#like why would you plant that idea of the relationship being weird if you still intended to make it endgame | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

saintobio · 2 months

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sincerely yours. (10)

↳ gojou satoru/reader

when a twist of fate led their marriage to the path of a quintessential tragic romance, two past lovers go through another series of experiences on love, heartbreak, identity, illness, and trauma along the road to a happily ever after.

genre. heavy angst, amnesia, modern au, 18+

tags/warnings. depression, intoxication, trauma, implied suicide attempt, toxic relationships,

notes. important announcement ! as you all know, this series has always had an extensive approach into detailing the events in its side stories (ie. sera x sukuna x naoya, yuuji x megumi, maki x yuuta x miwa, etc), but while writing the chapters, the word count and the plot building had become too exhausting for me to produce consistently, esp with the amount of scenes and side stories i was introducing to the story, so i've decided it's best for me to stick to the main characters, reader & gojo, and will only add side stories as necessary. this really hurts me knowing that i can't achieve the level of comprehensive writing and world building that i did for sincerely not, but i really want to finish sy as soon as possible and removing a chunk of side stories would be some of the things that'd help me achieve that 😭 i hope you guys understand. hopefully i'll figure out a way to write those side stories instead of completely abandoning them mid-way in this series. but as always, thanks for ur continued support <3

series masterlist -> episode eleven

“It’s a little weird.”

What was supposed to be her bed time had turned into a moment of reflection for Sera who, instead of being fast asleep at this time of the night, had unconsciously brought herself inside Sukuna’s home office to join the up-and-coming tech mogul in his late-night programming.

She wore her silk pajamas, pacing back and forth in her boyfriend’s office as her mind flew back to the recent encounter she had with her ex-boyfriend. Who knew that Satoru’s kid would look just like a carbon copy of him? No, actually, the question should be: who knew it would be a different woman by his side acting as the mother of his child? Sera had to laugh at herself, shaking her head as she realized how truly and undeniably ridiculous her ex was. It was clear that day that he wasn’t really as loyal of a partner as he claimed himself to be.

Did he really just go through all those crazy things with you, only to look like a whore-hopping fool now?

If he was bound to end up with someone else other than you, then why did he have to make Sera’s life miserable in the first place?

She may have done terrible things before as a selfish and materialistic lover of his, but that wouldn’t change the fact that Satoru also contributed to her role as the side-piece in his marital relationship. He allowed her to cling to him like a mistress. Being his side-piece wasn’t even something that she had forced upon him. It was his promise, an idea that he planted on Sera’s head, saying that she would need to stay by his side and that he would marry her guaranteed that he had already secured the merger and divorced you. He swore like a fool that he would divorce you. But guess what? The jerk ended up falling in love with his wife and suddenly had no use of Sera. Suddenly, he was such a good husband who couldn’t be more loyal. Suddenly, he was a lovestruck man who had always been in love with his childhood friend. If he had downright dumped Sera the moment his engagement was announced, if he had not been prideful and ambitious since the beginning of his marriage, he probably would have had better luck at having that healthy relationship he yearned from you.

But how come the blame of being the third-party was all on Sera when her only mistake then was loving the person who promised her all the good things in life?

Now, you see, this was all just bitterness brewing at the back of her head. She knew what she did was still wrong and that she wasn’t innocent. Sera swore to herself that she would never look back on those awful days ever again, but seeing how Satoru was running around freely with a different woman just reminded Sera of his days as a spiteful, two-timing man. Somehow, it felt like he had changed and yet didn’t at all.

Ha ha ha. How ridiculous was that?

“What’s funny?” asked Sukuna, her present boyfriend and thankfully so. He was Sera’s blessing, because she never would have thought that a man like him could still exist in a world full of Satoru’s and Naoya’s. “You look cute smiling to yourself, though.”

“I know,” she responded to the compliment, shifting to settle herself on his lap, though his attention remained fixed on his laptop screen. “It's just strange to me,” she continued, her voice thoughtful, “how Gojou appears his usual self, yet there's something off about him.”

The question clouded Sukuna’s eyes in confusion, tilting his head to the side as he tried to comprehend her description. “You mean dude got uglier?”

I wish, Sera thought. “No, he’s… he’s different. The vibes are different. For a second, he even looked like he was dissociating the whole time he was with that girl,” she said, referring to Satoru’s new girl as though she was your cheap alternative, “But then again, why is he with her in the first place if he looks absent-minded the whole time, you know what I mean?”

“Was he like that with you before?”

“At times, but it’s not like the way he’s acting right now… I don’t know, I can’t explain it. The energy is off. That’s just not how he acts when he’s really, really into someone.”

To be honest, Sukuna didn’t give a damn about Satoru Gojou’s life and any normal boyfriend wouldn’t really like hearing their girlfriend talking about another man, especially her ex at that, but he knew Sera found joy in old money gossip and he was aware of the demoralizing past she has had by associating herself with them. Sukuna was acting all engaged in their conversation because he wanted to make her feel heard and that he shared her simple joys in life. Besides, it was through her that he learned so many inside scoops about the people that ran the country’s biggest conglomerates. It was like watching one heck of a messy episode of Dynasty.

“Didn’t he get into a car accident?” he recalled, remembering the headlines on the news that day, “Then, we saw him at the expo and he couldn’t really remember you. The guy’s probably got his head all messed up.”

Sera was bitter at the time thinking that Satoru was toying with her when he asked who she was, when the truth was, he was actually diagnosed with amnesia. It was such a shock to her, truthfully, because having amnesia felt like something you would only see on a movie’s screen. Well, in that case, she could also say karma’s a bitch. The director might be onto something here.

“He’s probably not mentally fine, but still…” she thought carefully and played the scene in her head again. What was it about the Gojou that she saw the other day that was different? “He just has a different vibe to him that it feels uncomfortable. It’s like he’s rude, but not so rude? He doesn’t have much of a personality anymore. Like a complete stranger.”

“Maybe it’s the new girl rubbing off on him.” Sukuna was back to typing on his laptop as he said that. Frankly, he was just saying anything at this point.

Sera shook her head in response. “Well, I don’t know about that girl he’s seeing and I don’t really care, but it’s common knowledge to the filthy rich that she’s Y/N’s best friend. That’s why I recognized her right away, and that’s why it disgusted me,” she pressed on, “Tell me, would you—and be honest about this—would you fuck your best friend’s ex?”

The humor on her boyfriend’s face came right as she asked that. “Babe, you fucked a married man. It’s worse than fucking somebody’s ex.”

“Shut up.” Rolling her eyes, she got up from his lap and sighed, but Sukuna wasted no time in pulling her back onto his lap. His chuckle was mingling with the gentle kiss he had planted on her cheek, unaware that his actions made Sera’s heart flutter. “Forget it. I shouldn’t even be talking about Satoru with you.”

The man stretched his arms and finally closed his laptop, patting Sera’s thigh afterwards. “On that note, I do have another ‘dude from your past’ that I gotta meet tomorrow.”

Her reaction alone was a response for him. “Naoya?” she protested, face contorting with disgust. “What for? I told you not to take on that project.”

“Yeah, I considered it, and you know, the partnership could really benefit CleaveTech,” Sukuna reasoned, leaning back as he outlined the situation to her from a business standpoint. Given her own background working for the Gojou Group before, he expected her to grasp the significance of this partnership and set aside any personal grievances or emotional attachments. “The Zen'in Group is a major client. It’s all pros and no cons here.”

“The contra is the guy you’re gonna work with,” she highlighted with a hint of annoyance rising from her throat, “Naoya is nothing but an opportunistic motherfucker. Mind you, he’s a stupid elitist, too.”

He held back a laugh, not even threatened by a man who had a terrible history with his girlfriend. “Nah, I’ll deal with him. Just trust me on this.”

As much as Sera wanted to object, she knew Sukuna had a point and that she really shouldn’t hinder his company from being partnered with such a large conglomerate. She just didn’t like the thought of her boyfriend being around a man who manipulated and humiliated her to the point where she had been blacklisted by multiple companies, leaving her to resort to being somewhat of a prostitute just to make ends meet.

The world was harsh for the not-so-rich, and all Sera wanted was to give those upper class people a taste of their own medicine. But seeing as her desire for revenge would clash with her boyfriend’s chance at company growth, she had to set aside her personal grudge and support him on this one.

Still, there was nothing wrong with being curious. “Is there any other reason you agreed to this partnership?”

Sukuna smirked as if he expected that question from her. “Blame it on my little brother, he’s been bugging me ‘bout it.”

“Yuuji?” Sera asked, clearly confused.

To which her boyfriend quickly answered, “Yeah. He said it’ll give him an opportunity to work with his best friend. You know that kid, Fushiguro, right?”

Ahh. Toji’s kid aka the heir to the Zen’in business empire. Sera had met Megumi before, and while that other brat Mai used to be unreasonably rude to her, the younger boy was always civil and respectful at least. He never even once treated Sera like dirt when she was spending time with Naoya at their mansion. Perhaps their upbringing really differed because he was raised by Toji and the other Zen’ins were raised by demons.

Nevertheless, with a connection now established between Sukuna and Naoya through Yuuji and Megumi, Sera couldn’t help but feel that her peaceful days as a nouveau riche were about to become far more intriguing. Depending on the cards she would choose to play, they could even turn into a living nightmare.

— —

You weren’t exactly abandoning your company; you were merely taking a break, a necessary pause given your current mental state after the whole break-up with Toji and the Osaka thing. Your mind was just too overwhelmingly occupied to even properly function. Each day, mustering the energy to show up at Hearte's head office became increasingly challenging, especially when faced with individuals who relied on you for major decisions and creative direction.

To make matters worse, Akemi’s sudden resignation hit hard.

You received her decision by a simple letter, a mere piece of paper, without even having the guts and decency to meet with you in person. Was she scared? Or was this her way of rubbing salt on the wound, shoving it in your face that she was now taking things to the next level with your ex-husband?

She did cite in her resignation letter that her reason for resigning from the role was due to conflict of interest. You wanted to laugh when you read that part. No, you wanted to choke in your fit of laughter after reading through her asinine reasons. She could have been upfront and mentioned that the so-called ‘conflict’ was the very man her best friend had previously married.

Obviously, everyone in the office felt sad knowing that a core member of the company left without at least a 30-day notice, but they were all also aware that her resignation was due to personal albeit controversial reasons. Did Akemi not care about her image at all? The same colleagues she had trained, managed, and collaborated with would now likely gossip about her behind her back. She would become a hot topic of disrespect among the people that once heavily respected her. Did she also not care about the company you two created together anymore? This was the same company you two had passionately dreamed of during your late-night conversations on a New York rooftop. She was the one who wanted to build a fashion house together with you.

Yet, it seemed she was willing to throw it all away for a man already entangled in complicated familial dynamics. Her immediate resignation and refusal to speak to you in person just further confirmed it to you that Akemi was willing to forsake your friendship by choosing a man who already had a child with someone else.

Since she chose that path, you couldn’t help but interpret Akemi’s actions as a deliberate slight against your friendship. It seemed clear that she no longer viewed you as a friend and was essentially cutting ties with you. Otherwise, why would she take such a step? Akemi wasn’t the type to be vindictive; she likely believed she was sparing you further pain by severing your connection. However, regardless of her intentions, her actions felt deeply disrespectful and hurtful.

If this was what she wanted, then kudos to her and her unbelievable confidence to choose a man like Satoru Gojou. Besides, it didn’t even take you a week to find another replacement. Your family connections were powerful after all. You readily had a pool of potential candidates for the role of the Head of Sales, Retail, and Merchandising—all from prestigious backgrounds and unparalleled expertise. While the competition was tough, you selected the person you deemed was the most qualified to be your second-in-command. This was someone you had esteemed since college, a person who excelled in both business acumen and creative vision.

Yuki Tsukumo. She was influential in every sense, and you trusted that she would be able to manage the high pressure environment of a start-up fashion house and transform it into an iconic brand, a household name that would one day rival Chanel and Miu Miu.

You may have succeeded in replacing Akemi. You may have shown her that her position in the workforce was easily replaceable, but her role as your friend still left a lingering, repugnant mark that proved far more difficult to erase. This underlying sentiment could explain the unreasonable anger festering in your heart—a visceral reaction born from feelings of backstabbing betrayal.

It was hard enough for you to travel all the way to Osaka with a broken heart, but it became much more agonizing to watch your own son run up to Akemi like she was his mother. It was a goddamn slap to your face, indeed, to see that your ex-husband had already chosen a woman to have his happy, little family with. That he wanted to be a good man and be everything you wished for in a husband for her.

As they say, nothing hurts more than building a man for another woman.

And honestly? You cried so much on the way home that you became numb. Now, you were just trying to get over it. You were trying to bury the searing pain in order to forget the betrayal you felt. It was all too much for a person to handle and it wasn’t like you hadn’t gone through the same old shit before. Wasn’t it worse before with Satoru actually cheating and all? He technically wasn’t crossing any lines here, so it shouldn’t hurt you. It shouldn’t. You had been here before. If you had managed to get through such an awful time as his previous wife, his relationship with Akemi shouldn’t be too hard to accept. No, you weren’t trying to lowball your pain, but it was better to be an optimist in this situation than be a suicidal, self-destructive person. You had a business to run and a child to raise. You had to be strong.

Or at least, that was what you told yourself. That was what you had been telling yourself over and over, each time you got up from bed forcing yourself to have a false positive mindset. In fact, that was also why you had to take this extended break because you had to have your peace of mind. You had to have some form of release to remember why you needed to stay alive and keep yourself going.

Not just for Sachiro’s sake, but also for your own.

Your safe haven for now was at the horse ranch, where the tranquility of riding and the beauty of nature provided the perfect ambiance for reflection. How long has it been since your last visit to Willow? Your father had been joking that you shouldn’t be leaving a beautiful, white Friesian horse unattended for years, especially not for the expensive price he paid her for. True enough, because the moment you saw the mare again, you almost forgot how majestic she was for her breed. Willow was a completely docile and graceful horse, so alike to you in many ways. However, one thing that was unlike you, was that she lived in peace, existing solely for herself and not for anyone else.

If only you could be like her.

As you reached out to stroke your rare-breed horse, a new and unfamiliar stallion in the stable caught your eye. To think of it, your family shared this equestrian estate with the Gojou family. This realization meant that the strikingly elegant and tall gray horse in the adjacent stall belonged to none other than Satoru.

“It’s a Thoroughbred,” the equine caretaker informed while guiding your horse out of the stable, “Mr. Satoru got him recently and named him Six.”

A gray Thoroughbred, renowned as the most expensive horse breeds out there. It could fetch a price as high as $70 million, and of course, Satoru was the perfect owner for such a prestigious horse. The stallion embodied his essence completely—its color, its build, its rarity. On the other hand, you couldn’t help but find his naming convention by number a bit odd. His previous black stallion was named Eight. This time around, it was Six. Couldn’t he be more imaginative?

“He’s beautiful,” you mumbled, nonetheless, in awe with the regality of the horse.

“He’s a good boy, too,” added the enthusiastic horsekeeper in a thick country accent, “Mr. Satoru was here yesterday and played polo while riding him. They were perfectly in sync even if it was his first time riding him.”

Of course, he would play polo. That was one of his favorite recreational sports. The burning question at hand was, who was with him during his visit? Because if the caretaker mentioned Akemi, you would certainly lose it. This was your private space with him. This estate was a place that none of his other women had access to, not even Sera. This was a location filled with memories from your childhood. For him to bring another woman here would be crossing the damn line.

“Did he bring anyone with him?” you asked, trying to sound casual as you dusted off your boots.

The caretaker denied. “No, he was alone. He just came to play polo and check the horses he recently bought.”

Oh… “He bought more than one?”

Did he seriously get Akemi her own horse? Your heart was racing at the thought, but the caretaker led you to the stable near the exit to show you the other horse than your ex-husband had purchased. It was a brown Shetland pony.

“He got a fully trained Shetland for your son,” the horsekeeper proudly declared, showcasing the pony as if he had been instructed to do so in anticipation of your visit. It was obvious that Gojou had already briefed him on introducing Sachiro’s new pony to you because he knew you would be asking about it. “His name is Elmo. He is kid-safe and very friendly.”

Frankly, you wanted to sigh in relief, but at the same time, it warmed your heart to know that Satoru got his son his own horse at such a young age. You could already sense him planning to make Sachiro take equestrian classes when he gets older, and probably join him on his horseback riding sessions, too. You could imagine just how perfect it would be to see the father and son bonding here, racing together, playing polo together… yet it would not be you who would be watching them on the side.

This future he was setting up with his son would be an experience he would share with Akemi.

There was no you in that vision anymore.

The caretaker likely questioned your sanity when he noticed the bitter smile on your face as you mounted your mare. He might have even doubted whether you were sane enough to ride alone, without a guide, particularly through the woods since Willow had not been ridden for some time now. However, you had done it countless times before and were quite familiar with the trail, and so you dismissed his offer to lead you and assured him confidently that you knew your way back.

You needed this solitude. You craved this moment of peace, alone with your thoughts and surrounded by nature, to reflect on the ceaseless torture of your life. It was just never-ending, squeezing every drop of happiness out of your system to make sure that you would only live to suffer. You really thought you had your happy ending with someone else? You actually believed you had found the perfect man to be your actual husband?

Well, unfortunately for you, Toji was not the one.

At first, your mind flew to Toji as you went on to the trail, allowing the mare to continue trotting as you held the reins to control her. You remembered Toji’s text that morning, asking you for the hundredth time if he could meet with you. He likely wanted to apologize in person, but you doubted he would change his mind and take back the things he said. Because they were true. He could never fill the void left by his deceased wife by being with another empty soul. It was painfully, unmistakably true. You were better off dead if that was the case, because even if you did end up marrying him, you would never be regarded as the person he loved the most. After all, your role in this world seemed to always be the second option. You were never the first in other people’s books. Not with your ex-husband. Not even with your family, especially with Gen around. You were meant to be a bystander, watching others live their perfect lives while you were forced to be in your misery. Someone like Toji would not have a guaranteed blissful marriage with you and you had to spare him from that. You had to draw the line and step back from this charade that you were playing with him, knowing that you were never the right person to be with him, so at some point, you had to accept his drunken words. They came from a place of truth, and that truth would set the both of you free.

Even it hurt. Even if it fucking hurt to hear his words. You couldn’t deny them.

You could easily forgive him, but his words might take a while for you to forget because even thinking about it now was bringing a wave of pain into your chest. You didn’t even notice that you were losing control on Willow’s reins by the time you entered further into the woods, bouncing on the saddle as you galloped along the challenging path. With the speed you were riding right now, inexperienced riders would certainly find it unsafe and scary. But for you? It was just what you needed. The breeze of fresh air, the thrill of riding alone, the peaceful sound of nature—you could die there and be at your happiest.

Maybe that was where you had to be; to disappear and leave them all behind. Wouldn’t that be best for everyone? If you were to vanish, they could finally be free. Your presence, even from the beginning, was a burden for everyone—for your dad, Gen, Satoru, Toji, and even Akemi. The people you trusted the most would be the same people who would secretly celebrate your demise. So, what else was hindering you from taking matters into your own hands and ending it all yourself?

“Giddy up!”

Was it Sachiro? Definitely. But now he had his father, and he was likely starting to see Akemi as a mother figure as well. Your role as his beloved mama could be easily replaced if you were to leave him now. It wouldn’t hurt him as much that way. Three years with Sachiro seemed sufficient enough, and he was at an age where he could grow up alongside his father. In this short span, he would have lasting memories with you, yet not enough to deeply grieve your absence. He was a young child, surrounded by people who would offer the whole world to him. At least, for that, you were eternally grateful. It brought you comfort knowing that your son would have support after you were gone, and that he would find a mother figure in Akemi. Given the brief time he spent with you and the rest of his life with her as his stepmother, Sachiro would likely come to love and accept Akemi as his own mother. This was the best outcome you could hope for.

My child, my son, my baby… please don’t get mad at mommy.

Tears were gushing out of your eyes and you hadn’t even realized it until they started blurring your vision. You were far too lost in your own thoughts, unaware that you were now in an unfamiliar and seemingly dangerous part of the trail. The path was getting a little bit too steep and poor Willow was clearly stressed at your inconsiderate handling. There were multiple obstacles on your rocky terrain and you weren’t as steady and controlled as you wanted to be because the horse wasn’t comfortable navigating such a difficult path with the pace you were forcing her to.

“Ah!”

Your attempt to balance was interrupted by Willow’s loud neigh, signaling her distress before she bolted into a full rampage. She was sprinting at an estimated speed of 20 miles per hour. Not even a skilled rider like Satoru himself would be cantering that fast on unfamiliar terrain and an unfit horse. But you, you clearly had a death wish, because instead of fearing for your own life, you were far more concerned at the thought of how dreamy Satoru and Akemi’s wedding would look like after your demise. They would definitely make Sachiro their ringbearer. Suguru would be the best man. Shoko, the maid of honor. People on the internet would praise them for being an attractive couple. They would anticipate their beautiful kids together, living in the same mansion he bought as a gift to you. He would kiss her good night, tell her loves her, and offer the whole world to her. They would exchange vows and promise themselves a lifelong commitment to be by each other’s side through sickness and in health, and only in death would they part.

“Willow!”

You let out a shriek as the reins slipped from your grasp, causing you to tumble off the saddle and crash onto the ground. The impact was first felt in your elbow, and a sharp, searing pain then radiated through your body. There you lay, sprawled on the dirt, helplessly watching Willow galloping out of control up the mountain, and then tragically plummeting off a cliff.

“Nooo! Willow, no!”

Utter hysteria overtook you. You sobbed uncontrollably, unable to determine which pain was more agonizing—the clearly broken elbow, the loss of the horse you had inadvertently led to its death, or the heart-wrenching reality of Satoru starting a family with someone else.

You were pathetic. You were such a pathetic excuse of a human being and this was why you deserve hell.

“Willow!”

Toji couldn’t love you. Your own son didn’t want to be around you. Satoru had gotten over you. And now, you drove a poor innocent horse to its demise because of your recklessness!

You were crying hysterically as you held your pained elbow, crawling by the cliff’s edge as you screamed for your horse’s name, but in the end, there was nothing you could do. You could only apologize to poor Willow for having such an irresponsible owner, and now she was dead because of you. 16 years of her life, she was able to live in peace until you came and ruined it all for her. It should have been you. You were the one who should have jumped off a cliff. You should atone for your sins and follow her, but you were too weak, far to overcome by the excruciating pain on your hip and your broken elbow to move or do anything at all.

