#this ended up being more depressing than i had in mind
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Daily Vibe Check 11/14
Seunghan
Strength + The Star
This is a lot of courage and faith. Particularly, it is not necessarily peoactive action based but internal. I have said before that he seems to be preparing himself for something, and it seems to be it. He has a lot of hope today. Today is a good day for him.
What is he doing today?
The Wheel of Fortune + Knight of Cups + The Emperor
This is a lot of internal and personal work. He is still very much in the energy of acceptance. A lot of people have seemed to get the wrong idea from this. So, while I was reading this today, I felt called to a specific phrase in pulling the Wheel card. "What comes up must come down." Understand that this is true vise versa as well. Seunghan's acceptance stems from the fact that he feels he cannot possibly reach a point lower than what had happened now. Whatever happens will be just as impactful and in a positive way in his mind. Today, he is handling his affairs and future plans. For once, he is alone, but he is not depressed today. He has a lot of willpower, a lot of heart, and determination to make the best out of his day. He may interact with a pet or other animals today. I also see him practicing maybe singing? Something creative and vocal.
Finances (someone asked abt this so adding it to check-in)
3 of Coins + 3 of Wands + 8 of Swords
The spread suggests the current situation is one where if he works hard with others, there is a definite opportunity to reap very good rewards and new opportunities to come. However, with the 8 of Swords, there seems to be a tension in that these rewards and opportunities cannot be reached until he has broken free of certain constraints and setbacks. I think the current situation. But He seems to have a good support system- at least financially to be healthy and okay for the time being. The situation could change soon though if nothing is done about the 8 of Swords energy.
Bottom of the Deck:
The Lovers
In this context, we are talking about the harmonious decision made between multiple entities. I think this card seeks to represent Seunghan's intentions. He wants things to end harmoniously with no ill feelings or contempt. He is going to choose peace every time. That's just how and who he is. (Libras amirite lmfao)
Final Notes:
Tbh guys I am getting the feeling that good things will happen but not when we want them to. Everything i have been reading daily has been screaming PATIENCE. I am not that patient tbh. But i think I could wait a bit longer as long as the ending is satisfactory.
However, i am being told it is seriously important that we make whatever time we have left count here....things have been shifting, and SM is sly no matter what. They believe this could still possibly fade into the dark. Things need to be more visible, and garner more attention. POSITIVE attention TOWARDS Seunghan and attention to SM to DO SOMETHING not just insult them- but a literal call to action in a way we have not done before. I keep saying this, but tbh it's super super important right now as I speak. I'm getting literal goosebumps about it, so I pulled some cards asking abt Seunghan's return to Riize to checkup:
7 of Wands + 5 of Wands
This is a fight. We MUST stand our ground. We MUST not forget what we are doing. And We CANNOT afford to lose the war. It is clear there are still details and stipulations causing a lot of hesitance and inner fighting on SMs side. We absolutely need to remind them again why they listened to the wrong side. If we don't manage to have at least one more final hurrah here- it's not looking AS good as before.
Please please please do not give up.
#astrology#kpop#tarot#riize is 7#riize is seven#riize#smsupportsbullying#seunghan#anton#eunseok#sungchan#shotaro#sohee#wonbin#bring back seunghan
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seventeen as dreamwalkers <3
a/n: i started this after "last night" dropped because i was thoroughly obsessed with the concept. since i went to the last show of their tour, i needed to escape into thoughts of them, lest i wallow in my post-concert depression </3 please enjoy these sweet moments that i hope you share with them in your dreams tonight :,-) pics not mine~
content: dreamwalker!seventeen, supernatural au | wc: 2.3k | warnings: none really! | pairing: seventeen x gn!reader | requests: open
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
seungcheol♡‧₊˚
inside jokes with your best friend, a refreshing breeze on a hot day, pure relaxation
the first time you saw seungcheol, you were charmed by his boy-next-door looks and grounded energy. seungcheol didn’t start with a special plan for your dreams. he wanted, more than anything, to get to know you. in his mind, the better he knew you, the better he could comfort you, bring you joy, and make your dreams a safe space overall. it turned out, however, that the best way to spend your dreams was simply bonding with seungcheol. he was surprised at first when you wanted to know more about him. seunghceol often forgot that he could be the center of attention, but, after meeting you, he was reminded of his worth. it wasn’t long until he happily shared the parts of himself no one else had seen, cherishing every part of you he got to hold through each night. one night, after a particularly vulnerable conversation, he sighed contentedly and admitted, “i hope i get to spend every night like this, with you, for the rest of my life.”
jeonghan♡‧₊˚
someone tucking your hair behind your ear, freshly cut fruit, cherry blossoms
jeonghan’s sweetness was the most refreshing thing you had ever dreamt of. after he grew more comfortable with you, his mischievous side crept out, but, in the beginning, he was the definition of charming. even after he started joking around and fondly teasing you, there was a tenderness underneath every word and action. jeonghan wanted to be gentle with you. he valued the trust you gave him, and he was well aware of the responsibility that came with visiting your dreams. therefore, regardless of the silly activities he conjured up for the night, jeonghan always asked you how you were doing. he loved celebrating the highs with you and holding you through the lows. jeonghan, it seemed, thought nothing was sweeter than sharing time and space with you. once, he made you promise that you’d never dream about anyone else, smiling with his pinky outstretched to you and his heart on his sleeve.
joshua♡‧₊˚
a happy ending, finding the perfect song when you need it most, the smell of flowers blooming
from the moment you met joshua in your dreams, you knew he was a romantic. you didn’t have to assume; he told you immediately. joshua thought that, if you two were interacting in such a romantic space, then he, as the resident gentleman, should take the lead in curating your dreams. every night, you two recreated movie scenes. at first, it was classic romances. after a while, he asked you about your most beloved characters and ships, wanting you to experience the love you admired on the screen. it was funny, cheesy, heartwarming, and so very sweet to act like this with joshua. at the end of every performance, he would give you a huge round of applause and claim that you both were award-winning actors. though he was too shy to tell you this, joshua’s favorite scenes to recreate were the ones in which he got to say, “i love you.”
junhui♡‧₊˚
your favorite plushie, fully belly laughs, hearing “i miss you” from someone you love
you were caught off guard when you encountered an unbelievably statuesque man in your dreams. you were even more surprised when the first thing he asked was, “do you want to play hide and seek?” junhui understood the importance of dreams being a reprieve from the stresses of the real world. that’s why he designed different playgrounds for you to enjoy. every night you met, you would laugh through the night, racing down slides, watching jun jump off the swings, or, of course, playing hide and seek. he always had the biggest smile when he played with you. while he knew he was there to make your dreams wonderful, he never shied away from saying that every moment he spent with you was a dream come true. usually, after saying that, he’d giggle relentlessly and dare you to chase him around the playground. you complied every time, still unable to believe how free and invincible jun made you feel.
soonyoung♡‧₊˚
sunlight reflecting off clear water, freshly picked berries, a voice sweetly calling your name
soonyoung found you during one of your lowest nights. or, rather, he looked for you, sensing your pain and wanting nothing more than to ease your burden. with every smile, with every gesture, with every word spoken, he made you feel light as a feather, regardless of how heavy the world was. soonyoung buzzed with excitement as soon as you met, and it was contagious during each visit. soonyoung told you stories. he asked you a million questions, wanting to know your habits, likes, dreams–really everything about you–but he always reminded you that you could tell him “no.” you rarely felt the need to, though. soonyoung was the softest person you ever knew, and the comfort corner he created in your dreams was where you found complete authenticity and peace. the second you confessed this to him, he practically squealed from the elation of it all. soonyoung thanked you over and over, admitting that bonding with you is one of the greatest gifts he has ever received.
wonwoo♡‧₊˚
sunlight breaking through the curtains, a compliment you’ve always wanted to hear, a dash of cinnamon
wonwoo believed that dreams were a source of relief, a reprieve from whatever turbulence waking life may offer. when he met you, he saw the tension in your shoulders and that broke his heart–how could someone like you be carrying so much weight even while you slept? at that first encounter, wonwoo led you to a bench swing beneath a beautiful tree, sitting beside you and breathing peacefully. he let you know that, no matter what, he would offer you quiet time to be yourself. when you suggested you two have a picnic, he happily agreed, ensuring your favorite items were available and that the weather was just right. his most cherished time with you was when you rested your bodies on a soft sofa, and you watched him as he read you his favorite stories. he wasn’t sure what the look in your eye meant. before he asked, you answered, “everywhere with you feels like home. when i look at you, i see my home.” the blush that covered his skin let you know that wonwoo saw his home when he looked at you too.
jihoon♡‧₊˚
the echo of piano keys, familiar footsteps, a promise to return that’s fulfilled
the first time you saw jihoon in a dream, you awoke with only the feeling of serenity and a brief but vivid memory of his angelic face. even as his visits became more frequent, you were always left with little more than a glimpse of him. jihoon felt just out of reach and entirely a part of you at the same time. one morning, by some stroke of luck, you remembered asking him in the dream, “why can’t i ever remember you properly?” he smiled sweetly, amused by your desire to engrave him in your mind. he admitted, “all i wanted to be was a safe place for you to rest. i never thought you’d want anything more than that.” when you told him you wished to carry memories of him in your waking life, he promised that you’d remember him each morning when you opened your eyes, just as you had recognized him every night when you closed them. jihoon kept his promise, leaving you with such clear memories that the feeling of safety he created for you every night enveloped you throughout your days too.
seokmin♡‧₊˚
the first day of spring, secrets shared in a pillow fort, laughing until you can’t breathe
you were the first person seokmin ever visited in their dreams, so he had no idea what he should do. in a panic, he told you he could sing before he even told you his name. as soon as you heard his angelic voice, you knew there was no going back. seokmin was thrilled. he kept a running list of your favorite songs, learning them as quickly as he could. seokmin also sang songs that reminded him of you, filling your nights with the sweetest serenades. nothing made seokmin feel more special than the sparkle in your eyes and the look on your face when you listened to him sing. he truly felt that he would be content if you were the only person he ever sang for. you were his perfect audience, which he told you many, many times. once, when you asked how he sang so well, he casually replied, “i’ve been practicing all my life because music is one of the most important things to me.” as he watched you applaud for him, he wanted to add, i never knew that singing would lead me to the most important person in my life, but i’m glad i worked so hard for you.
mingyu♡‧₊˚
the glow of a fireplace in a dark room, bedsheets hung in the yard to dry, a smile meant for only you
mingyu made your dreams a home. he knew that he could take you anywhere, explore the whole world with you if he wanted, but truly he just wanted to spend time with you. mingyu loved seeing you comfortable. he was enraptured by you, and he loved nothing more than creating a life with you. together you two spent time making meals, rearranging furniture, playing games, having deep conversations, or sipping tea and enjoying each other’s company. to some, it may have sounded strange, but mingyu insisted that you two plan a future together. you resisted at first, unsure how planning a future with the man who was only in your dreams would be helpful. then, because mingyu is adorably persistent, you played along, not really believing it was more than fantasy. after some time, however, you got the same feeling in your heart that mingyu had all along: we were meant to meet each other. it started here, but it’s only a matter of time before we find each other after the sunrise.
minghao♡‧₊˚
whispered confessions, your beloved’s fingers brushing against yours, the pink clouds at dawn
dreams of minghao should be considered the eighth wonder of the world. every time he appears, he recreates beautiful places he has traveled to before, so you can experience them too. he cherishes nothing more than walking beside you, either in silent contemplation or excited conversation, through all the locales that left a lasting impression on his mind. minghao cannot fathom spending his time in any other way. you, after all, have left quite the impression on his heart. he will do anything to find you again and again, just to witness the glimmer in your eyes when he shares something beautiful with you. what’s most engraved in his brain is the moment you stood beside him and admitted, “every special place i’ve been to, i have been there with you.” minghao spends every night trying to find the right way to express how your dreams have become the most special place he’s ever experienced.
seungkwan♡‧₊˚
the moon’s reflection in still water, kind conversations on city streets, the smile of someone who knows you well
seungkwan thought it was magical, how he could find you every night. to him, you were the dream. he never wanted to show off or to make anything so spectacular that you wouldn’t be able to enjoy the shared energy between you two. as such, he loved nothing more than to create a star-filled night sky for you. you’d tell him your favorite things, and he’d rearrange the stars to your liking. as clichéd as it was, seungkwan adored watching you stargaze. he marveled at your beauty every time your dreams brought you together. one night, when your eyes sparkled while observing a constellation of your favorite flower, seungkwan murmured, “ah, you are so beautiful, my sky.” his ears turned bright red, but the sweet smile on your face meant he had no regrets about his confession.
hansol♡‧₊˚
finding the perfect idea, someone who understands you completely, the warmth of your favorite place
you laughed the first time you met hansol because, rather than a grand entrance, he casually walked up to you and asked, “so…what do you want to do?” this relaxed energy permeated every night you spent with hansol. eventually, you two developed a habit of trying out different crafts together, mostly because you could laugh when you failed and fawn over each other’s successes. hansol created a place for you to experiment and express yourself, and he did it so naturally you felt he had been by your side your entire life. when you confessed this to him, he confessed that he felt the same way. hansol even had a theory that you two had been meeting in dreams your whole lives, despite only remembering the times you met as adults. at first, you thought it was just another of his silly conspiracies. you changed your mind, though, when you woke up to see the origami he made the previous night next to your bed. your connection with hansol transcended dreams, and this paper figure of your favorite animal proved that.
chan♡‧₊˚
childhood belief, a long-awaited victory, hearing “i’m proud of you” from someone you admire
you’ll never forget the first time you saw chan in a dream. he was bright, bubbly, and all around ready for a good time. he wanted to show you how far you could push the limits of reality in your subconscious, and he did so by trying out different superpowers with you. there were no villains to fight–unless you wanted them–but there were plenty of ways to transform with superhuman abilities. chan ran through all the classics with you: invisibility, teleporation, flying, etc. then, he would laugh hysterically while you two tried to invent new superpowers. anything from changing coffee flavors by snapping your fingers or being able to breathe underwater, chan wanted to try it with you. he convinced you that all it took to save the world was a smile, which is something he gave you every time you looked at him.
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#seventeen x reader#svt x reader#seventeen fluff#svt fluff#seungcheol#jeonghan#joshua#junhui#soonyoung#wonwoo#jihoon#seokmin#mingyu#minghao#seungkwan#hansol#chan#scoups#jun#hoshi#woozi#dokyeom#dk#the8#vernon#dino#sweetkpopmusings
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Until The End (Levi x Reader)- Chapter 26
[The Waiting Game]
_____ A/N: Posted on Wattpad (@CLARE_875) but also decided to post here :)
Summary:
"You can push me away, but I will still fight by you, and I will still follow you… until the end."
The ever-so-stoic Levi Ackerman has only ever known the terrors that living in a cruel world could bring. This all changed one fateful day when he encountered [y/n]; a girl renowned for her looks and abnormal speed. As they escape the confines of the Underground together, they soon discover that freedom doesn't come easy in a world full of Titans. As they rise through the ranks, [y/n] becomes known as "Humanity's Angel", a beacon of hope to humanity as she melts the walls Levi had built around his heart. However, she has her secrets too, and a dark past that might just threaten to pull them apart.
The storyline and characters of Attack on Titan do NOT belong to me, but all to Hajime Isayama; however, I do own this story, and all that occurs disparate to that storyline.
[Series Masterlist] [Chapter Twenty-Five] <--> [Chapter Twenty-Seven] _____
[Three Months Later]
It had been three months. Three months since Levi felt the whisper of your touch, heard the fleeting sound of your voice, and saw your angelic smile as you gazed up at him. He was doing no better than that retched day when he found out that you had been stolen from him, by the enemy he swore to kill; to destroy. He could feel himself slowly losing his mind. He rarely left your shared chambers. He rarely ate anything. He rarely slept at all, and even when he did, he was plagued by nightmares of your screaming, your voice taunting him. He still remembers those dreams, haunted by them even in his wake as you call out to him desperately or berate him for his lack of strength in saving you. The worst ones are where you say nothing at all, silent with your blank eyes looking at him devoid of love or life.
Hange is worried, to say the least. It had been two months since they caught him trying to flee the walls to look for you himself. They had berated him as he crumbled under your absence. How they needed to be more prepared, how the enemy spanned wider than he could possibly imagine. How he would die if he left alone. But Levi didn't care anymore. He didn't know where you were, if you were hurt, if you were being tortured... he didn't even know if you were alive. He was utterly exhausted, utterly heartbroken and he didn't know what to say or do. The usual cleanliness he held himself to starts to deteriorate around him. Now clothes and belongings lay scattered on the floor, broken glass haphazardly swept to the side, the trace of his rage several nights ago. Levi was glad that most of the duties left for the people inside the wall were to rebuild the town of Shiganshina after all the Titans within Wall Maria were eventually killed.
It meant he was finally free to wallow in the absence of prying eyes. Hange was shocked when they walked in one night to see him, back against the wall, drinking alcohol from the bottle. So devoid of the man they knew refusing the drink they claimed was foul. What they once hoped would be better tamed by time was turning into the opposite. No matter how many weeks passed Hange couldn't remember a single day the dark aura didn't cloud Levi's presence, an embodiment of depression and loss. His usually pale completion seemed somehow paler and his cheeks slightly more sucken in. Hange couldn't remember the number of times they had to drag him out of his room or force him to eat and shower and look after himself.
The man who had usually seemed so composed as he eyed death in the face. The man that had faced so much loss in his life, but somehow remained strong and rebounded for the next battle was lost in his misery. It was worse than Hange could've imagined. Hange and the rest of the Scouts suffered as well. Despite the many losses of the Scouts and Commander Erwin, somehow your absence hit harder. What sadness that was usually cured by your kind words, what comfort that would be provided by your warm embrace was now lost to them. And now Hange feels as though they had lost all of the people they used to call a friend. They missed your encouraging words, Erwin's certainty, Mobilt and their squad's presence and would do anything for even a snarky response from Levi. Now, the Scout Regiment's headquarters was barren, cold and silent.
Levi was at a total loss as he lost himself in the lack of light you usually brought him. Sat slouching on his desk his pen moved across the page robotically filling the lines of paperwork he somehow was still left with. But nothing was enjoyable about it now. He couldn't hear your sweet muttering about your day or feel as you quietly undid the sore muscles in his shoulders. He was still waiting for you to open the door like you usually do, smiling softly with a pot of tea and two mugs in your hand. Levi felt a teardrop fall from his face and onto the current page he was working on, slightly smearing the ink, but he could only grit his teeth. He rubbed at his face harshly trying to continue without breaking down or losing himself in his rage, things he admits to have done several times these past few months. He wanted to kill Zeke. He wanted to find you.
He reaches for the next piece of paper in the massive pile on his desk but accidentally ends up knocking the entirety of its contents on the floor. Levi feels the lack of patience creep in as he snaps the pen in his hands in half before he groans and goes to pick up the pages now scattered on the floor. His heart is heavy in the screaming silence of the room and he swears he hears ringing in his ears from the intensity of it as he slowly picks up the pages. His eyes then go to the underside of the armchair in the room to reach for another piece of paper before his hand falters at the sight of a small green box underneath it. He freezes before he decides to pick it up. He puts his papers down and sits on the couch, he had never seen this before. But as he opens it, his heart gets caught in his throat as he sees the carefully folded pieces of paper, your handwriting spilled upon them.
My dearest Levi,
If you're reading this, I'm afraid it means I was unable to fulfil my promise.
I know you are probably angry and I don't expect you to forgive me but Levi, I just wanted to thank you for all that you have done for me, for all of this time. When I met you in those barren streets of the Underground so many years ago, I could've never imagined my saviour could turn into such a loyal friend. I could've never imagined we would remain by each other's side and grow up with each other. I never let myself think that you could ever return my growing feelings, but you did.
You were my light in my darkest moments. You were the safety I could always rely on. You were everything to me Levi. Every time I look at you, every smile you spare me, every kind gesture or remark, I remember it all. Just know that in my final moments, I only think of you. I only remember the warmth you gave me and the freedom and life you provided me. I will never blame you Levi, whatever happens, so don't blame yourself because I know you are.
You gave me a life worth living.
I'm afraid this is where we say goodbye though Levi. All I ask is that you don't do anything reckless and that you look after yourself. That is all I would ever want from you. You are such an incredible man with incredible strength, I know you will overcome this as you have done everything else. You have so much more to live for Levi, embrace your time here on this Earth, do it for me, for the both of us.
Even in my absence just know that I will still fight by you and I will still be with you, always. I will wait for you my love, until you meet your end, which hopefully awaits far into the future.
I know we never believed in saying these three words in the cruel world we live in, but Levi, I truly and irrevocably mean it when I say, I love you.
Stay safe my love, until we meet again.
[y/n]
Levi can't help it now when his grip tightens on the pages of your writing and hot tears stream down his face. He fights to keep quiet in the dark and barren room that lacks the warmth of your touch; he wants to scream. He didn't know if you were still alive out there, but he swore to himself he would find you. He would find you and berate you for writing a letter after promising you'd stay with him. He would embrace you like nothing else mattered in the world. He would return the three words he was stupid enough to think didn't matter in a life shrouded by death. He would never let you go again.
Levi let himself wallow for a few more moments in his armchair before he got up, retrieving his papers. Until then he would have to go on; until he would see you again. And then, he would present to you the small box he had in the back of his drawer. A box that contained a symbol of his promise and his love, all embedded in a dainty ring.
....
[6 Months Later]
You let out a groan as you stared at the blank ceiling in boredom. It had been 9 months since you had been kidnapped or "saved" according to Zeke and you were starting to lose your mind. Levi. You missed him so much, but most of all you were worried. You hoped he was okay. You missed his warm embrace and the smiles he would spare you every day. You missed the quiet moments the both of you would share. You missed your late-night chats and cups of tea. You would do anything to be home, with him, but you can't. Not for another 3 months at least. After the events that followed your abduction, you had learnt more about the outside world, though you must admit you had seen very little of it.
