminder of your conversation last night, him mentioning he had something to tell you. Was this it? The two of you had achieved what you had been wanting this entire time, and there was no better time to let this ridiculous bit go than now.
You stare at the wall of his room, the gigantic flag of his home country, and let out a shaky breath, mustering up the courage to break the silence. "So..."
He turns to you, one eyebrow raised in interest.
"What was it you wanted to talk to me about?" You're trying your best to keep your voice lighthearted, "it sounded serious."
"Oh, well about that," he seems to have forgotten it temporarily as well, but the fact that he turns to look at the flag as well, almost unable to maintain eye contact with you, isn't a good sign.
Maybe it's the adrenaline from the race, maybe it's the fact that both of you are going to be needed out on the podium in about ten minutes - or maybe it's the fact that you're so desperate to get out these feelings and make him understand how you feel, but you start talking before you even realise it.
"Look, Franco, I," you start, not entirely sure of where you're going to end up, "I know you asked me to do this whole fake dating thing with you and I completely understand if you want to end it now, I mean why wouldn't we? It's perfect!"
He looks at you confused, lips parted as if about to interrupt you but you continue anyway, stupidly.
"But, look, here's the thing," you turn to him now, and you're sure your face is bright red, "I don't want this to end!"
You let out a deep sigh, and clutch your hands together to stop them from shaking, though it doesn't help that Franco looks even more confused now.
"What?" he says, and your heart drops.
"I," you pause, struggling to find the right words, and struggling to get them out, "I think I like you, like, for real." Okay, not exactly the best choice of words but it'll do.
"Like, not for the whole fake relationship thing?" his tone is still concerned and he leans in a little for clarification.
"Yes! Okay, I know it's not exactly what we thought would happen and it'll probably jeopardise our relationship as teammates but there, I like you okay."
"When did you realise?"
"A couple days ago, I'm sorry."
There's a beat of silence, and you're left with the agonising feeling of your heart racing in your chest, waiting eagerly for his response - for him to laugh in your face, for him to get mad, for him to reject you.
But instead, you watch as Franco's confused expression melts into one of pure relief as he sinks back into the couch with a sigh. "Oh, thank God."
It's your turn to be confused. "I'm sorry, what?"
"You have no idea how long I've waited to hear you say that," he says, eyes fixed on the ceiling with the widest smile you've ever seen.
"Wait you mean you-"
"I win!"
You're absolutely speechless, not a single coherent thought on what is going on or how to respond. All you can get out is a confused sort of grunt.
"I win, I've liked you for longer!" he laughs, sitting up and grabbing your hands in his.
You feel as though your jaw is going to dislocate at how fast it drops, "I'm sorry?"
"Oh c'mon, we've been teammates for a year I know you're not that oblivious."
"Well, apparently I am because I'm really confused."
"I've liked you since the moment I met you, you idiot."
"Wh-" You're about to be offended at the name-calling until what he says finally hits you. He likes you. He has liked you. For ages. You idiot.
"Even when you proposed this to me?"
"Yep."
"Even when we went to get ice cream?"
"Yep."
"Even when you kissed me?"
"Y- well wait no that was completely unintentional," he holds his hands out in defence. You slump back, trying your best to process everything today has entailed, it's almost too much. That is until you feel Franco move a little closer to you, his arm stretching around your shoulders and gently moving your head to lay on his. At that moment, it all becomes clear, and you're suddenly unsure about why you ever felt confused about any of this.
"What now?" You say, barely above a whisper.
"We go and get our trophies," even though you're not looking you can hear the smile in his voice. "Though, before then."
You lift your head up off his shoulder to turn to him with raised brows. "Hm?"
"Now that we aren't fake dating, do the rules still apply?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, I'd really like to kiss you right now," he whispers, and there's a hint of nerves as you watch his eyes dart in between yours and your lips.
"Really can't wait can you," you tease, though you still move to close the space in between you to. But just before your lips can touch his there's a knock at the door, causing you both to slump back with a sigh.
"Hey, are you two in there?" it's your race mechanic, "you're needed, you know, on the podium."
You roll your eyes to show your obvious disappointment at being interrupted, though Franco just watches you with an endeared smile.
"What are you thinking about?" you ask, not being able to hide your own smile.
"I'm just thinking about how beautiful you're going to look up on that podium, and how I won't have to pretend not to be in love with you anymore."
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
Taglist : @spreadyourwings-my-smiling-angel @cinderellawithashoe @vanicogh @taasgirl @claudiajacobs
@dripostsstuff @boiolay @earth-to-lottie @dejavuontrack @dudududu-fangirl
@kravitzwhore @gavisuntiedboot @reiofsuns2001 @musicmie @danielle12002x-blog
@alelo23 @corrodeddeadlydoll @aliwritex @nina-or-anna-or-nora
@5sospenguinqueen @araunahj @sbrn0905 @halleest @lottieliveslife
@lovestruck-sky @im-an-op81-fan @blubra @vienoiserieetc
(don't ask me why it's formatted so weird, tumblr hates me)
255 notes · View notes
miupow · 2 days ago
Text
Tumblr media
𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓。⧼ 𝐒. 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐁𝐈𝐍 ⧽
★ pairing。seo changbin x fem!reader genre。⧼ 📖 ⧽ smut , comedy , pwp warnings。minors do not interact! friends to lovers , non-idol au , college au , roommate!changbin , stoner!changbin , marijuana and alcohol mentions , mentions of infidelity/cheating , rebounds , virginity loss , blood mention (cherry popping) , dirty talk , oral (f. rec) , size kink , praise kink , pet names , possessive behavior , squirting , high sex , inexperienced reader , experienced changbin , hair pulling , unprotected sex , resolved sexual tension
★ synopsis。your roommate, close friend and plug invites you over for a yearly halloween tradition, and also to help you forget about your cheating ex boyfriend.
a/n ⸝⸝ not proofread lol. let me know if there are any mistakes! the ending is a little rushed because i wanted to make sure this was out before halloween... i'm sorry if it's bad ! ! [ 4. 0k words ] ⸝⸝ [ m. list ]
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
Tumblr media
you stare at the text messages, rereading them a few times just to make sure you understood him right— you hadn’t spoken much to changbin at all in the last few weeks or so, especially not about your plans for that night, and part of you had been convinced that he had to have forgotten. but you should have known better than to think that about him, your roommate’s texts left unanswered as you try to hide your phone from your nosy manager. changbin would never forget something like tonight, a tradition the two of you have had since you first had moved in together, reminders everywhere from the candy on sale down to the cheap paper decorations hung up around the grocery store you worked at— it was halloween tonight, your favorite holiday, and since your freshman year of college you and changbin had set a tradition of smoking your weights in weed and watching shitty old horror movies. it was something you looked forward to every year, but this time around you couldn’t conjure up much excitement at all.
you haven’t had much excitement for anything, really, not since the fraternity changbin was pledged to hosted their yearly halloween party earlier that month. it was supposed to be a night of drinking and fun, a celebration of both the season and changbin’s best friend and frat leader chan’s birthday, but your night— and, possibly, the rest of your year— had been ruined in seconds of opening that bathroom door. because there against the sink you had found your boyfriend of four years balls deep inside your best friend.
in retrospect, you were glad you hadn’t needed to pee, because you might have pissed all over the floor in shock.
ever since, you’ve been moving through your life as though you were on autopilot, a mindless zombie as you trudged from your classes to work, from work straight to your bed. you didn’t want to give yourself time to dwell on what you were feeling, instead throwing yourself into your busy schedule to keep you distracted; you had just lost both a friend you had trusted more than anyone and the love of your life in one painful blow, and in a desperate attempt to keep yourself from falling apart entirely, you shut yourself off completely. your trust had crumbled to the point you didn’t want to confide in anyone at all, even to changbin, who you’ve always run to for comfort when you needed it the most.
the two of you had been as thick as thieves since you had first met, his silly and outgoing personality quickly worming its way into your heart— before you could even process it he had become more than just your roommate and your plug for good weed, but one of your closest friends. you’ve told him all your secrets, your dreams and worst fears, poured your heart out to him in a way that you never had with anyone before. he’s your shoulder to cry on that night at the party, cradling you against his broad chest as you soak his tee shirt in tears. he holds you that entire night, only leaving you to get something you wanted. never before had you felt so cared for in your life; not by a man, not by your ex. the intimacy overwhelmed you, and since that morning after you hadn’t said much to each other besides hello. he seems to understand that you need space and left you alone for the most part, but you can see in the way he shoots you lingering sidelong glances that he’s been growing more and more worried about you by the day. while you feel terrible about shutting him out like this, you don’t know any other way to cope. you had locked away your feelings for changbin nearly half a decade ago, and in the span of one night it all came flooding back. it confused your mind and your broken heart, and you needed time alone to think things over.
but you haven’t been doing much thinking. truthfully, you’ve been doing the complete opposite, busying yourself with work and your studies so the point that you didn’t have the time to think anything at all. when halloween came quickly approaching, you ignored it the best you could. betrayal stung like an open wound, all of your pain exposed and raw while everyone celebrates around you. the pit in your stomach grew every passing day, to the point that you felt nauseous— your tummy flips uncomfortably as you type out a reply and delete it repeatedly.
as much as you wanted to spend your night hiding in your room, you didn’t have the heart to skip out on changbin. he would understand, you knew he would, but the idea of disappointing him over something this important hurt nearly as bad as your breakup did.
you’re a big girl, you remind yourself, tapping on your cellphone’s keyboard once again, big girls don’t run away from their problems.
Tumblr media
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
changbin is already high when you make it home, skunk smoke billowing in your face when you open the front door. you toe off your shoes and join him in the living room, your roommate’s short body sprawled out on the couch as he flips through tv stations— his unfocused red eyes light up at the bag of candy you toss onto the coffee table, immediately abandoning his blunt in the ashtray to reach for the bright packaging.
“what ever happened to ‘hello’? ‘how are you’?” you tease, setting down the case of beers you promised. “i go through all this trouble, and this is the greeting i get?”
changbin’s already stuffed a few candies in his mouth, flashing you a dopey grin as he picks back up the joint to offer it to you. “bad day, huh?”
“just tired.” you reply shortly, taking the blunt from changbin’s outstretched hand before flopping down on the couch beside him with a heavy sigh. your head quickly found its usual spot in the crook of his shoulder, your lips wrapping around the blunt to take a long, deep hit as you curl up against his side. the familiar scent of changbin’s cologne envelopes you like a warm blanket, easing all the nerves that thrummed just under your skin— he wraps his arm around your shoulders without a word, his thumb rubbing soothing circles against your skin as you blow smoke into the air. you couldn’t for the life of you understand why you were so hesitant to come home anymore, changbin tearing down your walls in seconds without even having to say a word. it was so, so dangerous to be around him when your heart ached like it did, especially with how it skips a beat every time he lets out a content little hum. you meet his red-rimmed, hazy eyes when you pass the blunt back to him, giving him a wobbly, unsure smile; changbin just shakes his head and giggles, the endearing way in which he scrunches up his nose just adding to the heaviness in your chest.
your ex hated it when the two of you hung out like this. he threw a fit every time, accusing you of sneaking around with changbin behind his back, never listening when you repeated over and over again that you were just friends.
you aren’t even his type, you think to yourself, that bitterness you’ve kept stored away rearing its ugly head. you were nothing at all like the countless girls that came and went through changbin’s life and his bed.
“c’mon, talk to me.” changbin presses play on some old shitty slasher movie you’re pretty sure you’ve seen before. “tell me what’s going on in that cute ‘lil head of yours.”
“everything is just… a lot, right now.” you admit, snuggling against him. like a dam breaking, all the words you’ve thought over the past few weeks overflow and spill out— you tell changbin everything you’ve been hiding from him, how you feel like your supervisor is always breathing down your neck, how overwhelmed and paralyzed you’ve felt working extra hours to distract yourself from your broken heart. while the horror movie plays in the background you tell him all about how halloween has felt more to you like a funeral than a holiday, the campy screams from the tv oddly fitting background noise for how you were feeling… especially with how your ex refusing to let you go quietly.
“he won’t leave me alone, bin,” you groan, taking another deep hit off the blunt. it had gone out from all your talking, but changbin was quick to relight it for you as you pressed it between your lips. “he keeps texting and calling, apologizing and telling me he loves me… i don’t know how much more i can take.”
changbin curls his lip, tossing his lighter onto the coffee table. “why are you even answering him? just block that asshole already.”
“i dunno—”
“he never treated you right anyway. piece of shit. you should to be treated like a princess, like a queen— fuck anyone who breaks your heart. he doesn’t deserve you.”
“i can’t believe he would do this…” you sniffle, trying your best not to cry. “he told me we were going to be together forever, that we were going wait until marriage… and then he goes and does this?!”
“wait, wait—” changbin interrupts, his red eyes widening. “what about waiting until marriage?”
you look up at him oddly. “he wanted to save ourselves for virginities for our wedding night. sanctioned by the lord and all that. i’m so stupid, believing his pastor’s son bullshit… i should have known it was too good to be true.”
“you’re not stupid,” changbin scolds. “i just had no idea that you were both…”
“virgins?” you prompt with a scoff. “well, i thought we both were, but i guess not!”
changbin looks at you for an uncomfortably long time, blinking owlishly. “i didn’t know you were a virgin.”
“you never asked…” you scoot away from his side awkwardly, casting him a nervous anybody sideways glance. you never thought that changbin would judge you for being a virgin, but maybe you had put too much trust in him. at this point, you struggled to put much trust in.
“woah, hey, i’m not saying that’s a bad thing or anything!” changbin interjects, “if that’s what you want to do i’ll support you. i’m just… surprised, i guess. you’ve really never done anything? like at all?”
“i mean, i’ve kissed before,” you mumble, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. “and like, touching and stuff, but not anything past that.”
“not even oral?” changbin gasps.
you shake your head.
the horror movie has been all but forgotten on the tv screen, the suspenseful music oddly fitting for the fluttering in your chest. changbin studies you through the smoke clouding the air, the look in his bloodshot eyes impossible to decipher— you feel so small under his gaze, squirming and shifting in your spot as he scrutinizes you. you open your mouth to speak, but changbin beats you to it.
“have you ever touched yourself?”
you blanche, hands itching to shoot up and hide your face. “um….. yes.”
why were you even telling him this? your sexual experience was none of his business, no matter how close the two of you were… yet you can’t help but feel like he somehow deserves to know. especially when he was the one you always thought about when your hand slid between your legs.
“have you ever made yourself cum?” changbin asks, an unfamiliar, dark edge in his voice making you shiver.
“i… i don’t think i can.” you admit softly, face burning. you try to evert your eyes but changbin is having none of it, gently grabbing your chin and turning you to meet his sharp gaze.
“what do you mean you don’t think you can?!” changbin prods, raising an eyebrow. “everyone can cum, baby. you’ve just been doing it wrong.”
the pet name slips out so fast you nearly miss it, your head spinning and your tummy twisting— never in your wildest dreams had you thought changbin would call you something like that so casually. his rough fingers burn against your skin, holding your chin so firmly yet so gently, such a dominating act turning your brain to mush.
changbin takes your silence and blank stare as some kind of answer, grinning down at you like a predator. “do you wanna know what it’s like to cum?”
you blink. what kind of question was that? “y-yes.” you answer after a pregnant pause, voice barely above a whisper. changbin’s grip on your chin tightens.
“i can show you if you’d like.”
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
you had always wanted your first time to be special. you had dreamed of giving it to your future husband the night of your wedding, a special occasion with candles and rose petals. you had never wanted it any other way before.
but the man you had thought would one day be your husband had you second guessing everything you had ever believed about yourself. you had believed wholeheartedly that he too was saving his virginity for when you got married, but he had given it away like it was nothing behind your back. how many other girls had he fucked besides your best friend? how long had he been lying to you about being your forever? did it even matter now, after the dust settled and found you yourself in changbin’s arms? you were sure now more than ever that that’s exactly where you’re supposed to be.
it feels so right with your back pressed up against the couch, skirt rolled up your hips and your legs spread wide to expose your simple white panties. part of you wished that you had picked a nicer pair to wear, but changbin doesn’t seem to mind; in fact, he admires your pussy as if he had never seen one before, a raw hunger burning in his eyes as he watches your cunt twitch and throb. he can see every movement with your panties so wet, the sopping fabric clinging to the curves of your pussy lips. you can feel every one of his breaths fan over your mound, his face so close with him kneeling below you on the carpet. you fight the overwhelming urge to cover yourself, gnawing on your lip to keep from squealing when he leans over to shove his face in between your legs.