That was, until your mind had completely shut down, leaving you as a mere body to be discarded alone in the darkness of the woods. You hoped that no one else would find you soon.

— —

“A-Angina?” Satoru’s eyes went wide. His whole world stopped before him.

“Yes. She was diagnosed with stable angina,” Dr. Mori confirmed, much to your husband’s horror. “But there is another factor that requires her to have more rest. You need to take good care of your wife, Mr. Gojou. Her body needs a lot of nutrients so she can carry safely.”

He could barely process the whole thing in his head because the news kept coming one after another, leaving him in a befuddled state with a flood of unanswered questions running through his mind. “What do you mean…?”

“Your wife is seven weeks pregnant.”

…

“Y/N?”

“Y/N!”

“Are you out of your mind?!”

You could barely pry your eyes open, but when you finally managed to, you were met with the concerned expression on Gen’s face. The harsh glare of fluorescent lights and the antiseptic scent confirmed to you that you were in the ER, likely an hour or two after the incident in the woods. The memory of the trail quickly flooded your thoughts, and a pang of sorrow gripped your heart as you recalled Willow's final moments before she fell off the cliff. The poor horse had lost her life, while the one responsible for her tragic death remained alive, save for the bandage wrapped around your arm.

“Why did you ride into the woods alone?” Gen persisted with her barrage of questions, standing by your bed as you attempted to sit up. “Are you suicidal or what? Riding your horse in a dangerous trail like that—”

“You know what, maybe I should have just died back there!” you snapped, wincing from the pain in your elbow. Her choice of words struck a nerve in you. “Maybe I’d prefer that over sitting here, listening to your sanctimonious lecture like you're so perfect yourself! How obnoxious.”

“Then, maybe you shouldn’t be riding so recklessly and causing alarm to everyone else!”

“Did I literally ask you to come save me?!”

The atmosphere around you two just became even more uninviting, with discomfiting silence seeping through as you and Gen were engaged in a sharp glaring contest. Your father stood behind her, clearing his throat to cut the tension.

“That’s enough, Gen.” Your dad placed a hand on her shoulder, and although she wanted to protest, she knew better not to keep stirring the pot after receiving his strict gaze. “Let’s just be thankful your sister is safe. There’s no need to be so overwhelming.”

You rolled your eyes, drawing in a deep breath before you looked away from them. None of them would ever understand your pain unless they were in your position. They didn’t carry the same baggage as you, so they would never fully comprehend the weight of your suffering. You had already dealt with similar pain on your own before and that was why you didn’t need any of them to come to your aid, meddling with your life like they knew exactly what you were going through. “Just leave me alone, you guys. I wanna rest.”

Since when did your relationship with your sister start to get rough? It wasn’t really like this before, but ever since she started to become too overprotective over you and your choices in life, particularly choices linked to Satoru, Gen had started to become insufferable in your eyes. She was acting too much like a mother; controlling your decisions, lecturing you about your personal relationships, being too involved with your private life. There, ever since that, you started to distance yourself from her, and she didn’t like that. Her stubbornness wouldn’t allow her to cease acting like this mature, picture perfect big sister to you.

With that said, Gen would have normally gotten annoyed when you asked them to leave you alone, but this time around, she seemed to have reflected on her insensitivity a lot better with your father around. “I’m sorry, okay?” she said, her tone still tinged with stubbornness, “I just got worried. I don’t know what’s gotten into you to put yourself in danger like that, but… please, Y/N. If you’re going through something, you can always speak to us. Dad and I, we’re here for you.”

To be fair, if you had to put yourself in their shoes, it really would have been alarming to know that your sister almost died. This wasn’t the first time you were at death’s door either, so they were probably scared shitless when they were informed of your situation. Your absolutely reckless situation. You didn’t mean to cause a scene, neither did you intend to bother them on their already busy schedules. You just had so many things in your mind while you were horseback riding, too engulfed by your own sorrow that you didn’t realize the repercussions after the incident had already taken place.

“I’m sorry, too.” Your voice softened with humility. “I didn’t mean to worry you guys. It was just really an accident.”

Of course, Gen suspected it was more than just an accident. Your dad did, too. It was obvious on their forlorn faces that they were worried for your mental and emotional well-being, but none of them dared address the elephant in the room. It seemed they didn’t need to, anyway, since one of the many reasons that contributed to your earlier breakdown took a peek from behind the curtains, clearing his throat and sending you a look of sympathy.

“Y/N?” Toji looked at your father and your sister for approval before stepping further inside your space in the ER. “Can I talk to you?”

There was no escaping Toji’s presence anymore. No more hiding, no more avoiding. You knew you had to have this talk with him no matter how many times you ignored his flood of texts and calls. While this may have struck as an opportune moment for him to speak to you in person, facing the painful truth of your situation weighed heavily on you. Besides, hadn’t the irony presented itself right there? If Satoru were the one trying to speak to you, even if he was the father of your child, Gen would have been quick to lash out at him. Yet with Toji, even with the general knowledge of what had transpired between you two, your sister still showed no hostility towards him, allowing him to approach you freely and without interference.

But then again, Toji was far from being a cheating, manipulative scumbag who not only caused you suffering but also sought to selfishly acquire your family’s company. Therefore, he wasn’t considered a threat.

Alright, then. Since Toji genuinely wasn’t a threat to your current emotional state, you agreed to talk with him. It was the first time you had seen the not-so-confident side of Toji Zen’in. He was typically a man of virtue, often holding his chin high, offering the best advice, and having insightful perspectives on life. However, it seemed you had shattered that confidence in him. You could sense his cautiousness around you as he stood by your side in the ER, assisting you with your needs, and eventually agreeing to your request to walk you to the rooftop garden.

“I don’t really think there’s anything else we should talk about.” It was you who first broke the silence, staring at the cityscape while sitting on a wheelchair. The calm breeze allowed your mind to seize the moment with a peaceful mind. “I already heard what you had to say.”

Toji found it better to kneel down in front of you to meet your eyes as he spoke to you in a sincere and earnest voice. “Y/N, I was drunk when I said all that shit back there. I didn’t mean them. I didn’t mean to hurt you with my callous words, and I feel awful that you had to hear them from me. You trusted me. You sought comfort from me. I wasn’t thinking like a normal person when those things came out of my mouth.”

“That doesn’t mean they weren’t true,” you replied with quiet resignation. It was the acceptance in your face that seemed to have caused Toji’s heartbroken gaze. “It’s okay, Toji. I think, when you said all those things, it actually made me realize some aspects of our relationship that had to be addressed. It made me more self-aware and it opened my eyes on the bigger picture.” You touched his hand, giving it a comforting squeeze as you mustered the courage to speak your next words. “It’s for the best that we part ways. It’s not fair to me to become a placeholder for your wife the same way it isn’t fair to you to have to deal with my ex-husband always being present in my life. Our unresolved feelings won’t really be resolved by being together.”

“Y/N…” Toji’s voice hinted at his vulnerable emotions, though he restrained himself from showing it fully. And you didn’t miss the apologetic look he had presented to you. “Despite all that, I hope you know that I’d been true to you. I do love you and will always love you. I’ll always be someone you can rely on, someone you can seek comfort from, someone you can turn to when you need help…”

Damn it. Why did he have to make it sound like an actual break up? Now, it tugged at your heartstrings and hit you in a place it shouldn’t have. You weren’t good at these things and it certainly was your first time dealing with such a mature and mutual separation, but wasn’t that a good thing? No further drama was to happen, leaving a stark comparison to your separation with Satoru. While this one didn’t hurt as much, it still brought a hollow feeling in your chest.

“Same for me,” you agreed, displaying a weak smile. “You’ll always have a spot in my heart, Toji. I’ll always be grateful that I met you.”

Sometimes, two people didn’t need to be together to love each other. Friendships could still thrive between ex-lovers, and that was why closure was so important. It not only closed a certain chapter of your life in a healthy way, but also allowed you to heal and open yourselves to a new beginning without any bitterness left behind.

It shouldn’t be considered bad to remain friends with an ex. It also shouldn’t be bad to give a parting kiss from said ex, right?

You weren’t the one who initiated it, after all. It was Toji’s hand that gently stroked your cheek. It was him, who leaned forward and pressed his lips onto yours. It wasn’t forceful, but neither was it passionate. It was simply a tender kiss of goodbye, feeling the warmth of each other’s lips for one last time before you two would transition from being lovers to friends. What you didn’t understand from this supposedly bittersweet moment was the faint tears that somehow managed to escape your eyes, perhaps because you knew that once Toji left, you would be alone again.

You had no one by your side to love you, cherish you, choose you, and offer their entire world for you. You were meant to live this cruel world all by yourself.

As he pulled away, he pressed his forehead against yours. “Please learn to love yourself before anyone else, Y/N. It’s what you need and what you deserve.”

That night, while you were getting your MRI, your mind kept flying to the possibilities of a future without having anyone by your side. Any normal person would tell you to focus on loving yourself first, as Toji did recently, focusing on what matters most, and ridding yourself of the toxic things that hinder you from moving forward with your life. Things weren’t as easy as they sounded. Besides, it was different being on the receiving end of the said advice. How could you do those things when the primary cause of your pain was someone whose life would always be linked to yours forever?

Based on the result of your MRI scans, your doctor recommended that you undergo elbow arthroscopy. It was just a minimally invasive procedure compared to open surgeries, but considering how much of an overthinker your dad was when it came to your health, he insisted on your confinement at the hospital until you had been completely cleared of any other issues. He really placed a big deal on your condition and emphasized to the doctors that they make sure nothing was missed. It could have been worse; you could have had a broken hip or a fractured leg, but at least you only had a dislocated elbow. Nothing that couldn’t be easily corrected by surgery and physical therapy.

The decision was for you to stay there for two days, and on your first night, a crying Sachiro ran inside your private room because his ‘mama has a boo boo’. Gen said he was picked up from daycare and dropped off at the hospital because the poor kid was looking for you. She didn’t mention who dropped your son off to you, but you could tell it was Satoru. You could sense it by the glances she exchanged with Ian after you asked how Sachiro came to the hospital.

So, in that case, Satoru must have found out about your little incident and didn’t care enough to see you. Did he not even have an ounce of care anymore? Or was it Gen who stopped him from seeing you?

“Did you ask him to leave?” you confronted Gen in a mellow voice, rubbing Sachiro’s back as he snuggled into you on the hospital bed.

Your sister knew exactly which man you were referring to, and she denied having done such. “No, I didn’t even talk to him. He took Sachi here and left.”

You didn’t know why you looked at Ian to confirm the truth of his wife’s words, but hurt yourself upon seeing his bowed head. It was an apologetic expression that did signify your ex-husband’s blatant act of ignoring you. To hear about your near-death experience and simply leave without even checking on you should be your wake-up call. He didn’t care anymore. No, why should he care? He had Akemi. His only responsibility with you was to be a supportive father to your son.

Why did the pain in your heart feel far more agonizing than the discomfort on your dislocated elbow?

If anything, you wanted to ask for the strongest anesthetic they could offer to numb your pain. You were desperate to have anything even if they had to put you into an eternal sleep. That would have been much easier to deal with than feeling disregarded by a person you supposedly had moved on from. Satoru did nothing wrong here. It was you who had that expectation, only to disappoint yourself when things didn’t happen as you imagined.

And just when you thought things would get better as long as you ignore your torturous thoughts, it didn’t help that being in the hospital kept giving you flashbacks of the time you were in this exact room, hearing Satoru crying helplessly from outside and begging for you not to terminate his child. What comes around certainly goes back around. Or worse.

Such depressive thoughts had you occupied throughout your stay there, and your unusual placidness alarmed the nurses instead of being assured that you were doing well. You heard your doctors telling your father and sister to always keep a close eye on you as the incident may not seem serious, but the trauma would undoubtedly be present somewhere and somehow. Were they aware? Of your intrusive thoughts of wanting to hurt yourself?

The elbow arthroscopy was successful and by the second day, you were free to go home. You were placed on certain medications to help with the swelling and the pain, and while you were walking around the hospital with a listless mind, you happened to pass by the Obstetrics and Gynecology Department. What a deja vu it was, remembering the time you had seen Satoru there waiting outside for Sera. Back then, it was one of the climactic events in your life that led to a domino effect on the downfall of your marriage. Not that you were reminiscing, but it did remind you that Shoko was probably there in her consultation room and it would be nice to talk to a friend who had witnessed the wild history of your marriage.

You asked Gen to wait for you in the car while you headed to Ieiri’s consultation room, assuring your visibly worried sister that everything was fine and that you wouldn’t take too long. You had to give Gen some slack, because despite the strains in your relationship as sisters, she was still always there for you. At the end of the day, she was family.

Shoko, on the other hand, was the next closest thing you had for a sister. She welcomed you inside her room in a very worried embrace, telling you that if she had known about the incident, she would have gone straight to your hospital room on your first day, but you told her not to worry about it and understood that being in the medical field already had her schedule tight.

“Well, I guess it’s perfect that you’re here, too.” Shoko smiled warmly, sitting behind her desk. She had exciting news to offer, it seemed. “I just wanna say that… of course, I’ll still be sending you a formal invitation and everything. I actually have a few gifts along with it.”

You shared her enthusiasm. “Hmm… is it what I think it is?”

The wedding. The most eventful day of her life would be arriving soon and you were the first one to hear it.

“Yes!” she answered, with the utmost joy coruscating from her eyes. “I want you to be my maid-of-honor, Y/N. I’d be extremely happy if you could make it. I know you just got into an accident, but it won’t be until two months, so—”

“Hey, it’s okay.” You eased her worries by chuckling. “I’m completely fine, of course I’ll be there. I can’t miss it.”

Shoko was grateful to hear your answer, relieved even, because by asking you to be her maid-of-honor, you should already understand who Suguru’s best man would be. That was a touchy subject for you and she was keenly aware of it, but you didn’t want her to worry. You didn’t want your relationship with your ex-husband to have a negative impact on the relationship of all the other people surrounding the both of you. It was already bad enough that Shoko and Suguru almost called off their engagement after they fought over their morals as you and Satoru’s friends, and you were glad that they somehow made things work. They somehow set aside their disagreements and ultimately chose their love over anything else.

Their love was beautiful, and while that wasn’t something you could easily have, it was something you deeply admired.

“Where are you guys planning to hold your wedding?” you asked, steering the conversation away from any mention of your ex-husband. “Here or overseas?”

She delighted you with her answer, sounding as if this was the perfect wedding she had always dreamed of. “It’s an intimate wedding on the lakeside. Suguru chose the location, actually, since he wanted our wedding to have the view of Mount Fuji.”

“That’s perfect,” you said with wide eyes. “Lake Kawaguchiko?”

“Yep. That’s exactly where it’d be.” She smiled with her eyes. “You know this resort… Hoshinoya Fuji? We already booked the place, and we have a luxury cabin for friends and families to stay at.”

You had been there before, but you were too young to remember. All you knew was that it was a high-end resort that had the best panoramic views of Lake Kawaguchiko and Mount Fuji. The hotel owner was also a close friend of the Gojou family, so that was probably why they were able to rent the entire place for the wedding, especially at a peak season for tourists.

Since the fall season was arriving, you could only imagine the stunning views of the autumn foliage there. It offered the perfect weather, too. It wouldn’t be as hot as summer, nor as freezing as winter. Surely, it would be nice to do some nature walks and stargazing, maybe ride a boat or bathe in a hot spring. You looked forward to it, except for the fact that your ex-husband would also be there.

And just what a perfect timing it was, because as Shoko sorted through her patients' medical records above her desk, a file slipped from the pile, revealing the name of your very friend, Akemi.

“Oh,” Shoko murmured apologetically as she retrieved the record, not wanting to ruin the mood of your conversation. “She, uh, came by a few days ago... with Gojou.”

You didn’t need to ask. You didn’t need to hear any further detail. Akemi’s visit likely revolved around her desire to conceive, as she wouldn’t have visited Shoko otherwise. Why? If it were simply to monitor her polycystic ovary, why did she choose Shoko instead of her own gynecologist? Thinking of how your ex-husband and best friend were attempting to start a family together left your heart shattered in unimaginable pieces, stirring up painful memories of your pathetic marriage with Satoru and reopening old wounds you thought had already healed from. Wasn’t it ironic that a couple of years ago, you were crying over the same situation with Sera?

You couldn’t stand this feeling anymore. You thought you had already freed yourself from the pain of loving him, yet here you were suffering from the same heartbreak over and over and over again. Tears threatened to spill, but you held them back, the ache in your chest too raw to confront just yet.

“It’s funny.” Although you displayed an outward smile, the sadness in your voice reflected your otherwise inward thoughts. You didn’t know why you said that. You were just too… too emotional. Almost like you couldn’t breathe. “He was never this passionate with me. They seem so in love.”

Ieiri’s eyes carried sisterly concern in them. “Y/N, it’s not really what you think.”

Was it? You weren’t sure what to feel anymore. You certainly weren't there to hear it anymore, either. Satoru chose her, just like what you wanted for him to do. Just like what you asked him to do. He had moved on, he had found someone who would love him for who he was, he had chosen the woman he would share the rest of his future with. Call yourself ridiculous for even feeling hurt about it, because you had no right to be and you definitely chose this. Either you own up to it, or you cry about it for the rest of your life.

Both choices had no happy endings.

— —

When Satoru learned about your incident in the woods, he thought he was going to lose his mind.

Was it out of love that he swiftly left the office in the middle of a meeting just to get to where you were?

He still had to pick up Sachiro from daycare, and he felt bad telling his son on the way to the hospital that his mother was hurt. It actually gave Satoru a hard time explaining to the 3-year old that they had to go to the hospital because his mommy was there and that she had an unfortunate encounter while riding a horse.

“Dada, is… is mama okay?” Sachiro pouted with wide, tearful eyes as he clung to his father’s hand. “Sachi wants to go to mama!”

“She’ll be okay, Sachi.” Gojou carried his son and soothed him as they went inside the hospital, searching for you. “Mommy’s strong, remember?”

Was it out of love that he wanted to be the person that brought your son to you when you most needed him?

According to the nurse, your room was on the seventh floor, but when he got there, your room was empty. It was Ian who told him that you went up the rooftop garden to get some fresh air, insisting that if Satoru wanted to go and talk to you, that it was best to leave Sachiro with them.

And so he did. He ran hastily, almost out of breath, until he reached the rooftop, scanning every face within the vicinity until his tired blue eyes finally landed on you.

Satoru laughed in disbelief. He scoffed bitterly, with each breath full of disgust. The tips of his fingers felt cold, while his breathing grew thin and ragged. He could feel his stomach clenching at the humiliation of seeing you engaged in an intimate make-out session with Toji Zen’in.

How sickeningly sweet.

At that point, he was laughing at his own expense, ignoring the elderly lady who looked at him like he was a crazy person. He stood there frozen for a few minutes, watching you kiss another man before it finally woke him up from reality.

It was out of love that he let you go.

You see? This was where his attachment to you would lead him. It was pure and unreasonable selfishness, but he would gain nothing at all from even seeing you. He didn’t need to care for you at all, no. You had Toji. You seemed to be goddamn happy with your life with Toji. And what a romantic fucking moment that was, too.

Satoru couldn’t think straight when he hurriedly left the hospital and got inside his car. He desperately wanted to forget the painful image of you locking lips with somebody else. How? How would he? Fuck! He was mad, mad at himself for choosing to come to your aid like he still had any role in your life. He was disgusted at himself for ignoring Akemi’s calls after promising her a movie date after work. He couldn’t believe he had her waiting all by herself in that cinema, waiting for him to come while he was stupidly running around the hospital to see his ex-wife.

You chose Toji, then you better be happy. Satoru hoped you were happy, and that wish came from a place of genuineness. He genuinely hoped the best for you. Because for him, it was time to fully let go and stop himself from trying to be the superhero whenever you were in danger. You weren’t his wife anymore.

So, was it out of love that he headed straight to Akemi’s apartment that night with a bouquet of red roses?

She didn’t know what happened nor was she given the full detail as to why he unintentionally stood her up on their date night. He had just briefly explained that he had to drop Sachiro off to you at a hospital because you got into a small accident. Akemi, being your friend, got immediately worried upon hearing the situation and asked if Satoru was able to check on you.

He said no. He said Toji was there. He said he left as soon as dropped Sachiro off.

And in an effort to apologize for not paying attention to the current woman in his life, Satoru pulled Akemi in a tight embrace. He held her in her arms, drunk from the sweet and citrusy notes of her perfume, before pulling away to kiss her. He kissed her with the same passion as you did with Toji. Perhaps even more, even better. He completely devoured her lips, with a hand on her cheek and the other on her waist. The taste of her tongue was sweet like strawberries, while her lips were red like cherries.

This woman was all he needed.

But was this love? He didn’t know. It was too soon to tell, too early to answer, too hasty to even consider.

— —

The current situation you were in reminded you of your younger self after your mother had died. It was the same before; you never left the house, often locking yourself in your room, shutting yourself off from the world, and drowning yourself with the pain and loneliness of losing somebody important.

Sure, no one really died for you to be acting this way right now, but the feeling was still the same. Was this really a comeuppance to all of your wrongdoings before? But just how terrible were you of a person to be hit by this unbelievable truckload of sorrow? You might as well spur on the physical pains of your angina again if this torment continued. Otherwise, how else do you avoid it?

You were being a terrible mother, too. You were too engrossed by your own misery that you couldn’t even properly take care of Sachiro. He didn’t deserve to have an incompetent and irresponsible mother like you. He deserves someone better, someone like Akemi, who not only has all the motherly traits a woman should have, but also the physical and mental capacity of being a true, strong woman.

Sachiro was bound to have that, anyway. Now that his father was planning his lifelong journey with another woman, and now that he was trying to build a happy family with her, you were no longer needed in the picture. There was no need for you.

How many more times would you tell that you have accepted it?

Because, god be damned, you knew you couldn’t. You knew you were lying to yourself when you said everything was fine, lying to Satoru when you told him you didn’t need him in your life anymore, lying to Toji for telling him that you wanted to marry him, lying to Akemi that you didn’t care if she was seeing your ex-husband, and lying to Sachiro when you promised to him that you would never leave his side. You were a liar. A terrible liar. A pitiful, terrible liar.

How would you tell the universe that you couldn’t take it anymore? That, for once, you wanted to be showered by happiness and all the good things in life?

