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#i have this AU idea that i really really love
saintobio · 14 hours
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sincerely yours. (10)
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↳ 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
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series masterlist -> episode eleven
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“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? 
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catcze · 2 days
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Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!
[ ###… ] modern AU, rockstar Wriothesley, gn reader, est. relationship, a lil bit of hurt/comfort, fluff, long-distance pining, lovesick & homesick wrio, kinda cheesy which is kind of on brand for me lol
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By the time Wriothesley manages to get back to his hotel room and check his phone, he's pretty sure you're asleep. He hopes you are, knowing how late it must be on your end.
It's no surprise that there are several messages waiting for him— each day you've been apart, you give him something sweet to read in the evenings after a busy day of promos or after a hectic show. Something to make the distance between you seem a little less vast, to let him know that you're still thinking about him.
Even on days where he's dead tired, he'll always read them. Always let you know that he thinks of you, too.
What does surprise him is the newest text, sent at just over twenty minutes ago. Wriothesley frowns as he wonders why you're still up, and his heart only drops more when he scrolls through the messages and reads the latest thing you sent.
I miss you. I really, really miss you.
Before he can even hope that he's not bothering you, his finger near slams on the call button. You answer on the second ring, voice lacking the raspiness of a roused sleep. It makes him sigh with relief.
"Wrio?" you ask, surprised. "Are you okay? What's up?"
"I should be asking you that." Wriothesley sits heavily on the plush bed, flopping back against the pillows with all the grace of a man who just gave a two-hour performance.
As luxurious as the king-sized bed is, with its soft sheets and myriad of immaculately fluffed pillows, he can't help but yearn for the warm familiarity of your own bed and your well-loved blankets.
"Why're you still up, honey? Don't you have breakfast with your friends tomorrow?"
"...can't sleep," you murmur after a beat, voice so quiet. He hears sheets rustling, then silence again. You hesitate. "I... it might sound selfish but I miss you being here with me. It sucks that the bed feels so empty without you."
And oh, if he could, Wriothesley would crawl through the phone right this very second and wrap you in his arms— would crush you to his chest and hold you tight as he listens to your breath taper off into sleep. Would keep you against him, wrapped up in his love and adoration, until you practically have to beat him off of you with a stick.
But he can't and it's killing him.
"It's not selfish. I miss you too," he says, voice longing. "I want to go home to you so bad, sweetheart, you have no idea. Wish I could've packed you up in my bag and smuggled you here with me." He has to fight sleepy giggles at the thought.
"Speaking of— you better be prepared for a crapload of gifts when I get back. I've got a whole suitcase of stuff I thought you'd like."
You gasp, and even sounding a little crackly from the speakers, his heart does a flip. "A whole suitcase?! I wouldn't even know where to put all that!"
"We'll find space. 'm pretty sure there's some stuff we can jigsaw around." Wriothesley tries to keep the tiredness from his voice, tries to fight back the yawn. It's been so long since you've called, what with timezones and schedules getting in the way, and he wants to talk to you longer— ask how your day's been, what your plans are for the rest of the week, if there were any places you want to visit when he gets home. This call is much too short for all the things he wants to say, for all the hours he wants to spend listening to you talk.
But try as he might, you can tell he's close to knocking out without even having to lay an eye on him.
"You should sleep," you tell him, voice soothing him like a balm. "You're probably tired after your show. I saw a few videos, you know— you were so cool. I'm proud of you, Wrio."
He hums, basking in your praise. His eyelids are already growing heavy, the soft siren's song of sleep growing harder to resist. If he closes his eyes, maybe he can imagine that you're just down the hall, busy with something. You'll come in any second now, crawl into bed and slip into his arms, and everything would be right with the world.
"Thank you for... for calling. For checking up on me just because of a text." You giggle at that last bit, and (as it always seems to do) his heart flips. "I love you lots."
"Mm, no need to thank me. Just gimme lots of kisses when I get home." His tongue is growing heavier, sleep more inviting. But he manages to get one last thing out— "I love you lots, too."
Right before Wriothesley lets himself drop, you press a loud, exaggerated kiss to the receiver of your phone. He smiles.
That's how you both fall asleep: with both phones still on the line, even breaths and quiet snores comforting the other into a restful slumber.
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3lli3l0v3r · 2 days
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10:15 Saturday Night
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READ THIS FIRST! 🇵🇸
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☆: this one-shot is based on this little imagine/idea thing y'all really liked! ellie coming into your bedroom after throwing rocks at your window, that famed rom-com trope. i love making titles from songs so here’s this one. linking it because i despise the way the audio embed thing looks, that shit’s so ugly- have nothing else to say except this was meant to be only fluffy, but i got a little carried away at the end (and sub!ellie turns me into a rabid raccoon so) 😇 smut is embarrassing af to write i better get over that lmao but anyway, hope you enjoy!
♧: 5k word count
◇: SMUT!! porn w/ plot, but it's sweet. lotsa fluff too, modern au, established relationship, reader feels gloomy in the beginning, mentions of unspecified argument, dorky ellie saves the day, mentions of being irritated at family, mututal teasing back n forth, ellie’s lowk annoying LMAO. kinda mean reader (but in a hot way), lazy/rushed intro bc i’m impatient. cuddling → starts out as top!ellie but oops! a dash of nipple play, a little fighting for dominance ending in sub!ellie & dom!reader, fingering (e! and r! receiving), oral (e! receiving), risky sex. she's a whimperer folks- lawd i needa ruin her….this is very self indulgent, in case you couldn’t tell. lmk if i forgot anything!)
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Waiting for the telephone to ring, and I’m wondering where she's been. And I'm crying for yesterday, and the tap drips. Drip, drip, drip, drip….
Robert Smith’s vocals rang through the room as you spun around in your chair, round and round and round until you got dizzy, your brain being jostled around in your skull as if you were on a rollercoaster. Gaming chairs, powerful things they were. You were lost in thought, pondering the state of the world and your life, because you had nothing better to do other than wallow in your miseries. 
Everything was going downhill, or that’s certainly what it felt like currently. You hated every single one of your responsibilities and life was generally not being kind to you. But most of all, you hated disagreeing with your girlfriend. Ellie could get a little feisty when things didn't go exactly her way, and you loved that fighter quality about her, but maybe not when it was used in your disagreements with her. This particular day her spunky attitude was getting on your nerves, and both of you had gotten a little irritated with each other.
You knew that neither one of you meant anything you said in the heat of the moment, you just had occasional squabbles like everyone else. However this time, today’s words hit you a little harder. Not to mention it was spring break and so for the time being you’d gone back home to spend time with your family. Ellie had done the same. You were very grateful the two of you grew up close to each other, only started your relationship years after initially meeting. You enjoyed reminiscing about the budding moments, adored looking back on the good ole days. 
The source of today’s irritation could have been a myriad of things. Maybe you’d had another little fight with your family members, had a lot of assignments due after the break was over, and the weather was generally horribly ugly. Gray, cloudy skies, pouring rain, wind and chilly temperatures, everything was just going swimmingly. When all of that added up it was only natural for people to be a little on edge, and briefly forget the good moments life had to offer, wasn't it?
Picking up your phone, you stared at the sent message to Ellie, just a plain text asking what she’s up to. Even in moments of disagreements where you needed space to get yourself back on track, you would send her little messages as a way to show her, and reassure yourself, that it was only temporary and the two of you would talk it out amazingly and come out even stronger on the other side.
But now you’ve been left on delivered for hours, was she really that busy? Knowing her, it was likely. Her and Joel were probably out fishing or hiking or doing some other fun outdoorsy activity, while you were just left to rot within the confines of your childhood bedroom. Had she not ticked you off earlier you would have asked to come with. Waiting on an answer from her of any kind would only serve to frustrate you even more, so you put your phone away and collapsed into your warm, inviting bed, despite it being way too early to go to sleep. But you didn’t feel like doing much of anything else, so a little shut-eye wouldn’t hurt. 
Within moments you were out like a light. Blissfully relaxing in dreamland, where you were frolicking amongst colorful flower fields and riding on the back of a unicorn into the sunset, dancing with fairies and twirling to your heart's content. Your family dog’s deafening barking was drowned out by you playing the harp with elves and floating endlessly into an abyss of turquoise waters. You were so deep in this wonderful dream, it was healing you in all the right ways you needed right now. Restoring every ounce of energy you lost, fighting against your inner saboteurs so efficiently. You’d simply stay there forever if you could. Until-
Plink, plink, plink. A small, repetitive sound persisted through your slumber, eventually waking you up. Startling awake and switching on your lamp, you stepped out of bed with a groan, stumbling over your steps and rubbing your eyes to get to the window to see what in the world could possibly be happening.
It was raining heavily, and seemed to be hours after you had initially fallen asleep. You squinted through the raindrops coating the pane of glass and down into your yard as an attempt to scout out the noise. Looking down through the blur, you were met with your loving, apologetic girlfriend, her form scurrying around your yard in the dark of night, scavenging your yard for something. Were those pebbles she was throwing at your window? How cliche.
It appeared as if she had found some, standing upright and rearing her arm back in preparation to fling it at the glass, until she saw you and waved. You didn't open the window just yet, and signaled to tell her to scram. What was she doing here at this hour, in this weather? You flapped your arms frantically in every direction, out towards every axis, resulting only in her pouting and shaking her head. You weren't going to get rid of her that easily.
Twisting and turning the knob to open the window with a creak, you lean outside in the drizzle and stage whisper down at her. “Ellie? It's like, I don't even know the time, but it's late. What the fuck are you doing?” The phrases thrown at each other during your earlier squabble flickered through your mind again, but you pushed them aside because the sight of your love always made your heart melt. And she was clearly up to something, so you were going to see it through to the end.
She shouts up at you, “Hey, I wanna say I'm sorry for earlier. I wanna make it up to you so-” She cuts herself off by bending into a kneel, setting down her bag on the wet grass and rummaging through it, pulling out her navy blue ukulele and clearing her throat. You feel yourself blush from the actions, might be from second hand embarrassment, might be because you're touched by the gesture. She begins.
“So, uh, I tried getting my guitar but it was too big to carry all the way here and I don't want it to get wet so, this'll do.” She strums it, gently swaying from side to side, and sings a scuffed rendition of A-ha's Take on Me, her voice shaking slightly and the cheap instrument being significantly out of tune. The rain and distant thunder was drowning her out, but watching patiently was more than fine. You stay at your window, listening to her serenade until the last few lyrics.
Not even realizing it, but once she finishes the performance, your heart is warmed and you're beaming at her. You truly loved her so much, and as much as you wished to, couldn't stay mad at her for any longer. And regardless, standing out in the rain getting soaked to the bone like that was her punishment, in a sense. The moonlight is dancing on her face in a way that makes her eyes twinkle as if they were plucked straight from the cosmos, and she's grinning widely at you. Enchanting as ever.
“Did it work? I love you!” She blows you a kiss, wipes her slicked down hair from her face and shudders violently. “It's really cold down here, can I come up? Please lemme in.” The slight nasally tone in her voice could make you do anything for her, damn, this girl didnt even know how much of a hold she had on you sometimes.
“Fine. Just one sec.” You closed the window on her to take a quick, silent stroll through the halls of your house to make sure every one of your family members was situated in their respective rooms, and unlikely to be disturbed by any ruckus. By the time you made your way back to your own room, Ellie had already perched herself in the big oak tree next to your house. She was crouched at the top of it, gripping onto a branch and peering inside your room, calmly waiting for you to return and so you could give her the “okay” to come in.
She startled you momentarily, looking like a bit of a creep staring into your house like that, but you laughed it off and opened the window fully for her. “Okay, here goes.” Ellie mumbles under her breath and inches forward closer to the edge of your roof. It wasn't a big gap, but there was a sure possibility of injury and it was a risk you didn't want her to take, but Ellie being Ellie, she was going to be reckless and do it anyway.
What if her foot slipped on the wet shingles and she went splat on the ground? Or broke every bone in her body with a crunch…? That wouldn't be pretty. Your stomach flipped with nerves and you grimaced, turning away. “Please don't die.” She didn't respond and instead only focused on completing the jump to your roof with a “hmf”. One step was done, you breathed a sigh of relief and opened one eye.
She was slowly making her way there with both arms outstretched, and as she had almost completed the journey, she tripped. You screeched quietly and turned away again, that was definitely helpful, but bracing yourself for the worst inevitably proved unnecessary when you heard her familiar raspy giggle. She caught herself just in time and was at the windowsill now, appearing winded from the effort and adrenaline.
“Heh, told you I'd be fine.” “Ellie don't scare me like that, just hurry up.” You helped her crawl inside your candle lit room by the arm, and once she was inside only then did you notice how drenched she was from the rain. Just sopping wet, dripping water all over your, thankfully, hardwood floors. The severity of the conditions outside only became even more apparent to you now, poor girl was about to turn into an icicle. It would be mean of you to leave her like this and let her catch a cold, she hasn’t wronged you quite that much. But a part of you was feeling a little playful, a little mischievous perhaps.
“Don't move, I'll find you something warm.” Before you can disappear inside your closet to find her some dry clothes she attacks you in a clumsy embrace, resulting in you being soaked now too. You try to pry her away and feel goosebumps come on as her cold lips connect with your neck, moist smacks as she smooches you all over.
“Let go, Els, c'mon you're gonna get me all wet too.” You lament to her, then regret your choice of words instantly as she pulls away to look at you, wiggle her eyebrows and smirk, to which she comments. “Damn right I am, that's m'goal.”
Whenever she pulls dirty jokes on you your immediate instinct is to burst into laughter, but you clap your hand over your mouth and hiss back at her. “Shhhh we gotta be really quiet, everyone's asleep. I don't feel like getting a talking-to at breakfast in the morning, y'know because ‘their house, their rules’.” You whisper the explanation to her as you roll your eyes and mock your family's words, adding air quotes as well. 
Ellie gives you double thumbs up in response, solemnly swearing to not produce a peep. After rummaging through your drawers, you find a warm pajama set which matches yours and make her put it on while you sneak around to grab her a towel to dry off with too. 
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Moments later the two of you are cuddled up in your bed together, entangled in each other's arms, enjoying the quiet company. Just listening to the other’s steady intakes and exhales of oxygen, warm hands caressing over clothes stroking each other's hair, wanting to absorb into the other and assimilate into one being. What a shame that wasn't possible, you thought. 
There wasn't too much of a need to discuss the disagreement in depth, because of the mutual understanding it wasn't anything serious, and ultimately the product of annoying circumstances, which was definitely a huge relief. Shit happens, and you were as glad ever to be entangled in her arms again, although it was worth mentioning in short anyway. You break the silence by whispering into her ear.
“You didn't have to come here Els.” You hear her let out a throaty chuckle, then squeeze your waist tighter. “I felt bad, I know you've been kinda under the weather recently. And wanna say sorry for being annoying earlier.” She murmured into the side of your neck, sending tingles on a path spreading throughout your whole body.
While the the two of you were cuddling in your room keeping conversation faint as can be, she had absent-mindedly began to roam her hands around your body, from the sides of your ribcage, to clutching your waist, to settling on your hips to play with the waistband of your fleece pajama pants. She was placing feather-light kisses on your neck simultaneously, and you found it hard to believe she didn't know what she was doing, but it was definitely working on you, and you frankly found it funny. She really did have a habit of being handsy. Your logical side was screaming how bad of an idea this was, but your horny side…
It was like the angel and devil sitting atop your shoulders, debating the pros and cons. You wondered who was going to win.
Teasingly whispering back to her, “Els, what do you think you’re doing?” Even through her hushed tone, you could hear the smirk dancing upon her pretty pink lips. “Nothin’ much, just feelin’ up my girl.” She finishes the statement with a firm squeeze to your boobs. Subtle. And just like that, the little devil was winning, you could hear their maniacal cackles metaphorically in your mind. 
“Ellie, my fuckin’ parents are asleep in the next room over, do you know how thin these stupid walls are?” “So?” “So??? Do you want me to die knowing they were woken up by their adult, straight-A, accomplished, child sneaking in her girlfriend in the middle of the night, like we’re teenage hooligans in a movie or something?”
