#Obviously i want them to end in a happy place lol | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

chuulyssa · 3 months ago

Text

୨・──── TELL ME I’M A LITTLE ANGEL, SWEETHEART OF YOUR CITY ────・୧

pairing ⸺ satoru gojo x reader

teaser ⸺ as a child, you were taken in by the powerful gojo clan and raised alongside their heir, gojo satoru — but never as his sibling. now, at an elite school, your fragile bond is tested when an actual noble woman enters the picture, bringing in a marriage proposal.

FIRST IN ARRANGED. [GOJO SATORU X READER]

READ PART II HERE

content ⸺ fluff, reader is an academic achiever and has a good handwriting, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, cliff hanger ending, human auctions, implied slavery, jealousy, implied torture, shoko talks about using medical tools for torture (lol), blood, implied abuse, implied grape (not at reader), magic!au, historic!au, the ages of reader and gojo throughout the story: 3, 10, 12, 15, 17

count ⸺ 22k

author’s note ⸺ thank you to everyone for waiting patiently! this is just the part one, i hope it does well to give me enough motivation to write a part two. i have so soo many ideas i’m hoping to incorporate.

🎧 ao3 wattpad

You sat next to the man, bowing deeply with him at some figure you couldn’t care less about. It had to be someone important obviously, and you knew now was the time you were going to get kicked out of a place for the tenth time in your life, unwittingly dragging this poor man with you as well. He had seemed kind enough when he had bought you off at that auction.

He wasn’t anything like you had feared. You had met other girls bonding with each other inside the cage; girls older and prettier than you, getting sold off one by one to old and creepy men who looked like they couldn’t keep it in their pants. You had dreaded meeting the same fate as them. That was, until the man who kept increasing his offer for you looked younger and stronger.

He was probably like one of those army officers you had seen at your mother’s house, who would stand guard outside your small room each night she and her happy family went out to lavish parties, to make sure you didn’t escape. Well, even if you did, you thought that was what they would have wanted, but they kept saying that they didn’t want anyone noticing your existence. Not that they didn’t have a good reason.

In your mind, you had hoped the man would win, and when he had, the triumphant look on his face made you sigh in relief; at least now you were sure you wouldn’t be used as a hole for life. But were you, though? Because the thoughts kept creeping back; the looks on the other girls’ faces when they were taken away by their new masters. But the mysterious man had made you sit on his pretty horse, taking you somewhere, away from the horrifying auctions that represented the worst atrocities made by humans.

You peered from under your hands, still in your bowing position. The person had now risen. He had dark hair and vivid blue eyes. He seemed to peer at you in as much curiosity as you were at him. That was, until a crisp voice had cut through the silence, knocking you out of your bow when it addressed your saviour to “pack his things and leave”.

“I understand, madam,” he said smoothly, getting up to leave, not before giving another curt nod. Then he turned to you. “This is where my job ends, little one. You’ll be much happier here,” he whispered, nodding at you and standing up. You almost wanted to stop him before you remembered you were told several times that you didn’t possess any human emotions. So you watched him leave, wondering how he was so sure this wouldn’t be another one of your previous houses.

“As for the child,” you snapped your head back to the dark-haired man in front of you who seemed to be giving commands, “we must decide which family keeps her. From the looks of it, she needs to be tended to,” he eyed your wounds from previous struggles you wished to forget about.

You stared at the people he was questioning, and they all looked away. This seemed like a meeting room, and the people were lined up sitting parallel to each other. Some were glaring at you like you had come to raid their houses, fuck their wives and drink their blood. None of them seemed to realize you were only a child of ten. Nervous under all the gazes, you wished to find another person you could bow to, just to avoid all the staring you were receiving.

“We will,” said the same voice you had heard earlier, and you finally looked at its source.

She had long, white hair that seemed to reach till the floor. Her eyes were light, and she looked pretty. She had a cold look on her face that made her seem frightening, though, and that was probably why you saw that none of the others could even muster enough courage to look at her eyes when she said those words.

“Well, it’s decided then,” the man said in a final tone, as if he had only bargained about the price of a few watermelons from his local vendor. “Love, if you will.”

Love? Oh, maybe they were married.

The woman stood up and everyone bowed at her again. You were about to sink back into the position before she crouched down in front of you, caressing your hair with a touch that made you look back at her.

“Come with me, daughter.”

──── ୨ৎ ────

“I have a sister now?” “Shh, and don’t call her that. I’ve already told you, she’s not your sister—”

“Does she know how to ride horses?” “Do you ever do anything else?”

“She should know how to ride horses.” “You can teach her.”

“Oh, wow, really?”

You scrambled away from the door at the sounds of footsteps returning and sunk back into the expensive bed the woman had had prepared for you. The ‘woman’ who asked you to call her ‘mom’, somehow losing the twinkle in her eye when commanding maids around, which she seemed to regain every time you spoke something.

You knew it was a trap though. If she really ‘adopted’ you and wanted you to call her ‘mom’, wouldn’t that mean you were the sister to whatever child she already had? Yet here you were, all cleaned up and changed, almost believing the charade before realizing the child was being advised not to consider you as their sister.

You bit your lip, trying not to cry. At least you weren’t at your old house thinking of ways to poison your family, or in that cage counting down for when it was your turn, or lying dead in some creep’s backyard. Maybe you could enjoy this while it lasted.

“May I come in?” A polite, boyish voice rang out from behind your door. A hushed whisper of an older woman seemed to reprimand him for not knocking, and the two started to argue.

“Yes?” You didn’t quite know how to respond professionally to the request, so your answer came off more as a question. You sure hoped the man wouldn’t scold you for your manners as well.

A boy stepped forward, and you immediately knew he was the son of the two clan leaders. Not because of his clothes, but because of his face. He had the same white hair as his mother, and the blue eyes he got from his father. Maybe blue eyes were a thing of the clan?

“Hi,” he said awkwardly, and the door closed behind him. “Mother sent me here for ‘bonding time’.” You kept staring at him, not realizing you were staring. He looked up at you and flushed. Only then did you realize, chuckling awkwardly and scratching your wrists, trying to get used to the expensive scents the maids had covered you with.

“Can I… uh,” he trailed off, staring at you, and you blinked back at him, not knowing what he was going to say.

“...sit on the bed?” You offered, and he raised an eyebrow before climbing on it, sitting in the most formal position you had ever seen.

“Do you like horse riding?” “What?”

He flushed even more. “Mother said we should ask each other questions to get to know the other better.”

“Oh.” “Yeah.”

There was another silence.

“So it’s my turn to ask a question now?” You asked. “Yeah.”

“Do you like potatoes?”

“What?” He processed your question for a solid five seconds before bursting into laughter. You kept staring at him as if he was stupid. Did you say something stupid?

“I like you!” He said in between giggles, his old formal, uptight position long lost. It was your turn to flush now. No one had ever said they even wanted you alive, let alone say that. Well, no one except for three people in the past few hours, and now this guy. You had a feeling you might prefer this over anything else for now.

──── ୨ৎ ────

The soft hum of celebration still lingered in the air. Lanterns flickered outside glowing warmly across your room. You sat on the edge of your bed, staring at the wrapped gifts and trinkets the Gojo family had insisted on presenting you earlier. It had been strange, the idea of sharing a birthday with Satoru. You didn’t even know your real birthday, so his — no — your mother announced it would be shared.

Satoru had, of course, embraced the attention, dragging you along with him to cut the massive cake. You had never seen anything like this before, and it might have shown on your face, because he had held your wrist tightly as if annoyed you were taking so long, and cut the cake with you. That was what made it impossible to shun the feelings of belongingness.

Now, the house was quiet, and the festivities had faded. But just as you were about to pull the covers over yourself, the faint sound of your door creaking open made you pause.

“Hey,” Satoru’s voice whispered, followed by the soft padding of his feet. You turned your head to see him, still in the formal robes mother had fussed over earlier, though they were now slightly askew. His hair was a mess, his face flushed from excitement — or maybe all the sweets he’d devoured.

“Should you not knock?” you asked, folding your arms. You inwardly cringed at the noble accent you had unknowingly adopted from the Gojo family. “And what are you doing here?”

“Escaping,” he said, as if that explained everything. He plopped down without invitation beside you on the bed, leaning back on his hands and gazing at the ceiling. “Mother’s got the maids cleaning up. I was bored. Figured you’d be awake.”

You rolled your eyes, but he caught the faint smile tugging at your lips. “You’re going to get us in trouble. Again.”

“What’s the point of having a birthday if you can’t even cause some trouble now?” He shot you a grin, then leaned closer to the window. “Let’s go outside.”

“What? No.” “Please, please, pretty please?”

“I am not letting my first birthday become my death day,” you scoffed at him. Taking one look at the pout on his face, which seemed to stretch all the way down to his neck, you sighed, and he knew he won. “Fine. But we’re only looking outside.”

“What!? But what’s the fun in that?” “Then go alone.”

He pouted again, but you merely looked away trying to shield yourself from his cuteness. Soon after though, Satoru relented. He slid the window open and climbed onto the ledge, grumbling for you to follow. You joined him, settling beside him as the smell of night air filled your room. The stars were brilliant tonight, like silver dust across an ink-black canvas.

“They’re so bright,” you murmured. “It’s almost… too much.”

Satoru snorted. “That’s the problem with you. You overthink everything. Just look at them — they’re pretty, that’s all there is to it.”

You rolled your eyes again but couldn’t suppress a small laugh. “Fine. They’re beautiful. Happy now?”

“Very,” he said, grinning. Then he tilted his head, closing his eyes and mumbling something to himself. He opened his eyes, looking at you expectantly. “Now it’s your turn. Make a wish.”

“What?” You frowned.

“A wish! Like for your birthday. I know we already made some during the cake thing, but this one’s private. Just for us.”

You hesitated, unsure of what to wish for, before finally closing your eyes. Satoru watched you intently as if trying to guess your wish, but when you opened your eyes again, he pretended to be fascinated by the sky.

“Oh, done already? What did you wish for?” he asked after a moment.

“You said it was private,” you shot back. “What did you wish for?”

“Not telling,” he replied smugly, crossing his arms. “What if you laugh?”

“Why would I laugh?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Because you’re you.” “And you’re stupid.”

The two of you fell into another argument, but when it finally died down, it was followed by a comfortable silence, broken only by the occasional sound of distant crickets. Then, out of nowhere, Satoru blurted out, “Do you think the stars can hear us?”

“What?” You stared at him.

“The stars,” he said seriously, pointing upward. “Do you think they grant wishes, like gods or something?”

“That’s stupid,” you muttered, but you couldn’t hide the faint curl of amusement on your lips. “They’re just balls of gas.”

“Well, maybe those gas balls are listening,” he said, sticking his tongue out. “You don’t know everything. Maybe they are hearing us right now.”

You opened your mouth to retort but froze. A memory seemed to resurface…

“I still don’t know why you decided to keep the child!” a deep voice was screeching at another, soft one.

“I don’t know what came over me, I swear!”“It is the spawn of Satan himself! I respect you for what you have been through, but it is time to dispose of her.”

“Dispose? You don’t mean—”

Large hands came your way to muffle the screams from your mouth.

Your fingers clenched the windowsill.

“They didn’t hear me before,” you said quietly, almost to yourself.

“What?” Satoru noticed the change in your tone, and turned to look at you, his brow furrowing. “Who? The balls?”

You shook your head quickly. “Never mind. Forget I said anything.”

But Satoru wasn’t one to let things go. “Hey,” he said softly. “You can tell me. I mean, if you want.”

His sincerity made your chest tighten. Normally, after the word ‘balls’, he would have made a bad joke about male anatomy. But he seemed to have read the room enough to shut up. You looked at him, his bright blue eyes watching you with genuine concern. For a moment, you thought about telling him. But then, the weight of it all felt too heavy to share. He was too young, too shielded from the horrors of the world to be able to handle any of it anyway.

“It’s nothing,” you muttered. “Just something dumb I used to believe.”

Satoru opened his mouth to argue, then seemed to think better of it. Instead, he smiled gently and nudged your shoulder. “Okay. But if you ever want to talk about dumb things, I’m here. You know, I’m dumb, so…” he tried making the joke you always did.

You didn’t know how to respond to that, so you simply nodded. The two of you sat in silence for a little while longer, watching the stars. Finally, Satoru stretched and hopped down from the ledge.

“Goodnight,” he said, giving you a lopsided grin. “And happy birthday.”

You blinked at him, caught off guard by the warmth in his voice. “You too,” you said softly.

As he closed the door as softly as he could behind him, you stared out at the stars, wondering if maybe, just maybe, they had started listening after all.

──── ୨ৎ ────

The sound of hooves clattering against the cobblestone path filled the air as the royal carriage swayed gently on its way to the prestigious School of Royalty. The morning sun cast a golden glow on the lush green fields outside, but inside, the atmosphere was both tense and excited.

“You know,” Satoru began, leaning lazily against the plush velvet seat, “I heard there’s a whole batch of new exchange students joining today. Rumor is, one of them’s from the Silver Crescent Kingdom. Ever seen anyone from there? They’re supposed to have that, uh… ‘ethereal glow.’ You think that’s real, or just something people say?”

You barely glanced up from the notebook in your lap, furrowing your brows as you paused your incoherent babbling of equations. “If you spent half as much time studying for the exam as you do gossiping, maybe you wouldn’t need to cheat off me later.”

He smirked, unbothered. “Cheat? Me? I’m offended. I’m just naturally brilliant.”

“And naturally annoying,” you muttered, flipping to another page of hastily scribbled notes.

Satoru ignored the jab, his grin widening. At fifteen, he’d grown into someone who couldn’t step into a room without people swooning for his attention. You guessed it was just a Gojo thing he inherited from his mother. The girls adored him — some from afar, others more boldly (you still cringe remembering that one time a girl with a sorry excuse of a top was taken away by your guards for trying to get a kiss from him last year) — and the boys either envied or wanted to be him. The name “Satoru Gojo” seemed to be whispered wherever he went, and he couldn’t be happier.

You, on the other hand, had decided that the attention you receive at your house was enough to satisfy you for a lifetime, and you would rather spend your time learning something new — at least, that’s what you told your mother; that you would rather cry over your grades than guys, to which Satoru had cleverly remarked, “Why not both?” earning a glare from his mother. While you did have friends, and you did seem to be friendly with everyone around you, you would watch in dismay when most of these friends would recite their love stories, and you had nothing to share. The boys barely noticed you, too busy being gay over Satoru. But you had your books, your achievements, and the satisfaction of knowing you didn’t need anyone’s approval.

“And get this,” Satoru continued, his excitement growing. “I heard one of them’s some kind of prodigy. Like, they mastered advanced magic when they were ten. Can you imagine? Finally, someone who might be able to keep up with me. They’re a senior too, so I want to see the look on their face when they realize I’m better than them.”

“Mhm,” you replied distractedly, not bothering to look up. You were too busy with the definition of archaic spellcasting principles and the formulas for mana stabilization to muster a reply of more than a single syllable. The exam was in less than an hour, and the thought of failing even one question sent a jolt of anxiety through you.

Satoru leaned forward, peering at your notes upside down. “What’s that? Something about magic circles? You’re still on those? I mastered those ages ago.”

You snapped your notebook shut and shot him a glare. “You didn’t ‘master’ anything. You just wing it and hope for the best.”

“Hey, it works, doesn’t it?” He shrugged. “Besides, you’ll cover for me if I mess up. That’s what partners are for.”

“We’re not partners.”

“Sure we are,” he said breezily. “Partners in crime. Mischief-makers extraordinaire. The unbeatable duo.” He winked, and you rolled your eyes so hard it was a wonder they didn’t fall out of your head.

The carriage hit a bump, causing you to clutch your notes tighter. Satoru, unfazed, lounged back in his seat and stared out of the window. “You know, you should relax a little. Exams aren’t life or death.”

“For you, maybe. Some of us don’t have a safety net made of charm and raw talent.”

He laughed, the sound warm and unguarded. “Wow, you really think I’m charming and talented? Thanks, baby.”

You didn’t dignify that dumb statement with a response. Instead, you turned your attention back to your notes, determined to make use of every second you had left.

The carriage began to slow, signaling their arrival at the school gates. Satoru straightened, his excitement palpable. “Here we go. Time to make an impression. Think the exchange students are going to swoon over me?”

“Only if they have no taste,” you muttered, gathering your things.

He grinned, standing and offering you a hand as the carriage came to a stop. “Come on, don’t be such a poopy.”

You cringed again before taking his hand, letting him help you down. The moment your feet touched the ground, the buzz of the school grounds surrounded you. Students swarmed the entrance, chattering excitedly about everything from the new arrivals to last-minute cramming for the exam.

Satoru strode ahead confidently, while you lingered a step behind, clutching your notes tightly. He glanced at you, running back to catch up with you. “Where’s Kuro? He’s supposed to be part of the dramatic entrance I had planned.”

“I sent him away. He was annoying me with the confetti.” “You— WHAT?”

You ignored him, continuing to walk up the stairs leading to your exam hall without looking up at anyone. Satoru jogged beside you.

“We haven’t met with any of the exchange students yet!” “Satoru, if you want to, then leave.”

He pouted, planting your face in front of yours above your notes. “You know I won’t leave you.”

“Then stay quiet and let me study.” “Alright, alright,” he said, sighing. He stared at you for a few moments, pacing around the hall with you while you muttered curses under your breath. He smiled. You always hated this one subject but felt the need to excel in it anyway. “Hey,” he said softly. “You’ll do great, you know.”

The sincerity in his voice caught you off guard, but you masked it with a scoff. “You’d better hope so. If I fail, you’ll fail too.”

He laughed again, a sound as effortless as everything else about him. “That’s true. Can’t impress anyone with an F on the paper, can I?” The loud bell rang, and Satoru moved to cover your ears with the palms of his hands. “I’ve got you covered, princess. In return, you must guarantee that I pass.”

You smiled a genuine smile at him, something you had gotten quite used to doing in the past four years you had spent with your new family. “I can’t guarantee that. Let’s go, I’m done now.”

His eyes widened comically, “What do you mean you can’t guarantee that?” You laughed at him, and he snatched your notebook from your hands. “Give me that! Oh god. I’m doomed, aren’t I?”

“Yup, let’s go now.”

The exam hall echoed with the sound of faint murmurs and the occasional nervous coughs. While theory had been nerve-wracking, at least you had been able to cram for it. But the practicals? They were a whole different beast. No amount of late-night revisions could prepare you for actual spellwork.

You clutched your wand tightly, its polished surface cold and smooth against your clammy palms. The examiner called your name, and your stomach flipped. Taking a deep breath, you stepped forward. What were the steps again? Swing your wand, say the words, and hope for the best.

You stood before the enchanted apparatus. It was a simple magical round glass that would respond to the accuracy of your spell, changing its colour accordingly. The orb pulsed softly, steams of gas floating stilly in its interior, waiting. You were supposed to transfigure a cactus into a goblet full of water. The room was silent, dozens of eyes boring into your back.

Why did they have to make everyone do the practicals individually, and on stage?

You closed your eyes briefly, mustering every ounce of focus. With a flick of your wand and the carefully practiced words spilling from your lips, you executed the spell. Wand still in the air, you waited. And waited. And waited. Nothing happened. Then, the orb glowed a brilliant gold.

“Perfect!” The elderly professor cried, clasping her hands together. She really liked you. “Next, please.”

Relief washed over you, and you felt a disbelieving smile creep onto your face. Scooting off the stage, you climbed down the stairs to your seat. You caught Satoru’s eye and mouthed, Good luck. He was slouching on his chair, winking at you and giving you a lazy thumbs-up.

Just as you sat down, you noticed your gaze didn’t leave him. You kept looking at him, how effortlessly good he looked in his outfit, sunglasses perched languidly on his nose. He was looking straight ahead at the stage above, and you glanced at the front too. Shoko got a pale yellow glow from the orb, an easy B.

Your eyes wandered to the girl in line ahead of Satoru. You recognized her instantly, how could you not? Wavy chestnut hair that caught the light just so, impeccable posture, an air of confidence that bordered on smug, and her pink lips upright looking behind her. She was from one of the distant kingdoms—brilliant in class, annoyingly charming, and unfortunately, quite pretty. And right now, she seemed pretty happy about being positioned so close to Satoru.

It was the way she was smiling at Satoru that irritated you. Not the polite, fleeting kind of smile you’d give a classmate. No, this was different. She tilted her head slightly, her lips curved in a way that made even you highly uncomfortable. You saw her fingers brush a strand of hair behind her ear — twice, because apparently once wasn’t enough — and she leaned just a fraction closer to him.

You squinted. Was she flirting? She was flirting. Yuck. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, but your jaw tightened. Getting up sneakily from your seat, you joined the crowd they stood with to spy on the two.

“I hear the examiners this year are super strict,” she said, her voice soft and lilting. “Not that you need to worry. I’ve seen you in dueling practice — you’re incredible,” she sighed at him dramatically, eyes turned to hearts.

Satoru blinked at her, then scratched the back of his neck. “Uh, thanks? I guess?”

She laughed — too loud for a casual compliment. “You’re so modest! That’s so rare, you know.” Her eyes sparkled as she stared up at him, clearly hoping he’d reciprocate the energy.

He didn’t. “Modest? Me?” Satoru’s tone was laced with genuine confusion, his brow furrowing slightly. “You sure you’re talking about the right guy?”

You saw Geto, his best friend, stifle a laugh at that, but you didn’t find any of this funny. Geto caught your eye and immediately stopped laughing, trying to inch closer to Satoru to warn him of your incoming wrath.

But the girl kept blocking his way.

“Oh, absolutely,” she said smoothly, leaning in even closer. “I bet you’ll get top marks, as always. You must have so many admirers.”

Your grip on your wand tightened. You might not be as violent as Satoru when it came to dueling, but you couldn’t care less about that at the moment. Nor did you seem to notice the sheer number of students surrounding you.

Satoru, as usual, was utterly oblivious. “Admirers? I sure hope so,” he said with a shrug. “But thanks, I guess?”

You wanted to shake him. How could he not see what she was doing? The way her voice softened whenever she said his name, how her lashes fluttered just a bit too much when she looked at him — it was painfully obvious. And yet, Satoru treated her like he treated everyone else: polite, casual, and just detached enough to make it clear he wasn’t interested.

“Next!” called the examiner, and the girl’s name echoed through the hall.

She turned to Satoru with a dazzling smile. “Wish me luck?”

“Uh, good luck?” he said, scratching his head.

You were half a second away from gagging, Geto slipping from beside Satoru to join you, both of you dissing the situation in hushed whispers.

As she walked away, you muttered under your breath, “Unbelievable.”

Geto muttered, equally frustrated, but this was pointed towards Satoru, “Unbelievable indeed.”

Your eyes followed the movements of her wand, and you tried to calculate the exact angle by which she tilted her wand too high, the length by which her hand movement went wrong and the distance between her wrist and the cactus assigned to her. Geto shook his head at your overly focused expression.

A loud pop filled the air, followed by startled squeaks. Your eyes widened. The examiners scrambled around, now very much turned into rats! The girl froze, her wand dangling uselessly at her side as laughter rippled through the room.

You bit your lip. What were you supposed to be feeling right now? Secondhand embarrassment or vindication? Serves her right, you thought, though a small part of you almost pitied her. Almost.

The headmaster, who had been watching the whole ordeal with an amused expression, quickly restored order, probably glad he wasn’t turned into a mouse or something. He dismissed the rest of the students and awarded automatic A’s to those who hadn’t gone yet.

You groaned and Geto laughed at you, a grimacing Shoko dangling from his arm. Together, the three of you were about to leave the hall when Satoru caught up with you, grinning like he’d just won the lottery. “Wild. Best exam ever. I didn’t even have to do anything!”

You shot him a sideways glance, your mood souring again. “Yeah, lucky you.”

“Wait, are you mad?” he asked, peering at you. “You’re mad. Why are you mad?”

“I’m not mad,” you said shortly, walking faster, waving goodbye to Geto, who was now left alone to deal with a hungry kitten, Shoko.

“You’re definitely mad,” he teased, catching up. “What, is it because I got an A without lifting a finger? Don’t worry, you’ll get to cheat off my usual genius self next time. Maybe you’ll even get an A+++++++ because of me… or whatever the highest grade is.”

“Right,” you said, rolling your eyes. “You’re so modest,” you mimicked the girl from earlier, but he didn’t get the reference.

At break, you sat under the shade of a tree, quietly eating your snack and watching the courtyard buzz with post-exam chatter. Across the lawn, the girl was crying into her boyfriend’s shoulder, her wails loud enough to carry. You frowned, unsure whether to feel sorry for or annoyed at her.

Her boyfriend, a tall, broad-shouldered guy from her kingdom, seemed to be comforting her, rubbing her back and murmuring reassurances. Weird, you thought. He doesn’t even know he’s worse than Satoru in her eyes.

The suspension had been swift: four months for reckless and dangerous spellcasting. Watching her now, you couldn’t muster much sympathy. It was one thing to fail; it was another to fail so dramatically. It’s what she deserves.

Satoru plopped down beside you, unwrapping a burger he’d somehow acquired (probably chased after Shoko to steal her food). “Hey, isn’t that, uh... Britney? No, wait, Bridget? Or... Burger?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Burger?”

“Yeah, burger,” he said, taking a huge bite and gesturing vaguely in her direction. “She’s got layers, y’know? Like a burger.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you said, shaking your head.

“C’mon, you gotta admit it’s funny,” he said, his grin widening. “She tries to turn on the charm, and bam! Instant ratification.”

You groaned at the pun, but laughter bubbled up anyway. Satoru’s dumb humor always had a way of disarming you.

“Heyyyyyyyy!” A voice dragged out, and you were met with a flash of dark blue hair before you were hugged tightly. “I heard your exam went great, but then, of course it did.” She patted your head. “Well done.”

“Thanks, Utahime.”

“No need to thank me,” Utahime pulled out your favourite chips from her bag and handed them to you.

“Hey, nothing for me?” Satoru wailed.

“Who the fuck are you?” “Rude.”

She ignored him and turned back to you. “Anyway, did you see any of the new exchange students? They’re good-looking.”

“So?” You munched on your chips.

“So,” she said loudly, shooing Satoru off to sit in his place next to you, “we can finally get you a boyfriend.”

Satoru snorted. “Boyfriend? Why does she need a boyfriend?”

“And,” she stepped on his foot with her heel and he skipped away across the courtyard, foot in his hand and muttering curses under his breath. “There’s that prodigy guy. You two could have been academic rivals if he was in your grade. Ugh, this is so annoying. Couldn’t he repeat a few classes? Dumbass.”

“Uh, I’m not interes—” “Yes, you are,” she looked at you with a wide, crazy smile as if daring you to disagree, and you gulped.“No wasting time watching couples break up,” she pointed at the girl in front of you, whose boyfriend seemed to have heard of the real reason she messed up her spell. Utahime lifted you by one arm and practically flew the yards to reach the main hall, where your assembly would take place to welcome the exchange students.

The assembly hall buzzed with anticipation, the crowd of students shifting restlessly as they filled the rows of wooden benches. Your arm still ached from Utahime dragging you all the way here. You, on the other hand, couldn’t help but feel drained—physically and emotionally.

The morning’s drama was still fresh in your mind, particularly the girl’s humiliating display. The idea of someone so brazenly cozying up to Satoru still gnawed at you. And now, you had to sit through an assembly to greet some mysterious prodigies who probably thought they were better than everyone else. Perfect.

“Sit here,” Utahime ordered, pointing to a spot near the front. “I need a good view.”

“Of what?” you asked, dropping onto the bench with a huff.

“Duh, the new guys. Maybe one of them will be your destined academic rival-slash-love interest,” she said dramatically, clasping her hands like a cheesy romance novel heroine.

You rolled your eyes. “I’m fine without one, thanks.”

“Oh, don’t be boring,” she said, plopping down beside you. “You need some excitement in your life. Besides, I heard some of the new guys are supposed to be really good-looking,” she whispered, leaning in as if discussing a conspiracy theory involving the Monarchy of Mars. “Like, model good-looking.”

You let out a noncommittal hum, tracing the edge of the seat in front of you with a finger. Utahime nudged you. “Don’t you care? Come on, aren’t you curious?”

“Not really,” you lied.

Utahime rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed. “Sure, sure. But if someone walks in here looking like a movie star, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Your gaze wandered to the double doors at the front of the hall, where the new students were supposed to enter. You didn’t care much about the guys. But what if there were girls? Pretty girls. The kind with perfect skin and perfect hair and that effortless grace you always seemed to lack.

Your stomach churned. Why were you even thinking about that?

You glanced at Utahime, still chattering away about rumors she’d heard excitedly. She was bouncing slightly in her seat, her eyes scanning the room like a hawk. But you couldn’t shake the thought — what if everyone thought the other girls were prettier? You could almost smell the break up stories your dozen friends would fetch for you because the new girls seemed hotter to the dung-nosed guys of your school.

“For the next few months, I will be stuck amidst boy troubles,” you muttered, glancing across the hall. Satoru had finally joined the crowd, sauntering in late as usual. He spotted you almost immediately and shot you a wink before sliding into a seat with Geto and Shoko.

Your stomach did an involuntary flip, but you shoved the feeling down. He was just being Satoru like always. That’s all it was.

Right?

The headmaster’s booming voice filled the hall. “Welcome, students, to this year’s exchange program orientation!”

The crowd settled as the headmaster launched into a long-winded speech about tradition, excellence, and the importance of collaboration between kingdoms. You zoned out almost immediately, your eyes drifting back to Satoru.

He was whispering something to Geto, who smirked and nudged him in the ribs. Shoko looked utterly disinterested, flipping through a medical journal she’d smuggled in. Typical.

You pulled your eyes away from them. The last time you had zoned out in class because of him, your mood had been soured for the whole following hour. The sound of applause gave you an excuse out of your reverie. The exchange students were being introduced now, stepping onto the stage one by one. They were all polished, confident, and, admittedly, quite impressive.

Utahime elbowed you sharply. “Look at that one!” she hissed, nodding toward a tall boy with striking blond hair and piercing brown eyes.

You blinked. “Looks like he walked out of a painting.”

“Exactly,” she said, smirking. “He’s perfect for you.”

You groaned. “Can we not do this right now?”

Utahime ignored you entirely, listing off reasons why he’d make a great boyfriend: “Smart, handsome, probably good at magic—”

“Definitely better at cactus transfiguration,” you muttered, earning a snort of laughter from her.

Meanwhile, Satoru had twisted around in his seat, craning his neck to see what the commotion was about. When his eyes landed on you and Utahime, his expression soured slightly. He didn’t like being left out, and it was written all over his face.

“Who’s better at cactus transfiguration?” He suddenly appeared behind you.

“None of your business,” Utahime shot back, sticking her tongue out.

“Wow, mature,” Satoru deadpanned.

The assembly droned on, with each exchange student introducing themselves in turn. You tried to pay attention, really, but your mind kept wandering. Utahime’s ridiculous matchmaking schemes. Satoru’s infuriatingly perfect smile. The girl’s earlier meltdown. It was all swirling together into a chaotic mess of emotions you didn’t have the energy to untangle.

Finally, the headmaster wrapped up his speech with a flourish. “Let’s give our guests a warm welcome!” he declared, prompting another round of applause.

As the crowd began to disperse, Utahime grabbed your arm again. “Come on, let’s go talk to him!”

“To who?” you asked, bewildered. “The blond-haired guy, obviously!”

“Absolutely not,” you said, digging your heels into the ground.

But before you could argue further, a familiar voice interrupted.

“Leaving without saying hi? Rude.”

You turned to find Satoru standing behind you still, his trademark grin firmly in place.

Utahime groaned. “Go away, Gojo.”

“Can’t. I’m here to rescue my friend from your matchmaking madness,” he said, draping an arm over your shoulder.

You tried to shrug him off, but he held on tight, his presence annoyingly comforting.

“Why do you care?” Utahime shot back.

Satoru’s grin widened, but his tone was surprisingly serious. “Because she doesn’t need some random guy when she’s got me.”

He tugged you away, leaving Utahime fuming in his wake.