Sera was right. Not everyone could have it all. There were people of lesser fortune who weren’t blessed to live a lavish life like you, yet still work hard to achieve what they want. Why couldn't you achieve your own happiness without blaming it on the universe? If this was simply a lesson, then weren’t you the top student at this rate?

God. God, help me. You really didn’t know how to deal with this life anymore. You weren’t sure how to proceed. You couldn’t rely on anything other than the bottle of alcohol on your hand—what was once full was now half empty after you took another swig. This was your second bottle already, wasn’t it? Or third?

You got up from the floor and failed to walk in a straight line as you made your way towards the balcony. Your steps were unsteady, wavering like a leaf caught in a gentle breeze. With each attempt to move forward, your body swayed from side to side, struggling to maintain balance. You almost lost grip of the bottle you were holding. No, it did, in fact, slip from your hand and ended up crashing into the floor. Shards of glass lay across the ground, ready to pierce the soles of your feet to mirror the same physical pain your heart was experiencing.

“Stop,” you muttered under your breath, begging for your chest to stop hurting. But it only worsened, and your antidote to that was to wash it down with even more liquor. No matter how expensive it was, you didn’t even like the taste of alcohol. You hated the sting on your throat whenever you drank it. You despised the bitterness it left on your tongue. However, it did great at numbing your emotions.

It just felt wrong in many ways that you were seeing Satoru’s face whenever you closed your eyes. You could see his smile, his loving eyes, his beautiful lips. You missed his embrace, his kiss, his touch. You missed hearing his I love you’s. Him. You missed him. You yearned for him. Three goddamn years, and you were still undeniably in love with him.

“Satoru…” you cried, sitting on the floor. Each breath made it harder and harder for you to catch as tears continued to stream down your face. You were tired of pretending, denying that you no longer had feelings for him when you knew deep down that you would always choose him. “S-Satoru… come back to me, please.”

Was it him coming inside your room? Or was it your vision making a fool out of you?

“Baby, what are you doing?” Satoru’s expression was engulfed in immense worry as he knelt down and reached out to you, touching your cheek and looking at your eyes somberly. “Don’t do this yourself, Y/N.”

Your head hung low, your gaze unfocused and glazed, as you fought to keep your eyes on the path ahead. You had to reach him. You wanted to touch him, hug him. And despite your best efforts, your movements were disjointed and erratic, betraying the effects of the alcohol coursing through your veins.

“Y/N, that’s enough.” Gen had to use force just to be able to snatch the bottle away from you, forcing you to wake up to the reality where Satoru no longer existed to be there for you. It was her who came rushing inside your room in the middle of the night. The bottle of liquor was now spilled all over the floor. The same could be described with your emotions. “Get it together. You haven’t been acting like yourself lately!”

You couldn’t, even if you wanted to. You were in delirium after having dealt with all the terrible things the world had thrown at you. If you couldn’t drown yourself in alcohol, how else would you have been able to numb the pain? How else would you have been able to… forget?

As much as your sister tried to hide the obvious sympathy in her voice, even your drunken mind could recognize it. “We all know you’re going down the depression lane again, but never to this extent.” Her voice cracked in the middle of her sentence, cradling you into her arms as a tear fell down her face. The Gen who would usually lecture you, was now holding you in her arms as her only baby sister. “Stop this, Y/N, please. Don’t ruin your life the second time. I-It’s hurting me. It’s hurting Dad. Do you… do you realize what Sachiro’s gonna think of you when he sees you like this?”

“Gen…” Muffled sobs unwillingly came out of you, leaving you with such excruciating pain in the chest, so much so that it didn’t even feel like you had done surgery to fix your (quite literally) broken heart. “I w-want him back,” you continued to cry, “I want my husband back. I want to be with h-him, Gen.”

“Y/N.”

“Where’s S-Satoru…? D-Did he leave? Please take me to him—”

“Y/N, listen to me.” She gently cupped your cheeks, forcing you to look at her pained eyes. “You’re intoxicated. He was never here, and he’d never come for you. You have to let it go.”

“But—”

“He’s not good for you. He never will be.”

— —

It had been two weeks since Satoru last heard about you. Miwa was the one who updated him that you had already returned to your family’s mansion, letting him know that you were okay and that you were recovering well. Frankly, Satoru was starting to get annoyed at the fact that his secretary was still giving him updates about you. What did he care? He wasn’t your husband anymore.

Besides, Toji was probably visiting you every day, so why did he have to worry about you? If there was anyone he should be worried about, it was Akemi. She had been experiencing terrible pelvic cramps lately, which needed to be given serious attention, but you would never see her being dramatic about it. The only thing she needed was for Gojou to accompany her visits to the OB-GYN, and even then, she never showered herself in self-pity. She carried herself like an independent woman, and that was exactly what Satoru needed in his life right now.

He had a son to raise. He had a company to run. It wasn’t the perfect time to commit himself to someone lawfully. Heck, he didn’t even believe in marriage anymore. He realized that two people could still love each other without getting married. As long as Akemi didn’t pressure him about such things, he was fine with having her around. She didn’t ask for anything much, anyway.

As for you, well…

“What are you planning with that mansion you gifted Y/N?” asked Nanami, seated on the couch inside Satoru’s office, casually reading a newspaper. “Do you even remember that?”

He certainly did. “What about it?” he questioned, idly toying with a pen on his desk. “It’s her property now. She can sell it if she wants.”

Better yet, you should let Sachiro inherit the property someday. His son was already set for a life of privilege having wealthy parents on both sides, but wouldn’t the mansion be a substantial addition to his assets in the future? Satoru couldn’t help but envision the kind of man his son would grow up into. He hoped Sachiro would not inherit his father's immaturity and pettiness but would embody the kindness and altruism of his mother. From a business perspective, however, Satoru planned to groom his son to be a leader, as he was the sole heir to the Gojou Group. Additionally, he would also inherit half of Creston and the entirety of Hearte. No wonder Sachiro was recently listed as the wealthiest kid by Forbes Japan. He even beat Megumi Zen’in from the list even though the teenager was the heir of the Zen’in business empire.

These were the thoughts that should consume Satoru—the future, not the past. His kid, not you. And he was right about doing so, because when he came home to his penthouse, he was told that he had a visitor.

A visitor on a Wednesday afternoon?

Your brother-in-law, the esteemed prosecutor who sent his evil stepmother to jail, appeared on his front door, carrying Sachiro in his arms. It was hard to tell what type of emotions were visible on the man’s face, but he definitely didn’t bring any good news.

“Ian?” Satoru promptly made way for the man to come in, ushering him into the penthouse and allowing him to set Sachiro down. The young boy was quick to dart off to his playroom, leaving the two men in an uncomfortable silence. “What’s going on? Weekends are usually my schedule with Sachi.”

Ian cleared his throat, a hand on his pocket. “Do you mind looking after Sachiro for the time being?”

By saying ‘for the time being’, it seemed like Ian wanted to actually say ‘until further notice.’ But that confused Satoru even more, because what was happening for the man to come here and ask him to let Sachiro stay beyond the agreed schedule with his father? He couldn’t read through Ian’s expression and it was making him uneasy.

“I can, but… why so suddenly?” Gojou asked, glancing at his oblivious son.

“It’s Y/N’s idea, Gen doesn’t know about it.” Ian released an awkward chuckle. “You know how my wife is.”

Gen would absolutely hate it, Satoru was aware for sure. Though the questions lingered in his mind. “Why would Y/N want Sachi to stay with me? Where’s she?”

Was it him or was Ian having a hard time explaining the situation? It felt like he was walking on eggshells, deciding between what had to be said and what shouldn’t. He was careful with his words when he spoke again, “Y/N flew to Monaco this morning and will be back when she’s ready. She says Sachiro should spend all of his time with you while she’s gone.”

Monaco? Why would you be there?

Confusion bathed Satoru’s eyes. “Is it for a fashion event or something?”

“No, she’s just…” Ian struggled heavily. “Well, to sum it up, she has to go there to sort some things out. It’s a personal thing, but she really needs this time for herself and we think it’s the best for her right now. I don’t know how long she’s gonna stay there or when she’ll be back, but I hope you understand what I’m trying to say here.”

No, he didn’t. Satoru found it difficult to fathom his ex-brother-in-law’s words, seeing as he had no general idea of what was truly going on. But if you were flying to Monaco, surely Toji wouldn’t allow you to go there all by yourself?

Ahh. It made sense now. I see what’s happening here.

Satoru’s lips curled into sarcasm. You would be vacationing with the love of your life. Is that what it was? Planning your halted wedding? Choosing wedding gowns? Looking for venues? There was no way you would be flying to Monaco alone, especially without Sachiro around when you two had been inseparable since his birth.

“What kinda mother is she?” Satoru muttered in disgust, unaware that Ian had overheard him. But Ian had heard loud and clear. How could you leave your son behind like this? Couldn’t you face your ex-husband to discuss it, instead of just dropping Sachiro off as if he were some unwanted toy?

“Hold it right there,” Ian interjected, becoming defensive at the accusation. “You have no idea what she’s going through.”

How would he know? No one was telling him shit. No one was giving him details, so did they expect him to understand things and accept them as they were? Did they do the same thing to Satoru when he was at the verge of losing his sanity asking everyone for forgiveness over and over?

“I've never taken sides between you two, Satoru, you know that,” Ian continued, trying to maintain a calm demeanor and speak with clear judgment, “But one thing I’m not gonna let you do is call Y/N a bad mother.”

Satoru’s chest tightened at Ian's words, a mixture of guilt and frustration bubbling up inside him. He knew he shouldn’t have spoken out of turn, but the pain and resentment were too raw to contain. It felt like you were abandoning him and your child, like you were off to a new chapter in your life again, and leaving everything behind. Perhaps this was his trauma from the New York thing crawling back at him, but it definitely reminded him of the day you had abandoned him. For three fucking years. How long would it take you to return now?

Why do you keep doing this? He was sick of it. You kept running away instead of talking to him. He gets it, people change, circumstances change, but couldn’t you at least have the decency to talk to him about it? Was it wrong for him to wish you’d handled this differently? To wish that you’d talked to him, involved him in the decision-making process, instead of just making this unilateral decision and leaving him to pick up the pieces?

Satoru took a moment, collecting his thoughts before continuing. “It’s fine, I’ll take care of Sachi,” he reassured, “I’ll take some time off work and have ‘Kemi help me out.”

He looked back at Ian, his eyes pleading for further details, for answers, for some semblance of clarity in the midst of this emotional turmoil.

Yet none of it was given.

And so, would it still be wrong to assume that he could now completely forget about you? That this opportunity to be with Sachiro would allow him a chance to share it with someone else? If you spent three years of your life playing house in New York with Toji, would it still be unfair for Satoru to do the same with Akemi?

#series: sincerely yours #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #gojo angst #jjk angst

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psuedosugu · 4 months

Note

Hi! Is it cool if you write about reader trying to sneak out of the V tower at night to run away from yandere Vox? To add a twist, reader is also somehow immune to his hypnosis. Love the writing, girl! Keep it up!

thank youuu you guys are so nice, anyways reader being immune to hypnosis is such a good idea omg

cw: themes of manipulation and toxic relationships, physical violence (vox drags reader by their hair)

gender neutral

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

✮₊ ⊹ || vox hadn’t realized that you were immune to his hypnosis until far after he had fallen for you.

✮₊ ⊹ || he didn’t want to force you, he wanted the satisfaction of knowing you truly wanted him, to know that he had won you over fair and square.

✮₊ ⊹ || he did have it as a last resort though, if you ever started to reject or abandon him.

✮₊ ⊹ || see, vox is delusional as fuck. he has this romanticized view of you two’s relationship when in reality either you don’t like him nearly as much in the same way, or he’s coming on too fast and its ofputting.

✮₊ ⊹ || so if you were to break this mold of expectation, vox would obviously freak out and do anything to make you stay.

✮₊ ⊹ || vox also loves having control over everything, so once he realizes he doesn’t have control over you, he freaks out even more.

✮₊ ⊹ || he resorts to threats to try and get you to stay, some empty, some not.

✮₊ ⊹ || you can never tell though. hes a powerful overlord that has control over pretty much all electronics and im assuming all of the things that are in them (socials, private pictures, messages, ect.)

✮₊ ⊹ || if you have any type of media presence he could plant rumors about you

✮₊ ⊹ || he could find and spread leaked photos of you, he could go onto your socials/messages and send/post horrible things, and even more.

✮₊ ⊹ || despite this, you still attempt to run away from him. you weren’t exactly sure where, though. perhaps that weird hotel you had heard of, run by lucifer’s daughter.

✮₊ ⊹ || you didn’t know much about it, but you did know that vox wouldn’t check there and at this point you were desperate.

✮₊ ⊹ || so you packed your bags, left your electronics behind so he couldn’t spy on you, and set off.

✮₊ ⊹ || vox has eyes everywhere, though, so you hadn’t even left the tower before he had figured out your plan and caught you.

✮₊ ⊹ || he was absolutely livid to say the least, pulling you by the hair and scolding you.

“you ungrateful brat! i give you one inch of space and this is what you do? dont you get how much i’ve done for you?”

✮₊ ⊹ || you’re locked in your quarters until further notice. meanwhile, vox is freaking out. if he can’t hypnotize you then how will he ever make you want to stay?

✮₊ ⊹ || he goes back to love bombing you, giving you everything you could ever need.

✮₊ ⊹ || new clothes, of course! specific kind of food? coming right up. the latest tech? why didn’t you just ask earlier?

✮₊ ⊹ || its a weak method, but he’s trying his best! the least you can do is stay.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

i do requests!

check out my masterlist!

#vox #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel #vox x reader #hazbin vox #vox x you #x reader #yandere!vox x reader

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sunrise-imagines · 9 months

Note

Can I get some childhood friends to lovers hcs for Finn? Like the reader grew up with him and now they're dating as adults? Gender neutral or male reader also please :3

Of course!! I love this idea so much. Hope you enjoy!

TW: Light angst, lots of pining, hurt and comfort

Adult Finn x Reader Childhood Friends to Lovers

• Being the only two humans in Ooo, it was only a matter of time before you met each other at the ages of 12.

• Similarly to Finn, you had been found as a baby by a couple from the Candy Kingdom, and they raised you as their own with the help of Princess Bubblegum, her and Marceline becoming sort of older sister figures to you.

• One day, while visiting the castle, Ice King burst in from the wall in an another attempt to kidnap Princess Bubblegum, snow blowing everywhere as you looked up in fear.

• But then, out of nowhere, a boy with a bear hat and a magic dog burst in, beating the crap out of Ice King who fled back to his castle.

• When he turned to look at you, you both became shocked. Neither of you had any weird mutations or odd features, and he certainly wasn’t made of candy. He was human. You were the same.

• And from that day forward, you and Finn became inseparable friends, with you sometimes joining him and Jake on their many adventures.

• You watched as he grew up, fell in and out of love, found an entire island of other humans, met both his biological Mom and (deadbeat) Dad, lost his arm, and eventually prevented a war/world ending event. You sat with him as Fern lay dying, and went with him to plant the seed that would eventually sprout a new willow tree.

• Sometime after the end of Adventure Time, Finn and Huntress Wizard amicably broke up, deciding their relationship worked best as good friends/occasional work partners.

• Having developed a longtime crush on him, you had hoped that now was your chance, but your nervousness and not wanting to ruin your friendship got the better of you so you continued to admire him in secret.

• That was until Jake passed away, and Finn’s personality reverted back to when you were kids and the only thing that mattered was fighting monsters and adventuring.

• You grew concerned as he started to go on more and more dangerous missions, often times for no reason other than the thrill of it, and time after time he’d come back with even worse wounds. But you were always there to patch him up, no matter how bad it got.

• But today was different. After Simon had opened up to him and expressed his depression and how he felt out of place in this world now that he lost his magic, Finn had the bright idea that a life-threatening adventure was what he needed to cure his sadness.

• This of course went terrible for Simon, but Finn thought it was great, and when he came back afterwards with a giant slash on his back and told you about it, that was it.

• You went off on him, telling him that while you know he’s still grieving, almost getting himself killed all the time isn’t the answer. You were tired of seeing him get hurt, and in your righteous anger, you finally admitted that you were in love with him. Tears flowed down your cheeks as you softly admitted that you’d loved him since you were kids, and seeing him act like this after all of his past growth was hurting you.

• Finn’s eyes grew wide, he had no idea that you had felt that way about him. And even more, that you reciprocated the feelings he’d had since you were 18. But with everything going on, adventuring and eventually Jake’s death, he felt like he never had time to pursue a relationship you.

• So he pulls you into a hug, stroking your hair as you continue to cry into his shoulder. He apologizes for making you worry, saying that he didn’t know why he acted the way he did, he just needed a distraction from the pain of losing his brother. But in doing that, he had forgotten he still had you.

• He puts his hand on your chin, directing you to look at him. He smiles down at you, wiping away your tears with his thumb as he confesses that he felt the exact same way.

• Your tears change from ones of sadness to joy, and you feel the urge to kiss him. Luckily he has the same idea, and gently pulls you towards his lips and kisses you sweetly.

• Eventually you both pull away, and in that moment, everything feels like it’s exactly how it’s supposed to be.

• After you officially start dating, he stops going out on adventures as much, instead opting to spend more time with you and Jake’s kids.

• Of course, adventuring is still a part of him, but he focuses more on helping people than fighting and killing things, and of course he brings you along for the ride. Finally, after so many years waiting, the two of you are together.

#adventure time x reader #adventure time #adventure time imagines #finn mertens x reader #finn the human x reader #fionna and cake x reader #adventure time fanfic #finn the human #fionna and cake fanfic #fionna and cake imagine #sfw #finn x reader #adventure time fluff #fionna and cake fluff #light angst

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kissami · 5 months

Text

HEAVEN AND BACK

sum. after a tough breakup, you find comfort in things you never thought you would do.

fem!reader with she/her pronouns

warnings: drug usage, very rushed, angry katsuki but the usual, y/n is a mess lol and kinda a crybaby srry I was pmsing when I wrote this…

inspo: heavily inspired by Heaven and back by chase Atlantic I love that song sm gn

not proof read sorry I’m lazy I’ll edit it later, YOU’VE BEEN WARNED

She was always dealing with the devil

She was always into taking those chances, yeah

“Thank you, have a wonderful day.” You smiled at the customer as they grabbed their cigarettes and left the convenience store you worked at.

It was currently 7:47 PM, and all you wanted to do was be at home with your cat and sleep.

But it’s never sleep when it comes to you. It’s always work, study, work, work, repeat. Living alone was stressful, especially when you didn’t have a support system like you used to.

Your support system..your precious katsuki. Gosh how much you missed him. That night of your breakup was one of the worst things you had ever experienced.

It wasn’t like the time when you lost your pet turtle and it crawled into your father’s work boots, leading to its awful death.

It wasn’t like the time you lost the charm bracelet your best friend had gotten you for your birthday in 7th grade.

No, nothing could ever compare to the way you felt like your heart was yanked out of your chest and tossed aside like a rock.

“Being in a relationship with you is exhausting.” You remembered saying to him as he was ranting about god knows what. You didn’t remember why you two argued, or how you two got in that position.

“Are you fucking serious?” You finally realized what you had said, going up to him to apologize.

But all you remember is him scoffing with tears in his pretty ruby eyes and yanking his jacket off the coat rack, slamming the door harshly. That was the last time you seen him.

“Hi is your lane open?”

You looked up, seeing three girls who were dressed in tight dresses, fur coats with huge smiles on their faces. You caught a whiff of the familiar green plant many would find relief in and their bloodshot eyes as they looked at you in excitement.

“Yes of course. Is this all?” You scanned the bottles of Pedialyte, chuckling as the girls began to ramble.

“You’re really pretty to be working at a place like this?” One girl with brown hair and pink highlights said, holding onto her phone.

“Oh uh thanks?” You blinked at her, looking back down as you scanned the Tylenol.

 “We’re going to a party later, you should definitely come! When does your shift end?” You sighed, looking at the clock. These girls didn’t even know you and they wanted to party with you?

“It ends now, but look I don’t really go out at all though so-“

“Even more reason to come! Come on! It’ll be fun!” The shorter girl with curls said as she shoved her pixie stick in her mouth.

“I don’t even know your names.” You tried to explain, shaking your head in disagreement to this idea of theirs.

“I’m Yei, this is Lumi and Honey. We already know your name,” Yei the girl with blue hair pointed to your name tag giggling. “So there’s no other excuse. Please come with us.”

“I think that’s an amazing idea.” You felt a soft shove, looking over to see your coworker Ley looking down at you smiling.

“But I-“

“Go, Y/N. You’ve been working too hard and I know Layla asked for you to cover her shift for tonight but I refuse. As your boss and your friend, go have fun.” You sighed, nodding as you handed Ley your work apron.

Some would say it was pretty weird to have a boss who treated you this way, but you’ve know Ley since middle school. He was basically one of the reasons you still had a job here.

“I don’t even have anything to wear though.” You walked next to the girls as they dragged you along.

Said she met a couple other women

Who were into going late night dancing, yeah

You side glanced at the numerous people that were dancing along with the loud music, smoke overtaking the air as you clenched onto one of the girls’ hand, following them as they led you in further into the party.

You sighed a deep breath, feeling anxious as you watched everyone pushing and grinding on one another.

Gosh you wished you could call Katsuki to be here. Or even to just take you home.

“Hey, have a drink you look stressed.” Lumi laughed as she passes you a red cup. You gulped, smiling as you clenched it in your palm.

“Hey leave her alone, she said she’s not one to party so maybe she’s just not used to this environment.” Honey gave you a side hug and rubbed your shoulders in comfort.

‘I want to go home.’ You thought as you started to sip on the drink, making a small face at the sweetness of the alcoholic beverage, but still not putting it down.

“Mina said she was coming over with her friends.” You tensed up as you heard your old friend’s name from Yei who put her phone back in her small clutch, going back to downing the small shot glasses that were scattered around the counter.

“Mina as in-“ before you could finish, you felt warm soft arms grab your hands, squealing in your ear as you turned around to see the familiar pink girl looking at you in excitement.

“Y/N what are you doing here?!?” She asked, grabbing her hands tightly again smiling widely.

“Oh I was just-“ you looked up for a second and took a double take as you saw him.

Katsuki, standing in all his glory. His large arms in full display in that black wife beater tank, the chain that hung on the side of his loose jeans and your favorite gold chain that laid so gorgeously on his neck. You saw that he got an eyebrow piercing along with two more ear piercings and with pretty gold rings that hugged his fingers perfectly.