You'd put Pinocchio to shame by lying like this, knowing full well having her cuddled up close to you, feeling her strong hands sensually explore every curve and valley on your body, and her wearing some of your favorite pajamas was slowly but surely getting you all worked up. All that in tandem with the risk factor was turning you on much more than you'd care to admit. Unpack that another day. Your face was burning and your heart rate was increasing whether you liked it or not, and your girlfriend was right there…a little messing around wasn't going to hurt anyone, was it? 
Hesitantly giving in, you turn around in bed to face her and wordlessly press a kiss to her lips, shoving down the lingering embarrassment. It surprises her and she doesn't kiss you back right away, instead laughs in your face and cracks more stupid dad jokes, only making you roll your eyes and punch her in the arm. She snickers, “Ha, not so good after all, are ya?”
When you don't throw a snarky remark back at her she takes your face in her bracelet-clad hand, thumb gliding across your bottom lip smoothly. The dim light in your room casts shadows on her face that make her look mystical, and hot as hell. “Wanna make you feel good.” She murmurs, mostly to herself, while scanning your features shamelessly.
You abruptly sit up and she follows, watching you quizzically. You look her up and down a few more times, just for the sake of it, before roughly yanking her towards you by the shirt and slamming your lips onto hers. She responds properly this time, slipping her tongue into your mouth with ease just how you like it, her grabby hands running all over your body, not knowing where to settle.
The kiss is hot and greedy, pure need coursing through your veins. You'd only been apart for a week at most, and it was definitely a week too long. Your own hands find their way up to her auburnette locks as you grab a fistful and pull, coaxing a scarcely audible groan rumble from her throat. You nip and bite down on her neck, stopping when you get to her pulse point where you could feel just how hard her heart was racing, reveling in the tiny pants leaving her lips as she tried so hard to stay as quiet as possible per your request, screwing her eyes shut and gritting her teeth.
She pulls you back up to meet her in a sloppy kiss, maneuvering the two of you so she was on top of you and you were on your back, gripping the soft flesh of your thighs as she places herself between your legs. Her fingers playing with your nipple while the front of her pelvis rammed against your heat was making you desperate for more of her, and quickly.
Her hands slid under your shirt and caressed your skin all over your entire torso, then you stopped her to take your shirt off and throw it to a corner of your room. Ellie wasted no time to place her mouth on your chest, peppering sweet kisses wherever her lips could reach, licking and sucking on your nipples until they hardened, pausing to stare up at you when the sensation made you squirm into her and sigh. “So much for being quiet, huh?” She taunts oh so smugly, thinking she's got to you. 
But her voice fluctuates in pitch as her mind becomes more clouded with arousal, resulting in you getting wetter and wetter. She was going to kill you. Bucking your hips into her in pursuit of some friction, she takes the hint and briskly undoes the bow on your pj pants, and slides her hand in. Her fingers land on the wet spot soaking through your underwear and she prods at it, just to annoy you further.
She really was being purposely insufferable today. You jeer at her, “can you just-” She shuts you up by kissing you again, messily and open-mouthed, swallowing every little sound you made. You pull her closer against you by the waist, and she whimpers. That turned you on even more, if that was even possible, your whole being thrumming with lust, new ideas materializing in your mind. What if you got back at her for being annoying, and in the best way?
The risk factor of having to stay impossibly quiet only added more fuel to the fire, and now you wanted to challenge it as much as you could. You snake your hand down her body and palm her pussy over her clothes and you swore you could feel her clench as soon as you made contact.
She lowers her head to your shoulder and her hand in your pants stops moving, you've officially broken this girl with one lazy touch. “Hmm?” You hum, feigning foolishness as if nothing was deliberate. “Seems you're the needy one here, Els.” Cooing at her in a low voice, her uneven breathing fills your ear. The way she'd planted herself on top of you made the task difficult but not impossible, and you shimmied your hand to her boxers, feeling up the wet spot that was surely triple the size of yours. Not cracking jokes now, is she?
And voila, you knew what your next moves were going to be. Your only goal was to have some fun with her now, just because you could. You began to rub your fingers up and down her slit, the thin fabric catching her clit perfectly making her breath hitch as she tries to suppress whines. “Hey, that's not…fair.” Ellie attempts to regain composure over herself and talks back through gasps, but you don't cease what you're doing. Breaking her was too good.
She fights back by copying your motions, her shaky hand rubbing your pussy at a messy rhythm, up and down, side to side, really not accomplishing much because eventually you win, and she removes her hand from you and presses her body against yours, clutching your waist for dear life and shoving her head in the crook of your neck to stabilize herself. 
Her whimpers and tiny moans were music to your ears, egging you on to do more. Moving the fabric aside, you slide a finger inside her needy, drenched hole, slick dripping down your knuckles as you find her spongy spot and curl your fingers against it. She hisses on top of you, clearly you were doing something right. 
Inserting another one, you could feel her walls clench and gush around your digits, as you ruthlessly pressed against her g-spot, the heel of your palm bumping against her sensitive clit, eliciting harsher whines from her, muffled by your shoulder. 
After a short few moments, you could tell she was about to cum by the way her pussy walls fluttered, and whimpers increased in desperation, sugary, dulcet “ah- haah"s escaping from her lips. 
“Gettin close, Els?” Your voice was supple as honey, you were enjoying this too much. She gulps and nods her head, “yeah..hn..please.”
Not so fast. “Hm, okay.” Replying in a cheery tone, as cheery as you can be while whispering that is, you stop all you're doing and tap her on the back. She puffs and sniffles, her voice small and trembling. “What'd you do that for?” 
She was too cute like this, you chuckled at her pathetic attempts to rut against you to get that release, and grunt in annoyance. 
“Patience.” “Whatever.” She grumbled. “Lay down.” You order her gently, and stroke her hair. Of course she obeys, she needed this too much. 
With shaky arms Ellie lifts herself off of you, pouting down at you then plopping herself down beside you in the bed. 
Switching places, you stare down at her fondly, wanting to make her feel good properly now. She deserved it after all that. You bend to kiss her forehead, which makes her blush go from rosy to crimson to maroon, her freckles blending in with her cheeks, and she bites her bottom lip while avoiding your gaze. Her expression was simply adorable, all flushed and fucked out already, all for you.
You grope at her chest, making her whine and scrunch her face up. “Need you, please.” She asks, so nicely, her normally confident voice breaking. Of course you'll give her what she wants.
You decide she's waited plenty enough, and tug her boxers and pajama bottoms off in one swift motion, discard them in the same corner of your room your shirt is currently residing, and get to work. 
Wasting not a second more, you rapidly shove your face in her pussy, latching onto her clit and sucking with fervor. Taking her in your mouth, grazing with the tips of your teeth ever so gently. She squirms beneath you, her knuckles turning white from how hard she's gripping the sheets on either side of her. 
Losing yourself in her, nipping and sucking and licking to your heart's content, humming at her taste and purring praises into her, “pretty, pretty pussy” the vibrations from your low voice reverberating through her only making everything more intense. One particularly forceful knock of the tip of your nose to her clit makes her squeal and close her thighs around your head, unfortunately that was much louder than preferable.
Both of you freeze, chests heaving up and down, staring dazed and wide-eyed at the other, and listen through the walls to see if it caused any disturbance, and you shoot a glare at her once confirming it was unnoticed by anyone in your otherwise silent house. Not a rustle was heard, thank goodness. You exhale through a whistle, then warn through your teeth, “One more sound and I'm pushing you right out that window, got it?” 
It came out meaner than you'd meant it to, but she accepts and nods meekly, responding in a wobbly voice, “M'sorry, can't help it.” You relax and press kisses on the soft flesh of her inner thighs, before resuming just as before.
You continue devouring her, her toned abs flexing and caving in beautifully, the light slurping and squelching sounds filling the room, all while holding her hips in place, fingers pressing into the shape of her muscles while she arches her back above you and her fist flies to grab onto your hair, with deathly strength. A symphony of choked “guh- uh” left her throat while you lapped up her slippery fluids, sensing her body twitch as her orgasm began to build. She didn't even have to tell you, you knew her body like you knew your own at this point.
Curling your fingers in her once more, tongue never halting its circles around her pulsing bud and a final thrust to her g-spot was enough to push her off the edge, finally.
The rush ripples through her as her whole body seizes and tenses up, she's creaming around your hard-at-work fingers, and you help her ride out the high by licking gently and weakening the pressure until she pushes your head away because it was getting too much. All that with no sound louder than a mere squeak and string of whispers resembling your name and a colorful array of profanities, she had bitten down on her hand so hard her canines had left dents, but otherwise looked so content and at peace. Gasps lessening and breathing steadying to the pace before, a faint smile on her pretty face, and her eyes lazily closed. 
Seeing her all satisfied and happy in turn made you happy, and you cuddled on top of her, laying your head on her chest. Her heartbeat was going at such a fast and frantic pace, you loved hearing it slow back to normal. 
Adjusting yourself made her wince, still so sensitive from all you did. “Sorry Els. Did so good.” You mumble and lean up to peck the side of her neck as she drapes her arms around your back and rubs in circles, calming the both of you.
She hums contentedly. “Love you.” “Love you too Els.” 
You didn't even care about cleaning up or moving or anything of the sort, because being close to her was all that mattered. The last thing she said before falling asleep and kissing you on the top of the head was, “To the moon and back.” And you fell asleep immediately after her, feeling loved and comforted just like whenever you spent time with her, your girlfriend's ideas always turned out well after all.
Now as for the morning, that was a problem for future you to deal with. Were your parents going to barge in your room and throw her out, or was it going to be an awkward conversation? Who cares? Now it was only time to drift off to dreamland together, hand in hand.
And that you did. You disappeared from this reality and into an ethereal dream world just like earlier, only she was there with you. It was eternally euphoric, the two lovers delightfully singing duets with the fairies, skipping into the horizon and climbing up the arcs of glittery rainbows, it was more than you ever hoped for. As if there never was any disagreement to begin with, all issues were solved when you were together with her, your other half.
Now this dream you really wanted to stay in forever, but since that wasn't possible, you vowed to savor and appreciate it, and her, to the fullest.
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lol someone sedate meeeeeee. idk how to end these. pikmin :3 IKKK THE ENDING IS RUSHED TOO AAAA whateva.
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bigfatbimbo · 6 hours
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okay omg this is so dumb ong but basically, alastor said like vox is powerless without the other vees, right? and so picture like maybe something happens and the vees like fall apart and that leaves vox totally powerless. i just find the idea of a loser ass gideon graves type vox crashing on your couch because his entire empire fell apart very entertaining.
basically, headcanons? smut, fluff, angst, idc this is just such a silly episode type plot
i know i’m not alone, your a loser, just like me
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a/n — I have such a love for oddly specific requests like this. In fact, I just love oddly specific x reader au’s.
summary — After the fall of the Vees, along Vox’s empire, and power, he’s left totally stranded in the reader apartment as their more or less housewife, and forced to live the life of, for lack of a better word, a total loser.
extra tags — headcanons, established relationships, mentions of smut, mentions of angst, mostly just fluff, like you could skip over the smut and angst if you want and barley loose anything
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Vox has never had a lot of free time. In death, his schedule was just as packed as it was during life. From meetings, to live shows, to arguments with Alastor, to any so-called ‘downtime’ with the Vees, he’s never not been busy. 
But the Vees weren’t here anymore, and neither was his empire. That meant, no arguments to mediate and no business offers to consider. Practically, he had no work to do. 
And the part that really bothered him, was that you did. Him being out of a job, meant that you were the main breadwinner of the household. In simple terms, Vox was powerless. And the downgrade from his studio standing high above the rest of Hells scum, to your one bedroom apartment was certainly less than charming. 
He had nothing to do all day, but sit and wait for you. That doesn’t sound that bad for any normal person, but Vox wasn’t normal. And neither was the way he was dealing with the sudden fall of his empire. 
The first week came and went, rocky to say the least. His time was spent either in bed, or lounging by the bathtub, reluctantly petting his shark, Vark. After a while, the comfort of the creature evaporated as quickly as it set in. Vox’s brows would furrow with irrational. Vark, the only remaining piece of wreckage, reminding him of his once powerful kingdom. 
But Vark didn’t know Vox had lost anything. Infuriated by this thought, each visit to the bathtub that week led to Vox promptly storming out of the room. 
The second week hadn’t been all that better. Feeling the need to compensate for the absence of his power, he acted specifically entitled. Not to mention, coming onto you every five seconds, and trying his hardest to act domineering. 
However, this desperate act crumbled as soon as you got fed up, “Seriously Vox, could you keep it in your fucking pants? Acting powerful doesn’t bring back your power, douchebag.” 
The statement should have prompted an argument, one that would have happened if it hadn’t been for Vox’s fragile state of living, but he simply shut his mouth.
Which brings us to the third week. The initial sadness and desperation has worn off, since it has been almost a month. It’s not that he doesn’t crave that power back anymore, but there is a subtle understanding that it’s not coming back anytime soon. 
Instead, he focuses on distracting himself through more mundane aspects of life. 
For lack of his surveillance cameras, he’d resort to following you around with a small drone for part of the day, examining your tasks. Watching you work he’d sigh, you were so productive.
However the drone would only last so long, since it wasn’t the most well-made contraption. At first, he’d really hate the feeling of being all alone. It made him feel like your housewife, or something. Well, he thought, in a sense, he was. 
Reluctantly, and given his time period, he’d do what he knows about the whole concept of being the stay-at-home partner. Although, given he’s never played that role, he’s terrible at it.
You’d come home and his attempt to clean the house would lead to slippery soap suds on the ground, acting like breadcrumbs leading to the task that Vox accidentally distracted himself with.
In most cases, this would be a chalk board where he would uselessly try to plot out his rise to power, once again. And he’d be laughing maniacally while explaining it to you, but he’s very proud of all of his [unrealistic] plans so you’d just have to nod and smile. His ego has taken enough hits as is, he doesn’t need your disapproval too.
However, sometimes, he would really try to cook something for you when you arrive home. This… doesn’t work out well, to say the least.
As soon as you walk through the door, you’re greeted with smoke, and angry shouting. Not at you, however. When your surroundings become less fuzzy, you see clearly Vox screaming profanities at the oven.
“Useless piece of shit,” he’d shout, kicking the oven, and then recoiling back from the pain in his toe. Then once again getting angry and throwing a spatula at the wall closest to you.
“Y/n!” He’d observe, putting on his, now rusty, customer service voice, “I didn’t think you’d be home so soon.” 
“Yeah, looks like you needed—“ You cough, swatting away the smoke from the kitchen and going to open a window “—more time to finish up.”
Walking over to him, he’d slouch over and cross his arms, clearly not happy with his failure of an attempt to cook for you. With his new foreign feeling of uselessness, he’d be very desperate for any form of success.
You’d put your hands on either side of his shoulders and rub comfortingly, “What were you trying to cook?” 
And that starts the new routine. Vox tries to cook for you, fails, and you come home and help him finish the job.
He doesn’t like being bossed around, even in the kitchen, but with the sudden withdrawal from the spotlight, he’s constantly craving your attention to an obsessive amount, which mostly makes up for his control-freak nature.
With this, however, that means that every second you’re off work and NOT at home with him, he throws a huge hissy fit. 
Probably leading to a big argument where, after a short time of pouting, Vox realizes that he probably doesn’t want to loose the only person he has left. So he smooth talks his way back, before you even consider kicking him out.
But every morning before work it’s a struggle too, “Vox, get off of me, I have to go to work.” 
“Call off, then.” “No?” “Oh, so you don’t fucking love me enough.” “Do you not love this roof over your head? I’m going to work.” “…pick up some gatorade on your way home.” 
Along with being desperate for attention, as could be assumed he’s intensely and apologetically clingy. Well, unapologetic in the sense that he doesn’t change he’s behavior after you call him out on it. He does get very defensive when you tease him.