“Thanks for the save,” you mumbled once you were out of earshot.

“Anytime,” Satoru said lightly, though there was an edge to his voice you couldn’t quite place. “And besides, didn’t want you to end up with an annoying mother—”

You raised an eyebrow at him. Did he forget he was in a royal school where all the students and teachers were high-class nobles and the mere mention of vocabulary outside of the poshed-up ones exclusively for the rich would make him an infamous wreck in everyone’s eyes?

He caught your eye and continued, “—trucker.”

──── ୨ৎ ────

The dining table was as extravagant as ever, its polished surface reflecting the golden glow of the chandelier overhead. Plates were neatly arranged, and bowls of steaming food were placed in a perfect line down the centre. Mother sat at the head of the table, her posture so upright it made your back ache just looking at her. Across from her sat Father, whose stern expression was an almost permanent fixture at meals.

You occupied your usual spot, tucked between Satoru and his mother, a position that felt both safe and stifling. Satoru, of course, lounged in his chair as if it were a throne, pushing peas around his plate with one chopstick, clearly uninterested in the discussion at hand. It was peaceful and calm. But as soon as Satoru’s father set down his chopsticks, you knew this tranquillity wouldn’t last.

“Satoru,” his father began.

Satoru didn’t even look up, lazily poking at his food. “Uh oh. Here we go.”

“Don’t start,” his mother said sharply, and Satoru sighed dramatically, dropping his chopsticks like they were too heavy to hold.

“Fine. What is it this time? Did someone see me napping in class? Because, for the record, I was listening with my eyes closed.”

“Your instructor tells me your theoretical scores are excellent, as expected,” Satoru’s mother began, her sharp gaze sweeping across the table to land on him. “But your duel with Suguru during last week’s practice was... undisciplined.”

Satoru shrugged, not bothering to look up. “It’s not my fault Suguru got cocky.”

His father’s goblet hit the plate with a sharp clink. “And whose fault is it that you refuse to follow proper form? You’re not dueling for fun, Satoru. These exercises are meant to sharpen your skills for real combat.”

You could feel the tension grow, so you instinctively focused on the rice in your bowl. Satoru, however, leaned back in his chair, completely unfazed.

“Real combat isn’t about sticking to the rulebook,” he said lazily, resting an arm on the back of your chair. “It’s about adaptability.”

“That is not an excuse to showboat,” his mother snapped. “You might think you’re untouchable, but arrogance will get you killed one day.”

For a brief moment, something flickered in his eyes — irritation, maybe, or defiance — but he masked it with a grin. “Not likely.”

“Only because you’re naturally talented,” his mother interjected coldly. “Talent will only carry you so far, Satoru. You lack discipline, respect, and—”

“Manners,” his father finished, glaring at him.

His mother pinched the bridge of her nose. “All we’re trying to make you understand is, this isn’t a joke, Satoru. You’re supposed to be the strongest, and yet you’re constantly underperforming. Meanwhile, look at her.” She gestured to you, and your heart sank.

“Oh no,” you muttered under your breath.

“Look at her,” his mother repeated. “Top marks in every subject, excellent dueling reports, and the teachers can’t stop praising. Why can’t you be more like her?”

Satoru threw up his hands. “Because she’s a robot! Have you seen her handwriting? It’s terrifying!”

“I just have neat handwriting,” you mumbled defensively.

“Neat? It’s like a calligraphy competition on every page,” Satoru said, jabbing a chopstick at you. “She probably practices writing spells for fun.”

“She’s perfect,” his father said firmly, as if it were an unshakable fact of the universe.

“Exactly my point!” Satoru exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air. “How am I supposed to compete with that?!”

“You’ve been doing wonderfully,” his mother interrupted warmly, and you almost choked on your water. She reached to kiss your forehead and you felt fuzzy all over.

“Really?” you said hopefully.

“Yes,” his father agreed, nodding. “We’re very impressed with your progress. And your last dueling performance was flawless. Keep it up.”

Satoru’s jaw dropped. “What? That’s it? No lecture about being even better? No existential guilt trip?”

“She doesn’t need one,” his mother said simply.

“She’s already self-motivated,” his father added.

Satoru gawked at them, then at you. “Wait, are you seriously not going to roast her? Not even a little?”

His mother held up a hand to silence the banter. “Enough. We’re not here to discuss her. We’re here to discuss you and your inability to take anything seriously.”

“I take plenty of things seriously!” Satoru protested.

“Name one,” his father challenged.

Satoru opened his mouth, paused, then pointed to you. “Her.”

You nearly choked on your rice. “What?!”

“See? I take her academic success very seriously,” he continued smoothly. “She’s basically my tutor at this point. Without her, I’d probably be failing food transfiguration.”

“Food transfiguration is not the metric for success,” his father said dryly, but his lips twitched like he was trying not to laugh.

“And yet, it’s a class!” Satoru shot back. “A class I pass, thanks to her.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Please stop talking.”

“Never,” Satoru said cheerfully, ruffling your hair like you were a pet.

The room went silent for a beat, and then his father muttered, “Pass the rice.”

You couldn’t help but snort, quickly covering your mouth to stifle your laughter. Satoru’s grin widened, clearly taking your reaction as a victory.

“I’m serious about the food transfiguration, though,” he whispered to you as the conversation shifted. “You saved me from flunking that one.”

“By telling you to stop turning the chicken into a dinosaur?” you whispered back, rolling your eyes.

“Exactly. Genius advice.” Satoru sighed, slumping dramatically. "I swear, if I weren’t so charming, I’d be useless."

“You are,” you replied, teasing him with a grin.

──── ୨ৎ ────

The foreign exchange students filed into the classroom. You hadn’t met any of them yet, but the instant you saw a giggling pack of girls, dressed in a way that clearly screamed “I’m a tourist, please give me attention,” take seats scattered around the room, you knew this would be a long class. They were chatting loudly, condescending smiles on their faces and prissy postures to back it up. One of them locked eyes with you and stood up.

The girl scanned the room, perhaps trying to find something to shift the attention of the bustling and noisy class to her. Sitting beside you, Geto didn’t even flinch as the girl cleared her throat loudly. You could feel it. She was about to open her mouth.

And open it she did.

“Do you guys feel,” she addressed her fellow exchange people, “that the culture here is a bit… Well, I don’t know what you'd call it. Primitive, I guess? It’s like they just dug it up from some ancient ruins," she said, waving a hand dismissively, as if she were talking about a dusty artefact. “This whole— uhm— ‘honour’ thing? So outdated. I didn’t find any such codes on how to behave in the culture of the South, or the West, or the South-West. Maybe it is because the people here still need to be taught manners, I suppose.”

The other students, contrary to what she had hoped, didn’t pay any attention to her. They didn’t seem to have heard her, because if they had… well, all of them were from noble clans, of course they would have a problem with it.

The girl didn’t seem to notice. Or care.

“You there!” She screeched at you, coming to a halt in front of your desk after pacing around like she was delivering an important lecture. “I heard you’re the top student. Representative, or something, they told me. Like—” she turned to face you more directly, suddenly noticing the lack of a surname on your badge “—wow, you don’t even have a last name. I heard you were from the Gojo clan. But, I mean, you don’t even have their surname? Were you picked up from some ditch or something?”

You flushed. Most of the students were tactful enough to not point that out to you, and if they did, they would return with a bruise soon after, credit to Satoru. But Satoru was in the hospital wing right now, and thankfully so, because you didn’t want him making a scene here in the middle of your Charms class. Geto’s fingers brushed lightly against your arm; he was trying to calm you down. He didn’t need to say anything; you already knew what he was thinking.

Shoko, sitting in front of you, shifted in her seat. Her fingers twitched toward her coat pocket, and you could swear you felt a chill run down your spine at the look she had on her face. Shoko’s glare was murderous, and her hand slowly moved to her doctor’s tools — just a few inches away from hurling them at the girl’s smug face.

“Don’t bother,” Geto murmured under his breath. “Let her go on. She’s not worth the energy.” His eyes never left you as he spoke, a detached smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Ignore her, Shoko.”

The girl leaned on your desk as you continued to determinedly stare at a spot on your notebook

“Oh, but wait,” she continued haughtily, “you must’ve been a mistake. I mean, the Gojo clan leaders, right? They couldn’t possibly have any sense of judgement, could they? Considering who their son is, who he’s raised by. They probably just took in anyone, huh? Just to fill the numbers. I bet they didn’t even care to see if you had any real worth.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Geto interrupted her calmly, his smile widening, a maddenned look in his eyes. “If you don’t stop right now, you might have to deal with a curse or two, because I’m not exactly one to be afraid of duelling in front of teachers.”

Alina was unfazed, leaning back in her chair with a smirk plastered across her face. “Oh, I so do. You can’t silence me. The Gojo clan is only famous because they have money and influence — nothing more.” She leaned forward again, her eyes narrowing. “And the leaders? They’re a joke. All that power, and they still let their precious son — what’s his name? Satoru? —play around like the child he is. Tell me, do you ever wonder if he’s actually good for anything besides being the ‘chosen one?’ Or is it just another piece of their precious family’s empire?”

No.

That was it.

You snapped. Your body moved before your brain could catch up. Pulling out your wand from your pocket, you let the cold tip touch her throat. The girl immediately shut up, caught off guard and not having the time to reach her own wand, which was kept on the table her friends were sitting at.

“What’s wrong? Can’t speak? I’d love to hear more from that croak of a voice you possess. Please, go on with your pathetic guesses about my lineage.”

“Don’t,” Geto warned, but you were too blinded by the ringing echo of her words about your family. Shoko was already gripping the side of her desk, looking like she wanted to step in.

“You want me to speak more?” The girl said. “I can speak more. Because I know what you are. I would have felt sorry for you if you weren’t so stuck up though. As they say, no power, no future.”

Before you could retort, or even say a quick charm to freeze her throat so it snapped in half, the door flew open, and a voice interrupted your anger.

"Both of you, in my office. Now."

It was the teacher, standing in the doorway, arms crossed, clearly fed up. Without missing a beat, you spun on your heel, flicking a glance at Geto and Shoko.

──── ୨ৎ ────

It was oddly quiet in the headmaster’s office. You sat alone at the desk, gloves pulled snug over your hands, a rag in one and a half-polished trophy in the other. The cleaning did little to distract you from the frustration you felt.

The headmaster’s words still rang in your ears: “Detention builds character, and perhaps a lesson in self-control will serve you well.”

Self-control. As if it was your fault someone had insulted your family.

The soft creak of the door interrupted your thoughts. You stilled, expecting the headmaster to return and scold you for slacking off. Instead, a familiar white head of hair peeked around the doorframe.

"What the—" you hissed. "Are you insane? If someone catches you here—"

“Wow. You, of all people, getting detention?”

Satoru leaned casually against the doorframe, his arms crossed and a lazy smirk on his face.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, your voice sharper than you intended.

“Came to pick you up,” he said, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “Kuro was freaking out because he didn’t know why we weren’t at the gates, so I told him to head home without us.”

“You didn’t have to—”

“Relax. He’s used to me pulling stuff like this.” Satoru strolled into the room, glancing around with mild interest before his eyes landed on the pile of trophies waiting to be polished. “So... what’s the story? Did you finally snap and hex someone?”

You rolled your eyes, turning back to the trophy in front of you. “Shouldn’t you be hiding somewhere? I mean, you’re not supposed to be here after school.”

“Oh, I’m cutting it. I figured detention with you would be more fun.”

You ignored him, hoping he’d get bored and leave, but Satoru was never one to take a hint. He perched on the edge of the desk beside you.

“Come on,” he said, nudging your arm lightly. “Tell me what happened.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, refusing to look at him. “Nothing. Just... a disagreement.”

“A disagreement?” he repeated, raising an eyebrow. “That’s all you’re giving me?”

You stayed silent, scrubbing furiously at a nonexistent smudge on the trophy. But your hands were shaking slightly, and he noticed.

His teasing expression softened. “Hey,” he said quietly, leaning closer and nuzzling your hair. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” you said quickly, but the crack in your voice betrayed you. You cursed under your breath, setting the trophy down harder than you intended.

“Right,” Satoru said dryly. “You know lying is a sin, right?”

Before you could stop him, he reached out and plucked the rag from your hand. You opened your mouth to protest, but he cut you off with a firm look.

“Enough,” he said, tossing the rag onto the desk. He grabbed your hands, tugging the gloves off gently, his touch warm and steady against your cold fingers.

“Satoru, what are you—”

“Helping,” he said simply.

You stared at him, your breath hitching slightly as he held your hands in his. His grip was firm but gentle, his thumbs brushing over your knuckles.

“You shouldn’t have done it,” he said after a moment, his voice quieter now. “Gotten detention, I mean.”

Your throat tightened, and you looked away. “I didn’t even do much. I just threatened her, ‘s all—”

“I know,” he said. “But you didn’t have to stand up for me like that.”

“Yes, I did.” The words came out sharper than you intended, but you didn’t care. “She had no right to talk about your family like that. Or mine,” you added quietly.

Satoru’s expression softened, and he sighed, letting go of your hands only to pull you into a hug. Your breath stopped. It was so sudden and unexpected, but his arms around you were so warm and secure, and for a moment, you forgot just how cold the office was.

“Thank you,” he murmured against your hair. “For putting us first.”

You swallowed hard, your face pressed against his shoulder. You could feel his heartbeat. His vanilla scent filled your nostrils, and you couldn’t help but sigh at the sensation.

Just what were you feeling?

He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head. The gesture was so gentle, so unexpected, that it sent a shiver down your spine. Goosebumps prickled along your arms, and your breath caught in your throat. Eyes widening on his chest.

Satoru pulled back slightly, his hands still resting lightly on your shoulders. He studied your face for a moment, his gaze searching, before giving you a small, crooked smile.

“Alright there?” he asked softly.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. His smile widened, and he gave your shoulders a reassuring squeeze before stepping back.

“Good,” he said, picking up your gloves and the rag you had abandoned. “Because I think it’s my turn to polish these things. You’ve done enough.”

You blinked at him, confused. “You can’t just—”

“Too late.” He waved the rag dramatically, grinning. “Go sit down and relax. Perfect students need to take a break to be imperfect once in a while.”

Despite yourself, a smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He waved you off, already humming to himself as he began scrubbing.

──── ୨ৎ ────

You sat with your detention homework in your garden after the headmaster had insisted on giving you some more ‘punishments’ for letting Satoru in his office. On the stone bench, you glared at the crumpled detention slip in your hands. The words from earlier still rang in your ears.

Wow, you don’t even have a last name. I heard you were from the Gojo clan. But, I mean, you don’t even have their surname? Were you picked up from some ditch or something?

You must've been a mistake

The nerve of that girl, whatever her name was. She had no right to talk like that. But as much as you hated to admit it, her words dug deep. Why didn’t you have the surname? Why were you even here?

You sighed, staring down at your hands, throwing the slip away and watching it skid between bushes. The gate creaked, pulling you from your thoughts. Satoru’s mother stepped into the garden. She always seemed to know when something was wrong.

She smiled warmly as she approached. “Trouble at school?”

You let out a small huff, tossing the detention homework onto the bench. “Some girl decided to remind me I don’t belong here,” you muttered. “She’s not wrong. I mean, I don’t even have your family name. I’m just... here.”

Her expression softened, and she sat down beside you. “Suguru told me it was someone from the Kamo clan. She said that, did she?”

You nodded. “She made it sound like I’m just some random stray you all picked up out of pity.”

A shadow flickered across her face, but she stayed silent for a moment, as if weighing her words carefully. Then she sighed softly and folded her hands neatly in her lap. “You don’t carry the Gojo surname yet because... you aren’t meant to. One day, you will.”

You were confused. “One day? What are you talking about?”

Her gaze softened further, and she reached for your hand. “You’re not here because of pity. You’re here because I care for you deeply. You’re family to me. And... well, you’re engaged, my dear. To Satoru.”

The words hit you like a thunderclap. “Engaged?” you whispered.

She nodded gently. “It was my decision. Not to strengthen ties or fulfill some tradition — I couldn’t bear the thought of marrying you off to anyone else. You’re important to me, and to this family. No one else would cherish you the way you deserve. No one else would love you the way I know he can.”

Your head was spinning. Engaged? To Satoru? The same Satoru who stole your dessert, teased you relentlessly, and drove you up the wall with his arrogance?

“Does he know?” you managed to ask.

A small, amused smile tugged at her lips. “Not yet. I’m waiting for the right time to tell him. You know how he is — he’d probably react with some ridiculous joke or dismiss it entirely without thinking it through.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “You mean I’m supposed to sit on this bombshell while he’s running around like an overgrown child?”

She chuckled softly, reaching over to pat your shoulder. “It’s not so bad. You’ve already grown close to him, haven’t you?”

Close. You couldn’t deny it. In the past few years, you had gone from tolerating his antics to — well, something. The butterflies in your stomach betrayed you every time he smiled or stood too close.

But this? This was too much.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” you asked weakly, peeking through your fingers.

“I wanted you to have time to figure out your feelings without the weight of this hanging over you,” she admitted. “And... I wasn’t entirely sure when you’d be ready to hear it. But seeing you upset, questioning your place here, I couldn’t keep it from you any longer. Forgive me, darling.” She stood then. “You’re exactly where you’re meant to be,” she said gently. “Never let anyone make you doubt that.”

And with that, she disappeared back into the house, leaving you alone with the truth.

Engaged. To Satoru.

The butterflies in your stomach weren’t just fluttering now—they were staging a full-on rebellion. You let out a groan, slumping back against the bench.

──── ୨ৎ ────

Over a year had passed. The two of you were turning seventeen the next year, and with the increase in your age, the load of schoolwork increased too. The School of Royalty had seen so many changes. They were rebuilding the duelling grounds and organising even more clubs than before. Girls were mysteriously beginning to drop out of school, and you didn’t want to know why. There were less than ten girls in your class of fifty, and you figured this number would reduce even more as women in nobility were hurriedly married off to distant kingdoms, forced to give up their education to serve as a showpiece for the men to flaunt.

You were thankful the Gojo clan saw you as more than that, or you wouldn’t have been in the same class as your friends this year. You couldn’t bear not seeing Utahime, Shoko, Suguru and of course, Satoru.

Satoru.

The one you had realized you didn’t want if he wasn’t looking at you at all times, if he wasn’t talking to you at all times, or cracking jokes to you at all times. The one you had realized you wanted more of, more than what the two of you are now, more than what you two have ever been, more than friends, more than best friends; you wanted him more than anything in the world. Him, him, him, him. You wanted his eyes on you, his hands on you. You wanted everything about him. Everything. Every single thing—

“Hey, you alive?” His voice snapped you back to reality.

“Huh? Oh yeah.”

“I was saying,” he pulled a girl towards him by her hands and she landed on his chest with a dull thump. “This is Alina.”

You stared at her. Triumphant looking face, lips giggling into the broad layer of his front.

Wait.Wasn’t she—?

“You might remember her,” Satoru pressed. You did. Vividly.

Oh.

“She needs some duelling practice apparently, so she’s gonna be watching us from there,” he points at the stands. “Hope you don’t mind.”

“Oh, yeah, it’s okay,” you said in a voice you didn’t know you owned. The words felt so heavy on your tongue, as if it was an entirely different person speaking them.

“Great, thanks,” he ushered the girl back to the stands and leaned down to kiss the top of your forehead again. You blinked.

Oh, no, he didn’t see it like that at all.To him, it was just a gesture he had grown used to doing. Yeah.

You stood across from him on the training field, your stance ready and tense. The sunlight was bright today, almost too bright, and you didn’t know if it was the heat or the sudden emptiness you felt. Satoru smiled at you, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“You ready?” he asked, voice nonchalant. It wasn’t the usual teasing edge. The spark was missing.

You nodded.

“I’ve got you today, Gojo,” you tried making the dumb jokes he used to make. You weren’t sure if it was working, but you tried anyway.

The sparring session started, but something felt wrong. Satoru’s movements were slower than usual, his focus elsewhere. He kept glancing at the stands from time to time, as if trying to see if she was watching him. He didn’t block your attack in time, letting you knock him down with ease.

“You alright?” You bent down to help him up, but he just waved you off, a tight smile on his face.

“Yeah, yeah. Just… tired, I guess,” he shrugged, avoiding your eyes.

Alina came running down the stands, her hands clutched on her chest, fussing over him while he waved her off too, getting up.

“Another one?” “No, thank you.”

That was the first time you had ever said no to him.

──── ୨ৎ ────

Later that week, you walked into the cafeteria, hoping to find Utahime and grab a quick meal before your History class. You were halfway into the queue before you realized Utahime had Charms class right now. After all, she was a senior of yours; she would have more schoolwork than you. So you were about to take the tray you got to one of the empty tables alone, hoping to find someone else.

And you did find someone. Satoru sat across from Alina as comfortable as ever. They looked like they were on a date. Was this why he had skipped a class he had with you?

“Oh, hey,” he greeted you when you approached, but his voice lacked its usual warmth. There was a coolness in it, like he wasn’t really there.

The girl’s voice broke into the silence, bright and too eager. “I was just telling Satoru about how I’m finally starting to get the hang of wand control now. I know he’s been busy with other stuff, but he’s still managed to help me out.”

You felt the hairs on your neck prickle.

“That's great,” you said, keeping your tone neutral. “I'm sure Satoru is happy to help.”

You tried to keep your expression even as you sat down on their table. Wrong choice. Satoru, oblivious or indifferent, didn’t seem to notice any sort of tension in the air. He smiled, nodding along to whatever the girl was saying, while you forced a smile and picked at your food.

You felt like an outsider.

──── ୨ৎ ────

That same week, after a banquet of the noble families held at the Gojo clan’s immaculate residence, you were walking alone towards the girls’ dorms when you overheard two voices seemingly arguing calmly. You pressed an ear onto the door hiding the people.

“You don’t seem to realize your Alina is the same girl who was insulting your own family,” Suguru was saying. “She got us into trouble too. You weren’t there so you don’t know how bad she talked about—”

“I know she’s not like how she was before,” Satoru interrupted loudly. “And I know you guys still have a problem with her, but you’ve got to trust me, okay? She’s changed.”

Your heart sank. “Changed?” Suguru repeated bitterly. “Really? After everything she said about the Gojo clan?”

He didn’t reply right away, but when he finally spoke, it was with that soft, almost apologetic tone.

“I get it. I really do. But she’s… trying, okay? She’s not the same person.”

You clenched your jaw, your hands trembling slightly at your sides. You felt numb all over. Uprooting one leg from your position, you walked backwards, away from your heartbreak.

“I don’t know if I can believe that, Satoru. Not after everything she did.” “I know, but please. Try, for me?”

Your back hit the pillar and you stopped. Slowly lifting feet one after the other, you walked. You didn’t know where you were walking to, but you just walked. You didn’t know what hurt more: the fact that he was asking you to trust her, or the fact that you wanted to — because you trusted him so much.

“There you are!” Utahime caught up to you. “Where did you go? How can you get lost in your own house—” You lifted your face up to her, and she looked taken aback. She inhaled, wiping tears you never realized started falling after stinging your eyes so bad, and she asked in an uncharacteristically soft voice. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

“Utahime—” your voice broke.

──── ୨ৎ ────

You were walking down the school halls, your mind preoccupied with your own thoughts as you made your way to the classroom. The noise of chatter and the shuffle of students faded into the background, making you realize you were starting to zone out again. You seemed to do that a lot these days.

“And I just know it will be you!” Alina’s voice cut through, syrupy, too sweet to be sincere. You froze, stopping behind a pillar. They were standing conveniently near the same path you had to cross to get to your class. Great. Now you had to bite back any snide remarks you had because poor Satoru would be upset if you didn’t.

You peeked out. Alina was leaning against the wall, her laughter light and airy as she spoke to Satoru, who was right beside her, looking at her with that familiar, careless smile he used to reserve for you, one that you had now grown to hate.

You could hear her complimenting him, the way she laughed too loudly at every word of his. “Oh, Satoru, your technique today was amazing, as always! I honestly don’t know just how you do it.” Her tone was sugary, and you cringed. You wanted to look away, but something held you in place, as if some invisible force was gripping you to that spot, making you watch the scene in front of you with red eyes and darkness underneath them.

Then you heard his voice. “Come on, Alina, you’re making me blush,” he chuckled playfully. He was oblivious, as usual (or maybe he wasn’t, and he truly trusted this woman more than his friends). But you weren’t. You noticed how her hands lingered on his arm a little too long, how her fingers curled around his sleeve possessively.

You couldn’t breathe.

You turned, hoping to slip past unnoticed, but of course, she caught sight of you. There was a flicker of something dark in her eyes before she forced a smile onto her face, calling out in that voice that made your skin crawl.

“Oh, hey!” she chirped, calling out your name. “You don’t mind sharing, do you?”

The words hit you like a slap. You were caught between disbelief and anger. How dare she speak to you like that? You glanced at Satoru, hoping he would interject, but he didn’t. He was too busy focusing his attention on her like a complete idiot.

You looked down at the floor, clenching your teeth. “You can have him,” you muttered. You didn’t want to show her how much it hurt, but it was all too clear in your voice and actions.

Alina’s smile faltered for a split second, her eyes narrowing. “Oh, are you sure?” she said, “I’m sure Satoru wouldn’t mind at all. He’s such a generous guy.”

You could hear her subtle challenge, the way she was almost daring you to react. But you didn’t give her the satisfaction. Instead, you straightened up, forcing the words out with a calmness you didn’t feel.

“I’m sure,” you said simply. Not waiting for a response, you turned on your heel and walked away as quickly as you could, your heart pounding in your chest.

Behind you, you could feel her eyes on your back, but you refused to turn around.

You hated her. You hated the way she acted so confident. You hated how she was so entitled. And you hated how Satoru, in all his charm and glory, refused to hear a word against her; how he couldn’t see the way she was trying to wedge herself between not only the two of you but also your entire friend group.

It was always this way, wasn’t it? The more you wanted him, the farther he seemed to slip out of reach.

──── ୨ৎ ────

After a three hour long soak in your bathtub, you decided it was time to go back into your room without anyone noticing. You spent most of your time hiding away from everyone; your parents, your servants, and him anyway, so you doubted anyone would miss you. With a sigh, you wore your nightdress and pushed your bedroom door open.

Satoru was sitting on your bed, his chin in his palms as he stared at the floor, clearly deep in thought and waiting for you to return. The moment you walked in, his gaze snapped to you, and the tension in the room tripled.

“You’re back,” he said. There was something in his voice — you couldn’t point out what exactly it was, but you didn’t like how it made you feel.

“What are you doing in my room?” The words came out harsher than you had intended them to be.

He didn’t answer right away; just sighed heavily, rubbing a hand over his face before standing up and facing you fully. “Why are you always so mean to her?” His voice was quieter now, more frustrated than usual.

You blinked, taken aback. "Mean to whom?" you asked, trying to play dumb.

“Alina,” he said. “Why do you always treat her like that?”

You controlled the urge to roll your eyes, though you knew Satoru expected you to. You wanted to scream, but you held it back, just barely. “Oh, you mean the girl who’s been constantly hovering around you? The one who acts like she owns you?” You crossed your arms defensively. “Sorry, I didn’t realize I was supposed to cheer her on and clap for every little thing she does.”

Satoru scoffed, taking his face in his hands before looking up again. “You don’t have to be so cold all the time! Can’t you just try to get along with her? She’s changed. Why can’t you just see that?”

“Changed?” You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing at his innocence. “She’s the same girl who insulted your family. She insulted everything you stand for, everything you care about, and you think she’s changed? Are you seriously that blind?”

His eyes darkened, and he gritted his teeth. “You’re always so hung up on the past! Why can’t you just move on?”

You shot him a look, disbelief swirling in your chest. “Move on?” Your voice was shaking with the effort of holding back everything you wanted to say. “Why is it that you’re the only person who sees that she has changed? Why is it that everyone else around you swears she hasn’t?”

Satoru didn’t respond right away. Then, he took a deep breath in, as if it was taking every bone in his body to control his emotions to hit you at that very moment. “Why do you care so much? Why can’t you just give her a chance?” he asked, almost pleading with you.

You stared at him for a moment too long. “Because,” you bit back, “She’s using you. And you’re too caught up in your own world to even see it.”

He took a step toward you, voice rising now. “That’s not true! She’s not using me! She—”

You threw your hands up in frustration. “You don’t get it, do you?” You were shouting now. “She is using you, Satoru! And I’m the one who’s supposed to stand here and watch while you defend her? While you act like she’s some saint who’s done nothing wrong?”

Satoru’s patience snapped, and his expression hardened. He couldn’t stand anymore of you making assumptions about her anymore. “You don’t even belong in this house! Why do you think you have a say in anything I’m doing? You’re not even part of this!” He took a step toward you, his eyes dark with anger, a final insult.

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, you couldn’t breathe. The blood drained from your face as everything came crashing down around you.

“Oh,” was all you managed to say, your voice barely a whisper as your eyes filled with tears. You couldn’t speak. You couldn’t even look at him. You felt your heart shatter into a thousand pieces in your chest.

Satoru’s expression faltered, but it was too late now.

“Leave,” you whispered through gritted teeth.

He hesitated for a second, looking like he wanted to say something more. But he didn’t. With a sharp breath, he turned and walked toward the door.

The second the door slammed shut behind him, you collapsed onto your bed, your hands clutching at the sheets as sobs wracked your body. You cried harder than you ever had before — louder, deeper, until you felt like you couldn’t breathe. Your chest ached with every gasp, every sob, the pain of his words echoing in your mind.

You don’t even belong in this house!

He was right.

You don’t even have their surname? Were you picked up from some ditch?

She was right.

It is the spawn of Satan himself!

They were all right, all absolutely right, weren’t they?

Come with me, daughter.

It was a lie.

You know I won’t leave you.

Lie.

She doesn’t need some random guy when she’s got me.

Lie, lie, lie!

You know lying is a sin, right?

You clutched your chest hard. You didn’t know how long you cried, but when the tears finally stopped, all that remained was emptiness. A hollow space where something you had always held onto seemed to disappear.

──── ୨ৎ ────

“What are you doing here?” you asked coldly.

He shrugged, his usual smirk flickering to life. “Just passing by.”

“Passing by my room?” you shot back, though your voice was devoid of any emotion.

He rubbed the back of his neck, looking almost sheepish. “Maybe… I wanted to talk.”

“What do you want?”

He hesitated, just for a moment, before forcing a laugh. “I don’t know. How are the studies? Still out to prove you’re the best in the room?”

Your expression didn’t change, and the awkwardness between you grew even more.

“Also,” he chuckled nervously, “what did you say to Utahime? I was almost killed thrice in the last two days.”

“If you don’t have anything important to say, Gojo, move.” You stepped past him, unlocking your door. You had begun locking it since the incident that night, to avoid him sneaking in when you were away and to avoid anyone walking in on you bawling your eyes out, trying to drown the repetitive voices in your head with theories about spells and charms.

“Why are you being like this?” His voice stopped you. He paused, watching you fiddle with the lock, clearly taking the hesitating actions as a cue to continue. “Like… like you don’t care.” His eyes finally met yours, and for a moment, they weren’t the Satoru you knew. There was no smugness, no teasing — just guilt.

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep your voice steady. “You’re imagining things,” you said, pushing the door open.

“Am I?” His tone sharpened, and he took a step closer. “You’ve been avoiding me for weeks. You won’t even look at me.”

“Maybe I have nothing to say to you,” you replied, turning to him to see his expression one last time before sorrow overtook your senses again.

His shoulders were stiffened, and for the first time this night, he couldn’t meet your gaze.

“That’s what I thought,” you said, your voice quieter now. “You know exactly why, Satoru. You just don’t want to admit it.”

He ran a hand through his hair, his frustration evident. “I didn’t mean it,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Goodnight, Satoru,” you said, slamming the door in his face before he could say anything else.

The silence that followed was deafening, and on the other side of the door, he lingered. You waited, holding your breath as you leaned against the wood, but no sound came.

And just like that, the distance between you grew wider.