The fingers that were wrapped around a girl’s waist tightly.

Your breath hitched as you watched the way he smiled smugishly into the heated kiss with the girl who looked like an angel.

She was the complete opposite of you. So perfect.

You stared back at Mina with wide eyes, making her frown as she slightly turned around to see what you were looking at.

Her deep sigh of disappointment was all you needed to know.

You pulled away from Mina, walking to the bathroom as a loud sigh escaped out of your chest.

“Stupid stupid stupid.” You kept repeating to yourself as you started to put cold water on your face to cool down.

A loud knock interrupted your mini crisis. “Hey we need the bathroom!” A girl yelled, twisting the doorknob annoyingly.

“Sorry.” You whispered as you walked out, seeing two girls drag in a boy with blond hair with a lightening streak who was smiling dumbly. You now realized it was Denki who was dragged into the bathroom.

Good for him. You thought with a small smile. You began to make your way out, only to be caught by the wrist.

Looking back, you saw the face you were dreading to see now.

“Let me go, Katsuki.” You spoke sternly, yanking your arm away. You saw a small glance of hurt in his eyes that was quickly overtaken by the look of anger.

“What the hell are you doing here?” He asked, looking over your shoulder and back at you.

“Who are you with?” You rubbed your face in annoyance and frustration. “That’s none of your business.” You heard a small huff from him, seeing the way he licked his lips in irritation.

A habit you used to love because he looked so good doing it.

“It is my business when you-“ you felt another pair of hands grab your shoulder, being shoved back into a rough chest.

“Is this guy bothering you?” You looked up, feeling your breath hitch at the gorgeous man that stood before you.

He had a tight compressed black shirt with gray sweatpants. Pretty green eyes and raven black hair as he looked at Katsuki.

“Uh what?” You asked to yourself, looking back and forth as you soon realized you were in a muscle sandwich.

“Who the fuck are you?!” Katsuki barked, feeling a vein pop out of his forehead.

“Katsuki.” You spoke softly, looking up at him as he laughed softly.

“Whatever, Y/N. Do whatever the fuck you want. I’m sick of worrying about you and your stupid decisions.” He brushed you off, walking back to the girl from earlier as he grabbed her hand and dragged her out of the party.

You felt your heart hurt a bit, gulping at the way he tenderly talked to her as they left, without a second glance.

“What a crappy ex huh?” The guy joked softly, looking back down at you.

“You seem like you need something to get your mind off things.”

Then she fell in love with a pill, that could take away all her pain, yeah

“What is this?” You twirled the pastel rainbow pills in the small shot glass, looking up at the guy whos name was Kyle, in curiosity.

“I like to call them my happy pills. Come on, try it. Let it course through your veins as all your worries leave you.” He sat back in the raggedy couch that was in the basement as he smoked a joint.

You scratched your neck, feeling a bit tense and bothered as you saw the gray sweatpants that hugged his waist as he man-spread.

“I’m not gonna die, right?” You never did anything like this before, and you had no idea why you were even trusting this man with anything he was giving you.

But you were a whore for a man in a tight black shirt that showed all his good..qualities.

Then she fell in love with a whole new drug

That could fill her veins

And then

An hour later, you were laughing hysterically as you drank, looking around the room.

You felt like you were floating, never had you felt so alive before. This was a new sense of happiness you haven’t felt in all your years.

You started to feel addicted to this feeling.

She's high

She lives in the sky

Tonight, she's satisfied

Rolling back her eyes

You put your hand up, turning it as you inspected it in curiosity. Giving a side glance, you saw Kyle talking to his group of friends, smiling over to you.

You fell on the couch face first, groaning as you felt your vision start to blur.

“What?” You asked, seeing blobs looking down at you, shaking for you to stay awake.

“I’m having fun, leave me alone.” You giggle, pushing one of the face’s away, humming a song softly.

“Katsuki, please take her home.” Honey was looking down at you in worry, wiping your sweat off your forehead as she spoke in the phone.

There were incoherent voices in the background that you happily blocked as you sipped on another drink that was passed down to you.

“Get up.” After a good fifteen minutes of pure bliss when honey hung up the phone, you looked up confused to see him staring down at you completely pissed.

You looked around as Lumi helped you stand, seeing the girl who Katsuki was with looking at him annoyed but she was now sitting on Kyle’s lap drinking.

“Huh?” You asked, pushing his face aside when he tried to help you walk.

You limply looked up at him, seeing him even more mad than before had you sober up a tiny bit.

But then she starts to cry

Everything is turning to black

He lead you outside to his car, his keys jingling around while he helped you to sit inside.

You nuzzled up to the familiar texture of his seats that you used to sit in countless times before.

It was silent the whole ride and you began to cry.

Not just a normal sniffle cry. But a gut wrenching wail, the endless tears falling down your cheeks.

“Don’t be mad at me. Please I’m sorry.” You said clearly extremely intoxicated, watching him clench the steering wheel.

“I’m not mad!” He yelled, making you tense up and cry again.

“I-I’m not mad at you…okay? Whatever happened before….i forgave you for it. I’m mad at myself because I fucking left you!” You could hear the way his voice sounded so distraught and upset that it made you scotch closer to the car door a bit more.

“And what the fuck did you take?! How fucking stupid are you to do something like this? Did you even know that fucking guy?? You’re fucking smarter than this, Y/N what were you thinking??”

You felt your cheeks burn from the alcohol, the embarrassment, and the frustration.

“I wasn’t okay? I wasn’t thinking.”

“Fucking clearly. What the fuck happened to you?” You sat up, looking at him completely heartbroken as he spoke those words to you.

“It’s you! It’s all you!” You cried out. Katsuki looked at you, extremely pissed now as he slammed the car breaks which made the car shriek.

“Oh so it’s my fault now?!” Katsuki now turned his whole body to you, pushing the driver seat back so he was more comfortable as he faced you.

You scoffed, trying to open the car door only for him to reach over and slam it shut, along with putting the child locks on.

“You’re not fucking leaving. We’re going to talk. What the hell is going on?”

You looked at him as your head limply fell back, lightly hitting the seat as tears streamed your face.

“I was doing fine. Then these girls picked me up after my shift and then I went to that stupid party! Then I see you there, making out with the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. I was so upset i ran to the bathroom but then denki and some girls came in so then I left only to bump into you! After that you started being a fucking asshole which made that dude come over! The-then he gave me these pills. They made me feel fucking incredible!!”

Katsuki’s mouth opened like a fish out of water, his eyes wide as you rambled.

“So there! That’s what’s wrong with me!” Reaching over his lap, you unlocked the car and got out.

As soon as you did, the cool fresh air hit you instantly, making you hunch over as you started to throw up everything in your system.

You heaved, throwing up even more as you clenched onto the tree that was on the side of the road.

You heard the door slam and a comforting rub on your back the more you threw up.

“It’s okay. Let it out.” You turned around, feeling your legs get wobbly as you pushed his hands off.

“You said you could care less about me so leave me alone.” You spoke drunkenly, only for your head to roll back and everything going black for you.

Katsuki sighed as you plopped on the dried orange leaves that luckily saved your fall.

All in one night

She just went to heaven and back

You slowly opened your eyes, seeing that you were in the back of his car, laying across the seats with his jacket that used to be your favorite to steal.

You watched him skip through songs, groaning at the annoying stations that played.

“Who was she?” You almost laughed at the way he jumped, turning to see you sitting up now.

“Jesus fuck, you scared the hell out of me.” you could practically hear the way his heart was racing and ponding from the tight grip he had on the steering wheel.

“Answer my question.” Katsuki stayed silent.

“Just…a girl I started talking to.” Humming in response, you leaned your head against the car window.

“That’s why I did it. As pathetic as it sounds, I took those pills to forget about tonight. To get that imagine of you kissing her so lovingly out of my fucking head.” You didn’t realize just how much you started to cry, only seeing your tears landing on your hands that were laying on your lap.

“Y/N-“

“It’s my fault though. I was so stressed with school and making sure I had enough money for the week that I was so mean to you when you tried to talk to me that night. I’m sorry I said you were exhausting. I’m sorry I’ve been a shitty girlfriend to you, I’m sorry for everything.”

Silence.

You wanted to bury yourself in embarrassment at the way you had rambled your apology, overthinking that maybe he didn’t give a shit about you or your relationship anymore.

“I can see you having a fight with yourself, stop it.” Katsuki gave you a deep sigh, thinking for a bit before he gave himself a small nod.

“Don’t…apologize. I was being an asshole too and pushing your limits when you were saying you weren’t in the mood to speak. I should’ve given you your space. I’m sorry I fucking kissed that girl.”

Before you could respond, he parked the car and you finally realized where you were at now. You were parked right outside his apartment.

The door opened and Katsuki sat next to you.

“Look at me,” he grabbed your hand. “I’m sorry. We both were…really shitty with each other and I’m sorry. I want…to work things out. Maybe it isn’t our time yet, but I just want you.” Katsuki looked down at you, wiping your cheeks.

“I love you. So much. But I can’t…not right now. Not when I have so much regret and resentment with myself for letting this shit happen to you.”

You hum, looking down at your hands as you were thinking of what to say.

“It’s crazy how much shit can happen in one night huh…but can I ask a favor from you?” He looked at you, waiting for you to continue.

“Can we stay like this? Just for tonight like old times? Before I lose you again?”

#kissami #x reader #angst #katsuki x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugo katuski #katsuki bakugou #bnha bakugo katsuki #bnha bakugou #mha bakugou #bakugou angst #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki x y/n #katsuki x you #katsuki bakugo mha #mha x reader #mha #my hero academia

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borathae · 2 years

Text

“A terrible storm forces you and your lover to stay inside. Luckily for you, Yoongi has the best ideas to pass the time. Candlelight, soft touches and Shibari.”

Pairing: Vampire!Yoongi x f.Reader

Genre: established relationship!AU, Smut, BDSM theme

Warnings: soft Dom!Yoongi, sub!Reader, Shibari, he is so gentle with her, strength kink, he carries her cause he's a strong vampire & she loves that he does, lots of kisses, body worshipping, breast worship, praising, loving petnames, scent kink, fangs, gentle biting, oral (f.receiving), male masturbation, the safest subspace, loving aftercare, also I am aware that most rope art sessions don't include a lot of fumbling and that just the act of tying is considered enough but I wanted to put my own take on it because I think that Yoongi whilst finding great pleasure in the act of tying would still want to shower her in a little bonus attention

Wordcount: 6.8k

a/n: Upon popular demand here is Sanguis!Yoongi being in a soft dom mood and tying OC's body. There is just something about him taking the lead that makes me go 🥴dumb🥴, like he treATS HER SO WELL FUCK

You are sharing a blanket and a pillow, lying on the fur rug in front of the fireplace and playing shadow puppets.

It's storming outside. It enters the estate through the smallest of nooks and crannies, making the entire building sing. You don’t mind the sounds because you are cozied up with your love and like this, nothing can hurt you.

"Raawr", Yoongi mimics the growl of a wolf right before his little shadow wolf attacks your shadow rabbit and eats it.

"No, why did you do that?" you whine.

Yoongi chuckles softly, giving your hand a little squeeze.

"Don't blame me, that’s the circle of life."

"Yeah? Hssss", you make weird hissing sounds, attacking Yoongi’s wolf with a weirdly shaped humanoid figure, "dead."

"Dead? Sorry, what exactly was that supposed to be? A weird lump?"

"You, duh? You vampire-killed the wolf, obviously."

"That's not how I look", Yoongi complains in a laugh, "or sound. When have I ever hissed like that?"

"All the time."

"All the time?"

You turn your heads, looking at each other.

"Yep, you just don’t notice."

"You’re a brat", he says, tilting his head so your noses would touch.

You steal a kiss as an answer. Yoongi keeps his eyes closed afterwards, smiling softly.

Outside the storm picks up, throwing the rain against the windows angrily. Almost as if it wanted to punish it for something nobody will ever find out.

Lighting.

Instant thunder.

"Geez", you startle, drawing closer to Yoongi on instinct.

"Don't be scared, I’m here", he says in a soothing voice, letting you cuddle into his side all while his arm lays itself under your head.

"I'm not scared. Thunder is just so loud", you tell him.

"I know, right? We must be in the worst part right now."

Lighting and thunder again, howling of the strong wind and clattering of the shutters, forcing a flinch through you. Yoongi presses you closer instinctively, rubbing his hand up and down your arm slowly.

"God Yoongi, not gonna lie, maybe I'm a little scared. I don’t mind rain, but it’s so scary when the wind is really strong", you confess, which earns you a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"Don't be. This castle has seen it all. We're safe here."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm, yeah", he promises and kisses the bridge of your nose.

“Do you think my plants will be okay? What if they rip off?”

“I’m sure they will be okay. They’re strong”, he assures you.

“You think so?”

Yoongi hums a yes and kisses the tip of your nose, before trailing his kisses up to your forehead. You can’t deny the comfort this brings you, melting into a puddle of relaxation.

"You know what we should do?" he asks you.

"What? Tell me", you say, craning your neck to look up at him.

"Do something that takes your mind off the storm."

“Something that takes my mind off the storm?”

“Mh-hm yeah”, he mumbles, placing a kiss on your lips.

"And what's that supposed to be? Mhm?" you tease, caressing his tummy.

"Well, I", he flips you to your back, lying himself between your legs, "feel like being creative."

"Creative? Tell me more about it."

"Have you ever heard of Shibari?"

"Japanese rope art? Of course I have. There are a few books about it in the library. Why?"

"I'm into it."

"Well damn, Yoongi. You are full of surprises. First you let me be your kidnapper and now this. What’s next?”

“Ice cubes up my ass, always wanted to try.”

“Geez Yoongi.”

He chuckles, “I’m messing with you”, he says and pecks your cheek.

“Why do I get a feeling that you aren’t?”

“You can’t prove it”, he says and takes your hands to pin them above your head. Then he begins tracing your wrists and lower arms.

He does this often when you and him are alone. Pinning each other’s hands above the other’s heads has become such a regular thing in your cuddles that you aren’t surprised by when he does it tonight. As a matter of fact, you helped him with it, now enjoying the soft, innocent touches he gives you.

Thunder roars through the night again. The lighting brings out his real eyes for a quick second.

Yoongi intertwines his fingers with you, looking at you with mesmerised eyes.

“I can’t prove it?” you ask him.

“Yeah”, he grins boyishly, “so what do you think? Want to do something else?”

You know that Yoongi is shifting attention with that question, but you don’t mind.

“Is cuddling not good enough for you?” you tease him.

“No it’s good”, Yoongi says without hesitation. He buries his face in the crook of your neck and begins leaving kisses there, “just thought that maybe you wanted to do something else.”

“Are you going to do it to me or can I do it to you?” you ask him with your eyes closed because his neck kisses are to die for.

“I’m fine with both. What do you want to do? The decision is yours.”

“The decision is mine? But it was your idea.”

“I know, I want you to decide.”

“Fine, I’ll decide that you should decide.”

Yoongi huffs out air, “brat, just use your words”, he says, lifting his head for the sole purpose of sending you a faux annoyed look.

“I am.”

“No you’re not, you’re deflecting.”

You snicker, lifting your shoulders to your ears in a shy squirm. Yoongi’s eyes soften.

“Fuck, you’re so cute”, he presses out, using his strength to pull you up and sit you down on his lap. He kisses you, swallowing the surprised squeak you let out with gratefulness.

He breaks the kiss when you are searching for his closeness by pressing yourself into him. He tugs imaginary strands of hair behind your ears before cupping both your cheeks.

“Can I do it to you?” he asks you with his breathing quickened.

“Yeah”, you say quietly.

“Yes? Do you want me to do it to you, princess?”

You nod your head, squirming on his lap.

“Say it for me, love.”

“Yes, please do it to me”, you tell him.

“That’s my best girl”, he praises, speeding up your heartbeat with the praise. He soothes his fingers down your cheek, taking your chin between his thumb and pointer finger afterwards. It is such a small gesture, but it makes you fall. Yoongi knows so well just where to touch and what to say to get you there instantly. Into this warm fuzzy space of giving up control and letting him guide the journey. It feels so nice to fall when Yoongi is the one pushing you over the edge.

“Can you tell me what you say when you want me to stop, princess?”

“Snowdrop or I just have to think it and you’ll stop.”

Yoongi smiles proudly, caressing your chin once.

“Good job”, he praises, dancing his thumb over your lips.

You ache for the weight of it on your tongue, all of your senses are telling you to open your mouth and take him inside. But you shouldn’t because you would look too needy and Yoongi hasn’t even really started yet.

Not that he can’t already smell how excited you are. Your sweetness has been filling his senses ever since he dragged you on top of his lap.

“Now come with me”, he says, standing up with you in his arms.

“Why?”

“You get to choose the ropes, of course”, he says and smiles when you melt closer to him with a shy sigh. He pats your butt gently, pecking your cheek after you wrapped your arms around him and hid your face in his neck.

Yoongi takes you to his secret room. Hidden behind one of the bookshelves in his office with the doorknob camouflaged as a bust lies a spacious room. And in said room he is storing his insane collection of toys in hand carved furniture and displays. Sextoys if one may add.

Yoongi told you that this was the secret room he told you about all whilst you were still trying not to pass out in shock.

“I thought this was a joke”, you said back then, but ten minutes later he had you writhing for him on his big bed and with an array of toys by your side and you were very happy that he was not joking back then.

Yoongi sits you down on the massage desk he has standing in one corner of the room. He tries to step back only to fail when you hold him tightly.

“Princess”, he chuckles, squeezing your sides, “you’ve gotta let go.”

“Don’t wanna, you’re so warm.”

“Come on, let go”, he orders lovingly, tugging your arms away for you. But you wrap yourself right around him again, making him chuckle, “fine, then stay”, he says and picks you back up with one arm.

He carries you to the drawer and opens it, rummaging through it while you sigh and hum in his arm.

“Look princess, which ones do you want?”

You lift your head from his shoulder, looking at him with sparkly eyes. He pinches your cheek softly.

“Don’t look at me, look at the ropes”, he says with a smile.

“You’re so strong, Yoongi.”

“Love, the ropes”, he says, barely stifling the snicker threatening to escape.

“Oh yeah”, you say, turning your head. You rest your cheek on his shoulder and look into the drawer.

Yoongi has an impressive collection of ropes. Different colours, thicknesses, lengths and even materials. You can’t run out of ropes with him that much is sure (unless he rips through them again like he did that night).

“I want black”, you tell him.

“That’s a good choice and what material?”

“Something that feels good.”

He chuckles, “you’re something else. You know I can make every material feel good”, he says and grabs a bundle of tossa jute ropes, “let’s go with those, okay? They’ll look good and feel nice too.”

“Yes okay, I trust you.”

"Feel it", he offers you the rope and you do.

"Really soft. I want that one."

"As you wish."

Yoongi closes the drawer after grabbing a pair of safety scissors and leaves the toy room afterwards, locking it behind himself.

Once back in the bedroom, he sits down on the fur, placing you on top of his lap.

“How are you doing?” he asks, “do you still want to do it?”

“Yes, I’m already really excited. I never did actual rope art before.”

“I’ll go slow, okay? You’ll really love it, I promise.”

“I know. I never doubted you”, you tell him, caressing his shoulders, "that’s why I'm so excited because I know you'll make it fun."

Yoongi gives you a quick smile then lifts you off his lap, sitting you down on the fur. He gets on all fours to make it easier to kiss you. First your forehead then your lips. The kiss is meant to calm you down and really get you in the zone. Not that he has to do a lot for that to happen. You are so, so gone in the zone.

Yoongi breaks the kiss, gazing at you with loving eyes.

"You're so beautiful, my love", he whispers.

"You too", you tell him, feeling oh so giddy.

"Now tell me. Do you want to try it with your clothes on or can I undress you?"

"Which one feels better?"

"They both feel nice, it depends if you want to be naked or not", he explains and pecks your cheek just because he wanted to.

"It depends?" you ask.

"Yes, the decision is all yours, my princess. You don’t have to get naked if you don’t want to", he says quietly before nibbling on your ear gently.

Shivers run down your spine, your hands fall to his shoulders to hold him.

"I want to. Please Yoongi take off my clothes", you sigh, feeling him smile against your skin.

"Of course, my beautiful. Anything you want", he says and hooks his fingers in the hem of your shirt.

You help him by lifting your arms over your head. The shirt is off quickly, now discarded and forgotten.

"Oh princess", Yoongi says, letting his eyes run over your torso, "I won’t ever grow bored of that view."

"Don't say that", you whisper shyly, squirming when Yoongi gets even closer to you as he reaches behind you to open your bra.

The clasp opens with a skilled flick of his fingers. Yoongi however takes his time, lowering his head so he could trail kisses along your left shoulder. And while he kisses you, his fingers play with the bra strap, tugging it down your shoulder more and more until it finally slips down your arm.

You gasp as this happened, gasping again when Yoongi changes shoulders and begins kissing your skin with devoted lips. Down and down his fingers tug until finally the strap falls and with it your bra.

Yoongi doesn’t look at first, instead he continues kissing your shoulder, dancing his lips to your neck. One kiss right where your pulse is racing, then he lifts his head.

He looks at your chest, eyes filling with wonder.

"Look at you", he says, "shit, I can’t wait to put rope around them."

"Do you think it will look nice?"

"Of course it will. Your body is perfect for it", he says and smiles softly, "and your tits are the best."

"God Yoongi, stop being cheesy."

"It's you who taught me, don’t blame the student", he teases, which earns him a soft nudge to his chest.

"You're stupid", you murmur, making him chuckle.

"Perhaps", he says, sitting back on his heels. With fond eyes he studies your body.

You find yourself burning up under his intense gaze whilst at the same time basking in it. You feel shy and yet so incredibly attractive. Truly, being gazed upon by Yoongi feels like such a blessing.

"Do you want the pants gone too or should we keep them on?" he asks.

"Yes, gone please."

"Then stand up for me."

You follow with wobbly knees. Yoongi makes sure to support you by placing his strong hands on your waist. Like this he is kneeling in front of you, gazing up at you with love drunk eyes.

"My beautiful queen", he whispers, burying his face in your stomach. His hands, once on your sides, travel to your lower back. He hugs you oh so tightly, placing the most devoted kiss on your stomach.

"Tickles", you giggle, writhing away from him but he only pulls you closer.

"Don't flee, let me hold you", he orders so sweetly you can’t disobey.