Like even when it’s undeniable. He’d have his head laying in your lap, lazily playing with your fingers while he talks about whatever his ‘evil plan to rise to power’ of the week is. And you tell him you needed to go to the bathroom and he would move and just tell you to “Wait until i’m finished talking.”
Sex wise, he would try really, irritatingly hard to be super dominant to compensate for his loss of power in society. But on the flip side, because of his vulnerable state, he’d probably naturally find himself being more easily submissive in bed. 
But with that, I think he’d have less of a tolerance for overly degrading words. Because usually, I would definitely say he has a thing for degrading and humiliation, but his ego was [very high but] fragile before, and in the light of recent events, it’s completely fucking shattered.
It’s really just embarrassment at the end of the day. His self entitlement isn’t gone, it’s just been replaced by a “aw boohoo, i’m so much better than this :(“ mindset.
So he needs praise more than anything. In fact, a lot of what he does, or rather tries to do, around the house is to get your approval. To not fail at something, and it’s been a while. 
Now, smut aside, like I said, there’d be a lot more vulnerability on Vox’s part. Because, after all, he’d probably be in the worst headspace of his entire existence.
It’s safe to assume, being a white man in the fifties, that he didn’t have it rough in life. And up until the fall of the Vees, dying was one of the best things that ever happened to him. 
For the first time, in all of the years he’s lived and died, he isn’t overtly privileged, and it’s driving him crazy. His immense power has been replaced by a terrible craving for success. His fear of failure and rejection have been heightened, and he’s almost as obsessed with getting his empire back, as he is dependent on you. 
But with no real way to achieve his goal, and barely any drive, he is left being, for lack of a better word, a washed up loser. A hazbin, if you would!
But he does miss the Vees. In fact, he misses them a lot. Occasionally you have to comfort him at night when he’s thinking of them, or when he sees something that reminds him of the two of them. 
I also think he’d go through days where he’d either be super prone to arguments and super touchy, or you see a noticeable change in this behavior because he just doesn’t care as much anymore.
Silly Vox though, which you’d see a lot more of now that he isn’t a CEO, would be very present.
You’d get home from work and he’d be super siked because he picked out a movie to watch with you. (Goodfellas, American Psycho, or Joker, it is never not one of these movies.) 
But he has a lot of time when your away, and that’s kinda dangerous for a guy like him, especially in a closed space since he’s too ashamed to show his face to the outside world.
You’d walk through the door and he’d show you some new tech he swears will allow you both to “rise through the ranks of hell!” But you’d take one look and realize, “Vox did you take apart our microwave to make that??” 
Most days, he’d go through weird cycles of trying to clean the house and cook, basically doing what he knows he’s ’obligated’ to do as your sitcom housewife, but then other days, literally trashing the place.
You’d come home find glass shattered all across the, almost flooded, floor. Then you’d look up to find Vox lowering Vark into a clearly homemade tank.
He’d reassure you and be like, “No, now we have our tub back! All thanks to me and my genius brain, your welcome—“
“Where’d you get the glass, Vox,” you’d sigh, massaging your forehead because of the new, growing headache. Not to your surprise, but definitely your disappointment, the response would be, “…The bedroom windows.”
Also, this is off topic but he’d have one of those “kiss me, i’m irish” aprons. 
I think that Vox at rock bottom has such a fun ‘beginning of season character arc’ vibe to me. Like watch as he goes from the world’s worst housewife, to semi-competent over the span of a few months.
It reminds me of peridots (steven universe reference) redemption arc, in a sense of vibes alone. If we’re talking from a realistic in-show perspective, end of the season, the redemption arc would not be successful IF YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN.
Like he would be fully adjusted, and honestly happy with his life. Slow dancing with you each night, honestly getting the hang of cooking, and a lot less complaining. But then he would get an opportunity to once again rise the ranks of hell. And a good opportunity too, like it would place him very relatively high up.
And well… society can take the villain out of the capitalist, but never the capitalist out of the villain.
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a/n — actually society, especially in hell, does not have the power to take the villain out of the capitalist, but I digress. Don’t get bimbo started on capitalism as a social concept because it is literally the most interesting thing in the world to me lowkey.
Anyways, I love housewife!Vox so much, and I will be SO HAPPY to do more with this au. He’s the worlds shittiest stay-at-home partner and I love him.
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quinn-pop · 1 day
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okay fine i’ll bring back the egg. sorry for the pun but i’ve been sitting on this for a while because i can’t decide what to name them
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(thinking they/he???)
they love being warm and must be approximately as snug as a bug in a rug at all times <3
didn’t give much context before but we’re going with that the egg was abandoned in winter horns and recovered by a group of waddle explorers
there wasn’t a lot of (known) writing on dedede’s species so figuring out what to do from there was kinda hard and they didn’t really know anything for certain, but between a little research, a gut feeling, and dedede and mk already used to Parenting, they passed the egg onto them to look after and well. yeah
it was definitely a rollercoaster for dedede, to be given hope that there were others like him after all - so it was only natural he’d take it very seriously. he spends a lot of time with them and they’re very clingy because of it. he says they’re like a duckling
being so big also comes with problems because as clingy as they are, they outgrew being able to be held by other people pretty fast lol
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“meta pls stop looking like ur gonna punt our kid”
anyway i guess i’ll introduce the other kid next? between the two of them uhh dedede had a very tiring few years. stay at home dad problems i guess. on top of being a king lol
he probably realized how grateful he was that kirby was so independent lol..
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the real enemy is everyone (meta especially) having a busy schedule
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sincerelyneo · 1 day
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woman | h.rj
“i hope you can see the shape that i’m in while he’s touching your skin”
💿now playing: woman by harry styles
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❯ summary: Renjun is selfish - he knows. He knows that he has no right to be jealous of Shotato, your dance partner, but he is. Because even though he broke up with you, you’re still his.
❯ pairings: renjun x fem!reader (ft. riize’s shotaro)
❯ genre: exes, smut, angst, idol!au
❯ words: 6.5k
❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, jealousy, swearing, arguing, slight angst, smut, dom!renjun, unprotected sex (don't do this!), marking, possessiveness, oral sex (f receiving), praising, mirror sex, hair pulling, creampie, porn with a little bit of plot, use of 'my girl', reader uses she/her pronouns, literally just renjun being jealous and sulky for 6k words.
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Fuck Osaki Shotaro. 
That’s the only thing going through Renjun’s mind as he sees the younger dancer have his hands all over you in your dance rehearsal. 
Renjun knows he has no right to be seething right now - he’s the one that broke up with you - but there’s something about seeing Shotaro in your personal space, tracing his fingers down your torso, and making you smile with every compliment he gives you on your technique that’s really starting to piss him off.  
It's not that Renjun has any specific issue with Shotaro himself; any guy in his position would irk him. Still, it’s Shotaro's love for helping others improve their dancing that only adds fuel to Renjun's frustration, especially now that he's volunteered to assist you.
As Renjun feigns busyness on his phone, waiting for his own rehearsal, he seethes behind the glass of the practice room, a visible vein pulsing on his forehead. 
“Dude, you’re practically burning holes into Taro’s hoodie,” Chenle chuckles as he walks over, a smirk playing on his lips as he gazes down at Renjun.
“Don’t be so ridiculous, I’m not!” Renjun rolls his eyes and moves his bag to make room for Chenle to sit on the floor beside him.
“Oh yeah?” Chenle teases, “Then what’s with the bursting vein on your forehead?”
“I’ve just been replying to some shitty emails,” he lies, hastily locking his phone and stuffing it into his pocket.
Chenle quirks a brow and gives him a deadpan look, “You had the weather app open.”
Renjun runs a hand through his hair, about to defend himself, but then he hears your laughter and his gaze snaps back to the glass instantly. 
Shotaro's hand delicately trails along the curve of your waist, before he pulls you into a graceful twirl. You laugh softly, the sound echoing in the room loud enough for everyone outside to hear. Your movements are fluid and seamless against each other, and it’s starting to make Renjun feel sick.  
What dance lesson requires the instructor to twirl and dip the student?
Shotaro's grin is infectious as he spins you around, and you giggle in response. Renjun’s not stupid - he can see the chemistry, the easy camaraderie that exists between the two of you, but that doesn’t mean he has to like it. 
As Renjun's eyes fixate on the scene inside the practice room, he scoffs tonguing the inside of his cheek. Chenle follows his gaze and smiles, an idea popping into his head. He lets out a low whistle. "Damn, they're really going for it, huh?"
Renjun clenches his jaw, trying to tamp down the surge of irritation. "Yeah, well, they're just rehearsing," he mutters dismissively. 
“Just rehearsing? We don’t rehearse like that,” Chenle counters, a mischievous glint in his eye.
Renjun looks up at him with a scowl. He doesn’t know what’s worse, what’s going on in front of him or the irritating little man next to him who seemingly loves poking the already angry bear. He can practically feel the amusement radiating off his friend as if he's revelling in his torment. It's infuriating, but Renjun knows he can't let it get to him. Instead, he focuses back on the glass, his jaw clenched tight as he watches Shotaro's infectious grin and your giggles echo through the room.
“Taro’s cool, I’m sure if you asked him to stop dancing with Y/N he would,” Chenle suggests. 
But Renjun's got more pride than that. He's just about able to handle the teasing from his friends about his jealousy, and he knows that telling Taro to back off would only add fuel to the fire of ridicule. And he's not sure if he's ready to deal with that.
“I don’t mind Y/N and him dancing together,” he shrugs.
Chenle’s face falls flat, “Huang Renjun don’t lie to me. You’re jealous.”
“No, I’m not!” His voice raises to an audio level that’s louder than he would like, gaining the attention of some of the other members outside the room.
"Hey, man, look I’m sorry, but it's okay to feel jealous. You two dated for a long time,” Chenle pats him on the shoulder gently. “Honestley I’m shocked the two of you even broke up.”
So is Renjun - even though he knows he was the one who initiated it. Honestly, there was no good reason for your breakup now that he thinks about it - now that he sees you with someone else. The reason behind the breakup stemmed from Renjun’s growing anxiety that being an idol would force distance between the two of you. You had assured him it wouldn’t, and you knew what you were getting into when you agreed to be his girlfriend; still, Renjun figured separation would be the best despite your protests. 
He sighs, feeling a mix of frustration and gratitude for Chenle's understanding. "I know, it's just..." He trails off. He doesn’t know how to properly articulate what he’s feeling without sounding like a hypocrite.
Still, Chenle nods sympathetically. "Just give yourself some time, Renjun. It'll get easier."
Renjun offers a weak smile in response before turning back to the glass. He doesn’t have his phone in his hand to ‘distract’ him now so he has to watch the scene in front of him, and his heart sinks.
He doesn’t even know how it happened, one minute the two of you are just laughing together, then he turns to talk to Chenle for another and as he turns back to you, Shotaro's hand gently cups your cheek, his thumb caressing your skin with a tender touch. Your eyes flutter closed, a soft sigh escaping your lips as you lean into his touch, your bodies inching closer.
He can't tear his eyes away, the sight before him a painful reminder of what once was and what now feels so out of reach. Renjun's fists clench at his sides, his nails digging into his palms as he struggles to contain himself.
It's not just the physical proximity that stings, but the undeniable chemistry between you and Shotaro that Renjun just can't ignore. The way your laughter intertwines with his, the way your eyes lock - it's like a dagger to his heart, reopening wounds he thought had healed.
But just as your lips are about to meet, Renjun's up on his feet and barging through the practice room door without a knock. 
"Alright, rehearsal time's over," he announces, his tone clipped and authoritative as he strides into the room.
Shotaro immediately pulls away from you, glancing at Renjun, who responds with a scowl. Despite the tension, Renjun can't help but feel a sense of relief as the two of you separate.
"Hyung, we've still got fifteen minutes—"
"We need to start early today, gotta prep for the comeback and all," he interrupts.
Renjun's gaze shifts to you. You're shaking your head at him, hands on your hips, your midriff exposed and glistening with a thin sheen of sweat. It brings back memories of all the times he's fucked you in this very practice room. Apart from the physical closeness, the fact that Shotaro got to witness you like this - sweaty and out of breath -  infuriates him.
“That’s not fair Jun, we booked this room for the full hour, you can’t just barge in like this!” You argue with him, but Renjun can’t even take in anything you’re saying because even after your months apart, you still use that nickname for him. 
Shotaro snaps him back to attention, “It’s fine, Y/N, we can reschedule for next week.”
Like hell you will, Renjun thinks.
You narrow your eyes at your ex-boyfriend before scoffing and heading for your dance bag, tossing it on your shoulder and heading to the exit. You make sure to slam your shoulder into his body as you pass him, muttering how much you hate him under your breath. 
Shotaro’s about to follow your lead, hoisting his own bag over his shoulder, but Renjun stops him in his tracks.
“Taro, can I talk to you for a sec?” 
Shotaro nods, slinging his bag back down but pausing by the door. 
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Taro 1:25 pm
Sorry Y/N, I won’t be able to help you with your
rehearsals anymore, something’s come up. 
There’s just no way. You look down at the text message, confused. 
Shotaro loves dancing, he loves teaching people choreography and helping them improve, so you know there’s no possible way he’d cancel your sessions like this with no word of rescheduling. Glancing at the time on your phone, you realize it's Wednesday afternoon - around the time Shotaro usually finishes his dance practices with his group. With a furrowed brow, you decide to head over to the practice rooms to ask him about it.
After all, you liked Taro and his teaching methods. 
As you approach the practice rooms, the faint strains of music drift through the hallway, accompanied by a few stops and restarts. Finally, you reach the room where Riize is rehearsing. The door stands slightly ajar, and you pause, opting to linger and peer through the glass instead. Inside, you see them all - sweaty and breathless, a clear sign that they've reached the end of their session.
You're about to knock on the door when you hear Anton's voice from inside. "Taro, are you eating with us today, or are you practising with Y/N again?"
“I’m not helping Y/N out anymore,” he replies and you deflate a little. 
“Why? I thought you liked dancing with her.”
Shotaro groans audibly, then passes his water bottle to Eunseok, who starts chuckling.
“What’s funny?” Anton asks.
“Hasn’t he told you?” Eunseok interjects, casting a glance between them, “Taro loves dancing with Y/N, but last week Renjun made it known that he’s not too keen on it.”
Anton’s face channels your own, because what the fuck did that mean?
You look down at the text message again, and now that you look at it, it only has one person written all over it. 
You know your ex-boyfriend better than anyone, and just from the way he crashed your practice last week, you could tell that the dance rehearsals with his old group member were getting under his skin. You won’t lie, there’s a part of you that liked the idea of irritating him, riling him up now and then just to be reminded that he still cared. But you’d never think he’d go this far. 
“It’s true,” Shotaro confirms, “Last week he told me to hang back after one of our practices, and he asked me to…” he clams up abruptly when he sees you standing in the doorway, arms folded tight across your chest. 
“He asked you to what?”
Shotaro doesn’t answer. The laughter between the boys suddenly runs quiet as you all just look at each other. 
“Finish that sentence, Taro.”
He groans and runs a hand through his hair, “Y/N, come on, he told me not to say anything—”
“Tell me what he said to you, he doesn’t just get to make demands about me anymore.”
“It wasn’t exactly a demand…” he mumbles, “More of a request.”
You give him a knowing look, “I swear to God if you don’t tell me what you know right now Shotaro, I’ll—”
“Okay, okay,” he interrupts, “I’ll tell you.”
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Around half an hour after grilling Shotaro and his group members for the truth, you burst through the practice room of NCT DREAM. The air is hot and humid, and it only channels the fury that’s built up in your muscles since finding out about your ex-boyfriend’s silly little plan. Huang Renjun has officially crossed the line and there’s no way on this Earth you’re going to let him get away with it without a lecture.
The boys all look a mixture of shocked and surprised to see you. And you don’t blame them, the last time you were in a practice with them, you were happy, probably bringing your boyfriend lunch to make sure he’d eaten. But this time you’re angry, so angry you’re body is trembling.
“Huang Renjun!”