──── ୨ৎ ────

Your school year was nearing the end, and summer was around the corner. The days before that had been a blur. You had avoided Satoru like the plague, throwing yourself deeper into your books and classes. Even your classmates had noticed the change, though none dared to bring it up to your face.

Except for Shoko.

“Are you okay?” she asked one afternoon, cornering you in the library.

“I’m fine,” you lied, not looking up from your Curses: A Guide to Identify the Weakness book.

“No, you’re not.” She pulled up a chair, crossing her arms as she stared at you. “You’re avoiding him, he’s avoiding everyone, and the rest of us are stuck in the middle of whatever this is.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said flatly.

She groaned, leaning back in her chair. “You’re lucky this is me and not Utahime. Just so you know, he sent a message.”

That caught your attention. Slowly, you closed your book and looked at her. “What message?”

“He said he’s done with Alina,” Shoko said softly. “Said he wouldn’t talk to her anymore.”

“Why are you telling me this?” you asked quietly.

“Because,” Shoko said, standing up, “you’re both being stupid. And I’m sick of watching my friends tear themselves apart over something that could be fixed with one honest conversation.”

“Honest conversation?” you repeated bitterly. “What’s there to say? He made his priorities clear, Shoko.”

“Did he?” She raised an eyebrow, leaning closer. “Or did you just decide that for him because you’re too scared to hear what he actually thinks?”

Your jaw tightened. “You weren’t there, Shoko. You didn’t hear the things he said.”

“You’re right, I wasn’t. But I’ve seen how miserable he’s been these past few weeks,” she countered. “He won’t say it, but he’s been beating himself up about it. He knows he messed up.”

“And what about me?!” you snapped, your voice harsher than you intended. “I’m supposed to just forget everything? Pretend like I wasn’t the one he hurt?”

Shoko sighed, her expression softening. “No. But you’re not giving him a chance to make it right. He’s been trying to talk to you — hell, he even took all the hits heroically when Utahime nearly ripped him apart.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Utahime — what?”

“Oh, yeah,” Shoko said. “She had a few choice words for him. Might’ve included running him over by her carriage horses. Not my place to repeat them, but let’s just say she wasn’t thrilled with how he handled things.”

Despite yourself, a small, bitter smile tugged at your lips. “Good for her.”

“Look,” Shoko said, softening her tone again, “you don’t have to forgive him right away. But at least talk to him. He’s done with Alina, and it’s obvious you’re not over him. Don’t let this thing between you two fester any longer.”

You stared at her for a long moment, her words sinking in despite the stubborn walls you’d built around yourself. “I’ll think about it,” you said finally.

“Good,” Shoko said with a satisfied nod. “Just… don’t take too long. We’re not kids forever, you know.”

──── ୨ৎ ────

The knock on Satoru’s bedroom door felt louder than you intended. You had rehearsed this moment in your mind a dozen times already. What were you supposed to say again?

Hey. It’s me. Haha.

No no no. Hey, how have you been?

No, ugh. Hey, nice weather?

Still, when the door opened and his bright blue eyes met yours, every word you had prepared seemed to vanish. The two of you only stared at each other, he in surprise and you in embarrassment.

“Hey,” he said, trying to break the silence.

“Hey,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

The silence stretched between you for a moment before he stepped aside, gesturing for you to come in. You did, though your fingers fidgeted nervously at your sides.

The room looked messy. The bedsheets were sprawled around as if he had been tossing and turning all night earlier. The curtains were closed so the room was in utter darkness. Yet, you needed no amount of light to see the look of sleep-deprivation he carried on his face.

Was it because of you? Because you had acted this way? Was it because he was regretting what he said to you earlier (he should, a voice in your head said, but you pushed it away)? Or was he failing his classes again? His stream was different from yours so you couldn’t meet him in school either. Or was it perhaps because of—

“I was—” you both started at the same time, cutting each other off awkwardly.

You let out a breathy laugh, and for the first time in weeks, his lips pulled upward, a glimmer of the boy you knew. “You first,” he offered, stepping closer.

“I was going to say that I…” Your words faltered as he reached for your hand. His fingers, warm and tentative, brushed yours before interlocking gently. “Oh. Wow.” He smiled at you, pulling you closer to kiss the top of your head. “I missed this,” you admitted finally, your voice breaking slightly.

“I’m sorry,” he said immediately, softer than you had expected him to be. “For everything. For being such a—”

A sudden knock interrupted him, and a servant’s voice called from the hall. “Young Master, Miss — Madam requests your presence in the meeting room immediately.”

Satoru groaned under his breath, but you let go of his hand, smiling as well now. “We’ll talk later,” you murmured, turning to leave.

The Gojo clan’s meeting room was one thing, but the Gojo family’s meeting room felt even more imposing. High ceilings, ornate woodwork, and an air of superiority — that was the only way anyone could describe it. Mother and Father sat at the head of the low table, their expressions unreadable.

“You’re here,” his father said. He gestured for you and Satoru to sit, and you did, sitting in a formal position with your hands on your knees, feet touching the soft pillow under you. His mother only nodded at both of you. “We’ve received an invitation from the Kamo Clan.”

Kamo Clan? You had read about a legend of theirs in your history class. A man who had dropped himself to the bottom of the hells indulging with curses to create powerful heirs. The Kamo Clan had an awful reputation — ancient, powerful, and, if rumours were to be believed, sinister.

Beside you, you felt Satoru stiffen, and whisper only one word.

“Alina?”

Of course! How could you have forgotten that? The girl who had been plaguing your school ever since she set foot in it was Kamo Alina. Suddenly, what his father said didn’t matter anymore. The way his mother was staring between you and him didn’t matter anymore. What was about to happen in his room that time didn’t matter.

“The banquet,” Satoru’s father continued, and it took a lot of effort from you to keep listening, “is an exclusive gathering of noble families from across the globe. It will take place in the south, and attendance is mandatory for representatives of our house.”

You gathered the courage to steal a glance at Satoru’s expression. The look on his face was enough to tell you he wasn’t surprised by the connection. He knew. He had known it all this time. Your hands curled into fists under the table, your nails biting into your palms, probably leaving marks too.

His mother’s voice said coolly. “Prepare yourselves. You’ll leave at the end of the week. Dismissed.”

You didn’t wait for Satoru as you stood abruptly, your pillow gliding across the floor. You made your way back to your room, trying not to look back at his face, but you didn’t make it far before he caught up with you.

“Wait!” He grabbed your arm, spinning you around to face him. “It’s not what you think.”

You yanked your arm free, glaring at him. “It’s not what I think? Really, Gojo? Because I think you lied to me.”

“I didn’t—”

“You said you weren’t in contact with her!” you snapped.

“I’m not! This isn’t me — it’s her family. They’re the ones—”

“Oh, so her family conveniently sends in an invitation to us to attend their stupid gathering at somehow the right time?”

“I don’t know? Look,” He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, not at you, no, but at that darn family. “I told you, I’m not in contact with her. That is the truth. I haven’t spoken to her since—”

“Since when?” you interrupted, stepping closer. “Since you told Shoko you were done? Or since you got caught? Because it feels like right now, I’m finding out the actual truth.”

“That is not the truth, please just list—”

“Stop,” you cut him off. You had had enough. “It’s okay. I don’t know why you think I even care. I ‘don’t belong here’, remember?”

“That’s not what I meant!” he shouted, his voice echoing in the empty hallway.

You stepped back, shaking your head with a sigh. “Don’t follow me.”

“Please,” he pleaded, his voice softer now, desperate. But you didn’t look back as you turned and headed for the courtyard, away from him and his stupid, stupid noble traditions.

──── ୨ৎ ────

The journey to the Southern estate was agonisingly long, but then again, you were from the East, and crossing entire landmarks took more than weeks by unruly waters. After the travel on the Gojo estate’s huge ship, your family was met with a stout, snotty man representing the Kamo clan, in charge of dropping you to their estate by comfortable carriages. The carriage rocked back and forth, and the countryside unfolded before you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to appreciate any of it. Your focus remained on the window, your reflection glaring back at you. Anything to avoid looking at him.

Satoru sat beside you, arms crossed and foot tapping impatiently against the carriage floor. The silence was so oppressive it practically screamed at both of you to make up already. His mother sat across from you, but her usual composed expression faltered slightly as she glanced between you and her son.

After what felt like an eternity, Satoru let out an exaggerated sigh, his head lolling back against the seat. "Are you seriously going to do this the whole trip?"

You didn’t move. “Do what?”

“This,” he said, waving a hand vaguely in your direction. “Acting like I don’t exist.”

“I’m not acting,” you replied coldly. “You’re still breathing, aren’t you?”

He bristled at your tone, his foot tapping faster. “Wow. Real mature.”

You didn’t dignify that with a response, instead shifting slightly in your seat to angle yourself even farther away from him. The silence returned, heavier now, and his mother finally cleared her throat, breaking it.

“Is everything all right?” she asked delicately, her eyes lingering on you longer.

“Yes,” you answered quickly, too quickly. “Everything’s fine.”

Her brow lifted slightly, but she said nothing, her gaze darting to her son. He sat rigid, his jaw clenched as he poked his head out of his own window, refusing to meet her eyes.

“Fine,” Satoru muttered after a beat, as if to echo you. His tone was harsh, though he didn’t look at either of you.

His mother’s lips pressed into a thin line, but she didn’t press further. The realisation seemed to dawn on her that her carefully curated plans for her son’s life — whatever they might be — were starting to crack at the seams.

Satoru’s foot finally stilled, but his irritation hadn’t seemed to disappear yet. After another stretch of unbearable silence, he tried again, his voice softer this time. "Look, I’m not going to apologize for something I didn’t do.”

“Good thing I’m not expecting one, then.”

He groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Can you at least try to meet me halfway here? This is ridiculous.”

You finally turned to look at him. “What’s ridiculous is pretending any of this matters. I shouldn’t even be here, right? So why don’t you just—”

“That’s enough,” his mother cut in, her tone sharper than you had ever heard it. Her gaze pinned you both in place. “We’re almost there. I suggest you both compose yourselves before we arrive.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, retreating back into silence, but not before catching the slight smirk on Satoru’s face. It wasn’t amusement, though — it was frustration barely held in check. He didn’t say another word, leaning back against the seat and staring resolutely at the ceiling as the carriage rocked along. You pressed your lips together and turned back to the window.

That was when you saw it.

The estate loomed in the distance, its dark silhouette framed against the dusky sky. It wasn’t grand in the way the Gojo mansion was. No, this place had an oddly familiar air of foreboding. Its high walls and shadowed towers looked like they were whispering secrets and things long forgotten in history. The closer you got, the more a strange chill settled over you, prickling the back of your neck.

Goosebumps ran down your arms as the carriage rolled closer. The gates opened with an almost eerie slowness. There was billowing mist surrounding the entire area, and it made the scene even more creepy. You couldn’t explain it, but something about this place just felt… wrong. It wasn’t just the estate’s imposing presence or the way the evening light seemed to bend around it — it was something you couldn’t place at all.

You felt like something bad, really bad was going to happen here, or perhaps had already happened. A chill ran down your spine when you recalled the pages of absolute horror you had seen attached to the restricted books in your library, and their vibes seemed to match that of this place.

Beside you, Satoru shifted uncomfortably. You glanced at him for a moment and saw that his confident facade had slipped. His eyes lingered on the estate, as if trying to figure out just what it was that made the place seem so uncanny and unreal, like it was something straight out of a horror novel.

As the carriage came to a stop, his mother stepped out first, poised as ever. She didn’t seem fazed by the oppressive air of the place, but then again, she rarely showed any cracks in her demeanour.

You followed, your legs unsteady as they hit the gravel path. The chill hadn’t left you, clung to your skin. Satoru came last, his usual swagger dimmed.

“Remember,” his mother murmured as the servants approached, her voice low and pointed, “appearances are everything. Do try not to embarrass the family.”

You nodded stiffly, but deep down, all you could think about was how much you wanted to leave this place. Sighing and ignoring the tremble of your gut, you held your own hands and entered the estate.

The estate’s grand entrance hall was vast, its high ceilings decorated with intricate wooden carvings that spiralled into ominous shapes. A line of servants stood on either side, their heads bowed low in synchronised precision. “Welcome to the Kamo estate,” they chanted together, their voices echoing.

A servant stepped forward, addressing Satoru’s father (and not batting an eye to his mother) with an apologetic tone. “We regret to inform you that our — that is, the Kamo clan’s — leaders could not greet you in person. Urgent matters required their immediate attention, but they send their sincerest apologies and look forward to meeting you tomorrow.”

Satoru’s father met his wife’s eyes, and she nodded curtly, and the servant's eyes widened as if he realised the error he made by ignoring her and addressing only the male leader in your group. “It is of no consequence,” she replied coolly.

As the servants moved to escort you all further inside, you couldn’t help but glance around. The estate was undeniably grand, but there was something cold and uninviting about it. The polished marble floors gleamed under flickering chandeliers, and the thick, musty air clung to your skin. It felt more like a mausoleum than a home.

The servants led you through endless corridors, the silence broken only by the sound of footsteps on stone. Every now and then, you passed ornate doors or shadowy alcoves, each one looking more foreboding than the last. You tried to shake the feeling of being watched, but the creeping sensation never left.

Eventually, they stopped in front of a door, and the servant gestured to it with a bow. “This will be your room,” he said before retreating with the others.

You stepped inside hesitantly. The room was smaller, far removed from where they were escorting Satoru now, and you had a feeling his would be uncomfortably close to Alina’s. The room was smaller, colder, and had an air of neglect, as if it hadn’t been opened in years. Dust coated the surfaces, and the faint scent of damp wood lingered in the air. There were faint scratches on the walls as if someone had clawed at them long ago. The wallpaper had started peeling in places, and the furniture looked untouched, as though someone had decided only yesterday to disturb the fifteen year old cobwebs. The architecture, the layout, even the faint smell of mildew — it was unsettlingly familiar, though you couldn’t quite place why.

Satoru’s mother appeared behind you. She took one look around the room, and her eyebrows twitched into a carefully concealed scowl. “Well,” she said. “This is... quaint, to say the least.”

You turned to face her, unsure of how to respond. She gestured vaguely at the room, the bare walls, the dull, muted colours. “If you find this unsuitable, arrangements can be made. I’m sure a clan as proud as Kamo wouldn’t want their guests to feel...” She paused, her lips curling in distaste, “uncomfortable.”

You swallowed hard, shaking your head. “No, mother,” you said, forcing a polite smile. “This is fine.”

Her brow arched, as though she didn’t quite believe you, but she didn’t press. “As you wish,” she said softly, turning on her heel and leaving without another word.

The door closed behind her with a heavy thud, and the silence of the room enveloped you. You exhaled slowly, taking in the sparse furnishings, the musty air. You hated the idea of being a burden, but now, as you sat on the bed, watching it creak loudly, you wondered if you had made a mistake.

Late that night, you lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to get yourself to sleep.

“One sheep, two sheep, three sheep—”

What would he be doing right now? Was he still upset?

“Fuck, lost count again.” You sighed loudly. This was probably the sixth time you had tried but failed to sleep. All because of him. You closed your eyes tightly to try again.

“One sheep, two sh—”

Shit. Nature’s call.

You widened your eyes and glanced at the door, dreading the thought of stepping out into the pitch-black halls of the manor. Your room didn’t even have a washroom, which seemed absurd for a house of this size and considering who it belonged to. Clenching your jaw, you tried to distract yourself from the pressure in your bladder by examining the room, but there was nothing to look at. No paintings, no books, no trinkets — just plain walls and dull furniture.

With a sigh, you finally pushed yourself up, deciding to find a maid to help you find the washroom. You lit a candelabrum sitting next to your bed to help you navigate the area. The hallway was dimly lit, the flickering lights casting eerie shadows across the walls. You tried to stay calm, but every creak of the floorboards beneath your feet made you jump.

You walked, and walked, and walked. The layout of the house was like a maze in itself, and every turn seemed to lead to another identical hallway. Within the span of minutes, you found yourself descending a set of stairs you didn’t remember seeing before.

The air grew colder. The scent of damp stone and decay was thick in your nostrils. You paused at the bottom of the staircase, realizing with a jolt of horror that you were in what looked like the basement of the manor. The little light coming from your candles barely illuminated the space.

A wave of nausea hit you. The place smelled like dead rats, but somehow, despite your lack of sight in the room, a lot of scenes seemed to cross your mind. Shadows in the halls. Muffled screams. The overwhelming fear of being dragged into this very basement to be punished for something you couldn’t understand. Your eyes caught on the walls, and you lifted your candelabrum up and stepped closer. There were faint marks carved into the stone. Tally marks. Dozens of them. Maybe hundreds.

Your hand reached out, trembling, brushing against the ridges. A flash of a memory hit you — your hand gripping a piece of stone fully covered in blood, dragging it across a surface, one line after another. But where had it been? In a classroom, on the board? No — this was something else, something darker. Your stomach twisted, and you stumbled back, the nausea overwhelming.

“Miss?” A voice shattered the silence, and you whipped around to see a maid standing at the top of the staircase. Her face was pale, her brows furrowed, as if you had offended every fibre of her body by stepping down into this basement. “What are you doing down here?”

You opened your mouth to answer, but no words came out. The smell of the basement, the tally marks, the scenes — they clung to you, and you could only shake your head.

“Let me escort you back to your room. You shouldn’t ever be here”

You nodded mutely, following her up the stairs. She led you back through the winding halls. By the time you reached your room, the trembling in your legs had mostly subsided, though the chill of the basement still remained. She opened the door for you, offering a rigid nod before disappearing back into the dark hallways. You stepped inside, closing the door behind you, and exhaled shakily.

Your hands were still trembling slightly as you sat on the edge of the bed, trying to steady your breathing. The scenes — fragmented, disjointed — played on a loop in your mind. What were they? Forgotten memories? Flashbacks? The tally marks, the muffled screams. They were just like something out of your worst nightmares. You buried your face in your hands, feeling the sting of tears prickling at your eyes.

A soft knock at the door startled you. You hastily wiped your eyes, rising to your feet. When you opened it, Satoru’s mother stood there. Her expression softened slightly when she saw you.

“You’ve been crying,” she said matter-of-factly.

“I’m fine,” you said quickly, stepping aside to let her in.

She swept into the room, her gaze flickering briefly to the empty, barren space. “This room is unacceptable,” she said bluntly. But then, as she turned to face you, something in her eyes looked gentler, almost human — something she had always carried around you. “You should have asked for it to be changed, darling.”

You shook your head. “I didn’t want to be a bother. It’s fine, really.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line, and for a moment, she studied you. Then, to your surprise, she stepped closer, her hands resting lightly on your shoulders. “You’re far too used to accepting the minimal,” she said quietly. “That’s not what you deserve.”

You blinked, startled by the tenderness in her tone. Before you could respond, she leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, her cool hand lingering briefly against your cheek. The gesture was so unexpected, so maternal, that your throat tightened with emotion.

“I will speak to the servants in the morning,” she said, straightening but not pulling away. “And if you ever feel uncomfortable — ever — you will tell me. Do you understand?”

You nodded wordlessly, unable to trust your voice.

“Good.” She adjusted the edge of your sleeve with a small, practised motion, as if tidying you was a second nature for her. “Get some rest. You look exhausted.”

She turned to leave but paused at the door, glancing back over her shoulder. “And whatever it is that has you so unsettled tonight... I will see to it. Do not let it weigh on your mind. The past has a way of creeping into the present, but you are stronger than it.”

The door closed softly behind her, leaving you standing in the middle of the room.

For the first time since you had arrived at the estate, you felt a sliver of comfort.

──── ୨ৎ ────

Over the next week, your efforts to blend in with the household paid off in more ways than one. Most of the maids, initially wary of you as a noble guest, had warmed up to your presence. They appreciated your willingness to help with menial tasks and often joked that you were more reliable than some of their own peers. Soon enough, their dislike for the Kamo family began to slip into their conversations.

It started one evening when you were helping two maids, Haru and Tomoko, carry water from the wells. They spoke in hushed voices, glancing around nervously as though the courtyard’s walls themselves might eavesdrop.

“I’ve always said the Kamo family has skeletons in their closet,” Haru muttered. “Well, in this case, they’re probably in the basement. You’ve seen it, haven’t you?”

You nodded. “I have. It’s disturbing. What were those tally marks on the walls?”

Tomoko sighed, setting her bucket down with a huff. “No one really knows for sure. Some say it’s the number of people tortured down there. Others think it’s the number of people who died. Either way, nothing good ever happened in that place.”

Before you could press further, another maid, Aoi, cut in sharply. She was older, sharper, and rigid. Yet you had watched her pull the buckets back up from the walls with such brute force that it was no wonder she was still working for the clan despite her age. “Enough! You shouldn’t fill her head with stories. She’s a noblewoman; this isn’t her concern.” Her eyes avoided yours, fixed firmly on the stone path.

Haru rolled her eyes dramatically. “Oh, relax, Ms Aoi. She’s not like the rest of them. She’s helped us more than half the family ever has. Why shouldn’t she know what’s really going on?”

Tomoko nodded enthusiastically. “Exactly! And she’s already seen the basement. It’s not like we’re revealing some great hidden treasure. Besides, it’s about time someone outside this house knew what the Kamo family is really like.”

Aoi crossed her arms, her frown deepening. “And what good will it do her to know? The Kamo family isn’t to be trifled with. You’re putting her in danger — and yourselves, too, for that matter.”

You cut in gently, trying to defuse the tension. “I appreciate the concern, Ms Aoi, truly. But if the Kamo family has nothing to hide, then why should talking about it be dangerous?”

Haru smirked. “See? She gets it.”

Tomoko leaned closer, her voice dropping to a near whisper. “Do you want to know what I heard? Years ago, when the punishments in the basement were still happening, the head of the house would personally oversee them. And sometimes…” she trembled visibly. “Sometimes, they weren’t even punishing people who broke the law. Just anyone they didn’t like. Servants who fell out of favour. Merchants who got on their bad side.”

Haru shuddered. “They say the screams would echo up through the floorboards. That’s why most of the older staff refuse to even talk about it. Too many bad memories. There is also the ghost of that little girl—”

“That’s enough!” Aoi snapped. “The girl doesn’t need every grisly detail.”

“Oh, come on, Aoi. You hate them as much as we do. Don’t act like you’re above this.”

“Whether I hate them or not is irrelevant,” Aoi huffed. “You’re still being reckless. If anyone hears about this...”

Tomoko grinned mischievously. “And who’s going to tell them? You?”

Aoi gave an exasperated sigh but said nothing.

That night, you wrote letters to Shoko and Utahime, recounting the strange conversation and the haunting basement. You might have mentioned a glimpse of Satoru, too, though your thoughts on him were far more conflicted.

Shoko’s reply was predictably blunt.

Sounds grim. Torture rooms, tally marks, mysterious deaths — real classic Kamo vibes. Maybe they’re compensating for their family’s lack of charm. But, you know, not my circus, not my corpses. Still, were they tortured with surgical precision? If so, let me know which tools were involved. I’ve got a scalpel set if you want to reenact it. Besides, I’ve always wanted to see how far someone could go with a bone saw and no anaesthetic. For science, of course. Stay alive. Bye.

PS: If you find any good booze down there, bring some back for me.

Utahime’s letter was far less chill.

That two-timing bastard is probably off doing handstands to impress some girl who can't tell her right from left. Honestly, I’m waiting for your mother to tell him the truth already. If he doesn’t start acting like your fiance, I’m going to come over there and bury him in that damn basement myself. If I had to spend more than two breaths in his company, I’d kill him. Actually, I’d kill him for free. Just say the word.

PS: If I didn’t love you, I would’ve told you to go into that basement again just for fun. But I do love you, so stay safe.

The Kamo clan leaders remained an enigma. Somehow, their presence was so secretive that their portraits were absent from every book and document in the library. You wondered if even the servants themselves had seen these people. “Maybe they’re so ugly they’re too ashamed to show their faces?” Shoko had suggested in one letter, and you still snorted remembering that.

From all your time in the estate’s library, you could only find their names — Kamo Daijiro and Kamo Akane. Creepy. You also learned they had two daughters: Alina, the eldest, and her twin who had married into another prestigious family and no longer lived at the estate.

You still hadn’t caught so much as a glimpse of Daijiro or Akane, but that would change soon. A grand gathering was scheduled for the following night, and the maids were already preparing for their arrival in the estate.

──── ୨ৎ ────

The Kamo maids worked on you, dabbing floral scents to your neck and pulling a corsage on your hands. Behind you, Aoi’s hands deftly pulled at the laces of the corset you were reluctantly being tied into. Earlier, an unexpected scuffle had broken out between the Gojo clan maids and the Kamo maids when the latter had shown up, intending to tend to you.

“She’s our priority,” one of the Gojo maids had sniffed, her arms crossed.

“Not anymore,” retorted Tomoko. “She is living in the Kamo residence right now. Your loyalty isn’t required here.”

“Well, she’s from the Gojo clan!” snapped another maid, her tone haughty.

“Yes, and?” Haru shot back. The Gojo maids had given up after a reassuring smile from you, muttering about how they are only leaving because “the Lady asked so”.

Now, Aoi was tugging the corset strings tighter. The conversation had shifted from the petty bickering of maids to something far darker.

“You wouldn’t believe the stories this house holds,” one of the younger maids murmured, a shiver in her voice. “Do you know about the little girl?”

“What girl?” you asked. You hadn’t seen the story of any little girl mentioned in the books you had read, but you had distinctly remember a mention of her story in an earlier conversation with these maids.

“Ms Aoi knows about it best!” Haru exclaimed.

Aoi’s face darkened as she let out a long sigh. “It happened about a decade ago,” she began. “A child had appeared on the doorstep, barely an year old, mind you. The family had taken her in, but of course, they did not treat her like a daughter. They had left her in the care of us servants. I was like her mother,” she said proudly. “She had turned three, I still remember, it was her birthday that night. She spilled a glass of expensive red wine on Lady Akane’s dress. It wasn’t even the girl’s fault. She was just a baby, carrying a tray too big for her tiny hands. But Sir Daijiro… he doesn’t forgive mistakes.”

The other maids exchanged uneasy glances as Aoi huffed loudly, pausing her hands on your laces to wipe stray tears. “The girl was dragged to the basement, where they lock away the disobedient. She… she never came out.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “She was… killed?”

“Yes,” whispered one of the younger maids, her voice trembling. “It’s said her ghost still lingers. Sometimes we hear her cries late at night. And the mist that hangs over the estate? They say it’s her curse — her anger at the clan.”

Aoi nodded grimly. “I was here. I wasn’t much younger than I am now, but I couldn’t do anything to save her. All I could do was sneak her scraps of food and try to mend her torn dresses after… after the punishments.”

You were horrified. “Punishments? For a child?”

Aoi’s tears couldn’t be held back anymore. “She was just a baby,” she croaked thickly. “I’d hear her cry at night, calling for her mother. And when… when…” Haru handed Aoi a cloth to wipe her face. “When she died… it was the moment I stopped believing the Kamo family had any humanity left.”

The room fell silent for a moment, save for the sound of Aoi’s sniffling and your shallow breathing. “How can someone be so cruel?” you murmured.

“That’s why we’re all so terrified,” Tomoko confessed. “If they could do that to a child, what chance do we have? Everyone here walks on eggshells, afraid to make even the smallest mistake. The leaders haven’t changed. They’re still the same people who let that little girl die.”

Aoi’s hands resumed their work, tying the last knot on the corset. The maids stepped back. You glanced at the mirror, seeing not just your reflection but the haunted expressions of the women around you.

The little girl’s story stuck with you, her cries echoing in your mind. If the Kamo clan could be so ruthless to a defenceless child, what horrors could they unleash on those who dared to cross them?

──── ୨ৎ ────

The grand gathering was suffocating. The air was thick with the scent of incense and expensive perfumes, the soft hum of conversation occasionally punctuated by bursts of laughter. You had probably sent about fifty letters in all to Shoko, Utahime and even Geto asking them if they would come to the South, and they all had replied with repetitive no’s. You had tried to keep your head down, avoiding the heavy gazes of the Kamo guests. But you were glad to see that Satoru, for once, was sticking close to you, uncharacteristically quiet. He hadn’t so much as glanced at Alina all evening, and perhaps even all this time during the visit if you were lucky. Not that you cared, of course.

Earlier, when you had overheard his mother asking him to keep his distance from “that Kamo girl”, and you remembered how he had rolled his eyes so hard you thought they would have gotten stuck.

“Fine,” he had said with mock drama. “But only because I’m such an understanding guy. And because I want you to stop looking like you’re ready to shank me with a chopstick.”

Now, true to his word, his focus was entirely on you. Every time you caught him looking elsewhere, it was never in her direction. He had even waved off her attempts to engage him, subtly turning his back to her as though she didn’t exist.

“See?” he murmured, leaning down to your ear. “Haven’t even looked her way. You believe me now, right?”

You arched a brow, unimpressed. “You don’t get points for doing the bare minimum, Gojo.”

“Bare minimum?” he gasped, and you smiled a little. His response reminded you of the ‘old times’, as they were now. “This is maximum effort for me! Have you met me?”

“Hush now, both of you,” his father interrupted. “They’re here.”

The Kamo clan heads arrived, and the air shifted. The room quieted, all eyes turning to the doors as Daijiro and Akane Kamo entered. Their presence was magnetic, commanding. As they moved through the crowd, the guests bowed slightly, parting to make way. You moved your eyes to the carpeted floor. You didn’t want to introduce yourself to someone who would torture a little girl to death, for God’s sake.

But then curiosity overtook your senses. You had been thinking of what they would look like for ages. They were like a mystery you had been picking apart ever since you stepped foot into that basement. Now was finally the moment you would get to see the leaders who hid from newspapers, books and even their own servants. You finally looked up. And the moment you saw their faces, the world seemed to tilt.

Sharp cheekbones. Piercing eyes. Their very presence struck a chord you hadn’t felt in years. Distantly, hauntingly familiar…

Your parents.

“Hush, little baby, everything you need is right here,” your mother cooed, and you walked to where he was leading you. “Yes, that’s it. There are your favourite snacks here, and all your favourite toys. Come on. Go there.”

But you found something else to interest you. Aoi, the maid, was standing right there, watching everything, and you wanted to walk to where she was instead of your bad mother.

“Stupid girl, where are you going?” your father pushed you from behind into the basement, and you fell over its many steps. Falling, falling, falling. By the time you reached the bottom, your face felt hot with some weird liquid.

“This is your new house — for now,” your mother said finally, walking down the steps. “You have given me enough trouble. From the moment I was cornered in that dark alley, alone and frightened, till now — you have been nothing but trouble. You are a constant reminder of what happened to me that night. You shall die, die!”

“There, there, now, Akie,” you watched your father cradle your mother’s head in his chest. You tilted your head, and the force almost made you fall back to the ground. “The child will no longer remain here. I have the most secretive merchants arriving from the North to here. They will be taking this… thing away from us, away from you. And then you shall finally be free.”

The realisation hit like a crashing wave, pulling the air from your lungs. Your vision blurred, and your chest tightened. It was too much. Too much. It was unbearable.

Without thinking, you reached out, your trembling hand finding Satoru’s mother instead of him. Her warm, steady grasp grounded you back to reality, and she turned to you immediately in concern. She studied you for just half a second before realising something was wrong, horribly wrong.

“Come,” she said softly, guiding you out of the hall without a moment’s hesitation.

Satoru’s voice trailed behind you, confused. “Where are you—”

“Stay with your father,” his mother ordered firmly over her shoulder.

Once outside, the cool night air hit your face, and it made you realise the warm wetness flooding your cheeks and stinging at your eyes. She led you to a quiet corner of the garden, still holding you as tightly as possible.

“What’s wrong?” she asked gently, her eyes scanning your face. “Are you unwell?”

The words tumbled out before you could stop them. “They’re my parents.”

Her brow furrowed. “Who are?”

“Them.” You swallowed hard, finally breaking down. “They! They left me. They sold me. I didn’t know their names but… I’ve seen them. They’re…”

Her expression shifted from confusion to horror. You looked at her face. You had never seen a look like that on her ever before. She released your hand only to pull you into a tight embrace.