“i’ve wanted to eat this pussy so fucking bad,” changbin growls, his hot mouth trailing against the outline of your mound through your panties, “you have no fucking idea. god, i need to taste you—no, no, keep these panties on, baby. they look so pretty on you.”
changbin shoos your hand away before hooking a finger under the gusset and pulling them to the side, exposing how ridiculously wet you’ve gotten. you’re so horny it aches, fluttering pussy lips wet and sticky— changbin licks his lips at the sight, his pretty brown eyes even prettier when he’s stoned, spit-slick lips blowing cold air against your cunt to watch how you twitch. you so exposed like this, thick thighs spread obscenely as he studies your most intimate areas, and it just adds to the building arousal in your belly. you have half a mind to beg, but changbin beats you to it, dragging the flat of his tongue between your fluttering pussy lips. the unfamiliar sensation makes you shake, every slide of his slippery tongue filling you with desire and anticipation. the pleasure is already too much for you to bear and he’s barely even begun, strong arms wrapping around your thighs as he slobbers wet kisses all over your cunt up to your cute throbbing clit, the engorged bundle of nerves visibly trembling as it peeks out from its little hood. changbin slurps it up between his lips as if it were the sweetest candy, his eyes screwing shut in delight with his face buried in your pussy.
the weed just adds to every sensation, your mind fuzzy and blank except for the intense bursts of pleasure that changbin generously gives to you— you easily lose yourself in it, your hips bucking against his face and your hands shooting down to tangle themselves in his tousled hair. pulling against the strands earns you a deep, primal groan from deep in changbin’s chest. “b-binnie,” you warble brokenly, “it feels so good~”
“yeah?” changbin smirks against your cunt, lips releasing your clit with a wet pop. “you like having your pussy ate, baby?”
“mhm, mhm—” you nod pathetically, using your grip on changbin’s hair to try and pull him impossibly closer to you. he responds in kind, adjusting his grip on your panties before abruptly shoving his tongue inside your weeping little hole.
the sudden sensation makes you gasp, your wide baked red eyes watching in rapture as changbin devours you whole; he shakes his head vigorously as he tongue fucks you deeper, eats you like a starving animal, his big hand on your thigh holding you down so you have no other choice but to take whatever he gives you. the pleasure is overwhelming, clouding your senses in the best way, elevating your high to a level you’ve never quite reached. you felt like you were floating and falling all the same, waves of ecstasy crashing over you and pulling you under. one of changbin’s hands leaves your shaking thigh to circle your clit with his thumb, his chuckle reverberating against your heated skin when you cry out. the pleasure reaches a breaking point, so overwhelming that blood rushes in your ears—
“i-i think i’m gonna pee!” you suddenly shriek, entire body quivering in his hold, the building tension in your gut threatening to overflow. changbin just shoves his tongue deeper inside your hole, nearly folding you in half against the couch cushions with your legs dangling up in the air. “wait, baby, please—”
“shh, oh sweetie, you’re not gonna pee,” changbin coos, thumb working in tandem with his lips and tongue. “you’re gonna cum. you’re gonna squirt all over my face, fuck— make a mess for me, baby, come on.”
it feels as if the world stops spinning as you reach your climax, your vision going white as you toss your head back and scream with release. clear liquid pulses from your cunt, drenching changbin’s face as he slurps your hole greedily. it soaks the bedsheets, so much that it makes a puddle under your ass— changbin helps you ride out your orgasm with his tongue on your clit, drawing slow circles against the oversensitive bud until you swatted at him to let up.
“holy shit, you really did squirt, that’s so fucking hot… how’d that feel, baby?”
“feelssogood~” you moan, legs still shaking from the aftershocks. changbin unwraps them from his neck and pushes himself off the carpet—in a flash he has you underneath him with your knees to your chest, his broad musled body pressing you deep into the couch cushions.
“you want another one?” he grins down at you wickedly, dark eyes sparkling.
“yesyesyes—!” you squeal in excitement, relishing in the feeling of his hard cock through the fabric of his sweatpants, your dripping pussy getting them wet and aiding in the delicious slide. the size of his bulge both frightens and excites you, thicker than you had ever thought or dreamed about; you grind against him needily, ignoring how your panties dug into your flesh, ready for him to take his sweats off, but the feeling of changbin’s blunt fingers against your opening makes you stop and frown. “n-no, no, not your fingers— i want y-you inside!”
“but bunny, you’ve never taken cock before,” changbin murmurs, “i need to stretch you out, i don’t want to hurt you…”
“please, i’m so fucking wet, i can take it! i’m so empty it hurts, binnie, want your big cock…”
“fuck.” changbin spits, eyes screwing shut as he grits his teeth; he breathes like he’s trying to compose himself, fat cock twitching against your hole. “fuck, fuck, alright— i’m gonna go slow, okay? tell me if it hurts.”
with one hand he tugs his sweatpants down his thick thighs, his cock bobbing up to slap against his belly. the size of it makes you gasp, flushed angry red and leaking pearly precum from the tip. thick, throbbing veins wrap around the velvety shaft, adding to the daunting girth that made your cunt clench around nothing.
“like what you see?” changbin teases, wrapping a fist around himself and slowly stroking. he slaps his wet, bulbous tip against your clit two, three times, snickering at your needy whine.
“i-it’s so big!” you whimper brokenly, bottom lip wobbling. “it’s so— i need it inside, please!”
changbin can’t take the waiting anymore, pulling your pussy lips apart to spit on your winking hole; before you can react his cockhead is pushing against your rim and popping inside. you throw your head back and wail, eyes shooting wide in shock, pussy spasming and clamping down tight on his thick cock as he slowly and carefully pushes deeper and deeper inside. “oh fuuckk, baby, so fucking tight! it’s a lot, i know, you gotta try and loosen up for me,” changbin coos, deliciously condescending as his fat length bullied deeper and deeper into your tight virgin hole. the stretch is almost unbearable, burning even with your pussy this soaking wet— you cry out in a mix of pain and pleasure, grabbing ahold of changbin’s bicep tightly. “you can take it though, right sweetie?”
he stops halfway to let you adjust, your tight little hole clamping around him like a vice. his cock feels so much bigger inside of you, so unrelenting you feared it would tear you in half. you blink away tears as you struggle to take him, your gummy walls torn between pushing him out and sucking him in deeper. slowly, the pain begins to give way to mounting pleasure, stagnating as changbin lays still inside of you. “i-i’m ready,” you quietly whimper, cunt pulsating.
“you sure?” changbin asks, humming when you shake your head. “i’m gonna move now, let me know if it’s too much—"
there’s a little bit blood mixed with the slick covering his cock when he slowly and carefully slides it out, your pussy squelching obscenely and your hole left gaping. changbin shushes your frightened whimper, pulling you to his chest with a hand cradling your head. ”shh, it’s okay, you’re doing so good~” he coos into your hair, pushing himself slowly back inside of you. “i just popped your cherry, baby. you’re taking my cock like such a good girl, aren’t you?”
his cock hits even deeper than before, all the way to the hilt— his fat mushroom head kisses your cervix with an explosion of red hot pleasure, pressing against it so hard it felt as if he would push through all the way into your empty womb. the rhythm he quickly falls into is punishing, pounding you into the mattress at a brutal pace, his heavy balls slapping against your ass with every mean thrust of his hips. “you’re so fucking deep!” you hiccup, burying your face in changbin’s chest.
“yeah, baby? can you feel me in your tummy?” he laughs, his voice infuriatingly calm and collected compared to the way his hips smacked against yours impossibly hard and fast. “fuck, your pussy feels so good, better than i’ve ever dreamed— i’ve always wanted to fuck you so bad, since i’ve met you, bunny! am i making you feel good, princess? is this pussy mine now?”
“yes!” you sob, unable to form any other words, form any coherent thoughts at all; you’re fucked completely dumb in seconds, brain completely empty except for how much pleasure coursed through your body, how perfectly changbin was fucking you, how that fire in your tummy grew hotter and hotter, about to burst like a volcano erupting. “i’m yours, always been yours— this pussy is yours, binnie, fuck!”
“that’s my good little girl. forget about everything except this cock, okay? you’re all mine now, aren’t you? oh my god, this is the best halloween ever.”
168 notes · View notes
mononijikayu · 3 days ago
Text
come back to me — geto suguru.
Tumblr media
"I need to tell you something." he said, his voice low, rough with guilt. “It’s... it’s over. Everything.” You frowned, stepping closer to him, concern etched in your features. “What do you mean?” He met your eyes then, and you saw it—the shift, the darkness lurking behind them. His expression was distant, hollow. "I killed them. The village, my parents... I killed them all."
GENRE: alternate universe - canon convergence;
WARNING/S: dead dove: do not eat, dark fic, nsfw (not safe for work), r -18, angst, hurt/no comfort, toxic romance, character death, murder, guilt, remorse, horror, sorrow, tragedy, lovers, canon related violence, choking, violence, curse creature, ghostly figure, anguish, emotional instability, emotional, haunting, betrayal, unfinished business, depiction of character death, depiction of murder, depiction of emotional instability, depiction of choking, depiction of anguish, depiction of guilt, depiction of sorrow, depiction of ghostly figure, mention of mass murder, mention of death, curse user defector! geto suguru, victim girlfriend! reader;
WORDS: 7k words.
NOTE: this is probably the first time i'm writing something that is a dead dove, because i was curious how i would do when writing something as heavy and as horrific as something like this. i wanted to be able to write it properly, because not only is it kinktober, it is also spookytober. so, i had this in mind. i wanted to participate at least once. so, i hope that even though this might not be your cup of tea, it be something of interest to you. but if you can't read it right now, that's okay too. i'll publish more works soon enough!!! i love you all <3
masterlist
if you want to, tip!
HE CAN SEE YOU EVERYWHERE. And it was his own fault. A fault, of course, he does not regret. A fault he incurs with wanting, and greed. You haunt Geto Suguru and there was nothing else but it to last forever. You haunt his existence as though you own it. Everything about was drifting through his every thought like a shadow he can't shake.
He had known this would happen. He had anticipated it ever since that day. The day he crossed the line from the man he once was into something darker, something twisted by hatred, madness and grief.
He had expected your presence to follow him. He had expected that you would never leave him alone. Geto Suguru had always wanted it. He had always wanted you. For you were everything. You were the beginning and end.
You were too important, too loved by him. You cannot leave him. You cannot go astray from him. Because he had made it so. He had made it so and it shall be like that. After all, he was the one that took your life. There was no other way about it. And he remembers. He remembers it distinctly. He remembers it all too well.
It was after the massacre, after he had ended up doing what he had done. Still in his blooded clothes, weary and exhausted, he did not hesitate in all he had done. Why should he? Why should he feel regret now when his heart, his soul, his everything, was corrupted by the greed and indifference of others?
That village had been reduced to nothing but ash and ruin, its people were swiftly slaughtered by his own hand. And all that remained was ash and bone, the dark charred bitterness burning amid the blue flames.
He of course did not stop there. He couldn't. It was as though he was in autopilot. As though no one was home. And yet, he remembers. He feels the contradiction of it all. But he does not need to admit to fault. The result was obvious. It was secured by fate. The fate he had chosen.
He took Mimiko and Nanako and brought them somewhere safe. And all that he could think of his house. It would be empty. His parents wouldn't be home. And he take what he needed and leave. He could leave. But he was a fool for thinking that everything would go swiftly as he planned.
Within an hour of him trying to take everything, he silences Mimiko and Nanako and tells them to keep the TV on, as loud as possible. And no matter what, do not come down. The two young girls agreed, they were smiling too. They would do anything he'd asked. For after all, he was the one who had saved them from these....these cruel creatures that had nearly taken their lives.
Geto Suguru has always had a difficult relationship with his parents. But even then, he had cared for him. He was a filial son, he knew that about himself. Yet he knew that he had gone far already with what he had done.
He cannot let his parents be an exception. Not even if they weren't at fault. Even if they didn't do anything. He can't be lenient. Geto Suguru lets his steps be firm, even if he knows he can't. He could remember his mother's greeting, seeing him. His father's little hey. It was almost like his childhood agaian.
"You staying the night, 'guru?" His mother asks him as she puts down the grocery bags. "I thought it would still be a school night."
"Let him be, dear." His father says, smiling at his wife. "We always work, he's always at school. Let's just enjoy having him around for a little more time."
His mother laughs. "You're right. We might as well enjoy our son being here."
"Oh, 'guru. Is that ketchup stains on your shirt?" His mother gasped, spotting the red stain on his white school shirt. "Take it off, 'guru! Let me clean it. Go and change, you must be tired―"
"You can do it later, dear." His father says, as he starts clearing out the groceries. "I'm sure that you can wash it later. If Suguru wants to spend some more time with us, then wash it later."
His mother pouts at his father's words. "I suppose so."
"Mom, dad." Suguru finally talks, raising his head a little. His eyes meeting that of his mother and father. He catches their attention and he stays still.
For a moment, he could see everything of him in his mother and his father. His mother's purple eyes, his father's tender lips. His mother's long black hair. His father's gentle face. He could see all of him in them. And he's going to destroy it. He's going to ruin it. He has to. There's no other way.
His mother's brows raised a bit confused. "What is it, 'guru? Do you want anything?"
"I'm sorry."
In that moment, maybe they did notice what was wrong with him. After months of suffering, after this whole year, maybe they finally noticed. But they noticed too late. They noticed too late when he already had resolve.
"Hey, son. If there's anything you want to talk to us about, you can." His father says to him, walking towards him. This was the last time Suguru would see his father's kind face. "We love you son, you know that. You can tell us anything."
"I love you too." Suguru whispers, lifting his head whole. He reveals tears pouring from his face. "I'm sorry."
Those were the last words he said to his parents. Those were the last thing they heard from him as his curses took them both one by one and destroyed what remained of who he was.
Geto Suguru sobbed for a long while, looking at the blood. Looking at what he had done. He sobbed and sobbed until nothing could come out. But what was done was done. He needed to move forward. There was only one thing left.
And yet, after all that bloodshed, he went to you. Not out of regret, not out of any moral dilemma, but he was too far gone for that. He had to close all his ties. He had to disappear. Geto Suguru cannot remain. He has to die. And what better way than to end you too.
If Geto Suguru had one thing he was truly happy in his life about, it was you. And you were his everything. You were the one constant, the one person who had always been there.
You, his childhood friend, the girl who had stood beside him through everything. And more than that, you were the love of his life. The woman he'd once dreamed of marrying, of building a future with before everything unraveled.
When Geto Suguru arrived at your house, everything was still. You were sitting alone, your parents gone, much like his had been your entire lives, leaving the house in an eerie silence. You were the last peaceful thing in his world.
And he has to take you away. You weren't meant for this dirty world. You were the purest thing in his life. You can't be here. Not when he wrecks everything whole. You can't, you can't be tarnished more than you will be.
As he stepped into the room, you looked up and your face lit up, just like it always did. You were so beautiful to him. The most beautiful star in his sky. Forever infinitely so pure. His beloved.
You smiled at him like nothing had changed, as if the boy standing before you was still the same Suguru you had known all those years. You were happy to see him, your eyes full of warmth, unburdened by the weight of the horrors he had committed just hours before.
“Suguru!” you greeted him, standing up and crossing the room to meet him. Your voice was soft, affectionate, carrying none of the tension or fear that had filled his life. “I’ve missed you.”
For a moment, in that single heartbeat, he almost let himself believe it—that he could be that man again. The boy who smiled and laughed with you. The one who loved you with every part of himself. He could feel the familiar tug in his chest, the love he had always felt for you, pulling him back from the brink. And for a second, he almost let himself forget.
But deep down, Suguru knew. The path he had chosen was irreversible. He had come too far, burned too much of himself away to ever turn back. There was no room left for love, for innocence, for the life he had once dreamed of with you. He had destroyed it all, and now everything around him had to fall too. Even you.
You didn’t see it coming. You had no idea of the darkness that had consumed him. You looked at him as if nothing had changed—as if he were still the boy who had promised to protect you, to always stand by your side. And that was the part that hurt him the most.
"Suguru, what's wrong?" you asked softly, reaching out to touch his arm. "You look... tired. Are you okay?"
He flinched at your touch, as though your kindness was too much to bear. He turned his face away, swallowing the bitterness rising in his throat. How could he even begin to explain? How could he tell you what he had done, the blood that stained his hands, the lives he had taken?
"I need to tell you something." he said, his voice low, rough with guilt. “It’s... it’s over. Everything.”
You frowned, stepping closer to him, concern etched in your features. “What do you mean?”
He met your eyes then, and you saw it—the shift, the darkness lurking behind them. His expression was distant, hollow. "I killed them. The village, my parents... I killed them all."
Your breath hitched. For a moment, you didn’t understand. You didn’t want to. “What are you talking about?” you whispered, shaking your head, disbelief coloring your voice. “That’s... that’s not possible. You wouldn’t—”
“I did.” His voice was cold, flat, devoid of emotion. “I killed them. They deserved it.”