He turns around almost instantly, and instead of looking scared about your anger, he fucking smirks with that stupid beautiful smile you hate (love).
“Y/N?” He responds innocently, though there's a glint of mischief in his eyes that tells you he's well aware of the storm about to be unleashed upon him.
As you and Renjun lock eyes, a heavy silence descends upon the room, punctuated only by the sound of your breathing. Mark, ever perceptive, notices the tension crackling between you, and like a good leader he senses the need to diffuse the situation. 
"Alright, everyone," he interjects, his voice firm yet soothing. "Let's take a break, yeah?"
Because of Mark's intervention, the boys nod in agreement, gathering their belongings and exchanging knowing glances and whispers as they file out of the practice room one by one.
With the others now gone, you waste no time laying into him, “What is the matter with you?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he shrugs. 
You scoff, frustration bubbling up inside you. "Don’t pull that clueless shit with me. He told me what you did!”
His facade cracks ever so slightly, a flicker of uncertainty crosses his features before he quickly masks it with a defiant smirk. "And what exactly do you think I did?"
"Oh, don't play dumb," you snap, advancing towards him with each step. "You told Shotaro to cancel our dance lessons, didn't you?"
Renjun's expression remains infuriatingly neutral, but there's a glint of defiance in his eyes that sets your blood boiling even more. "And if I did?"
The audacity of his response only serves to fuel your rage. "Do you have any idea how selfish and manipulative that is?" You accuse, your voice rising with each word. "You have no right to interfere with my life anymore!"
He doesn’t look at all remorseful as he shrugs, “I’m not interfering in your life, I just figured Shotaro shouldn’t overflow his schedule.”
You shake your head in disbelief, “You’re unbelievable. That’s not your call to make. You’ve never had a problem with Shotaro teaching anybody else to dance until me.”
“That was before Riize debuted, it’s different now Y/N.”
“No, it’s not fair!” You snap, “You’re not being fair.”
“I’m just looking out for Taro…as his senior.”
“No, you’re not, you’re doing this to piss me off!” You groan, “So I’m asking you why?”
Renjun clings to the last shred of his pride, attempting to brush past you to grab his water bottle, hoping to deflect the conversation elsewhere. But you weren't about to let him off that easily. You reach out and grab his hand as he tries to slip past.
Your eyes plead with him, and he cracks under the weight of your gaze.
"What do you want me to say, Y/N?" He finally erupts, his voice rising in frustration. "You want me to admit that I'm fucking jealous, that I can't stand the thought of him with you?"
“What, if you can’t have me no one else can?”
He goes quiet at that and just looks at you, the silence speaks a thousand words and you can’t believe his audacity right now. 
With a heavy sigh, you run a hand through your hair, exhaustion creeping in. "You broke up with me," you remind him, your voice barely above a whisper.
Renjun's expression softens for a fleeting moment, a trace of remorse flickering in his eyes before it's replaced. "I know," he admits. "But that doesn't mean I stopped caring about you."
You take a step back, his words hitting you harder than you expected. "Caring about me doesn't give you the right to meddle in my life.”
He reaches out tentatively, his hand hovering in the air between you as if unsure whether to touch you or not. "I messed up, okay? It’s just, I don’t like the way he touches you. I guess…I let my jealousy get the best of me."
"Jealousy?" You repeat. "After everything that's happened between us, you're still jealous?"
Renjun's gaze drops to the floor, unable to meet yours. "I can't help it," he admits, his voice barely audible. "Seeing you with him, it just... it drives me crazy."
You shake your head in disbelief, struggling to process his confession. "You broke up with me, Renjun. You made that choice."
"I know," he repeats, his voice filled with remorse. "And I regret it every day."
You're torn between anger and longing, resentment and yearning. Honestly, ever since he broke up with you there hasn’t been a day where you haven’t missed him. You’ve waited to hear him say those words - that he regrets leaving you - but you’re not about to make it easy for him to just crawl back. 
You narrow your eyes at him, a mischievous glint dancing in them as a sly smile tugs at the corners of your lips. "You know, Shotaro is a great dancer," you say, your tone deliberately casual.
Renjun's jaw clenches at the mention of the name, his gaze flickering with a mix of anger and insecurity. 
"It's been interesting to know he's always there for me now that you're not,” you say with a nonchalant shrug, enjoying the way his irritation simmers beneath the surface.
You watch as his hands clench into fists at his sides, his chest rising and falling with each aggravated breath. His eyes darken with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine, but you refuse to back down.
"It's almost as if he's filling a void that you left behind," you continue. "But I suppose that's just the way things go after a breakup, isn't it?"
The taunt hits its mark and Renjun's temper flares. In a sudden burst of rage, he closes the distance between you, his grip tightening on your shoulders as he presses you against the nearby mirror. His gaze turns possessive as he leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear. 
"You really think I'll let him have you like that so easily?” He asks, voice low and dangerous.
You shiver at the intensity of his words, feeling a rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins. "And what makes you think that’s your call to make?" 
A wicked smile tugs at Renjun's lips, his eyes gleaming with determination. "Because deep down, you know you’re still my girl," he asserts. "No matter how much you keep trying to deny it, you know you’re mine."
You scoff, trying to ignore the way his words resonate within you, "You can't just break up with me and then waltz back into my life claiming me as your own, Jun!" 
He smiles at the nickname again, and it gives him the confidence boost he needs to know you still want him, still crave him the way he craves you. 
"Oh but I can," he counters, his tone unwavering. He brings his finger to your cheek, tracing it along your skin until it rests underneath your chin. "Because no one else can make you feel the way I do. No one else knows you like I do."
His words send a shiver down your spine. All the good times you have with him replay in your mind and despite your best efforts to resist, you find yourself succumbing to the magnetic pull of his presence, to the familiarity of his touch.
"You’re fucking crazy babe if you think I’ll let some other man have you," he whispers. "Especially him.”
Your eyes narrow, he’s so close now that the two of you are practically sharing the same breath.
“And you’re fucking crazy if you think you have a say in my relationships.”
He remains unfazed at your rebuttal, his gaze unwavering as he leans in closer, his lips dangerously close to yours now. "Maybe I am," he concedes smugly. "But deep down, you know you still want me."
Part of you wants to push him away, to resist the pull of him, but another part - the part that still aches for his touch, for his love - finds itself surrendering.
"Renjun," you whisper, voice barely above a breath. "I..."
And before you can finish your sentence, his lips crash against yours in a heated, passionate kiss, his pent-up frustration and desire spilling over into the touch. It's a tumultuous mix of emotions - there’s still so much unresolved between the two of you - but you get lost in the moment. You melt into his embrace, and perhaps, just perhaps, being possessed by Renjun again isn't such a bad thing after all.
As the kiss deepens, your hands tangle themselves into his hair until it’s dishevelled and the lines between love and hate blur. It's a dangerous game you're playing, dancing on the razor's edge between desire and destruction, but right now you couldn't care less about the consequences. You can talk about all that later - after he fucks you. 
He pulls back for a breath, trailing kisses down from your lips to your neck, sending waves of pleasure rippling through your body.
"God, I've missed you," he whispers, his breath hot against your skin.
"I've missed you too," you gasp out as he starts to nibble on your earlobe.
He moves his hand up higher along your thigh until it reaches the hem of your shorts, and he wastes no time slipping his fingers inside them. “It’s been too long.”
You exhale as you feel his hand brush against the edge of your panties before slipping under them. He runs his hand through your folds as he looks at you with a predatory glint in his eyes before finding your clit. A soft moan escapes your lips as you move your hips instinctively towards him.
"You're so wet already," he murmurs as he starts to rub circles around your clit. “This all for me?”
You arch your back in pleasure, feeling a wave of heat surge through your body. You nod pathetically, not being able to form a coherent sentence because the familiar feeling of Renjun's touch makes you feel dizzy. He smirks at your reaction, then pulls out his hand making you whimper from the loss of friction. 
You know you’re fueling his ego with your whining, but you can’t help it. You hadn’t realised just how much you missed the feeling of his hands before they were being ripped away from you so abruptly. 
“You know, you never asked me for dance lessons when we were dating,” he says - almost accusatory -  between soft pants as his kisses return to your jaw, trailing down your neck. His hands slowly travel from your legs and past your waist, dancing along your exposed sides until his fingers are fiddling with the straps of your sports bra. 
You can’t stand his teasing, but if there’s one thing you’ve learned about sex with Renjun, it’s that you play by his rules.
“I know,” you remark, a little breathless.
“And I hated every time he would touch your skin, and how much it would make you laugh and smile,” he growls, gently nipping your neck and soothing the spot with his tongue. “I want all your fucking smiles, Y/N.”
You hold back a whimper as he sucks a small spot just beside your collarbone, a mark you know you’re going to have to cover tomorrow. 
“Seems quite selfish, Jun.”
“I guess I am when it comes to you.”
His fingers take off your bra, exposing your naked breasts to him. You gasp at the cool air making your nipples toughen. He looks up at you, his gaze dark and wild and sending a shot of pleasure straight through you. Not once does he break contact as his hands slide down your body, grazing your nipples until you shiver, and travel down until he is back at the hem of your shorts.
His fingers dance along your inner thighs before they trace along the hem of your panties. Your breath hitches as he skims along your clothed clit, not enough to be truly stimulating but enough to make you bite down in anticipation.
He knows you want more, but your impatience is his favourite part. 
So he doesn’t bother to hide his smirk as he wraps his fingers around your waistband and slowly tugs on your shorts and panties together, pushing them down until they pool at your ankles where you swiftly step out of them. 
The smile on his lips can only be described as feral. “So damn pretty,” he mumbles, “And it’s all mine, yeah?”
You smile as you shake your head. “Possessive much?”
“Maybe a little bit,” he smiles. “But don’t pretend that you haven’t missed that about me.”
“Bold of you to think I’ve missed things about you.”
He grins. “Deny it all you want babe, but the fact you’re the one naked right now speaks volumes.”
You blush at the revelation and the fact that he’s fully clothed whilst you’re bare. You turn your head to the side and mumble. “That doesn’t mean I missed you.”
"Oh?" He raises his eyebrow, his finger gently finding the underside of your jaw, tilting it to meet his gaze. His pupils are dilated, filled with a level of lust you didn’t even know was possible. “Then maybe I need to show you exactly what you’ve been missing.”
That’s when he finds himself dropping to his knees, his head dipping low enough to kiss up your thighs. You let out a small sigh as his lips latch onto your skin, nipping and sucking in the same way he used to do when he wanted to leave a trail of marks.
Your lip gets trapped between your teeth, and the cold from the mirror behind you lingers on your exposed back. You look down and wish you could see the look in his eyes right now, yearning to see the hungry glint as he’s between your thighs. You can’t help your nails from digging into his shoulders as you relax into his tantalizing kisses.
“Still so fucking responsive to me, aren’t you?” His words fan over your heated skin, his breath so close to your clit you can’t take much more.
“Don’t tease me, Junnie,” you breathe out. 
He laughs softly before pressing a gentle kiss against your clit, his tongue darting out to follow his lips. He can’t help but grin when he feels your nails digging deeper into his skin. His hands move to cup your ass, squeezing the flesh and basking in your moans. 
He loved it more than anything when his girl was always so vocal, he could get drunk off the sound. Especially when he knows it’s his tongue licking along your soaking cunt and was making you whine like that.
You’re like putty in his hands, breathless and barely able to form coherent sentences as he teases you. And before you can even whine for more, his insatiable need to taste you gets the best of him and one of your legs is being thrown over his shoulder so his face can nuzzle further against your cunt.
“Fuck,” he groans against you, the hum of his words vibrating against your clit. Your knees buckle under the sensation but the tight grip he has on your ass keeps you upright. “Still taste like fucking heaven.”
“Shit,” you moan before throwing your head back. 
“Only for me, right?” He mutters, ignoring your whine as he pulls himself away from your cunt to look up at you before adding a stern, “Answer me.” 
“Yes, yes.” You’re so needy right now that you don’t even care that it comes out in pants. “Only you.”
“That’s right, no one gets to taste this cunt but me,” he grits through clenched teeth. “You’re mine, every fucking part of you.”
He savours the way your cheeks burn red as you nod vigorously in agreement. His mouth finds your pussy again, and now that he has your omission, he doesn’t bother holding back. He loves the way your eyes flutter shut, and the shameless moans escaping your lips as he devours you like you're the last thing he’ll ever taste - he’s certain it will be the last pussy he’ll ever taste.
You can barely think as his fingers run up and down your thighs, slowly travelling up until his thumb is pressing slow, torturous circles on your clit as his tongue dives inside you, lapping and rolling. His teasing along with the fast tempo of his tongue makes your hips rock subconsciously against his face. 
“Please, please, please.” 
The words are a shameless plea, and you can’t help it because he has your legs physically shaking.
“Cum for me, baby. Be a good girl for me and cum on my tongue.”
The simple words of praise are enough for your body to be hit with a strong wave of pleasure. Your muscles tense, your body shakes, and your thighs run wet and slick with a mix of your release and his spit. The room is only filled with pants and you feel a few soft kisses being placed along your thighs. 
Seconds later, his face, plastered with a very smug smile, appears in your line of sight. You notice how his lips and chin glisten; you didn’t think it was possible but you grow even more wet at the sight.
“I’ve missed making you cum.” 
You can’t help the huff of laughter that escapes you. “I guess I’ve missed you being the one making me cum.”
“You guess?”
“I know,” you correct, “I know I’ve missed you being the one making me cum.” You bite down on your lower lip. “Starting to think I should have more dance lessons with Shotaro to make you jealous more often.”
His eyes instantly darken. “That’s not even funny.”
Your smirk widens, “It is a little bit.”
“You think mentioning another man’s name after I’ve just made you cum with my tongue is funny?” He asks, and his hands find their way to tighten on your waist. “Did I not make you cum hard enough if you’re struggling to remember who you belong to?”
You’re amused by his comment, nail lightly trailing along his lower lip before he playfully nips it. “I don’t belong to you anymore.”
He shakes his head with a tut, “Stop it, you know you belong to me, just as I belong to you. Always have, always will.”
“You must’ve been really intimidated by Shotaro to be this possessive right now,” you tease.
“Doesn’t matter though does it?” He squeezes your waist tighter. “Because Shotaro wouldn’t stand a fucking chance against me. He doesn’t know your body like I do.”
Your breath hitches, hands gripping his shoulders. “He could learn.”
The muscles in his jaw flex and his eyes sharpen, “Not a chance.”
His lips tease along your jaw, and he grins when you move your head to the side to give him better access. “You think he could make you cum like I do? Think he’d know how to make you scream like you do for me?”
The grip he has on your hips is a mixture of pain and pleasure. You feel him smile against your skin when his lips kiss over the developing mark on your collarbone, already starting to turn purple, from earlier. 
Then, without warning, he’s flipping you around and pressing you against the cold glass of the mirror. The plush flesh of your tits flatten against it along with your hands, making you gasp. He’s quick to find your ear, nibbling at it before whispering. 
“He’d never get the chance to even look at this pussy.”
“Fuck, Jun,” you squirm.
You know you’ve hit a nerve when you see his reflection toying with the drawstring of his sweatpants, tugging them down along with his boxers with one hand still on your hip. 
It’s clear as day that he wants to claim what was his, and you’re more than happy to let him do so. Because the look of determination bordering on something more territorial sends a thrill through you. 
You can see everything in this position, from the way he has you firm in his grip, to the way he’s slowly stripping from his own set of clothes. You watch as he grabs the flesh of your ass and squeezes it. And he can see you too, your flushed-out expression. 
“Bet Shotaro doesn’t know you like watching yourself get fucked out, huh?”
You exhale deeply, making his smirk grow as he runs his hands along your skin, slowly venturing to lightly tease along your slit. 
“And he’ll never get to know. Isn’t that right?”
Your eyes don’t leave his through the glass, “I don’t know,” you tease, “Maybe you should give me a good enough reason to make sure he never gets to know.”