“You poor thing,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I had no idea. But I swear to you, they’ll never hurt you again. Not while I’m here.”

You cried on her shoulder loudly, and you could feel she was crying softly too. “Why? Am I not worth raising… Mom?” She pulled back slightly, cupping your face in her hands. “Why didn’t they come back for me?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t care what their reasons were. You will be a Gojo soon. It is only a matter of time now. And you will forever, forever, be a part of our family. I will not let the Kamos stain your history, ever.”

You sniffled. From somewhere in the hall, you could hear Satoru’s loud voice, probably causing some kind of scene.

“See?” his mother said softly, trying to distract you. “He hasn’t looked at their girl once, just like he promised. That boy might be infuriating, but when it comes to you, he’s surprisingly reliable.”

A faint smile tugged at your lips.

Satoru’s mother stood behind you. Her fingers were combing through your hair softly, as if to sooth your emotions with her caring rhythm. She adjusted your corset strings next, pulling them tighter, not harshly, but enough to make you focus on the present instead of the roaring panic threatening to take over.

Beyond the ornate doors of the gathering, voices rose and fell. You strained your ears to pick out the words, leaning slightly toward the source. And then you heard it.

A deep, booming voice. The same voice from your nightmares. The one that haunted your memories. Your breath hitched. It felt as though the walls were closing in to suffocate you.

Satoru’s mother’s hands immediately moved to your shoulders to steady you. “Breathe, darling,” she said firmly. “I’m here, am I not? You are safe.”

You nodded, though tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. “I’m trying,” you whisper, clutching the fabric of her dress tightly.

And then, the voice spoke words that made your blood run cold.

“…a marriage between Kamo Alina and Gojo Satoru.”

You froze. Your heart seemed to have stopped. The room seemed to have crashed down onto you. You tried to process what you had just heard. Satoru’s mother stiffened behind you, her hands pausing mid-movement.

“What did they just say?” you whispered.

She didn’t respond, though her head tilted slightly as she listened intently to the conversation happening inside the room. You caught snippets of whispers as noble families exchanged their astonishment at the bold proposal.

Surely, Satoru’s father knows. He knows that Satoru is supposed to be engaged to you.Right?

But then you heard him speak. His voice seemed proud and approving. “An excellent proposal, Daijiro Kamo. This alliance shall strengthen both our families. I accept.”

The words hit you like a slap. Your stomach churned, and for a moment, you thought you might be sick.

“Mom?” you whispered and turned to Satoru’s mother. “Why…?”

Her lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes narrowing dangerously. “That moron,” she hissed under her breath. Her hands fell away from your shoulders furiously. “He didn’t consult me. He didn’t consult anyone except Daijiro. Of course, he didn’t. Men like to think their decisions are final simply because they made them.”

The applause from the other side of the door grew louder. The sound vibrated in your ears as the nobles toasted the ‘union’. Your panic surged again. “What do we do?” you asked desperately.

Satoru’s mother exhaled sharply. “I shall handle it.”

When she threw the doors open roughly, the room fell silent. The silence following her entrance was not mere courtesy; it was submission. Her presence demanded it. Yet Kamo Daijiro, standing near the center with a goblet of red wine in his hand, immediately stepped forward with a smug smile. “Ah, my lady Gojo,” he began, his voice filled with condescension. “I was just about to inform you of the wonderful arrangement your husband and I have come to. My daughter, Alina, will—”

“Will do nothing,” she cut him off coldly.

Daijiro blinked, clearly taken aback by the interruption. “I beg your pardon?” he said with mock-politeness.

“You heard me,” she said, stepping further into the room. Every eye in the room was on her. “You dare discuss an engagement for my son without consulting me?”

Daijiro’s lips curled into a patronizing smile. “With all due respect, Lady Gojo, this is a matter for the men to decide. Your husband and I both agree that this alliance is mutually beneficial. Surely you trust your husband’s judgment.”

She laughed humorlessly. “Trust his judgment? You think I’m going to stand by while you play politics with my son’s life?”

She turned to glare at her husband. Satoru’s father cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable under her piercing gaze, but Daijiro waved him off. “Lady Gojo, your anger is misplaced. This is a matter of strategy. You may oversee the household, but these are decisions of power — something women cannot fully comprehend.”

The room grew deadly quiet now, and Alina seemed to have understood that what her father just said had been a mistake. Satoru’s jaw tightened at the insult at his mother, but he did not say anything yet. You were still frozen in the doorway, but you could feel that he was about to snap at any moment now.

Satoru’s mother’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Women cannot comprehend power?” Every word was pronounced clearly, and she took a single step closer. “You’re standing in my authority. Under my presence. Having begged for my appearance at this folly of an event. And you think I don’t comprehend power?”

“But this is an alliance—” Daijiro started.

“An alliance that disregards my authority,” she interrupted sharply. “An alliance that treats my son like a pawn in your political game of blind chess,” Her eyes flicked briefly to Satoru, who watched the exchange with a furrowed brow.

The room erupted in whispers. The many noble families exchanged shocked glances. Even Satoru’s father looked uncomfortable now, though he didn't dare interrupt.

Daijiro straightened, his tone hardening. “Lady Gojo, I understand you may feel... emotional about this. But this is for the good of both our families. Surely you don’t mean to disrupt an agreement between two patriarchs.”

Her expression darkened further. Without breaking eye contact, she reached for a glass of wine from a nearby tray. In one swift motion, she threw it to the ground, and the crystal shattered into thousands of shards. The sound echoed in the silence.

“The marriage is off,” she declared, her voice unwavering. “Because Satoru already has a fiancee.” She turned and gestured to you, standing awkwardly in the doorway having followed her from outside. “My future daughter-in-law, her.”

The room erupted into chaos. Gasps and furious whispers filled the air. Kamo Daijiro’s face turned a deep shade of red. The Kamo clan, the maids (who were standing outside, peering through the gates you left open, having not been allowed to enter the prestigious ceremony) and leaders alike, looked mortified at her words.

“You cannot be serious,” Akane said through gritted teeth.

“I’ve never been more serious,” she countered.

“You have humiliated my family!” Daijiro growled, stepping closer threateningly.

At this, Satoru stood up, his sword in his hand as he placed himself between his mother and Kamo Daijiro. He tilted the weapon slightly to make sure the threat of blood was sent across to Daijiro, and blocked the way to his mother. Her eyes softened at his action, and she straightened. “This discussion is over. Take your child and leave, Kamo. I will take mine. There is no alliance to be forged here. Gojo clan!” She called to the maids, soldiers and workers of the Gojo clan who had come along with them on the journey. “We shall set off back home right now. Prepare.”

Daijiro stared at her with rage and humiliation. But when he glanced at the sea of judgmental eyes surrounding him, he knew he lost. With a barely concealed snarl, he turned on his heel, motioning for his family to follow.

Satoru fixed his sword back into its scabbard. His mother turned to you, softening again. She rested a hand lightly on your shoulder. “Come. We shall leave this place now, for good this time.”

She led you out of the hall, her grip steady and reassuring, even as the whispers behind you grew louder.

──── ୨ৎ ────

The journey back home felt strangely fast compared to the painstaking crawl southward. Perhaps it was Satoru’s mother’s fiery words that had lit a spark of patriotism among the servants, and maybe even the horses. Whatever the case, you arrived at the Gojo estate far sooner than expected.

You barely had time to set foot inside when Satoru found you. He cornered you in one of the quieter hallways. The first thing you noticed was his face; his usual, easygoing expression was clouded with something you had never seen before.

“Did you know?” he asked.

You blinked, thrown off by the abruptness. “Did I know what?”

“That you’re my fiancee.” The words came out bitter and flat, as if he couldn’t believe he was saying them aloud.

Your breath caught in your throat. You had been bracing for this conversation, but not so soon. Not like this. “Yes,” you admitted after a moment.

He reeled back, as though the admission had physically struck him. “You knew?” His voice rose, echoing off the corridor walls. “How long? How long have you known?”

“A year,” you said hesitantly, feeling guilt rise up in your throat. “I mean… last year, your mother—”

“A year?” His voice cracked, and he ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “You’ve known for an entire year, and you didn’t think to tell me?”

“I thought she would tell you,” you stammered. “She said she’d handle it.”

“Well, clearly, she didn’t!” he snapped, spinning to face you again. “So what, you were just going to wait until the wedding invitations went out?”

“That’s not what I meant!” you shot back. “I didn’t even agree to this in the first place. I was just as blindsided as you when she told me!”

“But she did tell you, and you did know,” he repeated coldly. “And you didn’t think I had a right to know?”

“You’re acting like I had a choice!” you said, your voice rising to match his.

“That doesn’t excuse keeping it from me!” he shouted too. “You and my mom — both of you — went behind my back. You made me feel like an idiot standing in that room today.”

“Oh, we made you look like an idiot?” you scoffed. “Why? Because you were actually planning to agree to her proposal? Because you wanted to marry that witch of a woman?”

His eyes widened in disbelief. “Are you serious? I barely even looked at her if I didn’t have to!”

“That was because mother had told you not to!” you countered. “Don’t stand there and question me when you’ve been acting like you have other options.”

“I didn’t know I didn’t have other options!” he shouted. “Because no one told me! The two people I trust the most in this world, you both kept me in the dark!”

You sighed. “Satoru—”

“No,” he cut you off. “Do you have any idea what this feels like? To know that the people you rely on the most didn’t think you were worth the truth?”

“That’s not fair,” you said softly, trying to find the right words. “I was just obeying mother—”

“Obeying mother?” he laughed incredulously. “By lying to me?”

“I didn’t lie!” you snapped. “I just… didn’t know how to tell you.”

“Well, you should have figured it out,” he said bitterly. “Because now, all I can think about is how little I actually know about you. About us. About… anything.”

The air between you felt heavy, suffocating. You wanted to say something, anything to fix the look of betrayal in his eyes, but your mind was blank.

Finally, he shook his head, his voice dropping to a strained whisper. “Look… I’ve never thought of you that way before, okay? You’re… you’re pretty, but you’re like a sister to me. That’s how I’ve always seen you. Nothing more. Nothing less.”

Oh. Of course.

“I need space,” he muttered, stepping back. “I need time to think.”

──── READ PART II HERE

2K notes · View notes

miniseokminnies · 2 months ago

Text

the gambit —- y.jh

♙ pairing: yoon jeonghan x fem!reader ♙ genre: enemies to lovers, rivals to lovers, 1960s au, university au, chess club president!jeonghan, club member!yn ♙ wc: ~12.5k ♙ warnings: 18+ MDNI, sexism (it's the 1960s), heavily implied reader is a virgin, unprotected sex (that's a no no), oral sex [f. receiving], fingering, pet names, praise kink, marking, drinking and getting drunk, a lot of rude men ♙ a/n: this is obviously VERY LOOSELY inspired by The Queen's Gambit lol. give jeonghan a chance he's learning okay?? thank you to my army of beta readers: @haologram, @lovetaroandtaemin, @highvern, and @tomodachiii i genuienly would not have this posted without them. ♙tags: @seungkw1, @cherry-zip, @crab-ranjun, @myhimbomingi oh and happy holidays i guess (i wanted to have this out way sooner) enjoy! and as always comments, likes and reblogs are always appreciated

Three succinct knocks rang out as you rapped your knuckles against the door frame. The man alone inside the room looked in your direction. Looking him over you noticed his striking features that were delicately framed by his black hair that was only a bit shorter than your own.

“Are you lost, miss?” He straightened up, “Sorority recruitment is across the hall.” He turned back to setting up the chess set on the table in front of him.

“What?” you asked, confused, “No, this is the chess club, is it not?”

“It is,” he didn’t bother looking in your direction this time.

“Then I am in the right place,” you took a few steps into the room as he looked up at you again.

“Girls don’t play chess.” he stifled a laugh.

“There’s nothing in the university rules against gir-women joining recreational clubs.” You watched him sigh and snatch a notebook off the table.

“Look,” he walked closer to you and held out the notebook, “you may watch”

“I have my own notebook, thank you.” You turned on your heel and huffed into a chair near a chess set across the room. The man watched you for a moment before turning back to his task of setting up the chess boards. You could only assume that he was the president of the club, but could not wrap your head around why he was voted in.

After waiting for a few moments several more boys began trickling into the room, all of them giving you a once over. Have these people never seen a girl before?

“Excuse me miss,” one of the boys approached you and sat at the board nearest to you, “I’m Minghao”

“Y/N,” you nodded and scribbled his name down in your book. You could feel Minghao’s eyes on you, but you didn’t feel as though you owed him any explanation. After a few minutes another boy who introduced himself as Wonwoo joined Minghao at the table.

The president announced that the meeting today would function “tournament style” and everyone should get the chance to have a match with each other. Perfect.

Wonwoo and Minghao played well, but Wonwoo had a bad habit of leaving his queen unprotected and Minghao always overutilized his rook. In the end, even with a queen out in the open, Wonwoo found a checkmate.

Minghao was unhappy with this result and challenged him to a rematch outside of club time which Wonwoo eagerly agreed to. You were finishing up your notes on their match when two new men appeared at your table introducing themselves as Mark and Yunho.

The remaining matches went by quickly, you felt the president’s eyes on you every so often, he wondered what you could possibly be taking such detailed notes about when you weren’t even playing. Men came and went, all politely introducing themselves to you, clearly they don’t take after their fearless leader in any capacity.

The “tournament” went on for a few hours, your ass was starting to go numb from the chair by the time it was called in favor of the president, who peculiarly you never had the opportunity to observe. He dismissed the club and they all filtered out as you finished up your notes. You heard his footsteps approaching as you dotted the last punctuation on the page.

“So?” he started smugly, “Enjoy your observations?” he watched as you ripped out several pages of your own notebook. You rose out of your seat and square your shoulders, you shoved the pages into his chest and left the room without another word. He watched you leave the room, your skirt swishing around your knees.

Tearing his eyes from the door he looked down at the papers you left him. He read over them and quickly realized what it was you were doing all this time. Each member was written down and in detail you scrawled out every single missed check from each and every game played here today.

The bottom of the page reads “The President: ?”

“What are you doing?” your roommate, Cami, flopped around in her bed, “It’s the first month of classes, there’s no way you have course work already”

“I don’t” you moved your rook, not looking away from the board, “Remember how I told you I was going to join the chess club?”

“Yes?”

“Well the stupid president won’t let me play” you captured white’s queen, “so I’m not able to practice with anyone” you heard her throw her blankets around and the clatter of her hand hitting her glasses,

“What?” she hissed, “he can’t do that can he?” she sat up in bed

“I mean,” you finally looked up at her, “He didn’t technically bar me from joining”

“Look at you” she scoffed, “Making you just sit there and watch when you’re the best player like ever!”

“I am nowhere near the best, Cami.”

“Well” she protested, “You’re the best player I know!”

“I’m the only player you know,” you laughed.

“Not true!” she hopped off her bed, “Teach me.” She pulled out her desk chair and pulled it next to you. You quirk an eyebrow at her, “Seriously! Teaching is great practice plus you keep me awake with this dreadful lamp anyway”

You swipe all of the pieces from the board and begin to set them back up in their proper places, you set the black in place and invite Cami to mirror them with the white on the other side. Starting off you teach her some simple and popular openings. For as airy as she tends to be she is an attentive listener and is able to grasp the basics quickly.

You feel like you could cry, no one has truly taken this much of an interest in you, besides your parents and some friends from high school. When you first moved in with Cami you were worried she would join a sorority on campus and never be around, and while you like your alone time, being alone is a difficult task.

“And how do you win?” Cami asked once the board was scarce with pieces.

“You need a successful and all encompassing check,” you move your queen to trap her king sufficiently, “Like this one, check mate” you reach over and softly lay the king on the board.

From your usual chair in the back of the room you strain to listen to the conversation happening between Wonwoo and the president, who you learned recently was named Jeonghan. The discussion looked heated and Wonwoo was hesitating at the door frame like a child being scolded.

Jeonghan threw his hands up, exasperated, and turned to make a beeline for you. You fumbled about trying to get your notebook open and to a page to make it look like you weren’t just eavesdropping.

“You heard all of that I’m assuming,” he asked gruffly, “You’re not as subtle as you would like to think.”

“What?” you blinked up at him. He bent down to get closer to your face,

“Don’t play dumb, we both know you aren’t,” he nearly growled, “You were listening to that entire conversation”

“I was trying to,” you admitted with a roll of your eyes, “I couldn’t hear a thing from over here,” He backs away from you and makes a subtle noise of approval.

“You’re with Minghao today,” he said as he was turning to leave, which made you shoot up out of your chair.

“I actually get to play?” You blurted out, which caused him to turn back to you,

“Yeah,” he scoffed at your enthusiasm, “Uneven numbers, Minghao needs a partner, Wonwoo had to go tutor our idiot friend Mingyu, I guess” You made a mental note to thank whoever Mingyu was profusely if you were to ever meet him. Jeonghan took your silence as an invitation to leave this conversation,as if he had ever needed one before.

You glanced around the room until you found Minghao’s eyes on you.

“Hi,” You offered your hand for him to shake as you approached his table. He easily took your hand and shook it.

“Sit, sit” he insisted, “It’s an honor to be the first to play you, sorry it’s under weird circumstances,” he chuckles awkwardly.

You told Minghao not to worry about the circumstances, you were just happy to be playing after weeks of sitting around watching. With this he began the game, he utilized a simple opener and your first capture came quickly. This wasn’t to say that Minghao wasn’t a good player and didn’t put up a fight.

You, however, were hungry to show everyone here that you were not to be messed with. Minghao felt that you were two steps ahead of him the entire match, he didn’t understand how it felt like you were in his head and knew his moves. If it wasn’t so impressive he would be infuriated.

He didn’t even mind that you baited him quickly into a checkmate. He wanted to see you beat Jeonghan, to wipe the winning streak clean. Even more, he wanted to see Jeonghan get beat by a freshman, a wickedly smart and kind of scary freshman.

“What are you doing?” Jeonghan asked from across the room where he was putting pieces back into boxes, “I need to clean that up and I can’t very well do that when you’re still using it”

“Minghao almost beat me” You mumbled, not looking up from the board. You hear Jeonghan sigh and walk toward you.

“Almosts don’t matter in chess, you either win or you don’t” he swiped your notebook from under your elbow, “And you won”

“Give it back, Yoon, I’m not in the mood” you attempted to grab it back from him.

“When are you ever,” he snorted, holding the book over his head. You shot out of your chair.

“Give it back!” you attempted to reach for it, “I’m trying to find weaknesses in my game and you’re acting like a child!”

“Fine,” he lowered the book with a look in his eyes that let you know that this would not be that easy, “play me then” You blinked at him,

“Really?”

“You’re looking for weaknesses in your game, play me” he pulled out the chair recently vacated by Minghao and sat down, “Well? I don’t have all night." You took your seat, studying Jeonghan’s face. He has never been across from you as your opponent, let alone offered a match. He passes your notebook back to you and watches as you carefully turn to a new page, crack the spine, and scrawl out his name and the date at the top of the page.

You carefully move your first pawn, which in return Jeonghan moves his, beginning the dance. Your second pawn takes its place and you hear your opponent chuckle.

“What?” you spat defensively.

“Oh nothing,” he hides his smile with his hand, “you’re just predictable, you always start with attempting a queen’s gambit”. Heat rushes to your cheeks and you immediately know you are at a disadvantage, Jeonghan knows your game and you know nothing of his. He delicately moves a second pawn forward, “Queen’s gambit declined” he sits back in his chair, thinking he already has you beat.

The first capture of the match is in you taking his first pawn, he returns the favor by taking yours quickly. The two of you go back and forth like this for several turns. You realize quickly that he is very much your equal, he is smart and clever, but he plays rigidly and by the book. By the book players are usually easy for you to handle.

Jeonghan was different, it’s almost as if he knew your moves before you made them, and admittedly he kind of did. Not well enough, you were nervous in the middle of the match but now you were sure that you could lure him into a checkmate within three moves.

Letting him capture your rook was a small sacrifice. Luring him into a false sense of security letting him take this piece and your queen earlier in the game, so that your second rook could move to take his queen and leaving his king open. Attempting to move his king out of the line of fire from your rook only placed it in harm's way at the hands of your bishop.

“Checkmate” you declared. Jeonghan sat quietly, you saw the math he was doing in his mind by the way his eyes were flitting around the board, calculating his mistakes. You gathered your things and swiped them into your arms and turned to leave.

Fingers encircled your wrist and pulled you to face him. Judging by the look on his face he did not think before he acted for once, “If it means so much to you, I won’t tell anyone I beat you,” you offered, rolling your eyes.

“You’re infuriatingly irritating” was the last thing he said before pulling you closer and pressing his soft lips to yours. You stood perfectly still, shocked at the sudden development, Jeonghan didn’t push until you parted your lips. With this he deepened the kiss, his mouth tasted of tobacco, the expensive kind. His skin was warm against yours, and you weren’t sure why you didn’t entirely hate this exchange.

Tentatively, you placed your hands on his hips, your notebook falling to the floor forgotten. Jeonghan swiped his tongue into your mouth and you let him. He felt your fingers grip for dear life and tried to ignore the fact that the gesture caused his head to swim. He had the faintest idea of why he kissed you and even less of an idea on why you let him but he would not complain. He tangled his hands in your hair.

He pulled your lip between his teeth and it snapped something in you, you pressed your thighs together and sighed. When Jeonghan moved to plant kisses just below your ear you realized what was happening and pushed back against his chest.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“You seemed to enjoy it.” he sighed pushing a hand through his hair.

“I don’t know what this is,” you picked up your notebook, “but find someone else to help you out next time you get hard over a girl beating you”

You shifted uncomfortably in the doorway of the fraternity house as Cami was informing the poor boy working the door who she was and who the two of you were intending to meet inside. Finally, after what felt like an eternity out on the porch, he stepped aside and the two of you shuffled past him. The inside of the house was nothing special, it smelled of smoke and sweat. There were groups of people scattered about talking and drinking.

Cami put a hand on your arm and began to pull you further into the house, “Come on!” she shouted over the noise, “I’m meeting him in the kitchen!” and she began weaving her way through the house, as if she had done this a thousand times before.

The kitchen was open and frankly dirty. There was a couple making out against the counter closest to where your roommate dragged you.

“Y/N, this is Mingyu, the guy I told you about,” she smiled up at him, “and this is Y/N, my roommate”

“Nice to meet you,” Mingyu smiled at you momentarily before turning his attention back to the girl he actually invited to this party. You were surprised, you figured it would have taken longer than five minutes for you to start wondering why you came here in the first place. You were starting to feel boxed in, the couple on the counter was getting dangerously close to exposing themselves to you, and Mingyu was whispering close to your roommate's ear. You could only imagine the filthy things he was surely saying to her, judging by the scarlet blush rising up her neck and the giddy smile playing at her lips.

“Take this,” a familiar voice cut through the panic, a small glass being pressed into your hand. Looking up, Jeonghan had a matching glass up to his lips, looking down at you expectantly. You followed suit and the two of you tipped the glasses back together. The liquid burned your throat and you sputtered a cough as you felt the heat settle in your belly. “Woah,” he stifled a laugh, “Never had a drink before, noted,” he filled up his shot glass with water from the sink and traded it for your empty glass. He guided it to your lips and disappeared down the hall, just as quickly as he approached.

The water dulled the burn in your throat. During your exchange with Jeonghan your roommate and Mingyu disappeared somewhere, sighing you left the kitchen to find them or somewhere quiet to sit down, whichever came first.

As it turned out, at a party there are few places unoccupied by people. You took to walking laps around the bottom floor of the house looking out for anyone leaving or a room you missed. On lap one thousand (give or take) you heard your roommate’s laugh cut through the dull thrum of the music from the turntable in the living room. You looked toward where you heard her, your shoulders slumped seeing Mingyu lead her up the stairs, cursing under your breath you stomped through the kitchen and into the first door you came across.

You plop to the ground and cross your arms over your chest, if anyone were to be looking at you right now you’re sure you would look like a petulant child. You’re not even sure why you’re angry, you knew she would end up hooking up with this guy tonight. Walking home could be an option, however it’s getting cold…and do you even remember how to get back? Don’t parties like this typically have sober drivers? But I’m not drunk…I only had whatever Jeonghan gave me, you thought, Jeonghan! You could find him, but how embarrassing would it be to crawl to him for help right now? He would use it against you forever and you are as good as kicked out of the chess club after this! What would have been the point of any of this if you can’t play chess? This stupid situation with Jeonghan would have been for naught.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door opening, you scramble to situate yourself in this damned skirt to have any semblance of appropriateness for whoever is coming through that door.

“What are you doing in the laundry room?” you could hear the smirk in his tone before you even looked up. Jeonghan slipped into the small room, which when looking around you realized it was in fact the laundry room. He closed the door behind him with the hand not occupied with a bottle of liquor and a cigarette perched between his pointer and middle fingers. Scooting back you pressed your back against the washing machine and stretched your legs straight in front of you. Jeonghan grunted while sitting down on the floor next to you, his back up against the dryer. He set down the bottle and two of those little glasses from earlier on the floor in front of him.

“There was nowhere else to sit…” You offered quietly. “My stupid roommate went upstairs with some guy and she is the only reason I’m even at this fucking party! I wanted to stay home tonight, but she dragged me out here and–and are you trying to get me drunk?” you interrupted yourself, eyes flicking between the contents on the floor and Jeonghan. He cracked a smile, not a smirk, a smile, at your question.

“No, Dove,” he chuckled sticking the cigarette between his lips, “I’m trying to get you to loosen up for once,” he brought his hand above your thigh, hesitating in the air for only a moment before placing it down slightly above your knee, kneading the flesh there. Jeonghan had kissed you last week, but this felt…intimate, not angry. Before you had the chance to yell at him he brought his hand back to his lap, “You’re tense.”

“Yeah, not a great night,” you pointed out, “And it seems like it is getting weird now,” he rolled his eyes at your addition and began pouring the liquid into the two glasses.

“Take another shot with me, will you?” he attempted to hand you the glass, “before I decide you’ve annoyed me too much for one night”

“No”

“Y/N please, don’t be so insufferable for once,” he moved his glass to his lips and removed the cigarette, which admittedly was distracting enough for you to almost give in. You held strong. Jeonghan clicked his tongue disapprovingly and threw back the contents of the glass. He brought his free hand and scrubbed his face, “Fine, let’s play a game.” he poured himself another shot.

“What kind of game?”

“Really that’s all it took?” he looked at you, his eyes starting to shine with the alcohol, “Beggars can’t be choosers, I suppose.” he taps the glass with his fingers, a habit that manifests when he’s thinking, you’ve noticed throughout his chess matches,

“You’re making a game up,” you point out nonchalantly,

“What?” the drumming stops for a moment, “No, I’m remembering the rules”

“No you’re not, tell me about your made up game, Yoon”

“It’s a real game…anyway, rules are simple, you ask me a question, I answer, then you answer. If you don’t want to answer, you take a shot, if we both answer, we both take a shot”

“Those rules don’t make sense” “Yes they do, who was the first LP you ever got?” you were taken aback by the tameness of his question, but you figured he was just getting started.

“The Blues and the Abstract Truth by Oliver Nelson”

“Jazz?” he scoffed, “Have you ever thought about not being boring?”

“Have you ever thought about being a decent person?”

“Don’t get unglued,” he rolled his eyes, “mine was Nice’n’Easy by Frank Sinatra” With that he tipped his glass back and emptied it, you followed suit and tried not to cough this time. He gestured to you seemingly inviting you to ask a question of your own. You thought for a moment,

“Why do you play chess?” you asked.

“My dad figured it would be a good skill to have” he shrugged, “But I think it has something to do with the fact that the world chess champion was, and still is, a Soviet. I don’t really care about that though, I just like to play, I’m good at it.”

“You only play chess because you’re good at it?” you said flatly

“Ah ah” he tsked, “You already asked your question, so either answer or drink up”

“Fine,” you sighed with a pointed look in his direction, “My grandpa taught me, I always watched him and his buddy play when he babysat me. I learned by watching and then eventually playing, and beating, both of them.”

“Learning chess just by watching,” he mumbled and shook his head. “Gimme,” his lithe fingers took the glass from your hand, set it on the floor next to his and poured another round. You both drank the shot with no complaint.

The game continued like this for a while, Jeonghan never asking anything that stumped you, and in return he answered every question of yours. You weren’t sure what being drunk actually felt like but if someone told you this was it you would believe them. Your muscles relaxed more than you can remember in recent months, your vision was slightly blurry, and you felt a pleasant buzz in your brain. Jeonghan was slumped against the dryer and his head leaned on your shoulder.

“When’s your birthday?” Jeonghan asked, playing with your fingers lightly.

“January 2”

“Coming up,” he noted, “Mine was October 4”

“How old are you now?”

“22” he sighed, “graduating in May” You knew Jeonghan was older than you, but you hadn’t thought about the fact that he would be actually graduating, leaving. Something about that made you sick to your stomach in a way, but you weren’t sure why, don’t you hate him?

“I’ll be 19 next month” you mumbled. He shifted his body to sit up and look at you. His eyes were glassy and heavy, physical evidence of the alcohol thrumming in his system.

“Are you drunk?” he asked

“I have no earthly idea, Han” he smiled at the nickname. He reached over to cup your cheek in his hand, unconsciously you melted into him.

“I might be,” he mumbled, and even in your intoxicated state you couldn’t miss the way his eyes flicked from yours to your lips, only for a moment. After what felt like ages he connected his lips to yours. The kiss was sweet, his lips were warm and he didn’t rush it. He held you as his tongue swiped against your bottom lip, requesting entrance. Once that entrance was granted it was as if the floodgates opened for him. Both of his hands were in your hair and he was licking into your mouth. Jeonghan tasted of the alcohol the two of you had been drinking the entire night, different from the taste on his lips last time. Jeonghan curiously tugged at the hair around his fingers.

Butterflies, or something like that but infinitely more intense, erupted in your stomach. The suddenness of it all allowed a whine to escape your lips. With that Jeonghan pulled back from you but stayed close enough for your noses to still be touching.

“I think you should start coming to meetings early,” he panted. The only response you could muster was a nod, and an attempt to bring his lips back to yours. He pulled back against your request, and much to your dismay the wicked smirk was back on his face, “Y/N, are you a virgin?” You were taken aback by the question, you backed away from him and grabbed the bottle on the floor. You forwent the shot glass and just took a long pull from the lip. He watched you down the burning liquid before nodding, “So that’s a yes,” he settled back against the dryer and watched you flounder.

“You don’t know that!” you stood up, feeling wobbly on your feet, “Maybe I’m just being a lady”

“Woah,” he stood up and wrapped his arm around your waist in an attempt to steady you, “but it doesn’t really matter, I trapped you, even a nonanswer would have told me what I wanted to know, I won and you know it.” You attempted to hit his chest but the way he was holding you proved it impossible. He maneuvered you to sit back down, “Sit right here, I’m gonna go find your roommate and get you home.”

The walk back to your dorm was quicker than you thought it was, but that could be on account of the alcohol warming your skin. Jeonghan informed you that your roommate had decided to stay the night with Mingyu back at the house so the responsibility of getting your drunk self home fell on him. Serves him right, he’s the one who got you to this state in the first place. Your arm linked with his and his arm around your waist he walked the short trek very carefully, because he truly was not sober himself.

He fished your room key out of your pocket and let the two of you into your room. He blinked to adjust to the lower light, the room was only illuminated by the lamp on your desk that you must have forgotten to turn out before leaving earlier in the night. Moving further into the room he helped you sit down on the bed. On the desk there was a chess board with a half finished game set up. He smiled to himself moving closer to see that the pieces of paper strewn about were the notes you always take during matches with him. You’re replaying matches between the two of you he realized.

“Y/N” he called, tearing his eyes away from the pretty way your handwriting captures his name, “You gotta change.”

“Tired,” you grumbled from the bed. He moved towards you and attempted to pull you up.

“Come on, you can’t sleep in this” he begged, “Fine! Where do you keep your pajamas?”