Your knees buckled, and you stumbled back, eyes wide in shock. You couldn’t reconcile the words he was saying with the boy standing in front of you. “No... no, that’s not you, Suguru. You wouldn’t do something like that. You.... you would never.”
But as you looked into his eyes, the reality of it sank in. You could see it. Little by little, you pieced it all together. You could see the darkness that had swallowed him whole, the monster he had become. And your heart broke, shattered into pieces as you realized what he had done, what he was planning to do.
“I’m sorry, my love.” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, but there was no warmth in it. “You have to understand... I can’t let you live. Not like this. Not anymore.”
Tears welled up in your eyes, but even then, even as the weight of his betrayal crushed you, you didn’t hate him. You couldn’t. This was Geto Suguru; the boy who had always been gentle with you, who had held your hand on dark nights and made you believe in a future together. Your everything.
Just as much as you were his everything. You loved him. You still do love him. How could you not? He was and always will be the love of your life. You didn’t hate him, but you were afraid. Not of death, but of what he had become.
“Suguru…….” Your voice trembled. “You don’t have to do this. Please.”
He looked away, clenching his fists, his jaw tight. “I do.”
“But I love you.” you whispered, your voice breaking. “I still love you. Even now. Isn't that enough?”
His heart ached at your words, the pain of your love cutting deeper than any blade. He had come too far, done too much. There was no going back, not for him, not for either of you. He cannot stop. If he could do it to his parents, he could do it to you.
But you—you were different. He couldn't kill you like he had killed the others. He didn’t want to see fear in your eyes, didn’t want to hear you scream or beg for mercy. You deserved better than that, better than what the world had given you, even if he no longer deserved you.
So he made a choice. A twisted act of love, the last shred of mercy he could offer.
“I’m sorry, my love.” he repeated, stepping closer, his voice soft now. "You won’t feel anything. You’ll just fall asleep, and... you’ll dream. A dream that never ends."
Your tears fell freely, but you didn’t move. You didn’t try to run. How could you? You were in disbelief. You were in absolute mania, you were in a madness. There was no way you could. You cannot do anything but be still, in shock, and wait for the end. Betrayed, hurt and gone by the one that you loved the most.
Or perhaps, maybe you had always known it would come to this; that the boy you had loved had been consumed by the darkness, and there was no saving him. Maybe it was just fate. Or maybe you were just too kind, too trusting, too good for this world. Suguru would never know.
He held you close, cradling you in his arms, and for a moment, you let yourself believe everything would be okay. That somehow, this nightmare would end, and you would wake up in the arms of the boy you loved, the one who would protect you. But deep down, you knew that wasn’t the case.
He just kept you beside him all through the night, for what felt like hours, maybe longer. Your body was so still in his arms, as though the weight of the world had finally let go of you. You were so quiet, so calm, as if you had already accepted what was coming. 
Maybe you knew, deep down, that the boy you had loved so fiercely, so fully, had become someone else. That he had become this person lost in a sea of hate and ambition, far beyond the innocent dreams you had once shared together.
Geto Suguru wondered if you had always known that it would come to this, that the path he had chosen would inevitably lead you to this moment of no return. That you had always known that he will be your beginning and end. That you would belong to him no matter what, life and in death. Because he didn't. Until now.
“I’m so sorry. I love you.” he whispered one last time, his voice cracking, as he used his curse on you—the one that could curse with a dream that would never end.
You felt yourself slipping away, your body growing heavy, your eyelids fluttering shut. But there was no fear, no pain. Just a deep, endless sleep. Suguru’s heart clenched. He knew what he was about to do. He had already gone too far—there was no turning back. 
You would never have followed him down the path he had chosen, the path of darkness and destruction. You were too pure, too gentle, to walk the same road as him. You would never raise a hand to hurt anyone, even if it meant saving yourself. That was the kind of person you were, the kind of person he could never be.
So, this dream; this was all he could give you. It was the only gift left that wasn’t tainted by his sins.
His curse; a dream that would never end. It was his final act of love, his last attempt to protect you from the reality he had created. With it, he could give you what the real world had taken away from both of you.
He could give you the life you should have had. The life he had stolen from you when he became the monster you never deserved. In this dream, you could live peacefully, forever untouched by the violence and corruption that had consumed him. In this dream, you could be happy. You could be free.
He watched as your breathing grew softer, your chest rising and falling in a steady, peaceful rhythm. And in that moment, Suguru let himself imagine what your dream was like. Maybe it was a simple life, the kind you had always wanted. 
Maybe the two of you were walking through the fields of a quiet village, hand in hand, with the sun setting on the horizon. Or maybe you were sitting beneath a tree, with your head resting on his shoulder, laughing about nothing at all.
He pictured the softness of your smile, the warmth of your touch, moments of joy that you would never experience again, not in the real world. But in this dream, it would be eternal. And most of all, it would be final. It would be the end. And there would be no path to return.
In this dream, the two of you could grow old together. You could have the life that you both had once spoken about when you were younger, before everything had gone wrong. There would be no death, no suffering. Only love. Only peace.
As your body stilled completely, Geto Suguru’s heart ached with the weight of what he had done. He had cursed you, just as he had cursed so many others, but this curse was different. This one was born out of love.
A twisted, desperate love that couldn’t save you, but could at least offer you a kind of peace. It wasn’t enough. He knew that. It was never going to be enough. But it was all he could give.
"I’m sorry, my love." he whispered, his voice breaking in the silence of the night. "I’m so sorry."
He could never undo what he had done. He couldn’t bring you back, not really. But he could give you this, a life lived in the dream of what could have been. And maybe, just maybe, that would be enough for you.
But as the hours passed, and the weight of your absence began to sink in, Suguru knew the truth; he hadn’t done this just for you. He had done it for himself. To hold on to the illusion of what he had destroyed. To keep you with him, in some way, even if it was only in the depths of a dream that would never end.
It was all he had left
You never woke up.
“I love you, I love you.” he whispered into the silence, knowing you would never hear him. "Always."
And as he laid you down, letting you drift into the dream he had cursed you with, he knew he would never find peace again.
He had seen it in your eyes when he came to you that night. There was no anger, no fear—just a deep, silent understanding. It wasn’t the kind of acceptance that came from giving up; it was something softer, sadder. 
Maybe you had already resigned yourself to the fact that Suguru could no longer protect you, that the man he had become could only destroy the things he once cherished. He wondered if, in your heart, you had always known that the love you had given him so freely would be the very thing that led to your end.
Or maybe, he thought, you were simply too good for this world. Too kind, too pure. He never really knew. The way you looked at him that night, with the same softness you always had, even after everything. He couldn’t understand it. He had expected fear, maybe even hatred. But there was none of that. Just love, unwavering, even in the face of what he had become.
▐░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▌
HE PAYS FOR HIS SINS WITH THIS. Every evil act has a gift in return. Everything has a consequence. And he knew that you would die with some hatred in you. That you wouldn't go without a fight, without resentment. You would be bound to materialize as the shadow of what life could have been and the regrets he had made it to be.
Because of he had done, your ghost lingers. You were his constant reminder of what he threw away. You were all he wanted and all he had wasted. The person he loved the most and the person he ruined the most. In his mind, he can still feel the warmth of your embrace, still hear the way you said his name with love and trust.
He killed you because he had to. Because his mission demanded it—but the truth is, he didn’t want you to die. He had never wanted that. He had wanted you by his side, forever. But in his quest for destruction, he had destroyed the only thing that had ever truly mattered to him.
Even now, he can feel you. The weight of your absence presses down on him, but so does the weight of your presence. You’re always there, just out of reach, watching him, haunting him.
He sees you in his dreams, in his nightmares, in the quiet moments when he’s alone with his thoughts. He wonders what could have been, if only he had made a different choice. But that world is gone, along with you, and all he has left is the ghost of the life he should have had.
In the end, it wasn’t your fault. You didn’t deserve to die. But he had gone too far, and in doing so, he lost the one person who had always believed in him. Now, your love is a memory that torments him, and your ghost is a shadow that will never leave his side.
"Do you hate me?" Suguru's voice trembled as he sat at the edge of the bed where he had last held you.
No one was living here anymore, your parents couldn't bear it. And so he bought the house, with a proxy. And left everything just the way it was. The room still smelled like you. It always will. Everything in this house will be you. Everything in his life is you.
There were faint traces of the perfume you wore, the lingering scent of your skin, and the warmth that used to make this place feel like home. The dresses you liked to wear when you both would go on those rare dates. The smell of your shampoo lingers in your bathroom. He remembered the way his nose would rest against it when you both slept together.
The home had been so abundantly you. Everything about it was you. And now, it was just a hollow space, like a tomb. All his regrets lay there. All his grief resided here. Everything was here. And he couldn't take it. He couldn't abandon it. He couldn't live with it. But he had to. He has to live. He has to live haunted by you.
Because he was sure, hell would be his place. And he would never see you again. He would never know you again. He would only ever live in misery there without you, without traces of you. He could feel his heart beat in his chest, heavy and erratic, waiting for something. Anything. Just a little sign from the presence he could always feel around him.
You didn't answer, not with words. You never did. But there was a weight in the air, a feeling that always hovered when he thought of you. He could feel your sadness, the disappointment that clung to the silence between them. It cut deeper than any curse could.
"I... I didn't want it to be like this, my love." he whispered, gripping the sheets beneath him, the same ones you used to curl up in. His fingers twisted in the fabric, the pressure keeping his hands from shaking.
"I thought... If I let you go gently, it would be enough. It would be kinder. But I was wrong, wasn’t I? I should...I should have taken you with me. Abandoned the world. We could... we could have been together."
There was no reply, but the stillness in the room felt heavier. The silence was cruel. But it was what he deserved. He could imagine your eyes on him, those soft, kind eyes that had once looked at him with nothing but love. Now, he wondered if they would have only looked at him with sorrow.
"I loved you, the most in the world." he said, almost to himself. His voice cracked, the admission pulling something raw from deep within. "I still do. I don't know if that matters now, but I wanted you to know. Even after everything... I loved you more than I loved anything. Even the hate. Even the darkness. But that didn’t change anything."
The words felt hollow, like a confession given too late to a ghost that could no longer forgive. He buried his face in his hands, the weight of the years, of his choices, pressing down on him like a thousand stones. He did this to himself. He did this to you. He had no right to feel sorrow. No right to feel remorse or longing.
"I used to think I could fix it. That somehow, I’d find a way to make everything right. That maybe... Maybe if I succeeded, I’d see you again, and you’d understand. That you’d forgive me." He laughed, but it was empty, bitter. "But I don’t deserve it, do I? I killed you. I killed the woman I loved more than anything in this world, and for what?"
He stood suddenly, unable to sit still any longer, pacing the room. "What did I gain? Power? Control? None of it matters. None of it ever mattered without you."
The room seemed to shift then, the shadows curling in the corners, and for a moment, he thought he saw you. A glimpse, just out of the corner of his eye, like a faint outline of your silhouette. He froze, heart pounding, and for the briefest second, hope flickered in his chest. Could it be?..........
"Suguru......." Your voice was soft, barely a whisper, but it pierced through the silence like a dagger. "Suguru........."
He turned, but there was nothing. Just the dim light filtering through the curtains, the room empty as it always had been. But the voice lingered, echoing in his mind.
"Suguru..."
He closed his eyes, breathing in deeply, trying to hold onto the sound of your voice, as though he could pull you back into reality. "I'm sorry, my love." he whispered. "I’m so sorry."
For a long moment, there was nothing but the hum of the wind outside, the creak of the old floorboards beneath his feet. And then, in the stillness, something seemed to shift again. The presence was still there, but softer, like a gentle hand on his shoulder, a touch that wasn’t quite there but wasn’t gone either.
"I never wanted this, I…." he whispered, his voice breaking. "I never wanted to hurt you. But I didn’t know how to stop. I couldn’t stop."
There was no answer, but in the silence that followed, there was a warmth—a fleeting warmth, like the last rays of sunlight before nightfall. It wrapped around him, gentle, forgiving, and for just a moment, he thought that maybe you didn’t hate him after all.
But then it was gone.
Just like you were.
Just like everything.
And he was alone again, in the house where you had once lived, haunted by the love he had destroyed with his own hands.
▐░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▌
HUMAN GREED IS THIS, HE LIKES TO THINK. Even though he was the most undeserving being in existence, he wanted to be greedy. He wanted to be greedy when it came to you. He can't help it. He wanted you, no matter what. He yearns for you no matter the case. Even if it's to curse him, he wants to see you again. You became a cursed ghost, bound to him like the shadow of every terrible thing he had done. 
Geto Suguru felt your presence in everything he did, in every step he took. It was unavoidable. When he would wake up, he knows you were calling his name. When he was in his dreams, you would look at him, without saying anything.
You haunted him relentlessly, silently, like a specter of the life he had stolen from you, and from himself. He couldn't escape you. He didn’t deserve to. He doesn't want to. He doesn't think he should. Not when he loves you most.
At first, he tried to ignore it. He tried to pretend that your death had been some kind of mercy, that he had spared you the pain that had consumed everyone else. Because that was what he had thought when he had taken your life. That's what he thought he was doing. He thought he was standing by you.
But as the years passed by, he knew that he was in the wrong. He accepted that he was in the wrong. That he had caused misery beyond compare. Not only for him but the most, for you. You were robbed of everything. Because he willed it.
And you couldn't accept it. He knew you wouldn't. Even if you had not done anything when he had killed you, you resented him. He knew that for a fact. Because you would not have materialized, your spirit wouldn't have lingered if that was the case. You resented him. And you loved him. You wanted him to pay and you wanted to hold him.
You followed him through the days and the nights, never speaking, but always there—watching, waiting. Your eyes, once full of love and warmth, now filled with sadness, sorrow, and something worse: disappointment.
If he was being honest, Suguru hated it. He cannot take how you look at him with those eyes. He cannot understand how it hurt him, how it can put him to the worst of grief. Over and over again.
He hated how tainted you had become because of him, how his hands, once capable of tenderness, had defiled your soul. You were twisted now, corrupted by his actions, bound to this cursed existence because of him.
He had stained you, dragged you into the darkness with him, and now, he could never set you free. You were a cursed being, a remnant of everything pure he had ruined.
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw you. Every time he breathed, it was like you were just behind him, your breath a cold whisper on his neck. When he fought, when he killed, when he walked among the ruins he had created, you were there, like a silent witness to his sins. You never left him alone. And he had a love and hate for the fact. 
And in the stillness, in the quiet moments between battles, he would feel your sadness radiating from the shadows, like a knife twisted into his chest. The more he tried to push you away, the tighter your curse clung to him, a constant reminder of what he had done.
It wasn’t fair. You didn’t deserve this. You had been innocent. You had been his love, his reason for hope in a world full of hatred. You were the light he had turned away from, and in doing so, he had dragged you into the abyss with him. And now, you were part of that same darkness. A monstrosity of his own making.
He wanted to give you peace. He wanted to free you, to find a way to release your soul from the curse he had placed upon you. But deep down, he knew he couldn’t. He had gone too far, and there was no redemption, not for him, and not for you. This was all that was left of the love you shared—a twisted, haunted existence. You were bound to him in life, and now in death, you were bound to him still.
Suguru couldn’t forgive himself for what he had done to you. He couldn’t bear the weight of knowing that even in death, you had no peace. You should have been free, your soul at rest, away from the horrors of the world he had embraced. But instead, you were with him, suffering, watching him destroy everything, even himself.
"This isn’t what you deserved." he whispered one night, his voice shaking as he sat alone, surrounded by the cold, oppressive air of your ghost. "But that's all I have left of you."
And in his heart, he knew the truth: he had destroyed everything good in his life, including you. Now, all he had left was this haunting, this curse, this twisted version of the love he had once cherished. It was his punishment, the monstrosity of his own creation, and he would carry it with him until the very end.
You began to interact with him, more than just a haunting presence. At first, it was subtle—a cold breeze across his skin when the windows were closed, the flicker of shadows in the corner of his vision, the soft rustle of something moving when no one was there.
But as the days passed, it became more intense. You weren’t just watching him anymore. You were with him, and that made the guilt all the more unbearable. He could tell that you didn't know how to feel about it. One moment, you adored him. One moment you hated him. Each and every time, he took it. He yearned for it. He wants it to repeat over and over.
Suguru could feel it in every brush of cold air, in every movement you made. There was nothing left of the person you once were. You were no longer the girl who had loved him, the one who smiled and laughed, whose touch brought him comfort.