Giggling, you allow him to place his kisses on your lower tummy and for his hands to rub up and down your back.

He slows down once the hem of your pants brush against his lips. With a flutter of his lashes, he looks up at you as he hooks his fingers in your pants and begins pulling.

First over the swell of your butt and then down in the front. Yoongi shifts his gaze to your lips and the way they are parting.

The fabric pools around your ankles. Said ankle gets touched by Yoongi before he makes you step out of the pants leg. He repeats it with the other side, running his hands up your legs once done.

"Spread your legs a little", he orders, touching your inner thighs.

You do so gladly, moaning softly when Yoongi uses the opportunity to leave a tender bite on your sensitive inner thigh. It was just a brush of his teeth and then his soft lips follow.

The other side gets kisses and a whispered praise of just how soft you are and a promise that he won’t ever grow bored of this feeling. And while he whispers sweet nothings into your skin, his fingers make sure that your panties leave your body.

You step out of them all on your own, sneaking a shy glance down at him. Yoongi is mesmerised by your middle as always. Not a day goes by where this man becomes any less obsessed with your core, tonight is no different. He inhales deeply and shudders.

"You smell so goddamn sweet", he rasps, pulling you closer with his hands on your butt.

You squeak and stumble, finding hold in his hair. You are so ready to get his tongue that it almost feels like betrayal when he doesn’t lock his mouth onto your pussy. Instead he kisses the spot right above it, inhaling with a deep growl of bliss.

"So fucking sweet", he mumbles, squeezing your butt.

"Please", you whimper, making him lift his head.

"Please what?"

"Eat me out."

Yoongi shakes his head, "not yet."

"But-"

"Be patient", he warns, squeezing your hips sternly, "now kneel for me."

"You're so mean", you mumble, following the command even if it hurts. You really, really wanted to be eaten out by him. Oh, you are yearning for it.

"Don't give me that face", Yoongi says, taking your chin between his fingers.

It only makes you pout harder, just so you can see what he will do.

"No, no", he says, gripping your cheeks softly yet sternly, "no pouting."

You furrow your brows. Yoongi squeezes your cheeks.

"No frowning either", he orders, dropping your cheeks just so he can caress your chin most tenderly with his thumb.

You relax your features because quite frankly, it feels so good to be good for him.

"There we go, you’re so beautiful", he praises, tracing your lips with his fingertips.

"Yoongi", you whisper.

"Yes, princess?"

"Just…want more", you murmur.

He chuckles and sits back on his heels, "you're so impatient", he says, "but fine, let's start with the tying. I'll go slow, okay?"

"Yes okay."

"Do you want me to restrain some of your movements or should we try merely decorative for a start?"

"What's better?"

"They’re both good. One will feel more constricting while the other will feel free."

"I don't know yet. Can we try without restraints?"

"Of course, that’s a good decision", he says and reaches for the ropes. He places them next to you, putting the safety scissors right next to them.

"Why do you have scissors?" you ask him.

"It's for getting you out quickly in case you don’t want to anymore for any reason or it starts to hurt."

"Can’t you just rip through the ropes? You’ve ripped through so many already."

Yoongi laughs and shakes his head, "I could, but let's not risk me giving you rope burns because I caused friction. Scissors are safer."

"Okay", you say, watching with great interest as he decides on which rope to get, "thank you for doing this with me and for explaining all of it. It’s so much fun to learn with you."

Yoongi sneaks a fond glance at you before looking back at the ropes.

"Thank you for wanting to do this with me. You’re fulfilling a dream of mine", he says and lifts a bundle of neatly tied rope, "I will wrap this around your torso now, okay?"

"Yes, just tell me what to do."

"Relax and enjoy it", he says, crawling behind you, "I will tell you whenever you need to do something."

"Okay", you say, shivering when Yoongi wraps his arms around you from behind and kisses your neck.

You let your head fall against his shoulder, caressing his lower arms.

"Is this part of it?" you sigh.

"It's all part of it. I'll make you feel so good, princess", he whispers against your skin, "so good, hear me?"

"Yeah, I do", you tell him, exhaling shakily when he sucks on your favourite spot.

"So sweet", he rasps, "love your taste."

"Tickles", you sigh, shivering like crazy.

He purrs and finally releases your tender skin. He kisses the spot to soothe it, placing the next kiss on your shoulder. And while he kisses you, he begins tying you by placing the rope around your shoulders.

"How's that?" he asks.

"Really soft", you say, drawing closer.

"That's good to hear, I’ll do the first knot now, ready?"

You nod your head, "so ready", you say, looking down at your own torso.

Yoongi placed the rope around your shoulders in a way so that the ends would tangle over your torso on each side. He crosses said sides, securing the position with an intricate knot. He continues the pattern all the way down to your belly button, leaving little kisses and bites on your shoulders and neck the entire time.

"That's so pretty", you say, arching your back to help Yoongi. He is trailing the rope to your back, guiding it along your waist before crossing it in the back. It tickles as he ties the knot.

"I've only started, it'll get nicer."

"But it's already so nice. It's like I'm wearing a pretty tie."

Yoongi chuckles deeply, inching closer now that he reaches to the front again. He kisses your jawline as he does, eliciting a surprised yet happy gasp from you.

He ties another knot and guides the rope to the back. And as he does, he makes sure to dance his fingertips over your skin, forcing goosebumps to cover every inch of your body.

Your hips are squirming, your thighs press together. You can’t lie, this turns you on a lot. He is attentive and slow in his touches. The feeling is so special, riling you up so wonderfully.

Yoongi breaks away from your neck, "stay like this, okay?"

"What are you doing?"

"Gotta get to the front."

"Okay."

Yoongi sits down on his heels and reaches for the second rope. He begins by securing it on the loops he created with the first rope. Like this a criss-cross pattern adorns your upper chest, looking like the most intricate neck piece. Once done, he leads it above your breasts, forcing heat to your cheeks.

"Oh god that’s-" you fluster, meeting his concerned gaze.

"Why's your heart racing? Should we stop?"

"No, it’s just so", you lower your gaze and giggle, "my boobs are so framed now."

Yoongi smiles warmly, "I know", he says in a sweet voice, "they look so beautiful this way."

You look at him, feeling oh so beautiful. Especially when he comes closer as he wraps the rope around you.

"Yoongi, it feels good", you whisper, getting lost in his eyes.

"It does", he speaks gently, guiding the soft rope back to the front to attach it to the loop right between your breasts.

He works so diligently and intently. Like most things he does. Cooking, baking, making music, even simple tasks like placing groceries in the cart or helping you in the garden. Yoongi does them with such intent and always with so much tender care. For someone who could easily lift a car with one arm and for someone who insists to not know how to be gentle, he carries nothing but softness in his hands.

Yoongi lifts his head, meeting your glassy gaze.

"What's the matter?"

"It's just that everything you do is always so gentle", you whisper, "I feel so safe with you."

"Oh", he flusters, "thank you", he cringes, "sorry, I meant you can. I want you to feel safe."

"I do."

Yoongi looks at you. Feeling overwhelmed by happiness, he leans in to kiss your lips.

"Nothing's gonna hurt you, love", he whispers, "as long as you want to be with me, I won’t leave your side."

"Good then don’t ever leave."

Yoongi exhales shakily, nodding his head, "promise."

"Good."

He works with even more tenderness for his next tie. Guided to the back once before brought to the front right underneath your breasts, the soft rope gets tied to one of the loops. Like this your chest piece is finished, now framing your breasts most beautifully. The rope feels snug against your chest without giving pressure. It’s such a nice feeling.

"There we go", Yoongi says, stopping his tying for a moment to admire his work, "you look fucking beautiful."

You sneak a glance down at yourself, feeling your heart flutter.

'They’re so in focus", you whisper, looking at his face instead.

He is mesmerised, nodding his head in agreement whilst his eyes race over your framed breasts.

He places his big hands underneath them, running his thumb along the black rope. It elicits an impatient gasp from you, forcing your back to arch into his touch in chase for more.

Yoongi gives it to you gladly, leaning down to place the most tender kiss on your skin. He places his left hand right between your shoulder blades, helping you arch your back just right so he can reach your chest easier. And while he does, his right hand massages your unkissed breast as his lips travel along your other side.

You feel your skin prickle as Yoongi takes your nipple between his lips to suck it softly. Wet and warm the sensation lingers on your skin, turning into a cold shiver once he releases your swollen pebble to kiss your flesh instead.

"You're my prettiest", he praises, sealing the promise with a kiss to the part which tingles the most.

You squirm, giggling quietly.

He lifts his gaze upon hearing his favourite sound, giving you a blinding smile.

"Do that again", he says, eliciting a giggle from you just because he is Yoongi and you’re so happy because of him. He raises his head quickly, noses brushing together and breaths intermingling as he giggles with you, "this is my favourite sound", he confesses, claiming your lips in a kiss mid-smile.

You feel so giddy once he pulls back, squirming happily when he looks into your eyes.

"Don't ever stop doing it", he orders and you nod your head, "good. My pretty."

And with that he grabs the rope again to continue his tying. He wraps it around your torso, tying it in the back before guiding it to the front and securing it in one of the loops. Like this one more intricate netting is sitting right underneath your chest, accenting your curves perfectly.

Yoongi finishes off with a comfortable knot at the back, travelling his hands over the ropes on his way to the front.

"The chest piece is done", he tells you, admiring his work with lovedrunk eyes, "it's fucking beautiful on you."

"You really think so?"

"Of course, hey", he takes your waist between his safe hands, tugging you close to him. His eye contact is intense and mesmerising, "you're the most beautiful person ___, do you hear me? Don’t doubt yourself."

"You're so cheesy", you murmur, having to giggle afterwards.

"I'm serious", he says, allowing you to wrap your arms around his waist so you can hug him.

"I'm so happy", you confess.

"Me too", Yoongi says, caressing the back of your neck. He loves how good you smell. Happiness and so much love. You smell so good this way.

"What are you going to do next?" you ask him, melting under his loving caress.

"I could do your legs", he offers, "if you still want to continue, that is."

"Yes please, do my legs", you plead, sitting back impatiently, "should I do it like that?"

"No, stand up again."

You follow happily, gasping as Yoongi grips your hips strongly just to squeeze them.

"You're so wet, what the hell", he murmurs, eyes glued to your pussy.

"Taste it?" you offer in a shy whisper, earning yourself a glance from you.

"Don't tempt me", he says, kissing your lower tummy, "fuck, I wanna have you."

"Don't say that", you whine, rubbing your thighs together which makes Yoongi growl playfully.

He pinches your tummy with his teeth, squeezing your hips. Then he sits back on his heels, starting his art by wrapping the rope around your waist a few times until you are wearing a comfortable rope belt. It feels like unbearable teasing to have him so close to where it aches the most, but with no intention of stilling said ache. You can barely stand still without feeling the urge to rub your thighs together or buck your hips closer to him.

"Base is done", he announces, gripping the rope belt just so he can tug you closer.

"A-ah", you stumble, knees wobbling unbearably because like this you can feel his breath swirl over your pussy.

"I can do this now", he says, half-lidded eyes glued to your pussy, "I can tug you closer, princess."

You roll your hips into him, hoping for a brush of his lips. But Yoongi doesn’t give it to you, moving his head back and leaving you oh so desperate. You whine, which he ignores with a small smirk curling at the right corner of his lips.

He drops his hands from the rope belt, reaching for another set of rope. He starts off with your left leg, using the black rope to draw a pattern of tight knots and symmetrical loops down your thigh. It feels so torturously good. You are so terribly desperate for his touch. Granted, his touch has been dancing over your skin ever since he began tying, but it is not what you crave most. You want him between your legs, lapping at your aching core and gripping your hips strongly.

Yoongi lifts his head after finishing the pattern. His eyes are ruby, glowing in insatiable hunger for you. The view makes your knees wobble and for your pussy to ache even more.

"I'm so dizzy", he confesses, "you smell so fucking good. It’s so hard to concentrate."

"Please don’t hold back", you beg, rolling your hips against nothing in hopes he understands.

His eyes flicker, tongue darting out to wet his lips.

"Shit, princess you’re so temptatious", he croaks, squeezing your hips as his eyes flit to your pussy. He draws closer, moaning softly as he parts his lips.

"Yes, please", you keen, chasing him. Finally. Finally you will get his touch.

You can already feel it on you. His soft lips, his wet tongue, his warmth and eagerness. Yoongi ate you out so many times already that you can recall just how wonderful he feels, riling yourself up in the process.

Yoongi darts his tongue out, being so close that you can feel the heat radiate off of him. Your clit throbs, you feel excitement spill out of you.

Even closer. Yoongi inhales deeply, twisting his fingers in the rope belt. One more tilt of his head. You close your eyes in preparation, leaking like crazy.

"No", the warmth disappears, leaving you hurting in desperation, "stop tempting me. I'm not done yet."

"Yoongi please", you whimper, knees wanting to give up on you. Holy shit, you feel edged even if he didn't touch you.

"No. No whining. I have to finish this", he says, voice raspy in his own desperation. He suffers just as much as you do. He wants nothing more than your sweetness.

He works sloppily on your second leg. Not that he wants to, but his fingers are shaking and his vision is blurry and because of that, he messes up too many times for his liking.

He opens yet another wrongly done knot, lifting his head.

"Can you see what you're doing to me? I've messed up again", he says, speech impared by his fangs.

"Please hurry up", you beg, twisting his hair between your clammy fingers.

Yoongi curses, fixating his gaze back to his work. Two more knots and then the pattern is finished. He works with his breathing sped up and his cock straining his pants. One more knot. You moan above him, filling his nose with your sweet scent.

Yoongi gulps, feeling drool drip from his chin. He doesn’t bother to wipe it, instead he licks his lips and furrows his brows.

One more. He can do it. He is a master of control after all. Controlling his desire for you has to be easy for him. One more knot.

He shivers as you twist his hair again, feeling his control slip more and more.

He blinks rapidly to focus his eyes. One more knot! It’s not that hard.

Yoongi finally manages to perfect it.

"Finally", he says, "holy fuck, princess", he growls, picking you up within a second just to, one more second later, have you on top his chaiselounge, forcing a high-pitched moan out of you.

He grabs you by your rope belt and tugs you right to the edge of it, so he can kneel between your spread legs and admire your pussy.

And he does, he admires her with tripping fangs and a throbbing cock.

"You're so soaked", he growls, pulling you onto his face with the help of the ropes.

"Ah!" your voice is pitched, sounding so terribly desperate, "Yoongi", his name is soaked in pleasure, your legs are trembling.

Yoongi pins down your squirming hips with the help of the ropes, looking up at you with his mouth latched onto your swollen clit.

Your gazes meet. Yoongi thrusts his hips against nothing because of it, feeling way too desperate. You look so ruined. Eyes all out of focus and lips agape.

He breaks away from you.

"You taste fucking amazing tonight", he rasps, "I'm going crazy."

"Yoongi", you whimper, reaching for his hair.

He gives it to you with a tilt of his head, using the moment to play with your clit. With his tongue, flicking and swirling it over your sensitive bundle of nerves until he has you whimpering loudly and your hips chase him desperately.

"Shit princess", he breaks away in a demonic growl, concoction of your juices and his drool tripping down his chin, "you have too much power over me. I just wanted to tie you and now look at me", he laughs lazily, tilting his head back to show off his deep red lips glistening because of you, "drowning in your pussy juice like it's my purpose."

You mewl, silencing his dangerous tongue by pushing him onto your pussy. He moans loudly, accepting his fate with rolled back eyes.

He slurps and swallows loudly, using his entire head to grind his mouth and tongue against your pussy. He lingers on your favourite spots, speeds up when you taste the sweetest, growls when you shake in surprise.

You are moaning and whimpering above him, twisting his hair and arching your back way too often. Waiting for his touch for so torturously long was so worth it. He feels like the only heaven you want to be sent to.

Not long and his pants are pulled down just enough that he can get his cock out. The fabric of them pinches him right at his base, but Yoongi likes that sensation. It makes his cock even harder and his veins oh so swollen.

He breaks away from your pussy just so he can spit a healthy amount of your juices and his drool into the palm of his hand. He wraps his soiled hand around his cock and begins jerking himself off quickly.

"Fuck", he curses under his breath, "fucking shit princess, you got me jerking off", he tells you, smothering himself with your pussy again.

You throb against him, hips rolling up and voice trembling in your throat.

Yoongi rarely jerks off. That’s what he told you. And to know that you've got him so good tonight that he can only handle himself by jerking off makes you want to pass out right here and there. You've got him jerking off. You've got him fucking jerking off.

Just imagining how his big hand works his cock, how small it probably makes it look even if Yoongi is far from being small, just how prominent his veins must look. How his knuckles most definitely turned pale because you learned that if Yoongi grips his cock, he grips it hard. And then how wet he must be, how his spit and your juices are mixing with his precum and covering every single inch of his swollen cock and huge hand.

"Fuck Yoongi, please slow down", you beg, because your own imagination got you way too close.

Yoongi breaks away, licking his soiled lips.

"Are you close?" he asks, arm tensing and relaxing in sync with his hand around his cock. It taunts you that you can't see more. Just his arm and his torso moving. Nothing more.

"You're jerking off, it’s so hot", you keen, painting a dark smirk to his lips.

"Only you can make me wanna do that, princess", he rasps, sticking out his tongue only to seconds later drag it through your folds to your sensitive clit.

You tense up. Shudder. Moan.

Yoongi flicks it right where it feels the best, fueling the fire, which seconds ago died down so gently. The flames are getting hotter and hotter again, your stomach tightens uncontrollably.

"Slow please", you beg, twisting his hair.

Yoongi squeezes around his sensitive cockhead, growling into your pussy. He won't slow down because he wants you to cum on his tongue. It’s all he needs.

"Yoongi please, I'm gonna cum", you mewl, kicking the pillows desperately.

"Good", he growls, pinning down your hips whilst twisting his hand around his cock. He flicks his tongue over your favourite spot, lifting his gaze because he knows it is time.

"I'm cumming", you gasp, coming undone with an arch of your back as you throw your head back as far as possible.

Yoongi moans deeply, squeezing his eyes shut. Your taste becomes a hundred times better, coating his throat and tongue.

"Fu-uck", he gets out and then his cock throbs in his own high, soiling his hand and clothes with his hot seed. It’s the best fucking orgasm ever, he thinks, as he keeps licking your clit even through his shakes.

He wants you to feel fucking eternal and you do. You feel so fucking good.

You can hear your own heartbeat in your ears once you come down, flinching in overstimulation which Yoongi thankfully registers. He pulls back, littering your inner thighs with kisses instead.

"Good job, my princess", he praises, voice trembling in the aftershocks of what just happened.

"I'm so dizzy", you get out, staring at the far away ceiling and wondering if it has always been dark blue (it has).

"Me too", Yoongi agrees, climbing atop the chaise lounge with wobbly knees, "look at what you made me do."

Your eyes flit down, "oh god, Yoongi", you have to laugh, "how hard did you cum?"

"So hard, it’s everywhere", he says, plopping down on top of you, "that was the best orgasm ever."

"Really? The best ever?"

"One of many. You’re so good", he says and lifts his head, "but how are you doing? Is everything alright with you?"

"Yeah", you say in a cute voice, expression becoming terribly goofy, "I'm so fuzzy and happy. You made me cum so hard."

His features soften, "that’s what I like to hear. You’re my queen, you deserve the best."

You giggle.

Yoongi cups your face, caressing your cheek with his eyes spilling over in love.

"You're so cute", he says, "shit, I wanna put you in my pocket."

"Please do, I bet it's so cozy", you say, making him chuckle and pinch the tip of your nose.

"I'll eat you", he says, kissing your cheek before biting it carefully, "my princess", he whispers solely because he loves nothing more than those two words.

You chase his closeness, feeling so incredibly warm and safe. He wraps his arms around you, rolling you and him to the side so you can really hide in his chest. And you do. You hide in his embrace until the world around you is gone. It’s just you and him right now. You couldn’t handle more. Naked, high in your afterglow and so vulnerable you can only handle him to be present.

Yoongi loves to be that for you. Your escape and safe space to calm down and find your way back again. He knows that you won’t be able to talk for a while, just as he won’t get a lot of other reactions from you. You are gone in his embrace. But he doesn’t mind, he wants you to take all the time you need.

He kisses the crown of your head and closes his eyes, getting lost in the feeling of holding the only treasure he will ever have the honour of calling his’. He will clean up both of you later, he will open the ropes and run you a warm bath and then he will wash your hair according to how you showed him. And then he will cook you something small and make you tea to warm you up and he will give you his softest jumper to wear.

But for now he will lie here and hold you.

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writeforfandoms · 1 year

Text

Waking Lions 4

Find the series masterlist

You learn some things, do Laswell a favor, and run into Captain again. This is becoming a bad habit.

Speech in italics is Russian, this chapter.

Warnings: Swearing, aftermath of violence, vague threat from terrorist, MW2019 typical Russians, blood, injury (not to reader), spy shit.

Word count: 2k

Serious slow burn John Price x f!reader

You discovered the plot on accident. Really.

It was just… one of those things.

Sergio had invited you to stay for a few days and play with his girls, so you did. You brought them gifts from Turkey, California, and Scotland (you’d had a layover and had gotten bored in the airport).

The girls were darling, and you’d known them both all their lives. You would never, ever marry Sergio (not least because of his obsession with the next future ex-wife) but you loved his kids. Sophia and Natalia. For a while, when you’d initially started building this relationship, you’d helped tutor Sophia.

Now, you played with the girls and helped to keep them out of trouble and helped with their homework. You were more or less the weird aunt they saw every once in a while, and that worked for you.

The girls were asleep, but you’d been unable to sleep yourself. So you got up, figuring you’d have a little snack or some water and wander a bit.

Except wandering may not have been the best idea.

Low voices from a sitting room had you on alert, and you moved as quietly as you knew how, creeping closer.

“...perfect bait for them,” someone was saying in Russian. Not Sergio. You didn’t recognize this voice, actually.

“Why do you want to capture one of them?” That was Sergio, sounding vaguely disgusted. “More of a risk this way, no?”

“You are short-sighted,” the first speaker said. Well, he was definitely above Sergio, then. “Capturing an operative will give us an edge.”

There was a beat of silence. “Still sounds risky,” Sergio grumbled. “But it is your will, so we will see it done. When will you set the bait?”

“It has been set already,” the leader said, sounding smug. “I let information leak about the gas storage, so the Americans will know of it by now. We will be ready this time.”