“Top drawer”

He moved the short distance to your dresser and opened the top drawer. He flushed seeing your undergarments being housed in the same space as your pajamas but he tried to ignore the feeling in his stomach. He pulled out the first nightgown he found and moved back to you.

“Okay, undress” he was met with protest noises. He sighed and moved to the hem on your shirt, “I’m going to help you and then leave, okay?” he waited for your approval and then began lifting your shirt up over your head. He felt perverted in a way as he watched each inch of your skin come into view and then the clothed swell of your breasts. The situation was in no way sexual and he had no plans to take advantage, but he had never seen you in a vulnerable state before. You were softer than you often let on, something he almost didn’t believe.

He removed the shirt completely and moved to unclasp your bra. He hesitated only slightly before taking the plunge. He removed the piece of fabric and quickly, and unceremoniously shoved the nightgown over your head. Finally, you were dressed for bed and he helped you under the covers.

Soon he heard your soft snores and took this as his signal to leave. Turning out the lamp he pressed his lips to your forehead, hoping it didn’t hurt too terribly in the morning.

“Goodnight, Y/N”

The gentle sting of teeth against your neck paired with the vice grip on your thigh under your skirt almost sent you into a frenzy.

“Jeonghan” you shied away from his mouth, he grunted and chased you in response, “Jeonghan!” you hissed and pulled his hair until his lips separated from your neck.

“What?” he whispered, his eyes heavy and clouded with lust.

“The boys will be here in,” you twisted to check your watch, “Twenty minutes and I would rather not have them distracted by fresh hickies on my neck for the entire meeting.”

“And why not?” he attempted to connect to the spot below your ear again, “They might respect you more if they know you’re getting some”

“They respect me just fine!” you shove against his shoulder, but there weren’t many places for him to go in the small closet. His hand stayed gripped on your thigh.

“Okay, okay” he conceded, taking back his place crowding you against the wall behind you. “You’re tense again” a squeeze to your thigh, “let me help” his hand slowly traveled higher, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

All you could do was nod.

A flash of a smirk and he is wedging his thigh between your knees, “Keep ‘em spread” he commanded. His hand continued up and up until - oh - his thumb pressed that delicious bundle of nerves, separated only by the thin cotton of your underwear. He watches your face as you bite your lip, if he was a better man he wouldn’t be doing this in the supply closet, but the promise of seeing you unspool was too delicious. He’ll make it up to you someday, he promises himself.

He started with slow torturous circles, refusing to move the barrier. The touches are too feather light, you resist the urge to rut up against him in an attempt to increase the friction. This didn’t stop the pathetic whine from escaping your lips. “What was that?” Jeonghan teased, increasing the pressure on your clit.

“Please…” you screwed your eyes shut.

“Is this what you want?” he slid your underwear to the side and gathered your arousal on his fingers. Nodding you felt him slip in a finger experimentally. You bucked your hips to meet him, “Eager” he commented nonchalantly. The tightness in his pants reminded him that time was of the essence and he slipped in another finger.

You bit your lip to keep quiet, no matter how much Jeonghan encouraged you to let him hear you. His long fingers reached a spot inside you that you didn’t know existed with ease. You rocked on his fingers, feeling a tightness in your stomach begin to gather.

Jeonghan pulled aside the neck of your sweater to access a new swath of skin untouched by him until now. He sucked a deep bruise just below your collarbone as you felt the snap in your stomach.

The euphoria washed over you in waves and Jeonghan continued his ruminations until you came down from your high. Once you were more lucid, you noticed the gaping neck of your sweater. Your hand flew to where the top two buttons once were and gasped.

“You ripped the buttons off my sweater, you ass”

“Right like I meant to!” he began to scan the cluttered floor for the buttons.

“Well I don’t have the time to go back to change” you gritted your teeth, “This was my favorite sweater” you stormed out of the closet, leaving Jeonghan’s apology to die on his lips. What you didn’t expect was Minghao sitting at the table closest to you, reading. You clutched your sweater, careful to cover your new mark. He tore his eyes away from his book and just looked at you, it felt like he was looking right through you.

You open your mouth to explain yourself but the sound of Mark bursting through the door with Yunho stole the moment away from you. Minghao gave a curt nod of understanding and snapped his book closed. Jeonghan entered the room, clearly trying not to look flushed. You shot him a pointed look and proceeded to sit in front of an empty chess board.

“Pair up,” he mumbled, “scrimmages today” and throws himself into the chair across from you. “Take that look off your face, Dove” you blinked at him, not realizing there was even a look, you were just surprised he was willingly choosing you, in front of everyone. However, if he was going to act like this, you could make the meeting Hell too.

His timer clicked, he made his first move. Jeonghan was going to lose this match, you stretched your legs, leaving your foot next to his. You felt his eyes boring into your skull as you were making your opening. Your timer clicked. Jeonghan laced his fingers under his chin, it would look like he was thinking, but you knew better, he was trying to figure you out this time. He reached to move his knight and you trailed your foot up his leg, disrupting his trousers. Placing his knight down with a definitive thunk he looked up at you with widened eyes.

“Your timer, Jeonghan” you smirked. Click. Jeonghan watched your subsequent move, trying desperately to ignore the tightness in the crotch of his pants. You played it safe for a majority of the game, letting Jeonghan believe that you were the one distracted by your nonsense. You let him have some meaningless captures.

His fingers weren’t drumming on the desk, he felt confident. You captured his bishop. You could easily have a checkmate within four or five moves. You brought his bishop to your lips and hit your timer. You looked at him from under your lashes and waited.

Jeonghan watched the white piece rest against your pretty lips, what was wrong with him? You were doing next to nothing but the hardness in his pants was almost painful at this point. His hesitancy was evident,

“I know” you whispered against the bishop, “It’s just so hard” Jeonghan had to bite his lip to keep from whimpering. He made a quick careless move and hit the timer. Smiling, you set the bishop aside and moved your queen into position, “Checkmate.”

“What is wrong with you?”

The only sound in your room was the soft drag of the white bishop you moved across your chess board. Cami was out, probably with Mingyu, as she is most nights nowadays. The game you were playing against yourself was almost finished and you were planning to retire to bed or to do some reading afterwards. Even you had your limit on the amount of chess you could play in a day.

You picked up the black knight thinking to capture a white pawn when there was a knock at your door. Untangling yourself from the position that was comfortable until you thought about it you stretched your legs and padded to the door. You don’t tend to get visitors unless Cami is home so you’re not sure who this could be.

Swinging the door open you see the familiar shape of Jeonghan standing in the hallway, illuminated by the fluorescent lighting. He was dressed more casually than you’d ever seen him, clad in an oversized t-shirt and pair of shorts with the faded logo of what you guessed was his high school hanging off his hips. You fold your arms over your chest, suddenly very aware of your lack of bra.

“Are you stalking me now, Yoon?” he blinked at you a couple times before pushing past you into your room and uttering,

“Do you really not remember?” he sits at your desk in front of the almost finished chess game, “Can I sit here?”

“You already are,” you raised an eyebrow as you took a seat across from him on your bed. Seeing Jeonghan comfortable and relaxed in the low light of your room was strange, but not entirely off putting. Almost as if he belonged here in a way. “Remember what?”

“I brought you home after Seungcheol’s party when Cami ditched you” he studied the remaining pieces on the board. Jeonghan doesn’t know when he started remembering things, like the name of your roommate, about you. He didn’t mind having you in his head, but he wasn’t aware just how often you were on his mind until this moment, seeing you bathed in the lamp light of your room.

“Wait,” your cheeks grew red and you felt the heat in them rise.

“Yes, I changed your clothes, no I didn’t look, but at this point does it matter?” His brown eyes gazed up at you before they trailed down your body, he realized that this is the first time he has seen you in your casual attire since that night.

“Maybe not…” You mumble, “But it certainly did at the time.” He scoffed and rolled his eyes and settled them back on the chess board in front of him. You watched as he moved the rook into position,

“Checkmate” he smirked smugly,

“I played that game myself, don’t think you’ve beaten me because you finished it.” He clicked his tongue disapprovingly at your comment and stood up from the chair and moved toward you. He stood in front of you and tapped your knee, you spread your legs so he could stand between them, you mentally cursed yourself for the automatic response. Moving in between your knees he ran his hands through your hair, he looked down at you, his face softer than you’d seen it in a while. His features were beautiful when he was concentrated and vengeful during a match but the soft moments between were quickly becoming your favorites.

“Hi,” he whispered, he could almost laugh, he felt so boyish. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Han,” you laughed, “you don’t need an excuse to kiss me, if that’s what you’re looking for”

“Okay Ms. Smarty Pants,” he ducked his head to press his lips to yours. What felt like lightning crackled between your lips and into your stomach, he hadn’t touched you let alone kissed you since that day that you teased him at the meeting in front of everyone. Partly because you stopped showing up early, and partly because he was clearly mad at you for the spectacle you caused. He had never anticipated Wonwoo of all people to ask him what that was all about.

A hand trailed from your hair down to your chest. You whined as Jeonghan took a handful of your breast and kneaded it underneath his fingers. He deepened the kiss at the sounds you were making. His teeth grazed your lip as he pinched your nipple between his fingers. His other hand was gripping your bare thigh.

He broke the kiss and grabbed the loose fabric of your nightgown and pulled it up around your hips. Hooking his thumbs under the waistband of your panties he mutters,

“Can we try something?” All you could do was nod in response. He swiftly shimmied the fabric down and onto the floor. “Let me know if it’s too much for you, okay?”

Jeonghan sank to his knees in front of you, his mouth level with your bare cunt. He takes his time sucking deep bruises into your thighs, he was only going to do it once but the sweet noises you made in response were too beautiful to ignore. You felt the sting of teeth on the last bruise, and then the soothing sensation of his tongue. In an attempt to get his long hair out of the way he raked his hand through it and leveled himself with your heat.

He licked the first fat stripe up your cunt, the warmth of his mouth on you was a new and spectacular feeling. He felt all encompassing, you were surrounded by him, and you couldn’t imagine anything better in this moment. He flattened his tongue against you and dragged it through your folds slowly. Your eyes screwed shut at the overwhelming sensation.

His lips wrapped around your swollen clit and began to suck. Jeonghan felt absolutely high on the sounds he was eliciting from you. Slowly, he moved from your clit to your entrance and experimentally dipped inside. You filled the room with quiet moans as he began to pump his tongue in and out of you. The coil in your stomach began to tighten, you bucked your hips up searching for stimulation on your clit. Jeonghan pulled away from you and you shivered at the lack of warmth. He blew lightly into your cunt, a whine getting pulled from your throat.

“Just wait, Dove, I’ll take care of you.” He stood and helped you out of the nightgown the rest of the way. You sat up slightly and reached for his shirt. He looked beautiful with the flush of want on his cheeks and the sheen of you on his chin. He smiled down at you and allowed you to peel off his shirt, “Lay down all the way” he whispered as he pulled off the rest of his clothes. You readjusted on the bed. He crawled on top of you, “Are you okay with this?” You nodded, you let your eyes wander down his body and caught a glimpse of his stiff cock, leaking and angry. The tension in your thighs returned, nervous for this next step.

“Hey,” he whispered, “look at me”, your eyes finding his, “Relax for me, Dove. We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to”

“I want to,” you whispered. He smiled softly at you and pressed his lips to yours. He reached down and stroked his cock a few times before lining up at your entrance. You took a deep breath.

“I’m serious this time, you need to relax,” his eyes were dark with lust but ultimately serious. He reached to knead the muscle of your plush thigh. You nodded to show him you understood and tried to release some tension you were holding.

You felt the head of his cock push past your entrance. The feeling was entirely different to what you were used to with his fingers. He moved slowly, scared to overwhelm you. He stayed still for several agonizing minutes, allowing you to adjust to the new sensation.

“You can move now,” you breathed out quietly. He nodded and slowly began to rock his hips. It was almost as if you could feel every single vein dragging against your walls. The feeling was nothing short of intoxicating, you felt so full.

“Oh Dove,” his voice was deeper than you have ever heard it, “you feel so perfect, like you were made for me.” His praises went straight to your core and you couldn’t help but moan. “If you keep,” he grunted, “sounding perfect like that I won’t last.”

He doesn’t. Neither do you. He didn’t expect you to, you don’t last long on his fingers, his cock was a different story entirely. What he didn’t expect was how fast he was spent. He thinks he meant it when he said you were perfect, he fit inside of you just right. Thinking about how perfect you were had him releasing hot white spurts of himself inside of you.

He leaned forward to move the sweaty pieces of hair from your forehead and pressed a kiss to your temple.

“You okay, Dove?”

“I’m fab,” you breathed. Jeonghan laughed and slowly pulled out of you. He took a moment to look at your spent cunt, leaking with him.

“Uh, let me get you cleaned up,” he stumbled out of the bed and moved toward your collection of bath towels. He returned with one and helped clean you up. He rummaged through your drawer, retrieved a clean set of underwear and sent you to the bathroom. He got himself dressed and sat on the bed. He ran his hands through his hair.

When you came back you laid back down together. You draped your legs over his. The two of you stayed this way for what felt like hours. You talked about everything, he asked you about your classes, how you’re adjusting to being away from home, and your impressions of the guys in the chess club.

Talking to Jeonghan was easy, much easier than your first impression had led you to believe. Eventually, you fell asleep mid sentence. Cute, Jeonghan thought. He was starting to realize he found most of the things you did cute.

He slipped out of your bed and covered you with the blanket. Before he left he slipped your ruined sweater from where it was draped haphazardly over the foot of your bed. With that, he was out of the room and bounding down the hall.

“Y/N! Wait up!” Turning around you see Minghao jogging to catch up with you. You smile at him as he joins you, “Where you headed?”

“The teaching building,” you jerked your head in the direction of the building.

“Let me walk with you, I’m going to the art building, but I need to ask you about something.” he gestured for you to keep walking. You nodded and began the walk, “So what on Earth are you doing?”

“What?” you raised an eyebrow, “I’m going to class?”

“No” he shook his head, “With Jeonghan” you had to force yourself to keep walking and not stop right there in the middle of the sidewalk and gawk at him, “Oh come on, Y/N I’m not stupid”

“I never said you were,” you shifted your gaze to the ground, “But I have no idea what you’re talking about”

“Yes you do” A telling silence fell between the two of you for a few minutes before you reached the front of the art building. Minghao stopped walking and put a hand on your shoulder, “Listen it’s not my business, but whatever game you’re playing better have a good reason.” he sighed, “I don’t know if you actually like him or what this bullshit is, but be careful,”

“Careful?”

“You’re a threat to him, Y/N” you must look as confused as you feel because he continues, “I’m good at chess, Wonwoo’s good at chess, Jeonghan is great at chess, but Y/N, you’re phenomenal at chess.”

“So?” you protest, “It’s just a club, this doesn’t mean anything does it?”

“The competition season is coming up,” he offered, “You’ll be asked to be on the team by the faculty supervisor, so will Jeonghan, and hopefully me and Wonwoo, but there’s the individual tournament to worry about.”

“Okay?” you huff, “And?” you try to see the point Minghao is making.

“Just…” he sighs, “I’m worried he’s using you. He’s never lost the collegiate division, Y/N” you nodded, taking in what he was suggesting, “You’ve painted yourself as a threat to him winning that title for his last year. That’s why it matters, that’s what he cares about.”

“Isn’t he your friend?”

“Well, yes,” Minghao blinked at you, “Doesn’t that put me in the exact position to know what he might be capable of?”

“If I’m selected, I’ll try my best, win or lose” You assured him.

“I know you will, just be careful, don’t get distracted” He turns toward the entrance of the art building, “And stop using the supply closet, you have more dignity than that” you feel your face heat up and you turn on your heel toward the teaching building.

If anyone could see the great asshole, Jeonghan Yoon right now Mingyu could die happy. He bounded down the stairs and took in the sight of the man himself with a sewing needle snug between his teeth, instead of the usual cigarette.

“Oh you couldn’t be more keen on her, huh?” Mingyu plopped down on the couch next to the sweater Jeonghan had carefully spread over the cushion between himself and the younger man.

“Shut your fucking trap, Kim,” Jeonghan mumbled around the needle.

“She has you sewing,” Mingyu stifled a laugh.

“As if you have room to talk,” Jeonghan ripped the needle from his mouth, “Cami has you just about as tied up,” Mingyu blinked at him, “Oh come on! You don’t need tutoring, let alone from Wonwoo, you’re not in any of the same classes.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Mingyu attempted to insist but avoiding Jeonghan’s eyes gave him away.

“Obviously you do, Y/N was mad about not being able to play, so you and Cami decided to take matters of my club into your own hands,” he began to thread the needle.

“You could’ve let her play,” Mingyu shrugged watching Jeonghan struggle to find the simplest way to put the thread through the hole.

“She could’ve earned her spot like everyone else” he muttered, “Besides there’s nothing between her and I so there’s no need to compare”

“You made the comparison…” Mingyu pointed out, confused.

“No I didn’t,” the thread made it through the hole in the needle. Mingyu opened and closed his mouth, not sure what his friend was getting at. Jeonghan claiming that there was nothing going on between you and him was almost laughable, but Mingyu knew better than to voice this, as he valued his life. So instead he settled to watch Jeonghan skillfully sew the pearlescent buttons back on to your sweater.

Mingyu also knew better than to ask what happened in the first place. He knew that Jeonghan had his own way about things, and this was more than likely an apology of some kind. If Mingyu Kim was a far stupider man he would point out the fact that Jeonghan never denied that this was your sweater.

You could hear the other members of the chess club before you even saw the door to the meeting room, there was an excited buzz spilling out into the hallway. As you closed in on the room you saw a paper hanging up on the closed door.

“1963 Collegiate Chess Championship: University of Michigan

Yoon, Jeonghan

Xu, Minghao

Jeon, Wonwoo

Y/L/N, Y/F/N

Congratulations and good luck!”

That’s your name, you’re on the team. You thought Minghao was potentially exaggerating when he was predicting the team but he was right on the money. Something akin to anxiety bubbled in your stomach, what if you lose? What if you win?

Walking into the room Minghao smiled at you, Wonwoo gave you a thumbs up, and Jeonghan was simply staring at you He couldn’t deny that he was scared of your placement on the team, when it came for the individual matches you potentially have him beat, he needed to play his best set of games in his career.

You took your usual seat at the table you share with Wonwoo and Minghao. Jeonghan’s eyes bored into your skull as you set up your board. Was Minghao right? Did he do all of this as a distraction? Were you really that big of a threat to him? You knew the answer, but that didn’t stop the seeds of doubt from sewing in your mind.

“Congrats teammate!” You heard the smile in Wonwoo’s voice before you saw it.

“Congratulations, Y/N.” Minghao smiled at you as he took his seat next to Wonwoo, “A force to be reckoned with, as always.”

“Thank you both,” you smiled, “congrats to you as well.” You stole a glance in Jeonghan’s direction, he was still staring. He was quick, he saw your eyes, and knowing he got what he wanted he slowly licked his lips and turned back to the board he was setting up with Mark.

Your blood boiled in your veins, Minghao had to have been right, he’s so cocky even with no wins against you under his belt. He must have been banking on you losing your composure, now and at the competition, so you determined right then that you would not allow it. You began to slam the white pawns into their places, earning you sideways glances from your tablemates.

Wonwoo pulled the black pieces out and tried to match your pace, knowing that your patience has run out, for Jeonghan Yoon related reasons he’s sure. The meeting is spent by you beating the boys in a variety of ways and shooting angry glances at the back of Jeonghan’s head. Jeonghan was stealing his own looks in your own direction under the guise of “keeping an eye on the games”. A few times he catches you looking at him, he attempts to soften your face to no avail.

After watching Wonwoo deliver a final checkmate to Minghao, you shot out of your seat and attempted to flee the room as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, Jeonghan had other plans. He caught your arm and pulled you to face him.

“Congratulations,” he said softly after he made sure everyone was out of the room.

“Likewise,” you bit, “is that all?” Jeonghan blinked at you, clearly confused.

“What’s wrong?” He asked earnestly, “Aren’t you excited?” You couldn’t tell if he was truly confused or if he was acting again.

“I am,” you nodded, “what do you need? Or can I go home?”

“Right,” his lips pressed into a tight line, clearly no longer in the mood for whatever you decided you were mad about. He pulled his messenger bag to his front and pulled out a bunch of fabric. “I fixed this for you,” he held it out in front of him. You took it gingerly and unfolded it so you could look at what it actually was. The sweater he ruined a few weeks ago. A swooping feeling in your stomach took hold, something between tenderness and anger. You chose anger.

“Oh so you’re stealing from me now?” You snapped.

“What?” He hissed, “I fixed it for you!” He pointed at the top two buttons he carefully sewed back on. He looked like a petulant child if you weren’t seething you could laugh.

“You still stole from me!”

“Y/N you’re missing the point on purpose!” He whined at you, “I wanted to fix my mistake!”

“By making another mistake.” You turned and walked out the door and all Jeonghan could do was stare after you. For once he was at a loss for words.

You’re in over your head, you have to be. You have never felt so unprepared for a set of matches in your life. The day was going to be full, only breaking for lunch and then your schedule thinning out God willing that you get to participate until the finals.

You smoothed your hands over the new outfit you scrounged up money to buy for the occassion. The blouse is pretty, but the main focus is the new trousers. You have never worn pants to a big event before, and you’re nervous for the reactions of the men downstairs. Determined to exude confidence even when you were scared out of your mind you took deep breaths and practiced looking tough in the mirror. You could not, however, forget how out of place you felt at this moment.

You check your watch and mutter a curse under your breath. Snatching your notebook off the hotel bed you tossed and turned in the entire night you bounded out the door. Once downstairs you snaked through throngs of people, picking up bits and pieces of conversations about chess strategy.

You spotted Wonwoo’s head above various members of the crowd and made your way to him and where you assumed Minghao, Jeonghan, and your faculty advisor were as well. Your fingers wrapped around Minghao’s arm and he turned to you quickly.

His eyes lit up seeing it was you, “Y/N, hi” he smiled down at you.

“Hi Hao,” you wiggled through the last of the crowd and up next to him, “did I miss anything?” you look around at the people, trying to spot Jeonghan.

“No, we’re just waiting for table assignments,” he pointed toward the window, “he’s over there.” You followed his gesture and saw Jeonghan talking with the faculty advisor. He looked almost ethereal silhouetted against the window, cigarette delicately perched in between his fingers. You watched them talk for several minutes before you saw an official post a list on the wall opposite you. Jeonghan noticed as well, extinguished his cigarette, and excused himself to look at his table assignment.

The competitors funnelled into a line to check where they will be starting the day. You shuffled in behind Minghao, Jeonghan tucked in behind you. He was trying his best to ignore the new outfit and how good you happened to look in it as the line slowly moved. Minghao quickly found his name and moved out of the way for you to scan the document. You felt Jeonghan pressing against you slightly, clearly impatient and looking over your head. His hand hovered awkwardly over your hip, he ached to touch you even just casually.

Locating your name and your table you exited the line, leaving Jeonghan’s hand hanging in the air before he dropped it. He followed after you silently. Several other competitors were whispering about your outfit, he could hear them plainly even if you couldn’t.

The thing about Jeonghan Yoon was that his reputation proceeded him. Every person in this building knew who he was and what he came here to do today. This type of reputation comes with a healthy respect and a bit of fear. So the dagger-like glances he shot these stupid men were not to be questioned. To their knowledge it was because you were his teammate, none of them were aware of the affection he held for you.

You broke away from your team in order to find the first table, your opponent already sitting on white’s side. Holding your hand out for him to shake you could tell he was cocky, he rose to take your hand. His handshake was firm, an obvious attempt to scare you. Only you weren’t scared anymore, you felt like you were exactly where you were supposed to be. The environment was different but the game was the same, and you were one of the best.

The officials signaled for the beginning of the round and you watched as your opponent contemplated his first move. He selected a safe opener; for the first round and knowing nothing about your opponent this was a respectable choice. You tend to play it safe as well, opting for your classic attempt at a queen’s gambit. The match went uneventful for the first several moves, the only sound in the room was several timers clicking at different times. Some players were faster than others, and you were attempting to take your time and not get cocky.

The same could not be said about Jeonghan across the room. He was the epitome of confidence, as he has been every year since he won the first time. Freshly 19 and on top of the world. He always felt like the first win was some unbelievable stroke of luck and then he just continued to win. He realized quickly that he enjoyed winning, almost more than he liked playing the game itself. Maybe that makes him cocky, but he didn’t care. He was making quick work of his first opponent, he was confident and playing defensively. He clicked his timer and watched the man on the other side of the table panic under his gaze.

Jeonghan watched as the man moved his rook across the board. He leaned forward, seeing now that the opponent’s king was unprotected. Jeonghan moved his knight.

“Checkmate.”

Your timer clicked as you gently pressed the button. The man across from you looked perplexed as the board was dominated by your pieces. He figured that this would be an easy win for him, figuring that your university stacked the team so that Jeonghan would have an easier time winning. He was wrong, and everyone else in the room would soon find out if he didn’t find a way to save his own ass and soon. He moved his bishop across to prevent you from queening your pawn on your next turn. His timer clicked. No matter, that bishop was the last piece protecting his king from your rook.

“Checkmate.”

Your name was on everyone’s lips as you moved to your next table. It was almost annoying, all you did was win one game against someone who needed a lot of practice in your opinion. They could start whispering when you were at least in the semifinals. If that first game was any indication on how the rest of the day would go it would be easy to get there. You knew Jeonghan was faring well, because once people were done talking about you they were talking about him.

You took your place on the white side of this board as you were at the table far before your next opponent. Jeonghan watched you from his side of the room, smiling to himself that you won your first match. He slipped a cigarette between his lips and brought his lighter to the end. He dragged on his cigarette as he watched his next opponent take his seat.

Jeonghan lost track of you at some point over the next several hours, as the matches became a bit more difficult he felt the need to focus. While he wanted more than anything to know how the rest of the team was faring, he had to win. This was his last chance, what no one knew was that he was declining the faculty advisor’s offer to continue his career after graduation. He was getting his degree for a reason, and for him the reason was to move on from this part of his life. So finishing with four consecutive collegiate championships under his belt would be great. Only problem here was, unfortunately, you.

You beat Minghao again right before lunch. Things were going incredibly well, much to your surprise. Minghao shook your hand, his smile almost cracking his face. The two of you walked toward the conference room where the complimentary lunch was set up. Jeonghan and Wonwoo were already seated at a table in the corner.

“The sophomore from Clempson” Wonwoo mumbled as Minghao and yourself joined them at the table.

“What about him?” You asked as you reached for the water in the middle of the table.

“Beat me in round four,” Wonwoo sighed, pushing his food around his plate.

“Oh so you’re both out?” You looked between Minghao and Wonwoo, “What about you?” You asked, turning to Jeonghan. Jeonghan shook his head,

“I’m still in,” he turned to Minghao then, “Who got you?” In response, Minghao smirked and pointed a finger at you. Jeonghan’s eyes followed in the direction he was pointing. He tried not to smile and pushed away from the table. You don’t miss the roll of Minghao’s eyes as he watches Jeonghan walk out of the conference room.

“I’ve heard about you,” your first opponent after the lunch break spoke over confidently as he sat down across from you. “A girl at this competition is asinine.”

“Well, I made it just as far as you so far,” you opened your notebook, “and I have heard nothing about you so might as well get this over with.” You brought your eyes up to his, refusing to back down. The man across from you scoffed at your bold reply.

“God are all of you people from U of M like this?” He rolled his eyes, “A bitch and a bastard, you and Jeonghan.” You could punch him, him and his smug face. You bit your tongue to avoid getting yourself in trouble, if you didn’t beat him, Jeonghan certainly would.

The match was quick, he was careless and sloppy, letting the delusion of confidence brought on by sexism carry him to a loss. You thrusted out your hand for him to shake.

“Thanks for the practice,” you smiled, glancing down at your hand. He walked away without taking it. You let your hand drop to your side, trying and failing to hide the fact that you were upset by his words.

“This is my next table,” you heard Jeonghan’s unusually timid voice at your side.

“Oh,” you shuffled to the side, “I’m sorry.”

“What’s wrong?” He blinked at you, “Did you lose?”

“No, obviously not,” you looked toward him.

“Okay,” he chuckled, “then what happened?”

“He called me a bitch, and you a bastard.” You mumbled.

“He called you what?” Jeonghan’s eyes wildly searched the room.

“A bitch, but he also called you a bastard.” You reminded him.

“Yeah, yeah,” he gestured vaguely, “that’s not the point.”

“Drop it, no big deal, I knew this would happen,” you shook your head, “it always does.” With that, Jeonghan watched you walk toward another table. He sighed and sank down into the chair that you just vacated.

Jeonghan was distracted for the rest of his matches, did he make you feel that way? He was sure he did, that first meeting you attended. The difference was that he seemed to light a fire with his comment, whereas this asshole dampened your spirits. Jeonghan could rip his face off, your confidence was one of the best parts of you.

He sighed, moving his bishop across from his opponent’s king.

“Check.”

The man moved his king one space to the left. This allowed Jeonghan to move his rook to trap the king.

“Checkmate.” He muttered, raising from his seat, ignoring the other man’s outstretched hand. He misses being challenged, namely by you, but he won’t admit that to himself just yet. He wandered toward the front of the room, trying to waste time before his next table opened. He caught sight of your concentrated face. He leaned against the wall across from your table and watched the end of your match.

You won, of course you won.

“So your semi finals match against Ms. Y/L/N will start in 20 minutes at the table towards the front.” An official interrupted his thoughts.

“What?” He tore his eyes away from you. “Semi finals is this round?”

“Yes, you and Ms. Y/L/N will begin in about 20 minutes,” he repeated gesturing to the table. Jeonghan didn’t stick around to chat.

“Y/N,” he snaked through people, “Y/N!” He caught your arm, and placed his hands on your shoulders. He was smiling.

“Jeonghan,” you nodded trying to ignore the feeling of electricity coursing through you.

“We’re paired for the semi finals”

“I am aware,” you smirked. Your last match had given you the confidence to let your smug attitude reemerge.

“Dove, please, nothing funny, just a straight up and down match,” he searched your eyes.

“Oh, Jeonghan, this is too important.”

“Thank you, I agree,” he exhaled.

“I need you to lose all on your own, not because I turn you on”

You watched Jeonghan fiddle nervously with his fingers from across the table. He was trying, and failing, to keep cool. On the other hand, you kept eerily calm, you always prided yourself on your ability to seem unaffected by the situation at hand. The breakdown earlier was a mistake you made in front of Jeonghan, one you wouldn’t be making again now.

Once you were given the go ahead you began your opener. Jeonghan felt his stomach drop watching your first several moves, you ditched the queen’s gambit, you weren’t playing safe. He had no idea how to handle this. You watched his fingers falter just slightly, you knew he was freaking out. He might know your game well, but you knew him. He was absolutely out of his depth.

The two of you were well matched, eliminated participants gathered around your table. People who didn’t know your name before today were watching in awe as you made moves that stunned even the man who’s name was on everyone’s lips before he even entered the building that morning.

He knew you could play circles around him, that wasn’t the question anymore, he knew you were better than him. That fact made him furious, and he had to figure out a way to beat you, and quickly because you pressed the button on your timer after claiming his second rook. His fingers twitched and he resisted the urge to make an uncalculated move. He could get a check right now, but he knows it’s flimsy and you could get out of it easily. He settles for capturing your first bishop. You always liked to use your bishop.

You calculated possibilities in your head, and then you saw it. You dragged your queen to the center of the board, leaving Jeonghan no choice.

“Checkmate,” you whispered, you weren’t sure if anyone but him heard you. The moment seemed to freeze, you didn’t dare breathe, just in case Jeonghan shattered in front of you. After what felt like an eternity he dragged his eyes from the queen to your wild eyes.

He rose to his feet and walked out of the room wordlessly. The crowd was silent as you watched him go. Jeonghan Yoon, the reigning champion, was just defeated by a freshman, on his own team. No one knew what to say. You didn’t know what to say, in all honesty. You just sat there, watching the door, willing him to come back, but he never did.