Zeke rarely let you leave the small room he had confined you to, in trepidation that you would be found by the Marleyan government or find your way to Eren. However, that didn't mean you had done nothing these past few months. Any spare moments you had continued with your training to maintain your physical capabilities, but also to spare your boredom. Other times you met with the Anti-Marleyan Volunteers. They were a bunch of interesting characters, to say the least. You couldn't say if you fully trusted them yet but you could tell that their devotion, especially the woman Yelena, to Zeke was undeniable.
You hadn't met any of the other Titans including Reiner during your stay, but you were surprised as you learned that the Cart Titan, the one also responsible for your kidnapping should know you were there. You. An enemy on their territory. But you soon learnt that it was through the work of Zeke that they hadn't found you; him and his manipulative ways. During your stay, you had also been informed that Marley was currently in a state of war. The Marley Mid-East War. With Marley's operation to retain Eren failing, and the Colossal and Female Titan lost to Paradis, Marley's military capabilities were greatly reduced. This was noticed by the Mid-East Allied forces, a collection of nations that were against Marley, resulting in a war declared.
With the development of Anti-Titan artillery by the Allied forces and the lack of Titans on Marley's part, it seemed like a close battle that still saw not an inkling of an end. Due to this, you had barely really seen Zeke, but it had also meant that you and the Anti-Marley Volunteers could plan your course of infiltration on the Marley fleet that would head to Paradis in three months without much disturbance. You let out a sigh. You didn't know whether you could ever fully trust Zeke and his endeavours, but you knew that Paradis desperately needed technological advancements and support, and that was what he was willing to supply. With an enemy as large as the entire surrounding world, and the continuous developments that render Titans more and more ineffective, you could no longer rely on the skill sets and resources the Scouts have developed. You would need all the help you could get, and so you reluctantly agreed to help them help you.
You look up, breaking away from your thoughts as your door opens. It's Zeke. You sit up, you haven't seen the man in two months. "Ah, [y/n], you're still here." You roll your eyes. You won't lie, you did attempt earlier in your stay here to escape. But you soon realised how risky and useless it was in a massive town, surrounded by enemies and with no idea where to go. You had hoped to return before anyone noticed but you guess Zeke was somehow informed anyway. "Only for the time being," you mutter out before crossing your arms. "And the war," you continue as you look at the man who sits down tiredly in a chair next to the bed where you sat. "How is it going?" Zeke lets out a deep sigh. "It's rough, but we're managing." A long awkward silence takes over as you realise you have nothing else to say, that is, until Zeke speaks up once more.
"You're leaving in three months." He says it like a question and a statement at the same time. "That's right," you mutter diverting your gaze to the floor. "I'm going home. I'm afraid you won't have me to keep you company anymore." You say sarcastically as you let out a tired sigh. He lets out a half-hearted smile. "You know, it might seem like we're on two sides of one war, but we're more likeminded than you think." He says dully, clearly exhausted after the day's events. "I'll miss you [y/n], it's nice to have a sane mind around here sometimes.” You grit your teeth before laughing humourlessly. "I have somewhere I need to be. Paradis needs those advancements we made and I've already been away for too long…" Your thoughts drift to the man you love once more, feeling the deep pit of homesickness grow without him by your side.
"Is it Levi?"
You look at him, eyes widening in surprise, but Zeke looks at you, eyes grim as he sees yours glisten in the lamp by your bedside, illuminated against the darkened sky outside. "What about him?" You say trying to divert the attention away, but you already know he's caught on. "The Ackerman, huh... Funny the man who tries to kill me, is rather devoted to you." You tense at the sudden dangerous atmosphere. "What are you going to do?" You ask, unliking the heavy air that surrounds you. "Give me relationship advice? Use me against him? Restrain me here, not allowing me to go back!?" Zeke shakes his head at your rising words leaning back in his chair. "I already told you; I don't plan to keep you here any longer than I need you to. I told you I would help you return in a year, and I plan to keep my word…" There is a short silence before he speaks again.
"If it comes down to it, would you allow Levi to kill me?"
Zeke’s low voice echoes the small room as you look at him, your face grim. It's a question asked dully, but you know that Zeke is curious about what you will say. You allow the quiet to consume him for a second, but you already know your answer. "Yes." You say simply like it was the easiest answer in the world. There is a pause before Zeke lets out a low laugh that turns louder before he composes himself. "Is that right?" He mutters as he looks to you amused; this only makes your irritation for the man grow. "Then you won't blame me if I give my all in killing him?" It's your turn to go silent before you look at him like he'd grown two heads. "I'd like to see you try Zeke," you say before you let out a demonic but tired grin. "But I think we both know you'd end up in your grave long before you touch a strand of his hair."
"Is that right?" Zeke repeats still amused at your obvious confidence in the man you're so fond of. "I'd make sure of it myself." You say quietly as you turn away once more, missing Levi's presence more than ever. Maybe if he was here, he'd beat the man up for you. Zeke lets out a deep sigh, his gaze turning more serious again as he looks at you. "I get it, I get it," he says as he looks at your more withered form. Despite having fed you often, you rarely ate enough these days, he could see it in your eyes, the turmoil that came with the absence of the man you missed. Despite knowing you kept up with your training, you somehow seemed smaller, more tired, more... lifeless. "I didn't come here to taunt you like this." You laugh at his words but it doesn't reach your eyes. You turn to him. "Really? I could've sworn that's all you're capable of."
He grins but says nothing. "I actually wanted to let you know the plan. You will be heading to Paradis in three months after all and it's coming up soon." You look at him eyes sparking at the revelation. "I also have a message for the Scouts... a list of my demands."
.....
[3 months later]
You stand in a Marleyan uniform, head low as you stand next to Yelena in the same uniform. Your heart pounds against your chest. Thanks to Zeke's interference things have been smooth sailing so far. You take a moment of everyone readying for their arrival to Paradis to look up to the sky. You see the millions of stars lining the dark sky. You take in an intake of breath and embrace the cool air that has a hint of salt on it. You look forward and now glance at the dark horizon. Despite the lack of light, you embrace the sight of the ocean. If you were alone, you swear you could cry. You feel every rock of the wave, you feel cold bursts of water spraying periodically into the air. It was just like that night all those years ago. Except back then, you had been shrouded in your mother's warm embrace as she held you, escaping your deaths.
It was bittersweet. The dreams that you found out to be reality held so much more depth and darkness than you could have imagined. Yet, you long for the man you've waited to see for more than a year. One day [y/n], you'll understand. You'll meet a man you love so much you just can't let go. You think back to your mother's words to you that day she made it to the walls, only to die with the rising sun. Well, I've met him mother. You think to yourself. And I won't let him go, not ever again. Yelena looks at you discreetly and observes the nostalgic look you have on your face as you look at the dark ocean. She says nothing as the voice of the man in charge rings through the air. The ship stops, static in the water, as the first team of soldiers board a smaller boat, and we wait for them to go ashore.
.....
"Captain! The team that went ashore hasn't made contact for more than two hours!" You hear the voice of a Marleyan man in the distance talking to the man in charge. "Hmm. Prepare to send teams two and three." The man says to the soldier, a hint of urgency in his voice. "Yes, sir!" The voice of the same man replies. "The island of devils defeated the Warrior unit. Whatever the cost, Marley must learn what happened." You grit your teeth at the Captain's words but stay silent towards the back of the boat. But suddenly the boat starts to shake from under you. Your heart pounds in your chest as you quickly go to stabilise yourself watching as suddenly the ocean is not at eye level anymore.
You grab onto the railing tightly, watching as soldiers in front of you topple down the boat, some falling into the ocean, as the boat rises from the ocean into the sky. "Hang on!" You hear the voices of the soldiers scream out in agony and fear, but then you hear the Captain's voice confirm your suspicions. "I-It's a devil!" Sure enough, the familiar sight of Eren holds the massive boat up into the sky. You feel yourself smile slightly despite your current predicament; you were home. Eren's Titan takes long thunderous steps that cause your grip on the railings to tremble as he takes the boat to shore. Then suddenly you feel weightless as Eren carelessly drops the boat onto the body of sand below. You topple, landing harshly. Could’ve been a bit gentler Eren. You frown at your aching back before you sit up, you can't blame him really, he didn't even know you were there.
You quickly get up though, as you hear a familiar voice rise from a distance. "Hello, friends from Marley! Welcome to Paradis Island!" It's Hange. You feel your heart uplift but you force yourself to be patient, grabbing the gun fastened on your hip in preparation. "I'm Hange, here to greet our guests who've come so far across the sea! Now, step this way and join us for some tea! By the way, we're already friends with this guest that arrived before you! Isn't that right Nicolo!" You hear Hange's bright voice filling the air. They never change. You think to yourself as you slowly move out of the shadows and take a peek over the boat's railing. You see Hange in the distance next to a blond-haired man you recognise to be a Marleyan soldier, not on your side.
Then your eyes avert. It had been one year since you'd seen him, but even from a distance, you knew it was him. The raven locks, the unfaltering expression on his face. Levi. Your heart pounds, anticipation brimming inside of you, forcing yourself to calm down. "Captain! Forget about me and shoot these devils!" You hear the soldier held captive next to Hange yell out to you. "-What are you saying, Nicolo?!" Hange interrupts as you see their face change into one you could only describe as demonic as they get closer to Nicolo's face. "Captain!" The soldier continues to shout. "Nicolo! Understand this, you devils! Marely doesn't mingle with filthy blood!" The Captain of the ship yells out to Hange as you walk towards him readying your gun, trying to ignore the anger in your system.
The Captain aims his gun towards Hange, Nicolo and Levi, readying to shoot. "Go drink your pig piss with your filthy friends!" You hear the shout of Hange reach the air in exasperation. "Aww! Hey! You sure you wanna be rude to us?! Can't you see the Titan behind you?!" Sure enough, Eren's Titan remained silently looming over our vessel watching us carefully, steam bellowing from his large figure. "We'll never yield to you devils! Say hello to this!" The Captain refocuses his gun on Hange once more, readying to shoot, you see Yelena's hands twitch for her gun, but you're quicker. You raise your gun to the air whilst the other soldiers are distracted. Hange lets out a squeal as they look at the Captain with the weapon in his hand.
A lone gunshot pierces the air.
There is a deep silence. You watch as the Captain in front of you stumbles, before falling to the ground. Blood seeped through his head, as he looked blankly to nothing, steam flowing from the gun you held in your hand. "You should really be more polite to your hosts," You say darkly, as Yelena approaches from behind you, tension rising as your voice fills the air. Levi suddenly looks up at your form, heart pounding relentlessly at the familiar sound. "What's this?" A soldier yells to your left pointing a gun towards you, but Yelena points her gun at the man speaking calmly. "Drop your weapons." With that, more soldiers point their guns at you, but the disguised Anti-Marleyan volunteers come behind them returning the favour. You had the upper hand, the Marleyan soldiers held at gunpoint and outnumbered.
Yelena takes off the helmet she wore before turning to Hange, who is still frozen in the spot. "Hange, I'd be happy to accept your invitation." She says, looking at them, still silent. Everyone's eyes are focused on you however, as you also take your helmet off your head, not knowing why you suddenly feel so nervous. Your [h/c] hair spills from the helmet, your [e/c] eyes now visible, along with the angelic features they thought they would never see again. You look up, only to see that Hange and Levi look at you as though they had seen a ghost. "Let's have tea," Yelena shouts from next to you, as you look at the two of them, tears now brimming in your eyes. You were finally here, after so long.
"It's been a while, Hange... Levi."
_____
A/N: We're entering the final season! Thanks for reading <3
[Chapter Twenty-Five] <--> [Chapter Twenty-Seven]
Tags: @batboygirlie
#x reader#reader insert#fem reader#aot#levi x y/n#aot x reader#levi ackerman#levi aot#levi x reader#captain levi#aot levi#levi attack on titan#shingeki no kyojin#snk levi#aot x y/n#attack on titan#aot fanfiction#series#untiltheend#angst to fluff#fanfic#fanfiction#snk fanfiction#snk x reader#snk
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I want to be more
Summary: You work in a brothel in the early 1900s after WW1. You had few clients but just started having one regular. He was solider. You fall for him only after a few times of meeting. You soon wanted to be more than…whatever this is.
Warnings: Cussing, Reader is a woman, prostitution, smut mentioning throughout, alcohol consumption, signs of limerence, angsty ending
(this is barely proofread too)
A/N: This idea came to me out of nowhere..i’m so happy with it though. I had fun incorporating 1920s slang into this too. I think i have an idea for a part 2 but that might come later..
It was a cold winter day. Clients came in less when it was cold, not wanting to travel through the snow. Only the really, truly libidinous would come during these times. You enjoyed it. A break. But with breaks came no money being made.
The owner was generous enough to let you and a few others stay in your private rooms and live there. You’ve been here for 5 years now. A job is a job. It paid enough for you to scrape by. Not that you really enjoyed it.
You got used to it quick. At least, as used to it as you could. As one could. At first, you were a nervous, naiive olive, but now you’re a stronger, almost street smart woman. You knew how to handle yourself, how you should be treated. Men knew now to respect you. To not try and get out of paying or overstep boundaries.
You drank often to hide any pain. Forget any and all traumas. You always were tipsy if it could be helped when it was time to work. It made it…easier. Lighter.
The brothel itself was nice. Spacious. Luxurious. A blind tiger as most described it. Disguised as just a fancy bar for any authority figures who passed by.
You got paid well because of this by each client but really only ever made just enough for rent some food and maybe a dress or something else. You weren’t too popular to get many clients. Most men you had were Soldiers from the war. Occasionally, if you looked nice enough, an egg or wealthy man. Most of them were married. Older. Drunks, whether it was a secret or not.
You didn’t care for them. They didn’t care for you more. It was just business.
But there was one man who was different. One man who stood out to you. Who made you feel something other than a deep disgust.
His name was Logan Howlett.
He was young seeming, never telling his age. He just got back from the war. Obviously worn down by the trauma he possibly witnessed. Eyes told it all as well like many other soldiers. He always drank. Sometimes smoked a cigar. But always went right up to you.
At first, you almost refused him. He was dirty, and swaying around. He gave you a damp crumpled up $50 and mumbled about your hips and eyes. He smelled a bit too-
But then he pulled out another $50. You were convinced now. $100! was alot. You’d choke this encounter down too.
But he was surprisingly good. He didn’t just fuck you. No. He made love to you. He was soft. Gentle. You were almost taken aback. He treated you like glass. He actually even licked your core, something 90% of your clients ignored. Until you came 3 times you didn’t see his manhood.
He fell asleep next you, exhausted and sad. He was a sad drunk. He told you how he wanted to marry you, how he wanted to run away from everything with someone. Most men would confess things to you either before or after. But you ignored a lot because they were often drunk, like Logan.
Logan logan logan.
His first encounter with you left an impression.
A week passed and you still couldn’t get him off your mind. It was almost depressing. And just when you felt like he’d never return, he did.
He walked in, head down. Sat at the bar for an hour just drinking. And then he looked for you. You didn’t go up to him, just to see how long he’d look before he settled for another. But he never did. He keep looking. Looking and looking and walking and walking.
Then he saw you and walked up to you quickly. A hug. A drunken, messy hug and kiss.
“I never got your name, dear..” He whispered. He could barely stand.
Did you want him to have your real or work name?
“It’s y/n.” You said softly.
“y/n……… y/n…” Logan repeated slowly. “Beautiful li’you. Pretty girl…”
You could barely hear him. He had his hand in your lower back that horribly distracted you. A soft, “your mine” hold. Possessive. Different from other men.
You started to love the taste of whiskey just because you always tasted it on his lips. You started to love the faint scent on cigar on his hairy chest. Dog tags hitting you in the face has he thrusted into you. The way he held you like you’d get away. Treated you like you weren’t just a couple of wet holes but a human. A woman. Even drunk he was somewhat of a gentleman.
You wonder why he chose you. Why did ever go to you. Did he go to other brothels too? He seemed infatuated with you and you him.
You told the other women about him after the fifth time. They barely believed you. A bit of jealousy filled the air as they were rarely, if at all, treated so lovely. No, everyone was just holes. Just holes. Eye candy and holes.
The next time Logan came some women tried to climb on him. They offered him discounts. You almost wanted to fucking spit. He wasn’t yours though so why did you feel like this?
It made you damn near giddy as you watched him shoo them away like flies. Almost disgusted. Like he was some virgin waiting for marriage. Like it was almost rude for women to act like that despite where he was. The women huffed and walked away, some back to their rooms and others to other men. A couple have you a glance or so but said nothing.
You just waited for Logan to come back to you and touch you and treat you like you were more.
You felt spoiled.
He really acted like you two were going together. You began to wonder if he was courting you in some odd way.
Rumors started amongst the women who cared that you two were dating and you almost got put out. The number one rule was to never date your clients. Ever.
You assured he was just stuck on you or something and it wasn’t your fault. That he paid you the best. Out loud you say money, in your head you say attention.
He certainly becomes all you think about. Oh yes. Ohhh yes. You started noticing little details. His beard that was sometimes shaven. His hair. How it smelled. How it was the only soft thing on him. His nose. He once confessed he hated it but you loved it. He let you ride it once. Amazing experience.
And was such a sex magician. That’s how’d you describe him anyways. He was awfully skilled. You really wondered if he got practice before you. And how much?
You learned bits and pieces about him after sex. He’d lay there and talk about the war. Why he drank sometimes. How me missed his family. How he wished he was “normal”. Normal huh.
You never spoke much. You didn’t have anything but this. Your home life and childhood was rough, obviously leading you here. You had no special talents or dreams really. You recently has some interest with becoming one of those flapper women. But he was the first bit of true excitement you had in a while.
Logan stopped coming for a while. This time you were sure he wouldn’t return. The first week was horrible. You laid in bed like a rag doll as men used you, thinking about how Logan would at least butter you up before anything started. You mindlessly counted money as you wondered where Logan could be. You drank and drank to try and forget but he left such an impression on you it didn’t work.
The other women “comforted” you, but deep down we’re happy you were back to their level, with no special clients.
“You shouldn’t get so attached to the clients!”
“It was fun while it lasted huh now, sweets? Oh, i experienced the same thing.”
“An odd cat he was…maybe it’s for the best.”
You ignored it all. You didn’t care for any of that shit. Fuck it all. You just wanted him back.
Did he even care for you the way you did him? Would he even remember you? Did he? He was so drunk sometimes….you couldn’t tell if he cared at all. He remembered your name sure but that was it. You just couldn’t deny your feelings anymore.
These deep feelings.
Limerence.
There was passion that drove you crazy. You felt like you were going crazy.
Days blurred. Holidays passed. Men came and went. Take that both ways.
But this cold winter day, he returned. You were sitting on a stool, drinking again. It was just your 3rd.
You hear the door open and the little bell rang. Heavy footsteps. Leftover snow underneath crushing under boots. You turned around as you felt the presence behind you, getting ready to say your prices and hours assuming this man wanted your services.
However, you stopped mid breath as you turned and saw… “….Logan?”
He took his hat off and nodded. He quietly sat next to you and stared into your eyes. He was sober but had dark circles.
“I been busy you see..” He starts, his breath smells of straight cigar. “Th’s why i haven’t been around.”
You’re buzzed and you think you’re dreaming. You’re sure you look a mess right now.
“I missed you, Lo..” You whispered.
Logan looks away. He sighs. He says nothing for a long while. It worried you. Did you cross a boundary? Was it too far?
“That’s the issue, doll.”
Logan turns to look you in the eyes, brows furrowed. Your heart rate picks up but you felt a heartbeat elsewhere after the nickname came out his mouth. Doll..
“Wait-” You start but he puts a finger to your lips.
“You are a prostitute baby. I’m…a mess. A drunk vet. Addicted to giggle water. You don’t want me. It don’t make sense. We’ve gotten too deep into this. I come for a quick fuck and then back to reality as it should be. You don’t want this, pretty..”
You feel your heart break. You sober up a bit too.
“It don’t feel quick to me. You treat me like i’m human. You the only one.” Your voice cracks a bit. You are also a sad drunk most days so the alcohol was not helping you process this situation properly.
Logan has an unreadable look on his face. He shakes his head soon after and licks his lips. He’s thinking. Maybe you caught him off guard? The lobby was suddenly very quiet even though it’s been like that the whole time. Just you, Logan and the bartender. There was a woman in the corner but she was preoccupied with a man herself, paying no mind to you or Logan.
You want to puke.
“Logan-”
“Close your head, woman. You stuck on me or something?” He says a bit sharp.
You just nod biting your lip. Suddenly you’re drunk again. The room is spinning a bit and you couldn’t sit straight with a constant nagging to go hysterical.
“We can’t keep doing this. We just can’t.” He says not looking you in the eye anymore. “We can’t.”
“Oh, applesauce…why not?”
“Because we can’t. You listening? You must be zozzled. Listen to me, you don’t want this. I’m telling you.”
“But, i do want you. It’s all i want now. You’re all i want now. Please, Lo. Don’t leave me here.”
“Y/n…”
“I want to be more than this.” You spit out. Logan freezes. He almost looked scared for a second. A tear falls out your eye as Logan gets up swiftly after you say it.
“Goodbye, y/n.”
You say nothing. He hands you a $100 and tells you to buy something nice. You watch, sadly, as he goes out the door.
You swivel back around.
“I need everything this can buy please.” You hold up thr $100 to the bartender. He looks at you like you have two heads but starts getting many cups out.
You’re going to be drinking for days.