What was left was a hollow shell of your soul, twisted and broken by his actions. The broken body of a ghost that wanted nothing more to be free. To hate him, to love him and to leave him. And yet, despite knowing this, despite knowing that he had destroyed you beyond recognition, he still couldn’t let you go.
It was his greed that bound you, his selfish desire to keep you close, no matter what you had become. Even now, even as you haunted him, as you tormented him with your presence, he clung to you like you were his last lifeline.
He convinced himself that this was you, that this cursed, fractured version of your spirit was the real you coming back to him. He needed to believe it because the alternative; the idea that you were gone, truly gone, was too painful to bear.
In his twisted mind, he told himself that you stayed because you loved him. That even though he had shattered your soul, even though he had ripped you away from everything you knew, you still came back to him. You came back because you loved him the most. And that was enough for him, even if it wasn’t the truth.
But the truth was something he could never fully escape. He knew, deep down, that you hated him. He saw it in the way your spirit lashed out at him at night, the way you hovered over him, watching him with eyes that burned with anger and grief.
Sometimes, when the room grew still and dark, he could feel your hands—those same hands that once touched him with love—wrap around his throat, cold and vengeful, pressing down as if you were trying to choke the life from him. You wanted him dead. He knew that.
There were extreme nights, when you would feel your death over and over again. Where you would feel the anger and the grief and the pain overwhelm you. In those nights, you tried to kill him. Your cold, spectral fingers would tighten around his neck or press into his chest, making his heart race with terror.
He would wake in a panic, gasping for air, drenched in sweat, his body shaking from the closeness of death. And yet, even as he lay there, heart pounding, knowing you had just tried to take his life, he couldn’t let you go. The more you hated him, the more he needed to keep you close.
"I know you hate me, my love." he whispered one night, after waking from another attack. His voice was hoarse, his throat raw from where your ghostly fingers had pressed down on his windpipe.
"I deserve it. I deserve all of it. But… you came back to me, didn’t you? You could’ve gone anywhere, but you came back to me."
There was no answer, just the icy stillness that filled the room, but he swore he could feel you there, hovering just out of sight, watching him with those same cold, dead eyes as you kept pushing over and over again. You wanted him to die. You wanted him to pay. But he could see it too, how you wanted to stop yourself too.
"Even if you hate me, I need you here." he continued, his voice breaking. "Because you love me… you still love me, right?"
The silence stretched on, and for a moment, he almost believed he could hear your voice, your real voice, telling him that it was true. That you did love him, even after everything. That you wanted to say sorry over and over again.
But then, the familiar cold returned, creeping up his spine like the touch of death itself, and he felt your hands again, tighten against his skin. Only this time, colder, harsher, more brutal. More willing to kill. More willing to take his life in revenge. He had never seen you like this before. He had never seen you so angry at him before.
And he knew he deserved it. He knew it is what you should feel. He hurt people, he hurt you. He killed you. You had every right to want to take his life for yours. Even like this. Even after all this time. He would let you. As he had done before, he lay himself defenseless, at your mercy. He was ready to be taken to hell by your angelic arms. Even if he didn't deserve it. You pressed harder, digging into his flesh, as if you were trying to crush him.
"I’m sorry. I’m so sorry." he gasped, fighting for air, tears blurring his vision as he clawed at the emptiness around him. "I’m sorry for everything! But I can’t— I can’t let you go."
And that was the truth. No matter how much you hated him, no matter how many times you tried to kill him in the dead of night, he couldn’t let go of what little was left of you. You were all he had, even if what remained of you was a cursed, vengeful spirit, twisted by his own cruelty.
You were the only thing in his world that still meant anything. You were the last piece of the life he had destroyed, and he would cling to you, even if it killed him. Because that's the only way he could survive. That's the only way he could continue with this. Life is meaningless if you cannot be there. Even if it's to hurt him.
He hated himself for it. He hated the way his greed had tainted your soul, how his selfishness had turned you into this monstrous version of the woman he loved. The promise he had made was his failure. His eternal mistake. But it didn’t matter. In his broken mind, this was better than nothing.
"I’ll keep you with me, my love." he whispered, even as your fingers gripped his throat once more, sending waves of pain through his body. "Even if you kill me, I’ll never let you go."
For a moment, you were silent.
You just keep pushing on and on.
But he could see it as clear as day.
Tears were falling down on your face.
"I know." He croaks out with a struggle. He could feel his skin turn blue and purple as you kept pushing. "I....I know."
No, he thinks to himself. He will never truly know.
He was still alive.
And you were dead.
▐░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▌
MISERY HAS COME TO AN END. This was what he had been waiting for since that day he had taken your life. He couldn't wait for it. He wanted for it to be over. He wanted for it to be done. As Geto Suguru lay there, life slowly draining from his body, Gojo Satoru stood above him, his face unreadable but filled with a deep, unspoken sadness.
The air around them felt thick, charged with the weight of years gone by, of a friendship that had crumbled under the weight of Suguru’s choices. But there was something else in that moment, something that Suguru had felt long before Gojo Satoru arrived. There was a presence that lingered, watching, always there. You.
You stood in the shadows, just out of reach but ever-present, as you had been for so long. He could feel your gaze, cold and sharp, cutting through the haze of his fading consciousness. He didn’t need to see you to know you were there; he always knew. Even as his body weakened, even as death crept closer, you were the one thing he could still feel.
Suguru's breathing was ragged, each breath a struggle, but he forced his eyes to focus, searching for you through the mist of pain and regret. And there you were—silent, ghostly, unchanged in the years that had passed since he had taken your life. 
Your face was a mixture of sorrow and rage, just as it always had been since you had become this cursed existence. It was so real, it felt so real. You were here. He had made you this way, and he knew it. The weight of that knowledge pressed down on him harder than any physical pain ever could.
“I knew you’d be here, my love.” he rasped, his voice weak, barely above a whisper. Blood trickled from his mouth, but he didn’t care. All that mattered now was you.
You stared at him, your eyes burning with the same hatred and sorrow that had haunted him for so long. But behind that, there was something else, something deeper that had always lingered between you….love. It was fractured, twisted by the years of torment, but it was still there, in the way you watched him now, waiting.
"I—" He coughed, the pain wracking his body, but he forced the words out, knowing he didn’t have much time. "I’m sorry… I’m so sorry. For everything. For what I did to you. For taking you away. I never wanted it to be like this."
Your expression didn’t change, but Geto Suguru could feel the weight of your emotions. He could always feel it, the depth of your pain, your anger, and the love that had been tainted by his cruelty.
"I don’t deserve forgiveness, my love." he continued, his voice trembling, "I know that. I don’t even ask for it. But… I need you to stay with me." His purple eyes, dark and filled with regret, locked onto yours.
"Hate me. Keep hating me for what I did. I deserve it. Stay angry. Stay hurt. Just—" His voice cracked, and for a moment, the mask of strength he had worn for so long fell away, revealing the broken man beneath. "Just don’t leave me."
You didn’t move, but something in your gaze softened, just for a moment, and Suguru’s heart clenched.
"I need you to keep loving me." he whispered, barely audible now, the strength leaving him with each breath. "Even if it’s hate. Even if it’s anger. Please… don’t ever leave. Stay with me, even in death."
There was silence for a long moment, the world around him fading, the edges of reality blurring. Gojo Satoru’s presence was there, a silent witness to this final moment, but all Suguru could focus on was you. The one person he had loved, the one person he had destroyed.
And in that silence, he thought he saw you nod. It wasn’t forgiveness. He knew that you could never give him that. Not even if you wanted to. So, he didn’t expect that. But it was something, a promise of sorts, that you would remain, that you would stay by his side, even in the twisted, cursed way you had been for so long.
You had no other choice. You were tied to him. Even if you were an angel, you were his to have killed. And you were his to keep. One way or another, you were doomed with him.
As the light in his eyes began to dim, Suguru let out one last breath, his body finally succumbing to the weight of it all. But even as the world around him slipped away, he felt you there, just as he had always wanted. He wanted forever. He wanted you to be bound to him, through love, hate, and everything in between.
And for the first time in what felt like an eternity, Geto Suguru felt a sense of peace, knowing that in death, you would never leave his side.
As Suguru’s body lay still, life finally left him, your form so long bound to his cursed existence, everything had begun to change. The air around you shifted, the heaviness that had weighed you down for years slowly lifting.
You had been tied to him for so long, your soul twisted by the hatred and sorrow of what he had done to you. But now, with his death, the curse that had held you in this half-life, in this torment, began to unravel.
You felt it—slowly, like a breath you hadn’t taken in so many years. The pull that had kept you bound to him, the chains of guilt, anger, and love, began to fade. It wasn’t quick; the pain was still there, raw and deep, but it was easing, loosening its grip on your soul.
The twisted form you had taken, the vengeful ghost that had followed Suguru through every step, began to dissolve. You were withering away, piece by piece, the curse unraveling like a thread in the wind.
But there was no joy in it. No relief. Instead, as you felt your spirit beginning to break free, something strange and unexpected filled you—grief.
The years of anger, hatred, and sorrow were fading, and with them, the love you had once held so deeply for him, a love that had persisted despite everything. As the curse released its grip on you, tears began to fall, silent and steady, down your ghostly face.
Gojo Satoru stood above Geto Suguru, watching it all unfold. He had always known about you, the shadow that haunted his best friend, the curse that Suguru had created out of his own guilt and selfish love. 
But seeing it now, seeing the way your form withered away, your tears falling like echoes of a past long gone, it struck him in a way he hadn’t expected. He didn’t need to see the full story to understand what you were; what you had been to Suguru, and what he had taken from you.
Your tears shimmered in the fading light, and Gojo Satoru, ever perceptive, caught the faint glisten of them. He could feel the depth of your pain, even now, as you began to fade from the world.
The sight of your sorrow, of your spirit being freed but still weighed down by the lingering grief, hit something in him that he rarely allowed anyone to see. His usual mask of indifference slipped, just for a moment, and he sighed softly.
“Love really is the worst curse, huh.” he murmured to himself, his voice low, almost as though he were speaking to the empty air, to you.
He understood, more than most, how love could bind, twist, and destroy. He had seen it countless times in the lives of others, and now, here, at the end of everything, he saw it in Suguru’s last moments and in your ghostly form, finally free but forever marked by what had been done to you.
You didn’t answer him—you couldn’t. Your form was fading faster now, the last remnants of your curse dissolving into the air. But as you disappeared, your tears fell one last time, a final release of all the pain you had carried, of all the love and hate that had twisted you into what you had become.
Gojo watched you until there was nothing left, just the faint whisper of your presence lingering in the silence. He looked down at Suguru, his once closest friend, and felt a deep, bittersweet sorrow wash over him. He knew that, in the end, both of you had been cursed by love, in different ways. And now, both of you are gone.
With one last glance at the empty space where your spirit had been, Gojo Satoru sighed again, his heart heavy. What a tragedy of a life it all had been.
"Yeah……" he whispered to himself. "The worst curse of all."
244 notes · View notes
syluslnd · 1 day ago
Note
Hello! Thank you for your service omg ur single handedly carrying Sylus nation‼️🙏🏼
Can I request a scenario where reader (who isn’t MC) has been a long term situationship of Sylus, like they’re very much in love but refuse to commit because of the dangerous nature of their work in the N109 zone, but reader really hopes they’ll end up together, only for all her hopes to come crashing down when suddenly MC shows up and Sylus becomes really neglectful towards reader, only prioritising MC until one day he doesn’t accompany reader to one onichynus’s deals and it goes horribly wrong with the reader getting hurt/abducted. Angst to fluff pls a happy ending with Sylus coming to his senses 😮‍💨
when you become his second priority
Tumblr media
tags-angst with eventual fluff,mentions of violence
The night sky over Onychinus’s sprawling cityscape was studded with stars, casting a subtle glow through the towering high-rises.
Sylus had suggested the two of you head out for a mission, a deal with some Onychinus contacts. As usual, you couldn’t resist tagging along, always thrilled to be close to him in his world.
Sylus, tall and intimidating as ever, glanced down at you with a glimmer of amusement in his red eyes. You could tell he was ready to take control of the situation like he always did, exuding confidence and calm in a way that made you feel safe, even in the darkest parts of his world. He looked over at you, his eyes softening slightly as he murmured, “You ready, kitten?”
“Of course, I’m with you” you replied with a grin, bouncing a little as you slid into the passenger seat of one of his luxurious cars. Your bubbly energy was contagious; he always acted as if he wasn’t affected by it but you’d caught him smirking more than once.
Tonight, he rolled his eyes in mock exasperation but his hand settled on yours, holding it a little too long to be casual.
As he drove through the city, you admired the skyline, sharing random stories about your day and small, happy details about your favorite things.
Sylus listened, nodding occasionally, a slight smirk on his face, though his eyes stayed mostly on the road. At a red light, he finally turned, letting his gaze linger on you. “You know, sweetie, you’d be a lot safer if you didn’t join me on these things” he said, but there was a softness in his voice, a hint of protectiveness beneath his usual hard edge.
You gave a playful pout. “Then who’d keep you company and make you laugh?” you teased, reaching over to ruffle his hair lightly. Sylus gave an exaggerated sigh, though you could see his lips twitch, fighting off a smile.
When you arrived at the Onychinus base, the atmosphere shifted. The bustling headquarters buzzed with energy and you could feel the tension as the meeting began.
Sylus’s demeanor turned serious, his attention sharp and unwavering as he led the deal. You watched him, entranced by his confidence and poise. His eyes, intense and calculating, scanned the room, noting every movement and gesture of those around him. It was moments like these that reminded you why he was so respected—and feared.
The deal itself moved forward without any issues but you stayed close, offering your support however you could. Sylus kept one arm loosely draped around you, like a silent reminder that you were his, his “kitten” in this dangerous world. Every now and then, he’d murmur a soft “Stay close, sweetie” his voice laced with the quiet authority you’d come to adore.
At one point, the meeting wrapped up and you were alone again with Sylus in the hallway leading back to the car. As you walked side-by-side, you took his hand, squeezing it gently and looked up at him with a playful grin. “See? We make a great team.”
Sylus chuckled lowly, his fingers tightening around yours. “Careful, kitten” he murmured, his voice dropping to a tone that sent a shiver down your spine. “I might just start believing that.”
He leaned closer, brushing his lips against your forehead with a rare tenderness that he’d only ever shown to you. Moments like these made you wonder if there was something deeper between you both. But for now, you were happy in this undefined space, enjoying his closeness, his rare softness and the way he let his guard down just enough to show you how much you meant to him.
For tonight, you were his and he was yours in the only way he knew how to be and as you laughed and chatted on the drive back, you couldn’t have known how precious that laughter would soon become.
the next morning the café was small and tucked into a quiet corner of the city, with floor-to-ceiling windows that let in soft morning light and gave the place a warm, cozy glow.
You felt an excited shiver as Sylus guided you in, his hand on your lower back, a gentle but firm presence that never failed to make you feel special. The café wasn’t his usual scene but he seemed relaxed, perhaps indulging your love for quieter, more intimate places.
He glanced around, then met your eyes, his mouth quirking into a smirk. “This place…suits you” he murmured, pulling out a chair for you. “Sweet, but a little chaotic.”
You laughed, sticking your tongue out at him. “I’d say the same about you” you teased, settling into the chair. He rolled his eyes but took the seat opposite you, resting his elbows on the table, leaning in close. His gaze, as usual, felt intense, even as his expression softened.
“You’re in a bratty mood today, aren’t you?” he remarked, voice low and slightly teasing.
“Only because you make it so easy” you replied with a smile, reaching across the table to gently tap his hand. “So, what’s the plan? You’re the one who dragged me out here.”
His smirk grew, and without saying a word, he raised a finger to get the barista’s attention. When she arrived, he placed the most absurd order, one that left you wide-eyed: every single flavor of coffee they had on the menu. You tried to protest, laughing as you looked from him to the poor barista, but he only shrugged, looking unbothered.
“You said you always wanted to try them all” he said, leaning back in his seat, arms folded. “So go ahead. Indulge.”
“Oh my god, Sylus!” You felt a mix of embarrassment and excitement. “You know I was joking about that, right?”
He raised an eyebrow. “You don’t joke about things you want, kitten. Not with me.”
The coffees started arriving, filling up your small table with an assortment of steaming mugs, each one a different shade and aroma. Sylus watched as you eagerly tried each, laughing when you made a face at the overly bitter or strangely flavored ones and taking note of the ones that made you hum with satisfaction. Occasionally, he’d reach out, taking a sip of one of the cups himself, then giving you his quiet, amused approval if he liked it.
After a while, you found yourself leaning across the table, sharing sips from the same cup, your laughter mingling in the cozy warmth of the café. You watched him, noticing the rare moments where his features softened, and his usual guarded expression gave way to something gentler.