You watch as he leans closer to you, his back slowly covering yours as he kisses against the nape of your neck. His cock head is teasing your entrance, sliding up and down your cunt tormentingly. 
“You know I love a challenge babe.”
He doesn’t even give you a beat to throw a snarky remark back at him because he finally thrust into you, deep and thick and just the perfect fucking  fit. Your eyes roll, matched by the guttural moan he lets vibrate beside your ear as you clench around him, listening to the small list of curses he lets slip past his lips.
“Already squeezing around my cock, huh?” He hisses through tight teeth, hands tangling in your hair and giving a sharp tug so your eyes snap open. “Eyes on me. I want you to see how much you fucking missed my cock.”
Your eyes are weak and hooded and your skin is flushed. You so desperately want to flutter them closed, but not more than you want to obey his command. So, you open them hazily and Renjun can’t get enough of it - enough of you. 
The way you let out cute, little whimpers with every thrust; the way your hands clench into fists against the mirror as he pounds into you from behind, his tempo unforgiving and merciless. The way his hand tangles in your hair to tug you close enough that your back is pressed against his chest. The way your own chest is heaving up and down, hips wiggling against his. 
He watches as your fist unclenches and comes to cover your mouth in a feeble attempt to hide your moans – that won’t do, he thinks.
“Don’t you dare hide those moans from me,” his voice may be breathy but it’s still commanding. The hand not in your hair snakes around your body so he can cup your tit. “I haven’t heard them for months, so don’t hide them from me.”
“And whose fault is that?” You counter, followed by soft whimpers as he squeezes your breasts.
“Stop reminding me.”
He rolls his eyes as his hand travels down the plain of your stomach, until his fingers reach the sensitive nub between your thighs, making you press your lips together.
The pace of his thrusts - deliberately harsh and sharp to entice moans from you - has you biting down on your lower lip.
“Look at yourself baby,” his breath fans over your heated skin. “So fucking pretty. All wrecked out for me.”
Your hair is tangled, wild and messy, and your thighs slick. It’s the hundredth time your body has begun shaken with desperation for his touch and - well -  you just look so damn needy. 
But who can blame you? Huang Renjun makes you feel things that no other person has. He hits spots so deep inside you, spots you didn’t even know existed. He is just not like anyone else and you love that he was all yours and you were all his.
And just when you think you couldn’t become more of a mess, the muffled words he speaks in your ear as he fucks into you are filthy enough to have you tittering on the edge. 
“Junnie!”
Your orgasm comes crashing down. Hot pleasure rushes through your veins and then throughout your whole body. Your hand reaches behind you to cling onto him like a lifeline, nails digging into his skin as he fucks you through his own release. Your head feels fuzzy with the feeling of his cock driving in and out of you along with his moans – especially when he lands one last final sharp thrust inside of your cunt. 
He holds your body close to his for a moment, letting the seconds pass as his mouth plants kisses messily against your shoulder. You shudder when you feel him pull out of you slowly, and then you feel his wet sticky cum dripping down your thigh. 
He grabs for your panties, which have been disregarded somewhere in the room, and starts to wipe off the cum on your skin. It doesn’t even register in your mind what he’s doing until you properly look at him in the mirror.
You try to pull away from him, but his hand finds your hip and holds you in place. “Renjun! I need to put those back on!” 
“Your point?”
You shake your head and look at him through the mirror, “I have rehearsals and my panties are going to be sticky from your cum.”
He smirks smugly, almost excited at the idea of you having rehearsals. He stands back to his feet holding your panties out for you to take. 
“Good,” he shrugs, “That way if Shotaro wants to try anything, he knows you already belong to someone.”
You scoff and take the panties from his hand, slipping them past your ass with a roll of your eyes. You both find the rest of your clothes, dressing yourselves quickly.  Honestly, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t slightly aroused at the idea of you wearing panties filled with his cum during a rehearsal. 
“Jealousy isn’t a good look on you, you know.”
“I don’t know about that one,” he gives you a shrug, then pulls you closer to him by your hand. “It helped me get to fuck you again didn’t it?”
You snort, “That’s your takeaway from all of this?”
He’s about to say something cocky, you know it, but he’s interrupted by a pounding at the door. 
“Are you two done fucking in there so we can get back to our dance practice?!” Haechan shouts and you hear utters from the others telling him to shut up. Renjun groans a series of curses as his friend’s voice starts complaining. 
“Give me a second will you?!” He yells back. 
“Seriously how long does it take to have makeup sex?”
“Shut it, Haechan!”
You can’t help the laughter and amusement in your expression as Renjun turns from the door to face you. 
“Is that what this was? Makeup sex?” You ask.
This time when he pulls your arm into him he wraps his hand around your waist, hovering right before your lips. “You know it was. How many more times do I need to tell you I’ve missed you for you to realize you’ll always be my girl?”
“Hmmm, maybe a couple more times.” You tease, and then your words soon morph into giggles as he nuzzles against your neck, right where he knows you're ticklish.
“Then I fucking miss you. A lot.”
104 notes · View notes
peachhcs · 2 days
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i was wondering how sam starts to fall and relize that will is worth t her risk? because i know they went on the one date
the 3 times samy's confused about her feelings and the 1 time she isn't
hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)
samy's afraid to date her best friend in fear of ruining everything, so she spends the entire summer trying to understand her feelings until it finally all clicks.
4k words
wow! my longest fic ever for this series. i loved, loved loved writing this and i'm planning on doing a similar type of style to this soon so stayed tune for that! as always, keep sending in requests, they're so fun to write :)
au masterlist
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ONE
sitting at the kitchen island while ellen helped curl samy's hair, the girl's stomach churned into knots for some reason. she was so so excited for senior prom, but her anxiety wouldn't shake. something was tipping the youngest hughes off her balance, but she just couldn't put her finger on it. luke and her mom must've been taking notice of her unusual silence because the girl hadn't stopped talking about prom all week.
"your hair's gonna look so beautiful with these curls," ellen gushed, breaking the silence in the kitchen.
"you think so?" samy wondered quietly, hands fidgeting in her lap.
"oh for sure. i just know you and will are gonna look so amazing," the older woman continued while samy's stomach twisted into knots again hearing her best friend's name.
luke, who stood a few feet away, picked up on his sister's quietness again. he studied her face, gears turning in his brain, the pieces in his head slowly falling together that answered her sudden shyness.
"i think it's so nice you and your friends are bringing some of the guys. i really think they'll have fun even if they don't say it," ellen continued.
samy briefly nodded, her mind stuck on will. "yeah, it will be fun," her eyes met luke's across the way and because they were siblings, he instantly read her gaze.
samy's friends were the ones who brought up the idea about her bringing will to prom. the brunette didn't have a lot of options considering she didn't like many of the other guys at her school. marley suggested "the hot hockey friend" (her words) and everyone else immediately agreed.
sure, they teased samy about will before and always went on about how hot him and his friends were, but the girl never looked past that. she never gave it a second thought until now.
the days leading up to prom have left serious anxious butterflies in samy's stomach for reasons she didn't quite understand completely. her and will texted back and forth like they usually did, but something felt different. there was something different that the brunette couldn't put her finger on it and the more she thought about it, the more she thought about her friend's teasing remarks and the boys' teasing remarks anytime they all hung out.
"okay, i'm gonna let these set for a minute before we start doing anything else," ellen decided as she shut the curling iron off and disappeared out of the room.
the hughes sibling code was that you never brought up anything around the parents you wanted to discuss, so luke shifted himself closer to his sister once their mom was out of earshot. samy met his wondering gaze.
"what's up?" luke asked in a near whisper.
"what?" for a moment samy played dumb. she feared her little bubble of anxiety was coming off as too noticeable.
"you look nervous. like way more nervous than before," the middle hughes casually pointed out. his sister's face flushed.
"i'm not."
"really?" luke didn't believe her. not even for a second. he grew up with her, so he knew every single one of her quirks making it impossible to hide them.
"yeah?" she toyed with her fingers and avoided eye contact—a dead giveaway for the older boy.
"samantha," luke using her full name meant he was being seriousness and wanted her to be serious too.
"i'm just like kind of freaking out and i don't know why," the youngest hughes finally admitted.
the boy raised his eyebrow, "what do you mean by freaking out?"
"like..there's these butterflies in my stomach and my heart won't stop racing," samy tried her best explaining.
"are you nervous for prom?" luke wondered.
"i-i don't know..maybe? i just..it feels weird," words weren't coming easy to the girl. she looked away, feeling embarrassed that she was even feeling this way.
the middle hughes hesitated for a second, thinking back to a few minutes ago when he noticed how his sister grew quiet at the mention of will's name. "does it have anything to do with will?"
the girl's face blushed around the edges, "that's the problem. i think so, but i-i don't really know."
"i mean you're just going as friends. it doesn't mean anything," luke shrugged until he saw his sister's gaze again and something in his expression shifted. "or does it?"
"i don't know," samy nearly whispered.
her brother finally understood what she was trying to say.
"do you want it to mean something?" luke asked.
"i-i wanna say yes..my heart wants me to, but..my head is confusing me. i don't know why i feel like this about will," she looked at luke as if he had all the answers for her.
"it sounds like you may have..feelings for him? or you're starting to?" his words made the girl's stomach drop. feelings?
"feelings?" her thoughts slipped out of her mouth.
"maybe?"
that didn't make samy feel any better than before. luke quickly cut in when he saw her expression drop, "that's not a bad thing. i had a small inkling."
"inkling? will's my best friend..he's like another brother to me. i-i can't have feelings for him," the girl looked over at luke who only shrugged.
"i dunno, just something to think about. you seemed anxious when mom mentioned him and you aren't usually."
"something about this just feels really different and i..i can't understand why. or maybe i do and i don't wanna believe it," samy mumbled the last part.
"is it a bad thing to like him or something?" luke crossed his arms as he drew back off the counter.
"i mean..no. it's not. i just..he's my best friend. that's all i've ever seen him as. i don't know why things suddenly feel so different," samy admitted.
"i get it. just..see how the night goes? see what happens? for all he knows, it's just a friends thing," the middle hughes tried reassuring her. all samy could do was nod and take some deep breaths to ease the racing thoughts.
TWO
the excitement finally started dying down around two in the morning. people drifted back towards their rooms as sleep filled their eyes knowing their hangovers would be pretty killer in the morning. the youngest hughes lingered in the conference room just taking in the scene of what was once a packed room while everyone congratulated the boys on their drafts.
her parents retired hours ago and the older hughes brothers were somewhere in the building either asleep or continuing the party in a smaller room. it was just her in there staring blankly at one of the walls lost in thought until one of the doors cracked open.
"found her," gabe's voice broke the silence. samy's gaze slid to his as he slowly shuffled closer towards her. ryan wasn't far behind.
"you okay?" the darker-haired boy wondered when he got closer. "we've been looking for you."
"oh, yeah. i'm good," samy nodded as gabe plopped onto the couch with ryan on her other side.
"smitty passed out upstairs in the room. no way he was waking up," ryan laughed briefly. samy pictured the blonde in her head and it brought a soft smile to her lips.
"did he tell you?" she asked the two boys. both of them raised their eyebrow like they didn't know what she was talking about.
"tell us what?" ryan wondered, both of their gazes shifting over to the girl between them.
a small flush spread across her cheeks. she for sure thought will would tell them as soon as he got the chance considering how much they were always teasing him for it.
"he..he uh..we kissed," samy mumbled quietly.
gabe and ryan's smiles grew into the widest and biggest the brunette's ever seen them besides when they scored goals during a game. 
"fucking finally! when did that happen??" gabe exclaimed.
"we finally caught each other in the crowd. we went into the hallway and i guess everything just..spilled out," samy explained what the two missed.
"so what? you're boyfriend girlfriend now?" ryan nudged her arm, a large smirk on his lips knowing the guys owed him now.
"uh..no.."
"no?" ryan and gabe exchanged a curious and confused glance. the brunette's gaze fell away from them as she toyed with her fingers.
"we're just gonna like go on dates and see how it goes and if it goes to shit then that's okay and nothing is ruined between us," she shrugged some.
"i don't get it," gabe said.
"it's like a grace period. we go on dates just to see how we'd be in a relationship and if we aren't good, then it's like nothing happened," she saw their glances and for some reason neither of them made her feel good.
"but you guys like each other..so wouldn't that like..not make sense if you don't decide to be official but you still like each other?" ryan raised his eyebrow.
"maybe..but i dunno. just scared," samy's voice softened out which immediately made gabe and ryan's expressions soften too.
"scared? of what? will? he's your best friend," ryan almost laughed before knowing that wouldn't be the right move.
"that's the problem. he's my best friend."
"i'm lost again," gabe's confusion earned a playful eye roll from the youngest hughes.
"i've known will since we were babies. all i've ever known him is a best friend. a brother. these feelings are still new to me and..i'm still scared. i'm scared that it won't work between us and we ruin everything we've ever had," samy's confession had her own heart clenching in tight knots. that familiar feeling of anxiety returned anytime she thought about her feelings for will.
"hey, i get it. when julianne and i started dating i was scared too. she was a really good friend of mine and i didn't wanna ruin that. i mean..we know will, you probably know him better than us, but he's not like that. he'd do anything for you samy," ryan touched her arm, giving it a gentle squeeze while gabe nodded in agreement. a soft smile replaced the small frown on her lips.
she knew when ryan called her samy and not hughesy, he was being genuine.
"i mean, you should've seen him back in october and before he even realized he liked you like that. he'd never do anything to hurt you or put himself in a position to lose you," gabe added.
"i know it's hard to shake the jerky hockey guy persona, but trust me when i say will is far from that. you know that. if you called him needing something, he'd drop everything for you. i know he really, really wants this to work out between you guys," ryan grinned wider.
luckily, the boys' words eased some of the anxiety building in samy's stomach. she hooked her arm around ryan's, giving it a loving squeeze.
"when did you guys become so good at giving advice? i swear you were teasing me two days ago," her words made the three of them laugh.
"i guess we're growing up, huh? we're not kids anymore," gabe's eyes drifted across samy and ryan's glances.
"i'm really proud of you two. i'm gonna miss you being in michigan with me this fall," she ruffled up both of their hairs making them squirm away.
"i can't believe it's already over. went too fast," ryan hummed, leaning back into the couch.
"you can say that again. i can't believe boston's in two months," a sad smile appeared on gabe's lips.
the idea of her best friends being miles away from her made samy's stomach twist into more knots. she lived for moments like these where the late hours made them vulnerable and anything tumbled out of their lips into the open air. these moments wouldn't happen anymore when the boys headed to botson. everything was changing soon and samy wasn't sure how big of a fan she was of all of it—especially trying to navigate her feelings for someone she cared deeply about.
THREE.
samy's heart hammered against her chest with each step she took onto her front porch. one step matched the thud of her heart and the blush rising to the tips of her ears. will's heavier footsteps weren't far behind, insisting that he walked her to the door to make sure she made it in safely.
all of these little gestures were so new to them. samy was so used to the blonde flying out the door passed her after her brothers in an attempt keep up with them. sometimes he'd even knock into her accompanied with a weak apology as he passed through. having him walk her to the house was entirely new territory in their relationship.
the brunette slowly spun on her heel, instantly finding will's gaze already on her. a soft smile sat on his lips as his eyes darted between her own. his shoulder fell against the one of the support beams, hands slipping into his pockets trying to act casual despite the pounding in his ears.
"i had a lot of fun. thank you, again," samy broke the silence first.
"yeah, me too. it was really fun," will agreed.
everything about them standing inches away from the front door where her parents and brothers were on the other side made samy feel like she was in high school again after a first date. the giddy smiles; the racing heartbeats; the awkward waiting and deciding if a kiss goodbye was appropriate while wondering if the older boys were watching them from an unknown location. 
"next time you should show me around plymouth," the girl teased slightly earning a blush across will's cheeks.
"you haven't seen all of it already?"
the girl smiled, but shook her head, "no, not really. i'd love to get your take on it."
