#What a wonderful vibrant expressive piece

[chosok-amo]

STARS AROUND SCARS : GOJO SATORU, GETO SUGURU

you were just trying to draw some stars on your boyfriend, not knowing simple things could be so hard when you have two needy boyfriends.

w/c : 8k (sorry, can't stop myself :'))

warning : lots, and lots of suggestive conversation, horndog! gojo satoru and fluff.

[☆] MASTERLIST

on a crystal-clear evening with the sky a vivid shade of blue, you and gojo satoru were enjoying a rare and cherished day off. the living room was bathed in the gentle, natural light of the setting sun, casting a warm glow over everything.

you were sprawled comfortably on the soft carpet, wearing a casual outfit that perfectly matched the relaxed vibe of the day: a short denim skirt paired with a white crop top, and ankle socks completing the look. gojo lay in front of you, his one arm lying flat as a pillow beneath his head, equally casual in a pair of short blue jeans and white socks, his posture relaxed and at ease.

while you two were savoring this peaceful downtime, your other boyfriend, geto suguru, was hard at work. he was busy attending an important meeting with the jujutsu higher-ups, his mind likely consumed by the demands of his role. it was a stark contrast to your serene afternoon, but you knew how dedicated he was, and it made these moments with gojo even more special.

colorful pens and crayon marks were spread out in vibrant disarray around you. the bright, vivid hues of the art supplies had left their playful imprints on the carpet, creating a whimsical, chaotic pattern that contrasted beautifully with the serene atmosphere of your cozy living room.

“oh, look at you,” you enthusiasly said as you carefully drew tiny stars around gojo's scars on his arm, adding a burst of color. “you’re like a living piece of the blue sky,” you giggled.

gojo chuckled, his lips curving into a charming smile at your words, “ah, so you think i'm a living piece of the sky, huh? well, i can't say i dislike that comparison,” he joked, his eyes watching your every move as you added the final touches with your colorful pens.

his gaze drifted to the colorful art supplies scattered around you, and his smile turned a tad more mischievous. “you're making quite a mess here,” he teased, gesturing to the mess of color covering the carpet, “i wonder what suguru will think when he sees this.”

you can't help but grin at gojo's comment, continuing to scribble playful little stars around his scars. “oh, come on,” you reply with a lighthearted roll of your eyes, “it's not a mess it's. . . creative expression.” you raise an eyebrow at his mention of geto, imagining the slight eye roll you'll get as he walks through the door and sees your vibrant ‘creative expression’ on the carpet.

“he'll probably just shake his head in faux disapproval,” you say with a soft laugh. “but secretly he'll think it's adorable,” imagining the look on suguru's face when he walked in to see the colorful chaos you'd created. “i'm sure he'll love it,” you replied sarcastically, rolling your eyes playfully. “he always appreciates a good splash of color.”

as you continued your whimsical artwork on gojo's arm, he couldn't help but watch you with a hint of amusement in his eyes. “you've got quite the artistic touch there,” he remarked, observing the swirling stars you'd added to his scars. “i'm starting to feel like a canvas.”

you flash him a cheeky grin, “well, you're the perfect blank canvas, with all these little scars.” your fingers move with careful precision as you artfully create tiny spirals and swirls around his scars with your pens. the way his skin was so pale and flawless made the scars stand out even more, creating a unique canvas for your colorful designs.

“and you're being such a good ’canvas’ too,” you chuckle, gently teasing. “no squirming, no complaints.” your eyes dart between the swirls and stars you've created on his arm, admiring your own work. “besides, it's not like you're complaining. you wouldn't be lying here letting me draw on you if you didn't enjoy it, would you?”

gojo chuckled, “you've got a point there. It does feel kind of nice, having a pretty girl like you drawing on me.” he glances down at his arm, observing the colorful designs you've created. “i just hope suguru doesn't get jealous,” he teases, a smirk playing upon his lips, “he might think I'm enjoying this a little too much.”

“but you do enjoy this a little too much,” you look at him for a second before looking down to where his hand lies under your chest— under your breast more likely. giving it a gentle squeeze from here and there since the start.

gojo chuckled, his smirk widening as you glanced down, well aware of the hand he had placed under you. “can you blame me, really? i have a stunning woman practically straddling my hand, and she's putting on quite the colorful show on my arm.”

his fingers involuntarily flex against your skin, the warmth seeping through your crop top, sending tingles down your spine. “especially when your hands are on me... touching me in all the right places.”

he gave your breast a light squeeze once again, his thumb slowly tracing a pattern on your skin as he met your eyes, a playful twinkle visible in his. “besides, i doubt you're complaining either, considering the location of your perch. but i swear, baby it's just for the art. completely art-related enjoyment,” he gives you a wink before chuckle.

“shut up!” you swat his hand lightly, trying to hide your embarrassment. “why do you have to say it like that? it sounds so inappropriate!” you then shift slightly, guiding his hand from beneath your chest to rest flat against the carpet, a playful scowl on your face. “just keep it where it belongs, okay?”

gojo chuckles, pretending to pout as you smack his hand away from your chest. “hey, i'm just being honest,” he replies with a smirk. “and besides, you were pretty much lying on my hand.” he lets his hand fall to the side, a hint of disappointment in his eyes, “now that you've moved it, i feel strangely empty,” he making a squeeze gesture with his hand, teasing you once more.

“it was nice having a little something to hold,” he adds, the corner of his mouth tugging upwards in a mischievous smirk. you roll your eyes at his pitiful expression, aware of his tactics to get what he wants. “don't give me that look," you chide playfully, “you're not getting that hand back, babe.”

yet, you can't help but feel a flutter in your stomach at the way he talks about wanting to hold something, his voice low and suggestive. “and quit being such a pervert,” you add, trying to mask the way his words affect you.

gojo feigns innocence once again, “me? a pervert? perish the thought,” he teases, the smirk never leaving his lips as he watches the subtle blush on your cheeks.

“i just appreciate beautiful things,” he continues, his eyes briefly roaming over your figure. “and you, my dear, are an absolute masterpiece.” his gaze drifts to your hips, admiring the way your short skirt rides up with each subtle shift. “and it's a damn good view from down here,” he mutters under his breath.

he reaches out towards where his hand was previously, only to snatch it back when you give him a firm look. “come on, don't be mean. i miss the company down there.” he gives you puppy dog eyes, his gaze pleading. “just one hand? for old-time's sake? i'll be good, i promise.”

you can't help but chuckle at his puppy dog eyes, the way they widen ever so slightly to make him look like a pouting child. “don't you start with that look,” you scold, trying to keep your resolve despite his adorable expression.

yet, as much as you enjoy the game of cat and mouse, you can't help but feel a tinge of yearning for his touch too. you bite your lip, considering his plea. “one hand,” you finally relent, “and you better behave yourself, gojo.” a sly smile dances on his lips as he hears your reluctant but consenting response, knowing he’s got you right where he wants you now. gojo slowly slides his hand underneath you once more, this time allowing his fingers to brush against your side, tracing the smooth curve of your waist.

his touch is light, like a whisper against your skin, as if he's testing his boundaries. “you’re so soft,” he whispers, his eyes darkened. “i don’t know how you manage to feel so soft and delicate, but also so strong and feisty at the same time.”

“stop tempting me!” you exclaim with a playful huff. “let me add these little stars to your arm without distractions!” you punctuate your demand with a light bite on his arm, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “i need to focus on my artwork, not on how you’re making this way more interesting than it should be.”

gojo can't help but chuckle at your attempted bite, his arm reflexively twitching under your teeth. “ow, ow, ow,” he exclaims in fake pain, “you're really getting into your role as a fierce artist, huh?”

his hand continues to slowly explore your side, his fingers gently tracing along the hem of your crop top, the tips dipping just slightly beneath the fabric. He watches the way you shiver under his touch with a mixture of amusement and fascination. “is that how you treat your canvas?” he teases. “well, if you weren’t such an irresistible muse, maybe I’d be more gentle,” you retort with a smirk. “but since you’re clearly enjoying this little performance, i might just have to give you an encore. how’s that for art?”

gojo lets out a pleased hum, clearly enjoying your playful banter. “oh, i'm enjoying it alright,” he replies, his hand still drifting lazily along your side, inching its way up to brush against the bare skin of your stomach, “i never knew being a muse could be this much fun.”

his touch becomes a little more insistent, his fingers now outlining the contour of your hip, enjoying the way your breath hitches at his touch. “keep going,” he encourages, “i want to see your entire masterpiece.”

your mind is a whirl of sensations. you try to focus on your work, continuing to draw the tiny little stars around gojo's scars, but his hand is a constant presence on your body, stealing your attention once again.

you try to keep your composure, to maintain the illusion of control, but the way his fingers glide across your waist, and the heat creeping up your spine betrays you. “i can't work like this,” you halfheartedly complain, your voice a little breathier than you had intended.

“come on, babe, let me just finish this,” you pouted, looking up at your boyfriend with a mix of frustration and affection. he responded with a gentle smile and a sigh of resignation. “alright, alright, i’m sorry,” he said, pushing himself up from the floor to give you a quick, tender kiss. afterward, he eased back down onto the floor, his free arm resting comfortably behind his head as he settled in with a relax expression.

gojo watches with a relaxed smile as you continue your work, his gaze shifting between the colorful stars and spirals on his arm and your concentrated expression. occasionally, his hand would sneak beneath your shirt or stroke against your arm, as if to remind you of his presence and the effect he had on you. you could feel the heat from his skin through your thin fabric, making you shiver each time he touched you.

“you're so focused,” he remarks with a hint of teasing, “it's quite adorable.”

just as you reach for another marker, the sound of the front door opening makes you look up. geto suguru has entered the apartment, his tall, lean figure filling the doorway.

“i'm home,” he says, his footsteps entering the living room after a beat. he looks surprised to find you and gojo sprawled on the carpet, surrounded by a chaotic array of colorful pens. his gaze flicks between the artwork covering gojo's arm to your flushed face. a small smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

“well, this is a colorful sight,” he observes, stepping closer to the carpet, his eyes drifting over the markings on gojo's arm. the white-haired boy grins up at him, his hand still resting underneath you, “well, our little artist here decided to use me as her canvas.”

geto's gaze shifts to you, raising an eyebrow in amusement, “quite the masterpiece you've created there, love,” he looks down on you before crouching beside you.

you look up, smiling at your other boyfriend before kissing him on the cheek, “how is your day, baby?” you ask, soft and gentle as you continue to lie on your stomach and draw on gojo's arm. geto smiles warmly, his eyes crinkling slightly at your affectionate greeting. he leans down to return the kiss gently, his hand brushing against your cheek.

“my day was fine, darling,” he replies, his voice smooth and soothing. he glances down at the artwork you're creating on gojo's arm, his gaze flickering over the bright, vibrant stars and spirals. “i see you've been keeping our dear satoru entertained,” he teases, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

gojo chuckles, “oh, I'm very entertained, trust me.” he gives your breast a gentle squeeze for emphasis. “our little artist has quite the touch.” geto chuckles, shaking his head at gojo's antics. he crouches down beside you, his gaze lingering on your focused expression as you continue your artwork.

he reaches out and threads his fingers through your hair, gently tousling it. “and how are you doing, my love?” he asks, his voice low and affectionate. you smile, “my day is good, satoru can't stop squeezing my boobs but it was good.”

gojo lets out a laugh, feigning innocence, “hey, i can't help it. they're soft and pleasant to touch.” geto rolls his eyes affectionately, giving gojo a playful nudge. “control yourself, satoru,” he says sternly, yet there's a hint of amusement in his voice. he shifts his attention back to you, his hand still carding through your hair. “ignore this shameless man here. i'm glad your day was good, despite his. . . antics.”

gojo pouts petulantly, his hand still resting on your hip. “i can't help it, they're just. . . right there,” he defends, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

geto huffs, shaking his head again at gojo's unabashed behavior. “you're incorrigible,” he mutters, though his voice lacks any real annoyance. he gazes down at you, a tender look in his eyes, “don't let him distract you too much, dear."

geto watches as you continue to draw on ojo's arm, a small smile playing on his lips. after a minute, he turns his attention to you, his hand reaching out to touch your shoulder gently.

“can i have a turn too?” he asks, his voice is soft but hopeful. gojo's eyes widen slightly in surprise, his hand pausing on your hip. “hey, hey. what's with this sudden request?” he asks, mock-jealousy in his tone. but you can tell by the flicker of interest in his eyes that he doesn't mind sharing the spotlight a bit. geto simply rolls his eyes, a hint of amusement at gojo's reaction.

“of course, babe. you can have a turn,” you reply, shifting your attention to geto without paying attention to gojo for a moment. gojo makes a mock cry of protest, but there's a hint of a grin on his face. “hey, no budging in line!”

geto chuckles at gojo's theatrics, shaking his head at his childish behavior. “oh, hush, you had your turn,” he teased. you smile at them both, enjoying the playful dynamic between the two. “don't worry, he won't take too long,” you reassure gojo, glancing over at him with a playful smirk.

gojo pouts, but there's a glimmer of enjoyment in his eyes at the sight of you interacting with both of them. as geto peels off his uniform, revealing his lean, toned body, your eyes widen in appreciation. you can't help but admire his muscular frame, and a smile spreads across your face.

gojo lets out a mock-disgusted groan, clearly annoyed at how easily he's been replaced in your affections. “oh, come on,” he whines, “you're drooling over him already?” geto chuckles at gojo's complaint, taking a moment to flex his muscles, clearly teasing both you and gojo.

you roll your eyes at gojo's pouting, “oh, shush. you just don't want to share the attention, do you?”

meanwhile, geto is thoroughly enjoying the fact that he has your undivided attention, his eyes sparkling with a mix of mischief and affection. “come on baby, lie here and let me put stars on you,” you giggle like a teenage girl who just got her first kiss from her crush. you pat a spot in front of you. geto grins at your giggling excitement, your enthusiastic invitation making him chuckle. he obliges, settling down in front of you, placing his head on gojo's stomach.

gojo, still feigning annoyance, huffs but can't help but also secretly enjoy the sight of the two of you together and the feeling of his boyfriend on his skin. “i feel like a piece of furniture here,” he complains jokingly. you puff a laugh, “come on, baby, don't be like that. i spend hours putting all these little stars on you,” you give him a peck on the lips, “i'll let you put stars on me too if you let me do him first, hm?” you caressing his arm that is now covered in colorful stars lovingly.

gojo's expression softens as you reassure him, his annoyance melting away under your gentle touch. “well, when you put it that way. . .” he mutters, reluctantly agreeing to your suggestion. he looks down at his arm, admiring the colorful stars you've drawn on it. “alright, fine,” he concedes, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, “but you're not allowed to complain if the stars i draw are messy.” you shook your head, “i won't baby.” you give him another peck on the lips and arm before smiling at him, your eyes sparkling as you look at him.

“you're such a baby, toru,” geto comments before rolling his eyes.

gojo huffs at geto's comment, playfully sticking his tongue out. “i'm not a baby,” he protests, his pout reemerging. “i just happen to appreciate the work my lovely artist is doing.”

you chuckle at their banter, amused by their sibling-like rivalry. “let him pout, babe,” you say to geto, patting gojo's stomach gently, “it's endearing.”

geto shakes his head, amused by gojo's sulking, “you're such a drama queen, satoru.” gojo sticks out his tongue again, clearly reveling in the banter. “oh, shut up. i'm just adding some entertainment to this little art session.” you try to hold back a laugh, enjoying the bickering between them. “alright, you two, can you behave for a little bit so i can finish?”

“besides,” you continue, grabbing a marker and shifting your attention to geto's bare torso, “he's just jealous he's not the center of attention right now.” you begin tracing a few stars on geto's chest, your fingertips grazing over his skin as you work.

geto lets out a content sigh as you begin drawing on his chest. his muscles flex slightly under your touch, a soft hum escaping his lips. he glances over at gojo, who is watching the two of you intently. “jealous, huh?” he teases, a lazy smirk on his face. “is his giant ego feeling threatened again?”

gojo huffs, but there's a playful gleam in his eye. “hey, i'm not jealous,” he defends, “i'm just. . . observant? and i happen to notice when i'm not the center of attention,” he pout, slightly rolling his eyes, realizing how stupid he sounds.

he pokes geto's side, causing him to jump slightly, still ticklish even in his relaxed state. “don't forget who's the real star here,” he adds, giving you a wink. geto swats away gojo's hand, rolling his eyes at his friend's antics. “yeah, yeah, keep reminding us all how great you are,” he quips back, his tone affectionate yet teasing.

you can't help but chuckle at their banter, finding it endearing how they can go from flirting with you to bickering like siblings in a matter of seconds. you continue working on geto's chest, tracing swirling patterns and stars over his smooth skin. geto's gaze drifts up to you, admiring your focused expression as you draw. he smiles, enjoying the feeling of your touch on his skin.

“you really love doing this, huh?” he comments, his voice is soft and affectionate. his purple irises never leave your face, drinking every second of you drawing little stars around his scars.

you glance up at him with a mischievous smile, “oh, absolutely. it’s not every day i get to add a touch of sparkle to such a handsome canvas. besides, watching you enjoy it so much makes it even more fun.” you lean in closer, your fingers brushing lightly against his skin as you continue your artwork. “i might just make this my new favorite hobby,” you give his skin a little kiss.

gojo, sensing an opportunity to steal some of the spotlight back, pipes up, “hey, what about me? I let you paint all over me too, ‘yknow.” you glance over at gojo, a coy smile playing on your lips. “oh, don't worry, baby. i didn't forget about you for even a moment.”

you reach over and give gojo's arm a reassuring caress, your fingers tracing over the colorful stars. “and you look adorable with all these stars on you.”

gojo grins, pleased that he's regained a bit of your attention. geto rolls his eyes affectionately, commenting, “there he goes again, always needing the attention.” gojo sticks out his tongue at geto in response, before turning his gaze back to you. “hey, it's nice to be appreciated, ‘yknow,” he whines, pouting like a child.

you laugh at his childish behavior, shaking your head in amusement. “oh, you're always appreciated, you big baby,” you say, giving him another affectionate caress.

geto chuckles, commenting again, “he's such a spoiled brat.” gojo, fully embracing his bratty attitude, puffs out his chest in mock pride. “damn right i'm a spoiled brat. the brat who gets all the attention.” geto rolls his eyes again but can't help but laugh at gojo's antics. “and he's proud of it too. such a child.”

you shake your head, continuing your work on geto's chest, enjoying the friendly banter between the two. gojo rolled his eyes before drifting his eyes to your bare thigh as you were still lying on your stomach, making his face eye-level with your thigh. gojo's eyes narrow upon noticing the bare skin of your thigh, exposed as you continue working on drawing on geto's chest. he can't help but admire the sight, his gaze fixated on the soft skin.

gojo's hand slowly creeps its way over, tracing a lazy pattern on the inside of your thigh, just above behind your knee. you stop for a moment to turn your head and see what gojo were doing before looking at geto who's already looking at him at the same time.

“just let him be, at least he's quiet,” you tell the boy before he gets a chance to throw another comment. a soft laugh escaped geto's lips, chuckles at your comment as he watches gojo's hand travel farther up your thigh, his fingers tracing absentmindedly over your skin.

he can tell from the look on gojo's face that he's completely distracted and fixated on your thigh, completely entranced by the sight before him. “oh, he's definitely not quiet,” geto comments, a small smirk on his face, “he's just drooling silently.” gojo's fingers continue to trace gently over your skin, his touch becoming more purposeful as he slowly inched his way upward. his eyes are half-lidded, his attention fully focused on the exposed skin of your thigh.

he doesn't even bother to respond to geto's comment, too lost in the sight of your bare leg, his mind wandering to all the things he wants to do to you. you shook your head, a defeated sigh leave your lips, “he's such a pervert.” geto simply chuckled at your comment, his gaze flickering over to gojo's fixated expression. “that's an understatement," he quipped.

geto nodded, his eyes following gojo's movements with a mix of amusement and resignation. “that he is. always fixated on the most inappropriate things.” he watches as gojo's hand moves higher, now gently caressing the sensitive skin just above your knee. “i swear, he has the tact of a child sometimes.”

gojo, still entranced by your thigh, finally snaps out of his daze upon hearing your comment. “baby, I'm not a pervert,” he protested, almost whining, though his voice lacked any real conviction, “i'm just. . . appreciating the view.” geto couldn't help but roll his eyes at gojo's weak defense. “yeah, sure you are,” he snorted, not buying it for a second.

he watched as gojo continued to caress your thigh, his fingers gently tracing patterns on the soft skin. “appreciating the view, my ass,” he repeated, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“more like salivating over it like a starving man,” he added, shaking his head in amusement. geto rolls his eyes, “‘appreciating the view’ with his eyes all glazed over and not a single coherent thought running through his brain.“

gojo huffs, but he doesn't protest further, knowing that there's a hint of truth in geto's words. his hand continues to wander up your thigh, his touch feather-light as he slowly inches towards the hem of your skirt. geto chuckled again, shaking his head at gojo's lack of denials.

“exactly,” he agreed, a smirk on his lips, “he's just a man controlled by his primal urges. and right now, his primal urge is to cop a feeling.” gojo pouts a little, but can't argue with geto's assessment. his hand slowly travels higher up your thigh, his touch becoming bolder, his fingers tracing the edge of your skirt, gently inching under the hem. “baby it's ticklish,” you move your leg the gojo's touch slightly.

gojo pauses his movements, hearing your protest. he glances up at you, a look of innocent concern on his face. “ticklish, huh?” he says, his hand still hovering just under the hem of your skirt, his index finger tracing small circles on your thigh.

gojo feigns innocence, “oops, my bad. i was just... exploring.” geto snorts, clearly amused by the interaction. “yeah, ‘exploring.’ that's one way to put it.” gojo rolled his eyes, feeling called out, but he can't deny the truth in geto's words. his finger continues to trace small circles on your thigh, his touch a mixture of feather-light and purposeful.

“i can't help it,” he defends, his voice sounding almost whiny, “you just have such soft skin, and... well, it's right there, begging to be touched." geto laughs again, shaking his head at gojo's feeble excuse. “right, it's all my fault. my skin just magically calls out to your wandering hands,” you mock, the sarcasm in your tone clear.

despite your sarcastic remarks, your expression holds a hint of amusement, clearly enjoying the banter. you glance down at where gojo's hand is gently caressing your thigh, his touch still light and teasing. “you're like a dog with a bone, ‘toru. once you get ahold of something, you just don't know how to let go.” gojo pouts again, feigning offense at geto's dog comment. “hey, i'm not a dog,” he replies, his hand still wandering higher up your thigh, almost reaching the bare skin under your skirt.

“and i can let go... when i want to,” he adds defiantly, “i just happen to really enjoy holding onto this particular... bone.” you rolled your eyes before sighing, continue to draw a stars around geto's torso “i swear I'm gonna die young with all of this headache you two gave me.” geto chuckles at your exasperated comment, enjoying the banter between the three of you. “hey, don't blame us for the inevitable early grave,” he replies with a smirk, “we're just adding a bit of excitement to your life.”

gojo, not wanting to be outdone, chimes in with a wink, “yeah, think of us as your personal stress relievers.”

you snort a little before nodding your head, sarcastically replying, “yeah right, more like adding more stress.” geto chuckles, “aw baby, don't be like that, you know from the start we don't promise you this relationship will be stress-free,” he pushes himself upward to give you kisses before lying back.

you playfully roll your eyes, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you continue to draw the stars on his torso, feeling his muscles flex underneath your touch. “oh, i know,” you reply, shaking your head in mock resignation. “but a girl can still hope, can't she?”

“yeah, sorry to break it to you, princess,” gojo jokingly says, his hand now gently gliding from your thigh to your hip, caressing the skin just above the hem of your skirt.

“but you knew what you were signing up for when you agreed to date us,” he adds, his voice laced with playful confidence. you take a deep breath, “that sucks,” supporting your face with one hand as you lazily draw on geto's skin. geto smirks, enjoying your half-hearted complaint. “yeah, it's pretty rough,” he replies sarcastically, “having two handsome and charming boyfriends who love and adore you. oh, the hardships you face.”

gojo pipes up, his hand continuing to explore your hip bone under your skirt, “oh, shut up. she should feel honored to have us.” you let out a laugh, shaking your head at their banter. despite your faux complaints, you secretly loved their back-and-forth banter, finding their playful bickering amusing.

“oh, trust me, i feel incredibly honored,” you retort with an affectionate eye roll, “having two massive, needy babies fighting for my attention all the time. it's a dream come true. now my mansion’s ballroom is a bit too crowded, and my collection of rare art pieces isn’t fitting in my oversized vault,” you sarcastically joke.

gojo and geto both roll their eyes playfully at your sarcastic comment, but they can't help but smile at your clever quip. geto laughs, shaking his head. “oh, yeah, it's such a burden having two wealthy, successful sorcerer— not to mention, the strongest in your life. your poor bank account is suffering.”

gojo chimes in with a grin, “and your poor heart must be strained from all the love and affection we shower on you.” you feign a sigh, placing the back of your hand on your forehead dramatically. “oh, the struggles i face,” you say dramatically, your voice dripping with fake sadness. “having two handsome, charming men constantly pestering me for attention and showering me with gifts. it's absolutely terrible.”

gojo and geto exchange a knowing glance, both aware that you're laying on the sarcasm heavily. but they also know that deep down, you secretly love the attention they give you.

“oh, poor princess indeed,” geto says, shaking his head in mock sympathy. “it must be exhausting having two devoted boyfriends who worship the ground you walk on,” gojo sympatheticly said, tapping your ass. you let out a sigh, “i can't do anything about it, can i?” geto and hojo both give you playful grins, shaking their heads in unison.

“nope, not a damn thing,” gojo replies with a shrug, his hand still slowly tracing patterns on your hip under your skirt. geto chimes in, “you're stuck with us, princess. no backsies.”

“poor me,” you shook your head in defeat.

you tap geto's abs before changing your position to sitting, “now my turn,” you demand, giving the two boys a marker. pulling your crop top out of your body, leaving you on nothing but your pink bra and lying on your back on the floor. both boys stare at you with an almost predatory gleam in their eyes, clearly enjoying the sight before them. they take the markers from you, their gaze hungry and appreciative.

gojo twirls one of the markers in his hand, a sly smile on his lips, “oh, princess, you spoil us.” geto nods in agreement, his eyes roaming over your body, “you're giving us a blank canvas to work with. this should be fun.” both boys move closer to you, each taking one side of your body. gojo's hand begins tracing lines on your stomach, his touch firm and purposeful, while geto's fingers glide over your sides, drawing swirling patterns with the marker.

they work in tandem, their eyes occasionally locking with each other as they take in the sight of your body, their markers moving in perfect sync across your skin. “you're such a good canvas,” gojo murmurs, his voice low and husky.

“i know my love, now shut up and do your job,” you pinch his cheek softly. gojo and geto both chuckle at your demand, but they comply, focusing their attention back on your body, their fingers and markers gliding across your skin, their movements precise and deliberate.

“yes, ma'am,” gojo replies with mock obedience, his lips curving into a smirk. “we'll shut up and get back to work,” geto adds, his hand moving over your ribs, tracing small stars with his marker. they continue to draw on your bare skin, their eyes fixed on their task, their markers moving quickly as they fill in different areas. they occasionally glance at each other, exchanging secretive grins as they admire their work.

“you know,” gojo murmurs, his marker tracing the line of your hip bone, “we could do this every night if you wanted.” you raised your eyebrows, with a little smirk on your lips your replies, “or we could go to a tattoo shop and make this permanent,” you jokingly tells your boyfriends. gojo and geto both pause for a moment at the mention of tattoos, their eyes flickering towards each other. they exchange a glance, contemplating your suggestion.

gojo grins, the idea is clearly appealing to him. “you know, that's not a bad idea.” he says, returning his attention to drawing on your body. geto nods, a smirk playing on his lips. “yeah, we could mark you as ours permanently. make sure everyone knows who that gorgeous body belongs to.” they continue their work, their markers gliding across your skin, their touches becoming more possessive and claiming with every stroke.

“wouldn't it be hot?” gojo asks, his hand tracing an intricate pattern on your ribs, “you walking around covered in our marks, a permanent reminder that you're ours, body and soul.“ you chuckle, slightly amused by their reaction to your joke, “yeah, that's not gonna happen.” gojo and geto both pout playfully at your rejection of the idea, their eyes filled with mock disappointment.