Well. That was fucked.

There were days when the back and forth espionage shit got on your last nerve.

“To a successful hunt, then,” Sergio offered, the gentle clinking of glasses following his words.

You might be able to hear more if you stayed… But you also ran the risk of discovery. And that would end poorly for you.

Bullet in the head kind of poorly.

So you snuck away back up to your room, debating the best way to alert Laswell. Text was risky, but a call would be more risky, especially here. You couldn’t wait until morning, just in case people were already en route. And since you didn’t have a location…

You puffed out a breath, walking into the en suite and shutting the door. There was no easy way to do this, and you didn’t trust Sergio not to have bugs planted in the bathroom. So you hummed to yourself as you typed out a quick text.

Gas a trap for info. Advise abort.

There. That was… not your best work, admittedly, but you were a bit strapped for time. It got your point across.

And, really, if someone managed to get hold of your text records, you had more things to worry about than the wording of a single text.

She replied two minutes later. Copy. Send updates.

You puffed out a breath. She was so lucky you liked her. (And that you were indebted to her still for her help.)

Turning the shower on, you decided maybe a bit of hot water would help you relax enough to get to sleep.

You were very glad you had the girls as an excuse to be out of the house for the fallout of the failed mission. Sergio didn’t tell you anything, but the blooming black eye spoke for him.

You stayed another week, mostly because the girls pleaded with you to stay. But a little bit because you were curious and wanted to see if you could hear anything else. When that ended up being futile, you booked a flight to Morocco.

Because why not.

The plan was to touch base with someone you knew who had fingers in shipping pies. (Seriously, the woman was an absolute master. She could get anything anywhere in the world, for the right price.) And, of course, to eat some delicious food, and check on the hideaway you kept there. You had several across the globe, but it had been a while since you’d been to this one. You probably needed to change out some of the non-perishables.

It was supposed to be a low-key, quiet trip. Relaxing. The only adventure you wanted was wandering through the city.

It was not a low-key, quiet trip.

Three days in, you’d restocked your hideaway, contacted your shipping master friend, and found a new place with some of the best food you’d ever had. It was shaping up to be a good trip.

And then a man dropped down in front of you, woozy, dark skin glistening with sweat. The tactical vest was a dead giveaway, but the flag was a surprise.

You very purposely did not look for a name. But you did do a quick sweep of the rest of him.

Blood seeped out from under the vest, staining his shirt, and you swore softly.

“You need help.”

“I’m fine.” But the words were a little sluggish, one hand pressing over the wound at his hip.

“You need help,” you reiterated, glancing around, suddenly wary. You did not want to be caught in the crossfire of this, and the longer you stayed out in the open, the more likely that became. “Please. I’ve got bandages back at my place.”

His gaze held yours, suddenly hard, calculating. “I’ve got people on the way,” he said, clearly testing.

“Good, then they can pick you up.” You ducked under one of his arms, your own looping across his back. “Come on, in we go. Before whoever shot you finds us both.”

He gave in, letting you walk him down half a block and inside. He didn’t even complain going up the stairs to your hideaway, though you could see the way his jaw clenched.

“This one’s mine,” you told him, pulling your keys out of your pocket when you reached the appropriate floor. It took a moment to get the door unlocked and maneuver him inside without letting go - he was slowly leaning more on you for support. You kicked the door shut after the two of you and more or less carefully deposited him in a chair. He groaned softly, like he didn’t even mean to, and you winced in sympathy.

Fortunately, all your hideaways had first aid kits stocked, and you thumped it onto the table in front of him.

“I’ll help if you want,” you offered, taking a step back and putting your hands up, away from your body. “But you are very well armed and I am not.”

“S’alright,” he muttered, accent effortlessly charming even as he popped open the first aid kit. “I’ve got it.” His gaze lifted to yours, a little less wary and a little more curious. “What’s your name?”

You tutted at him, amused despite yourself. “Does it matter? You need to get patched up and wait until your buddies come get you.” You put two sealed water bottles onto the table for him, already kind of mourning your decision. Dammit, you shouldn’t have brought him here.

“Thank you.” He tugged his shirt up and out of the way to press gauze to the still-bleeding gash.

“Don’t thank me yet,” you muttered, more to yourself than him. You stepped past him into your bedroom, taking a quick look around. Only a few things of sentimental value resided here, and you were quick to throw those and a change of clothes into a duffel bag.

You had to burn this hideaway now. Not literally, but you’d never be able to come back here again.

At least nothing here would give them more information on you.

You set the duffel bag on the floor by the door, ignoring his gaze. You let yourself look around one last time. You really liked this place. Damn.

“Where are you going?” His voice was calm, just a hint of urgency there.

“Nowhere yet, I suspect,” you said on a sigh, turning to look. He didn’t actually have a weapon in hand, which rather surprised you. “Just getting ready to go once your friends arrive.”

His eyes narrowed, suspicion growing. Your smile was crooked and understanding.

“Just because I helped you doesn’t mean I want that kind of attention,” you said, hands carefully palms-out at your sides again. “Nothing personal.”

He didn’t seem quite sure what to make of you, shoulders tense, fingers twitching. Then he blinked once and lifted his free hand to the radio on his vest. “Injured, currently patching up. Indoors, one unknown.”

Ah. You were likely the unknown. Well. Fair, honestly. You were acting pretty suspicious for anyone who didn’t know you.

“Solid copy.” His hand left his radio, but his gaze stayed fixed on you. “They’ll be here in a few minutes.”

“And I suppose I’m to wait here until they arrive?” You puffed out a breath. “Alright, sure.” You had contingencies, if you needed them. If you really needed to, you could call Laswell. But you hoped you didn’t have to.

The wait was silent and felt like it dragged on forever, although in reality it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes. Two heavy knocks pulled you from your spot, and you opened the door.

And then blinked.

“Captain?”

His expression immediately settled into a scowl. “Ace.”

“Huh.” You stepped back to let him in. “I take it this one’s yours, then?” You nodded back at the wounded man behind you.

“Yes.” He stepped past you, momentarily dismissing you to kneel by the injured man. You could hear them speaking quietly, going over the situation. But Captain’s voice had softened a little, care clear in the way he checked his man. He did have a heart after all.

That would be your cue to leave.

You picked up your duffel bag and managed to take one step before a quiet, “Sir,” cut you off.

“Where are you going?”

Captain was glaring at you now, tense, wary. Probably thinking the worst of you. Again.

“I have to abandon this place now anyway,” you pointed out reasonably. “You might as well enjoy it, get properly patched up before you go.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Is it not enough to know that I’m leaving?”

“No.” He stood, prowling over to you, using his height to loom over you.

You debated with yourself, head tilting to one side, looking up at him. You could probably make it if you distracted him with something and ran. Then again, you might not, and you were not in the mood today to be thrown around.

“I am planning on getting the hell out before whatever chaos you’re involved in explodes.” You kept your tone dry, chin tipping in challenge.

His lips thinned. “No.”

“You’re not my boss,” you said quietly, stepping into him, refusing to back down. “And you can’t keep me here, not without all kinds of trouble. I’ll be on my way to another country, and you can bug out as soon as you want.”

He was going to keep arguing with you, you could see it in the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands were ready to grab you. But something distracted the both of them, Captain turning to the injured man.

You didn’t wait. You booked it, hauling ass out of the apartment and down the stairs. You heard the yell behind you, but you didn’t acknowledge it, focused on getting out.

And once you were outside, it was easy to find crowds and blend in, easy to get to the airport and buy a ticket to Cairo. From there, you weren’t sure, but you did know one thing.

Captain was showing up too often in your life. He was becoming a distraction. And that? That could be a problem.

#waking lions #john price x reader #john price x you #f!reader

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yuzukult · 2 years

Text

yours, but not yours 04 || csc & reader

title: yours, but not yours 04 pairing: choi seungcheol x fem!reader/oc genre: angst, fluff, smut, fake dating!au, bad influence!seungcheol, nice guy syndrome!namjoon, mechanic!seungcheol wc: 7.1k summary: when a nice guy gets too overbearing, you’re stuck with the option of having a fake boyfriend. warnings: profanity (as usual), mentions of death a/n: hi im back :D

He hasn’t said a single word.

Not.

Single.

Word.

It causes you to grow anxious; shivers run up your spine as you watch him outside of your, well, his garage. Frankly, you’ve never watered your plants before—if any of these are plants, some of them don’t resemble anything you could name off the top of your head. You briefly recalled Chaeryong nagging about how you somehow manage to treat the weeds better than the actual greenery you have, but in your defense, it was a bit hard to differentiate them! With a sigh, you turn the knob to shut off the water and toss the hose aside after filling up the watering pot. Just like Seungcheol in your thoughts, it overflows just barely, spilling from the sides.

That night didn’t really go as you’d hope it would.

Seungcheol—of course, it pretty much goes without saying—slept beside you without much of a counter argument. He didn’t say much, he didn’t probe, he didn’t pry, and what felt worse was that he never asked for an apology. Instead, he slept quietly on his side of the bed, the soft snores pouring into the cool, summer night, leaving you lying flat with your eyes open, gaze tracing the tiles of ceiling above. He continues to say he isn’t mad at you, but the vibe you got from him that night states otherwise.

Breakfast the next morning is rowdy with your friends, and despite all the events, Seungcheol remains doing a good job of being your boyfriend by sitting next to you at the table, dousing syrup on your pancakes, and calmly wiping the table when you knock over your glass of water. Of course. Seungcheol puts on a good show as always. Your friends don’t suspect a fake relationship; all they see is a sweet loving boyfriend who’d do anything for you.

“You two are cute,” Chaeryong nudged you as you were dabbing your shirt and Seungcheol was already shuffling through your bag for a clean one. “Treat him well, and keep him around. I’m beginning to be Team Cheol instead of Joonie,” she winked playfully. Everything was falling into place—people were slowly opening up to the idea of you being more with someone who wasn’t Namjoon, even though it required a fake relationship to get there. The plan is working–but why do you hate it?

When you arrive back home from that eventful weekend, Seungcheol still doesn’t bug you as usual. He doesn’t smirk, nor does he lean on one of the cars he’s been working on, rag on his shoulder with a soft chuckle and the words, “Headin’ out, love?” don’t escape from him. The six times you’ve passed the garage, no smart comment peeps out of him.

You roll your lips. Why hasn’t he said anything?

The clang of his wrench against the concrete rings your ears, startling you in the midst of the stillness. Why didn’t he come out when he heard your footsteps coming down the stairs? Why hasn’t he gone out of his way to sneak in a sleazy pickup line with those alluring eyes of his?

Puffing your cheeks, you skim the area nervously. There’s this weird tightness in your lower stomach, a mixture of compression and whirling, and the longer you continue to deny that his avoidance is affecting you, the worse the symptoms get. Maybe you should… make the first move. You upset him, and if anything, the only person who should be apologizing is you. But… it’s Seungcheol. He’d never make you do something you don’t want to. Even if the right thing to do is to apologize.

Inhaling in a deep breath, you drop your little plastic watering can (the one you used to bathe your weeds in), clenched fists by your side as your chest juts out barely to showcase your confidence (there isn’t a lot of it).

Okay. One step. Two steps. Three steps—why the fuck are you taking so long? But each time you try to quicken your pace, it increases along with the beats in your chest. Your palms grow clammy in unison to the heat rising to your cheeks, stomach queasy because you’re finally going to confront Seungcheol and yet you aren’t sure what to say or do. Do you say sorry? Do you… talk to him about his feelings? What are you supposed to do?

Just a couple more steps.

Taking in another breath, you squeeze your eyes shut briefly. Whatever happens next might determine whatever it is you have with Seungcheol—do you want more? Or are you just concerned about his perception of you?

“Seungcheol—”

“Honey!”

Seungcheol slides out from underneath the car the same time you turn your head to the familiar voice.

God.

Fuck.

Why now!

Your mom stands there—with her little curls and a wide grin, bags of food at her side as she gently puts it down onto the asphalt. Waving eagerly, she’s already rushing to you with her arms wrapping around your frame, smacking a huge smooch on your face.

“M-Mom?”

Her hands cup your cheeks, frowning along with your pursed lips. “Jesus, hon. You’ve gotten so thin—have you eaten? Actually, don’t answer that, I’ve bought some stuff to whip up for you. Have you been ordering out? Also, I saw the weeds in your garden—”

“Mom!”you exclaim, and before you could stomp your feet, you could hear Seungcheol chuckle softly from behind.

Both of you divert your attention to Seungcheol.

He looks… charming like this. You haven’t seen his face like this in a couple days after that incident, and just the sight of his smile is enough to swell your heart again. He wipes his hands onto the back of his overalls with a grease stained cloth over his shoulder, and he attempts to fix his disheveled hair as he walks closer.

“Hi, um, I’m Seungcheol.”

Your mom glances at you before looking back at Seungcheol. “Oh, wow, you’re handsome. I’m the mom—of course. Are you two—”

“Yes—”

“No—”

You and Seungcheol lock eyes.

Did… Did you just tell your mom ‘yes’?

“I—” Seungcheol laughs, rubbing his nape shyly; how is it that his laugh is fucking sweet? He makes you feel like you’re drowning in honey—wait no, no. He’s not yours to fall for, and the reality is that you two don’t work well together. You’ve already established that. So why are you suddenly not okay with that? Scratch it. You need these thoughts out. “Sorry. I didn’t think she was ready to tell you yet but uh, yeah. We’re together.”

You didn’t think you were ready.

But… together. Why does that sound so… comforting?

Something within you takes over because in that moment, you don’t even realize what you’re saying. You’re the one who told your mom that you’re together, not Seungcheol. Either way, Seungcheol plays in with the lie, yet another lie—one you aren’t so proud of—but at the same time… you sort of want to see how this plays out. Is Seungcheol a good enough fit for you in your mom’s eyes?

Speaking of your mom, she doesn’t forget to whack you a couple times as you cower in fear. “A-Ah! Ow! Mom! What’s that for?”

She grabs onto the top of your ear. “You didn’t tell me you had a boyfriend!” Your mom turns to smile at Seungcheol adoringly while still pinching your ear. “Come upstairs, will you? I’ll be making dinner for you both. Do you handle spicy food well?”

Seungcheol grins in amusement. “Yeah, I do. Lemme clean up a bit and I’ll see you two upstairs.”

“Ouch!”

“He’s handsome and nice, what’s wrong with you!”

Truthfully, you could list a handful of things, but when your mom flicks the side of your head again, all you could let out was a whimper.

“I didn’t know how to tell you!” Not entirely a facade—how do you explain to your mom that you’re fake dating a guy that you might want to really date? Or do you not? You’re still trying to figure that out but that’s besides the point. Rubbing your ear with a pout, you step back from your mom. “Plus, you barely met him for like three seconds. How do you know if he’s nice?”

“Because,” she says, returning to the pot of stew, stirring it with a wooden spoon she found in your kitchen. “Do you see that?”

You furrow your brows. “See what?”

She points out to the window above your sink; shifting the sheer curtains to the side, you spot Seungcheol standing in the driveway—hair pushed back into a half pony because it wasn’t long enough, hands clean from the oil, and clearing his throat as if he’s practicing something.

“He said he went to clean up but instead he ran down to the market a block away to grab me flowers.”

“Oh.” Oh is right. Was he always this sweet?

He’s at your front door in moments, a bouquet of flowers in hand with a twinkle in his eyes. “I got your mom flowers.”

You’re rolling your lips, forcing yourself not to give away a smile too easily. “What about me?” you ask, taking the daisies from his hands.

“You said you didn’t like flowers,” he retorts blankly, lost with the joke going over his head. “I did get you a weed killer though. Why were you watering them earlier?”

… So, he noticed you?

Even when he’s clearly upset with you, he notices you. He doesn’t forget you, and you’re not wiped from his mind conveniently, especially when he harbors these feelings for you. He’s unconventional in how he expresses his emotions—what kind of guy gets a girl they like a fucking weed killer instead of flowers? But the simple act alone gave away more than you could ever ask for and it leaves you wondering what it’ll be like to actually be his.

“… They’re pretty.” Just like Cheol.

“Mm, kinda cute you find something pretty that everyone sees as a burden,” he then gestures to your house behind you. “So, you gonna let me in or you gonna let me stand out here and eat outside your house like a bum?”

Cheol sitting at the stable with good posture and manners is definitely a view you didn’t think you’d ever see.

He’s polite; says his please and thank yous, offers to make some tea for your mom in your own home, and when she serves dinner, he’s overflowing with compliments. Everything she puts in front of him—he eats. Seungcheol doesn’t complain, in fact, he looks… happy. Eager to be here, almost like it wasn’t something he was dragged into, instead, as if he wants to be here.

After dinner, he’s at the sink as your mom hands over the dirty dishes. Rather than the grease and oil marks that tinges the color of his hands, they’re now bubbly, lavender scented from the dish soap you purchased on sale from the supermarket nearby. He tells her things about his life that you never knew about—his mom sells clothes for a living and his dad owns a business. Seungcheol doesn’t go into the details, but just that alone made you realize something.

You don’t really know Seungcheol.

And truthfully, you never really have him a chance to talk about himself.

He always made things about you… you, you, you. Everything was about your comfort, what you wanted, and how you wished to be seen with him. If you were to throw random questions about yourself in his way, he’d be able to answer in a heartbeat. No hesitation.

But you? You can’t say you know anything about him other than he likes fixing up cars, likes you, and was known to be a fuckboy.

“Would you like some leftovers?” Your mom queries, scooping out the remnants of the stew into some glass containers. “A growing boy like you needs to eat.”

He chuckles; voice so ginger and delicate, almost like he’s more careful because he’s around her. “No, it’s all good. There’s always food at home for me.”

She clicks her tongue, insisting on him a couple more times, but Seungcheol is adamant about not bringing any with him, and eventually she concedes. The two of you walk her out by the time the sun begins to set, watching as she hops into the car with your dad who just came out of work. (Not to mention that menacing stare he gives Cheol before loosening his expression to his usually happy one, hollering something along the lines of, “let’s meet again soon, son-in-law!” You're beginning to think this was a mistake).

Once your parents’ car drifts with the sunset, so does Seungcheol. He turns almost immediately, making way back into the garage, ready to resume back to what he’d been doing prior to being called out to play pretend boyfriend.

As he’s grabbing something from that crimson red tool box of his, he’s acting as if he didn’t just win an Oscar for the role of Best Significant Other.

“Seungcheol.”

“Hm?” He responds, brows raised as he halts his movements. There’s no pet name that follows, just a hollow, open ended question without anything to finish it off lovingly.

You sigh; it’s slightly embarrassing for you to cave in like this, his name slipping from your lips, weighing in ambiguity because despite that brief intermission, you’re not entirely sure of what you’re going to say.

“I—” you clear your throat. “I… I’m sorry.”

Intrigued, he stands up straight with his arms across his chest. “You’re… sorry.”

“Um… yeah.”

He nods, lips half pursed before he licks his teeth with a smack. “Alright. Sorry for what?”

You blink blankly. What are you sorry for? That you hurt his feelings? That you were too quick to push aside his opinions and perspectives, that although he respected your boundaries, you didn’t do the same with his?

Well, yeah. Everything. You’re sorry for everything.

“Do you know what you’re sorry for?”

“I—” You do, so why can’t you bring yourself to say it? “Cheol, please. I said I’m sorry, and I really don’t like this awkwardness between us. Can’t we just sweep it under the rug and call it a day?”

He scoffs. “What? Call it a day? I’m not mad at you, we’ve discussed this. I’m just a little bummed out is all. You can’t tell me what you’re sorry for, and it’s making me assume that you don’t know.”

“I do know!”

“Then tell me.”

Silence.

You’re not even certain as to why you decided to leave it off as that or why you chose to remain quiet despite him wanting to know how you feel, but you did it anyway. There’s a part of you that’s a bit fearful; concerned that maybe everything Namjoon says about Seungcheol is true or that all you’ve assumed him to be ends up being exactly just that. How much of his outburst was genuine?

Would he love you better than the others did? And did he really develop those feelings for you? And if he did, this question continues to gnaw on your insides because well–why… you? What did you have to offer that those other girls he’d been with in the past didn’t?

But before you could swallow your pride and push your anxiousness aside, he’s already shutting the door of the garage. Slipping his arms into his biker jacket, he then adjusts the straps of his leather gloves and pops on his helmet. It wasn’t like he was in a rush or anything, but with all that extra time you had while he was gearing up, you could’ve said something… anything, really, but you don’t. You find yourself standing there, looking like a complete idiot because Seungcheol is nothing but patient for you, and yet you can’t offer anything in return.

“I’m headin’ out, mkay?” He looks balked, torn even, because you don’t respond with a single word. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

And you don’t say goodbye in return.

Watching him leave, you’re slowly hating yourself. Why did watching him ride off in his motorcycle hurt?

You hate to admit it, but Seungcheol is plaguing your mind. He’s like a disease you can’t find a cure for, and the treatment you’re trying to give yourself only seems to worsen the symptoms. You already apologized and he said he wasn’t upset—so why do you still feel like shit and why does everything you do remind you of him?

There’s no engine roaring from a Harley at 5:48am.

Your alarm is set to 6:00am, early enough for you to start your morning routine: brew coffee, shower, have a cup of joe while doing makeup, a brekkie snack, and get dressed for the day. But ever since Seungcheol came into your life, you’ve added an extra step before it all—groggily hop out of bed at 5:50am because you could hear his motorcycle rolling into the driveway. You’d peek out the window with tired eyes that barely peel open, finding yourself watching a man who stands on the asphalt with a cheeky smile that spreads across his face with a wave.

Today wasn’t one of those days.

In fact, when Seungcheol is running late, he catches you at the tail end of your routine, never failing to greet you with that look on his face. But oddly enough, even when you’re pulling out of your driveway, he’s not here.

A part of you grows worried. He’s never been like this before–and maybe, just maybe, you deserved this. What if Seungcheol decided that he didn’t want to rent a garage from someone who continues to lead him on, and that he wanted to call it quits? Or worse, what if something bad happened to him?

You should shoot him a text. Yeah, a text. Harmless, right? After all, he said he wasn’t mad.

You [9:45AM]: are you still coming today?

Locking your phone with a click, you set it aside and inhale deeply. Seungcheol always replies to your texts, so it shouldn’t be too long before he responds back yet… right?

Spoiler: he doesn’t reply.

