#if you made it this far mwah ily

[in-search-of-a-fallen-star]

sate your appetite

Pairing: Beelzebub/Reader

WC: 1,978

Content warnings: this fic contains smut between two consenting adults. For the purposes of the smut, reader is described to have breasts and a vagina. No pronouns or gendered language are used to refer to the reader. Very slight size kink, towards the end if you squint.

Minors and ageless blogs, DNI. If you interact and don't have an age visible in your bio or pinned I will block you.

Even after all the time you’ve spent in the Devildom, the rules of Fangol are still a mystery to you. It seems to combine the elements of many different human games you vaguely know, and elements you don’t, which you assume to be celestial or demonic. You’ll freely acknowledge that while you’re an appreciator of the sport, you don’t know what’s happening on the pitch. 

After all, you are first and foremost an appreciator of the players. Everyone looks fine as hell, so to speak, in their jerseys. Thirteen cuts a beautiful figure in hers, spoiling for a fight with her hair tied up and paint smeared across her cheeks, her jersey number stamped across her back. The jersey highlights Simeon’s trim waist and lean build; anticipation for the games help break the angel out of his shell, and he looks dangerous with the ball in hand. Even Mephistopheles looks good in the uniform, though you’ll never say that where he can hear it. 

Ultimately though, you only have eyes for your boyfriend. Beelzebub looks amazing in his gear. It highlights the muscles he spends hours in the gym to maintain. While he’s in uniform, you can see the way the sleeves strains against his biceps and every flex of his powerful thighs. The best part is when it’s mid game, and the stadium lights shine on the sweat beading at his brow, his hair is mussed, and his jersey is grass stained and disheveled. 

You’d come to these games anyway, just to support him and your friends, but being able to see him like this is definitely an incentive. 

Even though the rules still elude you, you’re able to pick up that the game tonight is a nailbiter. The points on the opposing scoreboards tick up slowly in a grueling exchange, and the players on the pitch seem especially fired up. You hold Beel’s jacket closer around your shoulders, watching each play with bated breath as the teams fight tooth and nail for victory. 

You can feel the tension in the air as a penalty is called, seconds before the time runs out. The air is thick, and you can feel the crowd around you holding their breath as the teams take the pitch for a redo of the last play. Both teams are tied, and the match comes down to this final point. 

The whistle blows, and there is a clash on the field. You lean over the railing, trying to get a glimpse of what’s happening. You hear a crash, and then far down by the goal, you see Beel stand up, arms outstretched, holding the ball. The crowd surges to their feet and a roar of noise sweeps over the field, one side thunderously crowing their victory and the other booing the victors.

You make your way to the edge of the stands near the entrance to the locker rooms. You can see the team celebrating, and you lean against the railing while you wait. It’s obvious when he spots you, you can see his bright hair pop up out of the crowd and turn towards you, then his broad shoulders part the sea as Beel jogs over to you, a bright smile on his face and helmet in hand. You lean down to cup his flushed face in your hands, and your lips meet in an adrenaline fueled kiss.

Vaguely you can hear his teammates whooping in the background, but you can’t bring yourself to care. You kiss the salt off his lips before pulling back, just far enough that you can meet his eyes. “That was an amazing game. You were incredible out there,” you tell him, brushing his damp hair off his face. 

It’s so charming the way his flush deepens at your praise. “Yeah, both teams played great today.”

His stomach rumbles, and you both laugh. You press a kiss to his forehead before pulling him close and leaving him with a lingering kiss on his mouth. “Go, eat, celebrate with your team,” you whisper to him. “Just come see me when you get back. I have a surprise for you.”

Beel tries not to shiver as your breath skates over his ear and neck. “I don’t know what time I’ll be back,” he warns you.

“That’s okay. We don’t have class tomorrow, so you can wake me up if you get home late.” 

“Alright, I’ll see you later.” He leans up to press a soft kiss to your cheek before turning back to his team, ducking his head at their whoops and cheers. You wave to them as they parade into the locker rooms, watching the last player head inside before you turn to walk back to the House of Lamentation.

You have preparations to make, after all.

Several hours later, you’re curled up in bed with a handheld console Levi had lent you, playing a game that had looked interesting. It helps you pass the time, slowly getting more engrossed in the game until you hear a knock at the door. You know who it is, but you peek through the peephole on your door just to make sure.

Beel stands outside your door, wearing a clean t-shirt and sweats, hair mostly dry from a shower. You open the door for him and usher him inside, taking in the scent of soap and fresh laundry that wafts off his skin. He looks a bit poleaxed as you pull him in, staring at you. It’s a bit unusual, normally he’s a perfect gentleman when he’s with you, but right now he can’t seem to pull his eyes away from the way your chest moves under the numbers on the chest of his jersey, and the way the hem flutters teasingly just below the curve of your ass. 

He’s used to seeing you in his team’s colors- he gives you his jacket to wear anytime there’s a hint of a breeze. But there’s something about seeing you in his jersey, with his number stamped on your chest- his name on your back  has him transfixed. You hide a smile in the curve of your shoulder as you do a little twirl for him. “What do you think?” you ask, stopping just in front of him, well within arm’s reach.

“You look amazing.” He finally drags his eyes away from your chest to meet yours. You can see his gaze darken, and a hunger flares to life in his eyes. Slowly, he walks you back, and your legs hit the edge of your bed. Beel leans down to press his face into the crook of your neck, where you feel him take a deep breath. “And you smell so good.”

His large, warm hand trails up your thigh, fingers dipping underneath the hem of his jersey. He encounters no resistance as his hand swipes up to rest on your hip. Beel stops mouthing at your neck to pull back just far enough to confirm that you are indeed wearing nothing underneath his jersey.

“Just for you, baby,” you coo, dragging the jersey up the rest of the way to expose your pussy, left bare in the warmth of your room. 

He sinks down to his knees, large hands bringing your legs up to rest on his broad shoulders. He trails his hands along the backs of your thighs to grab your ass, giving it a squeeze before he pulls you to rest on the edge of the bed. “I missed you,” he murmurs between your legs, and you can’t tell if he’s talking to you or your pussy. 

You feel his lips moving over the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, pausing to leave love bites as he slowly moves his mouth to where you want it. He starts off slow- Beel had told you once that he likes to savor a good meal, and he considers your pussy to be one of his favorites. Your hips jerk as he circles your clit with his tongue, but you don’t get far, his strong arms holding your hips to his face. 

Falling back onto your elbows, you hold yourself up just enough to watch him work between your legs. He is totally engrossed, kissing your clit wetly and tracing over it in firm strokes with his tongue. He moans at your taste in his mouth, and the vibrations from the sound on your clit trigger a moan in response from you. 

It’s a slow and steady buildup as he eats you out. He holds nothing back but moves at his own pace, and the steadily growing ache in the pit of your stomach is rising towards a toe-curling orgasm. At this point you’ve fully collapsed onto the bed, one hand clutching the covers next to your head and the other buried in his hair. It’s wholly unnecessary; the only thing that could separate Beel from your pussy right now is you asking him to move, but the feel of his hair in your fingers helps ground you. 

As your orgasm steadily begins to crest, you bat at his head.  “Ah, wait, wait, please,” you beg. 

He pulls his head away immediately. His lips and chin shine with your juices, and he looks slightly dazed but his gaze quickly sharpens as he looks you over, checking to make sure everything is okay. 

“Wanna cum with you in me, baby,” you reach down to his face, swiping your thumb over his lip.

Beel rocks back on his heels immediately. You hear the rustle of clothing as he begins to strip, and you turn on shaky limbs to position yourself on your knees. His hands find your skin immediately, and he grinds his cock against you. You hear him moan at the sensation, and you push back against him, his cock sliding through the slippery mess between your legs.

He guides his cock to your entrance with a shaky hand, and pushes in. You both moan at the sensation, the stretch of him filling you. At this point in your relationship you’re well acquainted with how big he is, but the feel of him inside you sends a shiver down your spine every time. 

You feel him begin to rock his hips into you, the head of his cock hitting something inside you on each thrust that makes stars burst behind your eyes. The simmering flames of your orgasm roar back to life, and you feel your limbs beginning to shake as it draws closer.

Beel is a heat at your back, mindlessly tracing kisses up and down your spine as he thrusts into you. You do your best to keep up with him, but ultimately his stamina overwhelms yours and you’re left to face his onslaught and the orgasm that overtakes you. You keen underneath him, shaking apart as you come around his cock. 

He follows you over the edge a moment later, groaning long and low into the nape of your neck as his cock pulses inside you. You feel him bite gently before pressing one last kiss to your neck and pulling away. He leaves your field of vision for a moment, and you flop boneless down to the bed, trying to regulate your breathing. Beel comes back a moment later, a warm washcloth in hand. He watches his cum, mixed with yours, ooze out of you for a moment before swiping a finger through the mess. He brings it to his lips, eyes closed as he savors the taste. 

“Delicious,” he sighs, before gently wiping you down. He tosses the rag into the hamper and lays down next to you, tucking both your bodies under the rumpled blankets and drawing you into his arms. 

The excitement of the day quickly catches up to both of you, and you fall asleep in a warm nest of blankets, wrapped up in each other.

[not-tallytals]

oh tals what do you have to say for yourself?? it’s kai sands fault

[noramoons]

okay enough lurking. hi

[vixiethepixie]

Tagged by the wonderful @jmarcogliese aka @mint-yooxgi Thank you, you wonderful human <3

you’re starring in a movie with the last person saved in your camera roll and the last song you listened to is the title.

ITS A TWO FOR ONE SPECIAL AYYYY

Also low key flabbergasted in a good way by the result 🤭

Tagging literally anyone that feels like doing the trend ily mwah 💕

[goldfades]

★ THE HARD DECISIONS LEAD TO THE GREATEST REWARDS ─── prologue

─ pairing | paige bueckers x fem!reader

─ word count | 2.4k words

─ warnings | unedited, some angst, coach misunderstandings and the feeling of being alienated, transfer-talk, nothing else? little r and p content but this is just the foundation, there will be a lot more coming!

─ ev's notes | as you guys know (OBVIOUSLY) my inbox is open for thoughts on this series and i'd love to know what you think so far, and maybe ideas for future chapters or even the plot itself since i don't have everything figured out just yet. anyways, hope you enjoy this prologue! ily all! mwah mwah

⇨ missing out on updates? check out the masterlist for my series!

May 2022

In a surprising turn of events, collegiate basketball powerhouse UConn has just secured a major coup with the addition of Y/N L/N to their roster. Y/N, once hailed as one of the brightest prospects in the 2021 recruiting class, has announced her decision to transfer from Arizona to UConn.

The news of Y/N's transfer from Arizona to UConn has sent shockwaves through the community, sparking speculation and excitement about the impact she will have on her new team. The timing of Y/N's decision, coming just weeks after the Wildcat's loss to UConn in the NCAA tournament, has led some to speculate about the impact of that defeat on her choice to transfer.

At UConn, Y/N will join a storied basketball program led by legendary coach Geno Auriemma. The Huskies, known for their tradition of excellence and strong team culture, offer Y/N the opportunity for a fresh start and a chance to rediscover her passion for the game.

"We're thrilled to welcome Y/N to the UConn family," says head coach Geno Auriemma. "She's a dynamic player with a bright future ahead of her, and we can't wait to see what she brings to the team."

──

March 2022

The buzzer echoed throughout the court and the UConn girls cheered loudly as they ran up to their teammates on the bench. You felt a lump form in your throat as you swallowed back the tears, your emotions threatening to overwhelm you.

Slumping onto the bench, you buried your face in your hands, the sting of tears threatening to overwhelm you. It wasn't just about the loss, though that certainly stung ─ it was the culmination of months of frustration, of feeling like you were fighting an uphill battle with no end in sight.

You had come to the U of A with high hopes and big dreams, but somewhere along the way, it had all started to unravel. Your coach, once a source of inspiration, now felt like an obstacle standing in the way of your growth. And the teammates, once friends and supposed allies, now seemed more like strangers, each focused solely on their own ambitions.

Inside the locker room, the atmosphere was heavy. Players sat in silence, their faces reflecting a mixture of disappointment and frustration. Coach Johnson's voice cut through the silence, his words measured and deliberate as he addressed the team.

"Look, we gave it our all out there," he began, his tone firm. "But sometimes, the game just doesn't go our way. That's fine, there's always next year and we'll come back strong. Practice is still on for tomorrow morning, 5am to 9am"

Coach Johnson's announcement of another early morning practice felt like a punch to the gut. It was a reminder of everything that had gone wrong, of the sacrifices you had made in pursuit of a dream that no longer felt like your own.

As your teammates exchanged weary glances, you felt a surge of frustration rising within you. Was this all there was to it? Endless hours of practice, sacrifices made in pursuit of a goal that felt increasingly out of reach?

As the team dispersed, heading back to their dorms and apartments, you lingered in the locker room, the weight of the decision you had been wrestling with growing heavier with each passing moment. It wasn't just about one tough loss or a grueling practice schedule ─ it was about reclaiming your sense of purpose, your love for the game that had once been your escape.

"Fuck," you grumbled as you felt the tears fall. You sniffled as you got up from the bench, reaching for your backpack as you began walking out of the locker-room.

You heard the court doors open and some laughter, you held your breath as you ignored the annoyance that filled your stomach. You focused on your feet as you walked, not really watching where you were heading until─you collided with someone, jolting you out of your reverie.