“aww, come on,” gojo whines, his marker continuing to draw lines on your upper body, “why not? you'd look even hotter with a bunch of our tattoos all over you.” geto nods, a smirk playing on his lips, “yeah, imagine how jealous everyone would be, seeing all those ink marks on your body, knowing they can never touch you the same way we can.”

you snort, shaking your head while your eyes are focusing on the ceiling, “you're delusional, baby, nobody gonna feel that way.” both boys feign offense at your comment, their expressions hurt and indignant. “what do you mean, nobody's going to feel that way?” gojo protests, his marker pausing on your lower abdomen. “you're like, the most gorgeous person alive. of course, people would be jealous.”

geto nods in agreement, his fingers tracing a star on your hip, “yeah, you underestimate your own allure. you're a walking dream, princess.” you breathe a hearty laugh, ruffle your boyfriends' hair, “you guys are so sweet, you're making me feel good about myself, no wonder why i love you two so much.”

they continue their work, their markers and fingers moving in synchronized harmony, filling in the spaces on your body with their artwork. gojo glances up at you, his eyes meeting yours, his expression soft and loving, “you know we adore you, right? every inch of you, inside and out.”

geto nods, his gaze drifting over your body, appreciating every line and contour. “you're our world, princess. we're hopelessly smitten with you.” their words hang in the air, their sincerity and admiration for you clear in their voices. their markers continue to glide over your skin, their touch gentle and reverent.

they finish up their artwork, their markers making a few final strokes before they both sit back and admire their work. they move their gazes over your body, taking in every mark and design they've made. “there,” gojo says, a satisfied smile on his lips, “perfect.”

geto's eyes roaming over your body. “damn, you look even sexier covered in our artwork.” they both take a moment to appreciate their handiwork, their eyes roaming over your body, their expressions filled with pride and satisfaction. the artwork they've drawn on your skin is intricate and beautiful, a masterpiece of their combined effort.

“you really do look amazing,” gojo murmurs, his hand gliding over your hip. “we did a damn good job,” geto says, his gaze lingering on your stomach, “our masterpiece in the flesh."

you look down at the artwork adorning your skin, your eyes widening with genuine admiration. a playful smile spreads across your face as you turn to face them. “well, i must say, you two make quite the artistic team. if this is your idea of a masterpiece, i’d say you’ve outdone yourselves. i might have to start charging for these kinds of commissions!” you give them both a teasing wink, clearly impressed by their work.

you flash them a sly grin and say, “alright, art critics, i need you to snap a photo of your masterpiece. i’m sure you’ll want to show this off as much as i do. so, let’s get that camera ready—this level of artistry deserves to be immortalized, don’t you think?” uou strike a dramatic pose, making sure the artwork is front and center.

they both burst out laughing at your playful words, their eyes gleaming with amusement. they're both clearly pleased by your praise and appreciate your playful banter. gojo grins widely, his hands already moving to fish out his phone. “oh, princess, you have no idea. this isn't just a masterpiece, it's a work of art that should be displayed in a museum."

“damn right,” geto agrees, his eyes still wandering over your body, admiring the artwork he and gojo created. he leans over to grab his own phone, ready to capture the perfect shot of you and their masterpiece. “no need to tell us twice, we’ll document this masterpiece, alright. say cheese.”

gojo and geto both aim their phones at you, framing the artwork on your skin with the camera lenses. they snap a few shots, each from a different angle, making sure to capture every intricate detail of their masterpiece. gojo grins as he reviews the pictures on his phone, his eyes roaming over the image with approval. “damn, we've really outdone ourselves this time,” giving the boy beside him a high-five.

geto nods in agreement, admiring the pictures on his own screen. “that's an understatement. you look even hotter than i could have imagined.” they can't help but laugh as you strike a dramatic pose, clearly enjoying yourself. “that's right baby, just like that, look at you, you look like you're ready for a magazine cover,” gojo chuckles to himself, his finger hovering over the camera button.

“or the cover of a high-end art book,” geto adds, a smirk on his lips. “alright, smile pretty for the camera, princess.” you flash a radiant smile, channeling your inner supermodel as you strike a pose, knowing full well that you look absolutely fabulous.

gojo and geto both snap more pictures, clearly enjoying capturing your beauty and the artwork covering your body. “damn, you're a natural,” gojo says, studying the photos on his phone. “we should frame these and hang them up in our rooms.”

“oh? we're gonna hang it up in our rooms?” you ask, a glint of something flashing in your eyes. “well, we better make it worth it.”

so locking your eyes with them, slowly and sensually you take off your pink bra, holding it between your fingers while your other hand covers your breast. playfully, you throw your bra at them before laughing. gojo and geto's eyes widen in surprise as you seductively remove your bra and playfully throw it at them. they both can't help but grin, their gazes immediately locking onto your bare chest.

“damn, baby, you really know how to make a statement,” gojo murmurs, his eyes drinking in the sight of your exposed skin. geto smirks, catching your bra in his hand and hanging it around his neck, his eyes roaming over your chest. “you definitely make hanging up those pictures worth it.” you are lying on your side with your elbow kneeling on the carpet to support your head while your other hand is still covering your bare chest.

“come on, boys, take a picture of me,” you smile at them. they both raise their phones again, their gazes never leaving your form as you strike yet another provocative pose. their hands hold the camera steadily, their fingers poised over the camera button, their eyes still fixed on your body.

“fuck, you look incredible,” gojo breathes, his eyes roving over you, taking in every inch of flesh on display. geto grins, his tongue darting out to wet his lips, “you’re making us want to drop these phones and pounce on you right now, princess.” they both snap a few more photos, focusing on different parts of your body, capturing every curve and contour in all its naked glory. their expressions are filled with desire and admiration as they take in the images on their screens.

“you're a goddamn goddess,” gojo murmurs, his eyes lingering on a particularly risqué photograph of you before adding, “and remember to stay just like that, princess.”

“agreed,” geto nods, his eyes roaming over the photo of you, clearly appreciating every detail. “this is something to keep in our private collection for sure.” you give them a sultry smile, “well, if you’re this impressed now, just wait until you see what i have in store for our private collection. keep those photos safe—I’m planning to give you both plenty more to admire.” you strike a playful pose, teasingly adjusting your position to give them an even better view. gojo and geto exchange a knowing look, their eyes lighting up with excitement and anticipation. they clearly love your playful attitude and the promise of more to come.

“oh, we'll be keeping these photos very safe,“ geto chuckles, his eyes never leaving your body as he continues to take pictures, “and we'll be eagerly awaiting whatever else you have in store for us.”

gojo smirks, his gaze roaming over your body once again, “you really know how to work a camera, princess.“ you look up to them, giving your boyfriends doe eyes as you remove your hand— now fully flashing them your breast. “don't stop now,” you murmur. the tip of your feet moving slowly to geto's abs, purposely open your legs knowing you are wearing nothing underneath your skirt except your pink underwear.

gojo and geto both freeze, their eyes widening as you slowly stretch your feet to press against geto's stomach, your legs opening to reveal your skimpy panties. they're both momentarily speechless, their gazes fixated on your seductive pose.

“holy hell,” gojo gasps, his hands clenching around the edge of his phone as he struggles to take more pictures. “fuck, princess, you're incredible,” geto breathes, his voice low and thick with desire as he looks down at your legs. they both start snapping more pictures, their hands shaky as they try to capture every moment of your seductive display. gojo's eyes dart down to your open legs, his tongue darting out to moisten his lips as he admires the sight between your thighs.

“can't believe how damn shameless you are,” he groans, his gaze still fixed on your body. geto nods in agreement, his fingers gliding over his phone screen, “you're driving us crazy, princess. you know just how to push our buttons.“ gojo's hand moves quickly, his fingers grasping the edge of your skirt and giving it a firm tug, revealing the skimpy pink fabric of your panties. he quickly raises his phone and snaps a picture, his gaze fixated on the lacy material that's barely covering your most intimate parts.

“fuck, you're a sight to behold,” he mutters, his voice low and gravelly.

geto leans closer, his eyes locked on the photo on the phone screen as he adds, “and I didn't think you could get even hotter, but here we are.” they both can't help but admire the photo, their gazes taking in every detail of your exposed skin and the lacy underwear— already planning on their mind about making it as their home screen. gojo's fingers move over the phone screen again, zooming in to get a closer look at the delicate fabric clinging to your skin.

“you really know how to make things difficult for us, princess,” he mutters, his eyes tracing the contour of your hips and thighs outlined by the thin material. geto chuckles, a smirk on his lips as he adds, “we're not gonna be able to concentrate on anything else tonight after seeing this.”

“now, now, wanna try to make me see stars?” your toe slowly moving to the contour of geto's abs making their eyes light up at your words, their lips curving into wicked grins. they both know exactly what you're implying, and they're both more than willing to make it happen.

gojo's gaze darkens, a sly smile on his lips as he sets his phone down. “oh princess, you don't have to ask us twice,” he replies, stepping closer. geto also sets his phone down, a similar expression on his face as he moves closer to you. “we'll make you see the whole damn universe, sweetheart.”

“why don’t we take this party to the bedroom?” you suggest with a playful glint in your eye. gojo and geto both nod in agreement, their eyes filled with desire and eagerness. “i like the way you think, princess,” gojo murmurs, his hand already reaching out to take yours, his touch firm and possessive. geto brushes a strand of hair from your face, his fingers lingering on your skin. “lead the way, sweetheart,” he says, his voice low and suggestive.

they help you to stand from the floor. you take their hands, holding their finger before pulling them toward your shared bedroom. “come on, boys,” your voice is soft, sensual, like a siren singing for their prey. you turn around, once again flashing them your bare chest— a jeans skirt and a pair of socks are the only fabric on your body.

their gazes roam over your body as you flash them, their eyes hungrily taking in your bare chest, the exposed skin on your thighs and legs, and the soft fabric of your socks. they both make appreciative noises, their grips on your hand tightening slightly as they follow you towards the bedroom. gojo's eyes roam over your body, his voice low and gruff as he says, “you really know how to make an entrance.”

geto smirk, his gaze still fixated on your curves as he adds, “we're gonna have so much fun with you.” you reach the bedroom, and enter the room, the air thick with anticipation. the boys are right behind you, their hands still intertwined with yours, their eyes still trailing over your nearly naked body with hungry gazes.

gojo closes the door behind him, a sly smile on his lips as he locks it. “now that we're alone, princess,” he says, his voice dripping with desire, “we can focus all our attention on you.”

[obsidian-pages777]

Pick a Card: Your Future House and Mansion Aesthetic. Have fun! Pick an Image

Top Left to Right- Pile 1->Pile 2. Bottom Left to Right- Pile 3->Pile 4

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The below is a pick a card prediction of what your future manifestation of a house or a mansion would look like if you were to manifest it into your existence. Enjoy!

Pile 1: Cozy Cottage

The Empress

Your future home will be abundant in natural beauty, with a garden or a lot of indoor plants. The aesthetic is nurturing and comforting, with soft, earthy tones and cozy furnishings.

Ten of Pentacles

This card suggests a traditional, well-established home. It will likely have a classic design with antique furniture, family heirlooms, and a warm, inviting atmosphere. Think of a place that feels timeless and deeply rooted in family history.

If you Manifest a Mansion, It ought to look like the image below:

Ace of Cups

The Ace of Cups indicates a home filled with love and emotional fulfillment. The décor will reflect a sense of peace and tranquility, with elements like water features, soothing colors, and comfortable spaces for relaxation and connection.

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Pile 2: Modern Minimalist

The Fool

Your future apartment will have a fresh, modern, and minimalist design. Expect open spaces, clean lines, and a sense of freedom and lightness. The décor will be simple yet sophisticated, with an emphasis on functionality.

The World

This card suggests a globally inspired aesthetic, with influences from different cultures. Your home will be a blend of modern design and eclectic touches, creating a balanced and harmonious environment. Think of unique art pieces and travel memorabilia.

If you Manifest a Mansion the below image will show how it will look like:

Page of Swords

The Page of Swords indicates a home that is intellectually stimulating and technologically advanced. The aesthetic will be sleek and contemporary, with smart home features, a dedicated workspace, and a clean, organized environment.

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Pile 3: Artistic Bohemian

The Star

Your future home will be an artistic haven, filled with inspiration and creativity. The aesthetic will be eclectic and whimsical, with lots of personal touches, handmade items, and vibrant colors. It will feel like a dreamy, magical space.

Queen of Wands

This card suggests a dynamic and lively home environment. Your space will be full of bold colors, eclectic furniture, and artistic expressions. It will be a place that reflects your passion, creativity, and vibrant energy.

In case you are planning to manifest a mansion, this is what it will look like:

Seven of Cups

The Seven of Cups indicates a home with a whimsical, fantasy-like quality. The aesthetic will be imaginative and dreamy, with unique decor, mystical elements, and a sense of wonder. It’s a place where dreams and reality blend seamlessly.

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Pile 4: Rustic Retreat

The Hermit

Your future home will be a quiet, secluded retreat, perfect for introspection and peace. The aesthetic will be rustic and cozy, with natural materials like wood and stone, warm lighting, and a serene, uncluttered environment.

Four of Wands

This card suggests a home that is a place of celebration and joy. The aesthetic will be charming and welcoming, with a focus on comfort and community. Think of a rustic farmhouse with a large, inviting kitchen and communal spaces for gatherings.

Your Future Manifestation of a Mansion will look like the follows:

Nine of Pentacles

The Nine of Pentacles indicates a home that is both luxurious and self-sufficient. The aesthetic will be elegant and refined, with high-quality materials, beautiful decor, and a sense of abundance and independence. It’s a place of both comfort and sophistication.

================================================

[voxmortuus]

✧*̥˚ PAIRING: *̥˚✧ Count Vronsky x F!Reader!Wife ✧*̥˚ UNIVERSE: *̥˚✧ Anna Karenina ✧*̥˚ WORD COUNT: *̥˚✧ 2k ✧*̥˚ PROMPT: *̥˚✧ This was given to me by the lovely @bettytaylorversion || I would love to request a hc for him in a honeymoon with fem!reader, like pure and utter fluff and romance 🔥💘 ✧*̥˚ TRIGGER WARNINGS: *̥˚✧ Passionate Sex | Unprotected P-i-V | Cream pie | PLEASE TELL ME IF I FORGOT ANYTHING!!! I want to make sure readers are fully aware of what they are getting themselves into when they read this… ✧*̥˚ NOTES: *̥˚✧ I hope this brings you some joy. ✧*̥˚ DIVIDER CREDIT: *̥˚✧ @nyxvuxoa ✧*̥˚ TIME PASSER DIVIDER CREDIT: *̥˚✧ @voxmortuus ✧*̥˚ IMAGE CREDIT: *̥˚✧ @peachyspaceslvt ✧*̥˚ ATJ TAGLIST: *̥˚✧ @earth-elemental18 @nyxvuxoa-writes ✧*̥˚ My Master Masterlist | Aaron Taylor-Johnson Masterlist *̥˚✧

It was a beautiful ceremony, everyone who was anyone was there, but now, it was just time for you and your beloved to be alone. To learn and explore each other. To enjoy the company of the one you will be spending the rest of your life with. Today, it was a beautiful day. The air was warm, but not overly hot, there were large fluffy clouds in the crystal blue sky, and the sun was shining bright. Alexei had decided he was going to take you to a private place, a place where no one was going to bother you. A small little country house just outside of town. Well, today Alexei had plans. These plans were special, and you weren't allowed to know these plans. He had vanished outside leaving you to ponder on your thoughts.

You were sitting in the kitchen, you sip on a cup of tea. Your thoughts were simple, yet nothing overly complex, what would your life be like? He had no issue getting your attention, you found him alluring, attractive, intelligent, suave, and charming, and you found him to be a wonderful conversationalist. Sitting there, your mind drifts in a wonderful daydream of how your life will all work out, what will it become? Jumping a moment when he comes back to the house, you look up at him and smile. Reaching for your hand he kisses it softly and looks over your face.

"I have a beautiful day planned. Shall we?" He asked.

Nodding you were eager. You watched him grab the picnic basket on the outside of the door as you headed toward the docking out back of the home. You look at him and tilt your head.

"You really did plan today out? It really is a beautiful day for something like this." You stated softly looking up toward the sky as you got closer to the private dock.

When you both approached it, he stepped into the small boat, placed the basket down, and held his hand up to help you in, to make sure you were getting into the boat safely. The boat swayed and you got a little nervous, but you knew you were safe. Once you had settled looking around, you smiled sweetly, this was going to be an absolutely beautiful day. Placing your hands in your lap you look over his features as he untied the small boat and pushed it away from the dock.

"Are you ready?" He asked.

You nod eagerly and bite your lip, curious as to where he was taking you. This waterway was large, trees draped over it with beautiful pink and white flowers, vibrant green leaves, and swans, everywhere, it was beyond breathtaking. As he rowed the boat, it moved gracefully in the water, the sounds of nature all around you. You can't help but smile.

"This is beyond beautiful." You smile softly.

"Nothing short of the best for you. Would you like to feed them?" He asked.

"Can I?" You ask eagerly.

He reaches into the basket and hands you a bag of bread pieces. "Here love."

Taking the bag you look inside upon opening the bag. You smile wide before tossing some out into the water. The fish below and the swans above move to get what you had tossed. A soft giggle escapes you as you watch them. Turning back to your new husband you smile softly.

"This is absolutely beautiful. I cannot express this enough." you search his face.

Leaning forward he kisses you softly, running a thumb across your lower lip. "You're absolutely beautiful." He smiles.

Flushing softly you glance down before looking back up at him and searching his face. Licking your lips you tilted your head softly. You feel this warm feeling, this warmth of the sun shining through the branches of the trees. It really was out of some sort of fairytale.

"What other plans do you have today?" You asked him.

"Well, how about I go show you." He smiles taking the oars and carefully working his way through the water to the other side of the large lake. You look over him and wonder when he had the time to do this, but he was up far earlier than you were. You smile softly and continue to look around at everything as he works his way through the water and you continue to feed the fish and birds with the crumbles of bread.

When he gets to the other side he moves past you to get out and pull the boat to the shore and helps you out. Looking around it was a meadow-like opening. There were no trails toward the location he was taking you, a small path from the shore to this small opening that was surrounded by flowers of the season, birds chirping, and a soft subtle breeze. It was beautiful, just like everything else. It was a lot to take in but at the same time, it wasn't.

He opens a blanket he pulls from the basket, and paces it on the earth's floor. He looks up to you and holds out his hand for you to take. Biting your lip softly you chuckle and nod joining him on the blanket. Leaning against him you look out on nature and smile. It truly was a vision of your dreams.

He wraps his arms around you and leans in and kisses your neck. "You smell delicious. Is that a new perfume?" he asks you.

"It is. I'm surprised you noticed." You chuckle softly.

"Of course I noticed. I also noticed you are not wearing anything under your dress." He smiled softly.

"Oh, is that so?" You chuckle.

"That is very much so." He smiled as he reaches down and hikes your dress up a bit.

"Are you wanting to do that here?" You ask him.

"Well, why not? There's no one else here, just us… What do you say Mrs. Vronsky?" He smiles looking down at you.

"Well, when you put it that way." You chuckle and turn to look at him you put your arms around him as he moves to have you straddling his lap.

"Oh, you like hearing Mrs. Vronsky don't you?" He chuckles.

Nodding your head you smile and lean in and kiss him sweetly and deeply. He keeps you close as he moves his hands up your back and presses you close to him as he moves to nip at your neck as his lips trail down and he moves to open your dress a bit more so he can kiss your chest. Now and then his gaze looks up as he watches you carefully. Your jaw slacks a bit, feeling his lips on your flesh like that is utterly intoxicating. You bite your lip and let out a soft whimper, your body trembles softly. This feeling made your body feel warm and even a little dewy between the legs.

He grips at you, his hands moving under your dress and sliding it up to move it off of your frame placing it next to you both, your nimble fingers move to undo the buttons of his shirt and slide it off him and place it by your dress. Looking over him you smile, your fingers move against his chest before you move your hands to the back of his neck and slide your hands up into his hair, as he leans into your hands and nails a bit as they scrape against his scalp you move your hips ever so slightly. He looks over at you and smiles.

"I want to be inside you." He whispers against your lips as he kisses you deeply.

"Then be inside me." You whisper back.

Feeling him free himself as his hard flesh presses against the front of you, he rubs the tip of his cock against your opening before he lowers you onto him. You drop your head to rest against this shoulder and let out a soft moan.

"Oh, Alexei." You whimper.

His jaw clenches a moment as you wrap your slick velvet-like walls around his sensitive flesh. Growling a moment as he buries his face into your neck.

"You feel so good.." He tells you.

"You feel good." You state back as he helps guide you over his hard member.

You begin to moan a little more feeling him fill you, feeling yourself stretch around his hard cock as you glide along him. Your head moves to hang back as your hands press into his shoulders as you bounce at a steady pace. His hands wander your form, feeling your flesh under his grip, it was soft, it was moldable. He watched your face, the way your chest rose and fell with each breath. He looked down at you as you pressed yourself down on him. He liked watching the way it looked, how you took all of him like you were made for him.

Moving you to your back, he looked down at you, your hair fanning out as he leaned forward and began to thrust at a quicker pace, the sounds of you both echoed and rolled off the flower petals. He pressed deeper into you, causing you to moan louder, causing you to grip at his sides, your nails dragging across his back, leaving little red welts of love across his flesh.

Dipping down he captured your lips against his, as he moved to grab your hands enterlacing your fingers with his as he moves them above your head, with each thrust you both move against each other, and your moans pass your lips and dance across his. Your tongue finds his as it dances an intimate dance with his, your moans still escaping into him as he thrusts faster into you, but with each thrust, it is soft, with care, with a tenderness of the moment.

He moves from you, kneeling, watching the way he slips in and out of you, watching the way you coat him with a shiny coating of your juices coating his cock, you moan softly your back arches, your flesh against the contrast of the earth was beautiful, it was something he was going to have a forever memory about.

Lifting your hips to his own he growled softly as he continued to thrust picking up the pace as you roll your hips, your breathing picks up hearing his growls, you aren't able to contain yourself. Gripping at the grass above your head and your body bounces with each thrust he gives. Your moans are mere screams. From the grass to your breasts as he thrusts harder coming to a finish for you both he looks down at you and searches you.

"Finish with me." He states.

"Then don't stop… I am so close." You state.

"Of course not, Love." He smirks as he picks up his pace a little more.

His thumb finds your swollen sensitive bud and he begins to rub it the feeling causes you to scream in pure euphoria and tremble as you were not able to control yourself. Your legs are trembling and your walls begin to spasm against him as if milking him for his seed. He growls and moans loudly as he presses himself deep within you and he buries himself and ribbons of hot finish coat your walls.

After a few more twitches of his member, he looks down at you and smiles softly as he slowly pulls from you and moves to lay by your side. He tucks some hair behind your ear and smiles.

"Now, Mrs. Vronsky, you do know that this is likely to happen often on our honeymoon correct?" He chuckles.

Breathily you look at him. "I sure hope so. Mr. Vronsky."

He just stays there, admiring you, reaching into the basket to feed you grapes, admiring your body, you were absolutely beautiful to him, he couldn't stop staring at you. He didn't want to. Ever. Forever his. Forever yours.

[wherethefireliliesgrow]

Birds of a Feather

Pham Hanni x F reader

GENRE: fluff, slight angst

TAGS: college love, friends to lovers

TYPE: One Shot

Inspired by: Birds of a Feather - Billie Eilish

A jump and rustle in your bed woke you up with a start. Your heart raced at the shock and possibility of an intruder. But before you could turn on the lights, the familiar smell of citrus and raspberries filled the air. It was your best friend and flatmate, Hanni.

She had flopped face-first onto your pillow next to you, her annoyed groan slightly muffled. Your heart thumped loudly at the close proximity of her skin next to yours, but you quickly rubbed your eyes, trying to wipe away the drowsiness and the tingling feeling in your chest.

“What the hell, Pham?” you muttered, glancing at the clock on your nightstand. “Why are you in my room at 3 in the morning?”

She merely pushed her face deeper into your pillow and inhaled, sighing in defeat.

Hanni was many things—she may be a tiny little thing, but she was insanely loud, vibrant, and expressive. So her silence meant something was seriously wrong. That was when you remembered she had left last night for a date with another boy from her major. She had been so excited, but it seemed the date did not go well. You secretly cheered at the thought of her not falling for another guy, but guilt quickly followed. Your friend was here, wallowing in misery, and all you could think about was your own feelings.

“I take it the date with Jun didn’t go well?” you softly asked, reaching over to stroke her raven-black hair.

Finally deciding to answer, she turned around and buried her face in your neck, her small body curling toward your warmth. You wrapped your arm around her and pulled her close, soothing her like you had since you met in freshman year. Your bodies fit together perfectly, like pieces of a puzzle, or birds of a feather.

“It was… okay,” she muttered defeatedly.

“Then what’s wrong? I thought you liked him.”

Hanni let out another sigh, her cool breath brushing against your neck and sending shivers through your body.

“I thought he was cute. But it just doesn’t feel right. There’s no connection, no spark.”

“Don’t force it if it doesn’t feel right,” you said, rubbing her arm soothingly.

“But when will it ever feel right?” Her voice raised slightly, a hint of tears in her eyes.

“I’ve been on at least twenty dates in the past few months, and none of them ever feel right. I’m so tired of this. Maybe I’m just not meant to be with anyone. Maybe no one would ever like me.”

Your heart twinged at hearing Hanni say this. It pained you to see such a wonderful and sweet girl doubt herself so much, beaten down by all the failed dates and rejections.

“Don’t say that, Hanni. From my time with you as your best friend and roommate, I can assure you that you are very lovable and one of the best people in the world. You deserve all the love you can find. Don’t ever let anyone else make you think otherwise.”

Hanni paused in silence at your words, and you started to sweat, worried that she had caught on to your feelings. The room was too dark for you to see her expression, but finally, she softly leaned her head toward you and pressed her lips on your cheek gently before drawing back.

“Thank you, Y/N, for being here, for being my best friend,” she whispered, before cuddling back into you.

Her breathing slowed, indicating that she had fallen asleep.

Your face burned where her lips had touched. You knew this was the closest thing to love you could get from her, but you were content with just being her friend.

.

.

.

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The blow of the whistle echoed in the gymnasium, along with the roar from the crowd in the stands. Your volleyball team had managed to catch up to the competing team, head-to-head in the final round of the quarter-finals. Hanni knew her friends were talking about something, but her eyes stayed glued to you, watching you furrow your brows in concentration as you listened to your coach discuss the next game plan.

“If you stare any harder, your eyes are going to fall out,” Minji, one of her close friends and the class president, teased the shorter girl, nudging her gently out of her trance.

“Huh?” Hanni finally drew her eyes away from you and looked back to see her group of friends all looking at her with stupid, knowing grins on their faces.

“Sorry, what were you guys saying?”

“We were talking about when you were going to ask Y/N out,” Haerin drawled, her cat-like eyes glinting with mischief.

“What?” Hanni quickly shook her head, her heart pounding at the thought. “I don’t like Y/N.”

“If you say so,” Haerin snickered, enjoying watching her friend panic.

“Seriously, I’m not gay,” Hanni’s voice raised slightly, tinged with both anger and fear that they had caught on to her feelings.

“We know, Haerin was just joking,” Danielle quickly cut in. Ever so sweet and a ball of sunshine, she smoothly changed the subject to soothe Hanni’s nerves. “What do you guys want for dinner after?”

As the girls chattered around her, all Hanni could hear was her blood rushing in her ears. She wasn’t gay; she couldn’t be. She only dated boys, even if the dates were always disappointing. She just cared for you as a friend—a best friend. Yes, that must be it. She liked paying attention to you because that’s what a good friend should do. She tried to push the thoughts of how much she enjoyed your attention, how nice it felt to be in your arms, out of her head.

You leaped up high and struck the volleyball, the ball moving so fast that Hanni couldn’t see anything but a blur of white, followed by the sound of a slam and the referee’s whistle. The crowd roared in glee as your teammates all piled on top of you. You had made the final point and secured your school’s ticket to the finals.