Minghao broke through the crowd and grabbed your shoulders.

“You did it,” he breathed, “Come on.” He pulled you out of your chair. He congratulated you profusely as he held your hand and dragged you back to your room upstairs. “Rest, recuperate, finals begin in a few hours.”

“Make sure he’s okay, Hao,” was all you could muster before closing the door and flopping yourself onto the bed.

“Stop pacing, you're going to wear a rabbit trail into the floor,” Minghao muttered watching you continue your ruminations back and forth.

“What if I lose?”

“Then you lose, that doesn’t take away the fact that you made it this far, beating the reigning champion to do it.” He sighs. You nodded, still not sure if you were okay with coming this far and losing. Minghao watched your opponent approach finally and wrapped you into a hug, “Good luck,” he whispered into your hair before letting you go and taking his place in the crowd next to Wonwoo. Jeonghan was still strikingly missing.

You shook your opponent’s hand and took your seat. The match started quickly, and rather unceremoniously. It almost put your nerves at ease that there was no fanfare, just a straight up and down game just as you had been playing all day.

The match quickly sucked you in, it was as if the rest of the room melted away. The man across from you was good, almost as good as Jeonghan. He was lucky that Jeonghan was paired with you in the semi finals, because you would have a different opponent right now if that weren’t the case. However, this would end up working in your favor, you’ve never lost to Jeonghan, so why would you lose to someone worse?

When you captured both of his knights he knew it was over, he didn’t let it show, but he knew. He knew that you had dissected his game as you were playing him, which was the smartest strategy a player could use. If you were smart enough to watch, learn and adjust as you were playing, you knew exactly what you were doing.

He was almost honored when he heard you squeak,

“Checkmate.” He held out his hand and you took it.

“See you next year, Y/N” he smiled. “Don’t expect it to be an easy rematch.”

“I would never assume anything would be easy,” you smiled back at him, “thanks for the game.” You turned back to the crowd for the first time since the match began. Immediately you zeroed in on someone that wasn’t there when it started. He was smiling widely. The officials prevented you from leaving your table. They spoke to you but none of it registered with you, you couldn’t take your eyes off of Jeonghan.

“Smile,” he mouthed to you. Camera flashes explained what he meant quickly, and you turned to smile at them while the officials were talking with reporters. Eventually, everything settled down and you were able to find Jeonghan leaning against a wall near the window. He once again had a cigarette lazily perched in his fingers.

“You came,” you called to him as you approached. His eyes lit up as he saw you and he reached out to smush the cigarette in a nearby ashtray.

“Of course I did,” he wrapped his arms around you, “I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

“Girls not only can play chess, but they absolutely should, they’re smarter than all of us anyway.” You couldn’t help but laugh, the most freeing feeling after the insane day you had.

“Finally, you see it!”

“Oh shut up, we both know I’m stupid,” you didn’t even have time to agree before he was tilting your head up to give himself access to you. He pressed his lips to yours, a continuation of the apology, showing everyone in the room how proud he was of you and not caring at all who sees anymore.

927 notes · View notes

heavyhitterheaux · 6 days ago

Text

NSFW Alphabet

See Me Through You Series

Synopsis: It's pretty self explanatory lol 🤭

Pairing: Husband!Joe Burrow x Wife!Reader

Requested by: a gorgeous anon 😍

Series Masterlist

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

A (ftercare)- Joe has always been a gentleman in this regard from the first time you two slept together (which was also your first time ever and was very surprised when you told him). He always helps you to the bathroom, but not before turning on the shower first in order for the water to heat up. He usually gets in with you before going to change the sheets on your bed. He then helps put your hair up no matter what style its in, feeds you if you want something before you both settle into a deep sleep.

B (ody part)- Joe's favorite body part of yours is your eyes. As cliche and cheesy as it sounds, he could get lost in them for hours on end. The color reminds him of honey which is no surprise considering what a sweet person you are to everyone around you.

Now your favorite body part of his was his hands. You loved when he inserted his fingers in you of course, but you always found yourself wanting to hold his hand or having him touch you. Joe doesn't know this, but he always brings attention to them and he obviously doesn't mean to. A lot of times that would consist of him playing with his wedding band.

C (um)- You like to be covered in it and Joe likes to see you covered in it. His favorite place to release besides inside of you was your chest and your face. But ever since he got it in your hair that you had just gotten done hours before, he's been put on restriction.

That interaction ended in A LOT of yelling.

He paid for you to get it redone the next day as an apology.

D (irty Secret)- Joe loves to face fuck you and see you whimpering and moaning underneath of him. The two of you don't do it often, but when he does it takes no time for him to release in your mouth.

Besides that, he absolutely loves watching you sleep and this has been a thing ever since the first night you stayed with him in his apartment at LSU. He loves how peaceful you look and when you had been terrorizing him all day, he can finally be at peace too (But he'll never admit it out loud).

E (xperience)- Although Joe wasn't your first boyfriend, he is the first person that you have had sex with and you're definitely glad that you waited for him. He is always so thoughtful and takes his time with you.

Joe on the other hand had a few girlfriends in high school and when he was at OSU, so the experience is there. Because he knows you aren't as experienced as he is, he takes his time and introduces you to different things slowly and not all at once.

F (avorite position)- As simple as it is, missionary is his favorite simply because his eyes are on you the entire time. As mentioned before, he loves the sounds that you make as well as the faces to go along with it.

Bonus if he can get you in front of a mirror to take you from behind. He makes you keep eye contact with him the entire time. The moment you look away, he stops.

A close second is you riding him as he tightly holds onto your hips.

G (oofy)- Joe takes your pleasure as well as your well-being very seriously which is no surprise. But of course, he has a smile on his face just about the whole time because he has your full attention.

Especially when he knows that you're close.

H (air)- There is definitely a happy trail present and it's very neat and trimmed. You on the other hand hate having hair anywhere on your body except your head so to the wax lady you go.

I (ntimacy)- Joe always makes you feel loved and deeply cared for and you have never felt any differently. He takes his time exploring every inch of your body as if it was the first time.

He has always been possessive of you and makes sure to tell you that he knows that no one will ever be able to make you feel as good as he does.

Your eyes are trained to stay on him the entire time.

J (ackoff)- So does he do it? Not a lot since you officially moved to Cincinnati to be with him. However, the long distance took a toll and the two of you put facetime to good use.

Mutual masturbation.

You also remember getting a surprise in the middle of class which was a video of Joe jacking off. It definitely sent you over the edge and your vibrator got put to good use that night over and over again.

K(ink)- Joe loves to tease you every chance he gets which happens to be often. He'll bring you so close to the edge where you feel as if you couldn't take it anymore and immediately pull away, making you complain. But when he felt as if he had teased you enough, when he did bring you to an orgasm, you swore you could see stars.

Choking is another kink, but more so for you than for him. It's not the fact that he doesn't like it, but it's not his favorite. The only reason why he does it was so that you could reach your peak faster.

He does love tying you up and blindfolding you and you simply go along for the ride knowing that it's going to be worth it.

Spitting is something that you absolutely loved and that's all Joe needed to know in order to bring you as much pleasure as possible.

L(ocation)- Favorite place to pleasure you is of course your bedroom, but his car used to be a close second.

He had toned down a lot since having his NFL status and being in public was now usually a no go.

His most recent spot that was now considered a favorite was the balcony of your newest house in Louisiana.

M(otivation)- Seeing you in lingerie that he himself picked out for you was his number one motivation, but something that also turned him on was you doing the most simple everyday things.

You could be doing something as watching a movie and you would casually be sitting there on the couch in one of Joe’s t-shirts and nine times out of ten nothing else and he would literally walk up to you and throw you over his shoulder and you knew what was about to happen.

N(o)- Something that Joe would never do is cause you physical harm on purpose. One time he tied you up a bit too tight and once he took them off, all you could see was red and indentations on your skin where they had been. He beat himself up over it for a while despite you telling him that it was okay and that you were fine, and you knew that he didn't mean for it to happen.

He literally didn't do anything again with you until everything properly healed despite your obvious protests.

O(ral)- Joe could spend all day in between your thighs and it was his favorite place to be and you obviously had no complaints. He loved making you feel good with his tongue and your favorite thing was obviously when he sucked on your clit.

Now when it was time for you to switch roles, Joe absolutely loved when you deep throated him. As many things as he would do for you, you were more than willing to return the favor.

P(ace)- He loves to take his time with you and make sure that you knew that he loved and cared about you through his actions and him making you feel as if you were on cloud nine.

If he could have you underneath him all day he would.

Q(uckie)- Not normally his favorite since he liked to make you cum multiple times and not just once. But this would happen sometimes in the morning when he had just woken up and wanted to feel you near him.

Inside and out.

R(isk)- Joe is always down to experiment, but of course he has to hear what your thoughts about it are first before anything can happen. If it's another way to make you feel good, he'll do it.

S(tamina)- During the season is a little different than when it's the off season and for good reason.

Joe is so focused during the season so you might get two rounds out of him on a good day. But, once the season is over, Joe is attached to you every second of every day and if it was left up to him probably wouldn't let you go until the paint on the walls were peeling.

T(oys)- During your first semester when the two of you started dating, he bought you a vibrator as an early Christmas gift and he kept it at his apartment to use on you whenever he wanted.

However, over Christmas break, you took it home and put it to good use on a facetime call with Joe because you were missing him so much.

He also bought you a rose vibrator for your 19th birthday and that combined with him inside of you at the same time was a pleasure like no other.

U(nfair)- Joe will tease you to no end and as much as it might annoy you, you also knew that when that orgasm hit that it was going to be like a ton of bricks.

And you better not cum unless he tells you too.

V(olume)- You can never get over how Joe's moans sound and it was like music to your ears. You really loved it when you two were in missionary and you would have your legs wrapped around him as his head is buried on your shoulder and you can hear his soft moans directly in your ear.

W(ild Card)- You two definitely had sex in the locker room at LSU after hours and it's your little secret.

While you happened to be wearing his jersey.

X(-ray)- We've seen the dick print and we know that there isn't anything small about him.

He makes sure that you always feel every inch of him.

Y(earning)- It’s not the fact that Joe's sex drive is high, but if he knows that he wants you, there isn't a reason for him to hold back so he is of course going to tell you.

Z(zzz)- When everything is said and done, his usual position when he falls asleep is on top of you as his head lays on your (usually) bare chest.

Clothes are probably unnecessary at this point, so when he wakes up he has easy access to you.

#joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow fanfic #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow x black reader #joe burrow fluff #joe burrow smut #joe burrow blurb #joe shiesty #nfl imagine

371 notes · View notes

missposessive · 1 year ago

Note

WE NEED THE COMFORTT FOR THE BLIND READER FUN YOU CAN’T LEAVE US HANGING LIKE THIS?????? (can’t do angst no comfort 😔)

-> blinded mistakes - happy ending

synopsis -> your husband feels bad for the way he snapped the other day. how does he make it up to you?

a/n -> approximately 28 people have asked for a part 2. this is insane i have so many people to tag (who aren't anons, obviously) BUT THANKS FOR ALL THE LOVE ON MY OTHER ONE OMGGGGG!!!! i love u all sm

warnings -> crying, but that's kinda all lol. this ones mostly just fluff!

w/c -> 951

-> kamisato ayato

it’s been a few days since the argument.

ayato had been given an extension due to his circumstances, and didn’t have to worry about the ruined papers due to the kindness from the city's higher-ups who assigned him such papers in the first place. a lot of them were salvageable, too.

once he finished them, he leaned back, smiling from the stress relief. he got up, grabbed a cup of tea from the kitchen, and realized something.

you weren’t in the main room, waiting for him to leave his office so you two could spend some time together.

he then thought back about the events that took place. his chest immediately fills with regret at the words spoken to you. coincidentally, ayaka walked into the room.

“ayaka, have you seen y/n?” he hurried to his sister, who simply sighed.

“they’ve been in their room. they’ve been beating themselves up about the incident, so now they’re afriad of moving incase they bother you more,” she brushed past him. “good luck making amends. they’re incredibly hurt.”

he nodded, processing the information. he pacewalked to your shared bedroom, where he opened the door to see your sleeping form.

he sat next to you, stroking your hair until you woke up. when you felt a hand on top of your head, you flinched a little bit.

“who’s there?” you said in a soft voice, unwilling to cause more issues by lashing out or showing aggression.

“ayato,” he took his hand off your head. “i’ve come to say i’m sorry.”

you got up and found the headboard, slowly resting yourself up on it. “why all of the sudden? i hope you understand that you really hurt me, ayato. i’ve been too scared to get up these last few days because of the way you made me feel. the only times i’ve gotten up were to go to the restroom, bathe, and eat, but thoma would bring me something here. i still think about the words you said and your gestures.”

he looked down, sighing. he didn’t realize how much of an effect his words and actions had on you, but now that he’s hearing it from you, it seems like two more tons added to his shoulders. “don’t worry about it. it was salvageable, and you hadn’t ruined anything.”

“i wish you told me that when it happened, ayato,” you started to tear up. “i forgive you, but i don’t want to hear that again. it made me feel like shit.”

he nodded, hugging you tight, letting you cry into his shoulder. you felt around his body to realize he was wearing his white and blue suit, the one he usually goes out to fight in.

“i’m not ruining this suit, right…?” you brought your face off his shoulder, but he immediately shoved it back in the same spot, silently telling you the obvious answer.

he was glad he was able to resolve things. he couldn’t imagine a life without you.

-> wriothesley

it’s been about a week since wriothesley has seen you. he figured you went out of the fortress, staying over at a hotel or with a friend, like navia or chlorinde. he pretty much figured it would be chlorinde, considering she hasn’t come down to the fortress or has tried to initiate contact with him since the incident.

he figured he’d try knocking on both doors, starting with navia. once navia told him everything he needed to know; that you were with chlorinde, he rushed over to her place.

“what are you doing here?” she scoffs as she opened the door, leaning against the doorframe. “your wife told me everything. i hope to trust that you didn’t embarrass her in front of the people who work for the palais mermonia, especially monsieur neuvillette himself.”

he shook his head, rubbing at his temples. “just let me see her, would you? i want to apologize.”

she nodded, clearing the doorway, allowing him to rush into the spare bedroom.

you knew he was the one coming towards your room, considering his footsteps were a lot heavier than anyone you’ve ever known. his were tough, threatening.

“wriothesley! w-what are you-” you started, your heart beating a little faster.

“i want to apologize for the things i said. i didn’t have to completely redo all my papers, and neuvillette understood the situation, and i was able to get an extent.”

you shook your head. “so you embarrassed me then, huh? you told them everything? that your stupid blind wife who is not even near good enough for you ruined your work?”

he was speechless. he didn’t know how to respond to that sentence, so he put his hands on your shoulders, asking for silent permission to take you into a hug. once you nodded, he embraced you tightly.

“no, i didn’t tell them that. i told him it was just a spill, and that i was able to save some of the papers. neuvillette is a very understanding man, and this never happens. i never need new copies or need extents, so he was willing to do it this time. nothing about you came up in our conversation,” he swallowed a lump in his throat before going on. “and you’re not stupid. you’re also the perfect choice for me, not good enough my ass. no matter what i have to do to make you see that, just because you have a disability doesn’t mean you’re unworthy.”

you started to cry, letting the tears spill into his chest, creating a damp spot on his tie.

“so you don’t hate me then?” you sniffed.

“no, not at all. i couldn’t bring myself to hate you for something as dumb as that.”

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #genshin x reader fluff #wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #ayato #kamisato #kamisato ayato #ayato kamisato #ayato kamisato x reader #kamisato ayato x reader #ayato x reader #kamisato x reader

1K notes · View notes

fireflysugarpie · 5 months ago

Text

need to get this idea out about Shang Qinghua being an actual god/deity lmao

okay, so we all know that Shen Qingqiu's system has Luo Binghe as its power source and shut down when he was in another dimension right?

and that Shang Qinghua transmigrated before Luo Binghe's parents even met each other, but his system was still active, albeit less so because it was before the plot and he was a side character.

what if Shang Qinghua's system used him as a power source to run not just itself, but the entire world of SVSSS/PIDW?

I mean, the guy was transmigrated as a baby, and he's had a lot of time to butterfly effect things in ways he probably didn't even try. and since the System's main goal seems to be fixing/improving the core story for the audience's entertainment, it potbelly had to nudge a lot of stuff back into place to ensure the core plot was still recognizable.

it would make sense as to why Shang Qinghua's system was a lot more emotionless, infrequent, and stingy with points than Shen Qingqiu's system and why it was more restrictive in certain ways with Shang Qinghua.

it could be a cool concept that as the happy ending was reached and the System stepped back, Shang Qinghua slowly got more control over his world and storyline. he proudly wouldn't even notice at first, with all of the work and information he has to deal with in both realms. it would start off small with him just knowing certain things about the quality of goods a merchant was trying to sell his King, thinking he read it somewhere in his mountain of paperwork. then it could escalate into 'remembering' specific details about the lives and dynamics of side characters' families and relationships that he doesn't actually remember writing down, but obviously he must have of he knows that the 3rd sister of the Hé family hates tanghulu because she chocked on one as a child. And then that would snowball into him actually having prophetic abilities and the power to alter fate.

it would also be pretty interesting if the world itself obviously favored him, like flowers moving to face him if he meditated in the same spot for a few hours, birds and other wildlife generally being friendly or non hostile, the wind carrying his humming to the ears of those who are down in their luck, ancient and extremely rare treasures and artifacts really wanting him as their wielder, other divine or mythical beings that are able to tell something is off about Shang Qinghua but can't tell what because of the System, and other people not noticing him because he really really doesn't want them to.

just, Deity Shang Qinghua that doesn't know that he's a deity lol

#svsss #shang qinghua #blorbo #prompt #god shang qinghua #deity shang qinghua #scum villans self saving system #scum villain #would love to write this idea sometime #so many ways for this to go #he could glitch out when he used his powers #cause he's not supposed to be able to do that with the system #or #the system could give him Admin to stop a virus (Bingge) from corrupting the save file (the world)#shen qingqiu could also get in on the shenanigans #make him an editor that can boost shang qinghua's powers #so many ideas #so little time

385 notes · View notes

minikoko-a · 2 months ago

Text

general relationship headcanons — tim wright x fem!reader pre-mh

during and post mh here!

starting that Tim finds it difficult to have a bond with someone, if with a platonic one he has his challenges, now imagine with a romantic one!

and it's very probably that he either met you through Brian (extra points if you are his sister... i got an idea) or during the recording of Marble Hornets but since this is pre marble hornets, we'll go for the first one.

if you met through Brian...

if you met through Brian, it was a little easier for him to have a conversation with you, because Brian did his best to make sure that the three of you could talk without leaving anyone uncomfortably silent.

the three of you went out constantly, until little by little, you two began to start a conversation without looking for a topic by searching hard in your little heads.

first were more fluid conversations.

then you hang out more often.

and then one of you caught feelings.

most probably was you first.

"she fell first, but he fell harder" trope.

at this point, you were just thinking about when you had developed romantic feelings for Tim. for your other friends, he was a quiet, reserved and sarcastic guy, according to them, he was absolutely not your type! but hey, he has something that makes you feel your heart beat as crazy and honestly, you don't give a fuck what they say lol.

Brian knew it.

he knew it even before you had developed feelings for him.

get ready for the most teasing ever.

but at the end, he would be more than happy to help you figure out if your feelings are reciprocated.

Brian would be the third wheel but not in an awkward way, he would help you two always be together. in small details like, if the three of you are walking, he will be on the other side so that you are both walking side by side.

until one day, Tim asked Brian if you and he had something, obviously, Brian denied it and in the end he collected an important fact.

TIM ALSO LIKES YOU!

you considered just giving up on your desire to tell Tim that you have feelings for him, for fear that the friendship would fracture and hangouts would become awkward and strained. But you didn't expect to have that day that you once dreamed of, to have him in front of you, his jaw somewhat tense pronouncing those words that had you in heaven: "i like you"

although you confessed to each other, it was after a week that he officially asked you to be his partner.

"can i be your boyfriend?" his voice sounded so intimate, so honest, the intention and the feeling were genuine despite his reserved nature.

congratulations! you and Tim are a cute couple <3!

your dates would be simple but cozy, an outing to a restaurant or being in their respective houses/apartments cooking something delicious for both of you.

i feel like it took Tim a while to give you a kiss, you were the one who showed more physical affection but it wasn't something that bothered you.

but don't worry! his mainly love language is quality time and acts of service.

but when he kisses you, oh god! his kisses are slow but so real, could fall into passionate, emotional? kind of that type.

use honey, dear or a nickname of yours.

your relationship with Tim was going pretty well. the attention Tim gave you, the protection and his genuineness in his feelings towards you made you the happiest person in this whole place! he usually gives you some little things, like flowers, a necklace or things that he knew you liked. you didn't want to pressure him into kissing on the lips, sure there were kisses on the temple and cheek but that was it. you knew Tim, you knew that for him there had to be a certain time for him to be comfortable in doing some actions and it doesn't bother you.

but it was a day that you went up one more step.

you were both waiting for Brian to return, he had a project to give to a professor and he had told both of you to go ahead and wait for him at the exit. Tim was next to you, his cigarette smell made you dizzy, he started to get into the habit of not smoking around you, he recognized that the cigarette smell was strong and he doesn't want to hurt you.

you played with your hair somewhat bored, you raised your gaze meeting his, making your gaze soften. his fingers tangled in your hair sending a tickle down your stomach that wasn't bad, a smile began to curve on your lips

"honey, can i..."

his voice sounded somewhat nervous but didn't tremble, you confidently took his cheeks, feeling his freshly cut beard in your hands, bringing both of your faces closer, cutting the distance and sealing it with a soft kiss.

the kiss escalated into one still slowly but with more contact from the two until a fake cough made your lips break the union, looking where it came from it was Brian with a smile.

there was a day where you were waiting for Brian and Tim. you remember that Brian had said something about a project that a friend of his wanted to do and he needed actors, since you had left your classes a little late Tim accompanied him.

a while had passed and you saw their two figures approaching the exit, Tim's gaze was tired and Brian raised his hand a little when he saw you from afar, corresponding to his sign, you did the same.

as Tim set his gaze on you, he smiled softly, seeing you brought him calm and warmth, he didn't want to lose you, he really didn't.

he was so grateful to have you as his partner, so much that it would hurt him that this so genuine, so... warm would end, but that won't happen and not soon, right?

#marble hornets x reader #marble hornets #creepypasta x reader #marble hornets headcanons #marble hornets x you #tim wright x reader #tim wright #masky marble hornets #masky x reader

208 notes · View notes

angelbowerz · 1 year ago

Text

Bowers gang asking you out/you asking them out

Henry

-if you asked him out...it would be a no, he would be inlove with you and still say no

"Hey Henry"

"What"

"I was just wondering if you wanted to go out some time?"

*gives you a blank stare* "...no"

-he'd wanna say yes but if he said yes to a someone asking him out...his ego would be down a notch

-I mean come on...how DARE you ask the MAN out 🙄

-but a few hours later you're getting books out of your locker and here he comes

"Wanna be my girlfriend or something"

"But I just-"

"I'M ASKING NOW! yes or no"

"Okay sure, I'll be your girlfriend"

"After school we're going to the woods to bang, see ya"

*before you could respond he walks away*

-let's face it..Henry doesn't do dates, he finds them too romantic and cheesy

-you'll obviously hang together but he wouldn't class it as 'dates'...just 'hanging time'

-romantic rating 2/10 😭

Belch

-he would be WAY too scared to ask you out.. poor reggie

-buuut..if you asked him out....

"Hey reggie, I was wondering if-"

"YES"

-you just made him the happiest person alive

-but on the actual day of the date he is PANICKING

-he is so nervous...what If you aren't enjoying it? What if something bad happens?

-what's his solution? TAKE EVERYTHING AND PUT IT IN HIS BACKSEAT

-he has blankets...food..drink...everything

-when he drives to pick you up...omg he is a sweetheart

-waits outside with a bouquet of roses

-treats you like the only person in the world

-drives you to a secluded place and stargazes with you

-the perfect date..literally something out of a movie

-drives you home then calls you later tonight and checks in on you

-romantic rating 100/10!!!!

Patrick

-he wouldn't exactly ask you out but...

-he'll stalk you, wait for the right moment and then just walks alongside you all day

-you won't realise it's a date until he mentions that halfway through

"This date is going great right?"

"Wait wha-"

-he'll walk you home...well follow you home expecting you to invite him inside

-if you don't? That's fine, he'll just climb in while you're sleeping

-he'll either walk through the door or climb through your window

-he'll get in the bed with you...to watch you, not to sleep

-when he notices you start slowly waking up..he'll wait until you look at him then he very slowly turns his head...with the most scary smile you have ever seen

-when you scream..he just laughs...so much

-if you ask him out though...oh god...you're in for a night of torture

"Hey Patrick...I was wondering if you wanted to go out sometime"

*does THAT smile* "oh I would love to..."

-it won't be cute...oh no no no

-he'll take you out to the movies, not to watch a romantic movie

-Patrick will do his research to find the most scary horror movie playing right now

-if you think he's taking you there so you'd cuddle into him....ahahaha aren't you delusional

-he'll laugh his head off when he sees you scared, pure happiness

-if you try covering your face, he'll take his hands, place them on your head and will force you to watch that movie

-After it ends..he'll still scare you in ways (making you jump etc)

-if you're in the right state of mind, you wouldn't go near him again...but if you're THAT crazy over him...goodluck

-romantic rating -10/10

Victor

-if you ask him out infront of the gang, he'd say no just because he wants to act 'cool' in front of the guys

-but when he's alone he'll come upto you and say he actually will go out with you and apologises

-probably had no clue where to take you so you two just end up in a park talking all night

-I feel like he would be very awkward at first but after awhile he'll loosen up and be really cool

-when you two get tired of talking, you'll just end up making out lol

-he'll walk you home of course

-romantic rating 6/10

#henry bowers #bowersgang #belch huggins #bowers gang #it #it2017 #patrick hockstetter #it chapter 1 #victor criss #it chapter one #henry bowers x reader #patrick hocksetter x reader #victor criss x reader #belch huggins x reader #bowers gang headcannon #horror #horror headcanons

1K notes · View notes

moon-ttokki-x · 14 days ago

Note

hello. 😊 if it's not a bother, could i please request stray kids celebrating their 9th member’s birthday with her (please leave her age unspecified)? 🥰 no pressure, it's okay if you don't do this! 🤗

hiyoooo this was such a cute request . . . i didn't do a traditional fic bc i know everyone likes to celebrate differently >< i'm def more a lowkey type of person but i know others who like to go all out <3 here you goooo

skz and celebrating their 9th member's birthday

pairing: ot8!skz x 9th member!reader

summary: how skz would celebrate your birthday !

genre: fluff, idol! au, chaotic skz, reader celebrates their birthday, age left unspecified (though they're the youngest of the group), cute innie, big brother skz agenda all the way, mentions of forehead kisses, mentions of eating, mentions of chan's back pain

a/n: happy birthday to anyone who's celebrating lol

skz masterlist

so how skz celebrates your birthday definitely depends on whether you're a big, grand gesture sort of person or not

if you are

then expect half the company to be there at the party

or a big fancy event in one of the halls

lots and lots of singing and dancing, if your birthday happens to fall on a skz concert date, they'll definitely perform 'happy birthday' and sing one of your favourite songs

lots of gifts

i mean lots

they could be the most random things too

we all know how leeknow gifts things

so expect anything from a new nachimbong to a cucumber

skz would def be the type of people to surprise you at the dorms too, with a whole massive spread of food and sweets

felix would def be baking for you too

and there'd be a cake in your favourite colour with your name written on slightly messy icing on the top

when you look closer you notice your name is spelt wrong

jeongin excitedly points out that he wrote your name on the top and you kiss his forehead anyway in thanks

bc he's cute and you would never point out the fact that he spelt his only younger member's name wrong

oh well

you appreciate the gesture anyway

then it's gifts

most of them are good and you love them

but there's a select few that make you laugh

like a matching horse mask from jisung or a singular messed-up paintbrush from hyunjin

you keep them anyway for the memories

(and make a mental note to scare chan with the horse mask later, alongside jisung, who already has one of his own)

shhh !!

then it's opening the cards from each member

again, super cute messages from the members, aside from seungmin's card

he's just written in sparkly blue gel pen 'you survived another year'

'good job'

and that's it

slightly menacing but you thank him for it anyway, watching him grin as you place it down

and then it'd be a night out at the mall or the arcade

or anywhere you want to go

expect to be spoilt by your eight older brothers

they spare no expense to make you happy

whether you choose to take advantage of that or not is up to you

changbin or chan would def let you climb on their back as a once-off

and they'd carry you through the streets while you giggle in their ear

changbin doesn't even feel you

while chan is wishing he'd stretched his back earlier

you all end up falling asleep in a heap as soon as you guys get back to the dorms

no one has bothered to undress either so you all wake up looking like you did the night before

if you're not a grand gesture sort of person

or you just get a little shy on your birthday

skz will def be a little more lowkey

some of the members, especially the maknaes, don't really understand why you don't want to go all out for it

but they try to make you happy anyway

personally i feel like they wouldn't make too much of a fuss in fear of upsetting you

so you'd wake up as per normal and go to the kitchen

and minho has cooked breakfast for you

your fav obviously

and the other members just kind of go about their business and wish you a happy birthday

chan def stops to kiss the crown of your head bc you're like his little sibling and felix does the same

bc he's sweet like that

your day then goes as per normal

maybe with a lot less schedules and practices bc no one wants to do work on their birthday

unless you're super productive i guess

but yeah

and then you get home and walk into the living room

the boys have set up a blanket fort and a mess of cushions and pillows on the lounges

netflix is already loaded on the screen and chan and hyunjin have ordered takeout for everyone

so you all dress down into comfy clothes and pyjamas and sit and eat while watching a movie

your pick ofc

they do bake you a cake, or buy one for you if you're not into that

but they don't sing happy birthday bc they don't want to embarrass you

the maknaes def try and burst into off-tune song

you just let them bc it's funny

'you guys are literally singers how do you massacre 'happy birthday'...'

anyway

you all fall asleep in a heap with frosting-flavoured lips and sticky fingers

when you end up waking up, you decide to go to your bedroom

there's gifts from all the members on the bed and cards too

which makes you tear up

bc they were considerate enough to determine that you might be uncomfortable opening them in front of everyone

you make sure to thank them all the next day

skz loves you so much and will do anything to see you happy <3

a/n: i want cake now

143 notes · View notes

routeless-writer · 1 year ago

Note

Adored your lilia smut

can I request body worship and breeding link with lilia??

ANON YOU ARE SPEAKING MY LANGUAGE RN. Thank you hun! I’m so glad you and so many people liked it, I honestly didn’t expect it to blow up like it did! Happy to write for my favorite old man.

MC pronouns: GN/NB (no pronouns used, implied they/them)

CW: NSFW, breeding kink/breeding talk, pregnancy talk, excessive praise/body worship, Lilia being a brat dom, Lilia also being filthy, mod mezzo ALSO being filthy, oral sex mentions (reader receiving), marking, blood/biting/vampirism mention (it’s Lilia, so), light light LIGHT possessiveness, the slightest degradation (I use slut like once), i say he’s a tits man and then clarify that the tits are gender neutral and just mean your chest.

Listening to: Casket – Ren Zotto

Now Lilia is a dom that’s heavy on praise

He will absolutely degrade you if you ask for it, but his favorite thing is watching you squirm from even the smallest of compliments. He wants his baby bat to know how much he loves them!! Especially when you have just the cutest reactions to it.

Think Gomez Addams if Gomez was a switch leaning dom (because Mr. Addams is like, canonically a sub lol)

He follows you around a lot, even more so when he’s horny or finds himself having…baby fever, shall we say?

He can’t help it! He’s been wanting to raise another kid and all, and the thought of getting to spend a domestic life with you…the thought of you carrying his child…even if you physically can’t, he still finds himself hot and bothered at the idea. Plus, adoption is always something you two could discuss if you were serious about the actual breeding portion of the breeding kink, but wouldn’t be able to have kids/didn’t want to go through pregnancy.