#logan howlett#wolverine#logan howlett x reader#wolverine angst#wolverine x reader#wolverine x you#brothel#post ww1#logan howlett angst#logan howlett smut#wolverine smut
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In my defense I was the target demographic when mlp came out
#huntlow#hunter toh#val art#willow park#the owl house#mlp#I like drawing horses more than anything else it’s probably the 14 years of experience#I’ve had a crack au in mind where when they get sent through the portal they end up in equestria instead#Luz is trying to be depressed but holy shit it’s twilight sparkle#also Amity being Hunters bestie and his number one hater is always my favorite#amity blight
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one more rant about my layoff in the tags and then i’ll shut up i promise
#my mom is telling me to apply for unemployment and i’m so overwhelmed even thinking abt it#the guy from payroll who so nicely told me about the layoff sent me a link for it like that’s the natural next step#but like i’m not planning on staying unemployed for more than like a week i’m planning on applying for another job in a few days#so i feel like it’s not even worth it but at the same time i do need money bc the timing of this was terrible#BUT idk if i’m even eligible for unemployment bc i have a second job#i’m on demand there so i only work like once every couple months but it’s still a job so i’m not technically unemployed yk#and i was going through the eligibility requirements online and i can’t find anything related to that one way or the other#i want to just say fuck it and not worry about it#but is that stupid bc i currently only have like one job in mind to apply for and i don’t even know if they’re hiring yet#i feel like i’m being dumb and picky bc i’m still in college so it’s not like it’s a career thing i just need a job for now#preferably retail bc that’s what i’ve always done and i’m extremely opposed to the idea of a serving job#anyway it shouldn’t really matter that much bc it’s gonna be temporary#but i’m not the type to change jobs often (i’ve only ever had 2 and they’re the one i got laid off from and the one i’m still on demand at)#so wherever i end up working i’m planning on staying for at least a couple years so i want it to be something i at least somewhat enjoy#it just sucks so much having to go through this whole process#bc i was planning on staying at this last job until i finished school and possibly longer#and now i don’t have that option bc they let me go with no warning and no explanation#and i loved that job so i’ve been extremely depressed ever since i got the call#which just makes the whole unemployment/applying for new jobs thing so much harder#and i wish i could stop whining about it but it’s literally all i can think about i’m just! so unhappy rn!#vent#lj.txt
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#MAYBE IN ANOTHER LIFE? [Gojo Satoru] part II
SUMMARY: Your boyfriend, who you loved more than anything, who was your will to live, broke up with you.
— C.W: ex-boyfriend! Gojo satoru x depressed! female reader , Geto Suguru x female reader , dark themes , no happy ending w gojo , no curses au.
— WORD COUNT: 5.1k+
— A/N: I was supposed to finish this next week but- oh well..I hope you like it.
PREV | NEXT
read part I for better understanding
It has been several months since your breakup with Gojo, and you find yourself still living with Geto. Despite the change in your relationship status, your bad habits are still there. However, there is a silver lining to this situation - you no longer struggle as much as you have, because you no longer have the burden of paying the bills due time.
At first, you felt guilty about letting Geto pay the financial responsibility alone. You insisted on contributing your fair share. However, Geto, being the persuasive individual he is, somehow managed to convince you otherwise. He made a compelling argument, suggesting that it would be wiser for you to save up the money you earn through your work. By doing so, you would have the means to purchase necessary items for yourself in the future.
But in return geto wanted you to go grocery shopping and cook meals for him. It became a daily routine for you to venture out and purchase the necessary ingredients. Despite the repetitive nature of this task, you never complained. After all, Geto had provided you with a roof over your head and so much more. It was your way of expressing gratitude and repaying him for his generosity.
Living with Geto turned out to be a pleasant experience. He was not only caring but also incredibly kind. Whenever you found yourself in the midst of a mental breakdown, he was there to offer support. His comforting presence was like a soothing balm for your troubled mind. He would hold you close, whispering words of reassurance and understanding into your ear, doing whatever it took to make you feel okay again.
One incident that truly showcased Geto's empathy and understanding was when you were cutting yourself in the bathroom. Instead of scolding you or telling you to stop, he patiently waited behind the closed door until you had calmed down. Only then would he enter, carefully addressing your wounds with a gentle touch. It was evident that he understood the pain of depression and the toll it took on one's well-being.
After all - he had once also experienced depression.
Today, as usual, you found yourself needing to go shopping for fresh ingredients. With a shopping bag in hand, you left the room and made your way to the door that led outside.
Before stepping out, you reached for the jacket hanging near the door. It was Geto's jacket. Although you had your own jacket, Geto insisted that you wear his to protect yourself from the cold. It was that time of year when snowflakes gracefully fell from the sky and the air had a biting chill to it.
At first, Geto had wanted to buy you a new jacket, but you kindly declined, not wanting him to spend any more money on you. Instead, he offered you the option of wearing his jacket.
And so, you found yourself slipping into his jacket, feeling a sense of warmth and comfort as you prepared to face the wintry weather outside.
You stepped outside, and were greeted by a winter wonderland. The world around you was transformed into a picturesque scene straight out of a postcard. The ground was blanketed in a pristine layer of snow, untouched by footprints. The trees stood tall and proud, their branches adorned with delicate icicles that shimmered in the soft sunlight. The air was crisp and invigorating, carrying with it the faint scent of pine and the promise of a magical day ahead.
As you made your way through the snowy landscape, you couldn’t help but marvel at the beauty that surrounded you. The snowflakes gently fell from the sky, dancing and twirling as they made their descent, creating a mesmerizing spectacle. Each flake was unique, with intricate patterns and delicate edges that seemed to defy the laws of nature.
The sound of your footsteps crunching in the snow echoed through the stillness, breaking the silence and adding a touch of life to the serene atmosphere. The cold air nipped at your cheeks.
The sight of children building snowmen and families engaged in friendly snowball fights filled your heart with a bittersweet mix of joy and longing. The laughter and playful shouts echoed through the air, creating an atmosphere of pure happiness. It reminded you of the times you had dreamt of a future with gojo, imagining what it would be like to have children of your own, to experience these simple joys as a family.
But reality hit you hard, like a cold gust of wind cutting through your thoughts. Gojo had moved on, finding happiness with someone else. It was a painful truth that you had to accept, even though it still stung deep within. The image of Gojo laughing and playing in the snow with that girl flashed in your mind, a reminder that he had chosen a different path, a different future.
You took a deep breath, pushing away the thoughts that threatened to dampen your spirits.
„Y/n?“ a voice spoke from behind. Your eyes widened as you saw him standing there, your ex, with his signature white hair, piercing sky blue eyes, and tall frame. It was Gojo, the person who had once held your heart in his hands.
He stood before you, his gaze scanning your form before settling on your face. The intensity of his stare made you feel both nervous and vulnerable. You instinctively took a step back, creating a physical distance between you. Gojo noticed your retreat and froze, his eyes narrowing as he tried to decipher your reaction. Your slightly closed eyes and the way you avoided his gaze spoke volumes, revealing the pain and longing that still lingered within you.
“Gojo…” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you nervously fidgeted with the collar of your jacket. The mention of his name caused Gojo’s eyes to drop, a mixture of guilt and regret washing over his features. He had always been used to being called by his first name, but hearing his last name from your lips felt like a painful reminder of the distance that now existed between you.
“How are you?” he asked, attempting to regain eye contact with you.
“I’m okay… I guess,” you replied, finally meeting his gaze. Gojo took a step forward, closing the physical gap between you. His hand gently rested on both of your shoulders, sending a wave of shivers down your spine. The touch was both familiar and foreign, stirring up a mix of emotions within you. You felt nervous, almost scared, unsure of how to navigate this unexpected encounter.
“Listen, I’m sorry for… you know… that we fired you from work. It was really not my intention,” Gojo apologized. You interrupted him, trying to downplay the significance of his actions.
“It’s fine, I forgive you,” you said, your voice lacking conviction. You tried your best to ignore the warmth of his hands on your shoulders, focusing on maintaining your composure. Gojo’s eyes widened as he observed your dropped gaze, uncertain if you were truly okay with what had transpired.
“What?” he asked again, his fingers tightening around your shoulders. That’s when he noticed your jacket, a sense of familiarity washing over him. His fingers instinctively moved to the back of your neck, pulling down the collar to read the name written there.
Geto Suguru.
His best friend’s name was emblazoned on the collar of the jacket you were wearing. It suddenly dawned on him that this was not your jacket, but Geto’s. The scent of Geto’s cologne lingered faintly, intertwining with your own. Gojo’s eyebrows furrowed as a whirlwind of thoughts flooded his mind. Was this some sort of revenge? Did you pursue Geto to get back at him, to gain his attention? How did Geto even know about your breakup, despite Gojo never mentioning it to him?
He never expected you to move on so quickly. He knew you had your fair share of struggles, and he had always been the one to bring light into your life. He had believed that you would do anything for him. But the realization that you had seemingly moved on so swiftly ignited a pang of jealousy within him. He had a girlfriend now, he shouldn’t feel this way. His girlfriend was better for him than you, but the sight of you wearing Geto’s jacket still managed to stir something deep within him.
The way you shivered under his touch made him quickly withdraw his hands. “I said it’s okay, I forgive you,” you mumbled, your voice barely audible.
“So, you and Suguru?” he asked, ignoring your response. You raised an eyebrow, ready to answer his question, but before you could speak, your phone began to ring. You quickly retrieved it from your pocket, glancing at the caller ID.
Suguru.
Gojo awkwardly stood there, his gaze shifting between you and the phone in your hand. He couldn’t help but notice that the phone you were holding was different from the one he had once bought you. The mark on the phone indicated that it was a cheaper model, a flip phone, unlike the expensive one he had gifted you. Confusion washed over him as he wondered why you would exchange a high-end phone for a cheaper alternative.
Little did he know that you had sold the phone he had given you out of necessity. You had run out of money and needed to pay the bills for the motel you were staying in. Desperate times had forced you to part with the precious gift, opting for a more affordable option.
After answering the call, you quickly excused yourself, explaining that you needed to go buy groceries. However, before you could make your way out, Gojo reached out and gently grabbed your arm, in which you hissed.
"Wait," he said, "Are you and Suguru dating?" His question hung in the air, his eyes searching yours for any hint of confirmation or denial.
You took a deep breath, trying to find the right words to explain the situation. "No, Gojo," you replied, your voice soft but firm. "I just live with him. We're roommates."
Gojo's grip on your arm loosened slightly, his expression shifting from confusion to relief. The relief was evident in his eyes, as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.
"I see," he said, "I'm glad to hear that." There was a brief pause between the two of you as you tried to progress what he just said.
Why would Gojo be glad to hear that you and Geto weren't dating? As you tried to process his reaction, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a key, extending it towards you.
"Uh, since you live with Suguru, it must be bothersome for you," he stammered, struggling to find the right words. "Take this apartment key. It's for you, as an apology for getting you fired."
You hesitated, unsure of what to do. You didn't want anything from Gojo, especially not as a form of apology. "I'm fine being with Suguru. I don't need this key," you replied, pressing it back into his chest. You turned around, ready to walk away and put this painful encounter behind you.
But before you could take another step, Gojo's voice called out, desperation lacing his words. "Wait, please take it!" His hand shot out and grabbed your wrist, causing you to flinch. The pain from the cuts on your arms intensified, and tears welled up in your eyes.
You quickly shrugged off his hand, wanting to escape the physical pain. As you looked up at Gojo, you saw his eyes downcast, filled with remorse. It hurt to see him like this, knowing that you still hadn't fully moved on from him. You wanted him to be happy, to see him smile, but it seemed like that was a distant dream.
"Okay, I'll take it. Thank you," you whispered, your voice barely audible. You reached out and took the key from his hand. With a heavy heart, you turned away from him, determined to focus on the task at hand. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go buy groceries."
"Right, uh... have a good day, Y/n!" Gojo called after you. Your heart pounded in your chest as you walked away,
—
"Suguru, I'm home," you called out, stepping into his house and slipping off your shoes and jacket. The familiar scent of Suguru's home enveloped you as you made your way to the living room, where Geto was lounging on the sofa, engrossed in a TV show.
"Welcome back," he greeted, turning his head to meet your gaze with a warm smile.
"I have some news," you announced, making your way to the kitchen to unload the groceries. Geto followed you, his curiosity piqued, and settled on a chair at the kitchen island, facing you.
As you began to unpack the grocery bag, placing items into the fridge, you tossed a bag of chips to Geto. He caught it effortlessly, his eyes lighting up with gratitude as he opened the bag and popped a chip into his mouth.
"So, what's the news?" he asked, his voice muffled by the chips.
"Well," you started, carefully choosing your words, "I found an apartment." You decided not to mention that it was Gojo who had bought it for you. The thought of Gojo's gesture still stirred up conflicting emotions within you.
Geto's eyebrows raised,"Where is it?"
You continued to organize the groceries, avoiding eye contact as you replied, "It's not too far from here, and it‘s quite big too, so if you want you can move in with me. You know, it‘s really nice to finally have someone who cares for me other than satoru.." you trailed off.
You mustered the courage to look back at Geto's face, and your heart skipped a beat at the wide-open eyes staring back at you. "You want me to move in with you...?" he asked,
"Yeah... I'm afraid I got attached to you... sorry," you muttered, your hands finding their way onto the counter as you looked down, unable to meet his gaze.
Geto was taken aback by your confession. He had always known about your deep love for Satoru, as you would often seek solace in his room after a nightmare, finding comfort in his presence. In those vulnerable moments, you would whisper Satoru's name as you fell asleep, leaving Geto to silently bear the weight of unrequited love.
From the moment he first laid eyes on you, fate seemed to have decided that he would fall in love with you. But to his surprise, you were already dating his best friend when you first crossed paths. He had initially dismissed you as one of Satoru's chicks, assuming that you would be discarded after a short while. But it turned out that your relationship with Satoru was serious, and his heart couldn't help but ache with jealousy.
He couldn't help but steal glances at the way you looked at Satoru, the admiration in your eyes and the way your lips curved into a smile whenever he was around. It made him envious, but he knew he had no right to feel that way towards his best friend. So he buried his own feelings and pretended to like you only as a friend, even though his heart yearned for more.
As time went on, Geto began to notice a change in Satoru's behavior. The manwhore tendencies he had abandoned when you and he started dating seemed to resurface. It was as if he had grown tired of the commitment and started seeking the attention of other women right in front of Geto's eyes.
The pain of witnessing Satoru's infidelity gnawed at Geto's heart. He wanted to protect you, to tell you about Satoru's behaviour, but he couldn't bear the thought of hurting you with those words. He knew how deeply attached you were to Satoru, how you would forgive him for every transgression, even something as devastating as cheating. You simply couldn't let him go.
Until one day, the inevitable happened. The two of you broke up.
The news hit Geto like a punch to the gut. On one hand, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of relief that you were no longer tied to Satoru's unfaithfulness. But on the other hand, he knew that your heart would be shattered, and he couldn't bear the thought of seeing you in pain.
You stood there in the kitchen, glare dropped as you mentioned your ex‘s name. Geto's heart ached for you. He wanted to offer comfort, to hold you close and assure you that everything would be okay. But he knew that the wounds were fresh, and he would have to tread carefully, waiting for the right moment to reveal his own feelings.
For now, all he could do was be there for you, offering a shoulder to lean on and a listening ear.
„Sure..I can move in with you if that‘s what you would like.“ he spoke, forcing a smile.
Your eyes immediately lightened up as you heard his words,“really?“ you asked.
Geto nodded, his smile growing wider as he saw the genuine happiness radiating from your face. "Yes, really," he replied,“I want to be there for you, to support you and care for you in ways that Satoru couldn't."
A wave of gratitude washed over you as you realized the depth of Geto's commitment. It was a stark contrast to the fleeting affection you had experienced with Satoru. You had always yearned for someone who would truly see you, who would cherish and prioritize your happiness above all else. And now, standing before you, was Geto, offering you just that.
A mixture of emotions swirled within you - excitement, relief, and a tinge of sadness for the end of your relationship with Satoru. You took a step closer to Geto, your eyes locked with his, as you whispered, "Thank you. Thank you for being here for me."
Geto's smile softened,"You don't have to thank me," he replied gently.
-
No.
No.
No. No. No..
What is this?
This is not what Gojo expected when he entered his apartment after being away for a week. The first thing he heard were moans coming from his and his girlfriend's bedroom, and immediately he made his way there to investigate. What he saw was something he never could have imagined. His girlfriend, completely naked, was on top of someone else, riding them on their shared bed where they used to make love. It was a scene that shattered his heart and left him feeling betrayed.
She was cheating on him.
Gojo stood frozen by the door, his eyes wide with shock, his eyebrows furrowed in disbelief, and his once joyful smile replaced by a look of pain.
As he looked at the girl who had been his girlfriend just moments ago, Gojo couldn't help but draw parallels between her and you. The guilt he had felt then was nothing compared to the remorse that now gnawed at his soul.
In that moment, he couldn't fully comprehend the impact of his actions, but now, as he stood in that bedroom, he felt the weight of his betrayal crashing down upon him.
Gojo's gaze shifted from his ex-girlfriend to the guy who had been underneath her. A surge of jealousy and insecurity coursed through him, as he couldn't help but compare himself to this unknown person. Who was he? What did he possess that Gojo lacked? The comparison was inevitable, and it only added fuel to the fire of pain that already consumed him. Doubts gnawed at his mind, questioning his worthiness and wondering if he had failed to measure up, if he had been inadequate in some way.
The room felt suffocating. Gojo's heart pounded in his chest, each beat a painful reminder of the shattered love and trust that lay in ruins.
Gojo stormed into the bedroom, his anger and hurt fueling his every step. The force with which he swung the door open was a reflection of the turmoil raging within him, a physical manifestation of the chaos that had erupted in his life. His eyes, filled with a mix of desperation and fury, locked onto the figure lying beneath his now ex-girlfriend.
"Satoru, wait!" the girl cried out, her voice laced with panic and fear, as she was pushed away from the person beneath her. But Gojo was beyond reason, consumed by a maelstrom of emotions that drowned out any pleas for mercy.
Gojo lunged forward, his hand shooting out to seize a handful of her hair. The pain of his grip was a stark contrast to the tenderness he had once shown her, a cruel reminder of the power he held over her in that moment. Their eyes locked, and in that intense gaze, he saw her pupils constrict, a sign of both fear and resignation. Her lower lip quivered, a silent plea for him to release her from his grasp.
But Gojo was deaf to her pleas, his grip on her hair only tightening as she desperately tried to free herself. The sound of her voice, trembling with vulnerability, fell upon deaf ears as he murmured a single word, "Why..." His voice was filled with a mix of confusion and betrayal, unmoved by the smaller hands that desperately attempted to pry his hold loose.
And then, like a dagger to his heart, she uttered the words that shattered his world. "I'm sorry! I found someone else—I love him... please, let go!" Her voice trembled with a mixture of guilt and desperation, her words echoing in the air like a painful confession.
The weight of those words crashed into Gojo's consciousness like a tidal wave, the impact reverberating through his entire being. Found someone else...? The realization hit him with a force that stole the breath from his lungs. These were the same words he had once spoken to you, the words that had torn your world apart.
As if struck by lightning, Gojo released his grip on her hair, his hand falling limply to his side. He stepped back, his eyes filled with a mix of shock and disbelief. The girl, now free from his hold, collapsed onto the bed, her body crumpling under the weight of the emotional turmoil that had unfolded before her.
Was this the same anguish you had felt when he had confessed he had found someone else? Did he truly forsake someone as remarkable as you for this girl? The weight of his actions settled heavily upon his shoulders, a burden he could no longer ignore.
As he turned away from the girl and the person she had been with, Gojo's mind became a whirlwind of regrets and what-ifs. Memories of your time together flashed before his eyes, each one a painful reminder of what he had lost. The pain of his own betrayal and the pain he had inflicted upon you mingled within him, creating a storm of guilt and remorse.
Gojo found himself in the living room, his body sinking into the couch as he attempted to make sense of it all. The weight of betrayal pressed upon him, threatening to crush him beneath its burden. It was as if his entire world had crumbled in an instant, leaving him feeling adrift and broken.
His mind was swirling with regrets and unanswered questions, he couldn't help but wonder if there was any way to mend what had been irreparably broken. Could he ever earn back your trust? Could he ever make amends for the pain he had caused? The questions plagued his thoughts, but the answers remained elusive.
With a heavy heart weighing him down, Gojo rose from the comfort of the couch and made his way towards the front door. The weight of his emotions pushed him to leave, to escape the haunting memories that seemed to linger within the walls of the apartment. His mind was consumed by a single thought - he needed to find you, to apologize before it was too late. Perhaps, just maybe, you would find it in your heart to forgive him.
However, little did Gojo know that time was not on his side. As he hurriedly made his way to the apartment he had given you, a place that was meant to be his girlfriend’s sanctuary, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief that he had entrusted you with the key instead. The thought of seeing you again, of having the chance to make things right, gave him a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness that surrounded him.
Arriving at the apartment, Gojo rushed up the stairs, his mind filled with a whirlwind of thoughts about what he would say when he finally saw you. His hand instinctively reached into his pocket, grasping onto the spare keys that he had kept for emergencies. With a mix of anticipation and anxiety, he approached the door that was supposed to lead him to you. Taking a deep breath, he inserted the key into the lock, turning it slowly and opening the door.
However, instead of being greeted by an empty room, Gojo found himself standing in the midst of a completely transformed space. The apartment had undergone a complete renovation, a stark contrast to the memories he had held onto. But amidst the unfamiliar surroundings, his eyes were drawn to something that instantly caught his attention - clothes scattered across the floor. A shirt, two pairs of pants, and a bra lay haphazardly, creating a puzzle that Gojo couldn’t help but try to piece together.
Confusion furrowed his brow as he pondered the presence of the bra on the floor. If there was no sound of moaning or clapping, then it meant that you didn’t have anyone over, right? But the pants… they were definitely not yours. They were too wide, too different from your usual style. Gojo’s gaze swept the room, searching for answers, before he made his way through the apartment, his steps guided by an unexplainable instinct.
He stopped in front of a closed door, hesitating for a moment before gently pushing it open, revealing a sight that shattered his heart into a million pieces. His eyes widened in disbelief as they landed on Geto, his best friend, lying in bed with you cradled in his arms. The sight of Geto’s upper body, partially exposed, showcased his muscular chest and abs, while your figure rested against him, your shoulders and neck adorned with small, telltale bruises. Both of you were fast asleep, blissfully unaware of the presence of another person standing by the door.
A mixture of shock, betrayal, and anger coursed through Gojo’s veins as he tried to comprehend what he was witnessing. Why was Geto here? He had always been aware of Geto’s secret crush on you, but he had never expected his best friend to make a move, especially not with you. The pain in Gojo’s heart intensified as he saw you, the person he believed to be his and his alone, in someone else’s arms, covered in another person’s kisses and bruises.