Hanni jumped to her feet and screamed your name, waving a towel with your last name on it in celebration.

“Whipped,” Minji muttered to Haerin, and Hyein snickered. Danielle quickly turned around to shush the older girl, but was also grinning as they watched Hanni run from the stands and onto the court to congratulate you.

You caught her mid-jump and twirled her around, the number on your jersey catching the court light as it mirrored the one on Hanni’s body.

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Ever since the girls mentioned the idea of Hanni having feelings for you, she tried her hardest to avoid having these allegations whenever you guys hung out in public. Hanni, who was always around, who always filled the room with her bright energy, began to drift away. She started to avoid you. It wasn’t immediate, but you noticed. It started with her not sitting next to you  in classes, then she stopped responding to your texts as quickly as she used to. Eventually, she stopped joining in on Friday movie nights in the living room. She used to look forward to these so much.

You couldn't understand what had changed. Everything was fine until the game. The closeness you two shared, the comfort in each other's presence, was suddenly replaced by a wall that the shorter girl seemed determined to build. When you asked her if everything was okay, she’d shrug it off, avoiding your eyes.

“I’ve just been busy,” she’d say, forcing a smile that didn’t reach her honey-brown hues eyes. “Lots of assignments, you know?”

But you knew it wasn’t just assignments. The warmth that used to be in her voice when she talked to you had been replaced by something cold, something distant. She no longer confided you in her problems, no longer snuggled up towards you, and no longer wanted to spend time with you.

Your friends noticed too. Minji, Haerin, and Danielle would exchange glances when they saw the two of you together, the awkward tension between you crushing the room. They didn’t say anything directly, but their concern was evident in the way they tried to lighten the mood, filling the silence with jokes and stories. But it wasn’t the same.

One evening, after another failed attempt to talk to Hanni, you lay in your bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering where things went wrong. Your chest felt heavy, like you were carrying around a weight that you couldn’t shake off. All you wanted was to understand, to know why she was pulling away. But Hanni kept her distance, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the growing ache in your heart. Did she somehow, figure out your feelings for her? Did the thought of you liking her make her withdraw in disgust?

The dreams of her haunted you once again.

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A few week passed with little change. You decided to get some fresh air, clear your mind from the confusion that had been clouding it. Your shared flat was too quiet, and Hanni’s door was always shut, as if she wanted to keep you away from her as much as she could.

You went off campus, deciding to visit your cousin Jimin. She always knew how to help you make sense of things. As you sat in a small, cozy coffee shop, you poured your heart out to her, explaining how Hanni had changed, how you didn’t understand what had gone wrong.

Jimin listened patiently, her eyes full of empathy. “Maybe she’s going through something she doesn’t know how to talk about,” she suggested, placing her hand on yours in a comforting gesture.

Unbeknownst to you, Hanni had walked past the coffee shop at that very moment. She had heard you leave the dorm and decided to go for a walk herself.

Though she seemed nonchalant, the time away from you had taken a toll on her. Dark circles shadowed her eyes, and she couldn't eat. All she wanted was to crawl back into your arms and apologize for pulling away. You must be so confused about the sudden distance. She was confused herself. She had finally come to terms with the fact that the reason all her relationships and dates had failed was that she had feelings for you all along. A part of her wanted to confess, but a bigger part had convinced herself that she could get through this silly crush on you if she just avoided you, that it was just a phase.

But maybe, just maybe, you liked her too. This thought lingered in her mind, fueled by her friends who kept insisting that you had feelings for her.

She promised herself she would talk to you soon.

As she walked through the town, the autumn chill made her pull her jacket tighter. She couldn’t help but think of the times you would take off your scarf and wrap it around her because she was too cold, or the way you’d laugh at her pink nose and buy her a cup of hot coffee.

Just when she thought things couldn’t get worse, her heart sank as she saw you in a random coffee shop with another girl. The way the girl’s hand rested on yours twisted something painfully in her chest. She felt a sudden surge of jealousy, something she didn’t want to acknowledge. In her mind, she began to piece together a story that wasn’t true—that you had moved on, that you had found someone else, or that you never liked her in the first place.

After all, she was a girl who could never find love.

The rest of the day, Hanni couldn’t focus on anything. All she could think of was the pretty girl paying attention to everything you said, the way your eyes sparkled when you talked, and the sight of her hand in yours.

That night, Hanni took a pair of scissors and chopped her hair short, the long locks that you used to run your hands through falling to the floor. Snip after snip, she chopped off her hair the way you had broken her heart, piece by piece. She stared at herself in the mirror, her heart racing as she tried to convince herself that this was a fresh start, a way to move on from the confusing feelings she had for you.

The next day, when you saw Hanni with her new haircut, you were shocked. She looked different—fierce, determined, but there was something else behind her eyes, something that didn’t quite fit the image she was trying to project. You couldn’t help but wonder what had driven her to such a drastic change. She had always adored her long hair. Though you thought she looked just as good with short hair and choppy bangs, you thought she looked good in anything, to be honest.

“You cut your hair,” you said, trying to sound casual, but the surprise in your voice was evident.

“Yeah, felt like a change,” she replied curtly, not meeting your gaze.

“Why?”

“It’s really none of your business.” She snapped, instantly regretting it when she saw the hurt look on your face.

Hanni quickly grabbed her bag and left for her morning class, the one she had with you.

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The tension between you both only grew thicker. The silence that used to be comfortable now felt suffocating. Days passed without much exchange until one evening, something snapped. Hanni had had a terrible day and overheard NingNing, her classmate, talking about considering asking you out since you seemed to be open to dating now.

You were in the kitchen, preparing a late dinner, when Hanni walked in, her expression hard to read.

“Is something wrong?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Why would anything be wrong?” Hanni shot back, her tone sharper than you expected.

“I don’t know, Hanni. You’ve been acting strange, avoiding me. If I did something, can’t you just tell me?”

She clenched her fists, her breath quickening. “Maybe you should go ask the girl you were with at the coffee shop.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. You blinked, trying to process what she had just said. “The coffee shop? What coffee shop? What girl?”

“The one by the train station.” Hanni rubbed her forehead in frustration, trying to calm herself down. “Aren’t you dating her or something?”

Your eyes widened, and your mouth formed an O. You looked so stupid and adorable, and all Hanni wanted to do was punch you (or kiss you).

“Hanni, that was my cousin Jimin.”

Her eyes widened slightly, the color draining from her face as the realization dawned on her.

“Your cousin? I never knew you had a cousin.”

“Yeah, she was here on a business tri—”

Before either of you could say anything more, a loud thump echoed from the window. Hanni let out a scream, her scream scaring you more than the thump itself. The room fell silent, both of you turning toward the sound.

“What was that?” Hanni whispered, her voice shaky.

You moved toward the window, your heart pounding.

“Y/N!” Hanni hissed, reaching to pull you back. “Don’t go too close. It might be a serial killer.”

At that comment, you snorted and decided to walk forward.

Pulling the curtain aside, you saw a pigeon lying on the ground, its wing awkwardly bent.

“It’s just a pigeon,” you said, opening the window carefully.

“Get it out of here,” Hanni said, her voice rising with panic. She backed away, her fear of birds evident in the way she trembled.

“Y/N, I’m serious. Pigeons are covered in germs.”

Ignoring her protests, you gently brought the pigeon inside, placing it on the table.

“It’s hurt, Hanni. I’m calling Dani. She’ll know what to do.”

A few minutes later, Danielle arrived, her vet kit in hand. She worked quickly, soothing the frightened bird and bandaging its wing. Hanni watched from the doorway, her fear momentarily forgotten as she observed the tenderness with which you handled the situation. You looked at the pigeon so softly and caringly, while Hanni just thought it was the ugliest bird ever. It was balding, and just a flurry of gray and white spots.

“Thank you, Dani,” you said as she finished up, giving you a reassuring smile before she left.

“It’s never a problem, Y/N. Bring it to the clinical room tomorrow, and our professors can check it out.” Dani said cheerfully, her grin brightening the whole room.

“I’m glad you guys are talking again,” she giggled, before shutting the door behind her.

As the door closed, the room was quiet again, but the tension between you and Hanni remained. She looked at you, her eyes filled with regret, and for a moment, you thought she might say something. But she simply averted her gaze and focused her attention on the bird.

“That bird is not staying in my room,” she said, wrinkling her nose in disgust.

You shrugged, at least she was talking to you again. “I’ll keep it in mine then.”

“It’s one of the ugliest birds I’ve ever seen.” She walked a bit closer to the pigeon, which gave a weird squawk and turned its bald head to look at her.

“Yeah, it’s kinda ugly.”

The two of you stood in the middle of the living room awkwardly, looking anywhere except at each other.

“I’m going to name it Pablo,” Hanni said suddenly before walking back to her room.

You laughed at her randomness, feeling a bit better than you had in weeks.

The door to Hanni’s room was left half-open.

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Neither of you addressed the weird distance that had grown between you over the past few weeks. But Hanni seemed to be in a better mood, and you noticed that she was slowly warming up to you again. She even visited Pablo with you, despite her initial disgust toward birds. Sometimes, she would bring bird seeds for the pigeon to snack on or sing to him with her beautiful, sweet voice when she thought you couldn’t hear her.

You weren’t back to normal, but you were getting there.

Hanni, on the other hand, had a plan. After all the heartbreak and misunderstandings she had accidentally caused, she was determined to set things right. She couldn’t imagine herself dating anyone else but you, and the thought of you holding someone else made her heart ache.

So she was thinking of a way to confess to you. She wanted nothing more than to be in your arms again, but as the days blurred into weeks and winter’s snow melted away into spring, she still hadn’t mustered the courage.

That was until the day you were to release Pablo back into the wild.

It was spring, and Dani had said that Pablo’s wing was fully healed and that it was the perfect time for him to rejoin nature.

As you and Hanni said your goodbyes to Pablo (you teared up a bit, while Hanni, still wary of the bird, merely poked its now fluffy head with her forefinger tenderly), she insisted on tying a small pink ribbon on one of Pablo’s feet.

“Just in case he ever flies by, I’ll recognize him,” she explained with a shy smile.

You drove to a nearby park with Hanni, talking and laughing along the way, similar to what you used to do, but with a sense of shyness hanging in the air.

Hanni opened the cage to let him go.

The two of you watched as he took flight, joining a flock of pigeons in the trees.

Finally, deciding to brave yourself again, you asked, “Hanni, what did I do before to make you hate me?”

Hanni’s face fell, sadness washing over her as she realized how you’d been feeling.

“I never hated you. I hated myself.” She whispered.

“Why?”

Hanni took a deep breath, her voice trembling slightly as she spoke. “I was confused about how I felt about you. I like you, Y/N, and I was so scared of that. I was scared that you didn’t like me back or that maybe I wasn’t really... you know, into girls.”

You sighed, relief and understanding flooding your heart.

You reached down to grab her hand, squeezing it gently. “I’ve always liked you, Hanni. I just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Hanni’s eyes lit up with a mix of surprise and happiness. Her sweet face broke into a smile, the smile that she reserved only for you, and stood on her tiptoes.  She wrapped her arms around your neck, pulling you closer, so close that you could feel her breath on your lips. The smell of citrus on her skin was dizzying, in the best way.

The flock of pigeons took flight behind the two of you, their wings flapping in the background as if in celebration.

Hanni looked up at you, her voice soft and full of meaning. “I kept thinking... that’s us.”

You frowned, confused. “The pigeons?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, her smile growing. “We’re birds of a feather. We belong together.”

You chuckled, shaking your head in disbelief. “Hanni, you’re scared of birds.”

Hanni playfully rolled her eyes. “Just shut up and kiss me.”

As Hanni’s words hung in the air, a playful smirk danced on her lips, but her eyes shone with a deep, genuine vulnerability. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, the world around you fading into the background as the moment between you grew more intense. The light breeze rustled through the trees, carrying the soft scent of blooming flowers, but all you could focus on was her.

When your lips finally met, it was gentle at first—soft, tentative, as if testing the waters. But then, as if something clicked, the kiss deepened, full of the emotions you’d both been holding back.

Her hand slid up to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, while you wrapped your arms around her, feeling the warmth of her body against yours. The world seemed to fall away, leaving just the two of you in that moment.

When you finally broke apart, it was only because you both needed to breathe. Hanni’s forehead rested against yours, her eyes half- closed, a soft smile playing on her lips. Her cheeks were flushed, and there was a sparkle in her eyes that hadn’t been there before. You could feel her breath on your face, still quick and uneven, and you realized yours was the same.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for so long,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. Your thumb gently brushed a stray lock of hair from her face.

Hanni chuckled softly, her laugh full of relief and happiness.

“Me too,” she said, pressing a quick, sweet kiss to your lips before pulling back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes again. “Me too.”

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The start of the new semester filled you with a sense of excitement. It had been just a year since you and Hanni had gotten together, and everything seemed brighter.

One morning, as Hanni was drying her hair with a towel, a loud thump against the window startled her. She let out a small scream, her hands flailing in surprise and nearly poking her eye.

“Are you okay, babe?” you called out from your shared room, the term still feeling endearing and intimate.

Hurrying out of the room, you found Hanni standing by the window, her eyes wide with fear as she pointed at something outside.

You sighed and walked over to her, gently pulling the curtains aside. The scene outside was familiar yet baffling—an ugly pigeon with a pink ribbon tied around its leg was perched on the windowsill. But this time, there was something different: the pigeon had made a nest and was now sitting on a batch of eggs.

Hanni blinked in disbelief and turned to you, her confusion in her voice.

“Pablo is a girl???”

A bit rushed 🥶 Getting kind of rusty after not writing for a while

[levisjinchuriki]

forever yours - chapter 2

summary: satoru expresses his deep regret and desire to fix things, revealing his struggle with the thought of you moving on.

warning: more angst

word count: 2.9k

“you need to get out more” mei mei scolds over the phone. she, along with a dozen of your closest friends, has tried her best to get you back into the dating scene. your heart knew you weren’t ready for that big of a step, so you declined every time. you know their intentions are pure, and you appreciate it, but it doesn’t feel right. 

“i’m not ready” you sigh. it was still too early for you to think about the possibility of falling for someone again. you still had to move on from gojo, and even that was proving itself to be difficult. 

“i’m not saying you have to marry the guy”, she laughs. mei mei had taken the liberty of setting you up with someone in the corporate office. she claimed he was nice, handsome, rich– the only quality she really cared about. it was only wednesday, meaning you still had a few days to back out.

“just go out, let him pay for your dinner, maybe have some fun after…” she suggests teasingly. you groan at the suggestion.

“you owe it to yourself to have at least one night where you’re not sulking” she continues, her voice softening as she tries to coax you into giving yourself a break, even if just for one evening. 

you consider her words, letting them sink in. for the last six months, your life has revolved around taking care of Haru and feeling the heavy, persistent ache of your husband’s absence. each day has been a blur of routines—getting haru ready for school, managing meals, keeping the house in order—while your mind drifts to thoughts of what once was and what could have been.

nights are the hardest, the loneliness settling in as you replay old memories, wondering how things went so wrong. the vibrant parts of you, the ones that used to laugh, dream, and hope, have slowly dimmed, replaced by the overwhelming responsibility of being a single parent and the lingering pain of a love that didn’t last.

mei mei’s suggestion– although daunting– feels like a lifeline, a chance to reconnect with a piece of yourself that you’ve buried under the weight of loss and routine. but even as you consider it, a part of you hesitates, clinging to the familiar pain, unsure if you’re ready to let it go and take a step toward moving on.

“what’s the worst that can happen?” she asks, her tone playful. the question catches you off guard, and despite yourself, you laugh. there’s plenty that could go wrong—a bad date, awkward conversations, the possibility of feeling even more alone afterward—but all those things would pale in comparison to the hurt you’ve already endured.

you glance over at haru, who’s peacefully coloring on the floor in the living room, his little face focused and content. the sight of him, so innocent and untouched by the turmoil you’ve experienced tugs at your heart. he deserves a mother who isn’t weighed down by the past, someone who can find happiness again, even if it’s just a glimmer.

hesitantly, you agree to her offer. 

“alright, fine,” the words slip out before you can second-guess them. you sigh deeply, rubbing your eyes in disbelief, as if trying to convince yourself that you’re really going to go through with this. the thought of putting yourself out there again feels surreal, a mix of anxiety and reluctant anticipation bubbling up inside you. hopefully this small step is what you need to start finding yourself again.

–

saturday approaches quickly. with haru at his dad’s for the weekend you're left alone with your thoughts, and the immense anxiety brewing within you. it’s been so long since you’ve done something like this, and the uncertainty gnaws at you, making you question if you’re really ready. 

as the afternoon turns into evening, you reluctantly begin to get ready. as you slip into your dress the weight of the evening ahead presses down on you. you take a deep breath, forcing yourself to push through the nerves. you fight the urge to cancel at the last minute. one call, one text, and you could be free of this anxiety. but then you think of mei mei, of haru, and of the part of yourself that you’ve neglected for too long. you’ve survived worse; surely, you can survive one date.

you check your reflection once more, trying to see the person you used to be—the one who wasn’t afraid of new experiences, who could step into the unknown with confidence. it reflects a version of yourself that feels both familiar and distant. 

as you head towards your destination, your thoughts swirl in a chaotic mix of hope, fear, and uncertainty. you wonder what ryo– your date for the evening– will be like, whether the conversation will flow or falter, and if you’ll even be able to enjoy yourself. 

the restaurant is a cozy little spot downtown, and your date seems kind, attentive, and easy to talk to. mei mei was right– ryo is undeniably handsome. his dark, neatly styled hair complements his sharp features and his eyes are warm and kind as he greets you. he’s everything you should be looking for: stable, charming, and uncomplicated.

throughout the evening, ryo displays the manners of a true gentleman—holding doors open, making thoughtful conversation, and showing genuine interest in your conversation. his polite laughter and attentiveness make you feel valued, and his gestures are considerate, ensuring you’re comfortable and enjoying yourself.

despite all this, you can’t help but draw comparisons between him and gojo. ryo’s qualities are admirable, but they are different from what you were used to, making the evening feel like a bittersweet reminder of the intensity you once had in your life. his charm and politeness stand in stark contrast to gojo’s more magnetic, sometimes overwhelming presence. gojo’s eyes, with their piercing, electrifying blue, had a way of making you feel seen in a way that ryo’s gentle gaze doesn’t quite match. the confident, almost reckless allure of gojo’s personality—his playfulness, his intensity—seems to linger in your mind, making ryo’s more restrained demeanor feel somewhat subdued in comparison.

as the night winds down, ryo walks you to your car with a respectful and gentle demeanor, making sure you’re safe and comfortable. he smiles kindly as he expresses hope for another date. he doesn’t try to kiss you, which you appreciate. you’re not sure how you would have reacted if he had.

—-

meanwhile, haru was enjoying his weekend with his dad. he was his usual energetic self, bouncing from one activity to the next, filling the apartment with his bright laughter. satoru found himself reveling in the moments of pure joy, grateful that he had the time with his son. 

when they both settle on the couch after dinner, gojo turns on haru’s favorite movie, knowing he’ll fall asleep soon. 

“daddy” haru began, his voice muffled as he snuggles closer under the blanket they’re sharing. gojo hums. 

“do you think mommy is having fun on her date?”. the question hangs in the air, freezing satoru in place. he turns to haru, trying to keep his expression neutral even though his mind is racing. 

“what date?” he asks as calmly as he can manage. haru looks up at him, blinking innocently. he doesn’t even realize he’s sold you out. gojo isn’t entirely sure if he comprehends what a date between adults means. 

“the one she was talking about on the phone” he answers honestly. satoru feels his heart drop. he wasn’t aware that you had started to move on. it was always a possibility–being that you two were no longer together, but the thought still made his stomach turn.

he wonders if you’ve already found someone else and questions if haru has already been introduced to the man that could potentially replace him. despite all that, he remains calm on the outside, forcing a smile. 

“oh, i see. i’m sure we can ask her about it tomorrow” gojo offers.

haru seems satisfied with that response, snuggling back down under the blanket, oblivious to the internal battle raging within his father. gojo watches his son for a moment, the weight of the situation settling heavily on him. it’s real, and it’s a bitter pill to swallow.

—

gojo’s figure stands tall in your doorway as he drops off haru. he’s dressed casually in a plain black shirt and jeans, his white hair tousled as always. he carries an easy confidence that makes your heart skip a beat, even now.

you greet haru with a hug and a kiss on the cheek before setting him down so he can go play. he’s quick to run to the living room where you’ve already laid out his toys for him.

“hey,” gojo greets as he comes inside to set haru’s bags down. 

“hey,” you reply, trying to keep your tone neutral. “how was the weekend?”. 

“great”. there’s a casualness in his demeanor, but you can hear the tension beneath his tone.

you nod, stepping into the kitchen to prepare a snack for haru to distract you from the awkwardness. gojo follows close behind, he leans against the counter as his eyes quietly observe your every move. you can feel his gaze lingering on you, and it makes the air in the room feel heavier. he’s always had a way of looking at you that made you feel like you were the only person in the world, but today, there’s something different. 

“how was your date?” gojo blurts out. his voice lacks malice, but you’re aware he’s not genuinely interested in the details. 

your heart skips a beat. mei mei isn't the type to tell gojo about your date, being they’re not close. and you’re certain ryo doesn’t know gojo personally. professionally, sure, but not to the point of the two men engaging in casual conversation for something like that to be brought up.

“seems we have a little spy on our hands” he replies in amusement. you look down, feeling caught. you were sure haru was preoccupied with coloring during your conversation the other night. even if he did overhear you, you hadn’t expected him to repeat the information, especially not to his dad. 

“it wasn’t anything serious” you admit, feeling a wave of guilt wash over you, though you can’t quite place why. maybe it’s the unspoken tension between you, or the fact that even though you’re no longer together and discussing your personal life with him feels strangely intimate, almost like a betrayal of the past you shared. or maybe it’s because you knew you weren’t ready to put yourself out there in the first place. 

gojo doesn’t respond immediately. instead, he watches you, his expression unreadable. the silence between you stretches out, filled with all the things neither of you are willing to say. his eyes betray a flicker of something deeper—disappointment, perhaps, or maybe even hurt.

“you don’t owe me an explanation. we’re… separated, and you have every right to see other people”. his words catch you off guard. you look at him with furrowed brows, not expecting that sort of answer. you thought for sure he’d be mad. instead, he stands before you with an expression that’s almost too calm, too accepting. there’s no bitterness in his voice, no trace of the jealousy you were bracing for. in its place is a sadness in his eyes that tugs at something deep within you.

“but I’d be lying if I said it didn’t bother me.” he admits. the confession hangs between you, raw and unguarded. it’s a glimpse into his vulnerability, a side of him that’s rarely seen. you’re struck by the honesty of his words, and the impact they have on you is immediate. the realization that he’s still affected by your decisions, that there’s a part of him that’s struggling with the separation, hits you hard.

you look away, certain that your resolve will break under his gaze. 

“satoru, we both knew this was going to happen eventually. we’re trying to move on with our lives”. you’re not sure if you’re trying to remind him or convince yourself. maybe a bit of both.

he steps closer, his presence enveloping you in that overwhelming, familiar way that makes it hard to breathe. 

“i don’t want to move on from you,” he says, his voice low and almost desperate. “i don’t want to think about you with someone else”. you can feel the intensity of his gaze. the rawness in his voice shakes you. the distance you’ve been trying to maintain suddenly feels fragile. he’s the only man in the world who has the power to break you like this, to make you question the choices you’ve made and the path you’re on. his emotions pierce through the defenses you’ve built, leaving you grappling with the enormity of the feelings you still have for him.

your breath catches in your throat. this was what you’ve feared—what you’ve tried so hard to avoid. falling back into him. 

“satoru, we can’t” you say, the words coming out more pleading than you intend.

“i know,” he replies, stepping closer to you. this is closer than you’ve been in a long time. “but i can’t just let you go. thinking of you with someone else—it’s killing me.”. gojo takes your hand, running his thumb along your ring finger—now bare. the simple gesture feels heavy with meaning, a reminder of the life and love you once shared. it feels like so long ago now.

his admission is raw, and the pain in his eyes mirrors the turmoil inside you. the gentle touch of his hand, the sincerity in his voice, makes it hard to maintain your emotions. you want to be strong, to keep the walls you’d built firmly in place, but he always had a way of dismantling them with just a few words.

“we tried to make it work before and look where we are now. we can’t keep living in the past” you whisper, feeling tears prick at the corners of your eyes.

gojo shakes his head, stepping even closer. his gaze is intense, a mix of regret and determination. if he’s honest with himself, he knows he didn’t put in the effort to mend the relationship as much as he should have. he was always so consumed by work, pushing you to the side until it became unbearable for you. the realization that he neglected you has weighed heavily on him the last six months.

he understands that he might not deserve another chance or your trust, but he’ll try his hardest to prove otherwise. he wants to be a family again. he didn’t fully appreciate what he had until it was gone, taken away by his own doing. the realization hits him hard: he had taken the stability and love of his family for granted, and now he’s left with the painful understanding of how much he truly values it.

“i’m willing to do whatever it takes. just… don’t give up on us”.

you feel a whirlwind of emotions. there’s a deep ache in your chest, a painful tug of longing that his presence and words stir within you. the vulnerability in his eyes and the sincerity of his voice pull your heart, making it difficult to ignore the love that still lingers.

at the same time, there’s an intense level of fear. the weight of the past hurts and the uncertainty of whether things can truly change makes you hesitant and guarded. 

“satoru…” you’re not sure what to say. it was a big request and involved so many risks. too many to just blindly agree to. 

a tear slips down your cheek. gojo’s gaze remains steady, his eyes filled with a mixture of anxiety and tenderness. he reaches out to cup your cheek, gently wiping away the tear with the pad of his thumb. you have to resist the natural urge to lean into his touch. it’s bittersweet being held by him. 

“i don’t want to lose you” he murmurs. “i can’t lose you”. the desperation in his voice breaks your heart and makes it hard to stay indifferent. his eyes, shimmering with unspoken pain and hope, seem to reach into your soul.

“there’s so much to talk about” you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper. “i need time”. the decision wasn’t just about you or satoru. it was about haru, and the life you want to build for him. you had been so determined to move on, to create a safe, stable environment for your son, but maybe there was a way to do that with satoru by your side. 

gojo’s expression softens, a mixture of relief and hope crossing his features. he nods slowly, understanding the weight of your request. he’s happy you’re at least willing to think it over. it’s a small, but significant victory. 

“i’ll wait,” he says, his voice gentle but firm. “i'll give you all the time you need”.

the words hang between you, a promise wrapped in vulnerability and patience. you nod, grateful for his understanding yet overwhelmed by the enormity of the decision before you. the weight of the past six months, the effort to create a stable life for haru, and the complexities of your relationship with satoru all swirl together, creating a storm of emotions that you need to navigate carefully.

the path ahead is uncertain, filled with potential for both joy and heartache. but for now, you allow yourself a moment to breathe, to collect your thoughts, and to prepare for the conversations and decisions that lie ahead.

---

ch 3>

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[inumaki-i]

Pikachu LEGO set || Denki Kaminari

warning: short? — fluff .

You roamed through the store’s children’s section, looking for something your boyfriend might like. The aisles were filled with an array of toys, from action figures to plush animals, and the colorful boxes and packaging created a vibrant and inviting atmosphere. You scanned the shelves thoughtfully, picking up a few items here and there. Soon, a Pikachu LEGO set caught your eye. It was perfect. Pikachu’s bright yellow color and cheerful expression reminded you so much of your boyfriend. You grabbed the box, a smile spreading across your face. As you headed to the checkout, you noticed a LEGO flower bouquet set. It was beautiful, and you thought it would be a wonderful project to work on together. You added it to your purchases and made your way home.

“I’m home,” you called out as you walked through the door, but there was no response. You went upstairs to find your boyfriend fast asleep. He lay stretched out on the bed, his hair tousled against his forehead, his chest rising and falling rhythmically with each soft snore. The sight made you smile. You walked over and gently shook him. The yellow-haired boy groaned and slowly opened his eyes, blinking sleepily at you. “You’re home,” he mumbled, his voice heavy with sleep. You nodded and handed him the bag of LEGOs.