Unless you’re shorter than him, he’ll likely be the perfect height for him to rest on your chest, and even if you are shorter than him, I can see him being quite attached to your upper body, regardless of whether there is boobage there or not and regardless of level of boobage.

What can I say, he’s a tits man (read tits as gender neutral)

So it’s the first thing he goes for with praise

He’ll casually slide a hand up your shirt at any given time to feel you up, resting his head on your shoulder and humming little compliments in your ear about how soft your skin is, how warm you are, how he just wants to bite down on your cute little nipples and–oh, look at that! They’re already hard hehe

“Khehehe, are you that sensitive, darling? Don’t worry, if it works you up that much, I’ll make sure to take care of you. I love the way your body reacts to just the slightest touch…so gorgeous.”

Lils is an oral fiend, too, and it’s one of his favorite ways to worship you. He’d gladly get on his knees for his precious baby bat at the drop of a hat. Holding your hips in place as he nestles between your thighs and tastes your arousal, his eyes rolling back dramatically so he can show you just how sweet you are to him. Don’t move too much, darling. It’s his job to pleasure you!

“So good. So good for me…you taste perfect…such a sweet pet, all the blood rushing here…be careful, I might just devour you.~”

Obviously it’s hard for him to be vocal with his tongue on your clit/your cock down his mouth, so the heavy praise comes when he finally gets to fuck you.

Lilia typically either opts for doggy or mating press. He loves seeing you ass up, face buried into the pillow as he rams into you, but when his breeding kink flares up, that’s when he prefers the second option.

He likes to see your face when he fucks into you and talks about how cute your red cheeks are, how he wants to stuff you full and fill you up. And he talks. He doesn’t know how to shut his mouth unless he’s using it to get you off.

He’s also generally just very playful and giggly during sex. A brat dom, if you will, so expect plenty of teasing on his end about how needy you look with your legs hiked up like that.

“Pretty little thing, all folded over under me. Look at me, let me see your expression. Ah….mmnh, take my fingers in your mouth, just like you take my cock. Tight little bloodpet…you’re so perfect, little one. I want to see it, I want to see you all full and fucked out. That’s nice isn’t it? You’d love to be knocked up, you’d love to be pumped full of my cum. Awe, look at you. Look at you take it. Your hole is so tight around me, so pretty as you bounce on it. That’s it…that’s it, you’re doing so well. So gorgeous…”

He’ll drag your hips closer as he rocks against you, touching you to the pace of his thrusts, and pushing you down further into the bed with the kind of strength you wouldn’t expect someone so small to have.

He kisses and nips at anything he can get his lips on–your neck, your chest, your stomach and thighs. He’s a groper, too, so he’ll watch as his fingers sink into your skin, leaving bruises on your hips and legs.

“You’re going to be so full and sensitive, I’ll watch you get heavy with my child…you’re mine, you’re perfect and you’re mine.”

Usually Lilia’s far more focused on your pleasure than his, but something about the way you’re begging him to empty inside you is sending shockwaves down his spine. It feels like during sessions like this, he loses his well-composed nature altogether. Right before you’re about to cum, tightening up around his aching cock, he’ll lean in and sink his fangs into your neck, pressing a hand to your abdomen to feel how his dick drags along your walls.

That’s enough to do it for you, the aphrodisiac bite making you cum hard around him, and he doesn’t dare pull out as he cums with you, growling into your neck.

Lils is a fae, and faefolk cum a LOT. It’s hot and sticky as he spills inside of you, holding your hips as close to him as he can, fucking into you as you both finish and you shake. It’s enough to drip out without pulling out, much to Lilia’s disappointment. Guess he’ll just have to cum inside you a few more times to make up for it!

Lilia’s the type to make you cockwarm him after breeding sessions. He can’t have his efforts go to waste–you will be knocked up by the end of the night.

“Maybe I should make you keep a toy in overnight. I have to make sure it takes, sweet thing.”

You can expect a quick session right before class the morning after, too. He’s serious! He really wants to raise kids with you, and he’ll do whatever it takes to make that happen.

You two make quite the mess of the bed, cum and blood stains are scattered across the sheets. Lilia will handle the clean up, don’t you worry! He has to make certain that his spent little human rests after such a rough session.

Now that you’ve awakened this kink in him, Lilia’s ready for regular breeding talk during sex. Hope you like being fucked into the mattress and used for hours, cause he’s hellbent on making you his breedslut now.

divider credit 𓆩♡𓆪 navigation 𓆩♡𓆪 masterlist

#request #twst #twisted wonderland #secret stash #lilia sin hours #lilia vanrouge #lilia vanrouge smut #lilia vanrouge x reader #twisted wonderland smut #twisted wonderland x reader #twst smut #twst x reader #twst x yuu #lilia vanrouge x yuu

1K notes · View notes

ccrisntok · 4 months ago

Text

Your Masterminds, Whit Young, and Ace Markey! (mm! whace au)

(Spoilers lol)

what normal fellas ahahahahaha (I have poured my entire soul into these two there is nothing left of me)

A basic summary of their relationship:

Whit has spent like, over a year manipulating Ace into being complacent in his plans. In his own eyes, Ace is a sorta-stupid lacky, who he's constantly love-bombing to keep obedient. Although, he is a bit glad for the company... it was sorta empty when Ace was "dead" and they couldn't really talk. And maybe Ace almost dying from his fake execution was a bit disturbing. But he's sure its nothing! (He fell in love with him like a moron.)

Ace has fully fallen in love with Whit. He's not happy about it, but it happened. As a result, he's basically ruined any semblance of his own morality, just so he doesn't lose Whit, or the affection he knows is mostly performative. He's more than happy to kill his fuck-face classmates, after a... bit of prodding, and honestly, he'd do anything Whit asked at this point, even die. He'll still complain about it, though.

i tried to be as original as humanly possible, but I'm def giving credit to @talkativeanonymous, @acethehorseishere, and @a-blog-for-kat all for inspiring these two in one way or another (esp. a-blog-for-kat lol).

anyway there's the art, here's the promised lore. warning for like a million words. I'm serious. It's 1,400 words. you can stop here i don't blame you.

also sorry for the odd looking bullet points, didn't realize you couldn't have gaps lol!

This au operates on a probably un-canon assumption that I pulled out of my ass. That is that Mai Akasaki is both a student in the class of 27, and that she is the "time loop" student. She is usually a part of the killing game, but she isn't this time, for reasons I'll explain in a sec.

This specific loop, Mai is attempting to dissuade the (usual) mastermind from wanting to start a killing game in the first place. That mastermind is Whit Young.

She goes about this by trying to curb Whit's main reason for his descent into despair, his resounding loneliness, by giving him championship. Charles hasn't softened up to the others in any regard yet. But that wasn't the main reason, unbenouced to Mai.

In this loop, and this loop alone, Mai sets Whit and Ace up to be friends. She hopes they can help each other, since they usually end up more or less alone in their school life.

Surprisingly, it works. They get along decently well, although a codependency starts to develop on Ace's side.

Around this time, Whit takes up an internship at XF Future, which Mai doesn't realize. He innocently wants to explore other job options, "Matchmaking" not really being a stable career forever.

Obviously FX Future isn't a normal Tech Company. Whit starts to change, in a barely noticeable fashion, the longer he works there.

Ace notices Whit's contacts start looking a lot more vibrant after Whit takes a couple weeks off school for a "company trip." He thinks it's... sort of pretty.

(Whit's time at XF Future showed him a side of humanity he didn't realize existed. Insane levels of greed, using the concepts of "ultimates" to guide a stupid pubic where the Government wanted them, generally a dystopia. It feeds into his existing detachment from humanity, until he hits a breaking point, setting his sights on ending the "Ultimates" concept by killing the newest class in the public eye, including himself.)

(XF Future develops a new sort of technology, prosthetic "eyes" that basically turn you into a living remote control, able to connect to an entire building if its connected via a computer system. Security cameras, doors, fucking air conditioning- everything.

(Whit offers himself as the test dummy, and it goes perfectly.)

Anyway, Mai decides to talk to Ace, since she's starting to realize he's becoming a bit... softer after hanging out with Whit so much? And hopes like, for once, he'll actually accept help for his mountain of problems.

He doesn't take this conversation very well.

Mai, with knowledge from dozens of loops, accidentally brings up an extremely traumatic event, simply mentioning the name "Tyler" once.

In a blinding mix of rage and horror at Mai's knowledge of the event, that Ace has literally never even spoken about in this timeline, Ace shoves her away from him.

She falls backwards, and splits her head on a desk, killing her instantly.

Ace, in a horrified frenzy, calls Whit, literally his only friend.

Whit shows up. Ace expects him to freak the fuck out, call the cops, or something like that... But he doesn't.

Whit simply tells him they were going to hide the body together, not even remotely caring about Mai's death.

yeah that's a little fucking weird, and its terrifying, but going to jail is scarier sooo Ace goes along with it!

After this, Whit wraps Ace into uncharacteristically cruel pranks against some of their classmates and others at Hopes Peak, oftentimes resulting in physical injury.

He acts like these are completely normal and funny, while Ace is both freaked out by it, and sort of enjoys enacting pain on people he didn't like.

Along the way, Whit notices Ace starting to fall for him. Horrible news for Ace, since Whit plays into those emotions by becoming much more physically and emotionally affectionate. Which he doesn't enjoy, like, at all... not a bit...

Whit convinces Ace to assist him in greater and greater acts of violence until Whit just straight up kills someone (not a classmate, a stranger.)

Ace is of course tied into everything way too deep to stop now, and after all this... he doesn't really want to. So he stays as Whit's accomplice for months, up until Whit's weirdo behavior arrives at the idea of the killing game. He references the "First Killing Game", which Ace had never heard of.

The idea is a bit intense for Ace, but at that point, he didn't have anything beyond Whit. If it took this to stay with him... He'd do it. Even if in the end, they both were going to die.

So they get to work!

Ace had been taking engineering classes at Hope's Peak in hopes of getting out of jockeying, and he'd helped his family build sheds and shit since he was a kid, so he focused on the construction and executions.

Whit wired the building an all-encompassing computer system he could control, as well as stealing "Mono-TV" from XF Future, a robot he can fully control to be the "host" of the game.

He also steals the "mind wiping" technology from XF Future. It's weirdly easy to steal stuff from this company, hm? It's almost like they aren't protecting it...

Whit also uses another piece of experimental biological technology... on Ace.

A screen connected to his brain, a lottt less invasive than Whit's eye surgery. It doesn't impact Ace mentally, it just gives him the ability to produce visible projections for easy construction, communicate with Whit remotely, (and give Whit a way to always know what Ace's condition.)

The screen is unclipped when the game starts, but the brain implant is still connected to Whit, so he can detect Ace's condition.

After kidnapping the class of 27 and wiping their memories... It all starts. A killing game, streamed live to the entire nation.

Whit and Ace start off as a part of the class, interacting with the others like normal, a pretty decent show. Things go roughly as planned, putting everyone in the positions Whit wanted them. Untilll... chapter 2.

Ace gets his ass jumped, and almost dies prematurely. This is fine, Whit privately makes sure the wounds properly cleaned, but it does fill Whit with an... ominous feeling.

Ace still kills Arei, a part of the plan, and gets "executed", so he can more easily upkeep the executions and such behind the scenes.

After the screen playing the fake execution turns off, Whit checks to make sure Ace didn't get injured in his running around... but can't detect anything.

At all.

Ace's heart wasn't beating.

He actually, seriously, had a fucking heart attack.

(Ace's heart attack was for a combination of reasons. Firstly, his heart was actually in pretty bad condition as a result of his eating disorder, something Whit had figured was "over" by now. It wasn't!)

(Second, in that moment, the idea that maybe, just maybe, Whit could have been double-crossing him came to Ace. What if Whit loaded the guns? What if Ace's use was done, and Whit was finally getting rid of him? It was terrifying because he could die, and terrifying because... It'd make sense. It was all that ever happened to him.)

So he had a heart attackkk lameeeeee

This makes Whit tweak the fuck out, internally. (lol pretend his spooky ass sprite happens AFTER the execution, not before. shh its all made up its all pretend)

After Levi gets taken to the infirmary, Whit drops Charles off at his room as quickly as he can, then fucking BOLTS IT to a hidden passageway in his room to the like... Mastermind area, with the execution chamber.

Whit manages to resuscitate Ace in time, barely. And even after that, he's in pretty bad condition. But he's conscious and mobile.

Whit gets him as comfortable as he can, and after spending the night, he sort of... has to leave. He does some tweaks to Ace's brain screen thing, creating a functional heart monitor that Ace (and he) can watch.

As often as he can, Whit sneaks off to the Mastermind area at night to make sure Ace doesn't fucking die in his sleep. But Ace gets... decently better quickly, and returns to his duties overseeing the killing game.

Whit still visits almost every night to make sure Ace wakes up, which he can't really explain to himself. Ace was... supposed to be disposable anyway. Why would it matter if he died?

Anyway yeah the rest of the game happens. No clue there.

In the end, Whit and Ace come out as masterminds (happy pride).

I have a comic planned for how the end goes, soooo... that's it!

holy fuck! my fingers! hi the whole 2 people who made it down this far... uh... did you like my lore.....? do you want me dead now for having you read 1,400 words of two evil homsexuals...? 😅 love you thank you im sorry.

#drdt spoilers #whit young #ace markey #drdt fanart #drdt #danganronpa despair time #gooddd this took forever #drdt au #mm whace au #whace

314 notes · View notes

hawkinasock · 6 months ago

Note

haiii pls spill abt ur chimera yq ideas... i have my own (https://www.tumblr.com/waterfrontcomplex/758520749229277184/dunmeshi-chapter-37ep-17-spoilers-look?source=share)

i also drew my own idea of him (swallow + abundant deer)

Yes ofc!! I'm so happy that someone else has had this idea too, it has so much potential. I want to see all the chimera Yanqings.

Mine looks like this. I actually didn't have a design drawn out for him initially, so I had to whip something up quickly. That's why it took me so long to answer </3

Originally, he had a more swallow-based design.

I still really like it, but I changed the lore a lot, so I made the new one, the current au, which goes something like this:

(CW for blatant body horror, descriptions of digestion, as well as brief details regarding real world animal death)

Here's my idea. Like most aeons, Lan The Hunt has emanators that carry out their will. One of these emanator's is currently unnamed and without a solid design yet. It has an animalistic appearance in my head. Imagine Feixiao's inner beast, or the Mourning Aix from WuWa. That'll give you the best reference.

It travels the cosmos, tracking down and eliminating the Abundance. it does this with the use of extremely powerful olfactory cells. Even with galaxies separating them, the emanator can detect abominations through smell alone, and when it finds one, it will consume it to ensure it cannot possibly regenerate.

Suffice to say, it's very good at its job, and Yanqing, unfortunately, is not an exception to their heightened senses. Surprisingly to no one, Abundance Yanqing coexists with this au, and he is immediately recognized as an abomination when the emanator is in proximity of the Luofu. Yanqing is unaware of his status as an spawn of Yaoshi, so when the devourer of monsters (working title) visits the Luofu, he never would have expected it to turn its eyes onto him.

To say the Luofu is thrown into chaos when one of Lan's emanator's eats a Liuetenant of The Hunt is an understatement. The emanator insists no mistake has been made and it is justified through Lan's divine will. It actually shifts the blame onto Jing Yuan for assigning an abomination as his Lieutenant in the first place, citing incompetence on his part. Kind of a shitty thing to do after eating the man's son but okay...

Not long after, the emanator starts to... change. It begins experiencing sudden and visible signs of mara: bouts of aggression, delirium, and eventually flora and fungus sprouting from its flesh. It's incorrectly concluded that Yanqing's death was a result of early unset mara in the emanator, and Jing Yuan decides the emanator has to be killed via decapitation, such is their duty as followers of The Hunt.

You can probably guess where this is going.

So, you know how bones are capable of fusing together or into other objects during the healing process? Like that deer that was shot by an arrow and the ribcage actually fused itself with the arrow? That's essentially how chimera Yanqing is born.

As an abomination, Yanqing is capable of postmortem regeneration, and as an abomination that is particularly favored by Yaoshi (in my delusional mind) his regeneration capabilities far exceed that of the average denizen, and one this emanator's digestive system was not capable of overriding.

Much like how that deer bone fused with the arrow, Yanqing's body begins the process of fusing back together after partial consumption, and during that process, he inadvertently fuses with the emanator's body, which triggered those mara symptoms. Additionally, because there had also been remains of other denizens in the emanator's stomach, they were unintentionally included in the revitalization process. This, in the end, gave the chimera's body the claws of a Borisin, the wings of a Wingweaver, and the head of a human (his body structure is also the same as the Houyhnhnm, but that's obviously a coincidence on my part lol).

The flowers and mushrooms don't really serve any other purpose besides looking pretty and emphasizing his connection to the abundance - his power is so palpable that life is literally sprouting through his skin. I just think it's kinda neat.

Anyways, in terms of psychological aftereffects, Yanqing himself is still there. However, his sense of self is muddied and most of his memories suppressed. Because he's at the head, he's in control of his own movements and actions. Usually, he's completely docile, but in the face of people currently trying to kill him, he becomes confused and scared, and fights back in self-defense. He's also experiencing prolonged dysmorphia from his new form, which causes him greater confusion and even pain.

For Jing Yuan? I think everyone would agree he wouldn't want to kill Yanqing. He believes there's still a way to reverse Yanqing's affliction, even if the Ten Lords insist otherwise.

Currently I don't have an detailed outline of what happens next. My current ideas are similar to yours actually, where the disciples take an interest in Yanqing for whatever reason, be it desperation to stop the Luofu from killing him and seeing him as blessed by Yaoshi, what have you. It could honestly go a similar route as Dvalin's manipulation by the hands of the Abyss. If I were to give this au a happy ending, I could incorporate the Viscorpus' ability to shapeshift and have Yanqing hone that ability, allowing him to regain his human form.

That's all I have for what was meant to be a short, detailed summary </3 All these asks always end with me yapping, forgive me. I've had this au cooking in my head for so long now, and I'm glad I have an excuse to spurge about it now.

(p.s. pls make more of your chimera au, I would eat it up)

#the design might change. we'll see #ask #honkai star rail #hsr #yanqing #chimera yanqing au #abundance!yanqing theory #i dont really like how i drew the fungus tbh #i wouldve made it more detailed but that wouldve taken forever #long post #btw the suspicious amount of notes with no users isn't a bot #my friend's account is just scuffed to an abnormal degree </3

178 notes · View notes

yumeka-sxf · 1 year ago

Text

After what seems like a long time, we finally have a full "Forgers bonding" chapter, in a new location as well 😁

Even though the focus of the chapter was the murder mystery (heavily inspired by Detective Conan) and it didn't have a serious tone (just look at the names of the guest characters! 🤣) there were actually quite a lot of Twiyor tidbits scattered throughout, and I'm here to slurp them up!

Firstly is Twilight trying his best to make sure Yor and Anya are safe with their amateur skiing skills.

And as usual, overlooking anything abnormal that Yor does 😅

When they get to the lodge, he considers her feelings about sharing a room.

Even though she says she'll put up with it, he knows it makes her uncomfortable, so he volunteers to sleep on the sofa so she and Anya can have their own beds. Of course, just the thought of sharing a room with Loid is too much for Yor to handle 😅

Twilight starts to wonder when she doesn't come back for a while.

He's obviously happy when she returns - in the Japanese version, he even says おかえり(welcome back/home).

When he sees there's foul play going on, he immediately wants Yor and Anya out of danger (he also trusts that Yor will keep Anya safe).

Despite Yor being the only one without an alibi, he doesn't show any suspicion (even after hearing her "probably" slip up!)

And lastly, when the others start accusing Yor, he defends her. This scene reminded me a lot of the scene way back during the Eden interview where Swan started putting her down and he stuck up for her without any second-guessing. Even though Twilight gave a lot of fake smiles throughout this chapter, the mix of determination and anger in his expression on the below page is not fake - it's a true look of "I will definitely find the culprit (so no one should accuse my wife!)"

I guess my only nitpick about the chapter is that I wanted it to go on longer, mostly for more Forger interactions (and Loid/Yor reactions when sharing the same room, lol). I thought it would last at least another chapter where we'd see exactly how the mystery was solved. But I guess the joke is that the Forgers are the most OP crime solving team without even knowing it, so no culprit can get away from them for too long! Between Loid's intelligence, Anya's mind reading, Bond's visions, and (though it didn't come into play here) Yor's super strength, they'd be able to solve murder mysteries and apprehend criminals before the police could even file a report! 😂

A couple final comments, I like that Twilight decided to trust Anya's intuition in the end, despite not seeming that way at first (and did she seriously bring the detective outfit with her on the trip?😆) And just like with Yor, no questions about this peculiarity with Anya - no wondering why she knew the time and place of the next murder...what's that expression, "love is blind"? 😅

And Yor always ready to protect Anya ❤️(also looks like she's having some alcohol while Loid isn't...guess she needed something to calm her nerves at the thought of sharing a room with him!)

Endo is going to take a break, so next new chapter won't be until February 19th. Have a nice break, Endo-sensei!

#spy family #spy x family #sxf #spyxfamily #loid forger #yor forger #anya forger #twiyor #sxf spoilers #sxf manga #sxf manga spoilers #loid x yor #loidyor

651 notes · View notes

thisgirlnamedblusy · 6 months ago

Note

Hey there! Hope you’re having a wonderful day!

Could I request a classic Grumpy and Sunshine duo? lol

Just picture Donna being her usual grumpy and mean self while reader tries to lighten her mood.

Maybe Donna acts like she doesn’t appreciate the reader being clingy, but deep down, she secretly loves it.

But One day, reader decides to playfully distance themselves to tease Donna, only to realize it makes Donna really upset. Even though Donna is reluctant to admit it, she ends up begging the reader to stop ignoring her.

Thanks a bunch!

Yesss!!!! Thank you for your request!!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!! :)))))

You were the Sun, she was the Moon

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Fluff, maybe a bit of angst

Word count: 8,787

Summary: She's like darkness, you're like light...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))

“Good morning…” you hummed as you turned on the light, the only thing you could do to enlighten that dark bedroom. “Donna, Donna…”

A grumpy growl came from the brunette as she tried to fight your always effusive morning kisses.

“No…” she sighed, turning around in a childish way, moving away from you.

You rolled your eyes but you weren't going to give up so easily. A new day for you was always a reason for joy and… Well, everything for you was a reason to be happy, to adorn your face with an eternal smile.

“No? Come on honey, it's time to get up,” you hummed again, pushing the lady with more effusivity, making her growls more intense. “It's a new day.”

“I see,” Donna hissed, slowly getting up, unable to resist your insistence. “(Y/N)…”

“Mm, you look so pretty when you have that grumpy face,” you joked, stealing a kiss on her lips that caught her by surprise.

The lady looked at you with a frown while you, teasingly pinching her cheek, pulled back the sheets.

“Hey, wait…” she whispered, trying to cover herself again, with a sleepy voice. “Are you in a hurry?”

“Yes, a new day is waiting for us, and we have to take advantage of it,” you said with that same smile, stretching in an exaggerated way.

Lady Beneviento shook her head, with the seriousness not wanting to leave her face. With a tired sigh, she stretched her hand towards the small clock on the bedside table, squinting her sleepy eye.

“Gods, (Y/N), it's seven in the morning,” she said with a tired, defeated tone. “Why?”

“Mm, well, the earlier we get up, the earlier we have breakfast, the earlier you get to work on your dolls and the earlier you finish. That way we can spend more time together, isn't that great?” you said, searching through the closet for the appropriate clothes for that day and throwing the lady's black dress on the bed.

“Great… It's not exactly the word I was thinking of, tesoro…” she whispered, shaking her head and getting up from the bed listlessly.

“Come on, don't be grumpy,” you said in a petulant tone, approaching the lady and hanging on her neck while tilting your head. “You're quite a Lord…” you joked near her lips, kissing them slowly while she sighed again, reluctantly returning the kiss.

“I'm not grumpy,” she said with a tone and expression that obviously agreed with you, as always.

With an amused laugh you winked at her, moving away, something you certainly didn't want to do.

“Hey, you look gorgeous with your hair down, have I ever told you that?” you commented with flushed cheeks, while you slightly adjusted the sheets.

The woman rolled her eye, sighing unpleasantly.

“I think about forty times…” she murmured, finally sketching a brief smile, helping you to place the pillows. “Do we really need to get up?”

“I'm sure Angie is already up,” you said, smoothing the bed, removing even the smallest wrinkle.

“Angie doesn't sleep,” Donna said, looking at you with her always inquisitive and almost distrustful face.

You shrugged, shaking your hands. You never lost your smile.

“Can you imagine what life would be like if we didn't sleep?” you asked, looking at the ceiling so the inventive part of your head would start working. “We could do more things during the day.”

“How funny…” the brunette sighed, looking away from you and grabbing her dress.

“Isn't it?” you said, nodding enthusiastically.

The answer was another sigh accompanied by a gesture of denial. The lady turned around, walking towards the door.

“I'm going to take a shower,” she murmured, an opportunity that you took to grab your clothes and run to her side.

“I'm going with you,” you said with a radiant smile, getting the corners of her mouth to bend slightly upwards with your tender words and your insistence, a sweet smile was gracing her face.

“Va bene…”

Given the place where you lived, that sinister village, surely what was expected of a young girl like you was that bitterness was always present on your face.

Of course, it wasn’t like that.

Unlike most villagers, you had been born with the gift of optimism, of joy. You were always smiling, always seeing the good side of things. You were incapable of getting angry, of feeling sorrow, rage, regret... Your life was a gift and you knew it.

It was as if you had stolen all the happiness from the place, as if the happiness of all its inhabitants had passed to you by a spell or a whim of the Black Gods.

That different, irreverent and cheerful attitude never gave you the opportunity to improve your life. You were never special for being that way.

One day, in the middle of one of your walks, you stumbled across the waterfall mansion, the Beneviento House.

You were happy, cheerful and optimistic, but you weren't stupid. You knew who lived there, what happened to the poor wretches who dared to walk there. Fortunately, your natural gift helped you not to end your life among hallucinations and screams of pain.

The owner of that mansion, the Lord, servant of Mother Miranda, the lady in black, Donna Beneviento, was a dangerous, sick, disturbed woman...

Nothing you had heard about her was good but, luckily, that day she didn't seem to be in a bad mood. Maybe she was or maybe it was due your bright smile and your funny excuses about how you got there, how your hand slipped on the elevator button.

She saw something in you, something that caught her attention. Maybe it was your smile, your joy for life, you weren't sure, but you knew that your hand would slip on that button more times, and that you wanted to do it.

Love was something almost impossible in a place like that, with a woman like her. But, as your philosophy said: impossible is nothing.

Of course, you also decided to give yourself a chance, to give yourself the chance to discover what it was like to really love, to love her. Kisses, caresses, words... Everything led, over time, to your hand to no longer rest on the elevator button and starting to touch her body every night.

Donna was... Strange. She definitely had problems that you tried to mitigate with some success. She was a... Well, dark, gloomy woman.

Her terrible childhood, her years of loneliness had overshadowed the character of a fairly healthy person when it came to socialization.

Always serious, whispering, with a cold look, with a hoarse but soft voice at the same time, that was Donna Beneviento. Not even Angie's different attitude was an excuse for the lady to put a smile on her beautiful face from time to time.

You two just did honor to the symbol of her family: the moon, and the sun.

Maybe you exaggerated. Yes, you saw her smile, yes, she kissed you, she told you that she loved you, that she couldn't live without you, she cried when she thought she was losing you.

She was emotional and affectionate but... She didn't show it very often, as if something inside her stopped that impulse to feel comfortable with another person, as if something in her mind forced her to appear serious so you wouldn't dare to break her heart.

Maybe it wasn't that big of a deal. It could simply be the contrast between your attitude and hers. Maybe Donna wasn't the grumpy and unspoken woman. Maybe the odd one of that curious couple was you.

If so, you would be the odd one, and she would be just a normal person. You didn't want to fool yourself. You knew that wasn't the case at all.

Still, hanging on her neck, sitting on her lap while she made dolls, bathing her skin in kisses, her ears in sweet words... Well, that was your way of being and you didn't think it would change, no matter how much Donna complained about "how clingy you were."

She loved you. She loved you more than life itself. It was just circumstances, or her natural way of being that forced her to behave as if those kisses didn't matter to her, to pretend to look upset when you didn't leave her alone.

You didn't have to think about it too much, since, very often, her protests were accompanied by a tender smile, one that you didn't know if she wanted to hide. Of course, she didn't manage it.

There were times, like the shower that morning, when her mood allowed her certain liberties, like hugging you affectionately under the hot water. Without speaking, but saying it all with her caresses, with her kisses on your hair.

“Mm,” you murmured, moving in place, with a natural smile on your face due to her silent displays of affection, to that tacit promise of always being with you, of you always being with her. “Donna…”

She laughed briefly, and, as if the mere fact of hearing you speak was a kind of spark that reactivated her normal behavior, she moved away from you, leaving the shower after a quick kiss on your shoulder.

“Hey… Come back here,” you protested, pretending to pout, gesturing with your hand. She looked at you and shook her head, covering herself with a towel.

“Weren't you in such a hurry?” she joked with her eyebrow raised, in a petulant tone.

You snorted amused, turning off the shower tap and doing the same, pretending to shiver.

-Yes, well… - you whispered, a little confused by her intelligent response, by that grumpy tone again. She certainly didn't like getting up early. -What would you like for breakfast, honey?

“Mm? Coffee,” she said dryly, combing her hair while looking at herself in the mirror, sighing sadly as she did every time she saw her reflection, the defect in her face that tormented her so much.

You, realizing that detail, approached slowly, hugging her from behind with a tender smile. She moved her hand towards yours, but didn't look away from her reflection, shaking her head.

“You're beautiful, Donna,” you whispered in a sweet voice, looking at your own refection. “Look, I suit you,” you joked.

Her face relaxed and that smile you adored accompanied yours in the mirror. Well, at least that time it had been simple.

“Could you leave me alone for a moment?” the lady asked in a kind but somewhat broken tone. Surely if you saw the tear forming in her eye, you would stay until Donna calmed down, but that overwhelmed her, even if you managed to cheer her up.

“Okay,” you said with a tired sigh, kissing her back and slowly moving away. “I'm going to make you a breakfast that will blow your mind, my love.”

She simply nodded, without looking at you, lowering her face to the sink, breathing deeply to try to calm herself down. As much as it hurt you to see her like that, you couldn't do anything. The problems in her mind weren't fixed with smiles, unfortunately.

Preparing breakfast, setting the table, making sure everything was perfect... That was a routine you loved. You always made great efforts to make everything shine in the same way as your smile, so those dry words from the lady in black would be sweetened with the love you always showed.

A silent breakfast, a few unimportant phrases about the weather, about Angie, about your friends… It was always you who spoke. Donna always just listened to you, or pretended to. She wasn't very good at pretending tough.

Your joy always remained strong, your desire to live, to be happy, was not intimidated by the grumpy behavior of the lady, by her always cold and stoic expression.

No, nothing, nor anyone could ever change you but… Could she change? Sometimes you wished it with all your soul, sometimes you dreamed of the lady in black telling you that she really loved how you were, that she love an attitude so different from hers.

But that day never came, that full smile never reached your gaze. Sometimes you seemed nothing but a nuisance to her, but it didn't make sense for that to be the case. Why would someone like her, a powerful Lord, put up with someone she couldn't stand? Why live with a nuisance?

There were two possible answers: It could be loneliness, it could be that fear of the woman in black of not being left alone again, settling for the first stupid woman who didn't run away when she saw her face without the veil.

Maybe she just wanted company, even if she couldn't stand you.

Another option, the one you told yourself was the right one, would be that Donna truly loved you, that she cared for you, that your senseless encouragement lifted her spirit, that your joy made her see things in color, and not with a black and white filter.

Once again, it was impossible to know, to read the doll maker's mind and finally find that longed-for answer so your mind, with the passage of time, wouldn't start making painful assumptions.