Gojo stood there, his heart heavy with disbelief and heartbreak. Tears welled up in his eyes, threatening to spill over. Was it too late? Was there no way to fix what he had done?
Suddenly, a voice broke through his thoughts, bringing him back to reality. It was his best friend, looking at him with a mix of concern and frustration. Gojo's eyes met his, and he could see the unspoken question in them.
"You gonna continue staring or what?" his best friend asked, his tone slightly teasing.
Gojo's emotions surged, and he couldn't hold back the words any longer. "You did it on purpose, didn't you? You waited for the moment she was vulnerable so you could swoop in and be her hero. All in the hope of leading her into bed."
His fists clenched, and he wiped away the tears with the back of his sleeve. His best friend remained calm, his gaze steady. "I'm merely doing what you couldn't. I'm here for her, offering support and care in ways you never could, Satoru."
Gojo's anger flared, and he shouted, "What do you mean?!" But his best friend cut him off, his voice firm but gentle.
"Don't shout, she's had a tough night and deserves some rest," he said, covering you with a blanket.
"You act like you're some kind of savior. What gives you the right to step in and play hero in her life?"
His best friend sighed, meeting Gojo's gaze with unwavering resolve. "I'm doing it because she deserves genuine care and someone who will love her just the way she does."
Gojo's eyes widened, his mouth falling open in disbelief. "I love her just the way she does!"
"If you did," his best friend calmly replied, "you wouldn't have cheated on her multiple times and then left her for someone else."
The accusation hung heavily in the air, shattering any pretense of composure between the two friends. Gojo felt the weight of his best friend's words, realizing the depth of the hurt he had caused. The room seemed to echo with the fractured friendship and the complex emotions entangled in this unexpected confrontation.
"I never wanted things to turn out like this," Gojo confessed, his voice filled with regret. "What do you expect me to do now?"
His best friend's gaze hardened, his voice firm. "Face the consequences of your actions, Satoru. But understand this: she doesn't want anything to do with you now. Give up and let her find the happiness she deserves elsewhere."
A heavy silence fell over the room. Gojo struggled to find a response, a knot forming in his stomach. His best friend continued, his voice softer this time.
"She moved on, Satoru," he said, his eyes filled with a mix of empathy and deception. "You broke her trust, and she's found someone who treats her with the respect and love she deserves. Don't complicate her life any further."
Gojo's jaw clenched, his hands balling into fists as the realization hit him. The person beneath the blanket, blissfully unaware of the turmoil surrounding them, remained a symbol of the consequences of his actions.
"I messed up, I know that," Gojo admitted, his voice filled with remorse. "But I can't just give up on her."
His best friend's expression hardened. "Giving up isn't about abandoning her; it's about respecting her choices. She doesn't want you in her life anymore. Accept that and move forward."
"You had your chance, Satoru. Now it's time to let her go," his best friend said, his voice filled with finality.
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#[♡’���𝐌𝐀𝐘𝐁𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒。•́]#jujutsu kaisen#gojo satoru#gojo x reader#gojo x y/n#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#satoru gojo#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x you#gojou satoru x reader#jujutsu gojo#gojo angst#suguru geto smut#geto suguru x reader#jujutsu geto#geto x you#getou suguru x reader#jjk gojo#gojou x reader#gojo saturo#geto suguru#suguru geto#geto x reader#jujutsu kaisen suguru#jjk satoru#jujutsu kaisen satoru#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#[♡’—𝐟𝐯𝐬𝐦𝟒𝐱‘𝐬 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬。•́]
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Redyed my hair (a slightly deeper pink shade but basically the same) and now I’m laying in bed thinking about all the ways I’ve changed who I am and what I believe over the years and I don’t recognize who I was when I was young but I sympathize with them even more than I ever thought I could I just don’t think of those pictures of me as actually being me because my mind has always been this and I’m sure years from now I won’t recognize myself now because obviously my mind has always been whoever I am then
#idk something about your mind maturing when you aren’t paying attention and then suddenly you feel like you’re twelve again from some stupid#memory and you’re struggling to even remember what it felt like to be in those shoes and you don’t know how much is repressing trauma and#how much is you smoking weed constantly and how much is you being depressed and so suicidal and mentally ill in your early teens that you#didn’t even bother to attempt to make memories so now anything you do remember drags you back to the worst depression of your life and you#forgot how bad it was until someone else brings it up and suddenly you’re that kid crying and hurting yourself and begging anyone to care#and being abandoned and laughed at and you feel like it will never end and then you open you’re eyes and it hasn’t been that way in years#and you’d struggle to even believe yourself because everyone else ignores the way they treated you growing up so now yoh internalize it and#assume you’re just crazy for these memories you have cause surely your family didn’t laugh at you sobbing surely they didn’t bandage your#self harm wounds and then sit you at the table and scream at you about homework and then your mother talks about her therapist and suddenly#having someone in her life to put your adhd in perspective and she realizes that maybe there were reasons you were struggling other than#being lazy but she never apologized she still doesn’t apologize and you don’t bring it up you don’t tell her you remember but the silence#between you is deafening and you can both tell you’re forgetting something and you don’t know what the other person doesn’t know#haha yeah anyways#my mothers therapy is going good and she’s finally realizing that her kid and her husband had very similar adhd patterns that affected their#entire lives and we’re not as visible and her sons adhd patterns where he was more hyperactive#like I’m happy she’s learning to deal with all this shit but now that she’s in therapy and talking about all these things with me growing up#while somehow not at all talking about all the bad shit it makes me feel like she doesn’t even know she did anything wrong and I don’t want#her to feel worse about it rn cause there’s nothing she can do and we’ve moved past it but like I still can’t cry in front of people without#this deep pit of self hatred and thinking someone’s going to laugh at me when I show real emotions so I keep it all inside until I explode#but yeah at least she feels better about herself now#like legit I am happy for her and I don’t want to make her therapy about me but like god damn woman just admit anything you did and apologiz#so I know that you know it wasn’t the right thing to do#acknowledge that you hurt and scarred me so I won’t feel so fucking crazy all the time#I got kind of poetry ish in the middle there but I went back to being bitchy ranty soon enough so now I’m gonna go smoke real weed and try#to sleep without thinking thoughts or using my brain for anything other than bodily functions
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[The Ideal Gaze]
lab tester: @ichigosluvrr 🩻
pairing: DadBod!Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader
summary: Miguel is feeling a bit out of your league, so you remind him that he’s just in your lane.
content warning: established relationship (they’re married with kids!), domestic fluff, mild hurt/comfort due to Miguel being an idiot that does not understand The Female Gaze, some miscommunication between reader and Miguel, 18+ so MDNI, a little raunchier than I intended tbh but hopefully I presented DB!Mig well, body worship, heated tension, reader is like obsessed with Miguel’s new Dad Bod, deepthroat 😗, missionary position, unprotected p in v sex (WRAP IT UP 🫵🏾), the word Ma as a term of endearment from Miguel to reader two times
word count: 5.3k, halfway proofread
a/n: Fulfilling this first because this was technically my first request! I added a few more elements (thank you Miguel server!), so I hope you don’t mind. There were no specific requests other than fluff and smut, so I went with the flow. I hope you enjoy! (Also, I found the original artist's post here!! Go give them some love!)
Your blood is pumping as you round the corner, only a few more steps until you reach the driveway.
The jog today was pretty refreshing. There were no calls from work asking about things that could wait until 8 AM, no toddler fussing about waking up, and no child whining about getting homework done. It was just you, your FitBit, your steamy audiobook, and the lingering thoughts of meeting your husband’s eyes this morning. Lately, it’s been like a little game to rile him up.
You’ve been married for a few years and a family of four for seven years with a sweet little girl, a second grader with the attitude of an old lady, and a precious little boy, a preschooler with keen intuition. With your lives being consumed with work and taking care of the kids, you feel like your relationship has been put on the back burner. Long gone were the days in which you two made love at the drop of a hat, fucking on anything that could hold you. Now, you were lucky enough to get a little dry humping.
It was getting depressing, and more annoyingly, frustrating, so you started to put your riled-up energy elsewhere. You were up at the crack of dawn making everyone’s lunches and going on occasional jogs, you were using your PTO for brunches with the girls and spa days, you had regular pilates classes, the real pilates, and most importantly, you were finding small pockets of time for yourself.
From buying yourself small gifts to filling your Kindle with romance books to pleasuring yourself on the nights Miguel worked overtime. You were sure to keep yourself busy. All of that, and you still couldn’t get the thought of Miguel entangled with you out of your head.
You heaved out as you stopped at the end of the driveway, taking a few breaths to calm your state. The book you were listening to was on a particularly enthralling scene and you wondered if it was something that Miguel would be interested in trying.
You looked down at yourself and decided to unzip the top of your athletic jacket, letting the tightness of your bra and the fabric push your cleavage up. One smooth swipe of your clothes and you were walking to the front door.
It was 6:40 AM, so there was plenty of time to have a little quiet moment with your husband.
You walked into the kitchen and saw him standing in all of his glory. A newspaper in his left hand, because some things didn’t need to be digitized, a “Best Papá Ever” mug in his right hand, black glasses on his face, and your favorite thing, a naked plush torso on display.
In the first years of parenthood, his metabolism was through the roof. Despite him joining you for every snack, meal, and midnight dessert, he never lost that tiny little waist or those washboard abs. It wasn’t until your youngest was born and babbling that his appearance started to change. His arms became a mix of muscle and cellulite, his thighs were softer than ever, his chest was full and plump, and his waist widened gifting you with his soft belly and a happy trail that continued to his belly button.
The early time didn’t stop the coil of neediness in your stomach from forming.
“Good morning, hubby,” you say with a lilt to your voice. You walked closer to him, an extra bounce in your step, and leaned on the island.
Sure enough, Miguel was peeking at your chest from over his glasses, mug hovering over his lips.
You only smiled coyly, waiting for his response.
“Good morning. How was your jog?” he puts the newspaper and mug down, folding his arms under his chest.
You stared at his bulging arms, pressed-up pecs, and his tummy that moved with him and almost whined.
“It was really good. Super nice and refreshing. Maybe a little warm,” you crossed your legs, impatient. “How’s your morning so far?”
“It’s better,” he says, making the short distance to crowd your space. He leans over you, hands going to the island. “My wife is here now.”
You smile at his words, hands itching to touch him but not wanting to ruin the stride. Instead, you look up at him and pan his lips.
“I’m feeling better, too,” you whisper, waiting.
Miguel leans forward to press his lips onto yours, the smell of coffee hitting your senses. You feel little fireworks go off as he starts to open your mouth. Everything felt just right in this moment.
When his hand slid across your back, you almost jumped up to wrap your legs around him. You tilted your head and wrapped your arms around his neck. You could feel yourself slipping against the counter, but Miguel was right there to steady you.
For what felt like hours to you after so long of a heated connection, the two of you made out on the kitchen island. Only some birds chirping, the occasional car passing by, and the hum of the washing machine could be heard next to the sound of you both breathing into each other’s lips
“Come with me to the shower?” you say, eyes heavy and pleading.
You could feel Miguel tense up, back rigid as he moved back.
“I better stay. Raul might wake up soon and he was having a hard time sleeping last night.”
Your heart dropped at the rejection. You were hoping that this would be the one, the moment that you’ve been anticipating for months. Some form of sexual connection.
“Ok. I’ll be out soon,” you turn and go to the master bathroom, tugging the zipper down hastily. You felt a bit dejected and embarrassed, but you’re trying to let it go. Your mommy side knows that your youngest woke up in distress last night so it makes perfect sense that Miguel wants to be alert for his cries, but your wife side wants her husband back and can’t help but feel like he didn’t want you.
With this brisk shower, you hoped this self-doubt and neediness washed away with it.
You tapped your fingers against the desk, staring off at your computer. Work today was slow, which you didn’t mind because that meant you could frequent your watchlist, but your mind kept wandering off while watching some random K-drama.
Last night, you woke up to what sounded like Miguel getting off in the bathroom.
He got off work super late that day, so you took the initiative to get the kids to bed and go to bed early.
What you didn’t expect was to wake up to the sound of his grunts coming through the bathroom door.
At first, you were a little hurt that he didn’t wake you up to help him out, but then you were so overcome by the sound of him whimpering and moaning that you couldn’t help but pleasure yourself.
He sounded so desperate and wanton, cursing every once in a while. You bit your lip as you imagined him right next to you, voice right in your ear. You wanted his weight on you. You wanted to feel his skin against yours.
You lay in the empty bed rubbing yourself until you came, his noises stopping a while before you finished. You were hoping he would come out and see you so you prolong your orgasm to no avail, sleep coming to claim you before he did.
When you tried to ask him about it in the morning, he kept avoiding your eyes, saying something about his stomach giving him the blues.
You let it go then, but that didn’t stop you from thinking about it all day.
In a spur-of-the-moment decision, you decide to text him a flirty message, running to the bathroom to take a picture to match. You waited a little bit, hoping that he could take at least a peek.
“You look gorgeous, honey.”
Just gorgeous? Not hot? Not good enough to make him want more?
You scrunched your mouth to the side, asking if he could send a picture back.
“Baby, you know I can’t. I’m at work right now.”
You huffed at that. You knew he was just in his lab by himself. There was plenty of time and solitude to take a picture. He used to send random pictures of himself all of the time.
For the rest of the day, you were irritated, feeling slighted at the hands of your husband.
You took a break from trying to seduce your husband, tired of the pushback. You put your all into taking care of the kids and maintaining the house when you could.
“And how many sticks does that leave Cassie with?” you asked Gabriella. You both were at the dining table with her math homework sprawled everywhere while dinner was in the oven.
“27!” she shouted, voice becoming more confident over the course of the math sheet.
“Correct! You’re knocking ‘em out, girl!”
“Buen trabajo, mija,” Miguel said with vigor as he came by to kiss the top of her head. “You’re doing so well.” (Good job, mija.)
“Does this mean I can get a cookie?” she asked, quick to melt her father’s heart.
“Not before dinner, Gabriella, you know this,” Miguel bounced Raul in his arms, a little fussy and sniffly.
“Please, papá!” she looked up at him with big brown eyes and a pout.
Miguel sighed, unable to say no to her 9 times out of 10.
He looked at you frantically, watching you snickering behind your hands, “You have to ask Mamá.”
Whenever he really wanted to say no, he used you as a trump card.
Gabriella’s shoulders drop as she turns to you, already knowing the drill.
“The answer is no. You can wait until after dinner,” you say, squeezing her cheek.
“You always say no,” Gabriella whines dramatically, slumping in her seat with her arms crossed, pout just like her dad’s.
“And you can always go to bed with no cookies,” you chide as you get up to go check on dinner. “Now go put your homework up and wash your hands, dinner is almost ready.”
She puts her papers back in her folder with the theatrics of a Broadway actor, sighing dramatically with each step she took to her room.
Miguel laughed at her actions watching her leave, “She’s just like her Mami when she gets like that. Fussy.”
You pause to put your hand on your hip, “No, she’s just like her Father when she can’t get her way. Whiny.” You open the oven and pull the lasagna out to the stove to cool a bit.
“Well, I can’t say no to her just like I can’t say no to you,” he says, placing Raul at the table with a hand running over his soft hair. “You both have the same puppy-dog eyes.”
“You like leaving the hard parenting to me.”
“That is not true. I just tussled with a four-year-old to get him to take his cold medicine and made a promise of not one, but two bedtime stories,” he says, coming up behind you as you reached to get the dishes. He got them down for you instead, hand on your hips and stomach pressed against your back.
You bite your tongue in order not to will your negligent, horny brain from awakening. You didn’t have time for those thoughts, little feet were near, and every advance you gave him ended in failure.
“Is he doing ok?” you say, referring to Raul he sat at the table with his head down, a teddy bear hugged against him as he pitifully moved his toy car back and forth. It was definitely a big shift from his usual talkative demeanor.
“We might have to go to the doctor again. His allergies are really acting up.”
You leave Miguel’s side to go squat down by Raul, “How are you feeling, sweetheart?”
You rubbed his back, trying to see if he felt warmer than usual and sure enough, he was burning up.
“My throat hurts, Mama,” he said, little voice just about gone.
“Oh, I know, my sweet baby,” you say with a soft voice. “Do you want me to make you some alphabet soup?”
Raul’s face twists up, lip a little wobbly, “But I want some cheese noodles.”
“Hey, it’s ok!. You can have some lasagna. I just want your throat to feel better. Hot things will make it feel better.”
“The cheese noodles are hot, too.”
You smiled, “That’s right, the cheese noodles are hot, but I mean a hot liquid.”
He stayed quiet for a moment, hands squeezing his teddy bear as he thought, “Can I have hot chocolate?”
“Of course you can. Can I give you a kiss?”
He nods his head slowly and you lean over to kiss his head. You needed to get him under the covers soon. Before you could pull away, he wrapped his arms around your neck, snuggling up to be held. You couldn’t resist holding your baby, especially when you couldn’t take his pain away.
You get up to see Miguel helping Gabriella plate the slices of lasagna on each plate and setting up the side salad. Your heart filled with joy watching them giggle over the stretchy cheese. It was moments like this that reminded you that you were taking the right steps, that this was the perfect little life.
As they set up the table with the plates and drinks, you kept Raul in your arms, ready to help him with tonight's dinner.
“Thank you for the food, Mommy,” Gabriella said with a toothy smile.
“You’re welcome, baby,” you say, cutting Raul’s food up even smaller, not wanting him to struggle any more than he had to tonight.
The table was quiet, save for Gabriella and Miguel smacking their food occasionally and Raul’s wheezy breaths.
By the time dinner was over, Gabriella was buzzing in her seat for cookies, and Raul was close to falling asleep in your arms.
You couldn’t ask for anything better.
With Raul sound asleep, Gabriella tucked in bed, and Miguel watching cable, you had a moment to yourself to think.
Did today’s small touches mean anything?
You stood in the bathroom moisturizing your skin after a hot bath. You said you were going to stop trying to fish for your husband’s attention, but if you were honest, today’s brief moment of connection did it for you. You couldn’t stop your thoughts once you were alone.
You decide to wear just a pair of panties and one of his old t-shirts to bed: a look that wasn’t trying too hard to get his attention, but you’re sure he’s going to notice it.
You sat on the bed and decided to read until he came into the room. You hope you were giving a sexy girlfriend vibe. Your skin was all smooth, you smelled good, and you knew you looked good.
When Miguel walks in, he pauses at the door to stare at you.
“Why are you looking at me like that? Come to bed,” you say.
Hook, line, and sinker.
Miguel shuffled over, eyeing you from head to toe. He looked delicious in his tank top, fabric stretched in the best possible ways.
He crawled on the bed next to you, “My band t-shirt?”
“Yeah! It’s comfy.”
He rubbed his hand up your naked thigh and your nerves started to sing. Any further up, and you might just wet your panties from his touch alone. You missed it so much.
He leaned over to kiss the juncture your neck and shoulder, your neck, your cheek, and then he stopped.
He just…stopped.
“Well, I gotta go in earlier tomorrow, so I’m going to sleep early. Is it ok if I turn this light off?
You felt your throat dry up, “Yeah, ok.”
He got under the sheets and switched his lamp off, leaving you in the dark with the faint light of your Kindle illuminating the room.
“Goodnight, honey,” he said with a yawn.
“Night.”
You turned your Kindle off and just sat in silence, his snores breaking the illusion of the dark consuming you.
You’re starting to think the worst.
You kept up a number of tactics subtle to glaringly obvious to appeal to your husband from changing up your perfume to what you would say was an amazing strip tease. Absolutely nothing is working.
He kept listing off excuses from the kids to his job to his parents to his brother, anything to avoid an intimate session with you. He even chose a night out with his boys over a night in bed with you which was jarring because he always made you feel good before going out to have a good time.
Did he not find you attractive anymore? You knew childbirth brought a lot of change, but you were still the same woman he met and fell in love with.
Did he not love you anymore? He often praised you for being a good mom and his pet names never stopped, but after that, his declaration of love for you had been very surface-level.
Is he cheating on you?
You really didn’t want to entertain that thought, but your heart couldn’t take any more pain than it already had.
So, one day when you say you’re taking the kids to the park, you drop them off at your mom’s place instead, hoping that if there was something going on, no little hearts would be broken once you unleash a beast in the house.
You pull back in the driveway to see that he’s still here, just as you suspected. You make your way quietly through the house, inching closer to you all’s bedroom.
Your heart almost stops when you hear the sound of Miguel’s voice, high and breathy in a way that should only reach your ears. You don’t think when you swing the door open, adrenaline pumping high.
Miguel yells, scared to death but alone.
“What are you doing?” you ask, voice frustrated.
“What am I doing? What are you doing?”
You look at the state he’s in, shirt up, waistband under his dick, and a mystery fabric in his hand.
“Were you getting off?” you say, hands dropping to your side. “Do you…do you not love me anymore?”
“What?”
“Do you. Not. Love me anymore. You avoid me every time I’ve tried to initiate something with you. We haven’t made love in so long. You keep making excuses to not be alone with me. You don’t even want to do normal things with me like send pictures or makeout until we’re out of breath. I’ve heard you in the bathroom during the night and now you’re here doing the same thing, without me, your wife.” Your eyes start to water after it all, feeling utter defeat.
“Cariño, this is a misunderstanding,” he pleads, voice distraught. “I do love you. I’ve never stopped loving you.”
“Then why are you doing this to me?”
“Because,” he pauses, fixing his clothes to have some decency. “I…haven’t felt the greatest about my body.”
Your tears dry up as soon as the statement resonates, “What? What do you mean?”
Miguel sighs.
“Lately, it’s getting harder and harder for my old clothes to fit me anymore, I’m way too busy to hit the gym and more than anything, I think you deserve a man who’s a little less,” he gestures to himself, “let go.”
“Says who?”
He looks at you as if you’ve grown two heads, “Uh, everybody?”
“Well, who is everybody because I’d like to strangle them for letting you think that my husband isn’t good enough for me.” You walk deeper into the bedroom crowding Miguel’s space. “You’ll always be perfect for me. The vows I promised to you will not be broken over something so normal as weight gain.”
He looked like he could cry.