“For me? What is it…” he said, his curiosity piqued as he rummaged through the bag. When he pulled out the Pikachu LEGO set, his eyes lit up with excitement. The tiredness vanished from his face in an instant. He beamed at you and pulled you onto the bed, wrapping you in a tight hug. “Denks, let go of me, silly,” you laughed, squirming in his embrace. He peppered your cheek with kisses before finally letting you go and sitting up, his energy clearly endless.

“You wanna build them together?” he asked, his voice filled with happiness. There was something wonderfully childlike about his excitement, and it warmed your heart. It was as if, in moments like these, you were helping him rediscover the joys of his childhood, and you cherished that. “Of course, Kam. Let’s go to the table,” you said, leading the way downstairs.

You both settled on the floor around the coffee table, surrounded by the colorful LEGO pieces. He was brimming with energy, a difference from the groggy, sleepy boy he had been just moments before. Watching him eagerly sort through the pieces, you couldn’t help but smile. His enthusiasm was contagious, and you felt a wave of affection for him wash over you.

[liorae]

Anniversary to Forget ୨୧ 𝓛ee 𝓗eeseung

pair: bf!heeseung x fem!reader | genre: angst, heartbreak | warning(s): heartbreak lol | wc: 663 | synopsis: your boyfriend breaks up with you on your anniversary.

You sit at a beautifully decorated table in a restaurant that looks like it was taken straight out of a dream. The soft glow of candlelight dances across the room, casting a warm, romantic ambiance. The delicate scent of roses mingles with the rich aroma of gourmet dishes being served around you. Your heart flutters with anticipation, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you glance at the empty seat across from you, imagining Heeseung’s familiar face breaking into that charming smile.

The minutes tick by, each second feeling like an eternity. You check your phone again, willing it to light up with a message from him. Maybe he's running late, stuck in traffic, or caught up with a last-minute errand. But the minutes turn into hours, and the seat remains empty, the silence of your phone growing louder with each passing moment.

The waiter approaches, his expression a blend of sympathy and professionalism as he refills your glass of water for the third time. You offer him a tight smile, fighting the lump forming in your throat. You stare at your phone, the screen blank and mocking, your heart sinking with every passing second. The vibrant hum of the restaurant fades into a dull roar in your ears as your mind races through the possibilities.

Then, it happens. Your phone buzzes, the sound sharp and jarring in the heavy silence. You almost drop it in your haste to see his name flashing on the screen. Relief washes over you as you swipe to open the message, but that relief is short-lived.

"I can't do this anymore. I'm sorry."

Six words. Six words that shatter your world. The meaning behind them sinks in slowly, like a knife twisting deeper and deeper with each turn. Your heart feels like it's being ripped apart, piece by piece, as the reality of the situation hits you. Heeseung isn't coming. He doesn't want to be here with you, not now, not ever again.

The tears you've been holding back spill over, sliding down your cheeks unchecked. The restaurant around you seems to blur, the happy couples and their laughter turning into a cruel reminder of what you've lost. You feel like you're drowning in a sea of heartbreak, every breath a struggle against the weight of your sorrow.

You clutch your phone tightly, staring at those six words, hoping, praying that this is some kind of sick joke. But deep down, you know it's not. You know that this is real, that Heeseung, the person you've spent your entire high school years with, the person you've almost finished college with, has fallen out of love with you.

The pain is overwhelming, a tidal wave that crashes over you, leaving you gasping for air. Your mind replays every moment, every memory, trying to pinpoint where it all went wrong. Was it something you said? Something you did? The questions swirl in your mind, unanswered and relentless.

You force yourself to stand, your legs shaky and unsteady. You leave the restaurant, the beautiful setting now tainted with the bitter taste of heartbreak. The cool night air hits your face, mingling with the tears still streaming down. You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but the pain remains, a constant ache that you know will stay with you for a long time.

As you walk away, you can't help but wonder how you will move on from this, how you will piece your heart back together when it feels like it's been shattered beyond repair. The night feels endless, the future uncertain, and all you can do is take it one step at a time, hoping that someday, the pain will lessen, and you will find a way to heal.

[bungalowbear]

celebrated

geto suguru x reader, wc: 2k

cw: nudity, fingering, reader described having breasts and a vagina, reader described brushing her hair, virgin!reader, slight power dynamic, brief talk of religion, MDNI

a/n: this is a continuation of pleased. i might write one more part if anyone’s interested. happy birthday, sugu-chan!

Today is a blessed day. Today the temple celebrates the birth of Geto Suguru.

He sits at the head of the row of connected low dining tables, surrounded on both sides by his family of shamans. Each of them laughs and smiles as they recount memorable moments they’ve had with their benevolent patriarch. But none appear as content as the man himself.

Geto sits with one arm propped up on his knee, cheek resting on his fist as he watches on with a fond expression. You admire the gentle curve of his smile when Mimiko quietly offers him the last piece of tempura. He accepts it with thanks and continues to watch over the others.

You and the other temple maidens make sure food and drink flows freely as the celebration continues long after the sun goes down. You light the lanterns at the edge of the room while the others collect the dinner plates from the tables. At the serving cart, you gather a bottle of sake and wait for the appropriate time to approach the gathering again. A large cake is brought into the room and placed in front of the guest of honor.

The candles are lit and then then room is filled with the voices of his family as they sing. The warm glow of the room softens some of Geto’s sharper edges, but his eyes still cut like glass when they glance up at you. Leaning forward, he maintains eye contact from across the room until his eyes slowly shut and he blows out the candles.

You wonder what he wished for.

Excited chatter resumes and you step forward when the cake is cut to reveal the vibrant green interior of the matcha flavored cake. You are already at his side when Geto is served the first slice. You bend at the waist to refill his drink when you feel a slight tug on the sleeve of your kosode. Your eyes cut down to where two lithe fingers play with the edge of the fabric.

Geto looks up at you, thanks you in a voice you’ve come to know quite intimately, then smirks when a soft gasp leaves your parted lips.

You bow your head, regaining yourself as you move back to stand against the wall, and tremble with anticipation at his unspoken promise.

—

The celebration continues late into the night. After you help the other maidens clear out the dining hall you retire to your room and prepare for bed. You share the room with one other maiden who is already fast asleep. But you’re wide awake and sitting at the window as you guide your brush along your hair, staring up at the moon and wondering if perhaps you misunderstood Geto’s intentions. Is this where your night will end?

Your answer comes when there’s a knock at the door. You set down your hairbrush and quietly approach the door. You slide it open a few inches to reveal Manami waiting in the hallway. The presence of Geto’s personal assistant is all you need to know.

“He’s waiting for you.”

It’s the only thing she says before she turns and leaves. Your stomach flutters as you step out of your room, careful to close the door as silently as possible.

Your bare feet pad along the wooden floors, carrying you through familiar halls until you arrive outside a familiar room. You lift your knuckles to knock on the door, a light tap that prompts the sound of approaching footsteps on the other side. The fluttering in your stomach turns to a wild buzz when the door slides open.

Geto is dressed in a yukata, just as you are. The dark blue fabric nearly obscures the long black tresses that fall freely from his head and frame his face beautifully. His fox like eyes take you in. No matter how many times he’s looked at you this way, with unabashed desire, you have to fight the urge your arms have to shield your body. You know there is nothing to be afraid of. Not when all he’s ever done is take good care of you.

“Hello there,” he says, a sly smile gracing his lips.

“Hello, Geto-sama.” You bow your head respectfully. “May I come in?”

“Of course.”

He steps aside and you feel his eyes on you as you enter. The door shuts behind you, encasing the two of you together in the room. The hum of the space heater in the corner is a faint distraction in the sudden silence. Your body is slow to adjust to the warmer temperature of the room, but a rush of heat overcomes you when Geto suddenly takes your hand and leads you toward the bed.

For a moment, neither of you speak. You simply lay on your sides facing each other, chest to chest as the heat of your bodies mingles together. Geto’s large hand rests on your hip while your smaller one is on his cheek, thumb gently stroking lines beneath his eye. He leans into your touch and you grow bolder. Your hand drifts down his neck and slips beneath the panel of his yukata. The hard plane of his chest is softened by smooth, warm flesh that burns beneath your fingertips.

“Did you enjoy yourself tonight?” Your voice is low, not wanting to disturb the quiet of the room.

Geto moves his hand lower to caress your thigh. “I did.”

“I’m glad.” Your brows pinch together as you recall a thought you had earlier. “May I ask you something?”

He nods.

“When you blew out your candles…what did you wish for?”

Geto arches a brow. “How do you know I made a wish?”

“You had this look on your face,” you explain. “Like you really wanted something.”

Geto chuckles and you feel heat rise to your cheeks. Were you mistaken? Is he mocking you? He has been known to be a bit cruel with his teasing.

“Do you really want to know?” he asks.

“Yes.”

Geto brings his mouth to the side of your head, and whispers into your ear, “I wished for you.”

“M-me?” Your voice cracks and you pull back slightly.

“I wished for you to give yourself, all of yourself, to me.”

Your ears are ringing. You couldn’t have heard him correctly. You were a temple maiden, a descendant of a miko who lived many centuries ago, brought here into this Buddhist temple for the sole reason that your talents would be cultivated to their fullest potential. And one of the requirements was that you remain abstinent. The rules were never clear on whether you had to practice true abstinence or if you could take certain liberties with satisfying the pleasure you sometimes felt. The activities you participate in with Geto at night were only done with your hands or your mouth. You’ve rubbed yourself on him before and he’s touched you over your clothing, but you never let him touch your most intimate parts with his bare hands.

“Give…myself?”

“I want every part of you,” Geto purrs, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you closer. You feel something hard press against your thigh. “I have for a while now.”

“But you know I can’t. Not until the ritual, and even then—”

“I’ll take care of you.” His promise is a whisper. It’s a gentle sound that makes you place all of your trust in him. “Give yourself to me and you’ll have me in return.”

You’re both so close. There’s no escaping the intensity of his gaze as he waits patiently for your answer.

“I can’t.”

Dropping his forehead onto yours, Geto shuts his eyes.

“Such a strong will.” He sighs. Deep and long. “I’d loathe it if it weren’t the thing I admire most about you.”

Your hand clutches at the front of his yukata. “I’m sorry, Geto-sama.”

“Don’t be. It’s not fair for me to ask this of you just to satisfy my own desire.” He opens his eyes, and instead of the disappointment you expect to see, there’s only fondness. “We’ve made our plans. It’s best if we stick to them.”

“It’s not quite what you were hoping for,” you pause, voice becoming timid, “but I’d like to try something new.”

“What would that be?”

“I want you to touch me,” you confess. “Touch me like how I touch you.”

His pupil grow large at your words. “You mean…”

“I want you to use your fingers. Until the time is right, this is the only way you can have me. Is that alright?”

Geto’s answer is a swift pressing of his lips to yours. When he pulls back his eyes shine with glee, relief, and a little bit of hunger. You gasp as his fingers work quickly to undo the knot at your waist, then slowly pull away the panels of your yukata to expose yourself to him.

He plants his palm over the bare flesh of your stomach. You hear him swallow as his touch travels upward to take hold of your breast. Geto kneads the soft flesh, pulling breathy moans from you when he takes your nipple between two fingers. The nub pebbles under his touch.

You lean in to hide your face in his neck when his hand smoothes down your torso. His touch leaves a trail of electricity within you that set you alight. You think it can’t get anymore powerful until he’s between your legs, fingers gliding along your wet folds. Your body jolts when a single finger teases at your entrance.

“Geto-sama.” You wrap your arm around his neck, pressing your face harder against him. “Please, be gentle.”

“There’s no need to worry, pet.” Geto’s other arm snake beneath you and splays his arm across your back, keeping you trapped within his hold. “Don’t I always take good care of you?”

He doesn’t wait for your response before pushing two fingers inside you. You whimper at the intrusion. The stretch is a foreign sensation and you squirm at the discomfort. But the more he moves his fingers in and out, the better it feels. Soon your whimpers turn to whines and your fingers clutch at the back of his head, tangling themselves in his dark mane. Your breathing is labored as you feel a knot in your stomach tightening.

“You’re doing so well,” Geto coos. He curls his fingers, striking at a spot you find strangely satisfying, and you can’t suppress a moan. “That’s it.”

His voice coaxes you to ride the sweltering wave of heat that builds higher and higher. He carries you to the very top and doesn’t stop until you cum around his fingers with a cry of his name on lips.

You come down from the feeling a little light headed, noticing this feels much more intense compared to what you’ve done before. You think you like that. Especially because you feel so much closer to Geto than you ever have.

You loosen your grip on his hair and he nudges his nose against your cheek. You whimper when he removes his fingers from within you. You turn your head when Geto brings them in front of your face. Your eyes examine the glossy residue that covers his index and middle fingers. You squeak in surprise when he takes them into his mouth. He must enjoy the taste of you because he hums in satisfaction as he licks away the last traces of your essence.

“You taste just as sweet as I imagined,” he muses.

Geto brings the same hand down to cup your face. You can smell the lingering scent of your arousal and it makes your lower half throb. He moves in close and you can feel his clothed member press against you, stiff and unattended.

“It isn’t what I wished for,” he presses a kiss to your forehead, “but it surely is a wonderful present.”

It’s past midnight, and technically no longer the third, but you let the words flow out of you regardless.

“Happy birthday, Geto-sama.”

i do not have a taglist. please follow @bungalowbear-archive and turn on notifications.

[adrealucia]

New Beginnings

Summary: After relocating to the picturesque town of Puerto Lobos in Mexico, you quickly realize that your car is in dire need of repair. With little knowledge of local mechanics, a friendly neighbor recommends you visit Diaz’s Garage, run by the talented Sean Diaz. Sean, a hardworking and kind-hearted mechanic, welcomes you warmly. As he works on your car, you strike up a conversation, discovering that Sean and his brother Daniel moved to Puerto Lobos a few years ago, seeking peace and a new beginning after a tumultuous past. Sean’s dedication to his work is evident as he skillfully repairs your car. Meanwhile, Daniel, now sixteen, balances school and helps out around the garage. He occasionally joins in the conversation, displaying his sharp wit and curiosity about your life and experiences. As the days pass, you find yourself drawn to the garage, not just for the impeccable car service, but for the genuine companionship you find with Sean and Daniel. You start to learn more about their past, their dreams, and the close-knit bond that holds them together. In return, you share your own stories, finding solace and understanding in their company. tags: post Blood Brothers ending, Sean Diaz x Reader, might contain smut in future chapters, lots of fluff, romantic fluff, overall just fucking wholesome, obviously mentions Daniel quite often, sfw in the beginning, maybe nsfw in the future idk

Chapter one

The dusty road leading to Puerto Lobos was bathed in the golden light of the late afternoon sun. As you navigated your car through the narrow streets, the vibrant colors of the town's buildings and the sound of distant waves crashing against the shore offered a warm welcome. You had moved to this small coastal town in Mexico seeking a fresh start, a place where the past could be left behind and new memories could be made. It wasn’t easy getting here, but it was all worth it in the end. Just the thought of your beautiful small house right at the beach makes you feel accomplished and happy all over again. 

But today, your thoughts were dominated by the sputtering sound coming from your car. To be completely fair your car had gone a long way, all the way down from Washington to here, Puerto Lobos. With a frustrated sigh, you pulled over to the side of the road, glancing at the smoke wafting from the hood. Well, this certainly didn’t take very long. You have been having these kinds of problems with your car for a whole while now, but it’s never been this bad before. A friendly local had mentioned a reliable mechanic in town—Diaz’s Garage. You checked the address scribbled on a piece of paper “Oh that’s actually not far at all” you whispered to yourself and set off on foot, hoping that the mechanic could work his magic.

The garage was a modest but bustling place, filled with the scent of oil and the clinking sounds of tools. Inside, a tall young man with dark hair and a focused expression was working on a vintage truck. He looked up as you approached, wiping his hands on a rag and offering a welcoming smile. At first, you do not notice it but giving a closer look you notice that he is missing an eye. You wonder what had happened to him? 

"Hey there," he greeted, his eyes kind yet weary. "Can I help you with something?"

Relieved that he did not start speaking Spanish you gave him a thankful smile and you explained your car trouble, he nodded, introducing himself as Sean Diaz. As he listened, you couldn't help but notice the way he moved with quiet confidence, every action precise and efficient. It was clear that this garage was not just his workplace but his sanctuary.

You led him to your car, and with a few deft movements, he began diagnosing the problem. "Looks like it’s going to need some work, but nothing I can’t handle," he said reassuringly. "Why don’t you come back in a couple of hours? I should have it running smoothly by then." You sigh internally, it’s not like you thought that he would fix your car on the spot but you also did not really make a plan on what to do now. For a second you look around noticing you only ever drive through this part of down and have never actually explored it. Maybe you could find a nice place to sit down and have some food? 

“Thank you so much, I would have been totally lost if your shop hadn’t been near.” Thankfully you smile up at him again. It’s so good to finally meet someone who is actually fluent in English, even though practicing your Spanish can be fun as well. Usually, when you try to talk to natives they look at you all smiley and kind and the next thing they are doing is getting out their phone to open up the translator app. It’s kind of hard practicing your language skills when no one actually wants to try to communicate with you. But you are learning, just not as fast as you expected to, and since you already had a few years of Spanish classes in school you know most of the basics. You look up at the mechanic again and tilt your head a little bit to the side. “Say.. is there a good place for food around here? …that I can obviously reach by foot, that is.” He nods enthusiastically and gives you a reassuring tilt of his lips, a very kind smile. “Yea, actually just around the corner there is a little restaurant, if you don’t know about it I am sure many people would miss it. But when we moved here first this woman saved our asses. She doesn’t speak much English but just tell her I said hi and I bet she will cook you something very nice.” This actually sounds very nice you think to yourself and reach out your hand to give him a polite handshake. “Okay well thank you for the recommendation and also for trying to fix my car.” He accepts your handshake and chuckles lightly. “No worries and oh this should be easy to fix, gimme like let’s say two and a half hours and you can come back to a nice and well-working car.” 

“Alright see you in two and a half hours then.” You wave your hand as you are saying goodbye to him and turn around to walk the other way. The streets of Puerto Lobos were alive with activity—children playing, street vendors selling vibrant fruits and handmade crafts, and the distant sound of a song coming from speakers out of one of these stores adding a festive backdrop to the scene. As you wandered, you felt the first inklings of belonging in this charming town. He told you that the little restaurant was just around the corner but honestly as much as you were looking for it you could not find it. Well, Mr. Diaz also mentioned that if you didn’t know that it’s there you would surely miss it. You knew about these types of Restaurants where it kind of almost looked like you would walk into somebody’s actual home, so you decided to try and look around as if you were a native to this city. Which in theory was easy, but actually doing it didn’t change the fact that you are in fact not a fucking native. Suddenly the smell of fresh herbs and spices caught your nose and you looked around trying to figure out where this smell came from. After looking around for a while you actually found a little house that grasped your interest. The door was wide open and from the outside, you could see a tiny woman cooking something up. “That must be it.” 

Okay, now it would be time to pray that this woman would also actually understand what you want from her. “Please please, school just pay out this once.” you form your hands into a little prayer position as you walk up to the door. 

“Hola.” You say stepping into the little restaurant. The woman looks up at you and goes back to whatever she was doing before. Okay… she definitely knows that you are not from around here, so now you gotta use your poor Spanish skills, your hands, and your feet. This is going to be fucking embarrassing. 

“¿Puedo conseguir algo de comer aquí?” (can I get something to eat?) You ask while trying to do your best at pantomime. “Well, Mr. Diaz said you wouldn’t understand any English but he told me to say hi to you.” you felt like a total idiot talking English to this woman who obviously has no clue what you are trying to tell her. Though, as you say the name Diaz her head perks up and suddenly a lot of words that you do not understand are leaving her mouth at the speed of light. At first, you are a little unsure if she is mad and seconds away from kicking you out, but then she gives you a big smile and gestures to you to sit down. “Friend? Sean Diaz?” She asks with a heavy accent but you have no problem understanding that one word and the name of the mechanic. “Ah, Sí…” you say and nod your head while sitting down on one of the tables. She continues to speak Spanish but she doesn’t even really seem like she is trying to talk to you, more like she is talking to herself, so you are also not really trying to answer her. 

It doesn’t even take her long before she places a beverage on your table and makes a gesture that shows you should wait some more. It is a hot day so you thank her enthusiastically and take one sip of the drink that immediately helps against your dry throat. You have absolutely no clue what’s in this drink but you couldn’t bother less, this was fucking good. 

A few more minutes passed and the lady set down three big ass plates in front of you. Oh, how are you supposed to finish all of that? 

You ate as much as you could and thanked the woman like five times because Sean Diaz was right. She is a hell of a good cook. In the end, you couldn’t finish all three plates and had a bunch of leftovers, however, you decided it might be nice to bring these leftovers with you back to the Diaz shop. That would be nice of you and totally not weird right? 

Now just how were you going to ask her for bags? 

It took some time but in the end, you just had to mention Sean’s name one more time, probably paid her way too much money and somehow you ended up with a bag and even more food. She put some dessert into the bag as well, even though you tried to stop her but honestly, you wouldn’t have wanted to put up a fight against this lady. 

 When you returned to the garage, the sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows across the floor. Sean was just finishing up with your car, and beside him stood a younger boy with a mischievous grin. He was animatedly talking about his day at school, and Sean listened with the patience and attention of someone who deeply cared.

"Hey, you’re back…just in time," Sean called out, noticing your approach. "This is my brother, Daniel."

Daniel turned to you, his eyes sparkling with curiosity. "Hi! Sean fixed your car already? He's really good at this stuff."

You smiled, introducing yourself and thanking Sean for his help. “You found the restaurant?” he asked, smiling sheepishly down at you. For a second you could feel yourself blush, but why? “Yea took me some time… also I hope this is not weird or anything but I brought you my leftovers plus additional dessert. This lady must really love you because as soon as I said your name she stuffed these cakes into the bag.” Daniels’s mouth opened wide as he walked towards you, eyes fixated on the bag. “Woah I love Mrs. Perez and this is so kind of you because you must know my brother is a horrible cook.” Sean laughed so loud and kind-heartedly it seemed to warm your insides. They really seem to be nice people. “Well, she knows I am a bad cook, that's why she filled up this whole bag.” his loud laughing swelled down to a little chuckle. “Well… that’s very kind of you… actually, I haven’t asked your name yet, have I?” 

You shake your head and give him a reassuring smile, you couldn’t care less right now if this man asked you for your name because he already fixed your car and he made sure you got a shit ton of very good food. “Oh, I am (Y/N)” You set the bag down on a nearby table and watch as Daniel immediately goes to grab it and rummages through the bag. “Oh look Sean, she gave us Tarta de Queso!” 

You and Sean both couldn’t help but laugh a little at Daniel, even though he looked around sixteen to seventeen he still seemed to be very excited when it came to dessert. “Well, Daniel I think it would only be nice to share some of this cake with (Y/N) since she is the one responsible for our dinner.” He pointed at the cake and then over to you. You wouldn’t have brought it up but you also couldn’t lie, you really wanted to try a piece of this really delicious-looking cake. Daniel sighed but chuckled a bit “That only seems fair.” 

“Now I am going to pack this piece of cake up for you and then we will let you go, I am sure you have somewhere to be.” Said Sean as he took the bag and left you and Daniel alone in the garage. You and Daniel made some polite small talk, mostly talking about past experiences with the lady - or Mrs. Perez as you learned - from the restaurant. 

Sean didn’t take long and came back to hand you your very own bag filled with some cake and also a few more pastries. He gave you a little wink and placed a finger to his lips, showing you to keep quiet probably because of Daniel. He also handed you the keys to your now-repaired car. "It should be as good as new. If you have any more trouble, just come by." “Thank you so so much, I wouldn’t know what I would have done without you today.” You sigh and grab your keys. “How much do I owe you for this?” You gesture to the car, knowing that you most definitely don’t have enough cash on you. Sean just chuckled and shook his head. “Ah don’t worry the first time is on the house… also you brought us this whole bag of food.” 

Your eyes widen in disbelief, on the house? Wow, these people really are kind. “Oh, this is…” You’re lost for words for a second. “This is really really kind of you thank you so much.” 

“Oh, don’t worry, I like to help people out. Now if you ever need something just let us know.” He said as you slowly got into your car, nodded, and smiled up big at him. You wave to him and Daniel goodbye as you gently drive out of the garage. 

As you drove away, you couldn’t help but feel a connection forming. In this new place, amidst the beauty and simplicity of Puerto Lobos, you had found not just a skilled mechanic but potential friends in Sean and Daniel Diaz. Little did you know, this encounter was just the beginning of a journey that would intertwine your lives in ways you could never have imagined. authors note: omg okay I am so fucking nervous to post this, but also kind of excited!! I have been meaning to write a fic for quite some time now and I am so so happy to continue this story. If you've made it this far tysm and ily <3 I hope you liked the first chapter of my new story :) I already published it on ao3 (this was so tough to figure out since I never uploaded it on ao3 before) and I am still debating whether or not to post it on Wattpad as well. Anyway even though I am working on this fic now my requests are still open! might take me some time to finish them now, but I am so happy to be a part of this community :) <333

[cheynovak]

Echoes and Shadows - Part 6  

Soldier Boy x F/Reader Y/N            

Warnings:  Fights, Dead, mentioning miscarriage, blood, hurt, fluff ...  

Side note: English isn’t my first language     

Words:  3300 

*Does not follow the boys storyline * 

-- 

--      

In the 1950, Soldier Boy had to train a train a young girl supe named Y/N, she had a "nice girl next door" persona. Soldier Boy hated it at first, until they started to work together, he seemed to start to like this kid.    

Now years later, after all the tragic events, Y/N has her memory back. She seems to forgiven Ben for holding back the important piece of information on her own health. But now Ben seems to deal with his demons from the past.  

-- 

The rain drummed steadily against the windowpane, a soothing rhythm that contrasted sharply with the turmoil in the room. Y/N watched Ben staring out the window. His silhouette was rigid, shoulders tense beneath the weight of unspoken thoughts.  

Ever since they had returned from their mission to eliminate Mindstorm, he had been like this: silent, brooding, a far cry from the confident, brash man. She couldn’t help but wonder what Mindstorm had said to him. What words could have cut so deep that Ben felt compelled to end the man’s life in such a brutal fashion?  

The questions burned in her mind, but Ben offered no answers. She reached out, her hand caressing his shoulder in a gesture meant to comfort. His muscles were stone beneath her touch, unyielding and cold. He didn’t react, didn’t even seem to notice her presence.  

Butcher and Hughie sat in the living room, watching them through the door, concern etched into their faces.  

Hughie, always the more sensitive of the two, was the first to speak when Y/N walked in the room. "Has he ever been like this before?" he asked, his voice tinged with worry.Y/N shook her head slowly, her eyes never leaving Ben’s haunted form.  

"In the seventy years I've known him, I've never seen him like this." Butcher frowned, his usual bravado tempered by the situation. "What the bloody hell did Mindstorm say to him?" Y/N wished she had an answer. She wished she could reach into Ben’s mind and pull out the poison that was eating away at him.  

But all she had were questions and a growing sense of dread. She moved back to him, her hand sliding down his arm, hoping to break through the barrier that seemed to have risen between them. "Ben," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the rain. "Talk to me. Please." 

For a moment, it seemed as if he might respond. His body shifted slightly, a flicker of recognition in his eyes. But then the moment passed, and he returned to his silent vigil, staring out into the storm as if it held the answers he couldn’t bring himself to voice.  

Ben finally turned away from the window and looked into Y/N’s eyes. She was taken aback by the sight, the once vibrant, fiery green eyes now held a mere flicker of their former intensity, threatening to dim entirely.  

Without a word, he turned and walked away, retreating to his bedroom and locking the door behind him. Y/N sighed heavily, her heart heavy with worry and confusion. She moved to the couch and sat next to Hughie, who looked at her with a mixture of concern and curiosity. 

"How are you holding up?" Hughie asked gently. "Now that you have your memories back?" Y/N took a deep breath, struggling to find the right words. "I don’t know how to feel, Hughie. It’s intense. Having all those memories flood back... it's good in a way, but it’s overwhelming. I want to hate Ben for all the pain he caused me."  