"Oh shit, my bad," the blonde's voice echoed as she glanced at her teammates, giving you a thin lipped smile as she recognized you from the game. She was wearing a UConn jersey as she steadied you with a hand on your shoulder. "Sorry,"

You nodded quickly, wiping your eyes and trying to compose yourself. "You're good," you muttered, avoiding her gaze.

The blonde hesitated for a moment before offering a genuine smile. "Hey, you're a good player. We were all impressed out there. Keep your head up."

You managed a small smile in return. "Thanks."

As she rejoined her teammates and they disappeared down the hallway, you felt a strange mixture of emotions ─ regret for the loss, but also a flicker of hope from her unexpected kindness.

──

"What are you suggesting?" You asked as you met Coach Lindsay's gaze, your expression confused as she sighed ─ you knew what she was suggesting. "A transfer?"

Lindsay nodded, her expression somber. "I hate to say it, Y/N, but I think it might be the best option for you," she said, her voice gentle but firm. "It's clear that things haven't been working out here at Arizona. The coach, the team dynamic and now the whole Alyssa thing... it's all been weighing you down."

You let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through your hair. The idea of transferring had been lingering in the back of your mind for weeks now, but hearing it spoken aloud made it feel all too real.

"I just don't know if I can do it," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "I've put so much into this program. Leaving feels like admitting defeat."

Lindsay reached out and placed a hand on your shoulder, her touch reassuring. "It's not about admitting defeat, Y/N. It's about taking control of your own happiness. You deserve to be somewhere where you can thrive, where you can be supported and valued for who you are."

Her words struck a chord deep within you. For too long, you had allowed yourself to be consumed by the expectations of others, sacrificing your own well-being in pursuit of a dream that no longer felt attainable.

Lindsay hesitated for a moment before speaking. "I'm not supposed to say anything but I've heard talk about UConn being interested in you. They've got a great program, and Coach Geno is one of the best. All you have to do is agree and just trust in the process, babe."

"UConn?" you repeated, the word feeling foreign yet oddly enticing on your tongue.

Lindsay nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. "Yeah. I mean, nothing's set in stone, but it could be worth exploring. Just think about it, Y/N. You will get drafted to the WNBA if you are at a powerhouse like UConn, especially with your talent."

You couldn't believe it ─ your own assistant coach was telling you to transfer. Was your situation at Arizona truly as bad as Lindsay seemed to suggest? You glanced around the locker room, the familiar sights and sounds suddenly feeling suffocating. Had it really come to this? Were things truly as toxic as they seemed, or were you just overreacting?

As you thought about her words, memories of the past few months flooded your mind ─ the grueling practices, the weird relationships (if you could even call them that) with teammates, the constant pressure to perform. Each moment felt like a weight dragging you down, sapping away your passion and drive.

And yet, amidst the uncertainty, there was a glimmer of hope. The possibility of a fresh start at UConn, of rediscovering your love for the game and reaching your full potential felt right.

Lindsay's voice broke through your thoughts, pulling you back to the present. "I know it's a lot to take in, Y/N. But sometimes, the hardest decisions lead to the greatest rewards. Just trust in yourself and follow your heart."

"Maybe you're right," you admitted, the words feeling like a weight lifted from your shoulders. "Maybe it's time for a change."

Lindsay smiled, her eyes shining with pride. "I'm proud of you, Y/N. It takes courage to admit when something isn't working and to take steps to change it. Whatever you decide, just know that I'll be here to support you every step of the way."

🚨 ESPN | BREAKING: Top Prospect Y/N L/N Commits to UConn Transfer 🚨 Y/N L/N, widely regarded as one of the most promising players in the 2021 recruiting class, joins UConn with high expectations. With UConn's storied basketball program and renowned head coach Geno Auriemma at the helm, Y/N's transfer promises to shake up the landscape of women's college basketball.

You glanced down at the notification on your phone, a nervous knot forming in the pit of your stomach. The news of your transfer had spread like wildfire, and now, seeing it plastered across the screen of your phone, it felt all too real.

You took a deep breath, reminding yourself of the reasons behind your decision to transfer. The toxic atmosphere at Arizona, the strained relationships with teammates, the relentless pressure from coaches ─ it had all taken its toll, slowly suffocating your love for the game.

But now, with the opportunity to join UConn, you felt a flicker of hope reignite within you. Here was a chance for a fresh start, a chance to rediscover your passion for basketball and thrive in an environment where your talents would be appreciated and nurtured.

──

"Okay, listen up!" Coach Geno's voice echoed throughout the room, earning the attention of the girls on the team. You stood by the shorter man and somehow, you still felt small underneath his towering presence.

"As you all know," Coach Geno continued, his eyes scanning the faces of each player, "we've got a new addition to the team. Y/N, I want you to know that you're not just joining a team here at UConn ─ you're joining a family. We look out for each other, we support each other, and we push each other to be the best we can be."

"You guys all already know who she is, I know you did your research." His lips quirked up into a small smile as the girls exchanged amused glances within the team. A ripple of laughter spread through the room at his remark, breaking the tension and easing the nerves that had been swirling in your stomach.

"As for you, Y/N," Coach Geno continued, turning his attention back to you, "I want you to know that we're thrilled to have you here. Your talent speaks for itself, but what's even more important is your commitment to the team and your willingness to work hard."

As Coach Geno's words sank in, you couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement mixed with a hint of nervousness. Being welcomed into the UConn family by none other than Coach Geno himself was an honor beyond words.

With Coach Geno's words echoing in your mind, you joined your teammates in a huddle, ready to embark on this new chapter of your life. And as the team broke apart with a chant, you couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation for the season ahead.

──

"And uh, don't eat Azzi's protein bars. She gets angry when she doesn't get her gainz," Paige remarked as Azzi sent her a glare. Everyone at the table giggled at that as you nodded, glancing toward Azzi.

Azzi sighed. "I think that's like common courtesy, P. Y/N knows better than that,"

"Of course, Azzi. I'll make sure to steer clear of your protein bars," you replied with a playful grin, earning a relieved smile from Azzi in return.

"What else..." Paige hummed as she ate chewed on her food, glancing around the table.

"Oh wait, I got one. If Coach tells you to run suicides, just do them without complaining," Aaliyah chimed in, her tone teasing but with a hint of seriousness.

"And make sure you hydrate," Nika added with a smirk, raising her water bottle in emphasis. "Especially during those conditioning drills Coach loves to throw at us."

As laughter erupted around the table, you couldn't help but feel a sense of camaraderie and belonging among your new teammates. "Of course, of course."

"And don't come to practice hungover, Coach will notice and he'll force everyone to run laps," Paige added as she shivered, earning a laugh from Aubrey. "Better for everyone if you just skip,"

"I think you need that advice more than anyone, Paige," Aubrey added as she nudged Paige playfully, eliciting more laughter from the group.

Paige mock-glared at Aubrey before joining in the laughter herself. "Hey, I've learned my lesson the hard way. Trust me, nobody wants to run laps hungover. I'm tryna make sure she doesn't get too carried away, she's from U of A, that's like party central."

You shrugged, a smile playing on your lips. "She's not wrong, if there's one thing I'll miss it'll be the insane parties at Kappa Sigma."

"Ooh, so you're a frat girly?" Aaliyah teased, raising an eyebrow playfully as she leaned in with interest.

You laughed, shaking your head. "Not exactly. Frat boys aren't really my thing," you smiled as you looked down at your plate. "Neither are guys, really."

Paige hummed in response as she smirked, raising her cup in a mock toast as Aaliyah's eyebrows shot up in surprise, but her expression quickly softened into understanding. "Ah, got it. Well, good thing UConn has plenty of other things to offer besides frat parties."

"Yeah, like winning championships," Nika chimed in with a grin, nudging you playfully. "And having the best teammates in the world," she continued, earning a chorus of laughs and "awws".

"Look at Nika getting all sappy," Paige mocked as Nika sent her a glare, earning another round of laughter from the table.

Nika rolled her eyes but couldn't hide the smile tugging at her lips. "Okay, shut up Paige,"

"No, you first."

"I asked first, Paige."

"I don't care, shut up."

"No, you-"

"Okay, that's enough." Azzi sent you a thin-lipped smile as you laughed, enjoying the playful banter between Paige and Nika.

You felt yourself settle into the team more and more with each passing moment, the laughter and camaraderie of your teammates easing any lingering nerves or doubts. As you listened to their stories and shared your own, you couldn't help but feel a sense of belonging wash over you.

These were your teammates, your friends, your family away from home. And as you laughed and joked with them, you knew that you had found a place where you truly belonged.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[vixiethepixie]

I will say, she left out some juicy details BUT she can't spoil everything, ya know? *wink wonk* When she does get around to this series, I promise you it's gonna be WONDERFUL <3

Here for the ATEEZ Dead by Daylight au and the Crack!Yan!Vampire!Ateez X Vampire!Reader pls 🤓🤓

So @vixiethepixie knows ALL about my dbd au by now lmaooo but essentially...

OC is a killer disguised as a survivor meant to sabotage the other survivors during trials. Yeo, Jongho, and san are all survivors. Yunho is the OC's accomplice, and hwa, Joong, woo, and mingi are all killers. Oc can move between the survivor's camp and killer's camps at will, but the survivor's memories usually get wiped if the OC sabotages them so the cycle can continue. Chaos ensues when she attracts the attention of some other killers, and some certain survivors who, oddly enough, begin to remember the strangest of things....

As for the crack au! Essentially, you can thank my discord for this one, but we were fucking around one night and talking about a prompt in which the typical soaked 'damsel in distress' shows up on someone's door, but this time, the damsel is the creature. SO! Vampire!OC rolling up to the castle the Teezers live in now, but the catch is, they're also vampires, so every time either the OC or the guys try to scare/mess with the other, it doesn't work until the truth comes out and the oc is like, "I KNEW IT!!" The castle is the OC's old home, too. Chaos ensues hehehe

[bucknastysbabe]

For king aeg and his smutty angst...

What about a forced/arranged marriage (potentially a team black lady/princess kept by the greens and made to marry aeg?). Of course, she absolutely supports the blacks and therefore hates aegon and the greens. But it's their wedding night, they have to 'do their duty', right?

Brain didn't really come up with anything more than that. It's basically hate sex 😂

ℜ𝔢𝔡 𝔅𝔢𝔡𝔡𝔦𝔫𝔤 - 𝔄𝔢𝔤𝔬𝔫 ℑℑ 𝔵 ℌ𝔞𝔩𝔣-𝔰𝔦𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯!ℜ𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯

I FINALLY DID IT BABY I HIPEBYOU ENJOY MWAH MWAH MWAH MOTHER LANA ILY AND YOUR GOOD VIBES ALWAYS❤️

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: TW//blood play, Degredation, rough handling, Aegon being a fuckhead, some fighting from her, attempted murder, very toxic. Time skips, Consensual sex, pnv!sex, tiddy sucking, FERAL👹, arranged marriage, tb reader

Taglist: @aemonds-holy-milk @aemondfairy @arcielee @dr-aegon @elaratyrell @fairysluna @jamespotterismydaddy @jacesvelaryons @lovelykhaleesiii @peachysunrize @targaryen-madness @towriteloveontheirarms @zaldritzosrose

Divider creds: @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

You were a hostage by law. You were the younger sister of Rhaenyra. Barely made it past a day when your mother died in the birthing bed while a tourney went on, the Maester’s sure you were to be the boy so dreadfully sought after.

Your sister fought for you to be married elsewhere, perhaps a Celtigar or another Velaryon. Viserys had his mind set on uniting his two different lines of progeny.

Therefore you were betrothed to Aegon, born a mere two years after you. It wasn’t on the forefront of your mind as a child, shadowing Rhaenyra for comfort. In a way, she was the motherly figure you had lost. That was more important than some silly thing that would occur far, far away.

Soon she reached her wedding when you were nine. Life grew tumultuous after that. The ever-present Ser Criston was gone and soon replaced by Laenor and Ser Harwin. Rhaenyra had her first child, Jacaerys. You remember holding him and cooing. He was perfect, yet you were not dumb, the babe’s dark hair was frighteningly similar to Ser Harwin's.

By your six and tenth nameday— you faced being surrounded by your other side of the family, aptly named the Greens for their colors of Hightower. After the tragic fight at Driftmark, Alicent quickly sequestered you off. You had wept and torn at your dresses, Ser Criston holding you back with a stiff arm and stiffer face. Your full blood, the only true connection, left on ships and dragons. Your father didn’t seem to even care, too sickly and worn down.

You’d spat at Alicent, “I hate you.”

She shook her head and sighed, “In due time you will thank me. You’ll be a queen.”

Shoving yourself off of Ser Cole, you glared at the man. He spoke, quiet but brutal, “Consider yourself lucky staying back. Wouldn’t want to get caught up in other affairs.” He earned a sharp retort, to which the queen scoffed and you stormed off.

Alone. To be utterly alone.

That was what the next few months encompassed. You were a ghost in a lively keep. Aegon began to peek his unkempt blonde hair around the same time, the prince growing into a young man. He’d already gained a reputation for an insatiable thirst for wine and women— at the mere age of fourteen.

“So will you be eager to bed me? I have quite the experience,” he said. Aegon sat sprawled on the settee across from your seat, nursing some wine. You raised a brow from your needlepoint and hissed, “Oh yes, of course, I cannot wait to have your Flea Bottom-infested cock within my pristine cunt.”

He snorted, red wine dribbling down his plump lips. Aegon grinned, seemingly not phased by your insult. The prince hummed, “How sweet. I’m saying it now, you’ll come to love it.” A rip tore through the air— startling you both. Your eyes peered down at the needlepoint. You’d grown so annoyed you ripped the fine fabric.