“I got you!” you said triumphantly, finding the Angie doll under a sofa.

The afternoons could be many ways, but normally, because your power of persuasion to take a walk with Donna was at its weakest point, they were fun times with the living doll.

Okay, maybe not even Angie could match your level of cheerfulness and optimism, but at least she wasn't the grumpy mess her owner was. Angie was irreverent, shameless, not afraid to speak her mind at any given moment. You wondered if she was real part of Donna’s mind, or a lost virtue that the lady could never get back.

“You're fast, silly,” Angie whispered, crawling comically under the couch. “I think this is a tie.”

“Tie?” you asked, hands on hips. “As far as I know I've found you seven times this week.”

“Oh, yeah, but... Do you remember when you got here?” the doll joked, pointing at you. “I went two months without losing.”

“That was cheating, I didn't know the house that well,” you said, pushing the puppet playfully, making her grunt in a way suspiciously similar to her owner, something that made you look at the clock and sigh. “Oh, it's tea time.”

“What tea?” Angie asked, tilting her head.

“Donna's tea,” you said, with an anxious smile, walking towards the elevator.

“Hey, leave Donna alone! You know she doesn't like you disturbing her when she's making my friends,” the doll said, following you down the hall.

You nodded amused, rolling your eyes.

“Yes, but she always finishes the tea I make for her,” you said in your defense, moving the elevator bars.

“I guess that way she can stop hearing your voice…” the doll mocked, making you frown, but, when you wanted to protest, the elevator was already going down to the basement.

Ignoring the doll's potentially-hurtful words, you prepared the tea while humming, wanting, as always, to give the brunette an awkward cuddle session. You wondered how she would react that day…

“Donna,” you sang, entering the workshop without knocking on the door, startling the lady, who groaned like every time you woke her up at early hours.

“Tesoro, I've told you a thousand times that you must…” she whispered in a hoarse voice, with labored breathing.

“Yes… I must knock on the door, I know,” you said, dragging out the words and hugging your lady from behind, leaving the tea on the table and leaning on her shoulder. “Mm, I love when you're focused…”

“(Y/N), is there any moment of my life that you don't like?” she asked with a serious face, not looking at you, working on a sinister porcelain doll.

“Let me think… No,” you said amused, kissing her cheek repeatedly, passing by her nose, briefly by her mouth…

At first the lady didn't protest against that rain of kisses but, after a moment in which it seemed that you didn't want to stop, she coughed, moving her face away from your lips.

“Ugh, lasciami…” she whispered annoyed, gesturing with her hand as if she were pushing away an insect that was flying around her.

You laughed, shaking your head and sighing, planting a kiss on her cheek, well, one that contained several more, making the sound in an exaggerated way, preventing her from running away from you by holding her by the shoulders.

“Mmmm, gorgeous…” you said, with a last loud kiss, an unpleasantly cheesy one.

Donna growled, passing a hand over her wet cheek and lips and shaking her head.

“Why are you that clingy?” she protested, her gaze fixed on the porcelain, with an annoyed expression.

You, ignoring her complaints as always, shrugged, sighing and settling yourself on her lap, so she groaned again, leaving the brush in a glass, knowing that, otherwise, her work would be ruined because of you.

“I made you some tea,” you said amused, moving one of your legs, swinging it as you made yourself comfortable in that position grabbing the lady by her shoulders to support yourself.

“I see that,” she whispered, taking the cup. “I didn't ask you for it.”

“No, but you never do it,” you said amused, turning to play with her black hair, making her protest again. “After all, you drink it, so I guess you want it.”

Donna shook her head, letting out the air slowly, surrendering to your excessive affection.

“Okay, whatever,” she said nervously, with a darker look.

“Have you seen how perfectly I've made that slice of lemon?” you said amused, pointing to the inside of the cup. Donna looked at the same place with a frown and then at you.

“What's wrong with the lemon?” she asked impatiently, moving due to the apparent discomfort of your body on her lap. “Get down…”

“No,” you said, ignoring that abrupt request. “I mean it's a perfect circumference, don't you think?” you joked, with an expectant look.

“(Y/N), don't you have anything better to do than distract me?” Donna asked, fed up with your comments, gently pushing you off her lap.

You snorted and your smile relaxed for the first time in months

“I, I really don't…” you sighed with a slightly different tone, which led the lady in black, now with the brush in her hand again, to look at you slowly.

“Weren't you playing with Angie?” she said, dipping the brush in paint and picking up the porcelain head.

For a moment you thought that your boredom would be a concern for her, but it wasn't. Maybe that's why you felt less like smiling.

“Yes, but…” you murmured, scratching the back of your neck.

“Why don't you go for a walk with your friends?” she suggested, without looking at you again, giving more importance to that doll than to you.

“Mm, yes, perhaps, perhaps I will,” you said, her smile returning little by little. “I'm sorry if I disturbed you, Donna.”

With a soft kiss on her lips, one she accepted along with a brief caress, you turned around, walking towards the workshop door.

“(Y/N),” the lady interrupted, making you turn around slowly. She looked at you and sighed, with a tender and tired smile. “Thank you for the tea.”

“You're welcome, my love,” you said with an affectionate tone, smiling back at her as you closed the doors.

Well, maybe some time with your village friends would clear your mind about those thoughts that were beginning to harass you, about those questions your subconscious was asking you, ones you didn't want to answer.

“Are you sick or something?” your best friend asked as you sat by the lake. You looked at her with a frown.

“Why do you say so?” you wanted to know, swinging your legs over a rock.

“You're not smiling,” she joked, giving you nudge. “Is everything okay?”

“Oh, yes, yes, of course,” you said nodding, looking into the distance. Maybe she could help you with those strange thoughts… “Well…”

The girl looked at you, blinking in confusion.

“What's wrong, (Y/N)?” she asked kindly, with a slightly shaky voice. “Lady Beneviento isn't treating you well? Has she hurt you?” she whispered, looking around.

You groaned at that insinuation, at having everyone worried about your well-being when it wasn't necessary.

“What? Of course she hasn’t. Donna would never hurt me, Olivia,” you said with a slightly brusque tone.

“Oh, okay, okay, I'm just asking,” your friend excused herself, making a reassuring gesture with her hands. “But something's worrying you…”

“Yes, well, it's just that…” you said, with a slightly shy tone, not knowing if you should really tell her your worries or if they were worries at all. “We are, we are so different…”

“Of course you are, she's a Lord,” Olivia said, with an amused laugh. “What a novelty.”

“No, I don't mean that, it's just…” you said, nervous, also looking everywhere. “Donna is always… She's always complaining about everything, it seems that my presence is annoying to her.”

“I don't think it annoys her, (Y/N), I, I'm afraid that if it did, you wouldn't… You wouldn't be here,” the girl said, with a slightly scared tone.

“Okay, you're not helping me,” you protested, crossing your arms.

“You'll have to be a bit more specific, I don't know that woman and the little I know about her... It's not very... Flattering, let's say.”

“You're wrong, Donna is such a sweetheart, I'm sick of saying it,” you said in a serious, sincere tone. “Her problem is that... She, she doesn't seem to really like me. She always says that I'm annoying her, that I'm very clingy...”

“Oh...” your friend sighed, with a confused look.

“And I don't know if she really thinks that way or... If on the contrary, maybe, maybe she's just like that, you know? I don't know. I'm starting to think that she just loves me so she won't be alone.”

“Mm,” Olivia murmured thoughtfully. “I guess the best you can do is to clear up your doubts.”

“Oh, what a brilliant deduction,” you said with irony, spreading your arms in a comical way. “Yeah, thanks, but I don't know how.”

“Well… Maybe if you stop being so… You, you can check it out,” she murmured, making you turn your head quickly.

“What do you mean?”

“You know what they say: you don't realize what you have, until it's gone,” the young woman commented, looking at the sky. You nodded for her to continue. “Try leaving your affectionate and clingy side behind for a while, so you can see how she reacts.”

“Interesting,” you murmured, narrowing your eyes. “You mean to ignore Donna?”

“Yes, well… I'm sure that if she really loves you, she'll end up asking you to go back to the way you were, and if not… Well… If not…”

“No, don't say it, Donna loves me, I'm sure,” you said nervously, thinking about the risk of that test, the risk of it not going well.

“Then she'll have to prove it to you,” your friend said, with a haughty tone.

At least that conversation was useful to you.

At first that idea seemed silly, it went against your way of being, against the love you felt for the lady in black. Ignoring her could be dangerous, but it was true that you had never tried it either. You weren't capable, you just weren't capable.

As you walked back to the mansion, the idea was spinning around in your head, sounding better and better, even considering it funny. You trusted in the love that Donna said she felt for you but… The truth is, you were very anxious to check her reaction.

“Mm, Donna…” you purred in her ear as she read in bed, kissing her lips, her cheek, her neck…

She frowned, moving to get you to move away.

“I'm reading, tesoro, leave me alone,” she whispered in a voice that wasn't harsh, but somewhat stern.

“Well, you'll read tomorrow,” you whispered, insisting on your desire for nightly cuddles. Donna shook her head, letting you kiss her on the lips before placing a hand on your chest to stop you.

“(Y/N), I'm tired,” she growled, looking at you briefly and returning to her book.

You sighed, finally pulling away and shaking your head. Normally you would insist a little more, just enough to bring down the brunette's defenses and enjoy a night of passion but… The words, the advice of your friend echoed in your mind. It would be a good time to put your plan into action.

“Okay, good night,” you said quickly, covering yourself with the sheets, turning your back to her.

You could notice how the brunette put down her book. She was probably looking at you with a frown. You didn't know, but you hoped she was.

“Are you okay?” Donna asked, putting a hand on your shoulder.

You, with your eyes closed and a mischievous smile, nodded.

“Yes, I'm fine,” you said with your best dry and cold voice. “I just realized that I'm sleepy.”

“Oh, um, well, in that case…” she said, apparently confused, leaving the book on the bedside table and turning off the light. “We'd better sleep.”

“Yes,” you answered with the same coldness.

You noticed how the lady moved suddenly, surely alerted by that tone, but she didn't say anything, she just sighed, lying down next to you.

“Buonanotte”

Well, apparently your behavior unsettled the doll maker a little, but that strangeness and confusion weren't enough, besides, you didn't know if it was for better or worse, but... The truth is that it had been terribly funny for you.

The next day started like any other, or almost.

When you caressed the hand that grabbed your body from behind, you had to make an effort not to turn around and devour the lady with kisses like every morning, so as not to provoke those grunts of protest that you found adorable.

Biting your lip out of anger at not being able to act like always, you took her soft hand, slowly moving it away from your belly as you subtly got out of bed. Donna didn't wake up, so your plan could continue its course.

You showered, dressed, and walked to the kitchen. There was no sign of the brunette, she hadn't woken up.

Time passed and you whistled quietly in the kitchen as you ground the coffee beans. Yes, ignoring her was one thing, but neglecting her was something quite different, and after all, you loved making her breakfast, the only meal she allowed you to make.

“(Y/N)…” a hoarse voice interrupted your cheerful whistles. A comical figure, still dressed in her nightgown appeared at the door, Donna.

The lady, still sleepy, rubbed her eye, looking at you in confusion. You smiled wickedly to yourself as she yawned loudly, smiling tenderly, as usual.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” you said in a soft voice as she approached with a frown, fixing her messy hair from just waking up.

You quickly gave her a kiss on the lips, one that she didn't return. She seemed confused, good…

“You… You didn't wake me up,” the sleepy lady said with a voice broken by tiredness, trying to focus her vision on you.

“Of course I didn’t,” you said casually. “You told me you didn't like it so…”

“I don't like it,” she said quickly, frowning more. “I just, I just thought it was… Strange.”

“I didn't want to wake you up you, my love,” you said affectionately, running a hand over her face. “Look, I made some orange juice, do you fancy it?”

“Mm, yes, yes, I…” Donna stammered, blinking several times, as if something didn't fit, as if she suspected that your behavior had a reason. You hoped it wasn't like that. “Oh, you, you took a shower…”

You looked at yourself and nodded amused, putting the ground coffee in the old coffee maker and turning on the stove.

“Yeah, I take showers every day, honey,” you joked, shaking your head, pretending she was talking nonsense.

“You didn't wait for me, I thought you liked showering with me,” she commented, putting a hand on your shoulder, watching you toast some slices of bread.

“I couldn't wait for you to get up, Donna,” you said with a soft tone, but a mischievous look. “Did you want me to take a shower with you, my love?” you said with a fake pout, with a condescending voice that she, luckily, didn't know how to interpret. “I thought you liked to do it alone.”

“I like doing it alone,” she said, frowning again, stepping back proudly. “I just found it strange.”

“Mm,” you murmured with disinterest, looking away from her. “Go to take a shower, my love, I'll set the table.”

Donna looked at you strangely again, but nodded slowly, scratching her head and walking towards the door, giving you one last disoriented look.

“Um… Okay…” she whispered, finally disappearing from your presence.

You sighed in relief. Yes, it was funny to see Lady Beneviento confused, but your inner self screamed for you to throw yourself into her arms to don’t stop kissing her like every morning, telling her how much you loved her.

You would have to be strong if you wanted the strategy to work.

Donna went up to the dining room, where you were already waiting for her, having breakfast. Her black dress was already on her body and her silky hair was up in its usual updo, but her gaze was a little more serious than usual.

Without saying a word, well, as always, she sat down in front of you, moving her chair closer to the table and lifting her gaze briefly, as if she were analyzing yours.

You smiled innocently, taking a sip of your coffee.

Time passed slowly, and the lady didn't move, she didn't do anything, she didn't pour herself coffee, she didn't spread toast in oil, she simply looked at you nervously, you knew perfectly well why.

“Are you okay, my love? Aren't you hungry?” you asked, pretending a worried face.

She blinked, snapping out of her thoughts and shaking her head.

“Yes, I... I was, I was waiting,” she stammered, without taking her eye off you.

“Waiting?” you asked amused, pouring some sugar on you cup. “What are you waiting for, darling?”

“Um, well… Aren’t..? Aren't you going to do the usual?” she asked in a rougher tone, with an unpleasant gesture, crossing her arms.

“Mm? What do you mean?” you asked, holding back your laughter, keeping your composure.

She groaned, looking away again.

“You know, that nonsense of ‘preparing my morning coffee with love and lots of kisses so I can have a good day’,” Donna said in a mocking, almost unpleasant tone.

You opened your eyes wide, pretending to realize it and shook your head soon after.

“Oh, but that's just cheesy to you, isn't it?” you asked in a calm tone, picking up another piece of toast. “I thought you hated it.”

“I, I…” the doll maker stammered, changing her confused face to a proud one, which indicated to you that your strategy was paying off from the first moment. “I hate it, tesoro.”

“Really? I can do it for you if you want,” you joked, taking her cup of coffee, which she suddenly snatched from you, shaking her head effusively.

“No, no, I've already told you that I hate it,” she said without looking at you, serving herself the coffee.

“Sure, sure,” you sighed, biting your lip at her nervous attitude. “Do you want some juice?”

You didn't know if she was really disoriented, if she really missed your sentimentality, but it was still too early to tell. Deciphering her behavior was always a task worthy of research.

The rest of the day didn't give you many more opportunities to test her patience and your feelings, until the afternoon came.

The afternoon was the moment when you always went down to the workshop with a cup of tea in your hand, ready to cuddle your girlfriend as much as you could, to hug her, sit on her lap and caress and kiss her while she worked.

It was tempting, Donna was tempting. Her stoic pose, her shy caresses, her annoyed sighs that betrayed a certain comfort… Of course, that was the hardest part for you. Not even a day had passed and you were already crazy for her kisses, for showing her your love. Again, you would have to be stronger.

“Ha, you lost!” Angie mocked, pointing at you while you clumsily hid behind a piece of furniture.

You didn't really feel like playing hide and seek that day, but if you didn't, you knew Angie would destroy your ears with her protests.

“You found me, again,” you said, dusting yourself off and looking at the clock, sighing. It was time, time for your way to the basement, for a well-deserved ration of annoying kisses and hugs to the brunette.

That day you wouldn't go down.

“Loser, silly loser…” Angie mocked, humming childishly and walking towards the sofa. “I plan to beat you every time.”

“Really?” you said amused, arching an eyebrow. “We'll have to see about that…” you whispered with a challenging look. “Come on, it's your turn.”

“What?” the doll asked confused, also looking at the clock. “Do you want to keep playing?”

“Yeah, sure, why not?” you said nodding, with a fake smile.

Angie approached you with a slow step, looking you up and down.

“Aren't you going to go see my Donna?” she asked with a different tone, as if the puppet herself was confused.

“No,” you said, letting yourself fall on the sofa, picking up a book that was on the table. “I don't want to disturb her. I know she doesn't like it.”

“Um… Of course, she doesn't like it…” Angie murmured, making you frown. “You're very strange, silly, silly…”

“No, I’m not. I just want to be nice for once and let her work in peace, I know I'm very annoying,” you murmured, checking to your dismay that the book wasn't in your language. Great, you couldn't be distracted by it.

“Yes, you're a sticky pain, but…” Angie said, with a nervous voice and pose, lowering the book so she could look at your face.

You looked back at her, studying her gestures, and her words.

“But?” you asked curiously, with a more serious tone.

“Oh, nothing, nothing,” the doll said, getting off the couch and waving her hand, moving away from you.

“Okay…” you murmured with an amused smile. “Come, help me find a book I can read,” you said, clapping your hands and getting up.

So you had a fun time, reading that adventure book with Angie. You had almost forgotten that in the basement there was someone who hadn't had her tea…

A sudden sound alerted you. The elevator door suddenly opened and nervous heels quickly approached where you were. Donna appeared in the living room, breathing heavily, looking for something everywhere. That nervousness ended when her eye made contact with yours.

“Cazzo…” she hissed, sighing in relief. “(Y/N)…”

“Oh, hi, honey, are you okay?” you said, putting the book aside and walking towards the lady in black, who was rubbing her eye while shaking her head. “What's wrong, my love? Is it a crisis?”

“No, no,” she denied, sighing again and looking at you strangely. “You’ve scared me.”

“Have I scared you?” you asked amused, with your hands on your hips. “I haven't done anything, Donna.”

“Yes, that's it, I…” Donna said, interrupting your performance. “You, you haven't gone down to the workshop,” she said in a small voice, looking at you out of the corner of her eye.

“I didn't want to disturb you,” you said simply, with a tender smile.

“Oh, okay, I…” the lady in black stammered, with an exaggerated look of disinterest, nodding slowly.

“What's wrong, honey? Did you miss me?” you said with an amused look, pouting. Donna stood proudly, with a serious expression, shaking her head.

“No, of course I didn’t. It's been a while since I was this calm,” she said looking at her nails, her worried expression changing radically.

“I'm glad to know it,” you said, pretending that those words hadn't cruelly pierced your heart.

Hold on, (Y/N), hold on…

“Mm, I just found it strange… You didn't come to disturb me, I thought maybe… Maybe…” The pride in her words diminished little by little, closing her eye before finishing. “I thought you had left.”

“Where? You know that if I go somewhere I have the courtesy to let you know, Donna,” you said with a calm, soft and tender tone.

Again, you had to suppress the desire of your hands to cup her face, to caress her soft skin. It was much harder than you thought.

“Yes, that's why I thought, that, that maybe…” she stammered, darkening her gaze, avoiding yours. “Nevermind, it's, it's nonsense.”

“Okay,” you said, calmly. “Don't worry, my love, I'm not going anywhere, I was just reading.”

“What…? What were you reading?” the lady asked, with a strange expression, playing with her hands, as if she was terribly nervous about something.

You ignored those gestures, ones that only confirmed your small victories, and walked towards the sofa.

“Mm, this one,” you said, showing her the book. “It's quite entertaining.”

“I see,” Donna said with a slightly uncomfortable smile, coming a little closer, slowly, as if something had scared her. “Maybe, maybe you'd like me to… Read with you.”

“Do you want to read with me?” you asked with genuine confusion.

You certainly didn't expect her reaction to be that fast. It's true that you often read together, but Donna always ended up getting tired of your kisses and your nice words. It was very rare that she asked you to do it, you always did it first.

“Yes, well... It's been a long time since we did it,” the lady whispered with a smile that seemed almost pleading to you.

You shrugged, appealing to your strength. No, you couldn't fall yet.

“But Donna... You always complained that you couldn't read a paragraph with me by your side,” you said calmly.

The lady in black opened her mouth to say something, but she stopped at the last moment, nodding defeated.

“Besides, I'm sure you've read this book a thousand times. You're just going to get bored,” you commented, looking away and sighing listlessly, sitting back down on the couch.

“Certo, you’re, you’re right…” she murmured, sighing tiredly as you pretended to continue reading, watching the lady from the corner of your eye.

Donna shifted, sitting curiously beside you, as if she didn’t know what to do, what to say, or if she even wanted to do it either.

There was a tense moment of silence until, out of surprise, a soft hand placed your hair behind your ear, her hand.

“I got really scared,” Donna whispered, moving closer, taking your hand. You frowned, glancing at her briefly. “I thought you were gone, that you had abandoned me.”

“What nonsense, why would I want to leave?” you asked distractedly, without looking at her, something very complicated, but that you managed with less and less effort.

“I don't know but...” she whispered, taking the book away from your hands, so you pretended to grunt in protest.

“Donna, I was reading,” you said, subtly imitating her protests. You hoped it was subtle enough.

“I know, but... I... I want to love you so much...” she purred seductively, starting to kiss your neck, something that made you repress a pleasurable gasp. Of course, that attitude wasn’t very common in the doll maker. “…To thank you for being here, with me...”

“Mmm Donna,” you said, interrupting her increasingly ardent kisses just as she did, with a hand on her chest. “No, okay? I don't feel like it now.”

“Why? You always feel like it,” she protested, not in a cold tone, but in a melancholic, sad one. “Tesoro… Please… I want to make love to you…”

“I don’t feel like it, Donna, I’m tired,” you said, pleased by that sudden submission, amused, perhaps excessively, by the quick effect your strategy had.

Yes, seeing Donna begging for your company was pleasurable. It was too soon to give up, even though you were wishing for it.

“Ugh, get out…” you said abruptly, pushing the lady away, leaving her completely disoriented. “Don’t bother me, Donna.”

“What? Don’t bother you?” she asked, standing up abruptly, shaking her head, mouth agape. “Qual è il tuo problema?!”

“Excuse me? Donna, the language…” you scoffed, hiding your evil smile behind the book again. “Come on, don't be mad.”

“Don't be mad?” she asked, with a nervous laugh. “This is unbelievable…”

“Come on, what's wrong with you? Didn't you say you were sick of me being clingy?” you asked, pretending to be focused on the words that, obviously, you weren't reading.

“Yes, and I am, you're a pain, (Y/N),” Donna said with a hurtful tone that your heart quickly dodged, you knew she was just nervous.

“So what's wrong with you? Shouldn't you be relieved because I left you alone?” you asked with the same gloomy tone.

The lady laughed nervously again, running a hand through her hair, but relaxing immediately.

“Yes, I'm very happy to be able to breathe,” she said with a mocking tone, with a dark look.

“I see that,” you scoffed. “Shh, be quiet, I want to read.”

“Arrgh!” Donna growled, clenching her fists tightly on either side of her hips. “Have a good time!” she shrieked, walking quickly towards the hallway again.

“You too, my love!” you shouted in a tone devoid of annoyance, ignoring her shouts. “And don't be mad, you look very ugly when you are!”

“Vaffanculo!” she shrieked from the hallway with an angry growl.

“What does that mean?” you asked in a whisper to Angie, who looked at the scene in astonishment as if she were watching a tennis match.

“Do you really want to know?” the doll asked, in her usual mocking tone.

You laughed amused, turning a page and shaking your head.

“Mm, I don't think so,” you whispered, arching your eyebrows.

“Hey, silly girl, start talking,” Angie said, putting your book down again and climbing onto the couch.

“Mm?” you murmured, frowning.

“I know you're up to something, and I don't like it at all,” she hissed, pointing her finger at you, staring directly into your soul.

“Me? I'm not up to anything,” you said passively, looking at the hallway where Donna had gone, wondering if she had really gotten that angry and above all, why.

“Liar...” the puppet hissed. “Be very careful, silly girl, Angie is always watching.”

You smiled with an innocent look, returning to that book, or rather, to your thoughts.

Your strategy had been a complete success. The lady in black had been completely disoriented and confused by your change of attitude, and that was what you wanted. Her irrational rage only told you that you didn't have to worry, she loved you, but your incipient insecurities made you continue with that behavior for a few more days.

The lack of affection, hugs, caresses... Took its toll on you, but, determined to prove to yourself that she liked the clingy way you were, you wanted to pull the rope a bit further.

There were no romantic breakfasts or visits to the workshop, there were no cuddles, affection, kisses... There was nothing. The brunette's attitude was distant, as always, but with a touch of annoyance, anger.

Bearing that cold look was increasingly difficult. Not giving in to your impulses to go down and cuddle Donna was already unbearable. Reading no longer served as a distraction so, during one of those afternoons, you decided to leave the house for a walk in the woods.

While you walked, you meditated on your actions, you thought about Donna, about whether she was really suffering as much as she seemed.

You thought you were just being cruel, that you were torturing her, but when you thought about previous weeks, about her subtle contempt, about her apathy, your desire to continue with that reprimand didn’t diminish.

You were never vengeful, you never let yourself be carried away by that dark side and you began to discover why. It was addictive, dangerously addictive.

The sun shone less intensely as you threw stones off the cliff. The afternoon had passed quickly. Thinking, planning, meditating... That made you completely forget about the time. At least the temptation to run into her arms had gone unnoticed by you.

You opened the door of the mansion and walked slowly. The silence of that place was always disturbing but... What you heard was even more so.

An agonizing sob reached your ears, making you stop in your tracks. Your legs trembled when you recognized it.

“Donna, Donna…” Angie's voice sounded calm, too calm. “Donna, no…”

“She's gone! Porca puttana! She's gone!” Donna screamed, making you freeze in fear.

After that furious scream, loud noises accompanied by a furious panting ran through the old walls.

“Donna, stop breaking things!” Angie yelled after another noise which revealed that something fragile had broken into a thousand pieces.

You shook your head with a hand on your mouth in shock. It had been a long time since the lady lost her mind like that, a long time. You couldn't help but think it was your fault.

“Donna, you cut yourself, you silly, silly Donna!” Angie shrieked, surely trying to control her owner's rage.

You took a breath and began to walk slowly, with shaky legs.

Your little reading corner was a mess. The table was upside down on the floor, the cups and books that were always there were scattered on the floor, broken in a thousand pieces.

Donna was in a corner, her back against the wall and her head buried in her knees, crying inconsolably. You approached slowly, not wanting to draw her attention.

“È colpa mia…” the doll maker sobbed, with a muffled moan. “She left because of me.”

Angie shook her head as she hugged her tenderly, trying to get her to come back to her senses.

Suddenly, the puppet turned her head and looked at you, gasping in surprise.

“Oh, you silly, silly!” she shouted euphorically, pointing at you as she jumped up and down on the wood. “Look, Donna, look, it's the silly, silly girl,” she insisted, pulling the brunette's hand, who slowly looked up.

“Donna, my love…” you sighed, with a sad, regretful look.

“(Y/N)…” she whispered, looking at you, blinking quickly and breathing nervously. “(Y/N)!” she shrieked, crawling on the floor and grabbing your legs in a pathetic way, which made you step back. “Don't leave! Don't abandon me!”

“What? Oh, please, my love… Re-relax, I haven't gone anywhere, I was walking through the woods,” you said nervously, bending down to take her away from that pitiful hug, taking her hands and helping her sit on the couch “Donna, my love, react, come to your senses, my precious Donna…”

“You wanted to leave… You're gone,” she stammered, blinking erratically, shaking her head, unable to stop crying.

Your heart broke just like those tea cups, into a thousand pieces.

“Shhh, no, no darling, I'm not going to leave, I'm still, I'm still here with you…” you said, caressing her face, her hands, staining yourself with a red moisture that came from a wound, probably the cut Angie was talking about.

“Oh, wow, darling… you're bleeding,” you whispered worriedly, repressing your desire to cry. “Wait a minute, I'm going, I'm going to heal you. Angie, please, keep an eye on her.”

“Aye!” the doll shouted, taking your place on the couch.

There were no words. You simply healed that horrible wound in silence while the brunette sobbed more and more weakly, ashamed of her madness, unable to look at you.

“Donna, my love,” you whispered while you healed her, looking at her out of the corner of your eye. “How could you think that I had abandoned you? There's no place I'm better off than with you…”

“It doesn't seem like it,” she murmured, wiping away a tear, looking away, fighting back her sobs. “You don't want to be with me.”

“Oh, wow, so now you dedicate yourself to guessing people's feelings, huh?” you joked with a tender, amused smile. “Then change your job because you're not doing it well…”

“Stop with the stupid jokes, you know perfectly well why I'm saying this,” the lady snapped, removing her injured hand from yours.

You snorted, gripping it tighter again.

“Stay still, will you? I have to heal this,” you murmured, shaking your head. “Donna…” you growled when she struggled against your grip again.

“Leave me alone, stop pretending you love me,” she protested. “If you don't want to be here with me, tell me.”

“You're stubborn, huh?” you said, sighing, with a colder look. “Stop talking nonsense.”

“It's not nonsense!” Donna shrieked, making you back off. “You've shown me this last week. You you don't love me anymore, you don't kiss me. You’re, you're not with me when I work on my dolls. It seems as if I disgust you…”

“I'm not disgusted by you,” you said in a serious, almost brusque tone. “I love you with all my soul.”

“Do you? Then why don't you show it to me anymore?” she asked furiously again.

It was time to be honest.

“I could ask you the same thing, Donna,” you whispered, shaking your head, passing a bandage over her injured hand. “I've always, always tried to give you all my love but you… You seemed to reject it. You always complained about me being too clingy, you hated it, do you know how it made me feel?”

“I don't hate it,” she murmured, with a different tone, with a dark but tender look. “I don't hate it… I don't hate it!”

You nodded nervously.

“I love your kisses, your hugs! I love when you come to see me, when you sit on my lap and say nice things to me! I love your smile, your joy! I love that joy I don't have and can only see in you!” she shouted nervously, confessing the truth you wanted to hear, one you ignored, one for which you caused all that suffering in poor Donna.

“Do you…?” you asked a bit surprised, relaxing Donna with your caresses on her cheek while she shook her head. “Do you...? Do you really the way I am?”

“Yes, I love the way you are, I, I like you being clingy. I love when you don't let me breathe, when you remind me that you love me... you always try to cheer me up… I love you, I want that light that I'm unable to transmit, I want the light in your eyes, the love you give me, the love I can't live without…” she said not looking at you, pressing her lips together to suppress her shame at those words, words that moved you.

“Wow, that's very sweet, Donna,” you said, smiling, bringing her face closer to yours to kiss her lips softly, lovingly, like you had wanted to do for so long. “Forgive me, I was the one who acted that way because… Because I thought it really annoyed you and…”

“You've never annoyed me,” she said, interrupting you. “If I've behaved like an idiot it's because… Because… I'm, I'm scared.”

“You're scared…” you repeated in a soft whisper.

She nodded.

“I'm afraid of letting myself be carried away by your addictive love and that, that one day you won't... won't be by my side,” she said with a sad tone, taking your other hand. “I know, I know I don't... I don't know how to love the same way you do, I know I'm a grumpy fool but it's just that... I've never known what love is until... Until I met you.”

“I understand, darling,” you said with an understanding tone, kissing her again. “Relax, it's all over now... I'll give you all those overwhelming affections that I now know you love...”

Donna smiled at your mischievous caresses, laughing at last, nervous and shy, lighting you up with the joy on her face, one that soon vanished, when the lady grabbed your hands tightly with a pleading look.

“Per favore, (Y/N), I’m begging you. Don’t do this to me again... Don't ignore me ever again, please...”

#donna beneviento #donna beneviento x reader #re8 donna #re8 village #requests #oneshot

222 notes · View notes