Butcher, who had been pacing back and forward but stopped and looked at her with a knowing expression. "You can’t hate him, love," he said gruffly. "Because you love him. That’s your only fault." Y/N's gaze dropped to her hands, her fingers twisting together anxiously.  

Butcher’s words hit her hard because she knew they were true. Despite everything, despite the betrayal, the lies, and the pain, she still loved Ben. It was a love forged in the fires of their shared past, a bond that even time and trauma couldn’t completely sever.  

"I do love him," she admitted quietly, more to herself than to anyone else. "But it doesn’t make it any easier." Hughie placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Maybe it’s not supposed to be easy. Maybe it’s about finding a way to move forward together, even when it’s hard."  

Y/N nodded, appreciating his words but knowing she and Ben stopped moving forward after they became friends of some sort. And that was a few years after they met and trained together, somewhere late 50’s. Ben was struggling with his own demons, and she had to find a way to help him without losing herself in the process.  

The memories Mindstorm had unlocked were a part of her now, and she had to learn to live with them, just as Ben had to confront whatever haunted him. For now, all she could do was wait, hope, and hold onto the love that bound them together.  

She glanced toward the closed bedroom door, her heart aching for the man on the other side, and vowed silently to be there for him like she had always done.  

-- 

In the middle of the night, Y/N woke up, feeling the bed shift beneath her. Strong arms wrapped around her, and she immediately recognized the familiar embrace of Ben. Just as she was about to turn and face him, she felt his lips nip at her neck, a gesture that sent a shiver down her spine.  

A flicker of frustration rose within her; he had done this without her permission. But she quickly let it go, realizing that touch was Ben’s way of dealing with his emotions, a way to seek comfort and reassurance in the darkness.  

She turned to him, her eyes meeting his in the dim light. "Do you want to talk about it?" she asked softly, searching his face for any sign of the man she once knew. He shook his head, a terse, almost desperate motion. "No," he replied, his voice rough and edged with vulnerability.  

Without waiting for her response, he pulled her closer, his lips finding hers in a kiss that was both tender and urgent, a silent plea for solace. Y/N could feel the weight of his turmoil in every touch, every movement. She kissed him back, hoping to offer the comfort he sought. 

Her hands moved up to his face, fingers threading through his hair as she tried to convey her love and support through the simple act of holding him close. Ben became bolder in his touch, his hands roaming over her body with increasing intensity.  

Y/N pulled back slightly, whispering, "Don't." But he didn't listen, his need for connection overpowering her hesitant words. She didn't seem to mind, the familiar ache of desire mingling with her concern for him.  

"Don't," she whispered again, her voice unconvincing even to her own ears. Ben paused, his lips hovering just above her skin. "Why not?" he asked, his breath warm against her neck. She searched for the right words, her heart pounding in her chest. "Because... because I want to help you, not just distract you." 

His eyes softened, the vulnerability she saw earlier returning. "This is how you can help," he murmured. "I need you, Y/N. I need to feel you, to know that you're here with me." Her resolve wavered, the sincerity in his voice cutting through her doubts.  

She understood that this was his way of reaching out, of trying to find something solid to hold onto amidst the chaos in his mind. She nodded slowly, her fingers caressing his cheek. "I'm here," she whispered, her lips brushing against his.  

"I'm not going anywhere."Ben's eyes closed, and he pulled her into another kiss. His hands moved over her, peeling away their clothing until skin met skin, but nothing more than soft touches passed between them.  

Ben knew she wouldn't want him the same way, so he was glad with anything she had to offer. Even if it was merely holding her naked body in his arms. At least he could feel the warmth of her skin against his.

Each caress was gentle, each kiss a silent affirmation of their shared pain and unspoken fears. Their breaths mingled in the stillness of the room, and Y/N felt the warmth of his body against hers, a stark contrast to the chill of his earlier demeanor.  

She responded to his touch with equal tenderness, her fingers tracing the contours of his back, his shoulders, trying to offer the solace he so desperately needed. In this quiet intimacy, there was a vulnerability that neither of them had shown before.  

Y/N could feel the depth of his turmoil in the way he held her, as if she were the only thing anchoring him to the present. She whispered soothing words, her voice barely audible, hoping to ease the storm raging inside him.  

For a long while, they lay intertwined, their bodies speaking in ways words could not. There was no urgency, no rush just a shared moment of connection that bridged the chasm of pain and confusion between them.  

As the first light of dawn began to filter through the curtains, Y/N pressed a gentle kiss to Ben's forehead. "Talk to me." She whispered while his face was buried against her chest. 

Ben's grip on her tightened briefly, and then, in a voice barely above a whisper, he opened up.  

"Mindstorm told me... Homelander is... my son." Y/N felt her breath catch in her throat. For a moment, she didn't know how to react. She had once dreamed of having children, of starting a family with Ben.  

But that dream had shattered with her miscarriage, compounded by Ben's behaviour and the tumultuous life with Payback. In a moment of desperation and heartbreak, she had made the irreversible choice of sterilization.  

It was a decision she had come to terms with over time, but hearing that Ben had a child, presumably with someone else, cut her deeply. She pulled back slightly to look into his eyes, trying to process the flood of emotions crashing over her.  

"Homelander?" she repeated, her voice barely audible. "Ben, how...?" He sighed heavily, his gaze dropping. "I didn't even know until Mindstorm told me." Y/N searched his face, seeing the pain and confusion mirrored in his eyes.  

She felt a mix of anger, sorrow, and something else she couldn't quite name. "I always wanted kids... with you, Ben," she whispered, her voice trembling. "But everything that happened... I made a choice, and now I can't...”  

He knew what she meant. “And now to find out you have a child with someone else... it hurts." Ben's eyes filled with regret and sorrow. "Oh no sweetheart, not someone else, Vogelbaum took my DNA remember... I would never... I-I wanted that life with you too, once. I would never choose another woman to be the mother of my children."  

She nodded, feeling tears prick at the corners of her eyes. "It's just... it's a lot to take in." He reached out, cupping her face with a tenderness that belied his usual rough exterior. "This hasn't changed anything between us. It's just something I have to deal with now."  

Y/N took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. "No, we have to deal with it together," she corrected, her voice firmer. "We're a team, Ben. We always have been, even when things were at their worst. You and me remember."  

Ben nodded, pulling her into another embrace. They lay there in the growing light of dawn, holding onto each other no longer knowing who was soothing who.  

-- 

After a few weeks of avoiding the topic of Homelander, a fragile sense of ease had settled between Y/N and Ben. They had found a rhythm, an unspoken understanding that allowed them to navigate the complexities of their relationship whatever that was. They didn't label their relationship yet, without further deepening the emotional wounds. Unfortunately, their peace was short-lived.  

One morning, Butcher marched into their space with his usual brusque manner, a look of determination etched on his face. "So you ready?" he barked, eyes flicking briefly to Y/N before settling on Ben. 

Y/N had momentarily forgotten about their deal: Butcher helping Ben take down Payback, while Ben promised to kill Homelander. Her heart sank as the realization hit her. She stepped forward, holding Ben back with a firm hand on his chest.  

"Ben, you can't do this," she said, her voice trembling with anger and hurt. "You can't kill your only son." Ben's expression hardened, a storm brewing in his eyes. "Y/N, this is something I have to do. You don't understand."  

"No, I do understand!" she shot back. "I understand that you’re about to make a mistake you can never take back." Butcher interjected, his voice dripping with disdain. "Homelander ain't really his son, not in any meaningful way. He's a monster, Y/N. You know that as well as I do."  

Y/N turned on Butcher, fury radiating from her. "You have no right to talk about this! This is about family, something you clearly don't understand." Butcher's face twisted in anger, but before he could respond, Ben stepped between them, his gaze locked on Y/N. "This isn't about family. This is about stopping a threat, about doing what needs to be done."  

Y/N's eyes filled with tears, her voice breaking. "Ben, he's your blood. You can't just... you can't just kill him." Ben's resolve wavered for a moment, his eyes softening as he looked at her. "I don't want to do this, Y/N. But if I don't, who will? He’s too strong and dangerous." 

Ben's hand reached up to cup Y/N's face, his thumb brushing away her tears. "I need you by my side, i need you to trust me." he whispered, his voice filled with a sorrow that mirrored her own. "I have to do this."  

Y/N closed her eyes, leaning into his touch. "Then you’ll do it alone," she whispered back, her heart breaking. "Because I can't be a part of this." Ben nodded, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears. He turned to Butcher, who was watching the exchange with a mixture of frustration and grudging respect.  

"Let's go," Ben said, his voice resolute.  

-- 

An hour later, Y/N found herself poring over her old medical files, the sterile papers a stark reminder of the past she had tried to bury. Her eyes scanned the documents, a particular file catching her attention she haven't seen yet.  

Her heart pounded as she read the details: Dr. Vogelbaum had experimented with her DNA. She had been the first supe to become pregnant, but after some tests, they realized that normal sperm didn't work.  

So in 1980, they recreated the "old success" and used Ben's sperm for the tests. The realization hit her like a thunderbolt. Her mind raced. In 1981 a child was born, carried by a surrogate mother, made out of dna from two supes.

Without wasting another second, she bolted out of the door, her feet carrying her with a sense of urgency she hadn't felt in years. She knew where they would be headed: the Seven Tower. She ran through the streets, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions.  

She had to stop them. As she neared the tower, she heard voices coming from inside. She crept closer, her heart racing. Ben and Homelander were in the middle of a tense conversation.  

She could hear the unmistakable edge in Ben's voice and the cold arrogance in Homelander's. "And this," Homelander said, his voice dripping with pride, "is my son, your grandson." Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as she peeked around the corner.  

There stood a young boy, eyes wide with curiosity, innocence, and the same piercing gaze that marked both his father and grandfather. Ben's expression was a mix of shock, confusion, and an emotion Y/N couldn't quite place.  

"My grandson?" he repeated, the words heavy with disbelief. Y/N stepped forward, unable to hold back any longer. "Ben, wait!" she called out, her voice echoing in the cavernous space of the tower. Both men turned to face her, surprise etched on their faces.  

Butcher's expression quickly morphed into one of irritation. "What are you doing here?" Y/N ignored him, focusing solely on Ben. "I can't let you go on with this," she said, stepping between Homelander and Ben, her heart pounding in her chest.  

Ben frowned, his confusion deepening. "Y/N, this is not your business." Y/N nodded, her gaze unwavering. "Yes, it is. And that’s why I can’t let you hurt our son." Both men stared at her, baffled.  

Homelander’s usual arrogance was replaced by a flicker of confusion and something almost vulnerable. "What are you talking about?" Ben asked, his voice low and strained. Y/N turned to Homelander, her eyes meeting his. She saw a spark of recognition, a connection where there were no words for.  

Homelander’s eyes widened, and he took a hesitant step forward. "Mom?" he asked, his voice almost childlike in its vulnerability. Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes as she nodded, her hand trembling as she reached out to place it on his cheek.  

"Yes," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I'm so sorry, if I had known…" Homelander’s eyes filled with a mix of emotions, shock, confusion, and a glimmer of hope. He leaned into her touch, his hardened exterior momentarily crumbling. "All this time…" 

Ben's expression shifted from confusion to a dawning realization. He looked between Y/N and Homelander, the weight of the truth settling over him. "He’s really our son?" he asked, his voice hoarse. Y/N nodded, her tears spilling over. "Yes, Ben. They kept it a secret. That's why they took you away, that's why they took my memories. But he’s ours." 

Butcher, still standing off to the side, looked thoroughly unimpressed. "Bloody hell," he muttered, but his words were lost in the gravity of the moment. Y/N walked away from Homelander, her steps slow and deliberate.  

She grabbed Ben’s hand, pulling him slightly aside, her eyes filled with a mixture of urgency and pleading. "Ben, I found something in my medical files," she began, her voice trembling. "They experimented with my DNA because I was the first supe to get naturally pregnant. But when they failed, they used your sperm again, just like the first time."  

There was a moment of stunned silence as Ben processed her words. The weight of what she had just revealed hung heavily in the air. Homelander stood off to the side, his eyes flicking between them, confusion and curiosity etched on his face.  

Y/N reached up, cupping Ben's face with her hands, her touch gentle yet firm. "Please, Ben," she whispered, her voice breaking. "Don't let me go through that pain again. Don't take my child away from me." Ben's eyes, once hardened by years of battle and bitterness, softened as he looked at her.  

The pain and desperation in her eyes struck a chord deep within him. He glanced over at Homelander, seeing not just a powerful supe, but the son he never knew he had, their son, the child Y/N once so desperately wanted.  

Flashes of years of her mourning, change in character and even depression flashed by. He hated that she felt that way once, he couldn't be the person to put her through all of that again.

Y/N squeezed his hand, her eyes locked on his. "We can find another way, Ben. We have to. For him, for us." Homelander’s eyes glistened with unshed tears as he took another step forward.

"I don’t want to fight you," he admitted, his voice raw with emotion. "I just… I just want to know... you." Y/N’s expression softened further, her heart aching with a mixture of love and regret. Ben looked at Y/N, then back at Homelander.  

"We’ll figure this out," he said quietly. Y/N let out a shaky breath, relief washing over her. She reached out, taking Homelander’s hand in hers but just before she reached a yellowish laser blasts him through the room.  

Y/N turned around, eyes furious, ready to attack.  

 "Butcher!" 

------

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[jokeringcutio]

Joost Klein x (F) Reader – I kissed a girl (Rating:Teen and up)

Summary: After your best friend kisses you, Joost comes to your rescue by pretending to be your boyfriend.

Words: 3469 Warnings: Homophobia/Lesbophobia (from friend's dad), cigarettes & smoking mentioned, a few curse words (mostly as thoughts), being kissed by your best friend, being kissed by a girl, Joost and his crew being cool about it, Joost and his crew to the rescue, not beta-read. AN: This came to me in a fever dream.

The streets hummed with life, a blend of soft murmurs and boisterous laughter as groups of people weaved between buildings. Outside, old artifacts lay scattered on the cobblestones, decaying and rusting, remnants of a time when the factories still buzzed with activity. Now, these same factories were the home of all sorts of art projects.

You followed a small group into another narrow hall, your best friend walking close beside you. Colorful canvases and installations filled the room. The two of you paused to admire a towering abstract sculpture of twisted metal and blinking lights.

You and your best friend hadn’t wanted to be bored so you’d decided to walk the art route – hey, at least it was something to do! And you were in the area already. You were having a good day. The time had flown by, filled with laughter, shared admiration for the artworks, and deep contemplation amidst the artistic beauty. Just being in each other's company had transformed a potentially dull day into a delightful one.

The two of you came to stand in front of a piece of very modern art. The painting was a swirl of abstract shapes and vibrant colors, with two distinct male figures in the center. The figures were entwined in a passionate kiss, their forms blending seamlessly into one another amidst the chaotic background. The brushstrokes were bold and expressive, capturing a moment of intimacy with an almost palpable intensity.

You and your best friend giggled as you took in the artwork. "Well, they’re really going at it,” you said. “The artists hid no details.”

Your friend chuckled.

“What do you think was the underlying thought he had when he painted this?” You asked, tilting your head to the side.

She laughed softly, shaking her head. "I don’t even want to guess, but it’s definitely interesting."

You hummed.

“It’s nice to see more of this art though. Like… Men kissing,” she said after a moment, her voice more contemplative.

You turned to her, noting the thoughtful expression on her face. “Yeah.”

“I mean, makes me wonder. I’ve never kissed a girl before,” she lamented.

“You’ve kissed me,” you said, grinning.

“That was your cheek,” your friend exclaimed. “That doesn’t count.”

You both laughed, but then fell into a more serious silence. You glanced at her, noticing the curious glint in her eyes.

“Have you never wondered what it would be like to kiss a girl?” she looked at you, and you frowned slightly.

“Have you?” You asked in turn.

She bit her lip, clearly hesitant but also intrigued. "Yeah, I have. Especially after seeing this painting. It just makes me curious, you know?"

You nodded slowly, feeling a strange mix of excitement and nervousness. "Yeah, I get that."

She hesitated, then looked at you with a shy smile. "Do you think it would be weird if we tried it? Just to see what it’s like?"

“Well,” you said, your heart pounding in your chest. "I mean, if you want, we could...give it a try? Just to see what it's like?"

Her eyes widened. "Really? You'd be okay with that?"

You nodded. "Yeah. I think so."

You’d placed kisses on each other's cheeks in the past. Would this really be so different? To be fair, you were curious too.

Tentatively, she took a step closer. You mirrored her movements until mere inches separated you.

“I’m sorry,” she said, hiding her lips behind her hands as she burst into giggles. “Nervous.”

You smiled and patiently waited till she recomposed herself and lowered her hands. She stood a little straighter. “All right,” she said, “I’m ready.”

Now it was your turn to giggle, but only shortly. Slowly, gently, you leaned in. Your eyes fluttered shut. And then her lips met yours, soft and warm and tasting faintly of cherry chapstick.

Your eyes opened, slowly, and you saw him.

Most of the group had dispersed and had already continued to the next building, leaving you only with an Asian-looking mum and her teenage son – both too busy looking at the art -, two elderly ladies – too busy gossiping – and a tall bald man wearing a Hawaiian shirt whose gaze snapped away from the sight of the two of you kissing.

Pulling away from your friend, you saw the tall bald man fumbling with his bag, trying to pull out his phone as quickly as possible, lens pointed directly at you. Panic seized your chest.

"Someone is trying to film us!" you whispered urgently. Or take photos, you had no idea. All you knew was that this wasn’t normal, and the man seemed oddly keen to get the two of you on camera. Luckily, he was so rushed with his movements that his camera dropped on top of his bag again. He picked it up with trembling hands.

Your best friend whirled around and the blood drained from her face. "Shit,” Her hand was instantly upon your wrist, tugging you along. “That's Peter, my dad's friend. We’re dead."

Raw fear shone in her eyes as she started to pull you towards the entrance of the building to make your escape. “We need to run!"

Feet pounding, hearts racing, you tore through the narrow streets hand-in-hand. Peter's heavy footfalls echoed behind you, too close, always too close.

"We can't let him catch us!" she panted, breathless, while she urged you to keep running. "My dad...he's so traditional. If he hears I kissed a girl... If Peter shows him proof."

Tears streaked her flushed cheeks. You squeezed her fingers, pulling her around a sharp corner. “He can’t get us on camera,” you needed a moment to gasp for air, “not kissing.”

So you'd be safe, right? You could stop running?

“But he can show Dad your face,” your friend said, and you realized that you usually hang out at your place because of her situation. Not your friend’s, because of her strict parents.

Did her dad even know what you looked like? The two of you spend a lot of time together. What if he thought that you weren't just friends but were dating? Would he forbid the two of you hanging out together after this?

Shit.

"Just keep running," she urged you, and you did.

Winding alleys, cobblestone paths, your burning legs propelled you forward. Faster. You had to go faster. Lose him in the maze of backstreets and side lanes.

Your best friend’s palm was slick with sweat against yours. Ragged breaths tore from your lungs. Each gulp of air seared your throat.

Rounding another corner, you realized the two of you were trapped. A small alleyway was ahead, but you could already see the barbed-wired fence behind the rubbish bins. A dead end.

"There!" You veered to the left, tugging her with you. An old rundown building, tucked out of sight. Your only hope. Praying it was unlocked, you shouldered through the weathered door, your friend close behind you, following.

The door fell closed behind you as you stumbled right into the midst of the rundown factory shed. Then you looked up, only to find it wasn’t empty. Music pounded. A group of people stood all near the entrance of the building, talking, and smoking. All eyes turned to you and your friend.

Your best friend took an instinctive step backward, backing up against the now-closed doors.

But you weren’t focusing on her. Your eyes landed on the cameras that stood behind the group of people. You recognized that they had built some kind of set, with the way lamps were positioned to light the area. They were filming here.

And then your eyes slid past the people who looked at you with annoyance and you recognized him. A cigarette dangling from his lips, his piercing eyes locked onto you.

Your breath caught in your throat and your heart skipped a beat.

Joost Klein?

An artist you admired, someone you were a huge fan of. Here? In a rundown building? Filming a new video clip to one of his songs? Of course, you’d be making a fool of yourself in front of someone you admired. Fool, fool, foolish.

Dread knotted your stomach. Well, as they say: out of the frying pan, into the fire. Peter could be here any minute. And when you glanced at your friend, you could tell she still stood frozen and wasn’t going to say anything soon. The two of you needed help and it seemed to be up to you to get it.

“We need a place to hide, just for a moment. There’s this man chasing us, trying to-"

"Whoa, slow down." One of the crew members stepped forward, holding up his hands. "What's going on here? You can't just barge in like this."

Another girl in the crew, one with dark brown curls took a step toward you, her gaze never leaving you. "Start from the beginning. What's this about a man chasing you?"

You swallowed hard, trying to gather your scattered thoughts. Joost took a drag from his cigarette, eyeing you coolly. You tried not to look at him.

One of the blonde girls present cocked her head. All these gazes directed at you unnerved you. There were mostly young men here. You thought you recognized a face or two.

“This guy, he’s a friend of her dad,” you pointed at your best friend here, silently hoping she would take over, but seeing she was still shaken to the core. “He saw us kiss because we were curious and we were at this art thing and,” ah… you were rambling. Get to the point. “Never mind,” you shook your head.

“So you kissed?” The brown-haired girl asked, raising a brow skeptically. “So?”

“So?” Finally, your friend spoke up. It was as if the girl’s words had triggered her back into motion as she stepped away from the door. You could swear you saw the shadow of Peter pass by, probably heading to the dead end as you had hoped. It would buy you a little more time. But would it be enough?

Your best friend’s eyes were fiery as she stepped away from the door. “I kissed a girl,” she said, voice firmer now.

“So?” The brown-haired girl repeated herself. “So you kissed a girl. So what?”

“You don’t understand,” you piped in.

“My parents are very strict and if my dad hears I kissed a girl he’s going to kill us,” your best friend raised her voice, trying to convey the urgency of the matter.

“And this guy chasing us wants to take a picture of us to show to her dad so he knows who to kill,” you helpfully added.

This had the crew murmur, and you looked from one face to another, hoping they would understand. “So can you hide us for a minute, please?” You concluded.

Joost's crew exchanged glances, a mixture of surprise and concern on their faces. The girl who had spoken earlier frowned. "That's messed up."

“He could be here any second now,” your friend squeaked. You could see that she was constantly casting glances at the door.

“Go stand with one of the men,” the brown-haired girl said while she folded her arms in front of her chest. “You said he can be here any second now. Let’s get rid of the problem.”

You blinked, not quite understanding what she said.

“I-I’m sorry? How does that-?”

But she cut you short. “He’s got nothing against you if he comes in and sees one of you with your boyfriend.”

Wait a minute.

"Who..." You licked your dry lips, glancing around at the crew. "Who would be willing to pretend to be my boyfriend?"

As your gaze swept over the group, you were shocked to see every man raise their hands in a united show of support. Your dry mouth instantly turned parched as you dared to hope that they would all stand with you and your friend.

But before you could respond, Joost broke free from the crowd. His hand yanked the cigarette from his lips, leaving a trail of smoke behind as he strode towards you with determined purpose. His fingers clasped tightly around your wrist, pulling you forcefully against his chest.

Your eyes widened in alarm, and your heart nearly stopped at the proximity between you. Your breath caught in your throat as you looked up into his intense gaze, seeing flecks of gold in his eyes. This close, you could smell a scent that was uniquely Joost – hidden away underneath the smoke. He held his cigarette to the side, mindful not to have it graze past your skin.

Then, without warning, he dipped his head. Smoke rolled from his parting lips and tumbled over yours. You couldn’t help the gasp that escaped you, or how weak your knees suddenly felt. Grateful that Joost was still holding you, your eyes flicked to his lips as they moved, brushing ever so lightly past your own.

The ghost of a kiss.

Then suddenly, he moved his head away, tilting it as he looked behind you. “Do you mind?”

His voice was sharp all of a sudden, as if he wasn’t happy to be interrupted. And only then did you notice that the doors had been opened. The man who had chased you stood in the doorway, looking bashful and caught. Your friend was off to the side, some of the members of the filming crew standing protectively in front of her, shielding her just in case. Neither of you knew if Peter had actually seen her, but he appeared to be too shocked by what he did find.  

You didn't dare to fully turn around, but you heard the hasty retreat of footsteps, and the slam of the door. No apologize, no nothing. But at least, Peter was gone.

Joost released you, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "Guess that takes care of that problem."

Your legs threatened to give out, your heart still racing. "I... Thank you. For saving us. I don't know how to repay you."

He waved a dismissive hand and brought his cigarette back to his lips.

Those lips… You had to tear your eyes away from them, having unintentionally followed the movement of his hands.

Your friend emerged from behind the crew, her eyes wide with a mixture of awe and disbelief. "I can't believe that just happened. Joost Klein, of all people..."

You couldn't quite believe it either. But as you stood there, surrounded by the understanding faces of Joost's crew, you had no way to deny this wasn’t real.

Your breath caught in your throat, your pulse quickening at the sight of him. You'd admired him from afar for so long, never dreaming that you'd find yourself in a situation like this. But here he was, ready to step in and play the role of your savior.

You wanted to say something, to tell him how much you appreciated what he'd done, but the words stuck in your throat. He’d already turned his back to you, though he was still lingering a few steps away from you. All you needed to do was speak up. But…He probably had groupies throwing themselves at him all the time. He didn't need another needy fan.

One of his crew members noticed your hesitation, elbowing you gently in the ribs. "Go on," she whispered, nodding towards Joost.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. "Joost, I..." you started, your voice shaking slightly.

He looked at you, a cigarette dangling from his lips, his head cocked to the side. He tapped the cap of his head, waiting for you to continue.

But you couldn't do it. Couldn't ask for what you really wanted. Damnit. Around you, you heard the voices of the other crew members. The voice of your best friend was among them as she explained in greater detail how life at her home was and how she’d been afraid to lose your friendship. But you didn’t take it all in. To you, these were just voices that were drowned out by the rhythmic beating of your own heart.

"I just wanted to say that I'm a big fan," you said instead, the words tumbling out in a rush. "I'll make sure to show you extra support online."

Joost's eyebrows shot up, a look of surprise flashing across his face. Then he grinned, shaking his head slightly. "Here," he said, with his hand outstretched. “Give me your phone.”

You instantly reached for your phone, fingers fumbling, and stood frozen as Joost – the one and only Joost Klein – stood in front of you with your phone in his hand, typing away as he added his details to your contacts. You must be dreaming… The way he leaned a little forward, the cigarette held between his lips, his blonde bangs brushing the edge of his black-rimmed glasses. Then, all too quickly, he pushed your phone back into your hands.

"In case you ever want to chat."

Your jaw dropped, your fingers trembling around your own phone. "T-thank you," you stuttered. This wasn’t real. Couldn’t be.

Joost just grinned and winked at you before turning away, sauntering back towards his crew. You watched him go, your heart pounding in your ears. You couldn't believe what had just happened. Joost Klein had given you his private contact information.

The brown-haired girl from Joost's crew sauntered over, peering at your phone in your hand.

“Well, that happened,” she said, her eyes sliding from your screen up to meet yours. “Don’t look so shocked. Just don’t share that with anyone else, will ya?”

“I wasn’t planning to,” you stammered. You glanced at your friend, who was watching the exchange with wide eyes. You couldn't help but smile.

This day had taken such an unexpected turn.

For the next couple of minutes, you talked to the girl by your side and slowly got down from your adrenaline high. The crew around you started to bustle, preparing for the next take. Cigarettes were stubbed and you understood it was the end of their break – you were just grateful you’d not interrupted them while actually recording.

Your friend joined you. And although you listened and talked to Joost’s crew and friends, your eyes would at times drift over to where he was, observing him as he talked to others and laughed, swung his arm around one of their shoulders, and smoked the last of his cigarette.

You wished he would turn and look at you, but he never did. Not wanting to be caught watching him, you focused on the conversations around you as best you could. Calls for quiet on the set sounded and the music was turned louder. “It’s time to continue recording,” one of the crew told the two of you. “You can stay and watch if you’re very, very quiet.”

But your friend shook her head, smiling shyly. “Thank you, but I really need to be home in time.”