Eyes flicking up to Aegon you barked, “Out of here! Now!”

He scurried away, giggling, promising, “Our wedding is going to be fantastic, my lovely blackened heart!”

You grimaced, standing up to dust your gray dress off. Rhaenyra had kept a line of letter with you— urging you to kill Aegon in his sleep or abscond to Dragonstone. Peering at the unstable, absolutely lethal Ser Criston Cole standing outside your door, those options seemed impossible.

You were well aware of the threat Aegon held to the claim as the heir. The Hightowers were pushing it into every corner they could, pulling strings, lining coats with Lannister gold. Perhaps once you married the idiot, things would be different.

Using your body and status to change the outcome of a disputed throne seemed too silly. Hatred and frustration began to boil within you from that day forward. To the Seven Hells with your father and the green-blooded Hightower children. You hoped the Stranger would take Alicent and her loyal armed dog too.

Nyserion was in the dragon pit. You never got to see your mount. The queen knew you'd escape if possible. He waited for you, you could feel that much.

No.

You'd not flee.

To face your fate whether in victory or flames was a source of pride. You'd marry the whoreson, be the good princess, and wait for the time to come. You would not be overtly kind, but you’d come off as subdued, no longer the biggest threat to their plans. You would walk the line.

Your hatred for Aegon grew as time wore on in the Red Keep. The wedding had arrived. You remained stone cold kissing Aegon and taking your vows. Aegon was now eight and ten. The lanky boy had grown into a handsome, yet sulky and difficult man. He recently chopped his hair off, another sign of rebellion.

You could understand wanting to be far away. Emptiness filled your chest when the red and black cloak of yours was covered with green and gold. Rhaenyra performed the sacred act, tears in her violet eyes. Your father was too weary to do the damn thing he declared so long ago.

Aegon had whispered, “I hate this too, you know.”

“Good.”

Then the bells rang and you two were back to the mummer’s farce. Smiling and waving getting into the carriage, the small folk cheering- tilting your stomach. Aegon’s face morphed into that sullen look he carried around when he was sober. You slumped back against the cushions, sighing.

His violet eyes bore into your pale blue ones. Aegon sniffed, “I expect to be bedding you tonight. It is my right now.” Crossing your arms, you looked out of the small window. The prince cleared his throat, waiting for an answer.

“As is my duty, lord husband,” you sneered.

Aegon giggled— that annoying shriek of his. You lashed out, “Glad that is an entertaining topic for you. Go back to your whores once you've done the deed.”

“Maybe. I have to make sure I get an heir off of you. Gods forbid you're anything like your mother.”

Your vision went red, hopping across the wheelhouse to scratch and claw and scream at Aegon. He gasped in surprise, catching some nails across his pale throat, a part of his hair ripped out. The prince forced you down, holding your arms tight to your chest. He frowned, eyes filled with something.

“I’m sorry, okay, relax, we have to finish this night. Relax!”

You didn’t want to cry, yet the tears fell as you warbled, “You’re cruel. Have some shame.”

He sighed, blonde hair a mess now. Aegon gently helped you back into your seat, ordering you to stay put. He knelt beside you, a big hand touching your shaky knee. Aegon’s eyes seemed to hold some guilt as he murmured, “That was wrong. I…apologize…wife.”

The rest of the ride went in silence, Aegon retreating to his side, poorly attempting to reshape his waves. Neither of you smiled entering the keep to be presented to everyone. The first dance was a boring affair, you found no reason for happiness. Rhaenyra was the only boon, her hugging you and speaking words of revenge.

“You shall have whoever you wish. He will not be your source of unhappiness. When I am queen.”

You blocked out the rest of her words, milling over the idea of Viserys dead— Aegon being thrust upon the throne. It would be war, all-out war. Nodding blankly, you hugged your sister once again to head back to the table, heart beginning to beat fast.

Aegon was slouched back in his chair, eyes lazily roving around the dancing. He was quite drunk, slurring as he spoke. The prince asked, “Y’wanna finish this shit?”

“Make the call,” you replied.

The drunken prince stood up and roared, “It’s time for the fucking!”

Men cheered, and women squealed. Rhaenyra was held tight by Daemon— his face placid. Alicent was embarrassed by the crass wording, a ringed hand covering her face. Soon men lifted and tore at your clothes, exposing you horridly. Aegon laughed as the ladies rid him of his garments.

The pair of you were thrust into his dark chambers. You bounced once from the way they tossed you, grunting in pain. The feeling of handprints and raw skin sent a shudder down your spine. Aegon flopped onto the bed, mumbling.

“Well?” You asked.

“I don’t want to fuck you. Not yet anyways.”

A sigh of relief escaped your lips. The tension leaked out of you as you escaped being groped and defiled by the prince. You thanked him quietly, crawling onto the side of the bed, and covering yourself up. Aegon fiddled around before stating, “I’m going to sleep, too drunk to get it up.”

You don’t know why you cried when his breathing turned into a soft snore. Maybe all the emotions boiling over. Soon the tears turned to anger, pissed off from how callous and awful he was. How he would steal the throne. The very image of everything that held you to this gilded cage full of spiders and snakes.

The thought came to you. Lying naked in his chamber, eyes roving around the strange whips and discarded wine bottles. You lit a candle, Aegon dead to the world in his drunken state. You peered around his room, finding a display of carved cocks and plugs of sorts at the end of the bed, frowning. Deviant.

You walked further, stopping as a sharp pain nicked your big toe. Picking your foot up with a hiss, a piece of glass was lodged in the flesh. With a grimace and grunt you pulled it out, eyes trailing up to the broken mirror, smashed to bits. Cornflower eyes scanned the shards.

You peered over your shoulder to the sleeping Aegon, disheveled, shirt off. He almost looked innocent, spared your maidenhead after all. But the shard spilling his blood…seemed all too good. The claw marks from earlier reminded you of what he was. Take the potential usurper heir, one less dragon to deal with. You wouldn’t have his spawn. Your sister was the true queen.

Slowly grabbing a shard, maddened Targaryen bloodlust rising, you crawled atop the bed. Closer and closer you crept, straddling his hips, eyes full of fury. Aegon smiled, eyes closed, plump lips curling upward, “Ah, I told you I’d sway your blackened heart one day. You want something, wife?”

Your hand began to shake as you realized the severity of what you could do. What would happen? Aegon stirred as he didn’t hear your response, violet eyes meeting your own before noting the thick glass. You spat, “I can’t allow this.”

Aegon’s eyes flashed with something besides apathy or sick humor. He was angry. You tried to move, Aegon sending the glass flying with the spatter of blood across your pristine shift. He growled, shoving and pushing you onto your belly.

“Are you that stupid? I always thought you to be more shrewd than that display. Stabbing me in my sleep���You’d be burnt before I bled out, whore.”

You bucked against him, spitting, “You’re a future usurper, a drunk, and a whoreson, your face fills me with rage! I fucking hate this Aegon.” He laughed as he ran his bloody hand down your cheek.

He sighed, a terrifying edge to his usual easy, lackadaisical nature.

“Kind words, dear wife, you think I want to be king? Like I want to rule? Your cunt sister can have it, I have no taste for it.” Aegon readjusted himself, lips almost caressing your skin.

“You’re a bitter little bitch you know that? I didn’t choose this, be mad at our father!” He laughed again, wide grin and sharp teeth glinting in the low light. Aegon’s hand spilled blood onto your nightgown as he whispered into your ear, acrid venom dripping.

“You can be mad all you want, spurn me, I don’t care. But you’re going to learn to deal with me, take my seed, and never pull such idiocy like this ever again!” You grunted in pain as Aegon’s thick fingers curled around your throat.

His plush lips caressed your ear, “That’s reasonable isn’t it dear wife? I’m not a monster. Perhaps you should look in the mirror.” He picked up the shard again, your bloodied face and hateful eyes in the reflection, Aegon grinning. Tears welled up at your nigh unrecognizable face.

He threw it away, still holding your throat, silver hair tickling your pulsing neck. Aegon hummed, “Now promise me. You're going to be a good little wife and take my seed, then no more nonsense.”

You nodded, choking out a ‘yes’!

Aegon let go, you falling to the side to hold your neck, breathing in harsh pants. He looked over you, eyes calculating, dark. You shucked off the bloodied shift, throwing it to the side. He raised a brow. “What’s this?”

You pushed him backward, nails digging into his pale shoulders. Aegon grinned, hands coming around to rest on your hips, smearing more blood, something about it was primal and arousing— the tacky feeling, iron in the air.

Disgusting anger filled you, anger at your own body betraying you, anger at his snarky face, and anger at the whole fucking lot of dragon seed in this Keep. It made you unbearably aroused in a sick way, seeking to fuck the anger out, the anger made you want carnal pain. Aegon is a piece of shit but he could provide that.

Leaning forward, breasts pushed to him, you sneered, “Yes, lord husband, I’ll do my duty. Take your cock and seed as you see fit. No better than I, you’ve thought about it before.”

“Wringing the life out of that slim neck, watching that haughty look of yours fall off your face? Magnificent.”

You huffed a laugh at that, feeling his full prick swell against your bare cunt. Sealing your lips over his puffy ones, it was a battle of teeth and tongue. More blood spilled from your lip as he bit at it, lapping it up as you moaned, squirming atop him.

Aegon smacked your ass, sucking and nibbling your jaw as he murmured, “Gods you're an uppity bitch, yet I've wanted to fuck you for so long now.” He nipped at your neck again, moving down to pop a nipple in his mouth, moving you around.

You moaned in delight, arching and rolling your hips along his shaft, earning his noises, and stimulating your sensitive buds further. Yanking on his hair you breathed, “I didn't want to catch a disease from you, but you've grown comely, little brother.

The blonde pinched your other nipple roughly, popping off with a string of drool. Aegon grinned. “That’s the closest thing I've gotten of a compliment for you. No diseases I’m aware of, I pay fine money for my whores.” He smacked your ass again— sharp and loud as you cried out.

“You want to ride my cock dearest? Have your illusion of control?”

“Fuck you.”

He shrieked in laughter as you rose, slick cunt dripping. Your toned thighs, thick with muscle from dragon riding, lowered upon his prick. You bit back the guttural noise forced out of your throat, his prick tearing and bullying its way into your untouched cunt.

Aegon groaned, his hands digging into your hips as you panted, feeling blood join your slick. With a harsh pant, you leaned forward again, hands on his shoulders as you rode Aegon’s thick cock, the sight of blood and slick making his eyes shine.

He growled, “That’s a good princess, you’re mine now, such a little freak, getting all hot from blood and pain. A true Targaryen aren’t you, angry, vicious cunts.” He moaned when you slapped him, splitting his puffy lip. Crashing your lips against his, you lapped it up, slipping your tongue to mix with his.

He met you halfway, cock spearing you as you rolled down in quick jerks, nothing pretty. It was raw, grunts and rough slaps filling the room. Aegon’s big hand cracked down on your ass, your eyes rolling up as he dominated the kiss.

He panted against your lips.

“Gods— you’re fucking divine. Should’ve known you’d like it like this. Hard and fast, bloody, like some degenerates in those houses on the edge of the Street of Silk. I oughta take you some time. We can fuck someone together, hm?”

Your hips stuttered at the thought, mouth falling open to groan his name, gargling out a ‘fuck yes!’ Aegon grinned, groaning as you rode him harder, tits bouncing as you forced his thick length deeper. Your pussy was dragging and pulsing, wanting more and more, tightening.

The prince’s back arched as his cock pulsed, grunting your name as he shivered. He was close as you, groaning, “Good fucking wife, yes, gonna stuff you full of seed, take you out before you have to sit around and let me stuff you with more— our godsdamned babe. Want that?”

You nodded, hips moving at a breakneck pace, pleading, “Yes, yes, let’s take the town, show me, show me before I’m stuck to this wretched godsdamned keep. I’m your only cunt then, fit for you to fuck.”

He grew breathier at the idea, greedy hands massaging and plucking at your tits, lips biting and nipping your neck while groaning. You felt a jolt from him, Aegon crying out huskily as he emptied into you, forcing you onto your back as he fucked his seed into you with loud squelches.

You cried out, back arching at the sensation, the flood of hot gush drawing your climax out, milking Aegon further, begging him to fuck you more, the prince whining until a second one hit you, lurid squelching filling the room as he chanted your name, falling forward as you writhed and squeezed him, about to rip his pretty hair out.

Silence finally fell over the room save panting.

You knew there was a method of waiting, waiting until the seed could take. blood and cum were tacky on your body. He finally relented, pulling out with a sweet peck, hissing. You made a soft noise as your cunt leaked his spend, chest heaving.

Aegon laid on his back next to you. He smiled his little smile, lips puffed and lip-sided from busting the bottom. He splayed a hand over your belly, laughing, “And what a claim this will be, huh?”

Dread filled you once again. But with his babe in your belly, you could swing some leeway. With a hoarse chuckle, you replied, “Indeed a claim it is. I think it’s all over us.”

He laughed again, eyes sparkling, “Eh, I thought it would be worse.”

Could it?

[milunalupin]

REMUS GIRLIES UNITE!

first off congratulations on 100 followers ily

and can i request a remus blurb that's centered around like hopeless pining? maybe something like helpless stares and longing sighs?