“Why did you hide you were feeling this way, baby?” you hold his head in your hands scratching at his scalp.
“It felt stupid and silly. You’ve been doing so well socially and physically, I wanted to see if I could fix it on my own before bringing you down with my problems.”
“Miguel O’Hara,” you say, gripping his jaw firmly. “I’m your wife. I might not be able to solve everything, but at the very least, you need to talk to me. Tell me how you’re feeling, express yourself with words. Don’t hide.”
He wrapped his arms around you, sniffling, “I know. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
You pressed a long kiss into his scalp, rubbing his back.
“Oh my gosh,” you chuckled. “You were feeling so much internally, meanwhile I was practically screaming at you to fuck me. I thought you weren’t attracted to me anymore.”
So much for communication.
Miguel just burried his face in your chest while he groaned, “That’s the thing! You were driving me crazy with your tight little workout clothes and your lingerie. You looked so good, but I couldn’t get out of my own head. I’ve been…”
“You’ve been what?”
“I,” he got red in the face. “I’ve been using your underwear.”
You look down to Miguel’s crumbled up hand and it was in fact your underwear from the night you wore his band t-shirt, drenched in his essence.
Your stomach turned with excitement.
“So this is what you were doing in the bathroom in the middle of the night, hm? Using my panties? Giving them more action and attention than me?”
Miguel nodded, eyes hazy.
“Did it feel good?”
Another nod.
“I bet it did. I would wake up and hear you trying so hard to cum.”
You don’t know how, but his face got even warmer.
“You left your poor wife all alone, thinking about you on top of her until she came too.”
“I did?”
“You didn’t know?” you ask, playfully. “I was up all night imagining you walking out to see me. I wanted these arms to come and hold me.”
You squeeze at his arms on your sides.
“I wanted your weight on me. I wanted your chest against mine.I needed you so bad.”
You move to sit in his lap, knees on the side of him.
“You do such a great job of being a father. This beautiful change in your body is only proof of your hard work and dedication. It’s proof of love for your family.”
Miguel only melted in your hands, face a cloud of emotion.
“I love you, Miguel. I adore you. I yearn for you. I want you.”
With every declaration, came a kiss to his lips.
“Can I show you how much I love you?”
“Please.”
With that, you took his shirt off and made your way down his chest. You lingered around his chest, holding his pecs as you kissed them all over. You couldn’t stop your moans as your tongue felt across the hairy planes of his chest, sucking and pulling on his nipples. Miguel shudders as you pay special attention to them, sensitive after not being with you for so long.
“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this,” you breathe into his skin. You slide onto the floor and just press your face into his stomach.
“You like it that much?”
“Love it. You look so yummy walking around. You could be just standing there and I get so,” you cut yourself off, trying not to overwhelm him with just how much you were feeling. “You’re hot, baby.”
You kiss down his happy trail to reach his pants, his stomach twitching. You tugged a bit too hard on his pants, causing him to laugh.
“What’s so funny?” you say with a pout.
“I haven’t seen you like this since we won that couple’s retreat.”
“Not my fault. You were all sexy up there, beating the other husbands with your big brain. It was doing something to me.”
You finished pulling and you could almost cry with joy when Miguel’s cock springs next to your head. The sound you make when you see it also has Miguel wound tight.
Completely taken over by your neediness and desperation, you pull one of his thick legs over your shoulder, kissing and sucking on the skin while your fingertips dance around the entirety of his length.
The display of strength shocks Miguel who drips and whines at your actions.
“I’m gonna make you feel so good, baby. Do you want that?”
“Yes,” he whispers.
You cup him while you take his head in your mouth. It felt like pure bliss to have that familiar taste in your mouth. With the way you were humming, Miguel can tell that you were about to put him to sleep.
You took no time letting your tongue stretch to take more of him in. Your cheeks hollow as you go further, one hand kneading at the thigh you were holding and the other switching from fondling him to wrapping around the base of his length.
“God,” Miguel’s voice filled the room, the loudest it had been for the past few months. “I don’t think I’ll last that long.”
You let go of him and lick down the sides, “That’s because you’re too busy fucking other things instead of me.”
“’M sorry,” he whined as you went back down on him. “I-I was still thinking of you and, ngh, wanting you.”
“Mm hm,” your voice sent shocks down his spine as you didn’t let go. He moved his hips steadily, dick sliding in and out of your mouth and pudge occasionally pressing against your face.
The faster he went, the noisier the sounds got. He moved his hands to your head, thighs eerily close to tightening around your face. You couldn’t have it any better.
You dug your nails into his hips, throat contracting in order to take him in. Even with your jaw slacked, it’s been so long since you took him like this that you gagged more often than not. With every sound of your throat struggling, Miguel shouted your name, hands gripping tighter on your hair.
You could tell he was close by the way his thigh was tensing on your shoulder, so when he said the four words, you took him to the hilt, face completely pressed against him.
“Shit!” he felt like passing out as he released into your throat. You swallowed as much as you could, but you couldn’t take it all, saliva and cum esxaping down your chin to his balls.
He grunts when he pulls you off, chest moving sporadically.
You lick your lips and let out a satisfied sigh, “Finally.”
Miguel could only chuckle as he laid back on the bed. You crawled on top of him, sitting on his thighs with a smile. You rub your hands on the skin of stomach, slowly getting to his chest, “I’m like, really wet right now if you want some more painties to use.”
He growled as he pulled you closer.
“You’re never going to let that go, are you?”
“Nope,” you say, popping the P. “I really want you to do it in front of me. Maybe send me a video for the nights you work overtime.”
He had the nerve to look embarrassed as he wrapped his arms around your back, “I might be able to arrange that.” He kissed your lips to distract you from speaking on it further.
After Miguel returned the favor with his head between your legs, the both of you were enjoying a quiet moment together before having to go pick up the kids.
“I can’t believe you thought I was cheating on you,” Miguel said as you were drawing circles on his chest.
“Miguel,” you say, lifting your head. “I pulled all the stops. I did things that I knew you loved: the t-shirts, going commando, the flirty pictures. I even brought whipped cream to the bedroom and you told me ‘I can’t eat that, it’ll blow up my stomach,’ when you were literally in the kitchen taking shots of it the night before.”
“Ok. So I see how you might have gotten to that ludicrous conclusion, but did you not notice how much I’ve been staring at you?”
You clicked your teeth, “Yeah, but what does that mean when you don’t act on it?”
Miguel twisted his lip, “Will you feel better if I told you that your work pictures turned me on too?”
You pinched him resulting in a yelp, “I’ll feel better right now if you give me a shower round.”
He pulled you in his arms as he got out of the bed, “Let’s go before your mom calls.”
You giggle and swing your feet on the way.
After your afternoon of praising his body, Miguel emerged as his previous confident self. This meant more days with him walking around shirtless, more quickies in the morning, makeouts that ended in pleasure, him smacking your ass, you smacking his ass back, and sex. Lots and lots of sex.
Right now, Raul was down for a nap and Gabriella was enjoying her tablet time.
You, however, were clawing at Miguel’s back like a cat as he pounded you into the mattress.
“Fuck!” you shouted, eyelids fluttering as Miguel’s cock dragged across your walls. “It feels so good.”
“Quiet, mi vida,” he whispered. “The kids are in their rooms.”
You were quick to cover your mouth, moans muffled. It really didn’t matter because the creaks of the bed were just as loud as you. One change in position and the headboard denting the walls could be added to it.
It was all too much.
First, he woke you up with kisses down your body and a promise to lighten your load around the house. Then, he got the kids up and prepared breakfast with the help of Raul. Later while you were out running errands, he sent you a coupon for a spa that just opened up down the street and warm message.
Now, he has you losing your mind with his hips slapping against yours, whispering praises in your ear.
“Miguel!”
“Hm? Talk to me.”
“I-I can’t-” your voice keeps getting louder unintentionally. He was so calm while he was reaching so deep inside. Your mind was hazy, wanting nothing more than him to keep going.
“You’re doing so good, Ma. You’re so good to me and the kids. You’re such a beautiful wife. Such a pretty Mama. Just wanna make you feel good.”
You felt yourself clench around him at his words, tears falling across your temples. He kissed your tears tenderly, strokes getting deeper.
“M-Miguel,” you say with your heart full. “I love you.”
“I love you too, baby. So, so deeply,”
That was all it took for you to suck him in and scream into his shoulder, nails digging into his shoulder blades. His release was soon after, painting your walls with his lips pressed against your ear.
“Papá! You have to be more careful,” Gabriella fussed with her hands on her hips while Miguel was in the kitchen trying to make the family a snack. “You got hurt at work!”
Miguel paused and reached behind his back, fingers roaming over the healing scratches on his shoulder from his last session with you.
You covered your teeth with your lips as Miguel turned to look at you with his eyebrows raised.
“It’s ok, mija. Papá is tough!”
“But you gotta put something on it,” Gabriella said with a huff.
“Thank you for your concern, nena. I’ll get Mamá to take care of it, ok?” he ruffled her hair as he handed her a plate of bunny-shaped apple slices. “Now go sit with your brother and watch some TV.”
Miguel huffed as he walked up to the side of you with his arms crossed.
“What? You should put your shirt on!”
“That’s not what you said when you-”
“Hush and go get the aloe.”
Miguel snickered as he gave your lips a peck, “Yeah, yeah.”
Life was wonderfully sweet.
With that, my first request is done! As always, like, reblog, and COMMENT. Let me know how you guys feel! 🩵
#to the lab testers 🩻#love lab fics 🧫#DadBod!Miguel 👨👧#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel x reader#miguel o'hara smut#dadbod!miguel#dad bod miguel#miguel o'hara#atsv miguel#miguel 2099#miguel fanfic#miguel o'hara fanfiction#miguel o'hara x fem!reader#miguel o'hara x you#miguel ohara fanfiction#miguel ohara smut#miguel ohara x fem!reader#miguel ohara x reader#miguel o’hara#miguel o’hara smut#miguel smut#miguel spiderverse#miguel x you#miguel ohara
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sincerely yours. (10)
↳ gojou satoru/reader
when a twist of fate led their marriage to the path of a quintessential tragic romance, two past lovers go through another series of experiences on love, heartbreak, identity, illness, and trauma along the road to a happily ever after.
genre. heavy angst, amnesia, modern au, 18+
tags/warnings. depression, intoxication, trauma, implied suicide attempt, toxic relationships,
notes. important announcement ! as you all know, this series has always had an extensive approach into detailing the events in its side stories (ie. sera x sukuna x naoya, yuuji x megumi, maki x yuuta x miwa, etc), but while writing the chapters, the word count and the plot building had become too exhausting for me to produce consistently, esp with the amount of scenes and side stories i was introducing to the story, so i've decided it's best for me to stick to the main characters, reader & gojo, and will only add side stories as necessary. this really hurts me knowing that i can't achieve the level of comprehensive writing and world building that i did for sincerely not, but i really want to finish sy as soon as possible and removing a chunk of side stories would be some of the things that'd help me achieve that 😭 i hope you guys understand. hopefully i'll figure out a way to write those side stories instead of completely abandoning them mid-way in this series. but as always, thanks for ur continued support <3
series masterlist -> episode eleven
“It’s a little weird.”
What was supposed to be her bed time had turned into a moment of reflection for Sera who, instead of being fast asleep at this time of the night, had unconsciously brought herself inside Sukuna’s home office to join the up-and-coming tech mogul in his late-night programming.
She wore her silk pajamas, pacing back and forth in her boyfriend’s office as her mind flew back to the recent encounter she had with her ex-boyfriend. Who knew that Satoru’s kid would look just like a carbon copy of him? No, actually, the question should be: who knew it would be a different woman by his side acting as the mother of his child? Sera had to laugh at herself, shaking her head as she realized how truly and undeniably ridiculous her ex was. It was clear that day that he wasn’t really as loyal of a partner as he claimed himself to be.
Did he really just go through all those crazy things with you, only to look like a whore-hopping fool now?
If he was bound to end up with someone else other than you, then why did he have to make Sera’s life miserable in the first place?
She may have done terrible things before as a selfish and materialistic lover of his, but that wouldn’t change the fact that Satoru also contributed to her role as the side-piece in his marital relationship. He allowed her to cling to him like a mistress. Being his side-piece wasn’t even something that she had forced upon him. It was his promise, an idea that he planted on Sera’s head, saying that she would need to stay by his side and that he would marry her guaranteed that he had already secured the merger and divorced you. He swore like a fool that he would divorce you. But guess what? The jerk ended up falling in love with his wife and suddenly had no use of Sera. Suddenly, he was such a good husband who couldn’t be more loyal. Suddenly, he was a lovestruck man who had always been in love with his childhood friend. If he had downright dumped Sera the moment his engagement was announced, if he had not been prideful and ambitious since the beginning of his marriage, he probably would have had better luck at having that healthy relationship he yearned from you.
But how come the blame of being the third-party was all on Sera when her only mistake then was loving the person who promised her all the good things in life?
Now, you see, this was all just bitterness brewing at the back of her head. She knew what she did was still wrong and that she wasn’t innocent. Sera swore to herself that she would never look back on those awful days ever again, but seeing how Satoru was running around freely with a different woman just reminded Sera of his days as a spiteful, two-timing man. Somehow, it felt like he had changed and yet didn’t at all.
Ha ha ha. How ridiculous was that?
“What’s funny?” asked Sukuna, her present boyfriend and thankfully so. He was Sera’s blessing, because she never would have thought that a man like him could still exist in a world full of Satoru’s and Naoya’s. “You look cute smiling to yourself, though.”
“I know,” she responded to the compliment, shifting to settle herself on his lap, though his attention remained fixed on his laptop screen. “It's just strange to me,” she continued, her voice thoughtful, “how Gojou appears his usual self, yet there's something off about him.”
The question clouded Sukuna’s eyes in confusion, tilting his head to the side as he tried to comprehend her description. “You mean dude got uglier?”
I wish, Sera thought. “No, he’s… he’s different. The vibes are different. For a second, he even looked like he was dissociating the whole time he was with that girl,” she said, referring to Satoru’s new girl as though she was your cheap alternative, “But then again, why is he with her in the first place if he looks absent-minded the whole time, you know what I mean?”
“Was he like that with you before?”
“At times, but it’s not like the way he’s acting right now… I don’t know, I can’t explain it. The energy is off. That’s just not how he acts when he’s really, really into someone.”
To be honest, Sukuna didn’t give a damn about Satoru Gojou’s life and any normal boyfriend wouldn’t really like hearing their girlfriend talking about another man, especially her ex at that, but he knew Sera found joy in old money gossip and he was aware of the demoralizing past she has had by associating herself with them. Sukuna was acting all engaged in their conversation because he wanted to make her feel heard and that he shared her simple joys in life. Besides, it was through her that he learned so many inside scoops about the people that ran the country’s biggest conglomerates. It was like watching one heck of a messy episode of Dynasty.
“Didn’t he get into a car accident?” he recalled, remembering the headlines on the news that day, “Then, we saw him at the expo and he couldn’t really remember you. The guy’s probably got his head all messed up.”
Sera was bitter at the time thinking that Satoru was toying with her when he asked who she was, when the truth was, he was actually diagnosed with amnesia. It was such a shock to her, truthfully, because having amnesia felt like something you would only see on a movie’s screen. Well, in that case, she could also say karma’s a bitch. The director might be onto something here.
“He’s probably not mentally fine, but still…” she thought carefully and played the scene in her head again. What was it about the Gojou that she saw the other day that was different? “He just has a different vibe to him that it feels uncomfortable. It’s like he’s rude, but not so rude? He doesn’t have much of a personality anymore. Like a complete stranger.”
“Maybe it’s the new girl rubbing off on him.” Sukuna was back to typing on his laptop as he said that. Frankly, he was just saying anything at this point.
Sera shook her head in response. “Well, I don’t know about that girl he’s seeing and I don’t really care, but it’s common knowledge to the filthy rich that she’s Y/N’s best friend. That’s why I recognized her right away, and that’s why it disgusted me,” she pressed on, “Tell me, would you—and be honest about this—would you fuck your best friend’s ex?”
The humor on her boyfriend’s face came right as she asked that. “Babe, you fucked a married man. It’s worse than fucking somebody’s ex.”
“Shut up.” Rolling her eyes, she got up from his lap and sighed, but Sukuna wasted no time in pulling her back onto his lap. His chuckle was mingling with the gentle kiss he had planted on her cheek, unaware that his actions made Sera’s heart flutter. “Forget it. I shouldn’t even be talking about Satoru with you.”
The man stretched his arms and finally closed his laptop, patting Sera’s thigh afterwards. “On that note, I do have another ‘dude from your past’ that I gotta meet tomorrow.”
Her reaction alone was a response for him. “Naoya?” she protested, face contorting with disgust. “What for? I told you not to take on that project.”
“Yeah, I considered it, and you know, the partnership could really benefit CleaveTech,” Sukuna reasoned, leaning back as he outlined the situation to her from a business standpoint. Given her own background working for the Gojou Group before, he expected her to grasp the significance of this partnership and set aside any personal grievances or emotional attachments. “The Zen'in Group is a major client. It’s all pros and no cons here.”
“The contra is the guy you’re gonna work with,” she highlighted with a hint of annoyance rising from her throat, “Naoya is nothing but an opportunistic motherfucker. Mind you, he’s a stupid elitist, too.”
He held back a laugh, not even threatened by a man who had a terrible history with his girlfriend. “Nah, I’ll deal with him. Just trust me on this.”
As much as Sera wanted to object, she knew Sukuna had a point and that she really shouldn’t hinder his company from being partnered with such a large conglomerate. She just didn’t like the thought of her boyfriend being around a man who manipulated and humiliated her to the point where she had been blacklisted by multiple companies, leaving her to resort to being somewhat of a prostitute just to make ends meet.
The world was harsh for the not-so-rich, and all Sera wanted was to give those upper class people a taste of their own medicine. But seeing as her desire for revenge would clash with her boyfriend’s chance at company growth, she had to set aside her personal grudge and support him on this one.
Still, there was nothing wrong with being curious. “Is there any other reason you agreed to this partnership?”
Sukuna smirked as if he expected that question from her. “Blame it on my little brother, he’s been bugging me ‘bout it.”
“Yuuji?” Sera asked, clearly confused.
To which her boyfriend quickly answered, “Yeah. He said it’ll give him an opportunity to work with his best friend. You know that kid, Fushiguro, right?”
Ahh. Toji’s kid aka the heir to the Zen’in business empire. Sera had met Megumi before, and while that other brat Mai used to be unreasonably rude to her, the younger boy was always civil and respectful at least. He never even once treated Sera like dirt when she was spending time with Naoya at their mansion. Perhaps their upbringing really differed because he was raised by Toji and the other Zen’ins were raised by demons.
Nevertheless, with a connection now established between Sukuna and Naoya through Yuuji and Megumi, Sera couldn’t help but feel that her peaceful days as a nouveau riche were about to become far more intriguing. Depending on the cards she would choose to play, they could even turn into a living nightmare.
— —
You weren’t exactly abandoning your company; you were merely taking a break, a necessary pause given your current mental state after the whole break-up with Toji and the Osaka thing. Your mind was just too overwhelmingly occupied to even properly function. Each day, mustering the energy to show up at Hearte's head office became increasingly challenging, especially when faced with individuals who relied on you for major decisions and creative direction.
To make matters worse, Akemi’s sudden resignation hit hard.
You received her decision by a simple letter, a mere piece of paper, without even having the guts and decency to meet with you in person. Was she scared? Or was this her way of rubbing salt on the wound, shoving it in your face that she was now taking things to the next level with your ex-husband?
She did cite in her resignation letter that her reason for resigning from the role was due to conflict of interest. You wanted to laugh when you read that part. No, you wanted to choke in your fit of laughter after reading through her asinine reasons. She could have been upfront and mentioned that the so-called ‘conflict’ was the very man her best friend had previously married.
Obviously, everyone in the office felt sad knowing that a core member of the company left without at least a 30-day notice, but they were all also aware that her resignation was due to personal albeit controversial reasons. Did Akemi not care about her image at all? The same colleagues she had trained, managed, and collaborated with would now likely gossip about her behind her back. She would become a hot topic of disrespect among the people that once heavily respected her. Did she also not care about the company you two created together anymore? This was the same company you two had passionately dreamed of during your late-night conversations on a New York rooftop. She was the one who wanted to build a fashion house together with you.
Yet, it seemed she was willing to throw it all away for a man already entangled in complicated familial dynamics. Her immediate resignation and refusal to speak to you in person just further confirmed it to you that Akemi was willing to forsake your friendship by choosing a man who already had a child with someone else.
Since she chose that path, you couldn’t help but interpret Akemi’s actions as a deliberate slight against your friendship. It seemed clear that she no longer viewed you as a friend and was essentially cutting ties with you. Otherwise, why would she take such a step? Akemi wasn’t the type to be vindictive; she likely believed she was sparing you further pain by severing your connection. However, regardless of her intentions, her actions felt deeply disrespectful and hurtful.
If this was what she wanted, then kudos to her and her unbelievable confidence to choose a man like Satoru Gojou. Besides, it didn’t even take you a week to find another replacement. Your family connections were powerful after all. You readily had a pool of potential candidates for the role of the Head of Sales, Retail, and Merchandising—all from prestigious backgrounds and unparalleled expertise. While the competition was tough, you selected the person you deemed was the most qualified to be your second-in-command. This was someone you had esteemed since college, a person who excelled in both business acumen and creative vision.
Yuki Tsukumo. She was influential in every sense, and you trusted that she would be able to manage the high pressure environment of a start-up fashion house and transform it into an iconic brand, a household name that would one day rival Chanel and Miu Miu.
You may have succeeded in replacing Akemi. You may have shown her that her position in the workforce was easily replaceable, but her role as your friend still left a lingering, repugnant mark that proved far more difficult to erase. This underlying sentiment could explain the unreasonable anger festering in your heart—a visceral reaction born from feelings of backstabbing betrayal.
It was hard enough for you to travel all the way to Osaka with a broken heart, but it became much more agonizing to watch your own son run up to Akemi like she was his mother. It was a goddamn slap to your face, indeed, to see that your ex-husband had already chosen a woman to have his happy, little family with. That he wanted to be a good man and be everything you wished for in a husband for her.