Ah right, curfew. Her strict parents’ schedule. You forced a smile and joined your friend on the way out. As the two of you prepared to leave, you waved shyly at the crew members who weren’t already back at work and happened to glance your way. They waved back, much to your relief. You ducked your head and pushed against the heavy doors until a sliver of light from outside appeared. You intended to slip out as quickly and quietly as possible, but suddenly, a voice rang out above the music.

"Message me when you get home safe, okay?"

Joost.

You looked back at him, your heart skipping a beat. He was watching you, his expression serious for once, as he stood amidst the others on set. The dancers or extras – you weren’t quite sure – who stood around him looked up and halted their moves. The cameras were already rolling and Joost just stopped midperformance to call after you.

Wow.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak.

Then you slipped out the door, your friend at your side. As soon as it closed behind you, you both broke into giggles, giddy with excitement and disbelief.

"I can't believe that just happened," your friend gasped, clutching at your arm.

You grinned at her, feeling warm and happy and safe. "Me neither. But I'm glad it did."

[prime-adeptus]

Vient la douleur

Neuvillette lives in the aftermath.

Pairing: Neuvillette x GN!Reader

Content: Major character death, suicide, implied/referenced self-harm, grief/mourning, past relationship. More narration than dialogue. (~3.2k words)

Note: Just working through some things :') I gave this my all, so please be kind and let me know what you think!!

Read on AO3

There are a lot of things Neuvillette could liken you to.

You were the sun, shining bright on the gloomiest of days with your joyful disposition and beautiful smile. You were his favourite melody, someone he could listen to for hours and hours on end. You were his rainbow roses and windwheel asters, the flowers of love and freedom. You were everything a romantic could ever dream of, even if you never saw it in yourself. You were the missing piece he needed all along.

Most important of all: you are his beloved, the one who held his heart in their hands.

Solitude was far from a stranger. Though Fontaine is hardly a place with a scarce population, he was more used to being by himself. He didn’t join in the hustle and bustle of the city, and he didn’t play house like the children did. Instead, he found a hobby in watching the vibrance of human life alone from the sidelines, learning in trial and error what it meant to live. Emotions didn’t come as easy to him as it would to the average person. He could feel a raging inferno in his chest or a chill trickling down his spine, but he’d never have the words for it. All he could do was watch the skies change with his thoughts in the form of a downpour or a tempest.

But in solitude, he also met you.

You came into his life like a whirlwind, as only the best kind. You met him without fear but with eagerness and excitement that he couldn’t help being mesmerised by. Your smile was the first thing he noticed about you. He remembers how it reached your eyes and how it showed the dimples in your cheeks. He didn’t know it at the time, but those would become one of his favourite sights in his life.

“Monsieur Neuvillette!”

You called him with a sense of familiarity that, oddly, he was comforted by. He understood then what the poets meant when they said it felt like the world had stopped for them. In a matter of a few seconds, he felt like he’d known you for years, just because of how warm you felt. Whether it was by chance or by fate matters little to him; regardless of what it had been, it brought you into his life.

Every love song he’d heard from the opera’s chanteuses began to make sense. ‘Love at first sight’ is truly a curious phenomenon. Exploring the depths that are human emotions then was a journey that led to more questions than answers. How do humans know when they’re in love? How do humans know when they’ve met ‘the one?’ He supposes he’ll never get a solid answer to these questions, but he’ll take one in the form of you. Perhaps he never needed to ask. Perhaps all he had to do was wait for the day your souls intertwined.

One chit-chat led to a conversation, and those conversations led to a routine. He’d see you at the park in the evenings and then walk you home when he felt it was getting late. Some days, he’d sit with you in a gazebo away from the crowd and just watch many lives pass by. Though your conversations mostly consisted of you talking and him listening, he liked it. He liked how expressive you were, how he always wanted to see more. The wonder in your eyes was something he’d grown fond of very quickly, but that wasn’t the only thing about you that he’d fallen in love with.

Just seeing you interact with your surroundings alone made it clear that you loved everything. From the city to its people, from the flora to the fauna, there wasn’t a single thing you weren’t happy to see. You brought colours into his life, showed him the vibrant side of the world he hadn’t seen yet. He was almost envious of how carefree and outgoing you were. A friendly smile, a gentle wave, some small talk about the weather; socialising came naturally to you. It fascinated him and warmth would blossom in his chest every time he saw how animated you could get. But there was no room for envy, nor was there a need to be. You were a breath of fresh air and you felt like home.

You liked to tell him that there’s always something good waiting for him the next day. That daybreak is a sign that you’ve lived for another day even when you don’t feel like you did anything valuable. I just look forward to every day! you had said, giving him a grin that always left him stumbling for words. It didn’t answer his inquiry, but it was enough. It appeared to him that you loved life, and getting to be happy with others is only a part of what makes it so special for you.

He didn’t have much to do outside of the Court. His free time was mostly spent reading or water tasting. Sometimes he’d bring work home just to ensure he recorded everything correctly. It was quite an average routine that changed when he met you. The moment you met, his days became livelier. It must’ve been quite the sight for Fontainians indeed, to see their Chief Justice taking afternoon strolls with a dessert in hand. He didn’t care for the hearsay that inevitably circulated from his new activities. What mattered was that you were becoming an integral part of what used to be mundane and changing it for the better.

It was not often that he had the time for leisure. Still, he found it difficult to deny you anything, and so he’d always find a way to make time for you. That time would be spent in the gardens or restaurants, occasionally in the front seats of the Opera Epiclese if there was a show you wanted to see. When it got dark, it would be spent in the comfort of his home with you on his lap as he read to you. Sometimes you’d fall asleep in his arms and your lips would curl into a small smile when you felt his lips touching the crown of your head. Affection wasn’t something he was used to as it wasn’t exactly a necessity, but he found himself craving yours.

The puzzle pieces fell into place on their own as if there was a telepathic bond between you and him. There was never a label for what you two were. The papers would call you lovers or companions, depending on what they caught on camera. It didn’t matter much to him, either. What he knew was that there was a bond, something that intrinsically linked your hearts to one another, and it made every day feel like summer.

Before long, he realised that you were right. Something good awaits after every daybreak, something that will brighten up his day and light up his heart with joy, and for him, it was you.

—

Time flows like water, unending and always in motion. The world turns and the days go by, turning into months and years that pass in a blink of an eye. Time is a witness to every step one takes and it remembers every story that unfolds. Time is what Neuvillette has plenty of and it is kind to him. He learns and adapts to the world as it changes around him without haste, letting years of knowledge build him into the person he is today.

Time, however, treats people like you differently.

Where he never aged, you did. Where it didn’t wear him out, it did to you. The glimmer in your eyes grew more dull over the years. Your smiles became rarer, and you no longer talked to those you considered your friends. You never told him why you were changing. It was as if your heart had betrayed you, making what used to shine bright grow dimmer and dimmer until it was completely extinguished.

In the face of it all, you still had plenty of love to give. You still held him every night as he sought for solace in your arms. You still listened to his curiosities and indulged in everything he had to ask. At the same time, it felt as though you were too far for him to reach you. As though you were fading deeper into the darkness until the only echoes he could hear were his own. His heart ached to see you this way, and for someone as meticulous as he is, he was at a total loss.

Even then, he refused to leave you. He will always love you no matter what you become. He’d love you in every way and he’d love you through thick and thin, through the calm and the tumultuous.

Six hundred and ten days have passed, and it continues to hold.

You left with everything he was and behind a letter in your wake. In it was an apology that etched its words into his bloodstream and a memory that appears every time you cross his mind. In it also came a promise that you’d find him in your next life no matter how long it takes, for your soul has found a home in him. And finally, in it was a wish: that you wanted him to live without regret, just like how you never regretted your time with him.

‘You can find happiness again without me,’ you wrote. Your tears stained the paper where ink seeped and blurred some of the words. His heart aches to think of the guilt you carried with you even after death. Of how afraid you must’ve felt as the poison flowed into your system, and how alone you must’ve been.

The sight is still engraved into his very vision: your limp, lifeless body with both old and fresh scars across your skin, the vial of poison on the floor and the sealed letter in your hand. Composure was second nature to Neuvillette, but none of it was to be seen when he found you. His hands were shaking as he took you into his arms and held you close. His heart felt heavy as if it was coming to a stop. Emotions brewed within him like a storm, volatile and disorderly, but not a word left his lips.

By the time Sigewinne arrived, reality had sunk in, and every prayer he had shattered like glass. The rainstorm lasted for weeks after that. Only by the fourth did the rain finally stop and even then, the skies seemed to be in a permanent state of gloom with the clouds shrouding the sun and stars. Fontaine eventually got back its clarity much later, and people seemed to already move on from the strange natural phenomenon that had occurred.

Six hundred and ten days have passed, and he still misses you as much as he did that spring.

Life without you felt more like dusk than daybreak. The splash of colour had melted away and days felt longer without someone waiting for his return. His home is eerily quieter and more hollow. Your favourite trinkets were never moved from where they were placed on the shelves. The book he’d been reading to you every night stays open and unturned on the table. His own home had turned into a paradox—you were here, but you also weren’t.

How strange, he thinks, how he still feels so acutely alone even with everything you left behind. He’s been through grief time and time again, but it never gets easier. If anything, this is perhaps the most harrowed he has ever felt.

The cemetery had begun to feel more familiar than it should. He hears everything that people say there. He hears them talk about how they wish they could see their loved one welcoming them back home. He hears them talk about how they wish they could just hear their loved one’s laughter one last time. How they wish they had professed their love before it was too late, how they wish they could say all the things they never dared to say. In this, he is not alone. His thoughts flow in that very same direction.

Neuvillette is not a selfish man. There is nothing he heavily desired that he’d do anything to obtain. And yet, he wonders if he should and could be just this once. Everything he wants is you. Every face in the crowd he sees is you, and every song he hears is in your voice. If he had just been more selfish and demanded you to stay, would he have been able to stop you? Would you still make the same decision?

He wakes up every morning to a cold and empty bedside. He leaves without a kiss goodbye. He comes home with no one to welcome him back. Suddenly he has returned to where he once was, alone and closed off from the world around him. Being by himself isn’t as daunting as it used to be, but nothing could ever replace you. With you, loneliness hardly existed. Without you, he has returned back to where he started.

Tick, tick, tick. The clock is the only sound he can hear on this dreary night as he watches it strike twelve. His eyes stay trained on his reflection in the glass, hoping that he’ll see you coming up to embrace him from behind like you used to.

You never do.

Yet another date on the calendar is crossed out. The ring glimmers in the moonlight from where it lays in its velvet box. He’d imagined it playing out in his mind, from the proposal to the look on your face as you told him yes. It was a gift that he spent a long time preparing and waiting for. A surprise that would always make you smile whenever you thought about it.

It was meant to be a promise, one that he would keep for as long as you’d let him.

But you never got to celebrate your birthday, and so he lets the candle’s flames die out on their own. With a heavy heart, he puts the ring back where it was on the shelf. Some plans go awry, but he can’t give up yet. There will come a day when he meets you again, and only then can he finally tell you everything he wanted to say.

For now, they remain unspoken. The promise is never made, and he alone is the witness.

—

Neuvillette wakes up to a world without colour.

Everything around him is painted in different shades of grey, from the trees swaying in the wind to the crystal-clear water in the fountain. Faceless passers-by are scattered across the plaza, talking amongst each other in hushed and intelligible words. As he walks down the stone path, he becomes acutely aware that this is merely a dream. And yet, he is completely lucid; he can feel the breeze against his skin and hear the birds chirping in the distance. His body moves at its command, continuing down the path to the destination only it could know.

He finds himself atop a grassy hill that overlooks the horizon where he can see a person standing on the edge. Your back is turned, but there’s no mistaking it—he’d recognise you from anywhere. It goes far deeper than memory. It's his instinct, his life, and he’d always choose you no matter what decision he has to make. He comes to a halt just as you finally look at him, and what was only a vignette bursts into vivid colours.

The world is no longer grey as vibrance returns to where it belongs. Neuvillette’s breath gets stuck in his throat the closer you approach him. You aren’t in the clothes he’d last seen you in. You’re dressed in white and you hold a bouquet of rainbow roses in your hands, every piece of it in full bloom.

“You’re here!”

This is a dream. He knows he is. But it sounds exactly like you, looks exactly like you, and he’s missed you so deeply that he’ll happily stay in this trance a while longer. He parts his lips to speak, but no words come out. There’s a light burn in his nose and behind his eyes the longer he looks at your joyful self. Without realising it, a tear rolls down his cheek, and he finds that he can finally breathe.

His hands shake as he reaches for you. Before he can revel in feeling you beneath his touch after so long, your skin turns cold and you melt into his hands until nothing is left behind but water. Only remnants of the mirage he’d just seen are left behind. And as if they never returned, the world turns grey once more before it completely fades into the dark.

Now, Neuvillette finds himself in his bed.

Rain pitter-patters against the window beside him and behind the shower is the sunrise, coming up ever so slowly. He casts a glance at your side of the bed and it is still empty, devoid of your warmth. It constantly reminds him of how cold and empty this place is, a stark difference from what it was when you were around. The sun has not yet risen. Hues of dark blue spread across the sky and obscure the stars, casting a dreariness upon the entirety of Fontaine.

The chill nips at his cheeks as he leaves his abode and makes his way to the cemetery in silence. He remembers the path to your grave like the back of his hand, a bitter fact he lives with, but he reigns himself in. The bouquet of Lumidouce bells in his hands suddenly feels much heavier as he gazes down at your picture. It’s already beginning to lose its colour thanks to the time and weather, so he reminds himself to replace it as soon as he can.

He gingerly puts the bouquet down on your altar. He imagines how you’d chide him seeing him in this state, how you’d wrap your arms around his waist and pull him close. He wonders if you have returned to the cosmos or the seas and if you’d be able to feel how much he yearns to be with you again. If there is an afterlife, is it a place where you are happy and free of every burden you carried? If he listened to the waters, would he be able to hear you calling his name?

(Six hundred and eleven days have passed, and his questions remain unchanged.)

Deep in his heart, Neuvillette fears that there will come a day when he forgets the way you looked or the way you sounded. Your voice has already become distant in his mind; it won’t be long before the years take you away from him again. Perhaps time isn’t as kind to him as it used to be.

But for you, he must continue to live, as much as he wishes he could turn back time and spend more of it with you. For you, he must fulfil your wish and honour you the best way he can. For you, he will hold on and wait for the next time you’ll grace him with yourself and your love.

Not once have I regretted my time with you, you had written.

He wonders if you’ll ever know that he feels the same way.

[emerald-taur]

More Than a Friend

~Summary:

You're in love with your friend, and she makes you crazy with her behavior .

~Parings: wanda × reader

~Warnings: drinking 🍸

~Word count: 2.3K

~A/n: This was inspired by a song 🎵✨️

DO NOT COPY ANY MY WORK | MINORS DIN 18+ ONLY Disclamer: Englisch is not my first language. Fell free to comment and like

You caught sight of her among all these people ,standing near the bar, talking to someone.

She wears a red dress, it's laying gracefully around her form, reminiscent is the vibrant color of deep crimson red. It's adorned with delicate gold accessories, and each piece glistens softly against her honeyed skin.

As she turned your way, a smile graced her lips, a sight that always meqns so much to you. You couldn't help but remember the times when her expression was clouded with tears instead with her heartwarming smile, following the loss of her twin.

You stood by her side through every tear and heartache. However, as time passed, you weren't as close anymore.

No midnight talks, no movie night, no girls' nights anymore.

Maybe it's for the better. Now, you can at least overcome this stupid feeling you get every time you look into her eyes.

Feeling a tap on your shoulder, you shifted your gaze away, turning to face the person standing behind you.

It was Natasha, as stunning as ever in her impeccably tailored dark blue pantsuit. She handed you a drink with a gentle smile, the glass filled with a red cherry swimming in perfectly clear vodka.

This drink was exactly what you needed in this moment, still felt the lingering presence of those emerald green eyes. As the comforting warmth of the liquid coursed through you, you finally could shake the memory of this green.

"Feeling better ?"

"Yeah , thanks, Tascha. Please tell me, will it ever go away ?"

"You ask the wrong person , you the only one who I let come this close , still don't know how that happened. "

" I'm just that charming am I."

"Funny but no, not really, you're just you."

"Mh"

"Just so you know, she's on her way to you."

"W-WHAT."

She already left, that b-tch.

Not even a few seconds later, you knew tascha was right. The tap on your arm confirmed it.

Looking down at your , now emty glass, you took a gulp, then turned to Wanda with a slightly awkward smile.

"Hey wands, y-you doing ok ?"

"Yeah, everything is okay. Are you this is your fourth drink tonight."

"Yeah, yeah, no worries, I'm fine, and tascha looks out for me, so no troubles."

"Oh, ok"

Now, both of you stood there awkwardly, your gazes locked, unsure of what to say or do next.

Then, she excused herself and hurriedly left to catch up with Vision, you assume . Their bond had been strong since the day he came. You think it's because of the Mind Stone, but it also was the day she began to distance herself.

Turning back to the bar, you signaled for another drink, hoping to make a stop to the swirling thoughts in your mind.

The rest of the night blurred , you just awoke the next morning in a friend's bed but not the one you wished you would have. She, too, possessed green eyes, but they were not the ones that haunted you.

Before Natasha awoke, you quietly slipped away to your own room.

Breakfast was an awkward affair; all eyes seemed to turn toward you as you walked in. Even Tony couldn't resist his playful jab, sending his regards for a "very fun night".

You want the floor to swallow you and never let you return.

What you didn't expect was Wanda settling beside you, her smile melting my heart and igniting a warmth within you.

Now, smiling foolishly idiot at your plate, you couldn't help but wonder what had happened yesterday night.

"Y/n we're both of duty want to watch a movie, I know there is some new movie that just came out you would like."

"Ah-h real-ly, I mean yeah, sure."

"Good I will come to your room after training."

You nodded with a big smile that reached your dark blue eyes.

Continuing to avoid Natasha, you took charge of planning the evening, gathering snacks and drinks, securing Tony's Beamer, and grabbing a few extra pillows for added comfort for both of you.

Natasha was puzzled, wondering why you had left before her. Knowing you weren't a morning person, it was unusual for you to be up before her, and she couldn't help but notice your attempts to avoid her.

Knowing Natasha's direct nature, she wasted no time and headed straight to your room,wanting an explanation, coincidentally crossing paths with Wanda along the way.

You opened the door with a smile that quickly faded when you saw Natasha standing there, her expression confused and determined.

"Sorry, wanda, I will steal her for a few minutes."

She nodded, looking at both concerned.

Natasha walked inside. She closed the door behind her and took a seat on your bed, her presence filling the room with an air of tension.

"What your problem ?"

"Mh no, no problem."

"Bullsh-t. I won't ask again."

With Wanda standing just outside, your nerves were on edge, uncertain if she was listening in on your conversation.

But with Natasha determined to talk things out, you knew she wouldn't leave until you had a conversation. So, despite your nerves, you began to talk.

"Look last night , what we did I-I was-/."

"Wait, what do you think we did ?"

"You know ."

"Yeah, no, we didn't, but this let's me know you don't remember anything, do you ?"

"Uh, you don't know how happy it makes me , I mean your coll and all, but .."

"I know you're madly in love with the one waiting outside your door."

"Sssh."

She laughed: "No, you don't remember."

"Remeber what ?"

"What you did."

"Why, what did I do ?"

"Talk to wanda."

With that, Natasha left, allowing Wanda to enter your room.

You were afraid to ask her, so you simply started the movie, hoping to distract yourself from the unresolved mystery.

That's when you began to grow close again, rekindling your movie nights and midnight talks and more. Despite the lingering tension, it felt like old times were finally returning.

Like today, she came over, and you talked about what had been happening with the others. Although you still didn't know what had transpired at that party you think you don't need ro know.

She shared her excitement about the new coffee shop she visited with Natasha, expressing her love for the cozy atmosphere and delicious drinks.

Seeing her talk so passionately once more made you yearn to hear her voice all the time. The way she becomrd excited over the smallest things reminded you to appreciate the little joys in your life.

She paused mid-sentence, her gaze shifting to me with a smile playing on her lips.

"What ?" You asked her.

"Nothing, I just like how you look at me like that. "

Your cheeks flushed with warmth, a definite hint of red coloring them in response to her.

Then she laughed sweetly and reached for your book from the bedside table, her laughter filling the room with a sense of lightness and warmth.

That night, you tossed and turned, unable to sleep, the memory of that moment and her words replaying incessantly in your mind. Making you smile the whole night.

Tony barged in in the morning, disrupting the peace and quiet, as he rallied everyone to go to his ridiculous party.

Despite any reluctance, it seemed obligatory for all of you to participate. After all, it was his birthday, and Tony wouldn't let you forget it, making sure the day was one to remember for "centuries."

"Y/n, I will trop by to get ready with you, alright."

"Yeah, no problem, wands.

That's how you found yourselves getting ready together right now. You were lying on the bed while Wanda worked her magic, giving your makeup a makeover.

What was decently needed, her world not yours.

She was so focused on your makeup that you couldn't help but watch her, taking in every detail of her concentration and skill.

You noticed her mouth; she had a habit of biting her lips when she was concentrated, a subtle gesture that added to your sinking heart.

Just as if she could sense the moment Natasha barged in, questioning why it was taking so long. Wanda and you quickly pulled apart, distancing yourselves faster than you could even process the situation.

Natasha led both of you to the party, discussing her time to relax after her hard work. However, your attention was elsewhere as you found myself watching Wanda instead of listening to her.

And as usual at all parties, you drank, perhaps a little more than usual. Oh, the last party was far more than usual , so just you now.

As the night progressed, you couldn't help but wonder if Wanda felt the same way you did.

Your hands wrapped around her body as you danced together, her gaze meeting yours with a hint of something more, and she was bitting her lip in a way that sent shivers down your spine.

You decently want to be more then friends.

After that party, confusion consumed you. The mixed signals from Wanda left you questioning everything.

So fucking confusing the way that she texts you ,keeps saying I love you. Does she really mean it ?

Especially when she bites her lips and looks at you like that.

Then, one night, on the team's get-together, you had only one drink, but that was enoth .

She came over , called it a girls' night, she took her clothes, you knew she was your type.

So you keep in this in touch because you want to touch each other.

Those nights were the worst and simultaneously the best you can have. Beacuse you had her, but it felt like you didn't. So, you truly have didnt had her at all.

This girls has you all messed up.

Natasha was the first to notice the change in your relationship. Wanda's shift in attention toward you instead of Vision didn't go unnoticed, and you weren't as sad as before, but also nit as happy as you should have been.

Lastly, she saw the two of you together in the middle of the night, a sight that confirmed her suspicions about the changing dynamics between Wanda and you.

As she noticed your lack of genuine happiness, she sat you down to talk, wanting to understand what was wrong now that you were finally with Wanda. But learning that Wanda and you weren't in a relationship and were just having fun took her by surprise ,cause she knew that both of us loved each other, which made the situation even more perplexing for her.

"Why don't you tell her ?"

"I can't, Tascha."

"Why not ? You two are basically made for each. "

"I remember Tascha."

"What ?"

"The night at the party."

"But that good then you should know ? I mean, you two were so into each other, and wanda was .."-/-?

"I tolled her I liked her."

"Wait you did ?"

"She said you're the best...."

"Oh"

"Yeah, oh , so I want to destroy what I have now."

Natasha didn't understand. Wanda had mentioned she was considering telling you, so why did she respond this way to your confessing?

She remembered overhearing Wanda and Vision talk about you. It waz Wanda wondering if you wanted to be more than just friends.

"Vision, I want to more than a friend .Do you think she feels the same ? Does she want me back ?" Wanda was wondering.

With Natasha's confusion, she concluded that the reason only could be miscommunication. So what could she do to help you ?

......

Sometimes, the stupidest ideas are the most effective. So yeah It sounds like a plan.

The next morning, both of you found a letter at the doorstep instructing you to meet Natasha in the training room.

Both of you went, uncertain of what Natasha wants and feeling nervous and unsure of each other's intentions (wanda and yours).

What they didn't know was that Natasha was waiting behind the door, instructing Friday to close it the moment both of us entered. She was determined to let you two have a private conversation and would fight anyone who thought now would be the perfect time to train.

Now, there you were, alone in a room with no escape, the awkwardness hanging heavily between you two.

And in that moment, amidst the palpable tension and uncertainty, you knew that whatever happened next would change everything.

Sitting on the bank, five meters apart, a comfortable and not so complex silence enveloped you. You started fidgeting with your fingers, and Wanda absentmindedly twirled her necklace.

"Y/n do you remember now ? Is that why Natacha locked us up."

"Yeah, look, I'm sorry we don't have to talk about it. o know we're we're just having fun, nothing new ."

"If you want it just to be fun, thats ok"

"If you want to."

Then, she turned to you and asked if you would be upset if she didn't want our relationship to be just fun anymore.

At first, you misunderstood, thinking she meant she didn't want to be with you in any sense anymore. But ypu soon realized you were strongly mistaken.

Wanda closed the distance between you two. Your lips met in a kiss filled with all the pent-up emotions, expressing all the longing, confusion, and love that had been building between you two. And in that moment, everything else faded away.

With your hearts racing and your breaths synced, you pulled back slightly, gazing into each other's eyes. "I've been wanting to tell you for so long," Wanda whispered, her voice barely above a whisper. "I love you, more than words can express."

tears welled up in your eyes as you reached out to cup her cheek. "I love you too, Wanda," you confessed, your voice filled with emotion. "I've never felt this way about anyone before."

With both of your heartfelt confessions, the fog of confusion that had clouded your relationship finally lifted, and everything became clear.

You were sure a bright future awaited you, and Wanda will be by my side, ready to face whatever challenges came your way.

In the end, it was clear that both of you wanted more than friends.

[vivwritesfics]

Sweet Temptation

Bob x Bun

~nurse-sainz

The air was filled with the murmur of different conversations and the clinking of glasses. Bun’s father was hosting a grand feast, a rare moment of celebration and joy among colleagues and family. The atmosphere was what you would expect: tense but relaxed as everyone enjoyed a brief respite from their dangerous lifestyles.

Bun stood by the spread of exotic fruits, all amazingly prepared into various shapes and displays. Among them was a bowl of perfectly ripe mangoes. The fruit looked juicy and vibrant and, despite her allergy, incredibly tempting to her.

Bob stood by, never letting his girl out of his sight for too long as he scanned the room. With a mischievous grin, she walked back over to him with a plate of food for them both and tossed something towards him with his free hand.

Bob caught the item, his reflexes quick, before he realized just what she had thrown at him. Her EpiPen. Realizing she looked fine, showing no signs of distress, he looked back at the device in his hands. “Why are you giving me this, Bun?” Bob asked, his voice a mix of curiosity and a hint of concern.

She flashed him a mischievous grin, her eyes gleaming with what Bob could only describe as chaos. “I’m going to try the mango.”

Bob’s expression darkened, glancing between her, the pen, and the fruit. “Bun…sweetheart, you know you’re allergic,” he replied, running a hand through his hair in exasperation.

“I know,” she replied, her grin unwavering. “But I’ve always wondered what it tastes like. And if I’m going to do it, at least you’re here to save me,” she shrugged before ignoring his warning and picking up a piece of the fruit. “Besides, I could have grown out of it.”

He stared at her, his mind racing, despite this being very much Bun behavior—impulsive and completely unpredictable. “This is crazy,” he muttered, but he didn’t stop her. He knew better.

She shrugged, her eyes twinkling with a chaotic energy. “You’ve got my EpiPen, and I trust you to use it if I need it.” With a final and determined look, she picked up a slice of mango and bit into it. Bob’s eyes never left her as he gripped the EpiPen just a little bit tighter. She gave a little moan as she chewed the juicy piece of fruit, her eyes lighting up. “This is amazing. You should try some, Bob,” she grinned.

For a moment, everything was fine. The fruit was delicious, just as she had imagined it would be from the look of it. But then she felt a tingling sensation in her lips and a mild itching at her throat, but it didn’t deter her. Bob watched as she smiled and stabbed her fork into another piece.

“How are you feeling?” he asked as he grabbed a piece of his own.

“I think I’m okay. Just a little tingle.”