Love your works

MWAH🌷

tulip my love so sorry for the wait and thank you so much for this request !! love you MUAH

— can't keep my eyes off you

remus lupin x reader ★ 1.5k words

Luck was almost never on Remus Lupin's side. He was a disgusting, ravenous werewolf for one. His scars were off putting, puffed skin stretching all over his face and body. He wasn't born into a wealthy family, and he wasn't promised a successful future.

But Remus did well in school, he'll give himself that at least. Maybe not top of the class, but enough to feel good about it. And he had the most incredible friends, always supporting him during his 'time of the month', and constantly trying to set him up with girls they thought were his type. They never were.

Finding love was never really his priority anyways, his mind focused on school and keeping his beastly secret. Aside from that, he never believed that someone would be able to fall in love with a poor, ugly half-blood with cycle issues. Unfortunately, the world decided the throw the most perfect girl his way at the start of third year.

"Gryffindor!"

Remus was caught in such a daze from your confidence walking up to the sorting hat and your almost familiar blinding grin once your house was announced that he didn't catch your name at first. He forced his eyes away and straightened his posture as you begun walking towards the red and gold embellished table.

"Who is that?"

"Seriously Moons? That's Y/N, I told you guys she was starting this year."

So why did you have to be his best friend's sister?

You were just like James in the sense that you were unbelievably kind, and the definition of loyal. He's surprised you weren't sorted in Hufflepuff with how hard-working and honest you were. But then again, it made sense for you to be in Gryffindor with your brother, you were one of the bravest people he knew, taking risks and always standing up for yourself and others.

Even though you were his best friend's sister, he really didn't get to see you much when you first started at Hogwarts. Unless you counted his shy glances during study sessions, or tipsy stares over Friday night butterbeers. The two of you didn't have any classes together, because that would mean the world was being good to Remus Lupin.

He doesn't really know when he first started to feel differently about you, but remembers feeling touched when you had begun purchasing his favorite tea. It wasn't just any tea; it was the exact same healing peppermint tea that he would drink around the full moon. How did you even notice that? You would even go as far as to bring it to his room in a warm mug, with a little too much sugar in it. But he would never bring it up to you as you could do no wrong in his eyes.

Fortunately while the other boys were trying to figure out if you knew his secret, he was grinning to himself behind closed maroon curtains. The boys cared about him, obviously. They had even been talking about becoming animagi to help him during his transformations. But to be seen by you, understood on another level that only you knew, caused a herd of hippogriffs to fly around in his stomach.

Finally, the winter holidays arrive and James had invited everyone to your house for Christmas. This was your favorite time of the year; James and your father were decorating the outside of the house while Sirius and yourself took care of the inside. The two of you always liked staying indoors to gossip while inhaling taste testing Euphemia's cooking to make sure it was up to standard.

"What are you hoping to unwrap this year Y/N, Remus perhaps?"

Your eyes widened and you turned to hit the cheeky Gryffindor in the chest, cheeks blazing with embarrassment. "Sirius! My mother is right there!"

He barked out another laugh when he saw your mother's shoulders shaking lightly with her own laughter. Your least favorite Marauder slung an arm around your shoulders and led you back out to the living to finish setting up for your friends.

The party had started the moment Remus and Peter arrived with arms full of presents. The gobstones were pulled out almost immediately, and everyone had a steaming mug of hot chocolate with whipped cream and toppings. Euphemia made sure to put in exactly ten marshmallows in James and yours because if you had one more than him he would undoubtedly throw a fit.

The spiked eggnog and mulled wine came out later in the night, the group sitting in a circle next to the tree to pass presents around. The typical Quidditch gear and gag gifts were opened. Peter had taken out his camera to take a picture of you and James when you had opened your matching red and gold sweaters, "Potter" written in a sparkly font. Your gleeful smiles and infectious laughter were immortalized with a flash of a camera, the photo being displayed on the mantle straight away.

The twinkling lights hung around room reflected in your eyes, a warmth creeping into Remus' chest as he averted his gaze. Luckily all eyes were on Peter as he unwrapped a pair of knitted socks from you, striped with Gryffindor colors and his initials sewed on the side. The tall boy smiled fondly as his friend tried on his gift, with you clapping adorably in response to them fitting perfectly.

With the sun having set hours ago, the Potter house was now littered with scraps of colorful paper, candy wrappers, and board games were strewn about. The Potters and Peter had gone up to their rooms for the night, leaving Remus and Sirius to clean up at living room. Before following your brother and Pete, you walked over to the werewolf and poked his arm to get his attention (as if his attention wasn't always on you anyways).

"Hey Rem, I just wanted to let you know that I left your present in your room, in case you didn't want to open it in front of everyone," you smiled shyly, nodding awkwardly before shuffling towards the stairs, "Merry Christmas."

He wants to blame the mulled wine for his flushed face and racing heart, but he knew that nothing could be as intoxicating as you.

"Y'know Moony, your obsession might be a little less creepy if you just asked Little Potter out."

The wizard chess pieces dropped from the brunette's hands, looking up at his friend who had a shit-eating grin on his face. Remus huffed and quickly put the game pieces back in place, shaking his head. "I'm not obsessed with her, Sirius."

"Oh it's Sirius now! Struck a nerve, have I?"

Sirius had been staying with the Potters for a few years now, and it had become hard not to notice your behavior around his sandy-haired friend. He was no stranger to the way you would fix your hair around Remus, or put on your favorite outfits when you knew he was coming over. Also, you and Sirius had late night gossip sessions after James fell asleep. That was probably it.

"Pads, stop. It's not like that, and she wouldn't even like me back anyways. I'm just like you or Peter, just one of her brother's friends."

"Oh Moony," Sirius sighed dramatically, " Moony, Moony, Moony. You poor, oblivious boy."

Sirius had gone up to his room soon after, leaving Remus in the living room by himself to reflect on his feelings towards you. But how humiliating it would be if he confessed to you and you said no. He could never face you ever again, probably have to stop being friends with James at the very least to avoid any further embarrassment. Alright, he's thinking about this way too much. Remus head upstairs to his room, ready to fall asleep to hopefully dream of a life where you would look at him the way he looked at you.

On top of his pillow sat a small gift box wrapped so beautifully it couldn't have been from anyone else but you. Rough hands pulled away the delicate ribbon you had tied around the box, opening the lid to find a handmade teacup, his name painted carefully on the side. Next to the teacup laid a few bars of his favorite chocolate, a new book, and a bag of his favorite tea. His chest tightened with a new but very obvious feeling.

A knock on the door pulled him out of his daydream, the dark wood opening to reveal your lovely self smiling up at him. His mouth went dry as you stared at him with those big chocolate eyes that made him feel that just for moment you could look past every flaw and see him a man you could be with.

"Y/N-" he cleared his throat when it cracked embarrassingly, a deep blush dusting his scarred cheeks, "Thank you for the gift Y/N, I love it, really." I love you.

You nodded and pointed up the the top of the doorway, Remus lifting his head to see a sparkling spring of mistletoe.

Perhaps Remus Lupin could be lucky.

[saerins]

⋆୨ chapter three ୧˚ for a while, you were all mine

⋆୨ if not for you (masterlist) ⋆୨ previous: chapter two - a million miles away, still you connect me in your way <> next: chapter four - behind a box of reasons why ୧˚

⋆୨ synopsis ୧˚ neither of you want this. both you and sae reluctantly agree to this marriage, although sae’s dissatisfaction far outweighs your own. with hidden agendas and old flames, will this ever work out between the two of you, or will your forced spark be doomed to fail?

ೀ series: sae x f!reader | wc 6.3k | ೀ content warnings: fluff/angst, modern au, arranged marriage, rich!sae and rich!reader, jealousy/paranoia, third parties, yn and sae finally sharing one bed | notes: eeep this was long i’m sorry !! more of the other girl here heh ^_< also mwah thank you to all of you who’s reading ily !! <3

In hindsight, maybe it wasn’t right of you to go through your husband’s stuff. Maybe you should’ve just looked at that little black box and left it there and continue to be ignorant.

But no. In this world, you’re nosy and greedy and you wanted to know who exactly it is that Itoshi Sae of all people can’t get over and now you have exactly what you were looking for.

After extensive research—and by research you mean scrolling through your husband’s social media (all of them), you managed to find her tagged in a post buried way below on his Facebook wall. Silver lining is: there’s nothing recent. The bad part? Judging by the date, they’ve known each other for a long time.

Apparently her name is Mirin, and her family’s made up of a whole slew of top lawyers in the whole of Japan. There’s not a lot on her Facebook, but her Instagram is a whole other story. Her posts the last few years put her somewhere in Europe, and judging by the content, she’s been studying there for a while. But before that, back when the posts were all in Japan, you catch a few photos of Sae. Some of them have Oliver and Eita, and a couple of other guys you haven’t met before.

It’s really wrong of you to do this, only because you know you’re just setting yourself up for a world of paranoia, but you can’t stop. You move over to the pictures she’s tagged in, and there’s one from Oliver that catches your attention.

Because it’s dated a few weeks back.

The first of two photos show Oliver, Eita, Sae and the same guy you saw back in Mirin’s feed—the one with jet black spiky hair. They’re in a bar, you presume, sitting around a private booth with a ton of alcohol in the ice bucket on the table. You recognise his attire; it’s from the very first night Sae bothered to sit down at the dining table and eat with you. 

The second makes your heart crash to the floor. In the photo, in Sae’s place is Mirin herself, looking drop-dead gorgeous in a skin-tight red dress that you wouldn’t ever think of wearing. (One, because it’s much too revealing for your own taste, and two, well, just because you’re more of an oversized t-shirt kind of girl.)

All you can take away from what you saw is that Mirin is now back in Japan. Coupled with the fact that Sae had been gone even though he was off from work for those first few days of your marriage, you deduce what you wish isn’t true—was he meeting up with her all this time? Even 

Trying to avoid falling into utter madness, you grab your phone and text your ever-trusty best friend.

Reo, meet you at our usual. ASAP!!!

Just as you’re about to leave the house, Sae gets back from wherever he’s been (which now you can’t help but wonder whether he was meeting Mirin), and you run right into his chest.

“Careful, busy?” Sae asks, which is more than Sae usually does and you realise just how low the bar is set right now.

Still, you answer him like you always do. “Yeah I’m gonna meet Reo for a bit,” you tell him, biting back a snarky comment about Mirin.

Even with those doubts of Sae in your head, you can’t help but stop to appreciate how he hands you your keys from the key hanger before you forget, or how his other hand is gripping onto yours, warm and just slightly calloused. It’s the first time you’ve felt them since that day at your own wedding.

“Take your time, I’ll handle our dinner tonight,” he tells you, and you think that’s already a lot considering that he’s never really bothered with anything the past few weeks, but then you feel a soft sensation against your forehead—very brief, so unfamiliar, way too soft—and then it’s gone in just a second and it’s way too quick that it has you doubting its existence at all.

All you hear is a soft “see you” before the door shuts behind you, and then there’s only the erratic beating of your heart that fills your ears.

“Yikes.”

“Very helpful, thanks,” you sigh exasperatedly as you plop down onto the cushioned seat across from Reo.

Reo laughs, handing you your phone back, open to Oliver’s Instagram account. “Then ask for a divorce, I’m sure he’d happily oblige if all of that’s true.”

“You know why I can’t, Reo,” you remind him, close to giving up.

Reo nods, remembering about your parents and deciding not to make matters worse. “Did you ask him about it though?”

You frown, glaring up at your best friend who’s now happily sipping on his cold brew. “And let him guess that I was stalking his ex? Sure I did.”

Reo snorts at your sarcasm. He thinks it’s funny how you’re oddly meek in front of Sae, and yet you’re snappish around him. Comes with the many years of being best friends, he supposes. But on that note, “you think there’s something going on between them?”

For the first time, Reo sees you helpless, eyes staring into nothing, index finger idly tracing circles on the polished wooden surface. “I don’t know,” because all you know is that you’re already exhausted from overthinking all the things they could be doing behind your back. “But… he’s always away and he says it’s work when I know it’s not. And she’s back and they were at the same place and urgh, I don’t know what to do.”

By that last line, you’re already burying your head in your hands, slumped against the table, Reo watching on as you grumble in frustration. He chuckles, gently patting your head before you look up at him, “what if they’re just friends right now?”

“It’s still weird, isn’t it? I mean… from the looks of it, they were pretty serious at one point.” Your words are all muffled because you’re pretty sure this is you being jealous now—thanks to Sae considerably warming up to you (be it at his own sluggish pace), it’s hard not to feel anything for him. In a way, you’re learning to like a lot about him, but there’s this unshakeable doubt you can’t brush off in the form of his ex.

Reo leans back against his chair now, pondering out loud. “Hmm I wonder what that reminds me of.”

In a second, you know all too well what he’s referring to, and you find yourself unable to look him in the eye. “That’s… different. We didn’t act on it.”

He rests his elbow on the table, head resting against his fist, “yeah but… we were still each other’s first kiss, right?”

“But we didn’t amount to anything.”

“Except that we’re best friends now,” Reo tells you, and you know he’s trying to get a point across but you’re not sure you want to understand it.

“And that’s all we ever were, Reo.”

Smiling, Reo leans forward a little, cautious at keeping his voice down. It won’t do if people misunderstand and word gets around. “Listen, I don’t know about you, but you were all I wanted at one point. For more than just that one day under the cherry blossoms, more than that one time I stole your first kiss.”