As they say, nothing hurts more than building a man for another woman.
And honestly? You cried so much on the way home that you became numb. Now, you were just trying to get over it. You were trying to bury the searing pain in order to forget the betrayal you felt. It was all too much for a person to handle and it wasn’t like you hadn’t gone through the same old shit before. Wasn’t it worse before with Satoru actually cheating and all? He technically wasn’t crossing any lines here, so it shouldn’t hurt you. It shouldn’t. You had been here before. If you had managed to get through such an awful time as his previous wife, his relationship with Akemi shouldn’t be too hard to accept. No, you weren’t trying to lowball your pain, but it was better to be an optimist in this situation than be a suicidal, self-destructive person. You had a business to run and a child to raise. You had to be strong.
Or at least, that was what you told yourself. That was what you had been telling yourself over and over, each time you got up from bed forcing yourself to have a false positive mindset. In fact, that was also why you had to take this extended break because you had to have your peace of mind. You had to have some form of release to remember why you needed to stay alive and keep yourself going.
Not just for Sachiro’s sake, but also for your own.
Your safe haven for now was at the horse ranch, where the tranquility of riding and the beauty of nature provided the perfect ambiance for reflection. How long has it been since your last visit to Willow? Your father had been joking that you shouldn’t be leaving a beautiful, white Friesian horse unattended for years, especially not for the expensive price he paid her for. True enough, because the moment you saw the mare again, you almost forgot how majestic she was for her breed. Willow was a completely docile and graceful horse, so alike to you in many ways. However, one thing that was unlike you, was that she lived in peace, existing solely for herself and not for anyone else.
If only you could be like her.
As you reached out to stroke your rare-breed horse, a new and unfamiliar stallion in the stable caught your eye. To think of it, your family shared this equestrian estate with the Gojou family. This realization meant that the strikingly elegant and tall gray horse in the adjacent stall belonged to none other than Satoru.
“It’s a Thoroughbred,” the equine caretaker informed while guiding your horse out of the stable, “Mr. Satoru got him recently and named him Six.”
A gray Thoroughbred, renowned as the most expensive horse breeds out there. It could fetch a price as high as $70 million, and of course, Satoru was the perfect owner for such a prestigious horse. The stallion embodied his essence completely—its color, its build, its rarity. On the other hand, you couldn’t help but find his naming convention by number a bit odd. His previous black stallion was named Eight. This time around, it was Six. Couldn’t he be more imaginative?
“He’s beautiful,” you mumbled, nonetheless, in awe with the regality of the horse.
“He’s a good boy, too,” added the enthusiastic horsekeeper in a thick country accent, “Mr. Satoru was here yesterday and played polo while riding him. They were perfectly in sync even if it was his first time riding him.”
Of course, he would play polo. That was one of his favorite recreational sports. The burning question at hand was, who was with him during his visit? Because if the caretaker mentioned Akemi, you would certainly lose it. This was your private space with him. This estate was a place that none of his other women had access to, not even Sera. This was a location filled with memories from your childhood. For him to bring another woman here would be crossing the damn line.
“Did he bring anyone with him?” you asked, trying to sound casual as you dusted off your boots.
The caretaker denied. “No, he was alone. He just came to play polo and check the horses he recently bought.”
Oh… “He bought more than one?”
Did he seriously get Akemi her own horse? Your heart was racing at the thought, but the caretaker led you to the stable near the exit to show you the other horse than your ex-husband had purchased. It was a brown Shetland pony.
“He got a fully trained Shetland for your son,” the horsekeeper proudly declared, showcasing the pony as if he had been instructed to do so in anticipation of your visit. It was obvious that Gojou had already briefed him on introducing Sachiro’s new pony to you because he knew you would be asking about it. “His name is Elmo. He is kid-safe and very friendly.”
Frankly, you wanted to sigh in relief, but at the same time, it warmed your heart to know that Satoru got his son his own horse at such a young age. You could already sense him planning to make Sachiro take equestrian classes when he gets older, and probably join him on his horseback riding sessions, too. You could imagine just how perfect it would be to see the father and son bonding here, racing together, playing polo together… yet it would not be you who would be watching them on the side.
This future he was setting up with his son would be an experience he would share with Akemi.
There was no you in that vision anymore.
The caretaker likely questioned your sanity when he noticed the bitter smile on your face as you mounted your mare. He might have even doubted whether you were sane enough to ride alone, without a guide, particularly through the woods since Willow had not been ridden for some time now. However, you had done it countless times before and were quite familiar with the trail, and so you dismissed his offer to lead you and assured him confidently that you knew your way back.
You needed this solitude. You craved this moment of peace, alone with your thoughts and surrounded by nature, to reflect on the ceaseless torture of your life. It was just never-ending, squeezing every drop of happiness out of your system to make sure that you would only live to suffer. You really thought you had your happy ending with someone else? You actually believed you had found the perfect man to be your actual husband?
Well, unfortunately for you, Toji was not the one.
At first, your mind flew to Toji as you went on to the trail, allowing the mare to continue trotting as you held the reins to control her. You remembered Toji’s text that morning, asking you for the hundredth time if he could meet with you. He likely wanted to apologize in person, but you doubted he would change his mind and take back the things he said. Because they were true. He could never fill the void left by his deceased wife by being with another empty soul. It was painfully, unmistakably true. You were better off dead if that was the case, because even if you did end up marrying him, you would never be regarded as the person he loved the most. After all, your role in this world seemed to always be the second option. You were never the first in other people’s books. Not with your ex-husband. Not even with your family, especially with Gen around. You were meant to be a bystander, watching others live their perfect lives while you were forced to be in your misery. Someone like Toji would not have a guaranteed blissful marriage with you and you had to spare him from that. You had to draw the line and step back from this charade that you were playing with him, knowing that you were never the right person to be with him, so at some point, you had to accept his drunken words. They came from a place of truth, and that truth would set the both of you free.
Even it hurt. Even if it fucking hurt to hear his words. You couldn’t deny them.
You could easily forgive him, but his words might take a while for you to forget because even thinking about it now was bringing a wave of pain into your chest. You didn’t even notice that you were losing control on Willow’s reins by the time you entered further into the woods, bouncing on the saddle as you galloped along the challenging path. With the speed you were riding right now, inexperienced riders would certainly find it unsafe and scary. But for you? It was just what you needed. The breeze of fresh air, the thrill of riding alone, the peaceful sound of nature—you could die there and be at your happiest.
Maybe that was where you had to be; to disappear and leave them all behind. Wouldn’t that be best for everyone? If you were to vanish, they could finally be free. Your presence, even from the beginning, was a burden for everyone—for your dad, Gen, Satoru, Toji, and even Akemi. The people you trusted the most would be the same people who would secretly celebrate your demise. So, what else was hindering you from taking matters into your own hands and ending it all yourself?
“Giddy up!”
Was it Sachiro? Definitely. But now he had his father, and he was likely starting to see Akemi as a mother figure as well. Your role as his beloved mama could be easily replaced if you were to leave him now. It wouldn’t hurt him as much that way. Three years with Sachiro seemed sufficient enough, and he was at an age where he could grow up alongside his father. In this short span, he would have lasting memories with you, yet not enough to deeply grieve your absence. He was a young child, surrounded by people who would offer the whole world to him. At least, for that, you were eternally grateful. It brought you comfort knowing that your son would have support after you were gone, and that he would find a mother figure in Akemi. Given the brief time he spent with you and the rest of his life with her as his stepmother, Sachiro would likely come to love and accept Akemi as his own mother. This was the best outcome you could hope for.
My child, my son, my baby… please don’t get mad at mommy.
Tears were gushing out of your eyes and you hadn’t even realized it until they started blurring your vision. You were far too lost in your own thoughts, unaware that you were now in an unfamiliar and seemingly dangerous part of the trail. The path was getting a little bit too steep and poor Willow was clearly stressed at your inconsiderate handling. There were multiple obstacles on your rocky terrain and you weren’t as steady and controlled as you wanted to be because the horse wasn’t comfortable navigating such a difficult path with the pace you were forcing her to.
“Ah!”
Your attempt to balance was interrupted by Willow’s loud neigh, signaling her distress before she bolted into a full rampage. She was sprinting at an estimated speed of 20 miles per hour. Not even a skilled rider like Satoru himself would be cantering that fast on unfamiliar terrain and an unfit horse. But you, you clearly had a death wish, because instead of fearing for your own life, you were far more concerned at the thought of how dreamy Satoru and Akemi’s wedding would look like after your demise. They would definitely make Sachiro their ringbearer. Suguru would be the best man. Shoko, the maid of honor. People on the internet would praise them for being an attractive couple. They would anticipate their beautiful kids together, living in the same mansion he bought as a gift to you. He would kiss her good night, tell her loves her, and offer the whole world to her. They would exchange vows and promise themselves a lifelong commitment to be by each other’s side through sickness and in health, and only in death would they part.
“Willow!”
You let out a shriek as the reins slipped from your grasp, causing you to tumble off the saddle and crash onto the ground. The impact was first felt in your elbow, and a sharp, searing pain then radiated through your body. There you lay, sprawled on the dirt, helplessly watching Willow galloping out of control up the mountain, and then tragically plummeting off a cliff.
“Nooo! Willow, no!”
Utter hysteria overtook you. You sobbed uncontrollably, unable to determine which pain was more agonizing—the clearly broken elbow, the loss of the horse you had inadvertently led to its death, or the heart-wrenching reality of Satoru starting a family with someone else.
You were pathetic. You were such a pathetic excuse of a human being and this was why you deserve hell.
“Willow!”
Toji couldn’t love you. Your own son didn’t want to be around you. Satoru had gotten over you. And now, you drove a poor innocent horse to its demise because of your recklessness!
You were crying hysterically as you held your pained elbow, crawling by the cliff’s edge as you screamed for your horse’s name, but in the end, there was nothing you could do. You could only apologize to poor Willow for having such an irresponsible owner, and now she was dead because of you. 16 years of her life, she was able to live in peace until you came and ruined it all for her. It should have been you. You were the one who should have jumped off a cliff. You should atone for your sins and follow her, but you were too weak, far to overcome by the excruciating pain on your hip and your broken elbow to move or do anything at all.
That was, until your mind had completely shut down, leaving you as a mere body to be discarded alone in the darkness of the woods. You hoped that no one else would find you soon.
— —
“A-Angina?” Satoru’s eyes went wide. His whole world stopped before him.
“Yes. She was diagnosed with stable angina,” Dr. Mori confirmed, much to your husband’s horror. “But there is another factor that requires her to have more rest. You need to take good care of your wife, Mr. Gojou. Her body needs a lot of nutrients so she can carry safely.”
He could barely process the whole thing in his head because the news kept coming one after another, leaving him in a befuddled state with a flood of unanswered questions running through his mind. “What do you mean…?”
“Your wife is seven weeks pregnant.”
…
…
“Y/N?”
“Y/N!”
“Are you out of your mind?!”
You could barely pry your eyes open, but when you finally managed to, you were met with the concerned expression on Gen’s face. The harsh glare of fluorescent lights and the antiseptic scent confirmed to you that you were in the ER, likely an hour or two after the incident in the woods. The memory of the trail quickly flooded your thoughts, and a pang of sorrow gripped your heart as you recalled Willow's final moments before she fell off the cliff. The poor horse had lost her life, while the one responsible for her tragic death remained alive, save for the bandage wrapped around your arm.
“Why did you ride into the woods alone?” Gen persisted with her barrage of questions, standing by your bed as you attempted to sit up. “Are you suicidal or what? Riding your horse in a dangerous trail like that—”
“You know what, maybe I should have just died back there!” you snapped, wincing from the pain in your elbow. Her choice of words struck a nerve in you. “Maybe I’d prefer that over sitting here, listening to your sanctimonious lecture like you're so perfect yourself! How obnoxious.”
“Then, maybe you shouldn’t be riding so recklessly and causing alarm to everyone else!”
“Did I literally ask you to come save me?!”
The atmosphere around you two just became even more uninviting, with discomfiting silence seeping through as you and Gen were engaged in a sharp glaring contest. Your father stood behind her, clearing his throat to cut the tension.
“That’s enough, Gen.” Your dad placed a hand on her shoulder, and although she wanted to protest, she knew better not to keep stirring the pot after receiving his strict gaze. “Let’s just be thankful your sister is safe. There’s no need to be so overwhelming.”
You rolled your eyes, drawing in a deep breath before you looked away from them. None of them would ever understand your pain unless they were in your position. They didn’t carry the same baggage as you, so they would never fully comprehend the weight of your suffering. You had already dealt with similar pain on your own before and that was why you didn’t need any of them to come to your aid, meddling with your life like they knew exactly what you were going through. “Just leave me alone, you guys. I wanna rest.”
Since when did your relationship with your sister start to get rough? It wasn’t really like this before, but ever since she started to become too overprotective over you and your choices in life, particularly choices linked to Satoru, Gen had started to become insufferable in your eyes. She was acting too much like a mother; controlling your decisions, lecturing you about your personal relationships, being too involved with your private life. There, ever since that, you started to distance yourself from her, and she didn’t like that. Her stubbornness wouldn’t allow her to cease acting like this mature, picture perfect big sister to you.
With that said, Gen would have normally gotten annoyed when you asked them to leave you alone, but this time around, she seemed to have reflected on her insensitivity a lot better with your father around. “I’m sorry, okay?” she said, her tone still tinged with stubbornness, “I just got worried. I don’t know what’s gotten into you to put yourself in danger like that, but… please, Y/N. If you’re going through something, you can always speak to us. Dad and I, we’re here for you.”
To be fair, if you had to put yourself in their shoes, it really would have been alarming to know that your sister almost died. This wasn’t the first time you were at death’s door either, so they were probably scared shitless when they were informed of your situation. Your absolutely reckless situation. You didn’t mean to cause a scene, neither did you intend to bother them on their already busy schedules. You just had so many things in your mind while you were horseback riding, too engulfed by your own sorrow that you didn’t realize the repercussions after the incident had already taken place.
“I’m sorry, too.” Your voice softened with humility. “I didn’t mean to worry you guys. It was just really an accident.”
Of course, Gen suspected it was more than just an accident. Your dad did, too. It was obvious on their forlorn faces that they were worried for your mental and emotional well-being, but none of them dared address the elephant in the room. It seemed they didn’t need to, anyway, since one of the many reasons that contributed to your earlier breakdown took a peek from behind the curtains, clearing his throat and sending you a look of sympathy.
“Y/N?” Toji looked at your father and your sister for approval before stepping further inside your space in the ER. “Can I talk to you?”
There was no escaping Toji’s presence anymore. No more hiding, no more avoiding. You knew you had to have this talk with him no matter how many times you ignored his flood of texts and calls. While this may have struck as an opportune moment for him to speak to you in person, facing the painful truth of your situation weighed heavily on you. Besides, hadn’t the irony presented itself right there? If Satoru were the one trying to speak to you, even if he was the father of your child, Gen would have been quick to lash out at him. Yet with Toji, even with the general knowledge of what had transpired between you two, your sister still showed no hostility towards him, allowing him to approach you freely and without interference.
But then again, Toji was far from being a cheating, manipulative scumbag who not only caused you suffering but also sought to selfishly acquire your family’s company. Therefore, he wasn’t considered a threat.
Alright, then. Since Toji genuinely wasn’t a threat to your current emotional state, you agreed to talk with him. It was the first time you had seen the not-so-confident side of Toji Zen’in. He was typically a man of virtue, often holding his chin high, offering the best advice, and having insightful perspectives on life. However, it seemed you had shattered that confidence in him. You could sense his cautiousness around you as he stood by your side in the ER, assisting you with your needs, and eventually agreeing to your request to walk you to the rooftop garden.
“I don’t really think there’s anything else we should talk about.” It was you who first broke the silence, staring at the cityscape while sitting on a wheelchair. The calm breeze allowed your mind to seize the moment with a peaceful mind. “I already heard what you had to say.”
Toji found it better to kneel down in front of you to meet your eyes as he spoke to you in a sincere and earnest voice. “Y/N, I was drunk when I said all that shit back there. I didn’t mean them. I didn’t mean to hurt you with my callous words, and I feel awful that you had to hear them from me. You trusted me. You sought comfort from me. I wasn’t thinking like a normal person when those things came out of my mouth.”
“That doesn’t mean they weren’t true,” you replied with quiet resignation. It was the acceptance in your face that seemed to have caused Toji’s heartbroken gaze. “It’s okay, Toji. I think, when you said all those things, it actually made me realize some aspects of our relationship that had to be addressed. It made me more self-aware and it opened my eyes on the bigger picture.” You touched his hand, giving it a comforting squeeze as you mustered the courage to speak your next words. “It’s for the best that we part ways. It’s not fair to me to become a placeholder for your wife the same way it isn’t fair to you to have to deal with my ex-husband always being present in my life. Our unresolved feelings won’t really be resolved by being together.”
“Y/N…” Toji’s voice hinted at his vulnerable emotions, though he restrained himself from showing it fully. And you didn’t miss the apologetic look he had presented to you. “Despite all that, I hope you know that I’d been true to you. I do love you and will always love you. I’ll always be someone you can rely on, someone you can seek comfort from, someone you can turn to when you need help…”
Damn it. Why did he have to make it sound like an actual break up? Now, it tugged at your heartstrings and hit you in a place it shouldn’t have. You weren’t good at these things and it certainly was your first time dealing with such a mature and mutual separation, but wasn’t that a good thing? No further drama was to happen, leaving a stark comparison to your separation with Satoru. While this one didn’t hurt as much, it still brought a hollow feeling in your chest.
“Same for me,” you agreed, displaying a weak smile. “You’ll always have a spot in my heart, Toji. I’ll always be grateful that I met you.”
Sometimes, two people didn’t need to be together to love each other. Friendships could still thrive between ex-lovers, and that was why closure was so important. It not only closed a certain chapter of your life in a healthy way, but also allowed you to heal and open yourselves to a new beginning without any bitterness left behind.
It shouldn’t be considered bad to remain friends with an ex. It also shouldn’t be bad to give a parting kiss from said ex, right?
You weren’t the one who initiated it, after all. It was Toji’s hand that gently stroked your cheek. It was him, who leaned forward and pressed his lips onto yours. It wasn’t forceful, but neither was it passionate. It was simply a tender kiss of goodbye, feeling the warmth of each other’s lips for one last time before you two would transition from being lovers to friends. What you didn’t understand from this supposedly bittersweet moment was the faint tears that somehow managed to escape your eyes, perhaps because you knew that once Toji left, you would be alone again.
You had no one by your side to love you, cherish you, choose you, and offer their entire world for you. You were meant to live this cruel world all by yourself.
As he pulled away, he pressed his forehead against yours. “Please learn to love yourself before anyone else, Y/N. It’s what you need and what you deserve.”
That night, while you were getting your MRI, your mind kept flying to the possibilities of a future without having anyone by your side. Any normal person would tell you to focus on loving yourself first, as Toji did recently, focusing on what matters most, and ridding yourself of the toxic things that hinder you from moving forward with your life. Things weren’t as easy as they sounded. Besides, it was different being on the receiving end of the said advice. How could you do those things when the primary cause of your pain was someone whose life would always be linked to yours forever?
Based on the result of your MRI scans, your doctor recommended that you undergo elbow arthroscopy. It was just a minimally invasive procedure compared to open surgeries, but considering how much of an overthinker your dad was when it came to your health, he insisted on your confinement at the hospital until you had been completely cleared of any other issues. He really placed a big deal on your condition and emphasized to the doctors that they make sure nothing was missed. It could have been worse; you could have had a broken hip or a fractured leg, but at least you only had a dislocated elbow. Nothing that couldn’t be easily corrected by surgery and physical therapy.
The decision was for you to stay there for two days, and on your first night, a crying Sachiro ran inside your private room because his ‘mama has a boo boo’. Gen said he was picked up from daycare and dropped off at the hospital because the poor kid was looking for you. She didn’t mention who dropped your son off to you, but you could tell it was Satoru. You could sense it by the glances she exchanged with Ian after you asked how Sachiro came to the hospital.
So, in that case, Satoru must have found out about your little incident and didn’t care enough to see you. Did he not even have an ounce of care anymore? Or was it Gen who stopped him from seeing you?
“Did you ask him to leave?” you confronted Gen in a mellow voice, rubbing Sachiro’s back as he snuggled into you on the hospital bed.
Your sister knew exactly which man you were referring to, and she denied having done such. “No, I didn’t even talk to him. He took Sachi here and left.”
You didn’t know why you looked at Ian to confirm the truth of his wife’s words, but hurt yourself upon seeing his bowed head. It was an apologetic expression that did signify your ex-husband’s blatant act of ignoring you. To hear about your near-death experience and simply leave without even checking on you should be your wake-up call. He didn’t care anymore. No, why should he care? He had Akemi. His only responsibility with you was to be a supportive father to your son.
Why did the pain in your heart feel far more agonizing than the discomfort on your dislocated elbow?
If anything, you wanted to ask for the strongest anesthetic they could offer to numb your pain. You were desperate to have anything even if they had to put you into an eternal sleep. That would have been much easier to deal with than feeling disregarded by a person you supposedly had moved on from. Satoru did nothing wrong here. It was you who had that expectation, only to disappoint yourself when things didn’t happen as you imagined.
And just when you thought things would get better as long as you ignore your torturous thoughts, it didn’t help that being in the hospital kept giving you flashbacks of the time you were in this exact room, hearing Satoru crying helplessly from outside and begging for you not to terminate his child. What comes around certainly goes back around. Or worse.
Such depressive thoughts had you occupied throughout your stay there, and your unusual placidness alarmed the nurses instead of being assured that you were doing well. You heard your doctors telling your father and sister to always keep a close eye on you as the incident may not seem serious, but the trauma would undoubtedly be present somewhere and somehow. Were they aware? Of your intrusive thoughts of wanting to hurt yourself?