This is eating you up inside. When you get home, you check your phone constantly, every minute interval involves you pressing on the home screen and seeing nothing. There were a couple times you found yourself nearly jumping at the sight of the screen lighting up, only to be disappointed that it’s not his name on the contact.

As you’re boiling the water for your ramen, your eyes stray away momentarily to check outside. His bike isn’t there, and neither is he. Why do you keep glancing out the window this often? You’re on edge, leg shaking underneath the table along with your fingers tapping against the wood as you're slurping your noodles, and hopelessly sliding down the notifications bar to see if he’s responded back to you.

Maybe you’ll look at his social media. Yeah, normal people do that, right?

Only that he hasn’t been active. No new stories, no new posts—nothing. Nada.

Okay, well, maybe it’s best to keep yourself distracted! How about celebrity news? Love Island was on last night, so maybe you’ll skim through the twitter hashtags to see what people are saying. Trash TV is always a good diversion, so it may get him off your mind, even if it’s just for a little bit.

You get bored quickly—only because you keep thinking about Seungcheol. It’s been barely three minutes.

How about the news? That has a lot of interesting content—surely, it’ll be attention grabbing and you’ll forget that Seungcheol hasn’t responded to your text in like fourteen hours.

The first article that comes up on the local news website has your heart racing and dropping to your ass in seconds. It reads: DEADLY MOTORCYCLE CRASH KILLS FOUR PEOPLE.

F-Four?

Panic washes over like a tsunami. Seungcheol rides a motorcycle. Wait—let’s not overthink. That’s one of the flaws you have, and one of the things you planned to work on. Clicking on the article, you barely even have time to skim through when the fucking advertisement blocks the way. Tap tap tap, what the fuck do you mean 1 of 2 ads viewing and each is 30 seconds long? The love of your life could be fucking dead and you don’t even know about it—hold up.

Not the love of your life, he’s just a guy who rents the garage underneath your house. Slept with him a couple times, yeah, but that doesn’t mean you can’t be concerned about him.

Right.

Right?

Fuck, skip, bitch. The first advertisement about pull-ups finally ends but another one pops up except this time it’s Hello Fresh? You thought that this whole thing with websites selling your personal data meant that it’ll send you ads that are more targeted to your preferences? What is this?

When it closes, you’re faster than the speed of light to read the article. Four people… dead… and one of them was a male that rode a Harley.

Seungcheol rides a Harley.

He rides a Harley! And you haven’t seen that eyesore all day. He hasn’t responded to your texts or even looked at the chat, and you know because he mentioned once that he didn’t know how to turn off the read recipient. Jaw tightening, you drop your phone and quickly snatch the hoodie off your coat hook. Maybe you should run to the hospital—the article mentions where the victims have been transported to, so maybe Seungcheol is there.

Oh, god, what if Seungcheol was there? What if he’s… dead? And you never even got a chance to tell him how sorry you are and why, how much you appreciate him, and… how much you liked him. Was this the end before the beginning?

You’re not even thinking twice. The only thing you grab is your keys, phone, and wallet; house slippers still on with your tiger print pajama bottoms, shirt that matches, and slippers as tears are streaming down your cheeks as you shuffle down the concrete stairs mounted to the side of your house.

Seungcheol, Seungcheol, Seungcheol. If he’s gone, then the last thing you two exchanged was an argument. He continues to chase you, tell you how much he likes you, and in the end, you remain completely indifferent about his advances when in reality… you reciprocate his feelings. You’re scared, as much as you don’t like to concede to the realities of your vulnerabilities, but you’re afraid of getting heartbroken by Choi Seungcheol. Even so, now… there’s a chance that you won’t even get the opportunity to feel what it’s like to let him love you.

You’re sobbing. Wiping the tears that formulate in your eyes with the sleeves of your hoodie, the snot that flows from your nose is uncontrollable. It’s hard to breathe; you’re at the point of hyperventilating as you’re struggling to open your car door. Is Seungcheol really gone? Did you lose the last time to tell him how sorry you were for not respecting him and his feelings? Why does it feel like someone grabbed your heart from your chest cavity, tore it out and stomped on it?

Suddenly, a car stops at the front of your house.

Now isn’t the time! They need to get the fuck out so you can get the fuck out of here and see that stupid boy one more time.

That is, until you see that very stupid boy step out of the black Cadillac. It heads off into the distance, but Seungcheol stands at the end of your driveway, half unbuttoned white shirt, his blazer over his shoulder, and tie loose around his neck. Hair disheveled, he looks… tired.

Tired.

But not dead.

He spots you and his body straightens at the sight of you weeping. “Baby, are you… crying?”

You run. Dropping everything on the ground, you immediately rush to him. He stumbles back a bit on the impact, arms out in confusion, but he lets you embrace him. Face nuzzled into his chest, your hands clench onto the fabric of his dress shirt as you begin to sob quietly, full of gratefulness that it wasn’t him involved in the crash.

“Baby,” he reiterates the pet name, the one you used to despise in juxtaposition to the love you have for it when you finally hear it again after withdrawals. He reaches over to pull you closer, his nose digging into your hair before he pecks the crown of your head. “What’s wrong?”

It’s not the same without him, you’re beginning to realize, because hearing his voice in this way and not in short, blunt responses is something you’ve grown accustomed to and learned to adore.

When your heart slows down and your breathing evens, you lift your chin up to get a better look of his face.

Gaze soft, it’s warm like hot coffee or tea on a cold day. The two of you haven’t moved off the driveway, standing where you bolted to him. He’s so patient, so loving, and so kind, leaving you contemplating as to why you listened to Namjoon and those rumors in the first place. He’s a different person now, he even claims himself to be, but you’ve continued to be apathetic about his feelings.

If he’s different now, you can be, too.

“I thought you were dead,” you say, mid-gasp as another tear falls out the corner of your eyes. He sighs worriedly, thumbs brushing against the highs of your cheeks before cupping your jaw. “I-I thought I lost you.”

“I’m not dead, love. Where did you hear that?”

Patting down your pockets, you freeze when you realize your phone is on the ground by your car. Sniffling, you’re almost on the brink of crying again. “I saw on the action news website—there was a Harley, two other cars, four dead—”

“Mm,” he hums, hand on the back of your head to bring you closer to him again. “Got it. We didn’t talk the whole day, you saw there was a Harley—”

“You didn’t answer my text, you ass!” you exclaim, fist slamming into his firm chest. He doesn’t flinch though, not that you expect him to, but after a couple hits, he grabs onto your hand. “You didn’t respond, and because of that, you led me down a spiral.”

Gingerly, he kisses your knuckles and rubs them soothingly as if you weren’t the one who hit him. “I’m sorry. My phone died. I didn’t get a chance to charge it with how hectic today was. I didn’t think I’d worry you.”

With another soft sniffle, you rest your head comfortingly against him. “What… What were you doing today?”

He lets out a heavy breath, almost like he’s been holding it back all day. “I… I’ve been at home. My mom hosted a gala, and well, she wanted her son there—but the son she expects me to be.”

You furrow your brows. “A gala?”

Seungcheol clears his throat and his body vibrates against yours. “Um, yeah. We hosted a gala at my house.”

You lift your head. “Your house… is big enough to host a gala?”

He scratches his ear with an awkward chuckle. “I—Yeah. It—It is. I… I don’t really wanna talk about it.”

Stepping back from him, that’s when your fists tighten by your side, and you inhale in the deepest breath of your anxiety and release it from your body. He almost died today—well, not really—and you have come to terms that you can’t continue to do this because life is too short.

“I need to talk to you,” your voice is stern, expression stiff, and Seungcheol crosses his arms in perplexity. Weren’t you just crying on him not long ago? His shirt is still wet with the mixture of both your drool, tears, and snot, so why are you so quick on your feet to be serious all of the sudden?

“Yes?”

“I… wanna date. Officially. No more of the fake dating stuff—I’ll tear up the contract if I have to. I wanna be your girlfriend—learn things about you like your parents and your home life, what you like and what you don’t like. I wanna be yours.”

Seungcheol remains quiet for a moment. Tongue poking the inside of his cheek, he doesn’t say much for a while. “I… I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

What?

Truthfully, you expected him to be through the roof. He’s been so persistent in trying to make you his, but why is it that when you determine that this is what you want, he doesn’t?

“I… I’m sorry, I’m confused. Do you… Do you not like me anymore?”

He rolls his lips. “I… I meant what I said before. This,” he gestures between the two of you. “… is a test run. Not just for you, but for me, too. After that trip, I realized how much I liked you, that it was blinding me from my respect for myself. I like you—fuck, I really do, but I don’t know if I can be with someone who doesn’t… take things I say seriously.”

Heat rushes to your cheeks and tips of your ears. Of course you ruined everything for yourself.

“But um…” he starts off again, bouncing on the tips of his toes. “I don’t wanna end this, and I still wanna give it a shot. So… let’s continue to keep a front for your friends. I’m also still concerned for you in terms of Namjoon, since it seems that even when you clearly state you got a boyfriend, he still won’t back off.”

You purse your lips. Right, Namjoon. That’s how this whole thing started. Part of you wants to thank Namjoon; the reason why you two started this whole shenanigan was because of his nice guy syndrome—yet at the same time, you blame him for being that voice inside your head that makes you doubt Seungcheol.

“So… you don’t wanna date.”

“No, I do wanna date, I just… don’t know if I can if it means you’re not in it for me but because of this guilt in you when you found out that I might be dead.”

You don’t know what comes over you but you’re bold today. “I’ll chase you this time.”

Intrigued, Seungcheol quirks a brow. “You’ll chase me? Baby, you don’t needa do that.”

“I don’t need to, I… I want to,” you confess, fidgeting with your fingers. Why does he make you so nervous? Your palms are perspiring, causing you to wipe the moisture off onto the fronts of your pjs while tapping your foot against the asphalt. “I want to prove to you that I’m all in for this. I wanna chase you, and show you that I want this.”

He smiles softly but you can sense the pain behind the facade. “If you were in this, it would come naturally.”

Before you can squeeze in another word, he grabs you close again before benevolently pecking your forehead. “Don’t… don’t force yourself to try to love me. It should come easy, and it shouldn’t feel like such a burden. At least, that’s how it feels for me,” his eyes don't meet yours when he says that, and it leaves you queasy. Did you take too long to realize what you’ve always been wanting? “Anyways—I’m… Imma head into the garage. Kinda tired, just wanna sleep.”

As he makes his way to the garage, this time, you don’t let yourself hover in silence anymore. You already did it once, and you were contrite with the actions you didn’t take. “You… you can shower at my place if you want. Sleep on my couch. It’s cold tonight, I don’t think you wanna sleep down here.”

He stops in the midst of his steps. You’re ready for a no, mostly because even though he’s never turned you down other than just now, you think he still wants to keep his distance.

But Seungcheol is a simple guy who is hopelessly head over heels for you.

So it’s no surprise when he takes up on your offer.

Usually, the invitation up to an apartment with ramen included in the proposal insinuates sex. But for you and Seungcheol, it doesn’t mean that.

He sits across from you at the dining table, hair slightly drenched with a towel around his shoulders as he rustles it against the ebony strands that drip. There’s something about Seungcheol after he showers—was it the freshness of the body shampoo scent that wafts the room when he walks in? Or was it the way he seemed more… homey. Like he wasn’t just some guy who hit on you whenever he got the chance, or some fuckboy with a smirk on his face, hanging by his motorcycle with a cigarette hanging at the corner of his lips. He reminds you of comfort.

Like home.

He wears the spare clothes he keeps downstairs, a hoodie and a pair of sweatpants, disparate from the leather jacket he slips on for drives or Carharrt overalls for when he’s working on his car. In a moment like this, when he’s just casually twirling his ramen around his chopsticks with a piece of radish kimchi in between, he’s an epitome of domesticity.

You don’t exchange many words, other than a soft ‘thank you’ that comes after him handing you a pair of chopsticks.Did you really hurt the Choi Seungcheol’s feelings? The guy who everyone seems to portray as someone without any regard for others, just getting his dick wet and drinking his nights away?

Saying another apology won’t solve anything, you’re starting to see that clearly now. Seungcheol is a man of action—which means if you want to prove anything to him, you need to climb out of that shell of yours to show that what you said wasn’t just something in a moment of panic.

You… like Seungcheol.

Maybe it’s his persistence or the amount of respect he has for you, but he hasn’t shown you any reason as to why you shouldn’t pursue him. With Namjoon, it came without effort to list all the things about him that only pushed him away from you. But Cheol… it’s harder to whip up something like that for him.

You don’t hate the way he displays his affection for you. Although you’ve always been indifferent, constantly brushing it off your shoulder, he’s never gone past the boundaries of what you’re okay with. He even goes as far as asking, “You sure you want this?” before doing anything—sexual or nonsexual.

You’re in this. You know you are, and it might’ve taken some time trying to break the barrier of Namjoon and Yubin’s opinions, the people who you valued the words from so much, but that moment where you jumped to the conclusion that Cheol died—without it, it wouldn’t have led you to be bold enough to take a step in this direction.

“How’s… the ramen?”

“Good,” he answers. Glancing up at you, he grabs a couple of the cubed radish and places it into your bowl. “Eat this with the noodles. It tastes even better.”

Seungcheol demonstrates by picking up one for his own, lifting it up to showcase it before twirling it into his plastic container to pick up the noodles. Giddily, he takes a bite with a crisp, loud crunch before gesturing to you to do the same. Without hesitation, you do what he suggests.

This… is it.

It’s not the tangy flavor from the kkakdugi that awakens you, nor is it the gochujang drenching the diced pieces either–it’s this moment right here, the one that’s making you warm inside the pit of your stomach and the broth of the ramen isn’t the cause of it. To everyone, home is a different definition. Words could describe what it feels like, but to you, it’s the how.

How your chest tightens when he looks up at you with an innocuous stare, like he’ll never hurt you and you’re the only one he sees. When he tears off a napkin from the roll, leaning over to wipe the splatter off the corner of your mouth, he manages to be the reason for your heart to stutter in its beats. Why didn’t you realize these feelings you’d been harboring? Why’d you let someone influence you when you didn’t care for their opinions anyway?

You like Seungcheol. Of course you do—he’s the guy that causes your blood to boil while at the same time cooling you down. He challenges you in ways that will help you grow and improve, for you to make your own decisions on what’s better for you, and it’s not him dictating that.

Seungcheol is good in spite of his past, but people are allowed to change. You weren’t letting him, and you didn’t even get him a chance to show himself even when he’s been doing it all along.

You want to do this. You want to do this, not Namjoon wanting you to, not Yubin wanting you to.

Chewing down on your bottom lip, you’ve never been… anxious around Seungcheol like this. He’s different to you now; underneath the shitty florescent lights in your kitchen, or even in that one creepy closet with the flightering bulb that he keeps reminding you to change (then offers to do it himself), he looks… angelic and soft, in contrast to his devilish charms.

Does he really mean it when he says he still likes you? Even though you’ve hurt him—you, the one who was afraid of him doing the very thing you did?

The question is practically answered when he kisses the crown of your head before grabbing your bowl before putting it in the sink with his.

His back facing you, you can’t help but admire his features. His bushy hair, floppy ears that peek between his dark locks, his plump, pomegranate stained lips and how he wears the left sweatpants leg higher than the other. “Helps with ventilation,” he says, and it only triggers you to roll your eyes but smile nonetheless.

If you succumb to your temptations right now, your arms would be wrapped around him from behind, face nuzzled into the fabric of his hoodie and inhaling in his natural scent. Maybe he’d even turn around, share that sweet, sweet smile of his before leaning in and—

Instead, you’re startled from your daydream because someone decided to slam their fist against your front door. Seungcheol doesn’t look over at you because your arms are hugging his frame, he does it because who the fuck would be knocking on your door like that at this hour?

“Were you expecting a guest?” He asks, brows furrowed.

You purse your lips. “No,” and usually, your friends would give you a heads up before coming over. “I can go check.”

As you’re standing up from your seat, both your bodies freeze when you hear a whiny voice from behind the door. It calls your name—well, cries—and it’s a familiar sound that you wished you didn’t hear, because she’s ruining the night you finally get to be alone with Seungcheol without the fake boyfriend label and she’s the person who didn’t want you to be with him in the first place.

“It’s Yubin,” she wails, sniffling outside your home. “I had to climb up the stairs just to talk to you.”

“Mm, coming,” you call out before gesturing to Seungcheol to go to your room. In confusion, he angles himself to look at you with confusion written on his face. “Go, go,” you hiss in a whisper. “I don’t want her to know you’re here.”

He wants to ask why, but Seungcheol doesn’t and rushes to your room anyways with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and soapy hands. Again, Choi Seungcheol never fails to do what you want—other than be your boyfriend—but now isn’t the time to dig into that.

While swinging the door open, Yubin nearly tumbles in. She’s got only one side of her heels on, the other loose in her grip, hair disheveled and lipstick smeared to her cheek. Even with her singing a greeting from a distance, you get a whiff of the whiskey that saturates her breath.

“Jesus,” you’re covering your nose with the back of your hand. “What the fuck happened? I needa call you an Uber or something—you can’t stay here like this, Namjoon might be worried about you.” You’re only really throwing her out because Seungcheol is hiding in your bedroom—and she’s your best friend. Sort of. Admittingly, the more you see her in a less-than-preferable state, the easier it has been letting her go.

Plopping on the couch, she whimpers like a lost puppy. “I need to talk to you,” she reiterates herself, body curved forward like a semi-circle. “It’s important.”

“Mm, I’m sure it is,” you reply, but your eyes are glued to your phone. UberX? UberXL? Actually, maybe you should do this on her account in case she throws up in someone’s car and they leave a bad review. You still need five stars, after all, in case you want to go out drinking without your car. “Talk now, then. I’ll try to catch you a ride.”

Just then, her hand aggressively wraps around your wrist. Perplexed, you’re finally looking at her—glossy eyes with mascara that smears underneath, most of her makeup has faded away from a long day but she still looks like the same old Yubin.

“No,” she gulps, this time with her bottom lip jutted out. “It’s about Seungcheol—it’s important.”

You slowly put your phone down. “Um, okay,” you back away slowly, a couple steps taken to keep your distance. “Shoot then. What’s so important about Seungcheol that you hauled yourself all the way here to tell me?”

She inhales deeply—it’s one of those inebriated ones where it’s choppy yet probably feels as crisp as the brisk cold air on a winter night. “You’re gonna need to sit down for this,” Yubin warns, and although you’re completely dumbfounded by the situation, you do as you’re told anyway and drop yourself on the couch beside her. Her hands grab yours, cupping them on top as her lips pull into a straight line.

“You’re not gonna love to hear this… but… the reason I don’t want you to be with Seungcheol…”—where’s she going with this?—''isn't just because of Namjoon. I mean, yeah, it does, but there’s more to it. You see, to me, Seungcheol isn’t your boyfriend. His label is something else, something more, and you’re not going to love hearing this but… you’re… the other girl.”

The… other girl? Isn’t that the term people use for the person someone cheated on with?

“To me. You’re the other girl to me. I’m in love with Seungcheol, and he’s in love with me, too.”

Hold on. Wait, what?

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#seungcheol smut #seungcheol fanfic #scoups fanfic #svt fanfic #seventeen fanfic #svt smut #seungcheol x reader

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arkiwii · 9 months

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PLEASE DO RAMBLE ABOUT SARIA IM PUSHING THE AUTISM BUTTON.

I’m newer to arknights and I’m a fan of Saria and Silence because I have eyes but I’m more curious to know what things you wish people talked about more wrt Saria and her relationship to the other RL characters? She has so much complexity as a character but she’s often shown so reductively.

Also cool art (prozd tumblr tags noises)

YOU WON'T HAVE TO ASK ME TWICE THEN.

If you're new to Arknights, then I would gladly recommend you the official Rhine Lab manhua! It's basically everything about Rhine Lab past, Silence and Saria's relationship, and Ifrit's origins, so VERY good to know

But anyway, ABOUT SARIA

You're pretty right that her complexity as a character is not often shown, and it makes me sad, the community often thinks of her as just "divorced dad", the joke is alright but it says so little about her and mostly, about why she's like that

Most people might think "poor Silence" or "poor Ifrit", but rarely anyone feels pity for Saria?

She's someone who grew up without a family. I mean, in the emotional sense of the term. She has a dad, a very likely absent mother as she was never mentioned, but never she grew up lile any child should. She was pressured to act like an adult and independently by her dad when she was just a child. And most importantly, grew up with the firm idea that emotions are useless. Crying won't solve anything. It's showing weakness. You shouldn't get attached to things or people, because it will make you suffer.

But now what does it says about Saria, now that she's an adult? That she's very good at being an adult, of course, but when it comes to emotional stuff, she never grew up. She built some shield around her heart, a VERY sturdy shield, that sure protected her and helped her a lot in her growth, but she came to realize that this shield is now disabling her for her emotional relationships. However, herself don't know how to break it.

I simply love all the psychology and symbolism in this. NoriZC (the artist behind Saria, Silence, Ifrit, and a few other Rhine Lab characters) often associated Saria to rocks and Silence to plants. Rocks are hard to break, but yet, plants can still grow on them. The rocks are also associated to her Arts, as she can use Calcification - a very sturdy shield, basically.

But now this is what truly hurts her. That she can't understand emotions. She's slowly learning (seen with how she learnt with Ifrit and to actually care about her), but there's always things that will escape her. Why Silence is so mad at her, she doesn't really know. She believes that she made a mistake, obviously she blames herself for not being able to stop Kristen or Rhine Lab, but does she understands that Silence is scared that she has been abused and britally faced a reality she never thought existed?

And now she doesn't understand her own emotions neither. She never had a family, never learnt to love, and now that she lost what was the closest to a family, she feels like something is missing. Is she fighting because she wants to stop unethical experiments and save lives? Or is she fighting because she wants Ifrit and Silence to be safe? It might be both, but the second option is out of her understanding. It's just feels weird to tell yourself you care about people when you never learny what it felt to care.

And now, she's alone. Silence may have support from Mayer, from Magallan, Kafka, Ptilopsis, the Doctor themselves even. But Saria? Nobody understands her. Nobody can truly see what is under this shell of hers. Her heart can't be reached, even by herself. It almost feels like that she doesn't care.

That's something I've been thinking about a lot recently. Saying that Saria doesn't care is deeply wrong. She just doesn't know how to show that she cares.

Anyway, that's what I think is extremely interesting in her relationship with Silence and Ifrit. That with them, she would be able to break this shield, to show her heart, to learn what she never got taught, to care and to love. But for this to happen, it would need Silence to perceive Saria's heart and understand it.