It stuns you a little to hear it, because any romantic emotions between the two of you were never said or shared. Both you and Reo knew back then that your parents wouldn’t ever be in favour of him and his rebelliousness that you both just decided it wasn’t worth the hassle. At that time, when you were both foolish kids, having that something intangible was enough. Maybe it faded for you faster than it had for Reo, but he knew that it once existed. Even if only for a second.

“And?”

You’ve gone soft now, and Reo knows you understand. You’re just in denial.

“Are you sure Sae would feel the same if he knew about it? If he knew I used to love you too?” Reo asks you, genuinely wondering for himself.

You’re about to argue that Sae doesn’t even care, but putting yourself into his shoes, you get where Reo’s coming from. History is history. No matter how long ago it was or how short the relationship (or lack of one) was, the feelings still existed, once upon a time.

Still, you have a feeling that there’s more than meets the eye. Especially if Sae has to hide it all the time. He’s never even said her name to you, if they met at all.

“Anyway look, do you want me to try asking Oliver about it? I’ll be discreet, though I can’t really say the same for that knucklehead,” Reo warns you. It’s not like he knows Oliver much outside of any business dealings, but he can tell that much at least.

You shake your head anyway, knowing it’s a bad idea. For all you know, Sae would just lash out at you for prying into his business when you’re just his on-paper wife.

“Wonder why they broke up though,” you think out loud, watching the liquid in your cup swish around, close to spilling off the edge as you swirl it with your hand, almost completely lost in thought.

Reo answers you without missing a beat. “She went abroad to study and just called it off thinking it wouldn’t work.” His eyes go wide the moment your head shoots up, and he winces after letting it slip.

“You knew?”

“Yeah…”

“What the- how?” Because it’s incredulous how Reo happens to know that much more about the relationship.

He sighs, fessing up. “I was asking around about Sae remember? When I told you he’s just a tough nut to—”

“Yeah yeah,” you wave it off, wanting him to get to the point.

“Well, Oliver’s kinda a blabbermouth so…” Reo sighs, as if he senses there’s no point in keeping it in, not when you’re already halfway into that rabbit hole yourself.

And you’re all ears. Half because you really just want to learn more about it and the other half just wanting confirmation that you’re not crazy for overthinking about this. But then Reo tells you and you’re not sure anymore.

“He said Sae was never over her, loved her to bits.” Reo pauses, hesitating before he opens his mouth again. “He said Sae was waiting for her to get back before starting things up again.”

Oh.

SEVEN YEARS AGO.

“You’re kidding me, right?”

Surely it wasn’t a stretch to be furious that distance would be enough of a reason for a breakup? Surely Sae didn’t have to think himself crazy for refuting such an idea?

Mirin’s hair flowed in the wind, pretty as it always was, and it would be even prettier in his memories. She looked unsure, and he knew it too. He knew her like the back of his hand, down to the injury on his ankle. She was only doing what she thought was right, and that was offering each of their own freedom, though Sae had no single doubt in his mind that that wasn’t what he wanted.

“Sae, please don’t make this harder than it already is,” she told him, her eyes swimming with tears that she wouldn’t allow to overflow.

Always so stubborn, and forever thinking less of herself. That was how he knew her to be. And as much as he hated that stubbornness at that moment, he loved her just as much.

With a hand reaching out to her, he pulled her to him, letting her rest her head in his chest, something that he savoured because it wouldn’t be long until she’ll be gone for who knows how long.

“Is it selfish of me to say I don’t want to break up with you?” Sae was asking her, genuinely. He didn’t know how to handle this—when life held different paths for two people in love, wasn’t it just common sense that they could still tread it and yet be together? Was long distance really the end of everything they had?

Mirin sniffled just a little before she pulled away and forced herself to smile, something that Sae hated. It was always the fake ones that irked him, even now.

“Is it selfish for me to think that we’re supposed to?”

Maybe he didn’t know the answer. But all he knew was that if she still felt like they should, then he’d concede. He was always weak when it came to her. It was always the same. He couldn’t imagine being weak to anyone else. It was her. Only her.

“Fine, we’ll do that, if that’s what you want,” he told her, a tone so gentle that no one but her has ever heard. But he drew close, tipping her chin up so she would look at him, his teal eyes appreciating every inch of her beautiful face, the most beautiful one he had ever seen, and the most beautiful one he thought he would ever see. “But you know something?”

Mirin swallowed the lump in her throat, the amount of love she felt threatening to swallow her whole. “What?”

Sae let out a deep chuckle, a soft one before he pressed his lips against hers, a promise laid between their lips like it was a secret only they both would keep.

“Nothing would stop me from waiting for you to come back. So come back to me, okay? Come back, I’ll wait for you.”

That night when you get home, you feel just slightly numb. After hearing what you did, it’s no surprise. You’ve always been kind of weak when it comes to feelings. You’re more heart over mind and you’d choose your heart over and over again even if you had no more blood left to bleed.

You think you’re never getting over it until you walk in and realise that Sae’s in the kitchen, setting your dinner down on the table. It’s like your tears automatically dissipate once you look into his eyes.

“Oh, just nice,” is all he mumbles before he sits down at his place on the entirely too-big dining table for the two of you.

Across from him, you sit down as you look at the spread before you. A steak on each of your plates, potato puree at the side. In the middle there’s assorted sides of mushrooms, corn kernels and what you assume to be a tray of sauces for the meat.

“Did you cook all of these?” You ask, almost breathless. You’re about to say he’s a much better cook than you are, until Sae speaks up.

“No.” He seems nearly unwilling to answer you, a delicate frown on his face. “Accidentally burnt the pans when I tried to cook.”

“Huh?” You spin your head around to find the sink filled with all your pans, and from the looks of it, Sae had been trying to scrub the burnt portions off unsuccessfully.

“We need to buy new pans.”

Sae says this all too monotonously, like he’s half-robot and half completely embarrassed, that you can’t help but laugh out loud. Besides, it’s kind of cute that there’s a faint pink on his cheeks. You’ve never seen that before.

He looks at you incredulously, like he wasn’t expecting you to laugh at him like he’s a damn clown. Flinging a mushroom at you with his fork, he rolls his eyes. “Shut up,” he groans.

Pouting at him mockingly, you decide to tease him a little more. “You didn’t touch anything else in the house and ruin them, did you?”

And you were joking, until you realise Sae’s averting his gaze, stuffing his mouth full with corn kernels.

“Sae!”

“We might need to get new stuff for the laundry room too,” he confesses, talking with his mouth full. (Spoiler: you find out later that he put the wrong detergents in the washer and accidentally flooded the laundry room.)

Still, you think it’s sort of endearing that he tried to do the chores while you were the one out for a change, so you stop yourself from making fun of him too much. It’s not like whatever you learned earlier isn’t still sitting in the back of your head (because a part of you wonders if he’s doing all this out of guilt), but some part of you wants to be selfish and let yourself feel special, even if it’s delusional, at least for a little bit.

You want to feel like the wife he misses when you’re not around, like the person he would think of when his mind strays. Is this all too much to ask?

Maybe you just can’t help yourself, so you bring yourself to ask: “Sae, why did you agree to this?”

There’s a pregnant pause in the room, the only sounds filling the silence being the stainless steel cutlery hitting the plates as Sae adjusts himself. “Why did you?”

You suppose that maybe it’ll be easier for him to share if you start first, so you bite the bait. “Long story but… if I don’t then it’ll fall to my sister and she’s happy with someone else.” You swallow the meat in your mouth, the fat rendered so well it makes you crave for more. “I don’t want her to have to sacrifice that. Our parents aren’t exactly the nicest people in the world.”

Sae listens to you, an understanding settling in his chest. He could laugh from the coincidence of it all. “Same, but for my brother,” he tells you, prodding at his steak. “And he’s happy with soccer, not some girl. Can’t get a girl to save his life.”

Somehow, you can hear the quiet fondness that he has for Rin that makes you believe he’s a good brother.

“Would a marriage affect his career all that much?”

There’s a certain complexity behind Sae’s expression when you ask that question, something that you can’t decipher. But he scoffs, “let’s just say, my parents aren’t the nicest people either. I would know.”

And something tells you that it’s not something you want to ask yet, so you let his answer sit with you.

“Oh, speaking of parents,” Sae brings up his phone, switching the subject and handing it over to you. It’s a string of texts between him and his mother, apparently. You hold it up to your face, reading through and it appears they’d gotten you both tickets. “Mine got us both tickets, so.”

As you scroll, a grin appears on your face as you look at him. “Honeymoon tickets to Korea?” You’re almost squealing. It’s been a long while since you’ve last had a vacation, and ten days of distraction sounds really nice after all the information you’d just learned today.

Sae rolls his eyes, though you don’t miss the slight tug upwards at the corner of his lips. “Yeah, so get packing, we leave in two days.”

And as excited as you are, you feel a vibration and the brief flash of ‘dummy’ messaging him, the only part of the preview that you can see being: no, take me with you :(

You’re pretty sure it vibrates some more but by then, you’re already handing the phone back and Sae just locks his phone without bothering. Shaking your head, you try to stuff that image back to the deepest crevices of your mind, determined to not let it ruin your mood for your getaway.

Ex lover or not, Sae is still your husband and it’s not like he hates this (by the looks of things, it’s only been getting better and better), so you’re still hell bent on making things work.

Two days fly by way too quickly.

The day after Sae tells you about the trip, you immediately get to work at packing. Ten days is not a short trip and you plan to make full use of it, and for that, you have to be ready.

You had spent the whole day buying anything you would need—travel-friendly items and whatnot—while commuting back home to your parents’ house (at a timing you know they’re at work, of course!) to take anything you might’ve left there that you needed. Just as you left the house, nostalgia took over as you looked around at the place where you grew up.

It’s strange. People say to cherish what time you have with your parents, that one day you’re going to move out and you’re going to miss it.

You don’t feel like that’s necessarily true, because you’re living proof. The only thing you’d miss is your sister and you still talk to her everyday. Meanwhile, the only times your mother or father ever talks to you is to ask you about your marriage and warning you not to annoy Sae too much, as though it was a given and that it shouldn’t be the other way around.

Maybe it doesn’t make much sense; you and Sae (or maybe just you) trying to be a family when you both have no idea what a proper family is like. Even if it is just on paper.

Now you’re on a town car to the airport and you’re fiddling with your passport in your hands, staring out the window like a little child that’s going overseas for the first time. (Next to you, Sae’s thinking the exact same thing—you do look so much like an excited child. Or maybe a puppy.)

Of course, Sae’s parents waste no expenses in gifting you two first-class seats. Not that you’ve never been in first class, but it’s nice to be next to Sae, and you catch yourself, realising just how quickly you’re catching feelings.

“What?” Sae’s just getting ready to turn his phone to flight-safe mode when he catches you staring, a hint of smugness forming inside of him.

Even with a small partition separating your seats, you can see his teal eyes staring at you, long lashes fluttering in all its glory. Instead of offering an answer, you just shake your head and lean back, busying yourself by adjusting the screen in front of you. 

Being in a state of denial is easy; it’s actually fun to sit in first class next to Sae, on a three-hour flight to your honeymoon, annoying him each chance you get, earning yourself a death stare every instant before laughing yourself silly when he flips off at you. It’s been a few weeks, but you think you’ve grown accustomed to what Sae is like that you know his middle fingers to you are never meant to be taken seriously and his silence is just how he is when he isn’t fully opened up. It nearly makes you think you’re crazy for doubting him and yet you don’t have the balls to question him about any of that. Not yet, because you’re not ready for this to end (if it will).

The itinerary had already been planned out by Sae’s mother, but it wasn’t like either of you wanted to follow it. One, Sae likes to do things spontaneously anyway and two, well, you have a feeling that he might want to treat this like a solo trip. It’s not like either of you have properly been husband and wife much to have a proper honeymoon together.

So count you surprised when you suggested that you both try to do solo trips around the city and just meet up for dinner, only to have Sae agree and yet follow you wherever you decide to go that first day.

At first, you were just wondering whether he had the same plans, but after he followed you into a Sephora looking absolutely clueless and then getting all flustered and sticking to you the moment the staff there asked him if he wanted to do a skin test, you allow yourself to think that he’s actually tagging along with you.

“What are you doing?” You decide to ask after exiting another store, carrying no less than five bags thanks to your anxiety of asking Sae what he’s up to.

On his part, he merely shrugs and looks away, hands in his coat pocket, looking absolutely like a model out of a magazine. Sometimes you wonder if he’s really yours. On paper, at least.

“This is our honeymoon, right? Makes sense that we’re together.” That’s all the explanation Sae offers, his gaze hovering over the bags you’re carrying, before he leans closer. “Besides, you’re my wife,” he says, gently grabbing your bags and carrying it for you.

He doesn’t say that it’s just on paper this time. And you can’t help but read into it. It’s perplexing how easily his words can affect you. It has your heart doing somersaults and your lips nervously pursing together.

“So, where next?” He prompts, looking at you expectantly.

And maybe you’re a little too excited for this pleasant turn of events that you’re grinning from ear to ear as you stare at him. “Wait, really?” 

You can’t even hide the glee in your voice and Sae, for the first time, smiles—even if he’s doing it as he rolls his eyes at you.

“Yes, stupid,” he tells you, chuckling as you hop slightly in excited. “Are we going or are you just gonna stand here like a little puppy?”

With excited nods and a little squeal, you clap your hands together before daring to put your fingers around his wrist, dragging him with you.

Sae follows quietly behind you, staring at you as you happily tread ahead, your hands warm and guarding his against the slightly chilly air, hair flowing in the wind and he suddenly thinks you’re even prettier than he first thought you were. And then he starts thinking that maybe this part of his life that’s planned by his parents isn’t so bad after all.