The elbow arthroscopy was successful and by the second day, you were free to go home. You were placed on certain medications to help with the swelling and the pain, and while you were walking around the hospital with a listless mind, you happened to pass by the Obstetrics and Gynecology Department. What a deja vu it was, remembering the time you had seen Satoru there waiting outside for Sera. Back then, it was one of the climactic events in your life that led to a domino effect on the downfall of your marriage. Not that you were reminiscing, but it did remind you that Shoko was probably there in her consultation room and it would be nice to talk to a friend who had witnessed the wild history of your marriage.
You asked Gen to wait for you in the car while you headed to Ieiri’s consultation room, assuring your visibly worried sister that everything was fine and that you wouldn’t take too long. You had to give Gen some slack, because despite the strains in your relationship as sisters, she was still always there for you. At the end of the day, she was family.
Shoko, on the other hand, was the next closest thing you had for a sister. She welcomed you inside her room in a very worried embrace, telling you that if she had known about the incident, she would have gone straight to your hospital room on your first day, but you told her not to worry about it and understood that being in the medical field already had her schedule tight.
“Well, I guess it’s perfect that you’re here, too.” Shoko smiled warmly, sitting behind her desk. She had exciting news to offer, it seemed. “I just wanna say that… of course, I’ll still be sending you a formal invitation and everything. I actually have a few gifts along with it.”
You shared her enthusiasm. “Hmm… is it what I think it is?”
The wedding. The most eventful day of her life would be arriving soon and you were the first one to hear it.
“Yes!” she answered, with the utmost joy coruscating from her eyes. “I want you to be my maid-of-honor, Y/N. I’d be extremely happy if you could make it. I know you just got into an accident, but it won’t be until two months, so—”
“Hey, it’s okay.” You eased her worries by chuckling. “I’m completely fine, of course I’ll be there. I can’t miss it.”
Shoko was grateful to hear your answer, relieved even, because by asking you to be her maid-of-honor, you should already understand who Suguru’s best man would be. That was a touchy subject for you and she was keenly aware of it, but you didn’t want her to worry. You didn’t want your relationship with your ex-husband to have a negative impact on the relationship of all the other people surrounding the both of you. It was already bad enough that Shoko and Suguru almost called off their engagement after they fought over their morals as you and Satoru’s friends, and you were glad that they somehow made things work. They somehow set aside their disagreements and ultimately chose their love over anything else.
Their love was beautiful, and while that wasn’t something you could easily have, it was something you deeply admired.
“Where are you guys planning to hold your wedding?” you asked, steering the conversation away from any mention of your ex-husband. “Here or overseas?”
She delighted you with her answer, sounding as if this was the perfect wedding she had always dreamed of. “It’s an intimate wedding on the lakeside. Suguru chose the location, actually, since he wanted our wedding to have the view of Mount Fuji.”
“That’s perfect,” you said with wide eyes. “Lake Kawaguchiko?”
“Yep. That’s exactly where it’d be.” She smiled with her eyes. “You know this resort… Hoshinoya Fuji? We already booked the place, and we have a luxury cabin for friends and families to stay at.”
You had been there before, but you were too young to remember. All you knew was that it was a high-end resort that had the best panoramic views of Lake Kawaguchiko and Mount Fuji. The hotel owner was also a close friend of the Gojou family, so that was probably why they were able to rent the entire place for the wedding, especially at a peak season for tourists.
Since the fall season was arriving, you could only imagine the stunning views of the autumn foliage there. It offered the perfect weather, too. It wouldn’t be as hot as summer, nor as freezing as winter. Surely, it would be nice to do some nature walks and stargazing, maybe ride a boat or bathe in a hot spring. You looked forward to it, except for the fact that your ex-husband would also be there.
And just what a perfect timing it was, because as Shoko sorted through her patients' medical records above her desk, a file slipped from the pile, revealing the name of your very friend, Akemi.
“Oh,” Shoko murmured apologetically as she retrieved the record, not wanting to ruin the mood of your conversation. “She, uh, came by a few days ago... with Gojou.”
You didn’t need to ask. You didn’t need to hear any further detail. Akemi’s visit likely revolved around her desire to conceive, as she wouldn’t have visited Shoko otherwise. Why? If it were simply to monitor her polycystic ovary, why did she choose Shoko instead of her own gynecologist? Thinking of how your ex-husband and best friend were attempting to start a family together left your heart shattered in unimaginable pieces, stirring up painful memories of your pathetic marriage with Satoru and reopening old wounds you thought had already healed from. Wasn’t it ironic that a couple of years ago, you were crying over the same situation with Sera?
You couldn’t stand this feeling anymore. You thought you had already freed yourself from the pain of loving him, yet here you were suffering from the same heartbreak over and over and over again. Tears threatened to spill, but you held them back, the ache in your chest too raw to confront just yet.
“It’s funny.” Although you displayed an outward smile, the sadness in your voice reflected your otherwise inward thoughts. You didn’t know why you said that. You were just too… too emotional. Almost like you couldn’t breathe. “He was never this passionate with me. They seem so in love.”
Ieiri’s eyes carried sisterly concern in them. “Y/N, it’s not really what you think.”
Was it? You weren’t sure what to feel anymore. You certainly weren't there to hear it anymore, either. Satoru chose her, just like what you wanted for him to do. Just like what you asked him to do. He had moved on, he had found someone who would love him for who he was, he had chosen the woman he would share the rest of his future with. Call yourself ridiculous for even feeling hurt about it, because you had no right to be and you definitely chose this. Either you own up to it, or you cry about it for the rest of your life.
Both choices had no happy endings.
— —
When Satoru learned about your incident in the woods, he thought he was going to lose his mind.
Was it out of love that he swiftly left the office in the middle of a meeting just to get to where you were?
He still had to pick up Sachiro from daycare, and he felt bad telling his son on the way to the hospital that his mother was hurt. It actually gave Satoru a hard time explaining to the 3-year old that they had to go to the hospital because his mommy was there and that she had an unfortunate encounter while riding a horse.
“Dada, is… is mama okay?” Sachiro pouted with wide, tearful eyes as he clung to his father’s hand. “Sachi wants to go to mama!”
“She’ll be okay, Sachi.” Gojou carried his son and soothed him as they went inside the hospital, searching for you. “Mommy’s strong, remember?”
Was it out of love that he wanted to be the person that brought your son to you when you most needed him?
According to the nurse, your room was on the seventh floor, but when he got there, your room was empty. It was Ian who told him that you went up the rooftop garden to get some fresh air, insisting that if Satoru wanted to go and talk to you, that it was best to leave Sachiro with them.
And so he did. He ran hastily, almost out of breath, until he reached the rooftop, scanning every face within the vicinity until his tired blue eyes finally landed on you.
Satoru laughed in disbelief. He scoffed bitterly, with each breath full of disgust. The tips of his fingers felt cold, while his breathing grew thin and ragged. He could feel his stomach clenching at the humiliation of seeing you engaged in an intimate make-out session with Toji Zen’in.
How sickeningly sweet.
At that point, he was laughing at his own expense, ignoring the elderly lady who looked at him like he was a crazy person. He stood there frozen for a few minutes, watching you kiss another man before it finally woke him up from reality.
It was out of love that he let you go.
You see? This was where his attachment to you would lead him. It was pure and unreasonable selfishness, but he would gain nothing at all from even seeing you. He didn’t need to care for you at all, no. You had Toji. You seemed to be goddamn happy with your life with Toji. And what a romantic fucking moment that was, too.
Satoru couldn’t think straight when he hurriedly left the hospital and got inside his car. He desperately wanted to forget the painful image of you locking lips with somebody else. How? How would he? Fuck! He was mad, mad at himself for choosing to come to your aid like he still had any role in your life. He was disgusted at himself for ignoring Akemi’s calls after promising her a movie date after work. He couldn’t believe he had her waiting all by herself in that cinema, waiting for him to come while he was stupidly running around the hospital to see his ex-wife.
You chose Toji, then you better be happy. Satoru hoped you were happy, and that wish came from a place of genuineness. He genuinely hoped the best for you. Because for him, it was time to fully let go and stop himself from trying to be the superhero whenever you were in danger. You weren’t his wife anymore.
So, was it out of love that he headed straight to Akemi’s apartment that night with a bouquet of red roses?
She didn’t know what happened nor was she given the full detail as to why he unintentionally stood her up on their date night. He had just briefly explained that he had to drop Sachiro off to you at a hospital because you got into a small accident. Akemi, being your friend, got immediately worried upon hearing the situation and asked if Satoru was able to check on you.
He said no. He said Toji was there. He said he left as soon as dropped Sachiro off.
And in an effort to apologize for not paying attention to the current woman in his life, Satoru pulled Akemi in a tight embrace. He held her in her arms, drunk from the sweet and citrusy notes of her perfume, before pulling away to kiss her. He kissed her with the same passion as you did with Toji. Perhaps even more, even better. He completely devoured her lips, with a hand on her cheek and the other on her waist. The taste of her tongue was sweet like strawberries, while her lips were red like cherries.
This woman was all he needed.
But was this love? He didn’t know. It was too soon to tell, too early to answer, too hasty to even consider.
— —
The current situation you were in reminded you of your younger self after your mother had died. It was the same before; you never left the house, often locking yourself in your room, shutting yourself off from the world, and drowning yourself with the pain and loneliness of losing somebody important.
Sure, no one really died for you to be acting this way right now, but the feeling was still the same. Was this really a comeuppance to all of your wrongdoings before? But just how terrible were you of a person to be hit by this unbelievable truckload of sorrow? You might as well spur on the physical pains of your angina again if this torment continued. Otherwise, how else do you avoid it?
You were being a terrible mother, too. You were too engrossed by your own misery that you couldn’t even properly take care of Sachiro. He didn’t deserve to have an incompetent and irresponsible mother like you. He deserves someone better, someone like Akemi, who not only has all the motherly traits a woman should have, but also the physical and mental capacity of being a true, strong woman.
Sachiro was bound to have that, anyway. Now that his father was planning his lifelong journey with another woman, and now that he was trying to build a happy family with her, you were no longer needed in the picture. There was no need for you.
How many more times would you tell that you have accepted it?
Because, god be damned, you knew you couldn’t. You knew you were lying to yourself when you said everything was fine, lying to Satoru when you told him you didn’t need him in your life anymore, lying to Toji for telling him that you wanted to marry him, lying to Akemi that you didn’t care if she was seeing your ex-husband, and lying to Sachiro when you promised to him that you would never leave his side. You were a liar. A terrible liar. A pitiful, terrible liar.
How would you tell the universe that you couldn’t take it anymore? That, for once, you wanted to be showered by happiness and all the good things in life?
Sera was right. Not everyone could have it all. There were people of lesser fortune who weren’t blessed to live a lavish life like you, yet still work hard to achieve what they want. Why couldn't you achieve your own happiness without blaming it on the universe? If this was simply a lesson, then weren’t you the top student at this rate?
God. God, help me. You really didn’t know how to deal with this life anymore. You weren’t sure how to proceed. You couldn’t rely on anything other than the bottle of alcohol on your hand—what was once full was now half empty after you took another swig. This was your second bottle already, wasn’t it? Or third?
You got up from the floor and failed to walk in a straight line as you made your way towards the balcony. Your steps were unsteady, wavering like a leaf caught in a gentle breeze. With each attempt to move forward, your body swayed from side to side, struggling to maintain balance. You almost lost grip of the bottle you were holding. No, it did, in fact, slip from your hand and ended up crashing into the floor. Shards of glass lay across the ground, ready to pierce the soles of your feet to mirror the same physical pain your heart was experiencing.
“Stop,” you muttered under your breath, begging for your chest to stop hurting. But it only worsened, and your antidote to that was to wash it down with even more liquor. No matter how expensive it was, you didn’t even like the taste of alcohol. You hated the sting on your throat whenever you drank it. You despised the bitterness it left on your tongue. However, it did great at numbing your emotions.
It just felt wrong in many ways that you were seeing Satoru’s face whenever you closed your eyes. You could see his smile, his loving eyes, his beautiful lips. You missed his embrace, his kiss, his touch. You missed hearing his I love you’s. Him. You missed him. You yearned for him. Three goddamn years, and you were still undeniably in love with him.
“Satoru…” you cried, sitting on the floor. Each breath made it harder and harder for you to catch as tears continued to stream down your face. You were tired of pretending, denying that you no longer had feelings for him when you knew deep down that you would always choose him. “S-Satoru… come back to me, please.”
Was it him coming inside your room? Or was it your vision making a fool out of you?
“Baby, what are you doing?” Satoru’s expression was engulfed in immense worry as he knelt down and reached out to you, touching your cheek and looking at your eyes somberly. “Don’t do this yourself, Y/N.”
Your head hung low, your gaze unfocused and glazed, as you fought to keep your eyes on the path ahead. You had to reach him. You wanted to touch him, hug him. And despite your best efforts, your movements were disjointed and erratic, betraying the effects of the alcohol coursing through your veins.
“Y/N, that’s enough.” Gen had to use force just to be able to snatch the bottle away from you, forcing you to wake up to the reality where Satoru no longer existed to be there for you. It was her who came rushing inside your room in the middle of the night. The bottle of liquor was now spilled all over the floor. The same could be described with your emotions. “Get it together. You haven’t been acting like yourself lately!”
You couldn’t, even if you wanted to. You were in delirium after having dealt with all the terrible things the world had thrown at you. If you couldn’t drown yourself in alcohol, how else would you have been able to numb the pain? How else would you have been able to… forget?
As much as your sister tried to hide the obvious sympathy in her voice, even your drunken mind could recognize it. “We all know you’re going down the depression lane again, but never to this extent.” Her voice cracked in the middle of her sentence, cradling you into her arms as a tear fell down her face. The Gen who would usually lecture you, was now holding you in her arms as her only baby sister. “Stop this, Y/N, please. Don’t ruin your life the second time. I-It’s hurting me. It’s hurting Dad. Do you… do you realize what Sachiro’s gonna think of you when he sees you like this?”
“Gen…” Muffled sobs unwillingly came out of you, leaving you with such excruciating pain in the chest, so much so that it didn’t even feel like you had done surgery to fix your (quite literally) broken heart. “I w-want him back,” you continued to cry, “I want my husband back. I want to be with h-him, Gen.”
“Y/N.”
“Where’s S-Satoru…? D-Did he leave? Please take me to him—”
“Y/N, listen to me.” She gently cupped your cheeks, forcing you to look at her pained eyes. “You’re intoxicated. He was never here, and he’d never come for you. You have to let it go.”
“But—”
“He’s not good for you. He never will be.”
— —
It had been two weeks since Satoru last heard about you. Miwa was the one who updated him that you had already returned to your family’s mansion, letting him know that you were okay and that you were recovering well. Frankly, Satoru was starting to get annoyed at the fact that his secretary was still giving him updates about you. What did he care? He wasn’t your husband anymore.
Besides, Toji was probably visiting you every day, so why did he have to worry about you? If there was anyone he should be worried about, it was Akemi. She had been experiencing terrible pelvic cramps lately, which needed to be given serious attention, but you would never see her being dramatic about it. The only thing she needed was for Gojou to accompany her visits to the OB-GYN, and even then, she never showered herself in self-pity. She carried herself like an independent woman, and that was exactly what Satoru needed in his life right now.
He had a son to raise. He had a company to run. It wasn’t the perfect time to commit himself to someone lawfully. Heck, he didn’t even believe in marriage anymore. He realized that two people could still love each other without getting married. As long as Akemi didn’t pressure him about such things, he was fine with having her around. She didn’t ask for anything much, anyway.
As for you, well…
“What are you planning with that mansion you gifted Y/N?” asked Nanami, seated on the couch inside Satoru’s office, casually reading a newspaper. “Do you even remember that?”
He certainly did. “What about it?” he questioned, idly toying with a pen on his desk. “It’s her property now. She can sell it if she wants.”
Better yet, you should let Sachiro inherit the property someday. His son was already set for a life of privilege having wealthy parents on both sides, but wouldn’t the mansion be a substantial addition to his assets in the future? Satoru couldn’t help but envision the kind of man his son would grow up into. He hoped Sachiro would not inherit his father's immaturity and pettiness but would embody the kindness and altruism of his mother. From a business perspective, however, Satoru planned to groom his son to be a leader, as he was the sole heir to the Gojou Group. Additionally, he would also inherit half of Creston and the entirety of Hearte. No wonder Sachiro was recently listed as the wealthiest kid by Forbes Japan. He even beat Megumi Zen’in from the list even though the teenager was the heir of the Zen’in business empire.
These were the thoughts that should consume Satoru—the future, not the past. His kid, not you. And he was right about doing so, because when he came home to his penthouse, he was told that he had a visitor.
A visitor on a Wednesday afternoon?
Your brother-in-law, the esteemed prosecutor who sent his evil stepmother to jail, appeared on his front door, carrying Sachiro in his arms. It was hard to tell what type of emotions were visible on the man’s face, but he definitely didn’t bring any good news.
“Ian?” Satoru promptly made way for the man to come in, ushering him into the penthouse and allowing him to set Sachiro down. The young boy was quick to dart off to his playroom, leaving the two men in an uncomfortable silence. “What’s going on? Weekends are usually my schedule with Sachi.”
Ian cleared his throat, a hand on his pocket. “Do you mind looking after Sachiro for the time being?”
By saying ‘for the time being’, it seemed like Ian wanted to actually say ‘until further notice.’ But that confused Satoru even more, because what was happening for the man to come here and ask him to let Sachiro stay beyond the agreed schedule with his father? He couldn’t read through Ian’s expression and it was making him uneasy.
“I can, but… why so suddenly?” Gojou asked, glancing at his oblivious son.
“It’s Y/N’s idea, Gen doesn’t know about it.” Ian released an awkward chuckle. “You know how my wife is.”
Gen would absolutely hate it, Satoru was aware for sure. Though the questions lingered in his mind. “Why would Y/N want Sachi to stay with me? Where’s she?”
Was it him or was Ian having a hard time explaining the situation? It felt like he was walking on eggshells, deciding between what had to be said and what shouldn’t. He was careful with his words when he spoke again, “Y/N flew to Monaco this morning and will be back when she’s ready. She says Sachiro should spend all of his time with you while she’s gone.”
Monaco? Why would you be there?
Confusion bathed Satoru’s eyes. “Is it for a fashion event or something?”
“No, she’s just…” Ian struggled heavily. “Well, to sum it up, she has to go there to sort some things out. It’s a personal thing, but she really needs this time for herself and we think it’s the best for her right now. I don’t know how long she’s gonna stay there or when she’ll be back, but I hope you understand what I’m trying to say here.”
No, he didn’t. Satoru found it difficult to fathom his ex-brother-in-law’s words, seeing as he had no general idea of what was truly going on. But if you were flying to Monaco, surely Toji wouldn’t allow you to go there all by yourself?
Ahh. It made sense now. I see what’s happening here.
Satoru’s lips curled into sarcasm. You would be vacationing with the love of your life. Is that what it was? Planning your halted wedding? Choosing wedding gowns? Looking for venues? There was no way you would be flying to Monaco alone, especially without Sachiro around when you two had been inseparable since his birth.
“What kinda mother is she?” Satoru muttered in disgust, unaware that Ian had overheard him. But Ian had heard loud and clear. How could you leave your son behind like this? Couldn’t you face your ex-husband to discuss it, instead of just dropping Sachiro off as if he were some unwanted toy?
“Hold it right there,” Ian interjected, becoming defensive at the accusation. “You have no idea what she’s going through.”
How would he know? No one was telling him shit. No one was giving him details, so did they expect him to understand things and accept them as they were? Did they do the same thing to Satoru when he was at the verge of losing his sanity asking everyone for forgiveness over and over?
“I've never taken sides between you two, Satoru, you know that,” Ian continued, trying to maintain a calm demeanor and speak with clear judgment, “But one thing I’m not gonna let you do is call Y/N a bad mother.”
Satoru’s chest tightened at Ian's words, a mixture of guilt and frustration bubbling up inside him. He knew he shouldn’t have spoken out of turn, but the pain and resentment were too raw to contain. It felt like you were abandoning him and your child, like you were off to a new chapter in your life again, and leaving everything behind. Perhaps this was his trauma from the New York thing crawling back at him, but it definitely reminded him of the day you had abandoned him. For three fucking years. How long would it take you to return now?
Why do you keep doing this? He was sick of it. You kept running away instead of talking to him. He gets it, people change, circumstances change, but couldn’t you at least have the decency to talk to him about it? Was it wrong for him to wish you’d handled this differently? To wish that you’d talked to him, involved him in the decision-making process, instead of just making this unilateral decision and leaving him to pick up the pieces?
Satoru took a moment, collecting his thoughts before continuing. “It’s fine, I’ll take care of Sachi,” he reassured, “I’ll take some time off work and have ‘Kemi help me out.”
He looked back at Ian, his eyes pleading for further details, for answers, for some semblance of clarity in the midst of this emotional turmoil.
Yet none of it was given.
And so, would it still be wrong to assume that he could now completely forget about you? That this opportunity to be with Sachiro would allow him a chance to share it with someone else? If you spent three years of your life playing house in New York with Toji, would it still be unfair for Satoru to do the same with Akemi?
#series: sincerely yours#gojo satoru x reader#gojou satoru x reader#gojo satoru x you#gojo x reader#jjk x reader#gojo angst#jjk angst
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making the bed ❀ s. reid x reader
in which your night crumbles around you, and spencer is happy to pick up the pieces.
pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: hurt/comfort tags: established relationship. (prior) alcohol consumption. reader is semi-drunk (but sobers up). post drinking depression. healthy alcohol information/discussion 🫡 word count: 2.1k a/n: do not read too much into this for you will begin to question why i still enjoy going clubbing. (joke...) 😄 plsss tell me if u liked this or even if u didnt thank u i love uuuuuu
Alcohol is a depressant.
You remembered the God awful lecture your boyfriend had given you when you woke up one Sunday morning with this feeling of existential dread, and nothing to pin it to. A ramble about how alcohol can temporarily increase the body's production of dopamine and serotonin when entering, causing a worse crash of both chemicals when it leaves. Leaving you, evidently, depressed and anxious after a big night.
You knew that.
You also knew how quick you were to seclude within your mind when you were with people. Too many drinks and not enough social interaction tended to lead to your own isolation, sitting on the outer edge of the booth, absentmindedly playing with the charm on the end of your phone.