"noted. i'll have to come up with an itinerary for us then."
the two shared a loving smile. samy noticed the way will's gaze briefly flicked down to her lips and the action made her heart flutter.
she decided to help him out by slowly inching closer, the small gap between them quickly closing. will caught on fairly fast. his hand slid onto her cheek, directing her chin upwards to meet his soft lips while samy hoped he couldn't feel her rapid heartbeat beneath his palm. 
the blonde used his other hand to wrap around her hip, tugging her impossibly closer while samy's danced through his hair and clutched his shirt. the kiss had both of their heads spinning until they finally pulled apart.
"see you tomorrow at the game?" will whispered with kiss-swollen lips.
the smile he loved spread across samy's own kiss-swollen lips as she nodded, "i'd never miss it."
he reluctantly let her go, watching as the brunette disappeared back into her house. the smile never disappeared from will's face the entire drive back to plymouth.
inside, samy leaned against the door just taking in the entire date. her eyes sparkled, replaying the way will's lips felt against her own—how passionate and sweet he was.
her high continued as she shuffled into the living room where all of her brothers were still awake watching the tv. they quickly met her gaze and the lovestruck expression dancing across her features.
"someone's smiley,"  jack commented in amusement, turning the volume down a few notches.
"maybe it's too early to say this, but i really think it's gonna work out between us. at least, i really hope it does."
the three brothers exchanged a brief glance. they had never heard their little sister talk that way about someone before—not after a first date. all three of their chests warmed seeing their baby sister look so happy despite them never admitting it. 
"that good, huh?" jack smirked some. samy nodded, joining them on the couch for a few moments before going upstairs.
"he's so perfect. he did everything right and..i just.." the youngest hughes trailed off for a moment while her brothers watched her expression slightly fade.
"i sense a but coming," quinn commented. samy met their gazes briefly before looking away.
"not a bad but..i just..i've never felt this way about someone before. my chest..it feels so..so full. it scares me," the girl didn't know how to explain what she was feeling nor was she sure if her brothers would even understand.
samy's words brought luke back to the conversation they shared a few months ago as the youngest sibling got ready for prom. he remembered how nervous she was—how unsure she seemed of it all. 
"remember prom?" luke wondered, meeting his sister's wandering gaze. 
"what about it?" 
"remember how scared you were then too but because you were unsure about the feelings you had for will because of how new they were?" the siblings didn't know where luke was taking the conversation, but they waited for him to go on. 
"now it seems like you're scared because of how you feel. you're not unsure anymore. you know how you feel for will, but it's scaring you," samy glanced at jack and quinn, getting lost in what luke was trying to say. 
"you're losing me," she said. 
"i think being scared of how much you like someone because you've never felt such strong emotions before is all the more reason to fall for them. to go all in," the curly-haired boy shrugged. 
in luke's weird, roundabout explanation, it somehow made sense to samy. she smiled briefly, letting her brother's words really sink in. 
"plus, we've seen the way he is around you. i don't think someone would act the way he does if he didn't really wanna be with you," quinn mentioned. 
samy decided to sleep on her brother's advice, hoping something would give her the sign that going all in with will wouldn't be a choice she regretted. 
THE 1 TIME
goodbyes were never easy. the cooler breeze of august mornings meant the end of summer. june bled into july. july bled into august. august marked the start of a new chapter, but the end of a really good one. the boys' usntdp years were over and all of them were once again packing up their lives to move out to boston to start something new and a bit unknown. samy sat in her childhood bedroom picking out the best memories to bring to college with her. 
even though she'd only be minutes away, heading to college was something the girl thought was still months away. sitting on the floor stuffing clothes and knickknacks into boxes brought a small line of tears into her eyes as august continued slipping away. 
on one of her freer days where she wasn't busy packing her own life away, samy drove up to plymouth to help the boys. it was also an excuse to see them more before they all left. 
she sat in will's room watching him sort his things into boxes attempting to hold herself together for the sake of both of them. if one them cried, then both of them would. her fingers clasped around some picture frames waiting to be wrapped. a smile spread across her lips when she saw what picture was inside. 
"i've never seen this picture before," the girl commented, casting her gaze towards her boyfriend. will's eyes flicked up, crinkling around the edges when he saw what photo. 
"i think it's from like a few years ago. you were at the game and mom wanted a picture," the blonde smiled briefly. 
the two looked awfully young. maybe fourteen or fifteen? will was still dressed in his hockey gear, helmet and stick in one hand with the other wrapped around samy's waist. he must've hit his growth spurt that year because he stood a good few inches above the brunette and samy knew she was always taller than him until he started growing more. the camera definitely captured the joy because of how wide each of their smiles were. 
"it's really cute. are you gonna put it up in your dorm?" samy teased a little. 
"yeah, probably. it's one of my favorites of us," will's response caught her off guard for some reason. 
her boyfriend had his back to her, so he didn't see the longing gaze. when her eyes finally left him and returned the the pictures again, she began realizing just how many were of her and him. the past two years samy hardly noticed what all of his framed pictures were. she just figured they were of family or him and his boys, not realizing over half of them included her smiling face. 
"you're taking all of these with you?" samy wondered a bit softly, referring to the picture frames still. 
will finally met her gaze again, not noticing the emotions coursing through her. "yeah, that's the plan. i don't know where i'll put all of them, but maybe i'll take them out of the frame and put them on the photo wall instead if they don't all fit somewhere," the blonde explained with a brief grin. 
the boy finally noticed samy's sudden quietness and her soft expression. he approached her, pushing some of her hair behind her ear, "you okay?" 
"oh, yeah, yeah. sorry. getting sentimental looking at all of these photos," the girl mumbled out a small lie. she didn't quite know how to put what she was currently feeling into words or how she felt so loved that will wanted to display her everywhere in whatever room he was in. 
"i know. mom keeps showing me all of these baby photos and finding things as we pack up," he rubbed the girl's arm before leaning in to place a gentle kiss to the side of her head. 
"i can't believe summer's already over," samy sunk onto the bed for a moment, eyes on the ground because if she looked at will she'd definitely start crying. 
"it went by way too fast. college came way too fast," the boy chuckled, finding a spot beside her. 
"boston's so lucky to have you, will. you're gonna do so great there," even though being over 600 miles away hurt, the girl knew how much will loved boston—dreaming of going there like everyone else in his family. 
"wish you were coming too," he took ahold of her hand, giving it a lot of kisses which made samy blush a deep crimson. 
"i know, but michigan's always called my name," the girl chuckled while thinking of quinn and luke. ever since she visited for the first time to watch quinn play, 12-year-old samy knew the university of michigan was where she would be one day. 
six years later, the girl was getting ready to move in and start her collegiate soccer career. 
"you know, gabe said he's not excited to live with me knowing how much i'm gonna call you everyday," will joked, trying to lighten the mood. 
in that moment, something in samy's head clicked. she finally looked over at her boyfriend and for the first time, she finally saw for herself that look everyone has told her he's looked at her with since they were kids. his blue eyes were nothing but orbs of a bright sparkle, entirely filled with nothing but love and adoration for the girl sitting beside him. 
"i'm gonna miss you a lot, hughesy. i wish i sucked up my pride and ego and told you how i felt a lot sooner," will admitted. 
his words exploded something inside of samy's chest. it was that feeling she's been scared of all summer, except this time, she wasn't scared anymore. she remembered luke's words about going all in when you felt something as strong as she felt. 
"me too. i wish i caught on sooner," the brunette chuckled, easing her forehead to rest against his. 
"i'm gonna call you every single day, watch every single one of your games, think about you all the time—" will's words quickly died in his throat when samy placed her lips on his. 
for the first time since the two admitted their feelings for one another, samy knew exactly how she felt about her best friend: in love. 
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bloompompom · 1 day
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LOVER BOY | MINI SERIES
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in which eren falls hard for you, his friend-with-benefits who insists she isn't looking for anything serious
PART ONE - all that glitters
⟡ content: eren jaeger x female reader, good old-fashioned college au, fwb-to-lovers, mutual pining/idiots in love, cheesy rom-com, smut fic with feelings, fluff, angst, sexual content, explicit language, alcohol, drunk sex. reader discretion advised. 18+ ⟡ word count: ~3k ⟡ masterlist (1/4) ⟡ a/n: writing has been a struggle but this came to me in a vision. i needed something easy and fun to get me back in the swing of things. enjoy ♡
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“Eren.”
You whined his name in that signature drunken way, with the last syllable drawn out and pronounced like a plea—as if pleading with him was ever necessary. 
“What’re you doing right now?” you asked. “D’you wanna fuck?”
No, not really. But Eren would make sure you made it back to your dorm room alive and as well as one could be after too many drinks. Still, he couldn’t deny how the back of his neck warmed at the offer. 
“Yeah,” he replied. “Where are you at?”
After the call ended, it was only a matter of seconds before his friends predictably started heckling him.
Connie hung his headset around his neck, shooting Eren this too-knowing look when he asked, “Lemme guess who that was.”
“How about you don’t?” Despite Eren’s flat affect, his words had a biting edge. He kept his head down as he shrugged his jacket over his shoulders. 
This wasn’t the first time Connie broached the subject, also known as you. Although it proved to be a sore spot for Eren, Connie didn’t plan to stop poking any time soon.
“Dude, she’s got you pussy-whipped,” he barked, “with a capital P, dude.”
“You said ‘dude’ twice,” Eren groused, hoping that would be the end of it. When the baiting look on Connie’s face didn’t let up, Eren felt compelled to defend himself. “I’m not pussy-whipped. She’s at a party and needs someone to walk her home.” 
Connie rolled his eyes. “Yeah, like I haven’t heard that one before.”
Lounged on his bottom bunk, Jean glanced from his phone screen to Eren. “You know, these sorts of arrangements—friends-with-benefits, fuck buddies, whatever weird thing you two have going on—they don’t normally end well.”
Jean said it smartly, in that been-there-done-that way as if his longest relationship wasn’t with his right hand. Before Eren could call him out on it, Connie jumped in on the dog pile.
“And last time I checked, they don’t involve catching feelings,” he asserted, thinking he'd added something meaningful to the conversation. 
“I didn’t catch feelings,” Eren refuted. 
“Then tell me straight up you’re going over there for pussy and not because you think she’s magically going to wake up one morning and want to have a serious, exclusive relationship with you after literal months of saying otherwise.”
Ouch.
“It is exclusive,” Eren corrected, though his delivery was a bit shaky. “I mean, I’m not sleeping around.”
“Well, duh. But is she?” 
Eren realized he had no idea if you were sleeping with anyone else. Why was he so quick to assume you had been faithfully fucking him? That wasn’t in the terms of your agreement. 
Regardless of what (or who) you did when he wasn’t around, you called him tonight over anyone else. That had to mean something, right? At the very least, it meant the decency of giving him a heads-up if you were fucking someone else, he liked to think. 
“I don’t think so,” Eren said. “She hasn’t mentioned anyone, and I’m sure she’d tell me if—”
Connie guffawed. “God, you are down so fucking bad. Just admit it to yourself.”
Eren had already done that a long time ago but they didn’t need to know that. Truthfully, they didn’t need to know anything about you, yet all three of his roommates managed to acquaint themselves with you despite never having met.
Eren tried to keep his fling with you under wraps—not for any special reason other than it was none of his friends’ business. But if he thought he was being sneaky, then he was doing a shit job at it because his friends caught on fast. After they spotted a poorly-hidden hickey, it didn’t take much to pull the dirty secret from him. 
But it wasn’t really that dirty of a secret, was it? They understood it; why would he stick around and play video games with them when he could be getting his dick sucked? What they didn’t understand was why he continued doting on you like he was your boyfriend—no, like he was your puppy, loyal and entirely dedicated to you while maintaining that it was nothing more than casual sex.
Fat fucking chance. They would never believe such a thing. They knew Eren better than that. They knew he wasn’t meant for casual. 
Eren bristled but held his tongue. Connie was right, and whatever bullshit Eren could spout wouldn’t be worth the breath; they’d never believe him.
If only he’d kept his mouth shut in the first place. At least then he wouldn’t need to dread this collective ‘I told you so!’ from friends who were all too eager to say it. 
Lest he wished for this to devolve into the world’s shittiest intervention, Eren left without another word—not even a ‘goodbye’ in reply to Armin, ever the diplomat, hiding out on his top bunk until he deemed it safe. Unfortunately for Eren, his silence (and the slammed door) spoke louder than anything he could have said.
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You’d sent Eren your location because you didn’t have half a mind to explain your whereabouts. Not to mention, the streets back on Fraternity Row were old and cobbled and poorly lit. You were a few blocks over from Eren, only a five-minute walk. Four, if he picked up his pace. 
Had it really been months since this whole thing started?
You and Eren were introduced under more formal circumstances. He couldn’t confidently say you would have met if not for your professor’s intervention. She randomly assigned partners for the final project, stating everyone needed to ‘branch out'—as if they needed another freshman orientation course. Looking back now, Eren could appreciate the icebreaker. 
That was in November. He met with you on a Friday only to spend the rest of the weekend with you on his mind. He remembered it well. For good reason, too; he’d never made out in a library before.
Neither had you, apparently. That was what you told him, whispered between giggles as you rose from your chair. You knew you were up to no good as you slipped into his lap, and you wore a glittery smile to match.  
Eren’s conscience told him otherwise, but the more bestial part of his brain had already justified it with boyishly sound reasoning as to why it was perfectly okay. 
First off, the two of you were tucked away in a secluded corner, hidden behind bookshelves blanketed in dust older than his college career. He hadn’t heard so much as a footstep the entire hour he’d spent here. 
Secondly, who would come to the library this late on a Friday anyway?
It made for quite the compelling argument, outside of the fact that he himself was one of those Friday night library goers. 
Eren couldn’t explain how you ended up there, astride his lap with his bottom lip sucked swollen and drawn between your teeth, other than stating the obvious: the attraction between you was instantaneous and the conditions were just right. The literature was just horrifically boring enough; the tension between you was palpable, nibbled away at bit by bit like a mouse gnawing on a cord. Accidental touches, as chaste as a hand brushed against his, became deliberate and lasted longer than the last. You would sit close, then closer, and move in a way that Eren would catch thin whiffs of your perfume, a sweet scent at the tip of his nose but warm in the pit of his stomach.
And like a cord, you risked a fateful snap: the moment you’d realize you were far more interested in each other than any ten-point word on the page—when you’d agree to leave the project abandoned on the table and let it fade into insignificance. 
Eren didn’t know the last time someone made his heart beat that hard, if ever. Hard enough that he remembered worrying you’d feel it. Of course, it could have been from the thrill, but he had to admit you left him feeling completely caught off guard. He wasn’t sure if the feeling ever truly went away. 
Exactly one week later, he discovered you had some friends-of-a-friend in common after bumping into each other at a house party. You approached him, eyes half-lidded, pupils dilated, but your smile as glittery as he remembered. You introduced him to a few girls, laying a hand on his arm as you said, “This is the project partner I was telling you about.” It flattered Eren to know you'd mentioned him, but more than that, it told him that you’d been thinking about him, too.
You brought him back to your room that night. It was the obvious choice between the suite Eren shared with three other guys or the single you miraculously snagged.  
It was fun—and Eren knew how it sounded when he said that. ‘Fun’ wasn’t the first word that came to mind when he thought about having drunk sex with a near stranger. Fumbling and awkward, yes. But fun? Not so much.
Yet with you, it was.
The pressure he put on himself melted away at the touch of your hand. Maybe that was the moment, if he had to name one, when he first felt something. Something that ran deeper than a hormone-induced make-out session in the library and deeper than any one-night stand. All you had to do was be you. The drunk version of you—of both of you—but still you, nonetheless. 
You kissed him not on your half-lofted bed but you were on your way there. Eren had your back pressed against it before breaking the kiss to take off your shirt. You helped him with his next.
Your hands immediately flew to his stomach, palming over the muscles in a way Eren wouldn’t describe as sexual—more like you were impressed.
“Whoa,” you remarked with a sort of wonder he didn’t expect. You squeezed his bicep next and then glanced down at your own. “Do you think I can get those?” 