Though, when you get back to the hotel, you find out that Sae has already specially asked for two separate beds, to the surprise of all the hotel staff, because of course, Mrs Itoshi had booked the honeymoon suite for the both of you. Special requests for that room usually mean flowers on the bed, or breakfast just the way they like it—not for the groom of all people to be asking for a separate bed altogether, especially when he insists there is no additional person.

“I’ll sleep out here,” Sae tells you the moment you get back to the hotel that night, gesturing to the bed set up by the television, much to your bummer. But you suppose you can’t expect too much—hand holding was already a miracle in itself.

“Oh yeah, sure,” you shrug it off, like it doesn’t even matter. Deep down you feel like a rock was dropped from your throat to the bottom of your stomach, forming a gaping hole in your heart along the way that you tried to will into non-existence.

Still, somehow, despite this little obstacle, you find yourself optimistic after being witness to Sae’s change in demeanour.

“Hey, Y/N?”

When you turn around, you see a hint of hesitation flicker across his teal eyes before he shakes his head, brushing it off.

“It’s nothing, goodnight.”

Although you’re curious, you decide not to press him about it. Offering a small smile, you nod.

“Goodnight, Sae.”

Over the course of your entire honeymoon, you find that you shouldn’t be chiding yourself for being delusional in the first place.

For once in this one-sided love affair, you feel like perhaps it’s not so one-sided at all. Because from what you’ve learned about Sae in your close-to-minimal time together, he isn’t someone that you can force into doing anything he doesn’t want to. At least when it comes to mundane activities which includes trips. (Unless you’re his parents who you have no doubt in your mind probably mirrors your own and have their ways of controlling him, per se.)

But it’s hard to think he doesn’t want to do any of this with you when he’s so compliant. He follows your bucket list of things to do and doesn’t complain once. He lets you drag him to the palace and looks only slightly concerned when you tell him you want to “do the thing where we can dress up like royalty and take pictures” but he only sighs and concedes within seconds.

When he comes out of the room looking like the most handsome prince you’d ever met, you’re too shy to meet his gaze but he tilts your head up to look at him for most of the shots anyway. With his face so close to yours, with these kinds of small gestures which he willingly initiates, you begin to wonder if it’s possible to make him happy in this possibly loveless marriage.

Spending ten days together, surrounded by just each other and doing things that couples do; it nearly makes you feel as if this is real. Like Sae really loves you and that he had asked you to marry him one day out of the blue because of it. Nothing like how you felt that first time you met him, in your dressing room minutes before you were about to become husband and wife, being talked down to and told that this was a facade and could be nothing more.

Now he’s here with you, sticking close and following you around, entertaining your requests for activities, falling asleep on your shoulder when you were on the plane to Jeju, and sometimes he absentmindedly holds your hand like he’s used to it. He helps you with your luggage always, and he makes sure you get food whenever your stomach starts growling, and he’s more observant than you give him credit for because he starts picking the radish off your plate without you asking.

Your album’s suddenly filled with pictures of you and Sae and you were hesitant at first but dragging him to the amusement park when he wasn’t for it at first was a good decision; for a while, you get to see what he’s like when all the downturned lines on his face reverse, when he looks the most like an actual guy in his mid-twenties, enjoying life instead of brooding all the time. Thanks to that, your pictures are more both of you smiling or being goofy together instead of faceless pictures because neither of you feel like showing your faces at all.

By the time your honeymoon is about to come to an end, you find that maybe there’s hope for this after all. That maybe you’d just been overthinking everything prior to this and it shouldn’t be worth worrying over after the trip ends.

But you find that hope can be flimsy sometimes. 

On the seventh night there, you and Sae are both on your bed, in the actual bedroom, fighting (not literally) over a multiplayer game. Just two adults hunched over one phone playing frustrating games meant for kids. (Somehow it makes you feel like perhaps neither of you ever had a normal childhood and this is something to make up for it.) It’s all fun and games until you see a throng of message notifications from dummy mixed in with several from what you presume to be Sae’s group chat with the guys.

And you can keep pretending like it doesn’t matter, except Sae immediately stops after the current round and tells you he has to take a call. And you already know more or less who he’s going to talk to. And just like that, you feel like you’re back to square one all over again.

The subsequent nights (and days) aren’t easy for you either. After just giving up on thinking and forcing yourself to sleep that night, you’d been stuck with paranoia everyday. Especially when you realise that he’s starting to take calls every night outside on the balcony where he’s sure you’re out of earshot. 

You wonder if he’s being lovey dovey with her outside when he talks to her. You wonder if he imagines you as her when you’re out together. You wonder if he wishes you were her. You wonder if all this is just a gimmick; a test run for when he does the actual things with the actual girl he wants to do them with.

Safe to say, by your last night there, you’re a mess. The moment you get back from trying to be happy all day (which was a disaster because you wouldn’t stop trying to minimise contact with Sae), you tell him you’re too tired and that you’ll just go ahead and go to bed.

Which, of course, is code for ‘you just want to lie in bed and cry all night’.

Sae couldn’t even get a word out before you shut the door on him, plopping down onto the bed and crying into your pillow. Maybe holding everything in was a bad idea. Now you’re bursting with emotions and you try to call Reo a few minutes later but you can’t even get him because he’s busy somehow and you’re positive that the gods hate you right now.

There is one thing about being on rock bottom that you like, though; at least you know how you feel. You’re exhausted and upset and envious because you wish you could be that person for your husband. But you keep getting reminded that you’re not. That somehow you’re just a mere stand-in until he marries his real wife next time. The one he promised to love forever. (Technically, he vowed that to you on your wedding day too, but that’s not the same and you know it.)

Deciding to shut off your phone and have this time to yourself to cry your eyes out, you miss the sudden swarm of notifications that come in. And thanks to you stuffing your head into the pillow, you don’t notice Sae opening the door and peeking inside, an unfamiliar feeling settling inside him at the sound of you sobbing.

He gently closes the door behind him as he walks to you, your back turned to him, your hands and feet hanging onto the bolster like a koala to a branch. Slowly, he saunters over to you, almost like he’s afraid to. When his hand rests on your shoulder and he sinks into the mattress beside you, you stiffen up for just a moment before spinning around and sobbing into his chest instead.

You didn’t expect him to even enter your room at all, much less let you stain his shirt or hold you close when you’re being emotional like this, but he stays there, hand gently rubbing your arm, up and down, a gentle kiss placed on the top of your head. It makes you wonder what kind of games he’s playing. Is this Sae not being able to make up his mind and that’s why he’s still so nice to you even when he has his old flame in the back of his head?

“Do you… want me to leave you alone?” He asks, though you can argue it’s kind of a stupid question but then you realise he probably doesn’t know much about actual relationships so you let it slide.

You shake your head in response, deciding that as stupid as it all sounds, you want to throw your hat in the ring. You’ve fallen for him, and you want him for yourself.

And maybe it’s wrong of you to project this on him, but your absence of a normal family where a home is not just a house and where parents shower their children with actual love and concern makes you yearn for one yourself. And maybe it’s not a great idea to want that from a man you married from being forced to, but thanks to this honeymoon you can see that there’s a flicker of spark there.

That Sae’s not emotionless and he’s definitely not cold to you. Not anymore. That if you guys had been given more time instead of being rushed into things by your parents then maybe the whole wedding could’ve gone without any of the hitches you experienced. That every single radish he picked off your plate, every picture he took with you, every time he held your hand, every time he pulled you close—none of that was manufactured, was it?

So isn’t it possible for you to be happy with him? So is it still foolish or selfish of you to want to be with him?

Is it too much if you ask him about it?

“Hey, Sae?” Your voice is soft and timid and more vulnerable than you’ve ever shown, but he hears you loud and clear, his “hm?” resounding against his chest, right next to your ear. “Can you stay?”

A few seconds of pause, and he replies, “of course.”

You shake your head slightly. “I don’t mean that. I mean, you know, what we said on our wedding day.” Your voice is entirely muffled, still Sae understands.

There’s an even longer pause this time, and you think that Sae’s just thinking of a way to get out of this until you hear him speak up again.

“Idiot,” he chides, but you can hear the soft affection in his voice. Suddenly, you feel his pinky wrapping around your own, and he holds it near your face. “I promise you,” he whispers, and you wish you could see the expression on his face, “I’ll stay.”

It might be wishful thinking but you think he really means it.

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[in-search-of-a-fallen-star]

the fall of icarus

Pairing: Suguru Geto/Reader, hinted Satoru Gojo/Reader

WC: 3269 (do not perceive me)

Content warnings: canon typical violence, for both Star Wars and Jujutsu Kaisen. Also, I borrow some plot beats from the Hidden Inventory/Premature Death arcs, so there are some potential spoilers if you haven't seen those yet.

I saw the lovely @strawberrystepmom 's It Takes A Galaxy collab and immediately knew I had to write something for our greatly beloved tragic bastard.

This was so much fun to write, as a mash up of two of my favorite universes. I did kind of play fast and loose with the lore of both series, but it was all in the name of ~drama~ so I feel like it was for a good cause. Two things I do want to mention, just for clarity's sake, is that Reader uses a modified version of Force Empathy, and that when a force user falls to the dark side, their eyes turn yellow. IDK if that's technically canon in Star Wars anymore, but I thought it was a cool detail from the older stuff and decided to use here.

Minors and ageless blogs, DNI. If you don't have an age in your bio or pinned I will block you.

There is a specter that dogs your steps in the halls of the Temple. A name, only muttered in hushed whispers in the shadowed corners. Most will refer to him as the fallen one, as if saying his name will bring misfortune. 

You know him as Suguru Geto. 

He was your friend, once. 

You remember his smile, and the way it made his dark eyes crinkle and his whole face soften. The way his big hands felt warm even through your layers of robes as he would correct your form during saber drills. The low, smoky timbre of his voice that made even the driest of texts hypnotizing to listen to. 

Most importantly, you remember the day he left. Suguru Geto and Satoru Gojo, freshly Knighted and already being hailed as some of the Order’s best and brightest, sent on a mission so important that they couldn’t tell you anything other than they were leaving. Gojo ruffled your hair and promised that he would bring you back something sweet. Geto pulled you into a hug and promised that they wouldn’t be gone long. You remember the sound of their laughter in the hangar, and the smiles on their faces as they waved goodbye from the cockpits of their starfighters. 

Geto was right, they weren’t gone long. Just a few short days, long enough to miss them but not long enough to worry. When you got the ping that their ships had docked, you ducked out of meditation and hurried to the hangar to greet them.

When they emerged from their ships, you didn’t need the Force to tell you that something went wrong. You reached for it anyway, drawing it around you like a comforting blanket as you took in their expressions. Gojo had his eyes covered, a rare sight on Temple grounds, and walked without his usual boisterous charm. He half-heartedly ruffled your hair, resting his hand on your head for a moment before moving past you. 

Geto avoided your touch entirely. His face was dark and drawn, black eyes inscrutable. He met your eyes for a second, before hurrying past you into the Temple. You reached out to him with the Force, and felt a wave of anger and pain so potent it hit you like a punch to the gut. The contact lasted for just a second, severed on his end as he turned to look at you. The expression on his face reminded you of a wounded animal backed into a corner, savage with pain. It was the first time he’d looked at you and made you believe that he could hurt you. 

Things changed, after that. Gojo seemed to recover the fastest, bouncing around the Temple with his usual antics. He started seeking you out more, and finding increasingly transparent excuses to touch you, like draping an arm around your shoulders as you walked in the halls or dropping his head in your lap when he would find you studying in the archives. Each time, you would reach out with the Force, tapping into your abilities to connect to Gojo’s emotions. His control was ironclad, so you rarely were able to forge a connection, but there were sometimes where you caught a trace of a deep sorrow. On those days, Gojo seemed more withdrawn, and would burrow into your touch like a small child seeking comfort. You let him, using your abilities to push feelings of calm through the bond you shared. 

Geto began avoiding you. Like Gojo, he made an effort to return to normal, but it fell through quickly. He no longer joined in on Gojo’s teasing commentary, and avoided your touch. You reached out to him with increasing desperation, trying to rekindle the embers of your connection, and were met with silence at every turn. 

There were moments where you would wake up at night, sensing Geto’s presence outside your door. He would linger just outside your room, as if he couldn’t bring himself to knock. Each time, you would get up and go to the door. At first, you would open it to invite him in, but he would disappear before the door could slide open. After, you would stand behind the door, feeling his presence and letting him feel yours. You would rest a hand on the cold plasteel, and for those moments in the dead of night, it was almost like you could feel the warmth of his hand on the other side.

You also began to feel eyes on you. It’s not uncommon to be watched in the Temple, but it usually happens during lessons, sparring, or meditations, with instructors keeping an eye on students who might need assistance or masters looking at prospective padawans. Those eyes are usually calm and detached, the gaze feeling almost clinical as it passes over you. This gaze is heavy, like a physical touch. It feels almost… covetous. You feel it most when you’re alone, usually poring over a holocron in the archives or practicing your lightsaber forms late into the night. In those moments, you can feel those eyes following a bead of sweat that slips down your neck into the loosened collar of your robes like a lover’s touch, soft and possessive. 