Bob closed the distance between them as he grabbed her plate and threw it down on a nearby table. “Bun…,” he said, his voice steady but stern as he uncapped the device, not wanting to wait for more symptoms to appear. He blocked her from view and hiked up her dress slightly before jabbing the EpiPen into her thigh.

“Fuck, Bob,” she winced at the sting, but the tingly sensation in her throat began to ease almost immediately. Bob kept his arm around her, rubbing a comforting hand up and down her arm.

“You feeling okay?” he asked, hating to cause her pain but knowing it was necessary.

“That was so worth it, but now I know I like it, I'm just gonna want to try it again.”

Bob shot her a look that wasn’t meant to be argued with as she gave him a cheeky smile and stood on her tiptoes to kiss his nose.

“My hero.”

Series Masterlist

okay but like she'd acquire the taste and poor mickey would have to carry around an EpiPen and it would lowkey freak him out but legit there's no stopping this girl when she wants to do something

(@nurse-sainz thank you for giving us more bob and bun - i've been lacking)

[higanbana-writer]

Wavering Gaze

Pairing: Kyōjurō x Gn!Upper Moon!Reader Prompt: [Soulmate AU where one of your eyes is the same color as your soulmate’s.] Kyōjurō has finally met his soulmate. But what was he supposed to do when you're an Upper Moon and he, a Hashira? C/N: Just Shinjurō being an ass during his brief screentime. A/N: Hoo boy. I was originally going to just make this a two part series, but I got a bit carried away and the 'second' part ended up being waaaay too long. So, three parts it is! Part: 1, 2, 3 (coming soon)

“Follow your heart, Kyōjurō.”

Those had been his mother’s last words to him and Kyōjurō knew that she’d been referring to his soulmate. How could he not? Though he had been but a mere child then, he could still notice all the grief his mismatched eyes caused his parents – namely his father. He saw how often Shinjurō would cast subtle glances at the eyepatch that hid his soulmate’s eye from the world. A conflicted expression would always rest upon his face whenever he did so, although Kyōjurō could never tell what exactly lay behind it. And he noticed it, how often his father would remind him more than he did with Senjurō, that demons were the enemy who preyed on the innocent and deserved no mercy. But he didn’t mind the extra reminders, always wholeheartedly agreeing with him.  

So, why had his mother left him with those final words? He’d always clearly expressed that he had every intention of following in his father’s footsteps to become the next Flame Hashira, and in doing so, rejected the very notion of his soulmate. Every time he picked up his practice sword to train, with the sole goal of being able to protect the weak, he was following his heart. Not once had he wavered over what he should be doing. So…why? He had puzzled over her words for the longest times.

He never harbored any grievances towards the fact that his soulmate was an Upper Moon. Sure, hiding his eye all the time was a bit tiring and troublesome, but it wasn’t your fault. After all, it hadn’t been as if you’d specifically picked him to be your soulmate. And it weren’t as if you had caused him or his family any harm. He had absolutely no reason to hold any personal grudges against you.

As a matter of fact, even though he’d see your eye reflected back at him on the occasions that he’d take off his eyepatch and gaze into the mirror, he always felt a strange sort of detachment. To him, you were simply a demon whom had taken many lives and needed to be killed for the future safety of many others. Perhaps your eternal life would be ended by a demon slayer before the two of you would ever meet, or perhaps Kyōjurō himself would be the one to end you. Soulmate or not, it was his duty to protect all the precious human lives out there from the likes of your kind.

At least, that’s what he’d told himself throughout his entire life. And yet, as you stood there before him, hesitant but captivating smile on your lips, all of that shattered into tiny pieces.

Kyōjurō had wondered from time to time about what you would look like, but never did he expect you to be so enchanting. Everything about you was perfect. Were you truly a demon? It seemed more fitting to call you a celestial being.

He stared at you with a wide eye, the right words to say completely eluding him. Then, all of a sudden, an intense heat flashed through his left eye. Though it was an extremely strange sensation, it was far from unpleasant. Still, he brought his hand up to his eyepatch out of reflex and you, almost simultaneously, did the same while lowering your head.

When you looked back up at him a few seconds later, hand dropping away from your face, he inhaled sharply at what he saw. Your eyes, which had appeared as those of a human mere moments ago, had now reverted back to their original demonic look, unnaturally vibrant with kanji etched across them. It felt so odd, seeing the eye that had been his since birth returned back to its rightful owner. However, the thing that shocked him most was the rank displayed on your right eye.

Three?!

Out of all the Upper Moons, his soulmate had to be rank three. That meant that as of the current moment, he had the fourth strongest demon in the entire country standing right in front of him.

“Is…Is something wrong…?” You hesitantly asked, not seeming to realize what had happened, but certainly noticing the way he was looking at you.

“Your eyes are, uh…” Still reeling from the shock, Kyōjurō wasn’t quite sure what to say. He tapped a finger against his eyepatch, “I can see your rank.”

Panic flitted over your face at his words and you immediately turned your face away. The next time you look at him, your eyes were back to their human appearance. The two of you stared at each other in silence, each trying to guess the other’s thoughts and waiting for them to speak first. Well, this was turning out to be one very awkward first meeting between soulmates.

“I, err… I apologize that you had to see that?” You ended up being the one to speak first, though you sounded completely uncertain about your own words.

Were you really Upper Moon Three? Were you really a demon that had killed numerous people? Your entire demeanor seemed so… So human-like. Looking at you, all he saw was someone elated at finally meeting their soulmate, someone who wanted to create a good impression and yet was nervous about making a blunder, someone who feared that their soulmate would reject them. All of those were emotions Kyōjurō would attribute to a human, not a demon. He couldn’t even sense a hint of malice from you.

But the memory of the kanji engraved across your eyes flashed through his mind, proving to be a harsh reminder that he couldn’t afford to let his guard down around you. Though he intended to question you about your motives behind acting so docile, he couldn’t quite bring himself to do so when he saw your hopeful expression. Quietly clearing his throat, Kyōjurō gave you the brightest smile he could muster. “Come on now, you shouldn’t be apologizing during our first meeting! Besides, you have absolutely no reason to do so in the first place, especially since it was effect of our soulmate bond.”

Your face lit up at his positive response and in that moment, his heart melted. He watched as your gaze then drifted past him, trained on a large, noisy group of people passing by. Your eyes narrowed ever so slightly in annoyance and though he found that simple action to be strangely alluring, he couldn’t help but feel alarmed for their safety. You were a demon after all. Who knew what you were capable of? His hand tensed, ready to draw his katana if needed.

Much to his relief, however, you eventually looked back at him and suggested, “Shall we go to some place quieter, er…?” Trailing off, you tilted your head with a questioning gaze.

It was then that he realized he had yet to give you his name, and you yours. “Ah, I am Kyōjurō Rengoku, the Flame Hashira.” He gave a slight bow as he introduced himself, not missing the way your eyebrows shot up in surprise.

Since he knew what rank you were as an Upper Moon, he thought it fair to let you be aware of his position in the Demon Slayer Corps. And if this piece of information changed the way you viewed him – such as being a threat that needed to be eradicated immediately, soulmate bond be damned – then it would be better to get it out in the open now, rather than later.

After a moment, you simply mirrored his bow and said, “It’s such a delight to finally meet you, Kyōjurō. You can call me [Name]. As you might have noticed earlier, I'm Upper Moon Three.”

No surname, he noted. Then again, none of the demons he had encountered before seemed to have one either.

“Well then, [Name]. Shall we?” Kyōjurō extended his hand towards you and upon seeing your puzzled expression, added, “Since it’s very crowded around here, we should try to avoid losing each other.” If neither of you intended to kill each other at that moment, then it would only be proper to behave as a gentleman towards his soulmate.

“Of course, if you’re not comfortable with that, then…”

As he began to withdraw his hand, you hurriedly grabbed it. “No no! It’s a good idea.” Your skin felt cool against his own and though you seemed slightly flustered by his sudden suggestion, you also appeared quite thrilled.

Thus, the two of you set off through the heart of the city, remaining hand-in-hand while scouring for a decent place to rest and talk at. Eventually coming upon a teashop with few costumers – which you had pointed out – it was settled between you both to go there.

So there he was, sitting across the table from you with a cup of tea in his hands. You had gotten one for yourself too – much to Kyōjurō’s surprise, as he thought demons were unable to consume human food or drinks. However, whenever you brought your cup up to your mouth, you simply wetted your lips instead of actually drinking the tea. Was this your way of trying to be considerate and make him feel more at ease? Well, he was probably getting ahead of himself, but it certainly made for an unexpected and rather heartwarming thought.

Neither of you spoke for a while, simply taking in each other’s appearance. And then, with your gaze lingering on his uniform, you asked, “Were you in the middle of working?”

Kyōjurō shook his head, taking a sip of tea before replying, “I had actually just finished a mission before we met.”

“Ah, I see…” You pursed your lips, not sure of how else to respond. It must have felt odd for you, hearing a demon slayer – and a Hashira, no less – talk about killing your brethren through a calm conversation over tea. Shifting uncomfortably, you then brought up your next question. “Do you intend to fight me?”

He raised an eyebrow, finding your choice of words interesting. Do you intend to fight me, instead of, do you intend to kill me. Were you implying that you believed yourself to be much stronger than him, therefore there was absolutely no chance that he would be able to kill you? Well, he may have been a mere human, but he was by no means weak.

Although his answer should have been an instant ‘Of course!’, he instead shook his head once more, gripping his cup tightly as he answered, “…Not for now, no.”

Guilt had begun to grip his heart before he’d even finished his sentence. Just saying those four words were like a betrayal to everyone he knew: his mother, father, brother, master, fellow Hashiras, the rest of the Demon Slayer Corps, as well as all of its fallen members. And more importantly, by not killing you the very instant he'd met you, he had turned his back on his position as a Hashira and condemned innocent people to die by your hands in the future. Kyōjurō knew all of this and yet, somehow, for some reason unknown to himself, he couldn’t quite bring himself to kill you.

Clenching his jaw, he didn’t realize just how much strength he’d been putting into holding his cup until it shattered, hot tea spilling over his hands. You gasped, immediately reaching over the table and using your sleeves to wipe the liquid off his skin.

“They’re red.” With a concerned tone and a knitted brow, you carefully took his hands into your own and examined them. “It looks like you didn’t cut yourself, so that’s good.”

When a server hurried over to see what the noise had been about, you requested for some cool water and a clean cloth so that he could soothe his hands. Kyōjurō had tried to protest, saying that it wasn’t a big deal and he felt fine, but you stubbornly insisted.

“Humans are such fragile creatures. You have to take care of yourself or you won’t know what will happen.” You huffed, almost sounding like a nagging spouse. As Kyōjurō let out a small chuckle, you wetted the cloth the server had brought and began gently dabbing it over his reddened skin.

“Please have some faith in me, [Name]. I’m sturdier than you think.”

With a light laugh, you playfully teased, “Right, tell me that after the next time we’re able to have tea without you burning yourself.”

Kyōjurō exchanged an amused smile with you, the mood now more relaxed and lighthearted than before. The two of you continued to chat and though touching on various topics, there seemed to be an unspoken agreement between the both of you to refrain from bringing up any subjects on the conflict between humans and demons. Time passed quickly and before either of you knew it, dawn was rapidly approaching.

Glancing out the shop’s window, the grin you wore from his joke mere seconds ago began to fade.  “…I should probably get going now.”

Kyōjurō looked out as well and when he saw the sky’s dark beginning to gradually lighten, doubts which he’d managed to distract himself from through his conversations with you started to flood back in. If he wanted to, he could easily try to keep you here until the sun’s first rays were able to reach you. That’s what he should be doing as the Flame Hashira. And yet, something in him held him back. Was it guilt? Sudden fear of losing the soulmate he’d just met? Perplexment at how different you were from how he’d imagined you? He couldn’t quite pinpoint the exact emotions that prevented him from drawing his blade and all he could do was sit there, watching as you procured a small bag from within your sleeve.

The clinking of coins sounded from within the bag as you plopped it onto the table. His eyes widened when he realized what your intentions and he immediately began reaching for his own money.

“No, please let me-“

You raised your hand to stop him. “I insist. Consider this as my thanks towards you for giving me your time tonight.” The corner of your lips tugged back up into a playful smile at his reluctant expression and you added, “But if it makes you feel better, then you can repay me by meeting up with me again some time. I know your schedule must be busy with the kind of work you do, so when you have the time, come find me at that abandoned shrine near the western outskirts of the city.”

Not waiting for his response, you rose from your seat and bowed in farewell. “Until we meet again, please stay safe, Kyōjurō.”

Though slightly taken aback by your sudden rushed demeanor and having not been able to properly agree to your suggested rendezvous, he quickly got to his feet and bowed in return. “I pray that our next meeting will be as harmonious as this one.”

“…Indeed.” Was all you simply responded with before you hurried out of the shop, now in a race against the rapidly approaching sunrise.

Kyōjurō sat back down as he watched you go and remained there long after you’d left, all the while mulling over the soulmate bond he shared with you and the consequences that would inevitably result from it.

———

“Useless!”

A sake cup smashed against the wall next to Kyōjurō’s head, splattering its contents onto him. He didn’t even so much as flinch, however, simply letting out a soft sigh as he gazed on at his raging father in a steadfast manner.

Shinjurō gritted his teeth, his foul mood further spurred by the irritation he felt towards his eldest son’s calmness. He jabbed a finger towards Kyōjurō’s left eye, which no longer remained hidden away behind an eyepatch. “You come home, flaunting the fact that you’ve met your soulmate, and you’re telling me that you didn’t even kill them? You had an Upper Moon in front of you and you let them go.” Banging his fist on the table in front of him, he raised his voice into a shout. “You let an Upper Moon go! What the hell is wrong with you?!”

Then, he suddenly quieted down as quickly as he had began yelling. Letting out a resentful scoff, he sneered at his son. “You’re always sprouting crap about doing your duties as a Hashira and protecting the innocent, but look at you now, going soft over a demon. Well? What rank are they? I bet they’ve killed more people than all of the demons you’ve killed combined.”

Kyōjurō pressed his lips together, knowing that his father was right. Even now, as he sat in front of his father to be berated, he still felt conflicted over his choice of letting you go.

Taking no notice of his silence, Shinjurō took a large swig from his sake bottle before continuing on his rant. “You know, when you were born, I worried that other slayers might call you a traitor. Looks like I worried for nothing, since you really are one now. But who cares, right? Go ahead, continue being a Hashira! Whether you bed a demon or not won’t matter, since every other person in the Corps are fakes, just like you. All their breathing techniques are just cheap imitations.” He grumbled the last part, downing more sake at his rising anger. “And while you’re out there, parading around with your hypocrisy, why don’t you go dragging the Rengoku name through dirt? Help yourself in trampling on the family’s honor too! Go against everything that Ruka-“  

Shinjurō abruptly stopped at the thought of his late wife, a shadow of grief crossing over his face.

“Father-“ Kyōjurō began, only to be interrupted.

“Get out!” The older male snapped as he turned his back to him, emptying his sake bottle in an attempt to numb the old wound left on his heart by his wife’s passing.

Knowing that there was no use trying to carry on their conversation, Kyōjurō rose to his feet.

“Please take care of yourself and try not to overdrink.”

Leaving his father with those words, he exited the room. As he slide the door closed behind himself, a loud shattering noise could be heard coming from within. No doubt it was Shinjurō smashing the sake bottle out of anger towards Kyōjurō’s parting words.

Kyōjurō heaved a deep sigh as he briefly leaned against the wall near the door, tiredly closing his eyes. He’d expected this reaction when he decided to tell his father about his soulmate, but there had been the smallest spark of hope in him that Shinjurō would be more accepting of the news. He couldn’t help but wonder how his mother would have reacted, had she still been with them. Would she be as disapproving as her husband? Or would she have been more accepting and understanding?

“Brother?”

Senjurō’s timid voice suddenly broke his chain of thoughts. Opening his eyes, Kyōjurō pushed himself off against the wall as he smiled brightly at his younger brother. “Senjurō! What brings you here? If you’re looking for Father, I believe he’s just left to buy some more sake. I might have put him in a foul mood, though.”

He let out an awkward laugh and Senjurō shook his head. “I, um… I heard what Father said to you…”

Kyōjurō’s smile faltered for a moment. Well, their father had been loud. It’d be hard not to hear him, even from all the way down the hall. “Ah, pay him no mind. You know how he can get when he drinks.”

“I…I know. But…” The youngest Rengoku fidgeted, wanting to say something but seeming uncertain about it. However, at his brother’s encouraging gaze, he worked up his courage and came out with it. “I-I trust you, Brother! No matter what Father says, if you think what you’re doing is right, then you should keep going with it! Even if Father disapproves, I’m always here to support you!”

Caught off guard by the unexpected consolation, Kyōjurō blinked. His gaze then softened and he reached out, ruffling his brother’s hair. “Thank you, Senjurō. It makes me happy to know that I can rely on you.”

Senjurō’s cheeks reddened and a small, but happy smile appeared on his face. They stayed like that for a minute, enjoying the brief bonding time between brothers. That was, until Senjurō abruptly leaned in and sniffed him. His nose crinkled slightly as he drew back, “You smell very strongly of sake, Brother.”

“Do I?” Brows furrowed, Kyōjurō sniffed the parts of his hair and clothes where sake had gotten splashed onto earlier. “It doesn’t seem very obvious to me.”

With a small laugh, Senjurō shook his head and took hold of his hand, beginning to drag him off to the washroom. “Come on, I’ll help you wash your hair. And while I do that, you can tell me all about your soulmate!”

Kyōjurō obediently followed his younger brother, his lips stretched out into a grin. He gave his hand a gentle squeeze, feeling at ease now knowing that no matter what choice he made towards his future with you, Senjurō would always be there for him.  

———

The following week, he met up with you at the abandoned shrine as planned and you had greeted him so happily, as if you hadn’t actually expected him to show up. Though Kyōjurō had arrived feeling uncharacteristically tense, not quite knowing what to anticipate from the rendezvous, the endearing grin you gave him put him a little more at ease.

That night ended up being rather similar to your previous meeting, with the two of you just chatting and getting to know each other further while enjoying a beautiful view of the stars twinkling above. It would have made for a rather romantic date, had Kyōjurō not remained on guard the entire time. He kept his wariness well hidden behind an easy-going smile, ready to defend himself the instant you decided to launch a surprise attack on him. It was true that at that moment, you lacked any animosity towards him. However, demons were fickle creatures who would kill at the simplest flick of a switch and he didn’t know when or if your attitude towards him would change.

But lo and behold, not once did there come a time where Kyōjurō needed to draw his blade and the two of you ended up parting with the promise of another meeting. And thus began the frequent trysts between you and he. With each night he got to spend with you, his guard began to gradually lower and his relaxed façade soon became genuine.

At some point, he stopped wearing his eyepatch whenever he met up with you. While he still wore it around others, like his fellow Hashiras to prevent them from asking questions, he figured there wouldn’t be any harm in going without it around you. It was much more comfortable, plus he could see better, and you seemed to enjoy seeing him without his eyepatch. There were times when he’d find you just randomly gazing into them and when he asked you about it, you told him how you loved his eyes and how comforting they seemed – like warm, gentle flames in which one could easily lose themselves in. He’d be lying if he said that he hadn’t been flattered by your words.

Being only a city away, the shrine was located at a convenient spot to get together. It was far away enough from the Rengoku estate that someone would have a difficult time following him and finding out about you, and it was close enough to get to – well, it'd be hard for an average person, but Kyōjurō was far from average. Not to mention, it had long been abandoned so people almost never came by. That being said, the two of you began going on dates in the city and the neighboring areas. Night festivals quickly became a favorite date spot for you guys and you'd often go whenever there was one. At some point, it became a mini competition between you to see whom could win the most prizes.

As an avid sumo fan, Kyōjurō would often invite you to watch matches with him. He took no offense when you declined, as everybody had their own preferences. But he’d always be delighted when you went to watch with him. After all, who doesn’t love sharing the things they enjoy with those close to them?

When he told you that he enjoyed eating sweet potatoes and salt grilled bream, he underestimated the effects it would end up having. Not too long after he'd shared that small bit of information with you, you had presented him with a bento you cooked yourself. Kyōjurō eagerly accepted it, touched that you had gone out of your way to make it for him. However, he neglected the fact that you were a demon whom had lived for centuries and hadn’t eaten a single morsel of human food during that time. So when he took a big and unsuspecting bite of your glazed sweet potatoes, he almost died.

Kyōjurō appreciated the fact that you had cooked for him, he really did. But your cooking was, to put it bluntly, absolutely horrible. Glazed potatoes were supposed to be both savory and sweet, not overwhelmingly bitter. Was that also a hint of sourness he tasted?? And the texture. Oh god, the texture. It was a mixture of mushy, hard, and even just pure goop at some parts. He had always thought he’d be able to love every sweet potato dish he came across, no matter how bad they may have tasted. This however… Could it even be classified as edible?

Well, no matter! You had been so proud when you presented it to him and he refused to let anything you gave him go to waste. Once he’d gotten over his initial shock, he finished his bite, gave you a big smile, and shouted his usual ‘Umai!’. Then, he turned his attention onto the included salt grilled bream. It looked good, just like the sweet potatoes had. Question was, would it taste as bad? Though hesitant, he took another bite, albeit much smaller than the previous one. Thank goodness he did, because it was somehow worse than the potatoes. Had you mixed up the salt with sugar? Because eating that one bite of fish was like eating a bowlful of sugar. The flesh was also crunchy and he was certain it wasn’t because of the bones. He was also quite sure you had forgotten to descale the skin before cooking. But just like with the sweet potatoes, he forced himself to gulp it down and attempted to finish the entire bento. It went relatively well, until it didn’t.

“Oh my god, Kyōjurō! You’re turning green!”

With a horrified gasp, you snatched the box away from him. Though he’d tried to take it back, insisting on finishing it, you refused to let go of it. Instead, you had declared that you would keep trying until you were able to create a dish that he would find delicious. And while Kyōjurō was moved that you were determined to put in so much effort for his sake, at the same time, he couldn’t help but dread the impending assault on his tastebuds.

For the next three months, every time he was able to meet up with you, you had a fresh batch of potatoes and fish waiting for him. Sometimes you’d change things up and cook other dishes, but they were always as bad. Kyōjurō still ate them all though. As much as you’d allow him to eat, that was. You didn’t allow yourself to be fooled by his shouts of ‘Umai!’ and would always stare intently at him as he ate. If his eyebrow so much as twitched, he would find his meal gone from his hands in an instant. And finally, the day came when the contents of his bento actually tasted like real food. It was, at best, just enough to be considered as decent, but to Kyōjurō, it was the best thing he’d eaten. He may or may not have shed a happy tear or two, which may not have been a very good idea, as upon seeing that, you were once more filled with determination and had declared that you'd make it your goal to master cooking all of his favorite foods.

———

One night, out of curiosity, Kyōjurō had asked you what your Blood Demon Art was. He hadn’t actually expected you to tell him though. After all, even if the two of you had grown close, you probably wouldn’t want to reveal what your fighting techniques to someone who was technically your enemy. But to his surprise, you’d happily answered and even went as far as to actually show him, withdrawing a pair of mai-ougi* from inside your sleeves. You explained that while the fans themselves were weapons – with the edges being as sharp as a blade – its true power lay in what was painted on them. Each fan had a different painting on them and whenever someone looked at them, they would be hit with different effects depending on which they looked at. To demonstrate, you opened up one and allowed him to take a look.

At first, all Kyōjurō saw was a painting of a woman dancing with a mai-ougi in hand, the background a sky of gold with faint cloud patterns. It was a beautiful painting, but nothing special particularly stood out to him. That’s when it happened; the moment he locked eyes with the woman, his surroundings instantly changed and he found himself on a stage with a golden backdrop, four women with appearances identical to that of the woman in the painting lunging at him from every side. The edge of their fans glinted dangerously and just as he drew his weapon to fend them off, he suddenly found himself back in reality with you, the previously open mai-ougi now closed. You grinned at him as he tried to calm his pounding heart, clearly proud of your Blood Demon Art.

“They’re clearly much better than those metal slabs that Dōma lugs around.” You had proudly proclaimed, although it was more to yourself than to Kyōjurō.

He had no idea who you were talking about but decided not to probe into it when he noticed the extremely fierce look in your eyes. Instead, he asked about the effects of the other fan. Happy to show him your powers once more, you spread open the second fan and revealed a painting of a daimyō* sat atop a pitch-black horse against a blood red background, tessen* in one hand. When Kyōjurō’s gaze met with the one in the painting, rather than finding himself in a different environment, he was suddenly filled with an overwhelming sense of fear so great that it immobilized him. Now, Kyōjurō was not a man who would typically freeze from fear. And yet, it took a great deal of willpower to even just move his eyes enough to tear them off the painting and free himself of its effects.

If there was one thing he had to say about your Blood Demon Art, it was that it was as every bit dangerous and powerful as he’d imagined, if not more. Though the painting had influenced him for no more than a few seconds, to him it’d felt like much, much longer. Had he been in a real battle with you, he most likely would have died the moment he froze up. Or who knows? Maybe his survival instincts would have kicked in and override the mai-ougi’s powers. Well, battle or not, it was good to know what exactly you were capable of.

Once Kyōjurō had regained his composure, you suggested that the two of you have a sparring match –with you fighting with your fans closed, of course. He immediately accepted, not wanting to waste the opportunity of being able to fight against an Upper Moon without it being a life-or-death situation. In the end, he lost the spar as expected. However, he found his loss to be an extremely fruitful one, as he’d been able to notice the weak points in his own fighting style much quicker than he normally would have by sparring with his fellow Hashiras.

Needless to say, it quickly became a common thing for the two of you to have random sparring sessions. Sometimes you’d be on the offensive with him on the defensive, and vice versa. Either way, Kyōjurō would always be able to learn a thing or two from each spar and you would also give him advice from time to time. Although you hardly gained anything from doing this – maybe except for familiarizing yourself with the Flame Breathing style – you were always more than happy to spar with him, glad that you could help him get even stronger.

———

Kyōjurō truly enjoyed spending time with you, cherishing every moment he could. Yet, no matter how many happy nights he shared with you, he couldn’t ignore the guilt that had rooted itself so deeply into his heart. Guilt that he felt towards neglecting part of his duties and at the thoughts of how many people fell prey to you the longer he left you alive. It became someone of a frequent occurrence for him to remain awake for hours during the times he was supposed to sleep, plagued with all sorts of gut-wrenching emotions. But no matter how much the guilt continued to pile up, he couldn’t bring himself to kill you. He finally understood now, what it truly meant to have a soulmate.

A soulmate wasn’t someone whom the universe had randomly picked out for him and whom he was obligated to love. A soulmate was someone who complemented him better than anyone else out there, who understood him and accepted him for everything he was, who stood by and supported him, and so much more. His better half, if you will. The universe was only there to help make identifying his soulmate easier; it was up to him whether he chose to love you or not. And Kyōjurō did. He loved you.

He didn’t know exactly when he had begun to fall in love, but by the time he realized it, he was in too deep to turn back.

He could still remember how clear the sky had been, each star twinkling like jewels and the full moon’s light bathing everything in a soft silvery glow. The two of you were on the shrine’s engawa to admire the view, his head resting in your lap and your fingers running through his hair. A comfortable silence filled the air between both of you with the occasional chirping of crickets being heard from off in the distance.

Basking in the peacefulness of everything, he closed his eyes in bliss. You continued to run your fingers through his hair for a short while, stopping when you quietly spoke, “…Kyōjurō?”

He hummed softly in response.

“I love you.”

Kyojruo’s eyes snapped open and when he looked up at you, he found you gazing down at him with a tender expression. Well, that was certainly one very sudden confession. Though the two of you had been intimate with each other for a while now – such as being physically affectionate, going on dates, and even buying gifts for each other that only couples would normally exchange – neither of you had ever vocalized your feelings towards each other. Even then, while he’d acknowledged to himself that he liked you, he never quite dwelled on the thought of whether he loved you. After all, it would unacceptable if he, a slayer of demons, were to fall in love with a demon, wouldn’t it?

And yet, after hearing your words, he knew without needing to think about it or question himself.