“Did you always know you’d be leading Onychinus?” you asked, a little more curious now that you’d settled into the warmth of the moment.
He leaned back, tracing the edge of his cup with one finger, his gaze drifting. “I didn’t know. But it wasn’t like I had a choice.” His eyes found yours again, something dark but honest in them. “The things you don’t choose often become the things you’re best at.”
You tilted your head, studying him. “Well, I’m glad you didn’t have a choice” you replied softly. “Otherwise, who’d be here buying me twenty coffees?”
He chuckled, a genuine laugh that you rarely heard. “You’d find some other poor fool, I’m sure” he said, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. But his hand moved to cover yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.
Just as you were about to respond, his phone buzzed, and his gaze darkened. He glanced at the screen, and for a split second, his expression changed—hardened into something unreadable. He sat up, pulling his hand away from yours and the warmth that had been between you seemed to evaporate in an instant.
You tried to catch his eye, feeling a flicker of unease. “Everything okay?”
“It’s just an…old friend” he muttered, voice suddenly cool and distant. He stood up, turning his back to you as he answered the call, his voice low and strained in a way you’d never heard before.
You couldn’t make out much of what he was saying, but you heard the shift in his tone—calculated, restrained, almost careful. It was a stark contrast to the teasing, soft-spoken Sylus you’d been with just moments before. He kept glancing out the window, one hand shoved deep in his pocket, the other clutching his phone tightly. His words became hushed, tense, as if he was guarding some important secret.
Your mind raced with questions but you pushed them down, trying to respect his privacy. Still, a pang of worry settled in your chest as he finally ended the call, his posture stiff as he turned back to you. The usual warmth in his eyes was absent, replaced by a distant, almost guarded look.
“Sorry about that” he said, his tone flat, almost dismissive, as he pocketed his phone.
You forced a smile, hoping to ease the sudden tension. “No problem. Everything okay?”
“Nothing to worry about.” He gave a faint smile but it didn’t reach his eyes. He seemed distracted and as much as you wanted to believe him, there was a nagging feeling that something had shifted.
It had been days since you’d last seen Sylus. The texts you’d sent were sparse on replies—short, curt answers that only seemed to grow colder each time. You told yourself he was busy, wrapped up in some new mission for Onychinus but an uneasy feeling had settled deep in your chest. You remembered the way he’d brushed you off in the café after that mysterious phone call, the way he’d shut down, closing himself off as if you were suddenly a stranger.
With the next Onychinus deal approaching, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong. Usually, Sylus would be the one preparing you, going over every little detail so that you’d be safe. But this time, there had been nothing—no message, no warning, no instructions. The silence weighed on you, suffocating, until finally, you couldn’t bear it anymore.
You found yourself standing outside his office door, hesitating. The hall was eerily quiet, an atmosphere that felt darker than it had ever been. You pushed the door open slowly, your heart pounding with a mixture of hope and dread.
Inside, Sylus stood near his desk, leaning in close to a woman you’d never seen before. She had an aura of quiet confidence, her gaze sharp, as if she were sizing him up even as they talked. Their heads were close together, too close. She said something, her tone low and laced with a teasing edge and Sylus chuckled—a sound that sent a chill down your spine. It was the kind of laugh he used to share with you.
You swallowed, forcing yourself to step forward. “Sylus?” your voice cracked, the warmth you usually brought into his space muted by the weight of everything unsaid.
Sylus straightened, his expression darkening the moment he saw you. The easy humor that had filled his face just seconds before vanished, replaced by a cold, impassive mask. The woman beside him glanced at you, her eyes glinting with a kind of curiosity, as though she were sizing you up, wondering what your place in Sylus’s life could possibly be.
“You’re busy” you managed to say, fighting to keep your tone light. “I just thought—I thought we could talk about the next mission.”
He looked at you for a long, silent moment, his gaze empty of the warmth you’d come to expect, replaced by an iciness that felt almost cruel. “I didn’t ask you to come here” he said, his voice low and cutting.
You took a step back, stunned. “Sylus, I…I just wanted to help. You always said I could be useful—”
“You should learn to know your place” he interrupted, his words sharp enough to cut through your heart. He didn’t look away, didn’t flinch. His gaze was steely, indifferent, as though you were nothing more than an inconvenience, a shadow he hadn’t meant to let linger.
It felt like the floor had fallen out from under you. “My place?” you echoed, trying to keep your voice steady even as it threatened to break. “Sylus, what’s going on? You’ve been distant… I thought we—” You stopped yourself, swallowing back the words, but the damage was done.
Sylus’s gaze flicked to the woman beside him, who watched the exchange with an amused smirk, her arms crossed as if she were enjoying every moment of this. He turned back to you, his eyes devoid of any kindness, any of the softness he’d shown you only days ago. “You thought wrong.”
Your throat tightened and the warmth that had once filled your shared moments now felt like a distant memory, slipping through your fingers. You forced yourself to nod, to keep your head up even as your heart shattered with each second of his cold stare. Without another word, you turned and left, not wanting him to see the tears that threatened to spill over, the silent pain you’d carry alone as you walked away from the one person who’d ever made you feel whole.
The drive home felt like a blur, headlights and streetlights passing in a haze as you wiped away tears that wouldn’t stop. Your hands gripped the steering wheel, knuckles turning white, as your mind raced with everything that had just happened. It was like you couldn’t make sense of it; every memory of Sylus’s familiar warmth and teasing words felt out of reach, replaced by his cold, indifferent face and that harsh tone. His words, “Know your place” echoed in your head, hitting you harder each time you thought of them. You couldn’t understand. Had you pushed him too far? Had he been pretending all along?
The question lingered, gnawing at you as the car rolled down the empty roads leading home. By the time you reached your place, you were exhausted, the adrenaline replaced by a deep, hollow ache.
The next morning, after another sleepless night, you found yourself staring at his contact on your phone, debating whether to call him. The memory of his sharp tone still stung but the confusion was unbearable. You couldn’t just let things stay like this.
Finally, you pressed call, holding your breath as the phone rang. When he picked up, his voice was casual, almost dismissive, as if the tension from yesterday had never happened.
“Yeah?” he answered, sounding distracted. There was no warmth, but there was none of that anger, either.
“Hey” you managed, your voice wavering slightly. “I… I wanted to talk about yesterday.”
“Yesterday?” he repeated, his tone barely interested. “Is something wrong?”
Your heart sank. He was acting like it hadn’t happened at all, like you were the one imagining things. “I just thought—after what you said, I thought maybe we could… clear things up.”
He let out a long sigh, almost like he was bored. “Look, I have things to take care of. If that’s all, I have to go.”
Your grip tightened around the phone, and you felt a chill run through you as he continued talking, casual, unaffected, as if he hadn’t torn into you less than 24 hours ago. He ended the call with a brief “Take care” leaving you standing there with the silence of the empty line.
It was like a stranger had replaced him overnight and the warmth you’d felt was now a painful memory, drifting further out of reach.
The night of the Onychinus deal was bitterly cold and a dense mist clung to the riverbank, muting every sound but the rush of water. You had been hoping—secretly, quietly—that maybe Sylus would show up, that his absence would somehow break and you’d see him standing there with that familiar smirk, ready to tackle the mission together. But the minutes ticked by and the waiting grew heavier, settling like a weight in your chest until the deal began without him.
but in an instant things went horribly wrong, spiraling out of control faster than you could react. You held on as long as you could, fighting with everything you had, but there were too many of them and you were alone. A sharp, searing pain was the last thing you remembered before everything went black, the sound of rushing water filling your senses as you were tossed into the cold, merciless depths of the river.
When the news reached Sylus, it felt like a blow to the chest, robbing him of breath. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing—the thought of you alone, vulnerable, facing the dangers he’d promised to shield you from. His mind raced, replaying every interaction, every cold word he’d thrown at you and the realization clawed at him with an intensity he hadn’t expected. Guilt twisted in his stomach, a relentless ache, as he thought of the way he’d pushed you aside, how he’d let you walk away, hurt and confused and for what?
He moved quickly, barely registering the world around him as he reached the river, scanning the dark waters until he found you, still and pale, lying half-submerged on the riverbank. His heart pounded, a surge of panic piercing through his usual composure as he dropped to his knees, pulling you into his arms with a desperation he hadn’t felt in years.
“Kitten…” His voice cracked, the endearments he’d so easily tossed at you before now carrying a weight they’d never held before. He brushed damp hair from your face, his hands shaking as he checked for a pulse. Relief flooded him when he felt the faint, steady beat beneath his fingertips, but it did nothing to quell the terror that gnawed at him.
“Why the hell did you go alone?” he whispered, his voice trembling with guilt and grief. “You should have known better than to… God, this is all my fault.” He held you closer, pressing his forehead to yours as if his touch alone could bring you back from the brink. Regret crashed over him like a tidal wave, every moment he’d ignored you, every cold word he’d thrown at you haunting him as he realized just how deeply he’d driven you away.
“I’m so sorry, kitten” he murmured, the words spilling out, raw and unfiltered. “I was stupid. I was a fool. You didn’t deserve any of it.” His fingers brushed over your face, tracing the lines of your features as if committing them to memory and he swore to himself that he’d never let you go again.
238 notes · View notes
vigilante-3073 · 3 days ago
Text
All Those Who Go Unnoticed
Evan Buckley x Female Reader
Summary: Evan Buckley has always been left behind and forgotten about. What happens when someone finally decides to stay?
TW: Mentions of neglect and self-deprecating thoughts, angst, friends to lovers.
Tumblr media
Evan Buckley was born to serve a purpose that he could not fulfill. His parents only had another child in a futile attempt to save his older brother Daniel. After his brother had passed away, Buck's parents treated him like he was a waste of space. Everything he did was wrong and he couldn't seem to ever find himself in their good graces.
Buck relied on his older sister Maddie for years until she eventually left him behind to start a life of her own. Buck left home as soon as he could, but struggled to find himself for years. He bounced between jobs in search of something that could make him feel like he mattered.
Everything fell into place when he decided to become a firefighter.
Buck loved his job at the 118, he saved lives everyday with some of the most amazing people he had ever met. He found a family that valued him and treated him how he deserved to be treated. Despite having everything he had spent his life searching for, Buck still felt like nothing he did was good enough.
He could have been smarter. He could have been faster. He could have done more.
Buck had never told anyone how critical he could be of himself. It was something that he always dealt with, definitely a mindset created by his parents.
Buck always felt like he had to prove himself and show everyone that he had value. It was a never-ending quest that weighed on him heavily.
Y/N had quickly become Buck's best friend when he joined the 118 all those years ago. She was a firefighter-paramedic and she was great at her job. Y/N never doubted herself and Buck admired her tenacity, especially when people challenged her in the field.
Y/N and Buck hardly went a day without seeing each other. He felt like his day wasn't complete until he talked to her.
They were the kind of friends that could have a 4-hour long video call while doing chores around the house or spend all day just chatting about nothing in particular. They knew everything there was to know about each other and seemed to share a brain at times.
Buck had never felt seen until he met Y/N.
Y/N always brought him into conversations or found her way over to him when she could tell he was pulling back. Y/N knew about how hard Buck could be on himself, she could tell when he was overthinking and was able to pull him out of that mindset.
"You need to be kinder to yourself, Buck," Y/N had told him one night when he was alone in the locker room after a rough shift.
"I'll try," He had replied.
Buck thought about that interaction quite often, he was always beating himself up for things he had little control over and it needed to end.
It was a hard cycle to break, but he was trying, and he was trying because of her.
...
Buck watched Y/N talk animatedly to Hen and Karen about a book they had all been reading. They laughed loudly at something she said before Hen began sharing her own thoughts on the book.
Y/N looked over, locking eyes with Buck from across the yard and sending him a small wave with a smile. He waved back, watching her as she returned to her conversation.
Bobby took a seat at the patio table beside Buck, "So, when are you gonna ask her out?" He questioned.
Buck's eyebrows raised, "Oh, no, I was just-," He started, "Save the excuse, I can tell that you like her as more than a friend," Bobby said with a knowing smile.
Buck looked down at the table with a sigh, picking at the label on his beer bottle with his thumb nail, "She's way too good for me," Buck said.
"What makes you say that?" Bobby asked.
Buck shrugged, "She's amazing and I'm just me... I don't deserve her," He stated.
"Buck, you're a good guy but you need to know when to get out of your own way. Don't overthink it, just ask her out. I'm almost 100% sure she would say yes if you asked her out on a date," Bobby assured.
"Almost 100%?" Buck asked.
"99.9% sure," Bobby amended.
Buck looked over at her to find her making her way over to the cooler full of drinks. He stood up from his seat and made his way over to her.
"Hey," He greeted.
"Hey, I was wondering when you were gonna stop hiding away in the corner," Y/N teased.
"Can I ask you something?" Buck questioned, "Of course," Y/N replied.
"Um, you can totally tell me if I'm looking at this the wrong way, but is there something- I don't know... Is there something more than friendship between us?" He asked.
"Do you want there to be something more?" Y/N asked.
"I think I do," Buck answered hesitantly.
Relief washed over him when a smile broke out across her face, "I do too," She said.
"Oh my god, you have no idea how fast my heart is beating right now," Buck said, huffing out a soft laugh.
Y/N rested her hand on his chest, feeling his heart pound against her palm, "You really weren't kidding. Do you need to sit down?" She asked.
"No, I'm good. I just- Will you go out on a date with me?" He questioned, resting his hand over her's on his chest.
"Of course I'll go out with you, Buck," Y/N replied.
...
Y/N and Buck had been dating for almost a year, she had moved into his apartment and everything seemed amazing. Buck still felt like he was waiting for the day she found someone better and left him in the dust, but she chose him each and every day.
Buck had never felt like the center of attention, he always went above and beyond to be noticed, but it was effortless with Y/N. Buck felt like he was being seen after a lifetime of feeling invisible and it was the best feeling in the world. He couldn't think of a way to repay Y/N for bringing him to life again.
Until he did.
He sat at a table in the busy coffee shop, a mug of coffee sat on the table in front of him. Buck felt jittery and he had yet to take a single sip of the hot beverage, instead choosing to watch the door closely. Buck straightened up in his seat as Maddie made her way into the establishment. She walked through the tables before sitting down in the chair across from him.
"Where's Y/N? Is she not coming?" Maddie asked.
"Um, no, actually. I kinda needed some time to talk to you... Alone," Buck said hesitantly, grimacing at his own awkwardness.
Maddie gasped, "Are you going to propose to Y/N?" She asked.
Buck's face fell, "How did you know that? I didn't even say anything yet," He questioned.
"I just knew," Maddie grinned, "Aw, Buck, this is so exciting!" She said.
"Yeah, I've been thinking about it for a while now. I mean, with everything we've gone through this year, I don't want to spend anymore time not being together, y'know?" Buck questioned.
"I do," Maddie said.
"I think she's my person, Maddie," Buck admitted.
Maddie smiled, her eyes glossing over with happy tears, "She definitely is, Evan," She said.
"I was wondering if you had some time today to help me pick out a ring. I've looked around a little bit, but I'm kinda useless at this stuff," He said.
"Of course I'll help. Do you have any idea what kind of ring she may want?" Maddie asked.
"I think she likes the ones with the jewel that's shaped like an egg," Buck said slowly.
"This is going to be a very long and expensive day for you, little brother," Maddie sighed with a smile.
179 notes · View notes
slutforfictionalwomen · 3 days ago
Text
Just relax
Kinktober day 28
Natasha Romanoff x Fem Reader
Main kinks: mommy kink
Word count: 1,2K
Summary: You're in a bad mood, and your mommy is just trying to cheer you up.
Warnings: Smut, mommy kink, praise kink, fluff, soft sex, cunnilingus, fingering, begging.
(Please tell me if I forgot anything)
"What's really going on, baby?" It's late in the evening, and you've just come down to get a snack. Ever since you got home in the afternoon, Natasha has noticed your annoyed attitude.
You rummage through the cupboard, clearly still irritated for whatever reason. Natasha notices you making a mess of her cupboard and decides to help you find what you need.
You're a young college student with strict Christian parents. When the 39 year old Natasha met you, you still lived with your parents because you couldn't afford an apartment. She took you in, and quickly, things started to bloom between the two of you.
"Sweetie, please tell me what happened. I'll get you the snacks you're craving, but please just tell me what's going on." Natasha's hand in on the small of your back, rubbing the circles with her thumb she knows you go crazy for.
Finally, you turn to face her. But as soon as your eyes meet hers, tears start running down your face. Natasha immediately pulls you into a hug, whispering sweet words in your ear.
"All my classmates are having a Halloween party at campus, including my friends. I'm not invited, I'm the only one in our form who isn't," you sob into Natasha's shoulder. The older woman is shocked by what you tell her, how could everyone be invited except for her sweet girl?