In your heart, you know who those eyes belong to. The Jedi teach their students to let go, and that attachment leads down a dark and dangerous path. But you can’t deny that you’ve looked at him the same way- stolen glances admiring the curve of his jaw, or the way his muscles flex under his tunic as he moves effortlessly through his saber forms. You’ve felt it, a need that simmers low in your gut, a dark whisper to sink your teeth in and never let go. It’s something that you’ve spent many hours of meditation trying to will away, very carefully thinking about anything else. It’s an honor to be chosen, to be brought to the Temple and trained. You won’t let this temptation lead you astray, and you won’t let this feeling call one of your dearest friends away from the Light. 

Geto begins to spend more and more time in the archives. You see him moving like a specter, the light of the holocrons casting strange shadows over his bone white face. His eyes are dark and the bags under his eyes are darker, and you notice that his robes hang more loosely on his body. The next time that you see Shoko, you bring it up, and she shrugs helplessly. 

“You can’t help someone who doesn’t want help,” she sighs. “All we can do is be there for him. Don’t worry too much, little light,” Shoko ruffles your hair affectionately. “He’s a big strong boy. Focus on your studies for now. Look for some fancy theological problem you can argue over with him once he pulls himself together.” 

You swat Shoko’s hands away from your hair and smile. A voice calls her name, and she hastily puts out the very against Temple rules cigarette and throws it into a nearby wastebin. “Duty calls. Take it easy,” she gives you a little salute as she makes her way in the direction of the voice. 

The smile on your face is weak, and fades when Shoko turns her back. She’s older and more experienced, and has known Geto longer. Still, you can’t shake the feeling of wrongness that has been dogging your steps, and is getting steadily more insistent as Geto continues to withdraw into himself. 

Gojo is the next person on your list, but he’s been increasingly more difficult to pin down. Since being Knighted, he has fully come into his powers, and is a darling of all the masters. You hear whispers in the halls, calling him the strongest knight the Order has seen in over six hundred years. He is regularly dispatched on high profile missions and sent as an envoy of the Order to the Senate- you hear his name everywhere but rarely catch a glimpse of the man himself.

You never see him without his blindfold, anymore.

Geto is the moon to Gojo’s sun. He is still respected as one of the strongest of this generation of knights. He takes the missions he’s assigned without complaint. He never tells anyone where he’s going or when he’s going to be back, and you have to make a nuisance of yourself to have any idea where in the galaxy he is. When he is at the Temple, Geto makes an effort to act like things are normal. He laughs and jokes with Shoko, and assists with the training of the younger knights when he can. His smiles don’t reach his eyes, and he still won’t touch you. You’ve reached out to him with the Force, and it’s like there’s an obsidian wall between you, glittering black and diamond hard. 

Looking back, you think the catalyst was the Jinata mission. You don’t remember the details, but you vividly remember the pyre.Yu Haibara was your age, a new knight sent on one of his first missions without the supervision of a master. He was outgoing and friendly, liked by everyone around him. Even though the body was covered during the funeral, you could picture his warm brown eyes and bright smile. Kento Nanami, another young knight your age, had gone on the mission with him. His face was badly beaten, the firelight of the pyre flickering across the yellowing edges of bruises that spattered across his elegant features. He was stoic, face set and hands folded in the deep sleeves of his robe. You wished you could offer him a hand, any reassuring touch to soften the grief you could feel roiling off him like a storm cloud. 

A few days later, Geto disappeared. 

At first, you assumed that he had just followed his normal procedure- taken a mission and left without telling anyone. So you waited, despite the anxiety clawing at your stomach. A week later, you woke up, gasping from a dream filled with so much blood and fire you could taste the iron and smoke on your tongue. You hadn’t been able to make out any faces in the carnage you had witnessed, but your instincts told you that something had happened to Geto, wherever he had gone. You threw yourself into meditations, playing the dream over and over, trying to glean any clarity or information from the chaos. You knew the masters would dismiss this as an anxiety fueled nightmare without proof, so you searched for some kernel of truth that would prove this was a Force premonition. 

You were still searching when the news broke. Suguru Geto, Knight of the Jedi Order, a murderer. He hadn’t returned within the time allotted for his mission, so the masters had dispatched a team to investigate. The knights had arrived to find the village Geto had been sent to help burned to ash, and every one of the villagers dead. The damning evidence was the distinctive wounds of a lightsaber blade on the corpses, burned almost beyond recognition. 

Flight records showed that Geto’s ship had returned to Coruscant, and the Temple began a manhunt for the rogue knight. Gojo and Shoko joined the search, both of them dropping everything. The masters squawked in indignance at having their most recognizable knight and one of their only healers leave their posts to trawl Coruscant’s underbelly, and in the resulting chaos you were able to slip out and search. 

Your abilities made you uniquely qualified for this. Closing your eyes, you reached out to the Force and let it wash over you. The noise of the endless city faded away, and the duracrete jungle bloomed with color as the auras of the people around you came into view. You shuttered your mind against the rising tide of thoughts, focusing your attention, looking for one signature as familiar to you as your own. You cast your net wide, and let yourself float in the sea of noise. You could be patient. 

It caught you off guard, when you finally sensed it. A presence, so close to you that you could taste it in the back of your throat. You recoiled at the seething mass of anger and malice, and opened your eyes to see a figure shrouded in black, backlit by the flickering neon at the mouth of the alley you had hidden yourself in. You scrambled to your feet, putting a hand on the hilt of your saber. Before you could make another move, the figure moved, so fast it looked like they teleported the short distance down the alley. One hand caught yours, gently pulling your wrist away from your saber. The other grasped your chin, thumb and forefinger softly but firmly pulling your gaze up to their face. 

Under the hood, you met their eyes. Blazing yellow irises, set in familiar fine boned features you’d dreamed about running your fingers over. Geto stood over you, radiating a power that he had kept locked away all your years together at the Temple. You felt your knees weaken under you, and the corner of his lips quirked up as he felt you sag in his grasp.

“Hello, little light,” he murmured, eyes sweeping over your face. “So brave of you, to leave your pretty tower and come looking for the murderer.”

“I don’t believe it,” you bring a hand up to his face, and he lets you touch him. His skin is warm, almost feverish. There is more color to his face than you have seen on his features for a long time, and the bags under his eyes have all but disappeared. All you can look at is his eyes. His deep inky gaze used to draw you in, and now you can’t look away from the burning gold of his irises. “Suguru, please. Tell me it isn’t true,” you beg, hand dropping to rest on his shoulder. 

He grabs your hand, flattening your palm over his heart. You can practically feel it racing through the layers of muscle and black robes that now cover his chest. “Look for yourself, little light. All my secrets are finally open to you.”

You close your eyes. It’s not strictly necessary, but you find yourself looking for solace from the way his eyes seem to pick you apart. Taking a deep breath, you focus on the beat of his heart and tap into the Force. Geto fully opens himself to you, and you have to fight to orient yourself as the riptide of his emotions and memories threatens to drag you under. You find yourself choked by feelings that are not your own; grief so sharp it feels like a knife in your ribs, rage that feels like a fire in your throat, and beneath it all a yawning chasm of despair that slowly begins to drown everything else out. 

Frantically you search through his memories. His most recent ones are a mess of blood and fire. You recognise the burning structures from your dream, and through his eyes you bear witness to the humming green of his lightsaber blade cutting through villagers. 

You feel tears running down your face as you watch the carnage in Geto’s memories. Gasping, you sever the connection, jerking your whole body away from the man in front of you, achingly familiar but now wholly a stranger. He doesn’t let you get far, pulling your hand back to his chest and looping his other arm around your waist, preventing you from pulling away. 

“Don’t run away, little light,” he croons, looking down at you as you fight to catch your breath through your tears. “Let yourself feel. You tried so earnestly to reach out to me, to ease my burden. The perfect little Jedi,” he sneered, his face twisting into something ugly for a moment before his features smoothed out again. 

“The Order teaches us to be ashamed of feeling anything other than tranquility. They train us to be perfect little emotionless soldiers, ready to fight and die for their cause. How many friends do we have to watch die, how many funerals do we have to attend without being able to grieve?” he smoothed a hand over your hair, cupping your cheek with a gentle hand. “It shouldn’t be like this, little light,” he turns your face to meet his eyes. “We shouldn’t be running around the galaxy, solving every little problem for every person too weak to fend for themselves while being afraid of our own emotions, our own desires.”

“The Force made us strong so we could help the weak,” you counter. 

“Why should we be given all this power to only serve those without it?” Geto asks. “Do you truly believe that because you were born with this gift, you are to live your entire life in servitude?” You see a gleam in his eye, a teasing twist to his mouth that sends a shiver down your spine. “Tell me, little light. When was the last time that you did something only because you wanted to? How many chances have you passed by to take something that you want?”

“I know of at least a few,” he purrs, his hand sliding back to the nape of your neck, his lips close enough to yours that you can feel the soft puffs of his breath. “I don’t need your empathy to see the longing glances, the way you would start to reach for me but catch yourself.”

Geto closes the gap between you, pressing a slow, teasing kiss to the corner of your mouth. “I’m right here. You don’t need to stop yourself anymore,” he whispers against your mouth. He’s so close, all it would take is a slight movement of your head. He waits for you to close the gap, and in that moment you think of all of the times you wished to be in this exact position, wrapped up in his arms and a breath away from the kind of kiss you’d only dreamed of.

He is a siren. The promise of his kiss and what it would mean calls to desires long since hidden in your heart. He is offering you everything you’ve wanted, and for a moment, you almost give in. 

Almost.

“Not like this,” you whisper against his waiting lips. Calling the Force to you, you blast him back down the alley with the palm still pressed against his chest. You meet his wild eyes and settle into a fighting stance, pulling the hilt of your saber to your hand. The blade ignites with a hiss, the light casting harsh shadows in the dark alley. “Suguru Geto, I must take you in for crimes against the Galactic Republic.” 

“So this is how it’s going to be,” he says with a sigh, standing to his full height and running a hand through his hair that had been blown out of its tie by your push. He pulls up the hood of his dark cloak, and steps out of the alley. You run forward, saber in hand, only to be greeted by a busy street of underworld denizens who recoil at the sight of your ignited blade. You frantically search for a trace of your old friend in the crowd. You feel a tug at your neck, as a familiar hand reaches around you to grab the pendant you wear.

 “I’ll see you again, little light,” Geto whispers in your ear. He waves at you when you whirl around, your pendant twinkling in his hand, before he fades into the crowd around you.

[cursingtoji]

Hi pretty baby!! How are u doing it’s been a lil while 🥰💕 I came by bc I just saw your event! I was thinking sexual tension with Aki from csm could be fun for you to do if you like (more fun for me to read I’m sure ahfksjfjd) anyway I hope ur doing good ily mwah mwah xx

𝑺𝒆𝒙𝒖𝒂𝒍 𝑻𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏

luxe you have no idea how happy i got when i saw your ask 💕 this means a lot thank you for joining 💕 The Clichés ™

— peak summer in japan.

the small devil you two were fighting wasn’t strong or even fast, but the heat wave made you all slow and weak, so when it ran on your direction you couldn’t attack it properly, instead you get knocked over and fell down the stairs of the abandoned building.

“fuck” you murmured hazily, aki ran towards you offering a hand, when you took it and tried to get up your ankle protested and you lost balance hissing from the pain.

aki was quick to steady you by your waist, you looked up where your partner’s face was mere inches from yours, mesmerizing blue eyes too close for comfort.

his forehead was shiny with sweat. a few hairs sticking to it, the first few buttons of his shirt were open and sleeves rolled up. even his tie was hanging low. it was the first time you saw him that disheveled and it made your legs weak.

“the devil escaped” you muttered.

“i know” he muttered back with you still in his arms, “there’s a hospital not too far from—“

“no, they’ll tell me to put ice and rest, i’ll just go home” you tried to put some weight on the twisted — possibly broken — ankle and almost fell again but aki’s hands tighten up around you.

“my place is closer, let’s go” he let go of you to turn around flexing his knees slightly for you to hop on his back.

your arms went around his neck and legs wrapped on his waist. aki gulped to the feeling of your breasts pressed on his shoulder blades, he straightened himself and tried to adjust you by holding your thighs but his hands went a little bit too far squeezing your ass accidentally to which he immediately apologized.

“you didn’t have to offer me a piggyback ride if all you wanted was to grab my ass, hayakawa” you giggled and his ears got pink.

“as if i wanted to grab your sweaty ass on purpose” he started to walk with you on his back as easy as carrying a simple backpack.

“shut up, i can literally feel how drenched your back is.”

you and aki bickering/flirting was nothing but normal, whenever denji was around to witness it he always said something along the lines of “get a room”. now it’s different cause you have never been this close to each other before, aki kept talking about how inevitable it was for him to get this sticky when tokyo was going through a 100% humility that week, but this trivial conversation was only to distract him for having your arms around him and your legs occasionally brushing against his crotch. you of course was also affected by the proximity, he smelled fresh even after sweating all day, you teased him about his sweaty back but thanks to it you could feel the muscles under his shirt.

when you arrived to his building you tried to let go of him but he held your legs.

“what you doing?” he asked.

“i’m not climbing those stairs on your back, what if you fall back and crush me to death?” you placed your good foot on the floor.

“yeah cause i’m the one that fell down the stairs and broke my foot.”

“i was pushed by the devil you let escape.”

“i only let it escape after he knocked your dumbass. now come here cause i have things to do” aki bent and took you bridal style all the way up stairs, a great way to shut you up, “devil got your tongue?”

“fuck off, hayakawa” you turned your head so he wouldn’t see your cheeks heating up.

somehow he managed to open his door, kick his shoes off with you still on his lap and enter the quiet house.

“where—“

“they’re with kishibe” he answered knowing what your question was going to be.

you got placed on the couch and quickly sat up to take a look at your ankle but aki was faster.