“Yeah, I’ll send you my gym routine,” Eren laughed. Though he supposed he didn’t really have a routine, he just went to blow off steam.
He pulled you into him, snuffing out your giggles with a kiss. 
Confessedly, he came fast—not that fast, but quicker than he would have preferred. But he liked to think he made up for it, fingering and eating you until he was hard again and could go for round two. You sure seemed to like it. 
When it was all said and done, Eren lay there and imagined falling asleep at your side, while you were already hopping out of bed.
Ugh. Putting it like that made him sound like a girl.
You exchanged numbers before parting ways, and he dedicated another weekend to you, this time planning his text to ask you on a date. He took so long that you reached out first, sending what you called your fuck it! text, both figuratively and literally—you cheekily threw that into the message, too.
When Eren agreed to ‘just sex, nothing else,’ he thought it was making the obvious choice. What idiot would say no to that? It sounded like the college dream, and that was what it was supposed to be, up until it wasn’t.
From then on, the time you should have spent working on your project, you spent fucking. Shameful but true. It was probably the reason you received a C. As it turned out, humans don’t retain much information when attempting to read aloud while another went down on them. Maybe the two of you should have done your project on that instead.
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It was nearly spring now. The soggy beginning of the season as winter finally began to melt away. The night was rain-soaked. Eren could smell the remnants of the downpour on the asphalt as he walked against the breeze, chilly enough for him to hide his hands in his jacket pockets. 
He approached the bustling house to find you sitting alone on the stoop, legs bent at the knee and a bit knobbled. He called out for you and watched a gigantic smile capture your face. The sight made his chest tighten.
Eren held out his hands for you to take and tugged you to your feet. 
“Where are your friends?” he asked you.
“I dunno,” you absently said.
You passed him as you crossed the lawn. When you reached the sidewalk, you spun on your heels to see if Eren was following. He was.
“Don’t worry, I texted them that I was leaving.” You started to laugh. “Told them I had a booty call.”
“A booty call?” Eren pretended you wounded him, clasping a hand over his chest. “Is that all I am to you? And here I was thinking we were friends.”
You giggled as you kept your attention on steadying your stride. A bumpy sidewalk plus a few drinks past your limit didn’t make for a coordinated combination. Your arm brushed against Eren’s every few steps. 
“Seriously though,” he started to say. “Shouldn’t your friends be the ones to get you home?”
“You are my friend.” You beamed up at him, eyes heavy but happy. “You said so yourself.”
He smiled back at you, genuine but closed-mouth, and didn’t flinch as your cold hand nudged a path into his for warmth. 
He guided you into your residence hall and joined your elevator ride up to the eighth floor. He walked you down the left wing to the room at the very end of the hallway and swiped your student ID to unlock the door. He reached to flip the light switch but found it was already on.
“You left the light on,” Eren commented, closing the door as he followed you inside.
Your dorm was no larger than any other, but it sure felt like it with just one bed, tucked into the corner and still unmade from this morning. Your desk sat opposite it, with a window on the back wall dividing the two. The last time Eren saw your desk, he had you on it. By now, the clutter had been put back in its rightful place—a few loose papers and your open laptop—and doubled as a makeshift vanity with your tabletop mirror. 
You hummed blithely before nearing him in a few steps. You went to kiss him, even had your hands on either side of his face, but you only caught the corner of his mouth. He took you by the shoulders and held you at arm’s length. Even from there, your breath reeked of vodka. 
“You need to get some sleep,” he told you.
“I will,” you purred. “After—”
You shook free of his hands and peeled off your shirt, faltering slightly in the process. You tried to kiss him again, thinking your bare chest would surely tempt him.
When Eren didn’t budge, you pouted, “You tricked me.”
“Tricked is a pretty harsh word, don’t you think?”
Eren grabbed the t-shirt draped on your desk chair and plunged it over your head before he started to stare for too long. You scrambled to sort out its sleeves.
“So you came all this way just to tuck me in?” Your head popped through the neck hole to reveal your frown. “You’re not even going to have sex with me?”
“That’s right.”
You shimmied your jeans down your legs, glaring up at him. “You’re so boring.”
“I know,” he airily replied. He ticked his head. “Bed.”
You were drunk enough to listen obediently but kept your frown as you shuffled into your bed. As you crawled beneath the blankets, you watched Eren take a water bottle from your mini fridge and set it on your bedside cubby. Before his hand was out of reach, you lightly wrapped a hand around his wrist. 
You intertwined your fingers with his, sweeping yours up and down the length of each. “You’re at least going to kiss me good night, right?”
You were always so touchy-feely when you drank. 
Eren held his breath. His eyes followed as you pressed your palm against his, compared their sizes, and played with his fingers. It almost felt like you were pulling at something much deeper in him. A puppet and his puppeteer. 
He knew what he wanted to do, but his friends’ words resounded in the forefront of his mind, listing the exact reasons why this was a bad idea. Then he went and did it anyway. 
Eren leaned in to kiss you, not on your lips but sealed against your forehead. With his hand cradling your cheek to hold you there for that one, long second. 
It wasn’t the kiss you wanted, but even so, you stared up at him in drunken awe. Softly, and with a softer smile, you told him, “Thank you for walking me back.” You nuzzled deeper into the bed, closing your eyes as you rambled, “You’re so nice, Eren. Didya know that?”
“I’ll be sure to remind you of that the next time you call me mean,” he teased before turning to leave. 
You piped up again. Your voice was already sleepier than just a second ago, sounding smushed against your pillow as you murmured, “If I’m not married by forty, and you’re not married by forty, can we get married?”
He gave a tiny laugh through his nose. You were cute, weren’t you? He knew you wouldn’t remember this tomorrow. Or if you did, you’d profusely (and needlessly) apologize for it.
“You’ll be married by forty. You don’t have to worry about that,” Eren said, half-way out the door.
You responded with nothing more than a satisfied sound, drifting to sleep as quickly as Eren expected. 
The heavy lock clicked behind him, but Eren gave it a final jiggle to ensure it. He heaved a sigh, leaning back against your door with a thud you thankfully wouldn’t hear. 
This was a huge mistake, wasn’t it?
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masterlist | next part
79 notes · View notes
franciswasteland · 2 days
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TECH!LEO VALDEZ X THEATER KID!READER
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MASTERLIST
Summary: You land the role of Veronica Sawyer in a musical your high school is putting on, and your tech boyfriend tries to be supportive and reassure you when you need it.
Warnings: Highschool!au, Mortal!au,already dating fic, Beware spelling errors, im lowkey dyslexic. I DONT KNOW HOW TO END FICS….
Authors Notes: HIII GUYS IM ACTUALLY REALLY EXCITED TO WRITE THIS I LOVE LEO SO MUCH. ALSO THIS IS PARTLY FOR SOME DISCORD FRIENDS !! Possibly not canon written Leo 😭🙏
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You were in the drama/theater club at your high school, often appearing as the leading or supporting roles in musicals your school would put on in the auditorium. It was amazing, both fun and something you were good at! But what made it even better was one of the tech kids, Leo Valdez—Who was your boyfriend!
A few weeks ago, you scored one of the lead roles—Veronica Sawyer—in a musical your school was putting on called ‘Heathers’. But, there was a rather… intimate scene with another character, Veronica’s love interest, in the show during the song ‘Dead Girl Walking’, and Leo tried to tolerate it and support you the best he could, but it was getting a little unbearable for him.
“Baby…” Leo whined as you ranted to him about your role in the musical, even though you should have been practicing your lines. “Shouldn’t you be, uh, practicing or something?” He didn't want to send you away like that, but he could go on hearing you talk about that scene.
“Sorry, sorry, you’re right. I’ll go practice my lines. Thanks for the reminder. Love you, bye!” You say apologetically, kissing his cheek quickly (If any teacher or adult at the school saw you do that you’d probably get detention.) and running out from backstage where you were talking to Leo as he worked on… Whatever he does.
It was a few hours from the first showing of the show as your high school was doing a morning and afternoon show. You were backstage getting ready, changing into costume, and makeup, making sure you had your lines completely memorized and you could hit each note in the songs—Which you could. Expect you couldn’t help but be a bit worried about this. Sure, you had played so many roles before throughout the years you’ve been in high school, but you were worried about little things, a lot of little things which slowly added up to become one big thing for you to worry about—Making sure you’d sing the school appropriate version of the lyrics, making sure you wouldn’t blank on stage (How embarrassing would that be?!), making sure you were perfect.
Then you got an idea.
There was one person that you knew for sure thought you were perfect. Your boyfriend, Leo! Of course, you’d be able to get reassurance from him! So naturally you ran—Not too fast though, you couldn’t ruin your costume—off from where you were sat to find him.
It didn’t take you long to find Leo, he was exactly where you had expected him to be after all. “Leo!” You called out as you walked up to him, placing one of your hands on his arm so he would turn around to face you. And he in fact did turn around and face you like you had suspected he would.
“What is it?” He asked, sounding confused. He thought you would be getting ready for the musical, not running up to him for a chat. “Did ya miss me that bad you had to stop getting ready to come find me?” He added with a short chuckle, gaining a smile.
“Nono,—Well yes, but that’s not why I came to find you.” You replied, worry practically seeping through your words the more you spoke. Leo noticed almost immediately.
Your hand was still on his arm, Leo put his hand on top of yours. “Wow, I’m hurt.” He teased. “Well then, what is it? Whatcha need?” That was one of the things you loved about Leo; he always seemed to know when you were worried or upset about something, even if he didn’t know how to comfort you.
“I dunno, I guess I’m just nervous about this. I’m scared of messing up on stage.” You admit to him, and Leo seems to immediately understand what you mean. “Oh, don’t worry about it. You’ll do great, trust me.”
Then, when you were finally getting that reassurance from your boyfriend, it was about roughly 15-to-20 minutes until curtain—Until you would be on stage. Oh, brother.
You were feeling a little more better as you rushed back to the backstage area of the auditorium, Leo’s words ringing in your ears. The backstage was suddenly not as easy to navigate as it was before you ran off to find your boyfriend. People—Either in the show themselves or apart of tech like Leo—Were running around, trying to make sure the preparations were all set and everything was ready for the first showing of the musical.
Then you got told by one of the tech team members to get in your place on stage.
After about 2 and a half hours, the morning show of your high schools performance of ‘Heathers The Musical’ was over. You bowed before the audience, sweating, your throat sore and hurting from singing for almost 2 hours straight. At this point, all you could think of was the bottle of water that was waiting for you by your bag backstage.
As soon as the curtain closed, you ran off stage to where you had set your bag in desire of the bottle of water you had gotten before hand. And there it was waiting for you, along with Leo, your boyfriend.
“See? What did I tell you? You did amazing, just like I said you would.” Leo said, wrapping one of his arms around you, seemingly not minding the fact that you were practically covered in sweat.
“Yeah yeah, I know,” You groan in reply. “Just lemme grab my water before you start praising me.” You let out a dry laugh, —Dry to the fact that your throat was now killing you. You reached out your hand for your bottle of water, but Leo grabbed it before you could. You thought he would hold on to it tightly and reach his hand up high, making you reach even farther for it, but he didn’t. Instead, he opened it for you and handed it to you, seemingly recognizing how tired you were after performances.
“You look tired,” Leo mused, knowing exactly where this was going to go. After most shows and performances, you would be tired and feel miserable. So miserable and tired that you would just crash in his arms. “Come here..” He said, opening his arms for you to fall into. You quickly leaned your whole body against him, leaning into his arms.
“Thank you,”
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yuri-is-online · 2 days
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Hi Yuri! Have you ever considered the idea of there being an alternate version of the twst boys in Yuu’s world? Since we have no clue if it’s just another planet or an entirely separate universe, it’s theoretically possible. Poor Yuu would think they are going crazy seeing a familiar face or hearing a familiar voice in another world. Perhaps it is even painful to the point Yuu tries to avoid interacting with the boy in question. - 🦐
(Also, I am well aware of how often I’ve been sharing these thoughts. If they’re annoying you or you don’t feel up to it, I don’t want you to feel pressured to respond or anything. I’m just spitballing and posting before I forget. 👉👈)
OH BOY DO I HAVE SOME THOUGHTS ON THIS!!!!! (first and foremost being that you are very much not annoying <3)
An alt version of a twst boy in Yuu's world is just so yummy. There's so much angst potential depending on what the relationship is/was. Did their boy die in some horrible accident? Is he waiting for them, anxious and terrified about where Yuu went? Does this imply that twst also has a version of Yuu somewhere out there in the world? Questions questions. I did sort of write about this idea in the tags of this yan version of the soulbound au, wherein a cursed Yuu driven insane by their curse kills their soulmate before being isekaid to Twisted Wonderland and finding a different version of him, horrified with the realization that they could kill him again... but I want to cook up some dynamics for what the dorm leaders/overblot boys could be up to in Yuu's world first sooo...
I had a hard time thinking about Riddle until I remembered he's a horse girl and cast Yuu in the role of bad boy ranch hand whose dad's got a job at the barn so they're forced to help take care of the horses and warn all the would be YA protags about the "special horse" who doesn't take orders from just anyone. Not that Riddle is the protagonist... he's more the well established rich petty bitch who looks down on the new girls and especially on you because you're never taking care of his horse in accordance with all his stupid rules. And in stereotypical horse movie fashion Riddle has a massive not so secret crush on bad boy ranch hand Yuu who just doesn't get why he keeps trying to talk to them.
There isn't much royalty left in the world, but imagine Leona as the son of some rich business magnate whose older brother got the company and left him with "nothing." Maybe Yuu works at a liquor store part time and Leona comes in to pick stuff up every once in a while. You wouldn't call him a friend, but you guys shoot the shit enough that you have a general feel for each other to the point he joins you on your breaks to keep up the talk and play chess.
I love the idea of student president council Azul. He's made for that trope. Born for it, he'd be such a terror with Jade as his VP and Floyd as well. Floyd. I can't see him really being a part of the student council but I had this idea the other day based off this instagram post I saw about this mom who sews right? Her daughter was running for class president and she made these bracelets with little shrimp on them and attached them to cards that said "Keep it shrimple! Vote for (kid's name)!" And I was struck with this vision of Yuu doing that so like. Yuu running against Azul with that campaign slogan and he's tearing his hair out over it being so popular because people like memes (the original idea had Floyd running as Yuu's vp but they both dropped out at the last minute because neither him or Yuu wanted to do the actual work lol.) I also like student council president Azul and delinquent Yuu... but that's because of Tsuredure Children ha
Kalim and Jamil are hard... but I think the same set up of rich businessman's kid and his bodyguard in training still fits. How Yuu meets them is beyond me, but if you were friends with either of them could you imagine how painful seeing the same tragedy play out in this new world would be? Jamil doomed to always be a servant and Kalim doomed to be betrayed by his best friend... that would be so painful for someone who cared deeply about either of them I could see it motivating Yuu to try and resolve things for twst Jamil and Kalim that much harder.
Ok so hear me out... Vil still wants to be an actor in your world but he doesn't have the connections to his dad and is working as a pharm tech with Yuu at your local drugstore while going to school and hunting for gigs. He mentions being interested in cosmetics and magical pharmacology in game... and he also mentions knowing nothing about his mom so like. Your world Vil ended up with his mom instead of his dad and you get to see him on the cusp of his big break as one of his number one supporters from the very start, only to get isekaid to a world where you get to see what things could have looked like. It's strange how similar and yet not both versions of Vil are...
Idia is the guy who comes in to buy snacks at your convenience store during the night shift who you start talking to when you notice him buying a game time card for something you also play. You're stupid awkward around each other at first, but it's nice to finally have someone to talk about your niche interest with once you've passed each other's sniff tests. You don't actually know him know him though... so getting sent to another world where there's another version of him makes you worried the more you learn about his backstory that maybe you should have been there for your Idia more. Is he doing ok back home? Did he think of you as a friend? You hope he isn't blaming himself for any of this...