"Honey, are you sure they didn't just forget they hadn't invited you yet?" Natasha keeps rubbing circles on your back, not pulling away from the hug. You immediately speak in sobs again, "No, I asked at what time and where it exactly was., but they said it was a stupid question because I wasn't invited anyway." Saying that last sentence out loud breaks you again.
"Oh baby," Natasha pulls away from the hug to wipe away your tears. Your poor little face has makeup smudged all over it, your eyeliner long gone. "You know what? I'll give you an extra nice day, we can have fun without those stupid college people. But first we need to clean your face, pretty girl."
Natasha has gently washed your face with a cloth and warm water. She also helped you change into some more comfortable clothes.
Now she wants you to decide whatever you want to do. She has named multiple examples, like watching a movie, shopping, or swimming.
However, you found out about a place to cuddle with goats near your house, and that is what you want to do.
It's only a ten minute walk away from Natasha's house. "This is a rather funny activity, but I could've expected it from an animal lover like you." Natasha presses a soft kiss to your hand, a gesture that still makes you blush.
There's only a few other people, people with little kids. It reminds you of how you used to spend time at a similar place at home when you were little. You pull Natasha just a bit closer.
You end up having a lot of fun. Natasha acts like a typical mum, petting the animals but keeping a bit of a distance and taking pictures of you. She loves seeing you happy like this, having fun out of just playing with goats.
The two of you decide to go by Starbucks on the way home, getting coffee and a sweet treat. You attempt to pay for yourself but fail as Natasha refuses to let you. "It's your day, sweetheart."
Natasha picks out a table with a booth for you. You start sipping on your drink and eating your muffin when Natasha moves her hand to your upper thigh, softly caressing it. When you try to move her hand away she gives you a warning look, so you just have to put up with the feelings it evokes.
Apparently, that was the idea because Natasha leans down to whisper in your ear. "When we get home, I'll make you feel so good, baby. Better than any Halloween party could ever make you feel. No one could ever make you feel better than I do."
The walk home is uncomfortable with the slick between your legs. As soon as you get home and sit down on the couch, Natasha is all over you. Normally, her kisses are rough, but now she's being soft. Her hands caress your body, whereas they normally grope you in an almost bruising way. She's being the most gentle with you she has ever been.
"Baby, I don't want to do this on the couch today." She takes you upstairs to her room to continue there. Asking you if she can take your shirt off before doing so, she same with the rest of your clothes.
When you're fully naked, she first spends time thoroughly exploring your body with her mouth. "Beg for it, baby," she says when your hands grab her hair.
You think for a moment about whether you want to do as she said or you want to be a brat. Giving in seems the better option right now. "Please mommy, please fuck me. I'm so needy, please!"
Natasha chuckles at your words, how you have learned how to beg properly in the time you've been with her. She kisses down your body, pressing a kiss to the mound of your pussy before speaking, "Such a good girl for mommy."
You whine at the praise, but it turns into a moan as the older woman dives in to lick your pussy. Her tongue disappears to pay attention to your bundle of nerves, making you hold onto her hair tighter.
"You like that, pretty girl? Like it when I praise you and rub your little pussy?" She says before diving back in to suck your clit. She's high on the moans that escape your mouth. You know you can be loud, but you still hold back. Natasha knows that about you and often sees it as a challenge.
She pushes one of her short nailed fingers into your aching hole while keeping up the licks on your sweet spot. The way she curls her finger pulls another loud moan out of you.
The older woman starts thrusting into you, sucking and licking your clit, trying to pull as many sweet moans from you as possible on the way to your orgasm.
She's relentless when it comes to this, whispering sweet words when she can, but mostly keeping her mouth on you. When she feels you getting closer, she adds a finger to your pussy. You immediately clench around it.
"Please mommy I'm gonna cum," you say when Natasha starts to constantly hit your spot with her fingers, while lapping your bundle of nerves with her tongue.
The older woman pulls her mouth away for a second, keeping up the motion with her fingers to not lose your orgasm. "Cum whenever, sweetheart."
It takes seconds for you to reach the edge, fully clenching around her while bucking up and riding out your orgasm. Natasha chuckles at the sweet sounds you make. She pulls her fingers out and cleans up your pussy with her tongue before making you clean her fingers.
"Come on, baby, it's time to take a shower." She takes her clothes off, then she lifts your already naked body up to walk to the bathroom.
171 notes · View notes
starboye · 3 days ago
Text
Kinktober Day 27
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
starring: homelander x male reader
request: sub!thicc femboy ftm reader x dom!homelander where reader is a supe in the seven who is stronger than all the heros and especially homelander but not strong enough in bed?? homelander finds reader in his apartment right in his room trying on the shortest skirts that shows his ass and pink high stockings, reader trys to explain before he gets his ass eaten and fucked raw until he cant breathe properly. i want some breeding kinks and alot of spanking, and ass worship if thats okay? i know ur busy but im just requesting this only if you have time, please and thank you.
warnings: smut, degradation, cursing, dub-con kinda, ass slapping, hair pulling, breeding kink, breathe play sorta, ass eating, fingering, rough sex, creampie, unprotected sex
Tumblr media
being the strongest of the supes was a feat that you never lived down when it came to homelander, your looks were as everyone else would put it 'girly' but can they really say anything when you're more powerful the seven combined and shall we add better looking.
this was especially infuriating to homlander who always had the thought of you being better than him in the back of his head constantly,no one ever took him seriously with threats because they knew you were strong enough to kick his ass.
so what better way to resolve an issue than to show up at your apartment, he knocks at the door "who is it" you yell seemingly running to open the door "homelander" he sternly speaks "you know the rules john, no superhero name in my place" you say letting him in, once more like you always do you shoot him down.
whether that be during missions when you nab the bad guy just when he was about to or talk down on him on minuscule things, it made his blood boil with hatred for you "shoes off at the front door" you add walking back to your room, john silently mocking the way you said it before walking into your room.
he wasn't really shocked when he saw you trying on skirts, it's what you usually wore when not in your superhero suit but what did surprise him is when you try on the most dainty skirts that leave little to nothing to imagination, your ass pretty much spilling out of the bottom.
"what did you want" you ask turning around to look at him, he wasn't all there his mind flooding with what he wanted to do to you and being the psycho he is he acts on those thoughts, bending you over on your bed and ripping off you underwear but leaving the pretty skirt, he spits on his fingers and shove them in you, fingering you open to take his cock.
what first was strained grunts trying to break free from him are now turning into desperate moans loving the way his slender fingers fuck you "who would've thought the sevens strongest member could be so slutty" john teases you shoving his fingers deeper in your tight warmth.
"fuck you john" you say back before dropping your face into the bed and moaning out loudly, homelander slowly pulls his fingers out, strands of saliva following with it as he brings it to his mouth as sucks it off, just when you though he was done he pushes you back into the bed and leans down to your ass, his tongue invading it quickly.
he starts eating you out like a sundae, tongue prodding at every part of your gummy walls, you loved it to, your hands reaching out to grab a pillow and bring it to your face to let out all your dirty sounds, moans and whimper and all of it, john lays a harsh smack on your ass to get those pretty little sounds out again and it works, eliciting broken whines out of you more and more.
he moves from eating you out to nipping his teeth at your ass, sucking at it, or just slapping it continuously, by the end of it you ass is ruined in hickeys and bruises, some teeth marks here and there, he stands up and lowers his pants and underwear "don't worry i'll be done soon" he leans down to whisper in your ear, kissing you neck before leaning back up to then push his cock into you.
that big fucker was splitting your hole in two with how big he was, you were struggling to even choke back moans, john seeing you gives all your moans and sounds to the pillow angered him a little, snatching it from your arms to throw it off to the side and restraining your hands behind your back with his tough grip.
"go ahead moan my name like a fucking slut y/n" he pulls your head up from the bed by your hair to look at you, he was fucking into you so hard you couldn't even answer him let alone breath, your eyes flickering shut but john gets you back awake.
"hey look at me, look at me, this ass is all mine right, ill fuck it whenever and wherever right" he questions, his grips tight on your chin "mhm yes sir im... all yours to ruin" you croak feeling the wind get knocked out of your lungs with every thrust into your hole "m'gonna fill you up nice and good with my cum, hell maybe you can give me a new kid" he chuckle darkly, hand wrapping around your throat to keep you right up next to his face.
while his other hand keeps your ass in place with a firm grip on your hip, after the heavy fucking he cums in you, filling out your stomach to almost bursting, even after a minute or so you could still feel him cumming in you before he finally pulled out of your sloppy hole with a heavy and drawled out groan, releasing you from his dangerously tight grip.
"now who's the stronger supe" he asks lifting your weak head up to look at him "you sir" you weakly say "speak up" he orders "you homelander" you restate with little to no confidence left in you, at this point you were going to be nothing but his bitch.
Tumblr media
taglist:@mailmango @spermeboy @ghostking4m @gayaristocrat @addictedtomalepits @staarb0y @crispysoup318 @its-ares @gargoylesworld09 @kadenvatsune @fuckshft @wompwomp-1mh3re
267 notes · View notes
gatorbites-imagines · 1 day ago
Text
Kinktober day 27
Toji Fushiguro + Weight gain
Tumblr media
Did you guys know I love big guys? I do, very much. They’ve been haunting my mind more than usual lately, like nymphs or incubi, and Toji putting on relationship weight makes me froth at the mouth. Im still very sick, but soft Toji has revived me for a moment.
I think this ended up being more fluff than smut, but oh well. Im still sick, and this is what I wanted to write. Readers a chef of some kind.
2024 kinktober masterlist
Toji Fushiguro had never imagined he’d ever be in a happy relationship after the death of his first wife, especially not to the degree where he didn’t feel the need to go out gambling or hustling for money.
Never in the past did Toji think he could lay back in his big fluffy white bed, with more pillows than he truly needed, but had just because he could for once, with an expensive high-quality duvet draped over his middle.
There was a soft scent of something cooking in the air, something sweet from the way Toji felt his tongue salivate. He only started drooling like an animal for few things, one was money, another was you, and the third was something you had pavloved into him. A love for food, and especially sweets.
Up until he met you, eating had simply been to refuel himself. A way to keep going, to keep fighting and stay in shape so he could keep killing, because what else did he have to live for if not to kill? It was just his love that his latest partner, and the one he wanted to stay with for the rest of his life, also knew how to cook, and seemed to have knack for keeping Toji nice and full.
Part of Toji suspected it came from the fact that he had told you about his past and childhood. How he had grown up starved and abused, living for no specific reason other than to give the rest of his clan someone to turn their ire towards.
Or maybe it was that fact that you had caught his eyes lingering on the cakes and cookie displays when you passed by bakeries, if only for a second. Or when Toji allowed himself to hum in satisfaction when he ate something you cooked, not because you just wanted to give him fuel, but because you loved him, and cooking was one of the ways you showed it.
Toji could hear you talking in the kitchen, your voice soft so as to not wake up, but loud enough for your phone to pick up. He could imagine it was laying on the counter as you chopped or kneaded something, the workers at your workplace calling you on your day off to ask questions they should already know the answer to.
A loud exhale left Toji’s lips as he finally pushed himself to sit up, groaning a bit as he swung his legs out over the side of your way too soft bed. Some days Toji still struggled with sleeping in it. It was too soft, too expensive, too… kind.
It was hard to explain, but you never demanded anything of him, or asked too many questions when Toji grabbed one of the towels from the hallway cupboard and slept on the floor instead of beside you. instead, you simply let one of your hands dangle over the side so that he could grab it, or so it would brush against him every now and then, just so he knew you were there and he wasn’t back where he grew up.
He yawned loudly, enough for his jaw to ache as he stretched. There wasn’t a need to work out just as much as he used too, to the point where Toji did nothing but work out, eat and sleep. Nowadays he actually got to enjoy things, even if those things were still similar to what he liked before.
But sitting at home watching horse racing on the tv was so much better than actually being there, mainly because you were there with him most of the time. And if you weren’t home, Toji still wandered around the city, this time taking out different curses that lingered, since he didn’t want them messing with you or your customer base.
As Toji rubbed a scarred hand through his eyes, he finally forced them open. That was another thing he still wasn’t fully used too. Being allowed to feel sleepy and sluggish, to wake up slowly and just take the day as it came to him.
His hair was getting too long, was the first thought through his head as his eyes landed on himself in the full-length mirror you had in your room. You kept it there for when you put on your uniform, but you two also used it for quite a lot of other things. Toji could almost feel the phantom shape of your fingers on his plush hips, or hear your voice mumble how pretty he was against the back of his ear, as you made him bounce in your lap and watch himself.
Feeling pretty was brand new too, and something still so foreign to Toji. He couldn’t see it, even as he stood in front of the mirror and ran a hand over his soft middle and sides. Sometimes Toji jokes about how you were fattening him up to eat him. It wasn’t anything over the top, but the layer of fat on his body made him seem brighter in a way, like the light that had never been there was put inside his eyes.
Hed been extremely insecure in his own way, when Toji realized he had gained somewhat of a double chin. He had immediately wanted to stop eating anything beside the bare minimum, and place himself back on his unhealthy workout schedule.
It took a longer conversation with you for him to calm down. It wasn’t just a conversation about the human body, and how he had been living wasn’t healthy and it was just his body trying to keep up, but also about his mental state. It was clear he had hated talking about anything vulnerable, but he had felt a little lighter afterwards.
He was still strong, as strong as always if not somehow more, now that his body had all that it needed. Plus, there were a lot of powerful guys out there with some pudge, it was just extra padding, you know?
Still though, it was hard to see what you meant when you said pretty. All the scars on his body put together a horrible patchwork, showing how difficult his life had been up until now. There were still signs of the unhealthy body he had carried all his life, and Toji had a feeling it would never fully go away.
But seeing that softness on himself? It made something new brew inside him. There was a saying that people cut their hair after traumatic periods of their life, something that had never worked on Toji since his life was chaos no matter what hairstyle he carried.
Seeing the physical manifestation of your love reflected back to him through the mirror made Toji feel warm and syrupy on the inside, like the sweet, melted sugar you poured over the top of some of your strawberry pastries.
It was thick, gooey, sweet and boiling hot to the point of danger. And yeah, maybe he did think his body was hot like this, sometimes. But that was mainly because of you and not himself, because he knew it was because you wanted to love him and care for him, and because Toji knew he trusted you enough to do so.
The boiling hot of the melted sugar feeling pooled in his gut, making Toji groan sleepily to himself as he got hard very easily. This was another thing he blamed on you. whod have thought that a life of abuse and mistreatment meant you became touch starved, and how should he have known he would grow sensitive and addicted to the feeling of your hands and lips.
With a huff, Toji shuffled into the pair of slippers you had bought for him when he first moved in. “the floor gets cold” you had said, as if Toji hadn’t sleep on ice cold bloody floors for years, and as if he was bothered by the cold floors at all. but he wore them, because Toji knew they were from you, and he knew you wanted him too.
The scent of your cooking grew stronger as Toji finally stepped out of your shared bedroom, his feet carrying him down the stairs and towards the large kitchen you were toiling away in. In the beginning, Toji hadn’t been completely sure how to act in the large home you lived in.
he had grown up in a giant home, but he wasn’t allowed to see it as such. And Toji had dated people before with mansions, but that had been to get money from them. With you he actually wanted to make an effort, surprising even himself.
But over time he grew comfortable, like one of those battle worn tomcats you brought in, with the giant puffy cheeks and barely any ears left. The ones that got so comfortable and purred like an old broken car. The way Toji would drape across your lap truly made him seem like one some days, which always had you cracking a joke even if Toji acted like he hated the nickname.
You had gotten so used to your partner moving around without any noise that you only gave a small jump as Toji leaned against your back, his scarred lips pressed against the side of your neck. “Morning handsome” you hum happily, leaning back against him since you couldn’t use your hands.
Toji just grumbled a bit, still sounding so sleepy and comfortable and he rolled his hips against your ass, just to show you what kind of day it was gonna be. A short smirk pulled at your lips as you made a questioning noise, rubbing back against him to see what he had planned.
But Toji didn’t have the energy or will to do anything extreme, he just wanted to lean his chubby torso against your back, as his soft but still so powerful and deadly arms curled around your waist, and his chin rested on your shoulder.
He snapped up the piece of fruit you held up to him like the hungry tomcat you always compared him too, the kind that always ate like it was its last meal even if it was fed multiple times a day. It always saddened you a bit to think about, but seeing him munch up anything you made with such gusto at least made you smile, knowing all your efforts were appreciated.
And you had a feeling Toji wouldn’t mind too much if you got his help to add a different glazing than you had planned to the fruit you had been cutting up. It was only you two that were gonna eat it anyways, right?