“it’s quite swollen” he held your leg up by your calf, when he tried to roll your pants up he touched your ankle and your pulled your leg back hissing in pain, “you can’t put ice on top of your pants” he justified.

“these are skinny jeans, i can’t roll it up, especially now” you looked down at your ankle, the hem was already too tight around it.

“then you’re gonna have to take it off” he simply told you before turning around.

“is this your plan to see me naked?” you playfully narrowed your eyes at him.

“yeah this all just part of it” he replied sarcastically and picked the thick blanket from the couch to toss at you.

“ew i’m not covering myself with that, it’s hot as fuck already” you pushed the blanket off of you.

“you’re really fucking annoying you know that?” he huffed and disappeared into a room, coming back with a bed sheet that went straight to your face, it smelled like aki and you guessed it was his bedsheet.

“do you always treat your guests like that? rude!” you barked back unbuttoning your jeans and pushing it down one leg easily but carefully with the other.

aki stood there waiting for you to take them off completely before handing you the frozen food package he picked, he didn’t mean to stare but he ended up taking a peek at your red underwear while you struggled with the hem of the tight black jeans (which he obviously noted when you met that the morning). he cleared his suddenly dry throat removing his tie and opening a few buttons of his shirt.

“don’t you have a fan or something?” you asked when you managed to kick the pants off and used the sheets to cover your bottom.

“power broke it” he walked over to the glass door and opened, it wasn’t enough to cool you down but it was slightly better. aki took your legs and sat with them on top of his lap — since the couch was small — carefully putting the frozen package on top of it. “better?” he asked with one hand touching the skin above the swollen area.

“i’m gonna get all wet” you replied without thinking your choice of words throughout “i mean— from the heat and… the ice… melting and…” when you met aki’s eyes they were dark, he was breathing heavily and when he noticed a droplet going from your temple all the way down your cleavage he couldn’t help the groan that left his throat. why did you have to say things like that? and look at him like this? and have the softest fucking skin?

it happened fast, he placed your leg on his shoulder before he took an impulse to close the gap between you two and kiss you like he wanted to have done for a long time ago. aki’s lips were soft and he tasted like the cigarette he was smoking earlier, you were panting on each other’s lips in little to no time.

in a swift move aki ripped the sheet out of your body and you were quick to wrap your other leg around him, his crotch directly brushing against the damp spot of your underwear. he kissed your neck, the sweat being almost like an aphrodisiac to him.

“you are all wet” he breathed against your clothed core, using the words you said earlier.

“fuck you” you sighed when you felt his fingers exploring the shape of your pussy

“yeah, fuck me” when aki was about to dive in like a thirsty man the door opened.

denji took one step with a knocked out power hanging on his shoulder, he was killed countless times that day by kishibe and couldn’t wait to hit the bed, so when he looked up to see aki staring wide eyed at him with his hair falling off the ponytail, a girl’s leg on his shoulder and his bed sheets all over the floor, he tiredly sighed and turned around carrying power who started to question what he was doing.

“you own me big time, topknot”.

See also: Wet transparent shirt — Denji

[blazethecheeto]

okay let's go in order of the narrative i carved out of this album (guys i know this might not make any sense just hear me out)

-

fainted love

this is probably the most accurate song to describe their past relationship. (at least to me) they both took comfort in each other for their flaws and darkness, nothing more. there was a twisted sort of love there, for both of them, but on the surface, it was just comfort from the only person they had.

there was this fanfic i read where it had this dynamic between them and UGH I CANT REMEMBER IT BUT IT FR CHANGED MY LIFE.

-

winner

so. so their relationship wasn't all good. their 'casual situationship' was soulcrushing for virgil, they really were toxic for each other.

this was when it started to crumble apart. when he started to consider leaving.

-

alley rose

*gets out spreadsheet* so besides my soul ascending the moment i heard this song, this absolutely shattered me thinkin about anxceit. this is janus's pov, virgil is his alley rose. their love was so fragile, so terrifying for him, that he didn't care whether it would end one day. he loved him more than virgil knew.

(FUCK OFF BRO THIS SONG 😭)

-

found heaven

see this reminds me of virgil leaving the dark sides, the whole 'you're no demon' analogy as he leaves them for the light sides, he feels wrong but he's found a new place to stay that accepts him.

not a perfect analogy, but the religious imagery in the song does remind me of patton and thomas- the guilt inside of all them to be either on the good or bad sides.

-

eye of the night

this sounds like virgil being paranoid about janus watching him everywhere he went after he left- the whole 'see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil' analogy.

janus bill cipher connections go crazy

-

never ending song

LOOK THIS IS WHEN JANUS APPEARED. virgil thought he escaped his old life, but the moment janus showed up, all the memories came flooding back and he realized the cycle will start over. that's why he keeps interrupting janus whenever he tried to speak, snapping at him to just leave.

virgil 'wasted' his adolescence giving himself to janus even though he always kept him at arm's length.

-

lonely dancers

k this is just virgil bonding with the others over bad exes. i immediately thought of that moment in svs where janus flirted with roman in front of him and he flipped up his hoodie and sulked. he's still salty about it, but wants to rub in his face that he's better off.

(it reminds me of let's kill tonight, which is on virgil's playlist- the same energy of let's dance and party so we forget heartbreak)

-

the final fight

me when anxceit confrontation song. look, i don't even have to analyze anymore i can just post the lyrics. but yeah i will fucking riot if virgil doesn't have this angsty ass speech to janus in the finale, asking him why, telling him what he put him through. i can see a narrative in this album now, from him leaving, to introducing their past, to the inevitable confrontation.

its funny how these songs genuinely sound like they'd be on virgil's playlist bc half of the songs in his playlist are angsty janus songs.

-

miss you

another janus song holy- he knows he hurt virgil, he knows his own flaws and insecurity ruined them. but he misses him a lot. this is the other half of the confrontation, where janus retorts back to the final fight, accepting that he treated him wrongly, but he never meant to break his heart.

:((

-

forever with me

now this song totally ruined me when i heard it. after the confrontation, janus and virgil both really thought about how they affected each other their whole lives.

in another life, they don't fuck it up. in another life they put aside their insecurities and love each other right. and they're still gonna be together forever. (they have to be)

-

i skipped bourge-jesus or whatever it's called bc it didn't rlly fit the narrative. (although i think the light sides could symbolize the bourgejizzers, and how the dark sides used to make fun of them or pretend they were them in the past) then again i could make anything sanders-sides related if i tried.

boys & girls i skipped too, and killing me had the same implications as winner. ANYWAYS HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS RANT IM GOING INSANEEEEE I LOVE ANXCEIT SO MUCH

stream found heaven it's a godly album also i might keep doing these, especially for their official playlists i have a doc that's like 60k words with me analyzing each song.

found heaven is an anxceit album send tweet

[underoospeterparker]

OMG OMG PRI CONGRATS ON 600! SO HAPPY FOR YOU. YOU DESERVE IT MWAH 💋

I have a coral for you 🪸!

what about jj Maybank x Spider-Man au?

AAH OMG I LOVE UR WORK <3

ily!! thank u for requesting!

join the celebration

jj maybank x spiderman!au, 1k words

hurt/comfort, angst to fluff, swearing

You sat on the sofa in the Chateau, surrounded by Kiara and Sarah while you drank from your beers and chatted. A realisation struck you suddenly and you turned to Kiara.

"Kie, where's JJ?" You asked her, slightly worried that your boyfriend hadn't shown up yet. He was normally always at the Chateau and if he wasn't, it meant something was most likely wrong.

Kiara shrugged, then turned over on the couch to face you and Sarah, beer on her lap. "Dunno," she replied, "but I heard him telling John B he had to go home for something."

"Shit," you whispered. Sarah nodded along with you. JJ's dad was violent. Violent enough that he would beat up his son and not feel even slightly guilty about it. "I'm gonna go check up on him," you said, placing your unfinished bottle on the table, "is that okay?"

Sarah smiled. "Go ahead." You looked to Kiara for confirmation. She rolled her eyes and gestured to the door playfully.

Once you were outside, you let out a breath that you'd been holding in your lungs for far too long. "(Y/N)!" John B called to you from the porch steps. You turned around, and he asked, "where're you going?"

"Need to find Jayj," you replied, a grim look on your face. John B nodded. "Can I take the Twinkie?" You gave him and Pope your best puppy dog eyes, and John B finally relented, throwing you the keys. "Thanks, JB."

He smiled at you. "Don't thank me. Just go find JJ, okay?"

Even Pope looked worried, lip caught between his teeth, no matter how much he tried to hide it. "Tell him hi for us," Pope yelled to you in the distance, and you gave him a thumbs up.

-

"JJ, you come back here right now!"

He slammed his house door shut, ignoring his father's angry shouts as he jogged to an alley out of view. He slung his backpack off his shoulder, and unzipped his bag, changing into his suit as quickly as possible.

JJ hid his bag behind a dumpster with his mask in hand. He jumped from rooftop to rooftop while trying to put his mask on with one hand, the other shooting webs as quickly as the tiny device would allow him.

People on the streets stared, pointing up at him as he moved quickly on top of the buildings. Many pulled out their phones from the pockets to record him as he swung past, and JJ grinned under the mask, even throwing up a peace sign in one of the selfies.

He made his usual rounds, but nothing very interesting was going on. JJ started to head back to his house, but stopped when he saw the Twinkie parked outside and you walking up to the porch steps, hesitating and looking around with a worried look at your face.

"J?" You called, a frown tilting the corner of your lips down. Your boyfriend watched as his dad swung the door open, cigarette between his lips, staggering down the porch steps. You retreated, stumbling on your shoelace before you steadied yourself.

You nodded. "Luke," you acknowledged him, "you seen JJ?"

Luke frowned. "No, I haven't seen the little shit." He looked confused. "You know where he is," he came to the conclusion, reaching towards you.

"No, I don't, dumbass," you replied, clearly not scared of him. "Why the hell else would I come to you?"

JJ's dad's hand reached for your throat, tightening until your airway was completely blocked up and you were gasping for air. He squeezed your neck.

"You know where he is," he repeated dumbly, a psychotic grin spreading across his face, his hold faltering, "and you'll tell me right now, or-"

Out of nowhere, Luke was kicked straight into the dumpster, and his hold on you released. You collapsed to the ground, desperately trying to get air back into your empty lungs.

From the corner of your eye, you realised it was none other than Spiderman who had come to your rescue. The masked vigilante that had been swinging across Outer Banks ever since John B's dad had disappeared.

With one of your hands braced against the ground, your other came up to your neck to gingerly touch at the bruise. You let go, wincing, as you heard a soft thwip and Luke was tied up, unconscious.

Spiderman knelt in front of you, the black triangles that resembled his eyes peering at you, almost concerned. Then, he reached up to his head and pulled the mask off entirely, and it was none other than JJ.

You gasped in both shock and pain when he pressed at your neck gently, tilting his head so he could inspect the bruise. "'m sorry, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice soft. "You doing okay?"

You looked at him, mouth agape in shock, unable to form words. "What the hell, JJ? You're Spiderman?" You managed, stuttering, your words unfinished.

JJ's face softened even further, if that was even possible. "Yeah," he said, sheepish. "Couldn't tell you, honey, or it would put you at risk. Needed to keep my girl safe, alright?"

At this, you relaxed, and he pulled you into a hug. You rested your head against his chest, his heartbeat a soothing sound to your ears. JJ stroked at your hair gently, scratching at your scalp until you went lax in his arms. You heard a grunt, but it wasn't from JJ. You pulled back, both of you turning your attention to Luke.

JJ's dad blinked his eyes open, his gaze going straight to JJ. He sighed. "Now, what the actual fu-"

[elsweetheart]

pussywarming!!!!!! no bc u actually just put a name to somethin i’ve been thinking about for ages…need her to hold me there even if there’s no expectation of sex at that moment, just her big warm hand gently cupping n protecting u there :( feel like it would b so comforting, knowing how much she loves u and ur pussy at every moment regardless of if it leads to sex or not <//3 u are her sweet girl and that’s her sweet pussy, at all times always

ilu kittie that actually made me feel soso much better already, all i needed was some abby thoughts n some kittie time!! m soso glad u like what i send, u are by far my fave person to bounce ideas around with <3 mwah mwah mwah

ily dolly i’m so glad !!!! <33333

but yes !!!!!! it’s just a warm comforting feeling like i could cry :( maybe when you just feel empty or just cold or need her, she’ll be standing there and you’ll come up to her all close and gently take her hand and put it there, leaning your head softly to her chest. and she’d look down at you with a little concerned frown and stroke the back of your head and be like “you okay baby? you need me?” all soft and sweet waaaa i luv her

[cheollipop]

seventeen game caterers has become my comfort show and I blame you entirely <33 ty for dragging me head first into these idiots ily mwah

orion aaa! 🥹

I'm so happy I got to introduce you to them all those months ago, and I hope they never stop giving you comfort! gose on repeat is the only reason I made it this far tbh hahaha ily mwah mwah ❤️

[gojosdove]

Yall university is kicking me in the ASS

The transfer process was hell in itself and now I have a shit ton of tests I have to do before December 😭😭 I wanna write but ugh I’m so exhausted, once this shit is over I’ll probably get back to writing, I’ve been wanting to make a shiu fic and a new Geto fic (I hate the one I made)

anyways ily and thank you for 200!!! I literally never thought I’d get that far ily all so much MWAH MWAH 🩵🩵