Sitting up, he brought a hand up to your cheek and gently caressed it, leaning in until your lips were almost touching. He paused, wanting to give you time to push him away in case you didn’t want this. All you did, however, was lean in into his touch as your eyes fluttered closed with anticipation. That’s when Kyōjurō closed the remaining space between the two of you, softly pressing his lips against yours. Your lips were cold against his, just like the rest of your body. But as you kissed him back, all he felt was a gentle, yet passionate warmth. In that moment, he let all his doubts and concerns melt away, instead allowing himself to be overtaken by his feelings for you and conveying those emotions through the kiss.

Eventually pulling away, he rested his forehead against yours and gazed into your eyes with adoration as he softly murmured, “And I love you, [Name].”

———

*Mai-ougi are folding fans used in traditional Japanese dances *Daimyō were feudal lords who used to serve under the shogun *Tessen are also known as Japanese war fans and have varying looks and purposes

[perfectsunlight]

(𝟔𝟔) - 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐮𝐧𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐫𝐲

𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌: none

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬: 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮

jimin knew she messed up badly.

she knew she was screwed the moment you walked out on her in the middle of your breakup argument. the ache in her chest was digging a hole straight into her heart, gnawing at her soul as she stood there, watching you disappear past the door. 

the idol-to-be replayed the argument in her mind, dissecting every chance she had to tell you the truth and how she didn’t. she realized how thoughtlessly she had acted, driven by fear and frustration.

as the night went on, the gravity of her actions hit her like a ton of bricks, and a wave of remorse washed over her. the realization of the irreparable damage she had caused consumed her, and she felt an overwhelming sense of helplessness.

which is what led her to not being able to sleep that night. she tossed and turned, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. the weight of her mistakes pressed heavily upon her, suffocating any semblance of peace. her heart raced, and her breaths came in shallow gasps as she grappled with the consequences of her impulsive behavior.

every time she closed her eyes, vivid images of your pained expression and the sound of the slamming door replayed in her mind. she could almost taste the bitterness of her regret, like a poison spreading through her veins. the ache in her chest intensified, its persistent gnawing a constant reminder of the magnitude of her actions.

in the darkness of her room, jimin found herself trapped in a vicious cycle of self-condemnation. she questioned her own worthiness of love and doubted whether she could ever mend the shattered pieces of your relationship. her restless body tangled in the bedsheets mirrored the tangled mess of emotions within her, the very same sheets you once laid in yourself. 

unable to find solace in sleep, jimin finally surrendered to the persistent thoughts that plagued her. she rose from her bed, her determination fueled by a desire to make things right with you, the girl she loved more than anything in this world. 

which is what led to her heading straight to the farmers market at the first glimpse of daylight. with its bustling crowds and vibrant array of colors, offered the girl a brief respite from her troubled thoughts. the scent of fresh produce and the small chatter of vendors created a soothing ambiance that momentarily distracted her from the ache in her chest.

as she strolled along the aisles, her eyes scanned the vibrant fruits and vegetables on display. they were nice, but they were not what she was looking for. she knew exactly what she needed.

finally she found a vendor selling flowers. the older man smiled at her as he watched her pull out some bills to pay him. “do you know which ones you want?” he asked. jimin’s eyes met his with a half smile as she handed him the money, “i do. tulips please.”

“does the color matter?” he said aimlessly, hands moving to assemble the small bouquet. the raven haired girl hummed in thought before picking the white ones. 

with the bouquet in hand, jimin thanked the vendor and left the farmers market, her steps lighter than before. the weight of her mistakes still lingered, but she clung to the belief that the flowers would serve as the start of building a bridge to mend the shattered bond between you two.

but as she walked, she felt herself wondering if this was enough. flowers were nice, but she needed something more. 

a surge of determination coursed through her veins, pushing her to search for something more meaningful, something that would convey the depth of her remorse and her unwavering commitment to making amends. she knew she needed to put in the effort to rebuild the trust she had shattered.

fortunately, she knew exactly where to start. it was about a half an hour trip to the other side of the city, but jimin knew it was worth it. 

you were worth it.

she stumbled across the store during one of her days off with you. you didn’t know it at the time, but ever since that day, jimin had been saving her allowances to buy you something from there.

once she arrived at the jewelry store, she quickly scanned the displays of jewels and metals. her eyes sparkled with a mix of determination and anticipation as she carefully examined the array of gleaming rings before her. she knew that within these precious pieces of jewelry, she could find a token that would express her sincerity and devotion.

her gaze lingered on a delicate golden band adorned with a single shimmering diamond. its simplicity spoke to her, and the hues of gold reminded her of you in every single way. it seemed to whisper to her, a silent assurance that it was the right choice.

with a sense of certainty, the idol-to-be requested to see the ring, her hands trembling slightly with excitement and nerves. as the jeweler gently placed it on a velvet tray, the diamond caught the light, casting a brilliant sparkle.

it was bright and beautiful, just like how you were.

she carefully picked up the ring, feeling its weight in her hand as she imagined it adorning your finger. with every touch, she envisioned the future they could create together—a future that encompassed forgiveness, growth, and a love stronger than ever before.

the decision made, jimin's heart swelled with a mixture of relief and determination. the tulips she had chosen earlier would serve as a symbol of her apology, while the ring would represent her unwavering commitment to you.

leaving the store, jimin cradled the ring and tulips with utmost care. she knew that these tokens alone would not erase the pain or instantly mend what had been broken, but they were tangible reminders of her dedication to the healing process of everything that was broken.

anticipation bubbled within her as she fidgeted with the jet black strands of her hair. her knee bounced up and down as she rode on the bus, each passing moment intensifying the mix of nervousness and excitement within her. 

the bus journey felt like an eternity, the anticipation building with every stop and turn. as the familiar landmarks approached, the idol-to-be’s heart quickened its pace, the weight of her actions and the desire for reconciliation pressing upon her.

finally, the bus arrived at the familiar stop, and jimin stepped off, her footsteps filled with purpose. she navigated the streets with determination, her mind focused on the impending encounter with you. the wind gently tousled her raven-black hair, its movement mirroring the whirlwind of emotions within her.

as she approached your dorm room, she took a deep breath, trying to steady her racing heart. she clutched the bouquet of tulips tightly, their vibrant white petals a visual representation of her remorse and hope for forgiveness. in her other hand, the box rested securely. 

it was now or never. 

with trembling hands, she knocked on your door, her nerves tingling with anticipation. the sound of footsteps approaching sent a surge of both relief and anxiety through her veins. the door swung open and her heart skipped a beat once again.  

“ning, are you okay? where’s y/n?”

the chinese girl glared at jimin, her eyes still puffy from crying after telling you goodbye this morning. it was all jimin’s fault. it was her fault y/n left. 

her fists clenched tighter as she looked up at the older girl. she chose to ignore the flowers and small velvet box that were held in the older girl’s hands, focusing only on the fact that her soon-to-be leader was someone ningning would forever distrust from that day moving forward.

“she’s gone.”

—

“where’s minjeong?” 

jimin looked over at giselle and ningning with a confused look. the chinese girl only pointed to the closed door across the hall, a knowing look in her eyes as she looked at the leader.

the older girl only gave a tight lipped smile before she sighed and sat in the chair next to the sofa. she ran a hand through her blonde hair and looked between the two girls. 

giselle seemed interested in what she had to say. she didn’t seem upset in the slightest. it appeared as if the japanese girl was treating this situation like a tv drama. 

on the other hand, ningning looked very off-put. 

jimin could sense ningning's unease and concern, her normally bright and playful demeanor replaced by a furrowed brow and a slightly downturned mouth. sensing the tension in the room, jimin decided to break the silence and address the elephant in the room.

"ning, are you okay?" jimin asked gently, her voice filled with genuine concern.

“what do you mean she’s gone?”

ningning didn’t hesitate for even a moment before speaking. "i don't know. i mean, was y/n okay after you left her like she meant nothing?" she replied, her voice tinged with accusation.

“it’s all your fucking fault!”

giselle, ever the level-headed one, was quick to chime in and settle the tension brewing. "hey, we don’t know what happened yet. let’s just hear her out okay?" she said softly, putting a hand on the youngest girl’s shoulder.

jimin felt the pang in her chest at the dagger her member threw her way. the air felt heavy, as if it's suffocating beneath the weight of broken promises. every corner of the room seems to crackle with an invisible static, making even the simplest movements feel daunting.

“i’m sorry–” “sorry isn’t good enough!”

the silence that followed was only broken by the occasional sound of strained breaths or the gentle creaking of floorboards under the weight of the leader’s restless feet. each individual present seemed to be holding their breath, their guarded expressions etched with a mix of anxiety, anger, and anticipation.

glances are stolen, but quickly averted, as if afraid to delve too deeply into the eyes of others for fear of revealing vulnerabilities or stirring the simmering tension even further. 

“why didn’t you tell us you were going to busan?”

giselle asked the long awaited question, but it was quickly followed by a fiery stare from ningning. jimin remembered that glare.

it was the same one ning had given her every day for 8 months straight. 

“you promised her, you promised me!”

"i should have communicated better, and i apologize for not doing so," the leader’s voice was gentle yet firm. "but y/n and i needed space to breathe. the media was down our throats, and we just needed to find our own sense of clarity. we were seeking solace, not escaping from the responsibilities of our groups."

“why would she go with you?” ningning’s sharp tongue was quick to attack her leader, eyes full of a buried rage that had been slowly uncovered in the moment.

jimin's heart sank as she felt the weight of ningning's words piercing through the fragile atmosphere. the question echoed in her mind, leaving her momentarily speechless. she understood the pain and betrayal that lingered within the younger girl, and the words she had just spoken were a reflection of the years of deep-seated hurt.

taking a deep breath, karina met ning’s gaze, her eyes filled with a mix of remorse and determination. she knew that she had to address the underlying tension and have this uncomfortable conversation about you.

“i can’t speak for her about how she feels, but what i can tell you is that she said she still loved me.” 

the blonde’s admission hung in the air, heavy with the weight of the unspoken implications. the room fell silent, the only sound heard being her heart pounding in her chest. the leader’s own gaze shifted from giselle to ningning, the two girls handling the news differently.

the chinese girl’s fiery stare softened, confusion flickering in her eyes. how could you still love her after everything jimin had done? how could you trust the girl who broke her promises to both you and her?

“you think i wanted to hurt her? i didn’t mean to!”

ning’s voice, laced with a mix of frustration and defiance, broke the silence. "and what about you? what do you feel?"

“bullshit, jimin! you destroyed the only good thing in your fucking life.”

the room held its breath, awaiting jimin’s response. she was used to searching for the right words to convey the complexity of her emotions. 

but when it came to her feelings for you, there was always a simple answer.

“i love her, i just made a mistake!”

“i love her.” she confessed, her voice filled with a raw vulnerability. the weight of her words settled upon the room, and she could feel the eyes of her group mates fixed upon her, waiting for further explanation.

jimin took a pause to gather her thoughts, her gaze shifting from one face to another, her voice trembling but resolute. "i know my actions have caused immense pain and doubt, and i can't expect forgiveness or understanding easily. but amidst all the mistakes and regrets, my love for her remains unchanged. that i can't deny."

a small smile tugged on giselle’s lips as she listened to jimin's confession, the vulnerability in her voice resonating within her own heart. she, too, had witnessed the tumultuous journey of your relationship, the highs and lows that had shaped where you are now.

ningning's face displayed a mix of emotions—confusion, worry, and a tinge of unsureness. she was worried for you, especially since her leader had destroyed you once. she didn’t know what she would do if she did it again.

gathering her strength, ningning's voice quivered as she asked the question that weighed heavily upon her heart. 

“are you going to hurt her again?”

jimin's eyes locked with the chinese girl’s, brimming with unshed tears. she understood the depth of the wounds she had caused, and she knew that rebuilding trust would not be easy. but she was determined to try. 

“i would rather die than hurt her again.”

the room fell silent once again, the weight of her words hanging heavily in the air. ning and aeri knew that the leader's words were not empty promises, especially now. jimin seemed more determined than ever.

the chinese girl clenched her jaw as she stood up and faced the aespa leader. her breath hitched as she stared into her eyes, jimin’s own breathing ragged as she locked eyes with her.

“i swear to god,” ning’s voice wavered in vulnerable anger. “if you hurt her again, i will despise you. i can't bear to see her go through that pain once more.”

ningning's words hung in the air, charged with a mixture of fear, and protectiveness. the room was filled with the tension of uncertain trust, and the weight of the past hovered like a shadow over their fragile bond.

karina felt the weight of ningning's words seep into her being, understanding the depth of the younger girl's emotions. she knew that her past actions had caused immeasurable pain and shattered the trust they had once shared. but she was determined to prove herself, to show through her actions that she had changed.

"i know my words hold little value at this moment, but please understand that i am committed to changing, to becoming the person she deserves," jimin's voice trembled with a mix of remorse and dedication.

"i will do everything in my power to protect her, to cherish her, and to ensure that my previous mistakes are never repeated. i am dedicated to rebuilding what i had with her,” karina’s hand reached out and rested on ning’s shoulder. “and rebuilding the trust i had with you as well.”

“she loved you, unnie.” ningning whispered, her emotions still running high. she looked at her leader, searching for any signs of deception or insincerity. and while the wounds of the past were deep, she also knew that jimin wasn’t a bad person.

jimin just made a mistake. a foolish mistake in the name of love.

"i want to believe you," the youngest finally spoke, her voice still shaky but now laced with a hint of uncertainty. "but you have to understand that rebuilding trust takes time. i need to see consistent actions that show your love and commitment to her. i won't let her get hurt again, and i won't stand by if things go wrong."

karina nodded, her heart heavy with the weight of her past mistakes and the responsibility of proving herself. "i know. i won't rush you or her. i'm willing to do whatever it takes to make things right, even if it takes me forever.”

ningning's gaze softened, her eyes reflecting the conflict within her heart. aeri, who had been silently observing, finally spoke up. 

“what about you and minjeong?”

at the mention of her fake relationship partner, jimin’s face changed into one of seriousness. it was time to tell the other two members about what happened.

without hesitation, the leader answered in a firm tone. “it was a fake relationship.”

ningning and aeri exchanged surprised glances. they had been unaware of the fake relationship between jimin and minjeong. their confusion was evident, and they waited for an explanation.

jimin took a deep breath before continuing, "when i saw y/n with yunjin that one night at the store, i realized that i still loved her and i panicked. i didn't know how to handle it, and i was afraid that she had moved on. so, in my foolishness, i agreed to a fake relationship with minjeong to show i moved on as well."

she paused, her voice laden with remorse. "it was a mistake, and i know that. but i never had any feelings for minjeong at all, and i ended the fake relationship as soon as i understood that i wanted to try again with y/n."

ningning listened carefully, trying to process everything. she understood that jimin had acted out of fear and confusion, but the pain of being kept in the dark was still present. it would take time to rebuild not only trust in her leader but also trust in their communication as a group.

giselle stepped forward, placing a hand on the leader’s shoulder in a comforting gesture. "we're a team, and that means that keeping secrets only creates more problems. we need to be open with each other if we want to move forward."

ningning nodded in approval, feeling the weight of the situation slowly settling. "she’s right." she turned her gaze back to jimin. "but you should probably talk to minjeong."

jimin nodded, acknowledging ningning's suggestion. "you're right. i owe minjeong an explanation too. i should have been honest with her from the beginning, and i'll make things right with her as well."

the leader was going to pick up the pieces of the mess she made, but that started with pointing out the shards left from the other girl first. 

—

tears cascaded down jimin’s face as she sprinted down the hallway, rushing straight to minjeong’s dorm room and banging on the front door.

panic. that’s what this feeling was. 

she was panicking because this wasn’t the way things were supposed to happen. you were supposed to stay.

when the front door opened, minjeong’s eyeballs nearly fell out of her skull from how wide they opened. the girl in front of her was distraught, and it was written all over her features. “y/n is gone.”

then it was minjeong’s turn to panic. 

“gone? what do you mean gone?” she asked, the fear of the worst rising in her chest. “she is gone, minjeong. she left the company.”

minjeong's heart sank at jimin's words, her mind struggling to comprehend the gravity of the situation. "she left the company?" she repeated, her voice trembling with disbelief and fear. "but why? when did this happen?"

jimin's tears continued to flow as she tried to find the strength to explain. "i don't know all the details," she said, her voice shaky. "i got a call from the company just now, and they said y/n terminated her contract and left. she's no longer a part of the company."

the reality of your departure hit minjeong like a tidal wave, and she felt the ground shift beneath her. she had never imagined that things could come crashing down so quickly and so unexpectedly. 

and it was all her fault. this was all her fault.

"we need to find her," minjeong said, her voice tinged with urgency. "we can't just let her go without talking to her."

the older girl nodded, understanding the importance of the matter. "you're right," she said. "but they didn't give me any information about where she went."

minjeong's mind raced, trying to think of any clue that could lead them to you. "does ning know anything?" she asked the taller girl, hoping that your roommate would have some insight into where you had gone.

jimin shook her head. "i already talked to ning," she replied, her voice catching in her throat. "i don’t think she wants to see me right now."

guilt washed over minjeong as she realized how distant she had been lately, preoccupied with her own emotions and the burden of trying to get you back into the lineup. she wished she had told you instead of doing this behind your back. 

"can we call her sister?”

jimin’s neck nearly snapped from how hard she turned it, fear written all over her facial features. calling your sister was the last thing she wanted to do right now. she didn’t need to be in a casket before her debut.

“no. we can’t call her.” she hurriedly got out, watching as minjeong ran her hands through her own hair. minjeong was getting frustrated with both the situation, and herself. 

the realization set in slowly, reality making itself known in that moment of panic. there was nothing left to do. you were gone, and nothing was going to bring you back.

“i’m sorry, jimin.” minjeong whispered, guilt and regret flooding her senses. it was overwhelming, suffocating even.

the older girl noticed the way the other was sinking to the floor, and the way her chest was rising and falling. jimin moved and gave her a hug, sobbing into her shoulder as minjeong cried into her chest. 

minjeong felt like a failure. she failed as both your best friend and your member. and now, you were gone, and it was all her fault.

yu jimin lost the love of her life, and kim minjeong lost the only real friend she ever had. 

—

minjeong’s nails dug into her palms as jimin sat on the edge of her bed. her icy stare focused on the pattern of her bedsheet’s stitches and the way the fabric rustled as her leg bounced. the room felt heavy with the weight of their unspoken conversation. 

“why’d you do it?”

jimin’s voice was void of any emotion as she spoke, eyes glued to the other girl. she watched every micromovement winter made, from her knee bouncing to the way her eyebrow twitched, all giveaways to the state of mind her member was in.

minjeong's heart pounded in her chest, her anger warring within her. she clenched her jaw tightly, trying to suppress the flood of emotions that threatened to consume her. slowly, she raised her gaze, meeting jimin's eyes.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

jimin frowned, her disappointment evident in her eyes. "don't pretend like you don't know. we both know what i'm talking about."

minjeong's defenses rose as she felt the weight of jimin's accusatory gaze. "it was yunjin who leaked them, not me." she retorted, her voice tinged with frustration.

"oh but she had to get those pictures from someone," jimin snapped, having had enough of the other girl’s evasion. “and the only person who had them was you.”

minjeong's shoulders tensed, her anger brewing as she saw the accusation in jimin's eyes. she wanted to stay angry, to hold onto her resentment and deny it. but she knew there was nowhere left to hide, not anymore.

“i’ve liked you since we were trainees, jimin.”

jimin's eyes widened slightly, her anger momentarily replaced by surprise at minjeong's unexpected confession. the weight of the situation seemed to intensify as the unspoken emotions hung heavy in the air between them.

"minjeong, this isn't the time for this," jimin said, her voice softening just a fraction, but her guarded demeanor still intact. "we have a bigger issue here."

"no," minjeong replied, her voice wavering slightly as she struggled to hold back tears. "that is the reason for these issues. because i have been pining after you for years."

the room fell silent as minjeong's confession hung in the air, her vulnerability exposed like an open wound. jimin's guard softened, her features softening with a mix of sympathy and confusion. she had never expected this revelation from minjeong, and it threw her off balance in the midst of their heated argument.

"minjeong, i didn't know," the leader murmured, her voice tinged with regret. "i had no idea you still felt that way. but it doesn't excuse what happened with the leaked pictures."

the younger girl wiped away a tear that escaped despite her efforts to hold them back. she could feel her heartache becoming intertwined with frustration. "i know it doesn't excuse anything," she said, her voice shaky. "but it's the truth. i never wanted to hurt you. i thought maybe one day you'd notice me, and things would be different, but you were happy with y/n. and i knew that no one, not even me, could compare."

jimin's expression softened further, her anger subsiding as she saw the pain in minjeong's eyes. she couldn't deny the years of camaraderie and shared experiences between them. but she was also hurt by the betrayal she felt over the leaked pictures and other calculated actions.

"minjeong, it's not that i never noticed you," the raven haired girl said gently, trying to find the right words. "i just never saw you in that way. i've always valued our friendship, just as y/n did."

"then why did you do it?" minjeong finally asked, her voice more subdued than before. “why did you propose the fake relationship, knowing i had feelings for you before. even if you didn’t know that i still did, why would you do that?”

the aespa leader looked down, her guilt evident in her posture. "i thought it would help me move on from y/n, or at least make it seem like i had," she admitted quietly. "i didn't realize the full extent of your feelings back then, and i didn't consider how it might affect you."

minjeong swallowed hard, feeling a mix of hurt and anger swirling inside her. "so, it was all just for show? a way to keep the public off your back and boost our image?"

"no, that's not entirely true," jimin said, looking back up at the other girl with a sincerity that broke through the barrier of her emotions. "i do care about you, minjeong. you're one of my closest friends, but this doesn’t take away from what you’ve done."

minjeong let out a bitter laugh, her voice tinged with sarcasm. "honesty. that's a bit unfair."

the room fell into a tense silence once more, both girls grappling with the weight of their emotions and the consequences of their actions. minjeong knew that she had played a part in this mess as well.

“you know what’s unfair?” the leader finally spoke, a firmness in her tone as she folded her arms across her chest. “leaking those photos just because you hold resentment towards your ex best friend.”

“i did it to protect us.” the younger girl answered defensively, eyes narrowing at the leader. “there were cheating allegations about you, and i moved the blame from you to y/n.”

"protect us? our fake relationship?" jimin whispered, her voice laced with disbelief. "by going behind my back? by violating any form of trust between you and i?”

“if you want to see it that way, then yes.” her sharp words were pointed at the raven haired girl as she felt her frustration growing inside her. 

“that's not protection, minejong. it's betrayal."

with those few words, kim minjeong felt the same way she did that day you left the company. 

silence filled the room as the weight of jimin’s words hung heavily in the air, suffocating the space between them. minjeong's heart pounded in her chest, torn between her feelings for her leader and the regret she felt for her actions. 

she knew she had made a terrible mistake, and she couldn't bear it any longer.

"i'm sorry," minjeong whispered, her voice barely audible. "i know it doesn’t undo what i’ve done. i was selfish and confused, and i thought i was doing the right thing."

the leader’s expression softened, her anger giving way to a mix of sadness and empathy. "i understand that," she said gently. "but that doesn't excuse what you did. you hurt y/n and me in the process."

minjeong nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks. "i know," she said, her voice breaking. "and i'll live with that regret for the rest of my life."

the room fell silent again, the atmosphere heavy with the weight of emotions and the damage that had been done. the bond between the two felt strained, and it seemed as if it would take a miracle to repair the shattered trust.

jimin took a deep breath, trying to find some semblance of understanding amidst the turmoil. "we need to be honest with each other," she said firmly. "if we want to move forward, we can't keep things hidden."

minjeong nodded, feeling a small sense of relief that jimin was willing to talk further about these issues. "you're right," she said, wiping away her tears. "i want to be honest with you, even if it hurts."

jimin took a moment to compose herself, trying to put her feelings into words. "i was scared, minjeong. scared of losing y/n, scared of losing the group, scared of everything changing. i thought by pretending to be with you, i could convince myself that i had moved on. but it was a terrible mistake, and i'm sorry i dragged you into it."

minjeong listened to jimin's words, her heart aching for her leader, who was struggling with her own fears and insecurities. she understood now that jimin's actions had stemmed from a place of vulnerability and desperation, but that didn't make the pain any less real.

"i wish you had talked to me," winter said softly, her voice filled with empathy. "we could have faced those fears together, as friends and as a group. the others would have supported you–i would have supported you, no matter what."

karina nodded, tears brimming in her eyes. "i know," she said, her voice choked with emotion. "i wish i had trusted you enough to confide in you. but i didn’t even want to admit to myself that i wasn’t over y/n."

the two girls sat there, their emotions laid bare, the walls between them crumbling under the weight of their honesty. it was a painful process, confronting the truth and the mistakes made, but it was also necessary.

"i don't want to lose you as a friend, minjeong," jimin said, her voice trembling. "you mean a lot to me, and i can't imagine aespa without you."

the younger girl reached out and placed a hand on the leader’s shoulder, a small gesture of comfort and reassurance. "i don't want to lose you either," she said, her voice soft. "we've been through so much together, but i know that we’ve got a long way to go. and i will do anything to rebuild what i can.”

silence lingered between the empty space for a few beats before jimin finally laid the final card out on the table. 

“do you hate y/n?”

the question hung in the air, heavy with anticipation. minjeong took a moment to process the weight of her leader’s inquiry, her mind racing with conflicting emotions. she understood why jimin would ask such a question, given the circumstances and the pain they had all endured, but she couldn't deny the truth.

"no, i don't hate y/n," minjeong replied honestly, looking directly into jimin's eyes. "i never have, and i never will.”

jimin let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, relief washing over her features. "i'm glad to hear that," she said, her voice softer now. "i was scared that you resented her because of what happened."

minjeong shook her head, her hand still resting gently on jimin's shoulder. "i won't pretend that it didn’t hurt, seeing you with her," she admitted, her vulnerability exposed. "but my feelings for you don't justify what i did.”

“she misses you.”

winter felt her heart stop at those words. jimin's confession caught her completely off guard, and her eyes widened in surprise. "y/n?" she stammered, her heart fluttering with fear and apprehension. it had been years since you two last spoke.

and after everything that she had done, she didn’t want to ruin anything anymore.

jimin nodded, her gaze steady and earnest. "she does," she affirmed. "she's hurting too. trust me."

tears welled up in minjeong's eyes as the weight of her actions settled on her shoulders once again. she hadn't wanted to cause you pain, but her misguided attempts had only once again led to more problems.

"she has to hate me," minjeong whispered, her voice trembling with regret. "i would hate me if i was her."

jimin reached out and placed a hand on the other girl’s shoulder, offering comfort and understanding. "you know y/n just as well as i do," she said softly. "she could never truly hate anyone. not even you.”

minjeong's heart swelled with conflicting emotions as she absorbed the older girl’s words. part of her wanted to believe that you could never truly hate her, that your forgiving nature would eventually prevail. but another part of her couldn't shake the guilt and shame she felt for the damage she had caused.

"i don't deserve her forgiveness," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. "i betrayed her trust and hurt her deeply. i don't know how i could ever make it right."

there was no way you’d be able to forgive the unforgivable. you were human, too. you were absolutely going to hate her if you hadn’t already. 

the thought of seeing you again, let alone being face to face and speaking with you, made her want to evaporate on the spot. the fear of rejection and the weight of her past actions loomed over minjeong like a dark cloud, threatening to drown her in a sea of anxiety.

she knew that facing you would mean confronting the pain she had caused, and that scared her more than anything. what if you couldn't find it in your heart to forgive her? the thought of being met with coldness or indifference from someone so warm was enough to send shivers down her spine.

jimin's grip on her shoulder tightened, bringing her out of her head and back to the current conversation. her expression was firm but gentle. the older girl knew you missed your best friend, even if minjeong didn’t understand why she was missed.

"you won't know unless you try.”

┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ ┊ ☪︎⋆ ⊹ ┊ . ˚ ✧

you and jimin met as trainees before she debuted, and you two never felt more in love. however, once she breaks up with you before her debut, you completely leave SM entertainment under the notion of needing a fresh start. you eventually debuted a few years later in le sserafim, where you met huh yunjin and have slowly started developing feelings for the idol. much to karina's dismay, she hates to see you have moved on, but deep in your own heart, you still can't help but feel as if maybe she has forgotten about you.

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