154 notes · View notes
wifeyoozi · 2 days ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Mr. Lee Pick-me Jihoon
No because Lee Jihoon in love is utterly the most pick-me, cringey, sore loser kinda guy. Jihoon’s got this whole complex about being the perfect boyfriend, but he ends up looking like the most obvious, over-the-top lovesick mess, convinced he’s the coolest guy in the world for it. He tries to play it smooth, like he’s effortlessly romantic and all-knowing about relationships, but it’s so clear to anyone with half an eye that he’s absolutely whipped—and trying way too hard. He somehow misses the irony every single time, basking in this self-made illusion that he’s doing the most “under-the-radar” job at being completely devoted.
It’s hilarious how he’ll throw himself into these “sacrifices” for you, like he’s some kind of knight in shining armor, going out of his way for the smallest things. Once, you casually mentioned craving a certain drink from a café clear across town. The next thing you know, Jihoon’s blowing up your phone with updates as he embarks on this “heroic” journey to get it for you, acting like he’s in some epic quest. He makes a whole show out of sighing dramatically when he gets back, sweat on his brow, handing over the drink like he just saved the kingdom, while casting you these little glances to see if you’re as impressed as he thinks you should be. It’s cringey and way over the top, and yet somehow endearing—because only Jihoon would turn a coffee run into an Oscar-worthy production.
Then there’s his obsession with being “different.” He’s convinced that he’s unlike any other boyfriend out there, a “hopeless romantic” who just gets it. The first time he tried to explain this to you, he looked off into the distance, like he was pondering some great truth, and murmured, “People these days don’t appreciate true romance, y’know? Not like I do.” You had to bite back a laugh as he continued, talking about how he thinks relationships should be full of little gestures and poetic love notes. He even tried to write you a letter once, but halfway through, he got embarrassed and tore it up because, according to him, “You deserve a better writer than me.” It was cheesy and melodramatic, yet something about his seriousness made you fall a little more in love.
And the fishing for compliments? It’s practically a full-time job for him. He’ll lean in close, adjusting his shirt or messing with his hair, pretending he doesn’t notice you watching him. “Do I look okay?” he’ll ask, like he’s casually inquiring, even though he’s practically holding his breath for your answer. If you compliment him, he’ll brush it off with a fake modest shrug, saying, “Oh, thanks, I guess…” But you know he’s about five seconds from grinning like a complete idiot and checking himself out in the mirror just because you called him cute.
But nothing beats his little sigh-filled monologues about how deeply he loves you, how his feelings are almost too much to handle. It could be the simplest moment—like the two of you watching TV on the couch, or walking through the grocery store—and suddenly, he’ll stop and say, “You know, loving you… it’s like… it’s almost too much. I don’t think you understand how intense it is.” He’ll shake his head, all serious, as if he’s grappling with this grand, tragic love, and you have to stifle your laughter because he’s acting like a main character in a soap opera. But he’s deadly serious, as if his heart can barely hold the enormity of his feelings.
Whenever he’s feeling insecure, Jihoon has this self-deprecating move he pulls, fishing for reassurance in the most obvious way. He’ll sigh and mutter, “I mean, I know I’m not like… the coolest boyfriend ever or anything…” trailing off and casting side glances at you, waiting for you to tell him he’s wonderful. When you finally give in and reassure him, he tries to keep a straight face, but you can tell by the way his shoulders relax that he’s basking in it, practically glowing under your validation.
What’s really priceless, though, is how he’s convinced that being with you makes him the luckiest person alive, and he’ll say it to you at the most random moments. “Do you realize how lucky I am?” he’ll whisper, even if you’re just brushing your teeth next to him. “Seriously. I don’t think I deserve you.” He’ll shake his head like he’s some tragic, noble hero, sighing in contentment as he gazes at you. It’s such a ridiculous, earnest display, and yet you can’t help but adore him for it.
In the end, Jihoon’s trying way too hard to be this ideal boyfriend, failing miserably at being subtle, and somehow landing squarely in “adorable loser” territory. He’s clueless to how transparent his little “cool guy” persona is, blissfully unaware that you can see right through him. But in a way, it’s what you love about him—he’s just so unapologetically and awkwardly in love, and while he thinks he’s fooling everyone, you wouldn’t have him any other way.
161 notes · View notes
thru-the-grapevine · 2 days ago
Text
Deep End
Tumblr media
Pairing: Choi Soobin x fem!reader
Summary: Soobin thinks you could be the most dangerous thing to ever happen to him, if he let you (or: not even the ambience of a city rooftop can distract Soobin from you).
Word Count: 5.7k
Tags/Warnings: mature content (minors dni), pwfwp (porn with feelings without plot), public sex, established relationship, man is a simp
Author’s Note: the lovely @chanis-banani has allowed me to post the birthday gift I made for her 🥰 I played myself by writing it for her because now I’m kinda nuts about him too. Whoops.
Tumblr media
Soobin has never been a particularly possessive or territorial person before, so he’s unprepared for how it feels to see you in his shirt.
He watches you in the reflection of the hotel elevator, mesmerized. The shirt is a button-down, oversized even on Soobin. He’d helped you roll up each sleeve four times just to give your wrists some breathing room, and from how it fits on you, it gives the appearance that it’s the only thing you’re wearing at all. He’s trying very hard not to stare at your bare legs, focusing in on your little painted toenails to try and stay respectful. He’s not sure if it’s working. Nothing feels respectful about the way he looks at you these days.
The two of you are on a weekend trip to the city together, seizing the opportunity for quality time alone during a rare time when neither of you have anything in your schedules. You’d suggested pretending it was a fancy weekend, and Soobin had taken you at your word and sprung for a nicer hotel than usual, particularly because of how your face had lit up at the idea of a rooftop pool.
The two of you are on the way to this pool now, and instead of wearing normal clothes over your swimsuit, you’d insisted on borrowing one of his shirts. He’d agreed without really thinking about it, and once the sleeves were rolled up you’d declared it was perfect.
Soobin can’t disagree, either, because he can’t stop looking at you in it. Something about it being your idea makes it even better. He likes the way you look in it, but in a way he didn’t expect. Some sort of base instinct in his gut is glowing, seeing you in something of his.
Then again, you’ve always fascinated him, even before the two of you began seeing each other. You’ve always lit up every room he sees you in, something about how you carry yourself drawing the klutzy moth of him to you like flame. He’s never wanted to know so much about another person before. He loves learning every little thing that makes you laugh, that makes you chatty, that incites reactions in you.
He can’t believe he convinced you to say yes when he asked you out, amazed you allowed him to keep coming back for more. He feels like a naturalist who got outrageously lucky enough to get close to their favorite beloved wildlife, like he has to drink in and take note of everything he can get of you in case you spook and flee. Like he can puzzle out the mystery of you if he studies you closely enough.
You catch him staring in the reflection and make a silly face. He grins and makes one back, shifting closer to you and watching his reflection drape an arm over your shoulders. He’s realizing recently how often you draw him in, how he’s always looking for reasons to be as close to you as he can. If he really was a moth, he’d be scorched to a crisp by now.
He can feel you practically vibrating with excitement as the two of you step out onto the roof. There’s a huge grin on your face as you gaze around with eyes so big that Soobin knows you wish you had more of them to take it all in.
“Not too shabby, then?” He asks, charmed at the way you flit from place to place, exploring.
“What do you mean, not too shabby? It’s perfect,” you gush, gesturing from thing to thing and bouncing on the balls of your feet. “Look at the view, ugh, it’s so—and the pool? It’s perfect, the water is so pretty, it’s all so pretty here at night, look at all the other buildings lit up, I’m just—!”
You take a deep breath and blow it out slowly, face still aglow. “Okay. Calming down.”
He grins, making his way to a chaise lounge near the pool and sitting. “That’s the spirit.”
“Why is it so empty up here on a night like this?” You wonder, staring up and around at the nearby buildings and night sky.
A private smile twitches at the corner of Soobin’s mouth. “Yeah, seems way too nice out not to be up here.”
“Definitely nice enough to swim,” you muse, turning to him and batting your eyes once. “You’ll swim with me, right?”
It was never a question that he would, but Soobin feigns uncertainty. “Hmm...”
“Just for a little bit,” you insist, shoulders slumping, and he can’t help laughing.
“’Course, that’s why we came up here.”
You pout at him, making your way over to his chair. “Rude.”
He watches you approach, endeared at the little frown line between your brows when you pout, how it makes your lips even more distracting. “You’re just easy to bother.”
You make a face at him. “Just for that, you can have your shirt back.”
His mouth goes a little dry when your hands go to the top button, fiddling.
“Oh no, please, anything but that,” he tries to deadpan, but his voice rasps.
You roll your eyes, amused, as you pop the first button. “Perv.”
He can’t even refute you. It’s like erotic torture, watching you unbutton the shirt—his shirt; god, that really is doing things to him. The buttons are on the opposite placket than you’re used to, which means you move slower, and Soobin watches in an agony of lust as inch after inch of your skin is revealed.
You shrug the shirt off when it’s finally unbuttoned, tossing it into his lap and wandering to the edge of the pool. He tries to get himself back under control, but your swimsuit leaves so much less to the imagination than anything else he usually sees you wear that it’s impossible.
You look back over your shoulder at him, pausing on the steps descending into the water. “You coming?”
He nods, dazed.
You raise an eyebrow, smirk teasing the corners of your mouth. “You good?”
That depends heavily on what “good” means. He considers saying this, knows you’ll enjoy the philosophical banter, but when he opens his mouth his throat is too dry to speak. He shuts his mouth and clears his throat, giving up. “I...yeah. Great.”
His face feels hot when you wink at him, tip of your tongue between your teeth. Jesus.
He watches you wade down into the pool and tries to think of boring things, like taxes and bylaws and coding instructions, anything but how breathtaking every inch of you is. It doesn’t work, especially when you dip beneath the surface briefly, then come back up, swiping your hair back from your face more flawlessly than any model.
“Water’s fine,” you murmur, and something in your expression makes him think you’re fully aware that he’s wrapped around your little finger.
Maybe the water will clear his head. He grabs the scruff of his shirt and yanks it over his head. “Coming.”
He doesn’t bother with the steps, heads straight for the deep end and hops in. The cool water is a welcome shock to his system, as well as the muted quiet of underwater. He lingers near the bottom, waiting until his lungs ache for air to push back towards the shallow end.
When he resurfaces, you’re floating on your back, gazing up at the night sky. He swipes his hair out of his face and rises to his full height, angling to see you better. You have your mouth pursed in a specific way to keep from inhaling water, and your hair splays out around your head in the water in gentle, undulating waves, Medusa-style. There are little twinkling reflections in your eyes of the world you’re drinking in above you. Bliss in your face.
Oh no, a voice in the back of Soobin’s mind says, and looking at you feels like he’s made of glass and is being shoved off a high ledge. But Soobin can’t bring himself to be frightened, can only concentrate on the pleasant swoop in his stomach as he plummets. He thinks he might enjoy being shattered by you.
You jerk in surprise when you catch him watching you, a thrash of water. “Jesus.”
He feels a grin tugging at his lips. “Sorry,” he says, not sorry at all.
“Why are you just standing there staring, you weirdo?” You move upright again, and your mad scientist hair flattens into a streaming curtain down your back. Pale blue pool light reflects in little waves over your skin, and Soobin would believe someone in this moment if they told him you were a water goddess.
He can’t tear his gaze away from you, still grinning like a fool. “You’re interesting.”
You raise an eyebrow, teasing smile back on your face.
“Interesting, huh.”
“Mhm.” He starts wading your way at that dreamlike pace water always demands. Moth, meet flame.
“Me, or my tits?”
“I—that wasn’t what—” Soobin stammers. “What—I hadn’t even looked at—”
And he hadn’t, truly. Except of course they’re now at the forefront of his mind, now that you’ve mentioned them, and invisible magnetism keeps tempting his gaze down, a losing fight with the thought of them right at the top of his brain, and now he’s noticing your chest, half-submerged, the gleam of soaked skin and droplets in tantalizing places, noticing the wet cling of swimsuit fabric to curving soft skin. He wonders how it might feel to glide his hands over and under and around, whether you would feel cool or warm under his mouth, and his mind hadn’t been on this track two seconds ago, it really hadn’t...
He hears you snort, tears his gaze back to your face, schoolboy guilt bunched in his stomach.
“Mmhmm,” you say, unbelieving. Your pleased little grin eases the shame, a balm on his heart.
“Yah, I really wasn’t,” he protests. “...but now that you mention it...”
Your snicker is cute, everything about you is so cute, and when did this happen, how did this happen, how did you become the most irresistible thing in Soobin’s world without him catching whiff of it before?
You surprise him when you lunge for him when he’s close enough, your arms flinging around his neck, soft mouth covering his. Like kissing him is a relief, like to you he’s something special, something to look forward to. He’s not going to question why, even if his own appeal to you puzzles him, just pulls you closer with his hands on your hips and kisses you back.
You pull back far too quickly, and he frowns, missing you already. He’s immediately distracted, though, at the delicate feeling of your fingertips ruffling in the soggy strands of his hair.
“Thanks for springing for this place,” you murmur, grateful little smile on your face. “I love it.”
“’Course, baby,” he hums, trying not to feel too smug for nailing it. All of it was worth it just for this.
Your gaze follows a droplet of water traveling down his neck and over his chest. One of your hands leaves his hair, tracing the wing of his collarbone gently.
“You’re really hot when you’re all wet,” you admit, floating off your feet and hooking your legs around his waist.
Your positioning immediately stokes his carnal interest. He blinks, dazed grin spreading slowly over his face.
“Only when I’m all wet?” He teases, hands on a slow glide from your hips to cup beneath your thighs, holding you in place.
You tsk at him, fingers still playing in slow, hypnotic patterns through his hair and over his chest. “Fishing for compliments? Don’t tell me you don’t hear them all the time. We know what you look like.”
He loves watching your mouth when you talk. The shape of your lips is something he’s constantly cataloguing for long-term memory, both from looking at and feeling them with his own.
“I only ever want your compliments,” he says absently, thumbs drawing little circles on your thighs, completely mesmerized. “They’re the only ones that count.”
He can see the reflection of the flickering surface of the pool in your eyes. Something thrills in his chest when the edges of your smile turn a little shy.
“Flirt,” you murmur, leaning in closer.
He blinks, drawing the tip of his nose along yours slowly. He can’t remember what he said. He should try to remember, should take it down to use later, but you’re quite literally hanging all over him and you’re all wet in a swimsuit and your mouth is only inches away and he is not God’s strongest soldier, after all.
He leans down and fastens his mouth over yours, kissing you like he has all the time in the world. It’s quickly becoming one of his favorite things to do, finding all the ways your mouths can fit together. He teases the tip of his tongue along your lower lip, heart racing when you sigh into his mouth and open for him. God. The taste of you, mingled with pool water and the lip balm you’d borrowed from him earlier, is enough to turn off all the thoughts in his brain.
Mouth still playing over yours, he wades slowly backward, inching towards the pool steps, crouching as the water gets shallow to keep you both weightless in the water. His heel knocks against the bottom step and he stumbles back, kiss breaking as he sits down hard.
Your little giggle goes straight to his crotch for reasons he can’t decipher. He grins, sheepish, lifts himself up to sit on the next-highest step, reaching for your hips and reeling you back in. You straddle his lap without him even having to ask, more proof to his mind that you’re perfect, and when he tilts his chin up you meet him halfway.
Everything about you in his arms feels right, and Soobin feels something unidentifiable deep within him settling into place. All his senses are honed in on you, on your mouth moving with his, on the gentle chaos of your breath, on the soft suppleness of you relaxing into him as he kisses you with slow, consuming ardor. His hands slide in restless patterns over you, and eventually his mouth parts from yours and drags along the line of your jaw.
“For the record,” he murmurs, pausing to nip softly at your earlobe, “you’re really hot when you’re all wet, too.”
Your laugh is breathless, a bolt of heat to his gut. “Only when I’m all wet?”
“Especially when you’re all wet,” he whispers, nuzzling against the hollow beneath your ear, savoring how you shiver.
Your skin is cool beneath his mouth, and he makes it a personal mission to warm it again, openmouthed kisses gliding smooth and wet and hot along the expanse of your neck, the curve of your shoulder, the wing of your collarbone. He feels you hum and relax further into his lap, tension in your muscles melting you closer against him, candle wax near open flame. He marvels innocently at how incredibly silky you are, even over firmer places, how there’s a hint of you behind the chlorine on your skin, and he needs more of it, feels an itch in his brain for more you in his senses.
“Hey,” you protest halfheartedly as he fumbles with the ties of your swimsuit top. “This is a public pool, someone could come up.”