Malleus is an old money trust fund baby whose family was absolutely royalty at some point and is still overly attached to it. He likes old buildings, cemeteries, long walks in the fog, you know all those good goth things. He's tall and socially awkward and so grateful for you, his first and best friend who he met one moonlight night he swore was a dream in his favorite abandoned building who spoke at length with him about all sorts of things he liked. So you know. More or less the same. Just without the world ending powers... I think this is another one that would be quite sad. Which version of Malleus needs Yuu more? Which one is the real one? I'd hate the idea of him being destined to always be lonely and lose the ones he loves.
As for Yuu avoiding them... I could see that. It would feel weird seeing someone you love so much only for it not to be them at all. I know that the Lovebrush Chronicles kiiiiind of deals with this??? I wish I had the patience to play through it has an appealing glasses wearing ro but it's a mobile otome :/ but still. It's a concept I promise I am totally normal about.
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finsterwalds · 2 days
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Got a very inspired ask inquiring about the villains in my Better Call Saul french AU so here's Gus aka famous chef Gustavo Faure and his main waiter Léo haha. More info under the cut as always...
So at first I thought about making Gus a fast-food owner like his canon counterpart, but it just doesn't fit really well if you wanna frenchify it all with nuance. We have fast-foods ofc and we do enjoy fried chicken lol, but Los Pollos Hermanos has this very distinct "patriotic" feeling that wouldn't translate as well in France, as fast-foods are american in conception. I thought about making Gus the owner of some cheaper chain like Courtepaille lmao, but it feels too memey and doesn't have the prestige that his character has canonically. Gus assimilates perfectly into american society with his brand, and caters to the people locally, so I thought it would be fair for him to do the same in France. And if you wanna cater to lovers of chic, gastronomy and prestige, what's better than being the chef of some fancy restaurant, right? It felt cliché af and looses the "close to the people" part but it honestly fits his character well, imo...
He would be extremely respected locally but still friendly and approachable due to him crafting some kind of tragic backstory for himself and his restaurant. Basically he would play the "Chilean refugee that climbed to the top of foreign cuisine" card and everyone would buy it. French people love to eat and are fond of mixing their culture's meals with more international food, so yes: I think he would serve a fusion of french/Chilean food!
He'd also be an entrepreneur as famous french chefs often have side businesses like bakeries or published books, which I think respects his canon personality pretty well. Fancy french chefs also like to hang out outside their kitchen to greet their guests and I can totally imagine Gus do that. He'd still be able to conceal his shady side nicely. He's canonically seen to like fine wine, good products, and cooks Paila Marina for Walt, so congrats to Gus for already being french in conception and not making this idea feel like a stretch lol.
I have no idea about his exact role concerning drug traffic in Europe, as I said I'm pretty ignorant about that… But he'd use his business and image to form connections and launder his money. His backstory with Max stays the same in the AU aka Max was his business """"partner""" who died killed by the Salamancas.
I don't think changing his first name was necessary, but his last name sounding american I thought I would just frenchify it a bit lol. I don't know what the name of his restaurant would be, but definitely something short, spanish, and aesthetic/poetic. Maybe a reference to Max to allude to the Hermanos part.
Bonus : I know they don't canonically meet, but in my AU I think Chuck, as a rich lawyer, would eat at Gustavo's often. They'd be acquainted :) And maybe Jérôme aka Jimmy meets him thru his brother and later discovers Gus' shady side, when the events of BrBa start.
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total-drama-brainrot · 23 hours
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World Tour Assistant Noah AU (where he is always an assistant):
Alejandro: Mi Amor, perhaps before I do this challenge, you'd like to kiss me for luck.
Noah: Trust me Eel, it will take a lot more then luck to win the million dollars.
Alejandro: [kissing Noah's hand] I know.~ 💚
Anon this is very cute and I love the idea of this scenario, but the only reaction I can see assistant Noah having to anyone- especially Alejandro- kissing his hand is just pure disgruntlement. He's already so done with everything due to being overworked (and having to deal with Chris' brand of tomfoolery), so he wouldn't even try to entertain Alejandro's antics.
Alejandro would lean down to kiss his hand thinking he's being suave and flirtatious and Noah would just pin him with the most disgusted look possible. It'd be awkward for everyone involved.
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(ft. really quick shitty doodle example)
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mocamagical · 2 days
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I'm falling in love with your beautiful artworks of Charlastor and your Hazbin Hotel au! It's so beautiful and unique at the same time!💗💗
Since Lucifer knows his daughter is dating Alastor and so does Vox, I could see them bonding over how much they hated Alastor (Even though Vox still love or still have a crush on Alastor). He would totally agree with the King Of Hell that Charlie should break up with Alastor.
And Vox would immediately start asking Alastor to be his boyfriend if he becomes single someday after Charlie break up with him.
Which would never happened since Charlie and Alastor love each very much.
Nice to meet another Charlastor shipper fan! ❤️❤️❤️❤️
Keep up with your amazing beautiful artwork of Hazbin Hotel au!
Thank you!!! I love those ideas and definitely Vox would be opportunistic like that but Alastor has made it clear that he doesn't like Vox. And Vox for as much as he has a crush HATES Alastor. Here's a visual:
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Vox is a man who wants to be better than Alastor more than be with him (at least in my AU) so while he can't win in an entertainment battle he can prod at him through the ever friendly Charlie. Obviously not threatening her. that's a death wish, but by being friendly with her and flattering her. Poking at Alastor's one weakness. And this is the only way Alastor will treat him as a fair rival. I've given the 2 of them equal weapons.
And as for Lucifer...I'd say even if he hates Alastor, he's too high in the hierarchy to really acknowledge Vox or their shared hatred.
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Love where your head's at though. I've thought about it too
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nyoomiin · 12 hours
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roommates: part four.
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your new roommate is... odd, and recently, so are your dreams. still, despite the secrecy, the mystery, and his ice cold exterior, you have the feeling you'd waltz right into love with him. (maybe you already have before.)
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pairing. scaramouche x gn!reader
tags. no warnings, slice of life, fluff, slowburn, friends to lovers, reincarnation au, post irminsul erasure
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prev. masterlist. next.
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Your roommate had changed.
It was a change so minute that you had barely noticed, yet it was there. It was in the way he looked at you, you think. In the way he no longer avoided your eye, and in the way he’d respond to your smile. Well, honestly, he always had that little frown on his face, and his words were always sharp, but still, it was a start.
This was… certainly an interesting development.
See, when you had posted that commission in search of someone who'd loan you some aid, you did not expect that person to be the Traveller. As in the guy who’s taken Teyvat by storm, solving crisis over crisis from nation to nation. As in the guy who's got a title in just about every nation he's visited. That guy.
“Thank you for accepting my commission!” you tell him brightly, because what else were you supposed to say? At the very least, you were sure the job would be well done. “I'll make sure the compensation is worth your while.”
Paimon brightens immediately. “What do you need us for?”
You hand the Traveller the list of fabrics and other materials you need. “Could you get me everything on the list? These aren't the materials I usually buy, so I have no idea which ones are of good quality. Or even how or where to get them.”
“All these are… Inazuman?” Paimon says, curious. “What do you need them for?”
You nod, grinning. “My roommate's from Inazuma — well, he looks like he does… I wanted to make a traditional set of Inazuman clothes for him.”
It would match the shawl you had made for him perfectly. He'd look angelic, you muse, dressed in white and blue.
You'd pay to see the sight, really. You hadn't spent all that time designing and researching and sewing just to see his pretty face be wasted on those boring ass clothes he had on. Seriously, was that the only set of clothes he had or what?
“That's so sweet!” she gushes.
The Traveller pockets the list. “I'll be back by the end of today.”
“Damn, that's really quick. Thank you!”
You have to tell Alhaitham about this.
“He was so pretty, I swear, why aren’t isn't there anyone talking about how insanely gorgeous the Traveller is?” 
Both his hair and eyes were of shimmering gold, not to mention his lean build and rosy skin… You hadn't registered it then, with the legendary Traveller in front of your very eyes, but thinking back on the encounter… damn. You want to make something for him too. Or maybe a little cape and dress for Paimon?
Alhaitham sighs. “Please, try not to get too far ahead of yourself.”
“Easy for you to say. Hmph.” You cross your arms in faux anger, turning your nose up at him. “I can't believe you didn't tell me the Traveller looked like that.”
“You seem quite taken with the Traveller. Does this indicate that you have finally gotten over your infatuation with your roommate?”
You squawk, gasping in indignation and utter betrayal. “Never! Do you think so little of me?”
… He just stares.
“And I don't have a crush on him,” you finish, protesting weakly. “He just seems interesting.”
Even you find it hard to believe yourself.
(He's walking down the streets when a particular store catches his eye.
Little trinkets are laid out on the tables, from keychains to bracelets and the like — but it's the wood carvings that he narrows in on. They're tiny, no bigger than the palm of his hand, and no heavier than a small stone. He picks up the carving of a bunny, inspecting it.
You had always liked bunnies, he remembers. Especially the ones white as snow, and the ones black as night. He wonders if you like them still.
“Would you like that one? It's a thousand and three hundred mora,” the shopkeeper says. “Very cheap for a handmade carving.”
He pauses. Just what was he doing? 
Nothing good would come out of being involved with you yet again, that he knew. No, nothing good ever came out of associating with mortals in general — and that had been a harsh lesson learnt. 
… But ‘Scaramouche’ was no more, and gone was everything that had happened with him too. He was, by right, no one at all.
Him interacting with you — a human who had never known ‘Scaramouche’, a stranger of a person he had simply come to share an apartment with — surely that was alright?
Oh how far has he fallen, to be bargaining with himself like this. He tosses a bag full of mora onto the counter.
“Keep the change.”)
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taglist. (send an ask to be added.)
@franaby @dragontammerz @ainnofinway @sketcheeee @briluvspnk @bunniicantsleep @featuredtofu @tragedy-of-commons @parkjayssi @xiaosantenna @idontevenknow129
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gabessquishytum · 2 days
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I've spent almost all day at work thinking about my Haunted Mansion AU. I might actually end up writing this. So, some more of my ideas:
Just like in the film, Hob dies during a Masquerade Ball. He and Roderick meet to discuss 'business' and end up going to Morpheus' study, where they're supposed to wait for him. Hob doesn't trust Roderick but believes that he is safe because surely Roderick won't do anything stupid in the middle of a huge party. While waiting, Hob grabs wine for them, but Roderick poisons Hob's drink. Morpheus arrives, realizes what Roderick has just done, and loses it. Roderick assumed he'd be okay (ironically for the same reason Hob thought everything would be fine), but he doesn’t realize Morpheus is a very old and powerful vampire. Morpheus kills Roderick and then cries over Hob's body, eventually ending the Masquerade Ball by carrying his body through the party.
Like Mr. Gracey in the movie, he plans to kill himself to join his beloved in the afterlife but his eldest brother, Destiny, who can see the future, comes to him. Destiny tells Morpheus that Hob will be reborn in time (as Hob has always been one to reject death, which is part of the reason he and Morpheus worked so well together) and if Morpheus kills himself, he'll not actually be joining Hob in the afterlife. He won't tell Morpheus how long, but he tells Morpheus to wait. So Morpheus does.
I had the thought that instead of Ramsley, Lucienne is the butler, but she's also the librarian of the Manor because she spent so much time there that Morpheus just kind of gave it to her. She's also an Elf.
Jessamy and Matthew take the places of the Maid and Not-Butler (The "Inconceivable!" Guy) and they are siblings who are Fae. They both have the ability to shapeshift into Ravens.
I haven't decided if Corinthian is in this yet. Probably not because I can't figure out where to put him.
I also had the thought that Robert, the real estate agent that is Hob reincarnated, would spend a week at the Manor, and every night he would dream a little more about his life as Hob. How he and Morpheus met, fell in love, and it all culminates in Hob's murder.
Morpheus spends the entire time trying to Be Normal™ about this man who is absolutely his beloved returned to him, just as his elder brother promised. He's so busy trying to Be Normal™ (which, for the record, he's horrendous at lol) that he misses the very obvious hints Rob has been dropping about his memories slowly coming back. At least until Rob has his final dream, where he actually TALKS to Hob, the part of his soul that IS Hob. They have a conversation and realize they aren't all that different, and Rob admits he wouldn't mind if they... became one for lack of a better term. So they sort of merged into one being. He's still Rob, but he's also Hob now.
Hob/Rob talk to Morpheus, explain the situation, and they live happily ever after once Morpheus turns him.
- 🐺
I really really hope that you decide to write this, I love this outline so much. I love the inclusion of Matthew and Jessamy, I love how much the setting of the haunted mansion suits Dream’s vibes so incredibly well.
I love how well Hob can fit into this au as well, because it's almost like you can have 1389 Hob and 2023 Hob talking to eachother (only in this au its Hob and Rob ofc). I just think that could be really poignant and lovely. Like I said I really hope you write this up as a full fic, but even if you don't these ideas are really wonderful already <3
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chimcess · 2 days
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Waterlog || pjm (3) (teaser)
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Pairing: Jimin x Reader Other tags: Olympic Swimmer!Jimin, Ex Olympic Swimmer! Reader, Swim Coach!Reader Genre: Strangers to Friends to Lovers!AU, Coach!AU, Swimming!AU, HEAVY Angst, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, fluff, eventual smut, I'm so soft for these two it's crazy. Teaser wc: 391 Synopsis: After a car accident ends her athletic career, Y/N has slowly started rebuilding her life again as a high school swim coach. That’s until she gets a request from an old friend and finds herself back in the spotlight as the new coach of Olympic swimmer, Park Jimin. Warnings: toxic relationship (not reader and jimin), arguments, cheating (not reader and jimin), talks about previous child abuse, anxiety attack, strong language, crying, emotional abuse (not reader and jimin), mentions of depression and mental health, lots of angst in this one, finally making some progress though, age insecurity, mutual pining, lots of side character development in this one, they really are so sweet together, jimin just being the nicest boy in the world, so much PDA, physical touch is his love language 👀👀👀, more in the official posting...
Release date: April 6th, 2024 at 6pm EST
masterlist || playlist
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Jimin and I said our goodbyes and I promised the blue haired boy I would call him in the morning to set up another meet up. He called it a group date, something neither Jimin nor I disagreed with, but it did make me feel queasy. Depending on how our conversation goes, we may never spend time together outside of training. I felt like I was going to vomit.
“Let me drive?” Jimin murmured as we parted ways with the couple. 
I nodded, digging in my purse to find them. “Mind reader, I swear. Get out of my head, kid.”
He snickered, “Who says you weren’t in mine, granny”
The queasiness dissipated and I felt like I could breathe a little bit easier now. Being alone with Jimin had never felt this nerve wracking before, not even the first time we met, and it was hard to explain all of the thoughts and feelings going through my head. We were finally having the talk, but I had never imagined it going this way. Handing him the keys, I elbowed him in the ribs.
“Whoops,” I mocked. “You know me and my bad eyesight, kiddo.”
“Watch it,” He hissed, rubbing the spot. “Don’t want you breaking anything. You know you have frail bones.”
I laughed, “Don’t make me give you a knuckle sandwich, punk.”
Sliding into the passenger seat felt less daunting after the light hearted exchange. Still, my blood was pumping as Jimin clicked his seatbelt in place. I had no idea when the conversation would shift into murkier waters, but I needed to start thinking about what to say to him. 
Denying my feelings would only make things worse, and I did not think the younger man would believe me. In fact, he would be offended that I thought he was dumb enough to get bamboozled in the first place. Lying did not seem like the right call anyway. My feelings were not something to feel ashamed about, but they were very frightening. 
“When is later?”
I gasped, startled out of my thoughts. We had been driving for over ten minutes already. Time seemed to slip by when I was lost in my own head. Jimin apologized for scaring me but repeated the question once I reassured him that I was fine.
“Now,” I mumbled. “I guess later is now.”
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Taglist: @ownthesunshine @screamertannie @lovelytaes-blog @pernesianparapio @tae-with-some-suga @sumzysworld @chimmisbae
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Let me know if you want to be added/deleted from the taglist. -Lex
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