#it's one am but FUCK IT WE BALL #ghrhghghr #arknights #askiwi

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the-s1lly-corner · 6 months

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ADMIN I GOT A JUICY. JUICY IDEA.

Remember the Slenderman ask. Welp. I want him as a stuffed animal now.

Reader is mostly the same, exept forrr... lets say they have children. And pets. It's up to your interpritation how they got em i trust you.

And lets say they're close. Real close. Like "you weren't home today so i came in and watered your plants" close. Domestic closeness. Talking so much they can sometimes predict what the other will be doing/saying right now.

Reader is very affectionate but obv respects slendy so they just turn to actions and words to show him they care(although it can be a little hard for them to truly know what they're feeling and how to express emotions sometimes).

So, one day Slendys brother(not that one through.) comes for a casual chit-chat. "So how are things with you and reader? Plan to move together any time soon?" "No, why would we do that?" "Oh well i just throught with the nature of your relationship it would ve the next step, naturally.. you've been together for so long!" "..we're not together romantically, if that's what you're implying." "...you're literally raising kids together what do you mean." "....w.wbhjat."

Cue panik. He goes to talk to reader and they're like. Oh shidt. It do be not so just friendly.

Can be just queerplatonic or romantic, both are cute i think:3

Slenderman x slender-being!reader !

genuinely dont know what all to title this post since its so specific so i recommend for anyone reading this who isnt the silly requester to read through the request ueueue rolls around, im gonna get silly!

honestly i dont think slenderman would know much about romance and marriage. like he knows what they are but he doesnt know... everything about it. especially if its in terms of human stuff, with the rings and all that. you know? mostly because he doesnt exactly leave his woods and the number of people/creatures he actually properly interacts with and forms bonds with is very rare and so far, none were romantic...

and yet here he is, tending to your home in his woods that youve made for yourself, while youre away doing god knows what... it would be a shame if the plants in your home dried, or dust started to settle... or worse someone wandering into it when they arent allowed inside... though, thats even assuming they even manage to get that far into the woods given how possess of the area slenderman is

since he doesnt really have a basis to... base your relationship around, it doesnt take until someone else pointing out the dynamic to him. namely, the creatures he calls brothers

are they actually related in admins au? were they just created by zalgo at the same time? do they have the same genetics? honestly admin hasnt decided yet but they still view each other as siblings!

that aside, slenderman would definitely be in some form of denial. him? this man eating monster who mostly lives in solitude? the same one who has never felt the embrace of another person (/j but now that i think about it....)

THAT slenderman?

hell i dont even think its proper denial because he thinks he cant have those feelings.. not i think its denial because this really cant be what it is, right?

this leads to him doing what he does best; silently following someone.. usually in order to spook them out of the woods or to... hunt... but this time, hes simply observing you, trying to figure out if you're in the same boat at him

but you're just so vastly different from him in nature and personality that its hard to pinpoint your thoughts... sure he can read minds; i think most slender beiings can do that; but i dont think they can do it on other slender beings you know

doesnt approach you about it though, so youre going to be the one to ask him what the hell hes doing... again due to limited contact with others hes not the best at expressing his feelings or thoughts outwardly, hell even inwardly its weird for him but thats aside the point

i think im going to leave the ending open on what becomes of your relationship; but i think given how the reader is, they invite him into their home to talk things out with him. are you surprised that he has a possible crush on you? ....only a little since again, this is THE slenderman we're talking about... less that he may have feelings for you, but more so that you just thought he was on the aromantic spectrum

and thats no diss to my fellow aros; honestly i can easily see slenderman being greyromantic or demiromantic :3 ... maybe more so demiromantic, me thinks

rolls around

the ideas are not ideaing i apologize

#creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x you #slenderman x you #slenderman x reader #slenderman imagine #slenderman headcanon #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta imagine

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sgt-morgan · 1 year

Text

Making a home 🖤

Summary: The Mandalorians are rebuilding their home world, and you and Din are an integral part of the efforts. Now it’s time to move your relationship to the next level

Warnings: AFAB and Female identifying reader. Mostly just fluff tho, nothing to crazy here.

A/N: So, this was a labor of love from my obsession with Sci-fi. Mostly the leadership structure and world building came from sources such as Ender’s Game and its subsequent sequels. I love the idea that when it comes to rebuilding something important, like creating a society. Leaders who aren’t afraid to throw themselves into every aspect of the process are the ones most likely to succeed, and I think that Din is the perfect choice for this. He’s seen Mandalorian society at its most vulnerable, and still upheld and believed in its creed, and now he’s the one who gets to put it back together. idk, I just think he’s neat. 🥺

Mando Masterlist

You were laying in the Mandalorian’s bunk next to Grogu. Was it weird that you were sleeping in his bunk? No. You were always in his space. You were in his opinion, an overly affectionate person. When you first started traveling with him, he noticed with your friends, you were constantly hugging, constantly holding hands, constantly fussing with clothing. It was just within your nature. You would fuss at the baby, stroking his petal ears, snuggling him close to you any time the option was available, fussing with his tan robe and making sure it wasn’t too long, resting your forehead against his while he babbled at you, staring into his big brown eyes. It was cute. You were also affectionate with the big scary Beskar covered heathen right from the beginning. You held his hand, arm, pinky, elbow, whatever, with no trace of fear or hesitation. You were constantly attached to him. At first, this made him very uncomfortable,then your relentless need for contact became a necessity. The calm your presence brought, the soft feel of your hand in his, the way you practically glued yourself to his hip when your arms weren’t free. In the days before Din got so used to you touching him constantly, you would lean against his side almost aggressively until one of his arms rested on your hip, or lower back, or around your shoulders. He didn’t get it, but who was he to complain. If in exchange for your cooperation, care, and that bright smile that lit up the darkest of rooms, you only asked for him to be near to you, why would he ever deny you? It’s the easiest trade he’s ever made if he’s entirely honest, he’s just glad that it was that simple.

Now though, he was asking a lot of you. He was Mand’alor. King of a desolate kingdom of warriors, that had finally gathered ability and the strength to rebuild, and they were a tough crowd. He was going to have to rebuild them, and he wasn’t so sure he was the best of choices to be the builder, but the has the dark saber he supposed, so it was him or death, and he didn’t plan on going anywhere.

He was currently working on the Mandalore restoration project with you, Boba Fett, Fennec Shand, Cara Dune, Paz Vizla, and Greef Karga. Their motto? ‘No Kriffing Civil Wars.’ At current, rebuilding meant taking his new found Clan, and traveling the planet settling different clans and establishments into their own homesteads. It meant building settlements, establishing governments, planting crops. With the now desert climate of the planet, a lot of this was centered around taking old settlements and making them habitable again, making the once grand domed cities habitable or at the very least finding creative ways to redistribute usable resources, water being the main problem. You were instrumental in this cause, you would scout resources, build homesteads, help negotiate treaties, plant crops, watch children, do whatever you could, and the people of this world were quickly starting to realize that their king found an excellent queen, even if she wasn’t a Mando herself. They respected their leaders to be certain, Din could be found just as easily establishing leadership with Paz and Boba, as he could be found keeping the peace with Fennec and Karga, as he could be found alongside the men and women who would inhabit these cities, building homes or repairing ships. You were just as willing to get down in the muck with them, you were most often found with Grogu strapped to your back, helping wherever needed. It was a deeply satisfying sight for Din, as much as it was a reassuring one for his people, and slowly but surely in your travels, his people fell in love with your willingness to embrace struggle.

What’s funny is, your touchy nature really did well with the often stuffy and formal Mandalorians as well. This race of live fast, die young, warriors had been forced into a more sedentary society since they had been scattered amongst the stars. All were invited, and in some places they were ridged, Beskar clad, societies like the children of the Watch, where there was no casual helmet removal. Others were of Bo Katan’s nature, removal not being seen as such a sin, the way of the Mandalorian practiced just as diligently, but without as much insistence on armory removal protocols. Din and his ramshackle group of world builders were learning that if this planet was to survive, these people survive, a more fluid look at the creed would need to be adopted. It was at your suggestion he took Boba Fett as a second in command. There was a man who kept the code, but was not your typical Mandalorian. He was casual with his armor and his assets, and with his years of leadership under his belt, he was well suited to the work, and it was apparent in his every move. This partnership seemed to work, people accepted that for their way of life to survive, the creed would need to be upheld in a way that suited the progress made in their society. As these cities and clans filled in the gaps of the planet, the true nature of what Mandalorian society had become, became clearer. There were younglings, and foundlings, and Mandalorians with Mandalorian spouses and non Mandalorian spouses, and Natural born mandalorians and mandalorians who had adopted the creed, and Din saw that your being a perceived outsider worked wonders in places such as these. You were courting a Mandalorian who strictly adhered to the code, and you were not a Mandalorian yourself. You spoke Mando’a, you were a buir, you were for all intents and purposes a follower of he creed, and surprisingly Mandalorians of all kinds took to you easily. He could often find you bumping shoulders with older Mandalorians, battle hardened warriors who weren’t the playful type, easily laughing with you about something or another, as often as he could find you with newer and more relaxed Mandalorians whose lives lived in hiding had made them a more accepting bunch. It stunned him that no matter who you were around, a gentle embrace, a pat on the shoulder, a hand shake, all your simple physical gestures resonated with people.

He suspected your easy acceptance mostly had to do with the way you treated the children. They adored you, constantly gathering around your feet and following you place to place. You always drew a crowd of the little ade, wether they wanted to play with Grogu, or wether they liked the way you so easily gathered them into your arms, he couldn’t say. However, if he were to guess, the way you so easily kissed wounds, wiped tears, gave hugs, gave snacks, acted as a natural magnet. You loved children as well as any Mandalorian did. You could be found with children more often than adults most days, multiple ad’ika dangling from your arms or clutching to your back. You would playfully groan and huff, carrying them along with you as you went about your buissness. You sang songs, played games, broke up scuffles. You would share your food, breaking off pieces for any small child who expressed interest. Just yesterday, you were eating some fried thing one of the people gave you, a little girl eyes it and you brake off a bit of it, blowing on it softly to ensure it wasn’t too hot and popped it into her mouth with a smile, feeding her as if she were your own. She squealed in delight, and Grogu huffed, indignant that his mother would share with another child. You rolled your eyes playfully, broke the food in two halves, and blew them carefully. Once cooled you handed one half to Grogu, still carefully strapped to your back, and gave the other to the girl. Then you sat and talked to them both until they were finished, you wiped both their mouths with your skirts. The girl rubbed her nose with yours, and then with Grogu, and gave you a sweet kiss on the cheek before running off with your son to play. It was precious. That was the day he connected the dots. People watched you more diligently when you were with the children, as if testing to see what you would do when presented with a random child, and you always passed. It was heartwarming, and your easy going nature always seemed to win them over.

In all this rebuilding, it was now coming upon time where Mandalore needed to reestablish itself as its own kingdom. It was time to present his clan as the new rulers of this planet. In essence, he was building a royal family, and to do this, it was pertinent that you become his wife. It was well past time now he supposed, the elders on every place they visited always asked him when he would “gotal’ur gar riddur.” Make you a wife. He knew you’d be willing, but what about this whole royalty thing? He had yet to ask wether it was something you wanted. You were clearly well suited to the task, but would you be willing to make that sacrifice? He knew this was coming, the moment he would have to ask you to jump off this cliff with him. It was a steep ask. So, what would your price be? Would it be peace? Space? Freedom? Would your price be to be free of him and his foundling? His son? Would your price for him being a leader, be your separation? Merciful heavens he hopes not. You were headed now to your new home, but if you were to ask it, once you arrived, you would leave in this little ship you’d diligently built into a home, and he would… rebuild. Maker he hopes you stay. He peeks into the bed, and sees you there with his ad, his son. His child you so diligently cared for as your own, even in sleep. You were doing it now, Grogu must have gotten cold, because there he was curled into your side, wrapped in your blanket as well as his own. You had pulled on one of Din’s shirts now as well, but he could see by the way you curled in on the little green bundle of energy, you were seeking the warmth the kid provided without much regard for your own comfort. He huffed a laugh, and pulled a spare blanket from your bunk. You probably forgot it was even there, it having been months since last you needed it, because now when you slept, you were usually tangled up in his blankets, sharing his warmth. He smiled under his helmet at this revelation, and turned back to his little aliit, his family. You breathed softly and one of your hands rested under the ad’ik, his cheek nestled into your palm, his tiny hands were fisted in your sleeve to keep you close as possible. He watched as the child nuzzled down further into you in sleep, his face a momentary grimace, until he scented your perfume and his worries melted. The baby huffed a sigh lightly, and his small snores resumed. How fond he was of you, how much he depended on your presence, kriff, they both do. Why must this be so difficult? It’s not as if he’s actually asking you to jump off a cliff, he was asking you to help run a planet… Nope, still nerve wracking.

“Din?” Kriff it all, he didn’t mean to wake you. You rubbed a hand over

Your tired eyes and squinted at him from the light outside the bunk that was still on.

“Sorry to wake you cyar’ika.” He sighed, pulling your blanket up around your neck. You caught his hand as he went to pull away and began to pull him into the bunk with you. He was thankful he had removed all but his helmet before coming to settle.

“No apologies nessecary my love, I was wondering when you’d come to bed.” You yawned, fondly stroking a finger over his knuckles while he reached to shut the lights off. Once off, he slips out of his shoes, then removed his helmet. The hiss of the seal being broken is always such a terrifying sound, he often found himself spooked even when nobody was around. It’s silly, he knows. Especially because you and the child are the only two people in the world who are technically allowed to look at him, or you will be once he asks you one terrifying question.

“Sorry cyar'ika, I’m here now.” He mutters, nuzzling into your chest with a grunt. You huff a laugh through your nose and smile. He feels the way you tangle your fingers in his hair, relishes in the soft and sweet contact. He turns his face into your palm and he feels how your curious fingers carefully mark out each of his features. He grins, he finds it funny how well your hands know what your eyes have never seen, he can’t wait for you to see him, he can’t wait to gaze into your eyes that always held so much love without the barrier of his visor in the way. To return that loving gaze with his own. He remembers the first time he officially removed his helmet in your presence. It was your birthday. The second one he’d spent with you, the first he’d spent courting you. He remembered tying a blindfold over your eyes and you giggling.

“What are you doing big guy? You gonna take off that helmet and kiss me?” He almost tripped over thin air, because yeah, that’s exactly what this was. You heard the hiss of his helmet seal and gasped, taking that perfect opportunity, he sealed his mouth to yours with ferocity. When you separated, he was amused by the way your hands flapped around excitedly before finally resting on his cheeks. Then the appendages fluttered about excitedly over his features before coming to rest again on his face. You sucked in a deep breath as if to calm yourself and he shook his head with a grin.

“What is it Cyar’ika?” He chuckled, twisting his head to kiss your fingertips.

“I’m just so excited.” You squealed quietly, then timidly your fingers began to dance over his features. Small delicate hands tracing the definition of his eyes, his nose. Giggling at the faint tickle of hair on his upper lip. Your hands were most fascinated by his mouth, your grin growing wider every time his kiss would catch your wrists, or palms, or fingers. “Best gift ever. Oh I can just tell you’re so handsome!” You sighed contentedly, finally letting his face rest in your palm while your other hand softly stroked his cheek. You could feel his muscles flex under your hands as he smiled. It was a perfect moment, now he’s hoping this one will be too.

“What are you thinking about my love?”’you sigh, turning to fully wrap your arms around his neck.

“Come with me a minute. Leave the kid, he’ll be fine.” You sighed and carefully detangled yourself from Grogu’s grasp, and rolled into Din’s awaiting arms. He’s already put his helmet back on, and you smile, bumping your head against his Beskar helmet with a smile as he lifts you out of the bunk. He tried to set you back down and you grumble, wrapping your legs tighter around his waist.

“No!” You whine, “The floors are too cold.” Din chuckled and shook his head, rewrapping his arms under your legs.

“All that farming, that peace keeping, and work, and you’re still a Princess.” He chuckles.

“I’m no princess.” You scoff, biting the patch of uncovered skin at his shoulder.

“No, I suppose not, but would you want to be a queen?” You tensed up in his arms, then grasping his shoulders, you dropped down to one foot, then the other. Then your piercing gaze met his, and he swore you could see straight through his armor to his very soul. It was uncanny.

“What are you saying metal man?” Your voice was barely a whisper, but it echoed in his helmet, startling around his ribs causing him to shiver.

“What I’m saying, is I want you to marry me.” He whispers back, wrapping his arms firmly around your waist. There was a long pause then, and it was as if all the time you spent together flashed be fore his eyes.

Memories of you, caring so fondly for his foundling, holding him like his mother used to hold him. Watching fondly as you held the little green child close to your chest with all the care in the world, he never asked you to love him so deeply, it just seemed to pour from your every action. There were memories of you working so diligently on whatever task you set your mind to, solving problems he didn’t even know he had without batting an eye. He pictures you under the dash on the Razor crest, stripping and reworking the controls to be smoother so landings wouldn’t be so bumpy. Reworking the lighting in the hull to be a bit brighter so he wasn’t constantly straining his eyes to see through his dark visor. Polishing his Beskar and tweaking his vambraces to make sure everything ran smoothly. Even more memories flood to mind. Memories of nights holding you as he woke from nightmares of home, of the terrible things he’d done, of loosing this little family he’d come to love so dearly. Memories of the day you met, two bounty hunters against AT-STs, you dropping the bounty on his son immediately when you saw he was just a tiny green boy. You so easily forwent your life, and fit yourself like a puzzle piece into his. All he had done since meeting you, was ask you to make sacrifices, you’d sacrificed your peace on Naboo, your lucrative career as a bounty hunter (very lucrative as you often remind him), your reputation with the guild. Effectively, you sacrificed your safety for his Foundling. You didn’t have to do it, but you did. If the positions were reversed would he have done the same? He didn’t know, but that’s why he needed you. Every time he thought to give up, there you were pushing him to be a better man. A better Mandalorian. Who better to be queen than you?

“Of course I’ll marry you.” He drops to his knees and clutches at your middle, burying his head in your stomach.

“Thank you cyar’ika.” He sighs and all the tension drips away from his body like the leftover pools of a bad dream. “Thank you.”

“Of course! We’ll do it as soon as we get-“ you stop at his giggle and you give one of your own as he stands and presses his helmet to your head. “What is it?”

“We can get married right now.” He chuckles.

“What!?” You gasp, pulling your head back with both hands pressed to the sides of his helmet.

“Yeah, right now. We’re Mandalorians remember? Gotta go fast or you might die.” he chuckles.

“Ok!” You’re positively giddy, “what do we do?” Your eyes look at him with all the love a gaze could hold and he’s so happy.

“Repeats after me.” Vows spoken in a blur, your cheeks hurt from smiling.

"Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde."—translating as

"We are one when together, we are one when parted, we share all, we will raise warriors."

Once the Vows were spoken, you stood there, arm in arm, foreheads pressed together, basking in each others happiness.

“Really? That’s it?” You giggle excitedly, hands covering your mouth as if you’ve told him some sort of fantastic secret.

“Yeah! We’re as married as Mandalorians can get! Now that that’s done, here’s the best part.” You gasped as his hands swiftly removed his helmet, while yours flew to cover your eyes with a smack!

“Dank Farik Djarin, what are you-“ you started but he slowly pulled your hands from your eyes.

“Mesh’la were married, you can look now! It’s okay!” He chuckled and you opened your eyes.

“Oh Maker!” You sighed dreamily and he beamed. “Those big brown eyes, the hair, that smile? I’m literally the luckiest woman alive.” Then, you smashed your lips together unceremoniously. It was the best kiss of his life. You were even more beautiful without the barrier in the way, and now he could hold you, and kiss you, and be with you, no Beskar required. It was the happiest day of his life.

“Just wait till we tell the others.” You squealed and he laughed.

“Can’t wait Mesh’la , can’t wait till they find out you’re all mine.”

The next day his rag-tag group of advisors all gathered in the new capitol. They were all sitting around, drinking (those who removed their helmets or didn’t wear them that is) and telling stories.

“So I’ve decided that that grumpy little girl? Her face isn’t just like that. She’s a little Bantha that one.” You chuckled, telling them about a child you’d recently taken a liking to at the Covert. “This group of older kids who just got their helms right, they teased her that morning at Breakfast, and I told them to stop. They went swimming, and that little girl is as stubborn as a Mudhorn, and twice as crafty. While they were swimming, she and her little gang of kids not old enough to start training gathered all their helmets, and carried them off.” You chuckled and leaned further into the group, making sure that most of your body was still pressed against his. He loved when you were like this, so care free and happy, at peace with the little clan you had cobbled together. So comfortable with this little family you’d created. They all hang onto your every word, fondness was evident in their every feature. “I let them go to watch and see what happens, cause that little womp rat has spirit I tell yah! So, she takes all these helmets and plants flowers in every single one. Fills em up with dirt and plants, and leaves them all in a row outside the covert for the boys to find.” He laughs along with the rest at the tale, each of them surely thinking as he is, that perhaps his little family might have just found another addition in this little trouble maker. “So eventually, the older kids all get out and they go to find their shiny new helms all filled with dirt and flowers. So, someone naturally comes and gets Paz, and the Armorer and I. So we all stand there, trying not to laugh, and the armorer says; ‘What is the meaning of this, Twyla?’ And she just says; ‘Sorry ma’am, but I mistook these helmets for buckets, because who would ever give these empty headed Nerf Herders helmets anyway!’ Oh god, I thought I had busted a lung!” All around the room his little family spluttered and laughed and he’d never felt more content.

“Wow, I love that kid.” Bobba Fett chuckled. “So anything else new with you?” He asked casually, and you shot Din a side eyed glance. Welp, no time like the present.

“Nah, mostly just peace keeping and introductions.” He sighed, pulling you close. You nodded and curled into him, hiding your grin in his shoulder so as not to give it away. The others nodded and settled again, but before anyone moved on in the conversation, Din put his handto his Beskar covered chin, and snapped his fingers. “Oh, that’s a lie! There was something else about this trip, we got married!” There was a moment of silence about the room, and you couldn’t help but laugh, the look on all their faces was comical.

“No WAY!” Paz was the first to break and once the damn had broken, the joy in the room was palpable. There was celebrating to be done by all, and he was glad that it was you they were celebrating. You were officially his, and he wouldn’t trade you for the world.

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