“Mhm,” he mumbles, hearing the words purely at a sound level, feeling the ties come loose in his hands with a slithery tickle. He nuzzles into the inside curve of your breast, nudging fabric away from wet skin, mouth slipping along the plush undercurve. Pure fascination wins out as he opens his mouth wider, bites, sucks.
He feels you twitch in surprise at the feeling, soothes his hands along your back in half-apology, laser-focused on the feel, the taste of you in his mouth. You’re sensitive here, not as excruciatingly sensitive as your nipples, but that just means he doesn’t have to be as careful, can let his curiosity at the feeling of you win unrestricted.
He continues nibbling and sucking in that spot, slides a hand around to your front and tugs the now-loose top away, tossing it behind him blindly. He feels your hands tighten on his shoulders when he settles his hand back on you, cupping your other breast. He eases the pad of his thumb in gentle circles over your areola, mesmerized at the way the skin puckers and tightens to a point under the lazy caress. He hears you swallow back a moan, feels one of your hands slide up and weave fingers through his hair, and that base instinct deep in his gut puffs its chest knowing that he affects you like this.
He lifts his mouth from your skin with a crude pop, other hand sliding from your back to brush a thumb over the hickey. He knows you love when he leaves them on your neck, but it still makes him shy to know other people will see them and make assumptions about what your love lives are like. This one, however, on this pillowy curve of skin that only the two of you get to see, is right up his alley. Satisfied with how dark it is already, he nuzzles your breast and settles his mouth over your nipple.
The little noise you make is adorable, and Soobin finds himself smiling against your skin. He traces his tongue over the budding peak, unhurried, takes your other nipple between his fingers and pinches until you gasp. He can’t resist rolling it slowly between his fingers, twisting one way and then the other as he circles the other in lazy circles with his tongue.
He hears a frayed whimper in your throat, the helpless wriggle of your hips against his inflaming him further. He’s never been addicted to a person before, but he’s hooked on you for sure, wants to take inventory of every inch of you, every reaction he can incite, every texture and scent and movement. He drags his mouth to your other breast and kisses your poor abused nipple gently, massages it better with his tongue as his hand takes over the one he left behind.
All of you drowns his senses—the cool slipperiness of your skin, the little whines you sigh out, the way you keep cinching yourself closer to him, burying your face against his hair, agonizing friction in your laps. He can’t stop himself from groping your ass and tucking your hips in tighter against his, fascinated by the feeling of your muscles twitching and contracting with desire.
He makes a noise of surprise when your hand in his hair tightens and yanks, angling his face up to yours. You crush your mouth over his, and his hands are immediately all over you, roaming restless paths over every inch of you he can reach, urging you closer. He wants to drown in you, be consumed by you, devour you with all five senses at once and then more.
It’s not enough. He wrenches his mouth from yours, panting, tapping your hip.
“Up,” he pants.
You hesitate only a second before moving off of his lap. He stands quickly and takes your hand, sloshing his way up the remaining steps and out of the pool with you in tow.
You seem to be on the same wavelength, to an extent, matching his pace as he makes his way over to the chairs with your things on them. He guides you in front of him, a twinge of fondness in his chest at the sight of your arm attempting to cover your chest, as if that doesn’t just make them look especially sumptuous, and he wants his hands back on you, wants to test how squishable—
“Down,” he pants, hand nudging your shoulder until you sit on the chaise, then nudging again until you lie back. His other hand is already untying your swim bottoms, one side and then the other, gaze laser-focused as he leans in and presses a kiss low on your abdomen, parting your legs.
“I—wait, ‘Binnie,” you protest, hand coming to his head. “Stop—we are outside, someone could look out a window and see—”
“Don’t care,” he mumbles against your skin, mouth already gliding along the inside of your thigh. The looming buildings nearby, the vague hum of city life stories below, the night sky, the pool, everything is in a foggy haze in Soobin’s mind. His only focus is you, on how downy soft you are, how you shiver as his tongue darts out to catch at water droplets on your skin.
“Easy for you to say, you’re still wearing someth—ah,” you squeak as Soobin yanks your now-completely untied bottoms away, balling them up absently in one hand and hurling them to oblivion. “Wait, I’m serious, Soobinnnnnnngh.”
He groans into the apex of your thighs, mouth open wide and tongue flattened along as much of you as possible. God, yes, this is exactly what he’s after, concentration and essence of you overwhelming his senses. Slowly, he curls the tip of his tongue, dragging his mouth up, the motion gently parting wet layers of inner softness. You slap a hand over your mouth, moaning as the tip of his tongue laves over the sensitive crest at the very peak, and he lingers there for a moment, leaving an openmouthed kiss.
Blindly, he fumbles above him, finding your arm and pulling your hand away from your mouth, anchoring your wrist to the chaise. He feels your other hand tighten hard in his hair as he continues leaving wet, sucking kisses all over the sensitive tucks and pleats of flesh, working you up with ruthless patience.
He daydreams about this more often than he cares to admit, even more so when the two of you are apart, and he’s determined to learn and implement the way you like it best, the way that makes you lose all sense of shame. Admittedly, he gets a little carried away in part because you’ve told him your former partners were merely passable at eating you out. His competitive streak, combined with this growing obsession with you, make him determined to be extra attentive whenever you grant him this opportunity.
It’s difficult to stay focused, though, the hot and wet feel of you on his mouth, the taste of you on his tongue, enough to make him delirious. He easily gets lost in the savoring, mapping every inch of you under his tongue, lingering in places just because it makes you tremble and whine like you’re desperate for him, and he wants you just as desperate for him as he feels about you.
He hums into you, delighted, when your legs close in around his head as he closes his mouth over your clit and sucks. Everything goes muffled, even the little moans of his name you’re trying to bite back, but it hardly matters when he can feel your limbs shaking, feel you hot and throbbing against his mouth. You start trying to buck your hips into his face, and he slides his free arm over your abdomen and pins you down, steadying you both. He tongues over you in wet, languid strokes, feels the clenching flutter of the entrance into your body. Pure fascination drives him again, and he strokes you there again, stiffening his tongue and driving it into you.
Oh, god. The tight, blistering heat of you, the taste, nearly unmans him. He moans into you, guttural, and nearly loses his mind at the way he can feel your inner muscles fluttering and clenching rhythmically on his tongue like a heartbeat.
The overwhelming need to make you come slams into him like a tidal wave. He’s determined now, anchoring you in place and delving his tongue into you in delicately aggressive thrusts, nuzzling into you deeper and deeper. He can hear you whining even with your thighs muffling his ears, the sound increasingly desperate, and he wants to give you anything in the whole world that you want, would roll over and bark if you asked, so he doubles his efforts and slides his mouth back up to suck and tongue at that most sensitive bud, wringing sensation like raw honey from the comb.
He wonders for a brief moment if he could come just like this, completely untouched with his face buried between your legs, moaning into you like your pleasure is his own, and if that makes him a munch then so be it. And then you tense and tighten against him for a full moment and the pleasure uncoils, your whole body arching and shuddering in euphoria. He shoves his tongue back into you and moans, lightheaded at each of the siphoning ripples of fulfillment pulling him in deeper, drunk on the little sobs of pleasure you make.
God. He’s never wanted anything as much as he wants to be wrapped up in you right the fuck now. He eases you through the quaking pulses of ecstasy and starts fumbling with the drawstring of his swimsuit, taking care not to touch himself for fear of blowing his load in his pants like a teenager. Raw need claws at his insides like a rabid animal, desire to make sure everything is perfect for you warring against his impatience, his craving to skip over things like a condom and gentleness and—
Condom. Oh. He remembers reminding himself to grab one, remembers seeing the box of them tucked into his bag and knowing one would be needed, and yet here he is, empty-handed. Fuck.
“We have to go back to the room,” he groans, leaning back and mopping his chin with the back of his hand. “Now. I need to be in you more than I need to live another day.”
Through your pleasured exhaustion, a lazy smile forms on your lips. You shake your head, glancing over and gesturing at his dress shirt you’d borrowed.
“Don’t need to go back downstairs,” you breathe, and fuck, your post-orgasm voice is devastatingly sexy. “Get the shirt, I brought a condom.”
He blinks at you, once, twice, not comprehending. “You...”
Color flushes over your skin prettily. “I...I thought it never hurts to be prepared. For anything.”
Soobin is trying to process that you’ve had a plan for being up here that involves a condom. Dazed, he glances over at the neighboring chaise, reaches for the shirt.
“Is there a condom...in the shirt...?”
Your breathless giggle ties his insides into little knots.
“You didn’t notice the weird shape in the breast pocket earlier?” You ask, eyes crinkled in mirth.
Through the haze of oh my god she wants us to fuck, Soobin finds it in him to be indignant again. “I wasn’t looking at—I was trying not to look, you know, at...”
He huffs a sigh as he extracts the condom from the shirt pocket, unable to stay annoyed even as you keep giggling at him.
“Here I was trying to be respectful,” he tsks, smiling even as his ears grow hot.
You snort. “Ah yes, the respectful boyfriend that strips his girlfriend at a public pool and commits sex acts on her where anyone could stumble in on them.”
“No one’s going to stumble in,” Soobin breathes, trying to make his hands dry enough to tear the condom packet open.
“What do you mean?”
“Pool’s closed,” he says, giving up and tearing at the packet with his teeth.
“The pool is closed? Are we going to get in trouble for—”
“It’s not really closed,” he says. “I just paid the front desk to tell the rest of the hotel guests that it’s closed.”
You stare at him for so long in stunned silence that he starts feeling a little antsy. “You bribed the hotel...so you could have sex with me?”
“I would bribe anyone with anything to spend even five platonic minutes alone with you,” he protests, fumbling the condom out of the wrapper.
He stills when you grab his wrist, arresting him with your stare. There’s something at work behind your eyes, something he doesn’t know the name for.
“What?” He whispers.
After a long moment, you swallow. “Nothing. I just...no, nothing. Here, let me.”
You keep eye contact as you slip the condom out of his hand, and he shivers when your other hand brushes down his abdomen. His breath stutters when you take hold of him, and he feels himself twitch in your hand after going so long neglecting himself.
If he doesn’t redirect his attention he may still finish before he can even get inside you. “People might—might still be able to see from windows,” he stammers as you roll the condom on, spreading your legs.
You shrug a shoulder, abashed smile still on your face. “If they see, they see,” you breathe.
Sometimes you make him breathless.
“Remind me not to believe you,” he murmurs, settling himself between your legs, “when you say you’re too shy to do this out in the open.”
You laugh as he drags his tip over you, catching on your entrance. “Don’t push it, this is a special ca—ohh.”
Ohh, indeed. Soobin moans and drops his forehead against your temple, feeling what little remains of his sanity obliterating the further inside he eases into you. You’ve been intimate like this before, but no matter how prepared Soobin thinks he is, every time feels like the first time all over again. Nothing ever truly prepares him for the scalding hot, wet glide into unimaginable tightness, for how even when you’re relaxed, he has to bully himself into you inch by inch. He’s shaking with the effort to be gentle, nudges his hips slowly until bit by bit, all of him is enveloped snugly inside.
“How can you feel this perfect,” he groans, most of the willpower left at his disposal exerted on lasting, good god he needs to last even just to feel you around him like this for longer—
You laugh again, breathless, and the way that feels when you’re connected like this is sinfully good. “I try.”
“No you don’t,” he gasps, rocking his hips gingerly into yours. “You just are.”
You whimper as the angle of his hips drives him into a sensitive place inside of you. He grinds into the spot again, careful, his restraint threadbare but hanging on.
“Please,” you pant, hitching your knees further up, and the adjustment of angle forcing him even deeper.
Soobin nearly chokes on his own tongue. Fuck. He thrusts like he’s afraid of himself, mantra of don’t come don’t come don’t come flooding the forefront of his mind, sheer force of will.
“I won’t break,” you plead, voice so breathy and fucked-out it belongs in high-end porn. Sweet merciful god, he can’t do this.
He feels your mouth drag along his shoulder, and then a flash of sharpness. His body reacts to the bite before his mind can catch up, hips surging hard against yours, strangled noise punching out of his throat. Your legs tighten around him, intimate muscles clenching in that way that means hell yes, and the groan from deep in his chest is inevitable as he snaps his hips again. Fuck.
Yeah, okay, he can do this for you. That base instinct in his gut purrs like a feral dragon at the way you can no longer hide your moans, being fucked like this. His new goal now is to build stamina, he’s determined, needs to be able to do you exactly how you want it for hours without stopping. He thinks he might be moaning too but he can’t hear, so preoccupied with drinking in every clench of your muscles around him, every little pleasured expression on your face, addiction to every part of you wrapped around him like this so intense he feels lightheaded.
He can’t tell if you’re shaking or he is, only knows you’re pulling him in like you aren’t already as close as it is humanly possible to be, like that somehow isn’t enough, like you can meld yourselves into a singular being if you try hard enough. Your fingernails dig hard into his shoulders, your breath stuttering in that way that tells him just what’s coming next, and then you shatter around him.
You become impossibly tighter around him, bearing down with rhythmic spasms luring him deeper inside, as if that’s even possible, like he hasn’t been working himself as deep into you as he can go, purely for selfish reasons. He never wants to leave, would live inside you if he could, and he loves that you get like this with him, loves the way you go soft and pliant when the release begins ebbing, god, he loves—
His release hits him with no warning, no buildup, hard as a bullet train. Fuck. It feels like nothing that’s ever happened to him before, and a stab of panic electrocutes him through the feeling. His ears are ringing, alarm bells tolling danger in his bones, and he feels out of control, completely gone, glass making impact at last and shattering into far-flung pieces, impossible to gather again. It’s all he can do to gasp for breath, clutching at you like handfuls of sand that keep slipping away, hips rocking into you, slow, rhythmic, with a mind of their own.
Your arms slide around his back, warm pressure like an anchor point, and just with that, with your tight embrace and each deep breath you take, you’ve found each piece of him, binding him back together. Only now the essence of you fills in the cracks, the healing balm, each sinew of him now limned with your glow. A moth made of flame.
Soobin tries to take as even breaths as possible, tries to sound calm, rests his face against the chaise next to your face and feels a hot stinging drip from his eyelashes.
He knows what that look in your eyes was earlier, he realizes. The unidentifiable emotion. He knows because it’s clicking for him right now, the knowledge that he feels that way, too.
Tumblr media
Admin Ellie’s Masterlist
152 notes · View notes
hauntedhokage · 2 days ago
Text
Day 29: First Kiss
Tumblr media
Satoru Gojo/Reader
word count: 499
note: dorky nervous teen Gojo is so important to me
Tumblr media
You don’t think you’ve ever seen the great Satoru Gojo nervous. The strongest sorcerer, wielder of the six eyes and limitless techniques, had spent the entire evening with the grace of a newborn deer trying to walk on steady legs, because this was his first date with you and he didn’t want to mess it up. You may have ended up wearing your ice cream because he’d moved his arm without realizing where you were, and he may have accidentally walked in on you changing in the dressing room of the store he’d taken you to so he could replace the shirt he’d ruined, and then knocked your drink out of your hand - making you wonder just how the six eyes actually worked because wasn’t he supposed to be aware of his surroundings with it? 
But had he messed it up? Not at all. It was actually pretty cute to see him so flustered for once, while not getting yelled at by Yaga for some reckless actions he’d taken on a mission. 
“You probably never want to do this again, huh?” he says, watching as you lean back against the wall beside the door to your room. He’s trying to play it cool, make it sound like a joke so you’d let him down easy, only to be surprised when you shake your head. “Huh?”
“I had fun. You’re cute when you’re nervous.”
“You know eventually I won’t be, right?”
“And you’ll still be cute.” His cheeks go pink at the sentiment, and you carefully pull the sunglasses from his hands so he’d stop fidgeting with them. “I truly had fun tonight, and I would love to go on another date with you.” 
“Really? I spilled like eight things on you, and-”
“And you’re cute, and I like you, so I want to go on more dates with you. You were pretty good at holding my hand, and you replaced my shirt with something cuter, so I think you’re ahead.”
“Have I earned the opportunity to kiss you goodnight?”
It’s your turn to flush, cheeks growing warm at the way those bright blue eyes stare down into yours. You can only nod, pushing yourself off of the wall to stand straight in front of him. It’s annoying how pleased he is at having to lean down to reach you at all, but you also know by how shaky he is that it’s not enough to quell the nerves he’s been battling through the evening. His bottom lip is trembling when it touches yours, the nervous movement soothed by your kiss while your hands gently cup his cheeks in hopes that it’d relax him even a little bit. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands, not even when you’re pulling away and trying to stay close to him as you do.
“That’s the first time I’ve kissed anybody,” he breathes, looking at you through those long lashes as you smile up at him. “I’m glad it was you.”
142 notes · View notes