The room no longer spun the way it had an hour ago. You missed when it spun. When it spun, you weren't thinking about how little you had to contribute to the conversations your friends were having. You weren't tallying up how many drinks you had already drank, then falling flat when you realised you couldn't remember, and that was a thought more horrifying than knowing it was over ten. You were fun, when the room was a carousel.
Now, it's simply overwhelming. Loud chattering from both your table, and the surrounding ones. Clinking of glasses at the bar. A sports game on the television across the room. Balls on a pool table being dispersed for the first time in a game. Dancing feet. Music. People. So many fucking people.
Your phone buzzes against the table, and you pick it up before any of your friends could turn their heads to see where the vibrations were coming from. You figured they were too drunk to conclude it was you, anyways. Or to care.
Spencer had texted you fifteen minutes ago to check in on you, and though it wasn't long ago, you not responding immediately in a flurry of half strung together sentences and emojis was worrying for him. That was probably why his name was now lighting up your screen, a funny photo of him mid-bite of an ice cream as his contact photo, enlarged.
You hadn't responded for no reason other than the fact that you had no will to. Which should've been a big enough red flag to yourself that you should text him, and you should ask if he can pick you up. Thankfully, he loved to prove how well he could read you, and he was calling you anyways.
"Hi," you mumble into the phone, angling your body away from your friends, hand held up to your other ear to block out some of the noise the best you could.
"Hi," he parrots back to you. "You okay?"
An automatic yes manifests on your tongue, but you're quick enough to keep it to yourself before you can lie to him. Instead, you let out a quiet, "No."
He seems to have expected that answer, for he leaves no silence in between your admission and his response. "What can I do to help?" He also seems to be expecting your hesitance at asking him for anything that would require him to move, because he adds, "I can pick you up. Do you want me to pick you up?"
"Yes. Please?"
"I'm already leaving," he tells you, and you can hear his shoes against the wooden floor of his apartment to confirm that. "Did something happen? Are you safe?"
"No, nothing happened. I'm safe," you reassure him. "I started feeling sick so I stopped drinking an hour ago. Now I'm just sad."
"You remember what I told you about it being a depressant?"
"Vividly," you mutter, and while it isn't meant to be funny, you hear him huff a short laugh anyways. It makes you feel a little better.
"It's important to know," he defends. "I'm sorry I shared important information with you."
"Mm."
Your lack of a verbal response was expected, but he still hated the sound of it regardless. You heard him sigh. "I have to hang up now. I'll be there in forty minutes. Will you be okay?"
"Yeah."
"Okay. I love you."
"Love you too."
No matter how much time had passed, your head lifted every time the door — that your group was so conveniently close to — opened, letting in a rush of cool air and sobering you up with every hit of it.
True to his word, Spencer was entering the bar after forty minutes, face scrunching up at the sudden onslaught of noises and visual stimuli. Same boat as you, only he had not a drop of alcohol in his body. At least you weren't crazy about it being overstimulating.
"This is why I don't go to bars," he says once he's approached your booth, and you had stood up next to you, his hand finding an automatic place on your waist.
"It's usually not this bad," you tell him, but he decides not to ask you anything else upon hearing just how exhausted your voice sounds. You're grateful for that.
The goodbye to your friends is quick, Spencer rattling off a lie about him needing you home for he had work early the next morning, and you only had one key to the apartment. Even the friends who knew that wasn't the case didn't comment on it, and you made a pointless mental note to thank them for it later. You knew you wouldn't.
The drive home was even faster. Silence, aside from the rush of the wind from your slightly cracked window as Spencer drove, that helped the sick feeling in your stomach from the alcohol you had consumed.
It didn't seem to help the hollowness of your chest, though.
You weren't sure if anything would, really. A chemical imbalance in your brain — even one as temporary as the deflation from being drunk — was hard to fix without medication. It would go away, yes. But then you would make the mistake of drinking once more, and you would find yourself back in this brain peeling predicament.
You showered alone. Despite Spencer's offer to join you, and your own personal desire for him to be there with you. It didn't help your fogged mind at all, and you were exiting the bathroom feeling like you had retreated further into your bones. Every movement felt clunky, your skin a heavy coat to your skeleton, restricting your movement down to short shuffles and barely lifted arm movements.
He was reading when you reentered your bedroom, and you've never seen him put a book and his glasses back on his bedside table faster. He looked visibly tired. Keeping himself awake a seemingly difficult struggle, that you could feel your body heading towards to as well.
"Hey," he says as you climb into the bed, and he's very patient as you figure out what position you want your bodies in. Head on his chest, but next to him, you had decided on, and his fingers entangled into your hair.
"Hi," you mumble, staring up at the ceiling, counting brush strokes of the paint, as if it were possible to.
"Penny for your thoughts?"
You huff at the phrase, tilting your head upwards so your eyes could land on him. "Do you have a penny?"
He pauses, then angles his head closer towards yours. "Okay, kiss for your thoughts?"
"That'll just distract me."
"Is that what you want?"
You should say no. Arguably the last thing you should be doing when you're sad is let intimacy with your boyfriend distract you. But then again, you're not the best advocate for healthy coping mechanisms anyways.
"Maybe."
"Maybe?" he muses, and his lips brush against yours. Your heart flutters.
"I don't really know what I want," you settle on telling him, honestly. "I want my brain to shut up."
His body deflates beneath you, and you feel guilt chip away up your spine at the killing of the less depressing atmosphere.
"Sorry," you mumble.
"No. It's good. Be honest with me," he reassures you, quietly. His fingers tap at your scalp, "What's going on up here?"
"I'll cry if I try to verbalise it."
"Crying's good for you, you know," he hums.
"I'm pretty sure I still have eyeliner in my waterline. I'll just stain your sheets," you retort.
"Yeah, probably. That's fine."
You're silent for a few moments, gathering your thoughts in your brain the best you could despite yourself, before you sit up, his hand dropping to the bed beside you.
"I just don't like being... here? Out? I don't know. I'm just really sick of being sad every time I drink. Is there something wrong with me? Did you get sad whenever you drank? Everyone else I know loves going out for drinks because they have fun and they're giggly drunks, or they're clingy drunks. And if I drink too much then I'm a fucking sad drunk, and I'm the only person I know that gets that way. I want to be normal."
He's silent your entire rant, and then some, waiting for your heaving chest to slow, having caught the few tears that slipped down your cheeks. You were grateful — you needed that time.
He reaches a hand out, and you let him tug you back down to the bed, slotting your body atop his own, just so he could see you properly.
"To answer your question, no, I didn't get sad when I drank," he says, brushing your hair out of your face, before his hands rest on either side of your face. "But I wasn't really happy, either. I just talked more."
"You already talk a lot."
His lips twitch. "I do. Double whatever you think my worst is, and that was me drunk. Focus on the part where I said I wasn't a happy drunk, please."
"But you weren't sad. So there is something wrong with me."
"No, there's not. Alcohol is a depressant," he punctuates his words with a kiss to your nose, which you gratefully accept despite your emotions. "Are you willing to give up alcohol as a whole?"
"My friends will think I'm boring, then."
He hesitates in his response, but ultimately settles on asking, "Do you think I'm boring because I don't drink?"
"No. Obviously not. And you have a real reason for not drinking, so—"
"—and being sad isn't a real reason to not drink?"
Taken aback by his sudden sternness, you go quiet, breath hitching within your throat. He was right, ultimately. No reason is reason enough. You knew that.
Sensing your discomfort at his tone, he expels a breath of air and lowers his hands down to your hips. His voice drops to something a little less harsh, as he murmurs, "You are allowed to not want to drink alcohol if you don't like the way it makes you feel. If your friends think you're boring for that, then they're not worth it."
You silently nod your head, beginning to curse your emotional regulators. For while you had kept your tears at bay for the vast majority of this conversation, it seemed all it took was the gentle rubbing of circles onto your hip bones, and a fact checked piece of life advice from your boyfriend to make you cry.
"Sorry," you sniffle, dropping your head to the crook of his neck to hide your newly tear stricken face.
"Crying's good for you," he repeats his earlier words, and feels you nod your head. "You don't have to decide tonight. I'd encourage you not to, actually. You're technically still intoxicated."
"I'm sober," you protest, weakly.
"Okay, honey." He's only agreeing with you to wane any further argument. "I don't think your friends will think you're boring, though, if that's any help."
"I don't think they will either."
He nods his head, and you're relaxing against him a little more.
"Are you just trying to not be the only loser who doesn't drink?" you mumble, voice muffled by his skin.
"You've caught me."
He relishes in the laugh that leaves your lips, and he places the gentlest of kisses on the side of your head, which prompts you to lift it to look at him again.
"You're not a loser for not drinking," you say, and his lips pull into a smile.
He leans his head up, brushing his lips against yours, despite the mix of mint toothpaste and alcohol on your tongue. "I know. You wouldn't be either."
"I know."
your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡
#lia’s fics ♡#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid imagine#spencer x reader#spencer x self insert#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds imagine#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid angst#spencer reid hurt/comfort#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x reader hurt/comfort#spencer reid x reader fluff#spencer reid x reader angst#spencer reid comfort#spencer reid x reader comfort#spencer reid x you
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valentine’s prompts; tropes ˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🍊 ꒱
ੈ✩‧₊˚ friends to lovers
¹⁾ “you really planned this?! remind me how you’re single, again?”
²⁾ “thanks for making today a little less depressing.”
³⁾ “has it occurred to you that we’ve spent more valentine’s days with each other than with people we’ve actually been dating?”
⁴⁾ “c’mon, like i need an excuse to spend time with you.”
⁵⁾ “i can’t help but think that this is a little more effort than someone would normally put in for their friend.”
ੈ✩‧₊˚ coworkers to lovers
¹⁾ “if you’re still wondering who left those flowers at your desk, i think i’m ready to put your mind at ease.”
²⁾ “you’re telling me you really have nowhere better to be than here today?”
³⁾ “c’mon, it’s not like haven’t shared a dinner whilst working late before. it doesn’t have to mean anything different just because of the day that’s in it.”
⁴⁾ “someone’s been leaving valentines for me all over the building today, and i’m pretty sure i know who.”
⁵⁾ “i don’t have any plans after work, and i know you haven’t either. how about we keep each other company instead of spending it alone?”
ੈ✩‧₊˚ roommates to lovers
¹⁾ “before you say anything about me being at home tonight, i want to remind you that you are too.”
²⁾ “i thought that since we both had nowhere to be today, we could make a day of it. just ourselves.”
³⁾ “i’m guessing that the fact you’re already home will tell me everything i need to know about how your date went.”
⁴⁾ “wow, someone’s looking good. hot date, or what?”
⁵⁾ “i’m happy i got to spend the day with someone i actually care about.”
ੈ✩‧₊˚ exes to lovers
¹⁾ “don’t tell me; you had so much fun with me last year, that you just couldn’t resist spending it with me again.”
²⁾ “wow, you really don’t have anyone special in your life at the minute.”
³⁾ “ i wanted to treat you how i should’ve before.”
⁴⁾ “you really thought i wouldn’t remember what you like? please, give me a little credit.”
⁵⁾ “maybe if things had gone like this every year, we wouldn’t have ended up the way we did.”
ੈ✩‧₊˚ secret relationship
¹⁾ “are you telling me we can’t do anything to mark the day?”
²⁾ “i understand if you don’t want to, but i wanted to tell you that i planned a few things for us today.”
³⁾ “it’s so much less than what you deserve, but it’s all i could think to do given the circumstances.”
⁴⁾ “and here i was, expecting just an anonymous bunch of flowers.”
⁵⁾ “i couldn’t think of a better night to show everyone how in love with you i am.”
#prompts#valentines prompts#valentine's day prompts#valentine's day#prompt list#writing prompts#writing exercise#fluff prompts#dialogue prompts#soft prompts#otp prompts#fluff writing prompts#friends to lovers#friends to lovers prompts#coworkers to lovers#coworkers to lovers prompts#roommates to lovers#roommates to lovers prompts#exes to lovers#exes to lovers prompts#secret relationship#secret relationship prompts
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curiosity killed the cat.
pairing: regulus black x reader.
song inspiration: late night talking by harry styles.
author's note: i've been in such a writing rut lately, but sweet baby boy reggie is singlehandedly bringing me out of it. this idea has been floating in my mind for a while so I hope you all enjoy it. <3
Curiosity killed the cat.
The irony of the phrase wasn’t entirely lost on Regulus as he cautiously peered through the bustling kitchen. The elves were cleaning up after supper, humming and working diligently to keep the castle in order behind the scenes. Some of them leaned down to reach for him with soapy fingers, but he narrowly avoided each attempt, baring his teeth in warning.
They would not deter him from his true mission to infiltrate the basement. Having explored all the nooks and crannies Hogwarts had to offer, the Hufflepuff common room was his Atlantis—the last unexplored territory that he had yet to set foot in.
In his current state, it was perhaps more accurate to say that Regulus had never set paw in this corner of the castle. Most of the time, he found his spontaneous transformations terribly inconvenient, but as Regulus slipped past the door without a trace, the youngest Black brother was suddenly grateful for his complete lack of mastery over his Animagus form.
To be fair, he was only trying to find some peace and quiet. As of late, Regulus had become particularly fond of the kitchens. It was always warm down here and the smell of freshly baked bread wafted from the ovens and beckoned him towards its glorious scent like a beacon. Not to mention the fact that the elves often left a bowl of cold milk for him every night.
Well, he supposed it wasn’t exactly for him. At least, not his true human form. The elves were not fond of Regulus the person, but they did adore the feral black cat that haunted the halls of Hogwarts.
Potato, potato.
The point is, that his benevolent caretakers were typically careful about securing the ever mysterious door at the end of his little haven. Lest he get his wily little paws all over those timid badgers. Much to his delight, the security measure was not in place tonight. The door was wide open, presenting Regulus with an offer that was simply too good to pass up.
With a shimmy, he slinked behind enemy lines. Despite being located in the lower levels of the castle like the dungeons were, the Hufflepuff common room was far more welcoming. Instead of gothic furnishings and depressing color palettes, Regulus was greeted with warm earth tones and mismatched furniture. Plants of all shapes and sizes littered the room, which were far more pleasant to look upon than the haughty portraits that lined his own common room. At least the mimbulus in the corner didn’t sputter out rather unnecessary comments about the length of his curls every time he entered the dungeons.
The Hufflepuffs seemed averse to the menacing lighting that his fellow serpents seemed so fond of, choosing instead to illuminate their space with enchanted sun lamps. It was charming and cozy, if one were to take notice of such things. Malfoy would have deemed it greenhouse chic with a sneer that conveyed aristocratic distaste. For that reason alone, Regulus decided he liked the place.
The growing fondness was solidified as he followed the intoxicating scent of banana nut muffins. The trail led him to a dorm tucked away into the heart of the basement. Luckily for Regulus, the door was slightly ajar, which was more than enough permission for him to venture inside and make himself comfortable. It was the standard issue room—two beds, two desks, and two dressers. Yet the right side drew his attention.
The top of the nightstand was brimming with books, all stacked in no particular order. The color scheme of the blankets and pillows consisted of golds, pinks, and oranges, reminding Regulus of the sunset. Fairy lights and enchanted plants provided a lived in feel, which was more than he could say for his obsessively neat dorm with its alphabetically arranged library and utilitarian furniture. Everything in his room was designed with practicality instead of comfort in mind. A choice he was rather proud of until the stark contrast made his space feel cold and rigid in comparison.
The reading nook nestled beside the hearth drew him in like a moth to a flame. Regulus inspected the cloud chair, stomping on the soft woven blanket and plush pillows with his paw before coming to the conclusion that it was as good a place as any to burrow.
This was the life, he said. Or purred, if he was being technical.
As Regulus enjoyed the comforts of his newfound paradise, he failed to consider the fact that this dorm belonged to someone and that someone would likely be back any second to reclaim their refuge, given the late hour. Engrossed as he was with licking his paws, Regulus startled when the door swung open. Instantly, he recognized the owner of the dorm as the shy and quiet Hufflepuff that sat beside him in Charms. Regulus lifted a paw to his furry head, feeling foolish that he had not connected the dots earlier.
No wonder the banana muffin scent drew him in. Every now and then, he caught a whiff of it in class when you quietly claimed the spot beside him. The colorful scrunchies on the dresser also sparked his memory. How many times had Regulus witnessed you twisting the hair tie around your wrist as you quietly murmured the correct answers to Professor Flitwick’s questions under your breath? It never made much sense to him that you would allow the others to blatter and stutter through topics you were clearly an expert on, but Regulus attributed that to his proximity to pompous know-it-all pricks all his life. Slytherins were known to be showoffs, but you seemed to be the complete opposite.
Perhaps that was the reason why he stayed. Well, that and the fact that he was currently too comfortable to even dream of leaving his sanctuary. Really, the decision was made for him. Regulus watched as you settled into your desk, studying diligently as your quill flew across the parchment. Every so often, you leaned back against the chair and stared at whatever problem eluded you as though intimidating the parchment would bring forth the correct answer. It was rather endearing. Dare he say, charming.
In his mind, only minutes had passed since the start of your silent companionship, but a glance at the clock said otherwise. It was nearly midnight at this rate. As Regulus grumbled about his inevitable separation from the comfy cloud couch, a group of girls spilled into the room. They briefly said hello to you before gathering at the vanity table on the left side of the room. Regulus assumed one of them was your roommate. Probably the dark haired girl chattering on about the party the Gryffindors were hosting tonight.
“Do you think Cormac will be there?” she asked hopefully.
The other girls nodded in agreement, asking questions about the older boy with misplaced enthusiasm. Regulus wrinkled his nose. McLaggen, really? Your roommate truly needed to raise her standards. He glanced over in your direction, snorting as he caught the tail end of your grimace. Clearly, you weren’t a fan either.
After the girls were satisfied with their appearances, your roommate sauntered over to your desk with a friendly smile. “Would you like to come to the party with us, Y/N?”
Before you could answer, one of the other girls rudely interrupted. “Oh no, Y/N doesn’t go to parties. She’s too shy.”
Regulus vaguely recognized the annoyingly nasally tone of the speaker. He thought her name was Brandy or Brenda. Whichever one it was, she always hung around the quidditch team batting her eyelashes and laughing in an exaggerated way that bordered on deranged. It deeply irritated Regulus.
“Isn’t that right, Y/N? Our little bookworm only prefers the company of her novels. No chance of embarrassing yourself in front of boys when they’re just words on paper.”
“That’s mean, Britt,” scolded your roommate.
Regulus very much wanted to scamper across the room and bite Britt’s ankles. He lifted his head up as you stood, mentally encouraging you to even the score by chucking a tome at that horrid girl’s head, but instead you simply smoothed down the front of your gingham dress and smiled.
“Thanks for the offer, Mina, but I think I’ll stay in tonight. You girls have fun though.”
The others were more than happy to flee the awkward tension in the room. You bid them goodbye at the door before closing it behind you. As it clicked into place, you released a sigh. Regulus tracked your movements as you swiped a book from the teetering tower on your nightstand before collapsing into bed.
“God, what’s wrong with me?” You whispered softly to yourself. “It’s Friday night. I should be going out and partying, but instead I’m wallowing alone. No wonder everyone thinks I’m just a boring bookworm.”
Regulus voiced his disagreement. Unfortunately for him, the words came out as a series of meows. He blended in amongst the blankets, his whiskers barely peeking out from a distance. Unaware of his presence, you yelped at the strange cat peering at you from the reading nook. The noise startled Regulus, causing him to launch across the room and into the bed.
“Oh, it’s just you.” You sat upright, cocking your head at him. Your fingers twitched at your side, probably itching to pet him. You restrained yourself, respecting his general aversion to humans. “If you’re here to bring me bad luck, then I’m sorry to say that I’ve got enough of that on my own already.”
In protest, Regulus attempted to headbutt your hand, but it only resulted in an unintentional nuzzle. You chuckled in amusement before carefully patting his furry head. He dodged your hand and swiped at your leg, but the padding motions quickly turned to him just making biscuits on your thigh.
You chuckled in response. “Hm, everyone says you’re a mean kitty, but I think you’re just a little misunderstood.” Regulus huffed, but his displeasure was short lived as you scratched under his chin. He was only slightly embarrassed at how eager he was to receive more. “Look at us, we make quite the pair.”
At that, Regulus purred in agreement.
From that night forward, Regulus became a frequent visitor. He hadn’t intended on making a habit of it, but every time Regulus accidentally transformed, he found himself in your dorm. It wasn’t his fault that it was warm and toasty and smelled like pastries. If you weren’t trying to attract a feral cat, you shouldn’t have made your room so inviting.
During one of his visits, your roommate walked by and yelped at the sight of him. Regulus lifted his chin up in challenge as he claimed his rightful seat on your lap. “Is that the feral cat that almost took off Cedric’s fingers?”
Regulus purred in answer. He was rather proud of that moment. Would’ve gotten away with it too had it not been for Diggory’s quick reflexes.
You barely looked up from your book as you combed through his fur. “Mhm. He likes to follow me around sometimes. He’s like my little shadow.” A bright smile curved against your lips. “Oh, I think we found you a name. Shadow.”
From then on, Regulus wore the name like a badge. The name seemed to awaken more of his animal instincts because his spontaneous transformations became a rather frequent occurrence. At the beginning, they were isolated to nights and thus easier to manage, but now his Animagus form seemed to have no respect for convenience. As of late, the transformations were happening more and more often with absolutely no rhyme or reason.
The only common denominator seemed to be you. Every time Regulus was in his Animagus form, he sought you out. Whether he was interrupting Potions class to jump in your lap or resting next to you in the courtyard while you read, Regulus was resigned to the fact that he would end up in your proximity one way or another. He basked in the attention you showered him with, shamelessly nuzzling against your hand for more chin scratches and cuddles. It became a routine for the two of you. Most nights, you read in silence as he curled against you for warmth, but other nights, your inner monologue spilled out and he listened to you grapple with your shyness and anxiety.
Funny, you didn’t seem all that reserved around him. But then again he had taken on the form of a grumpy yet harmless cat. You were none the wiser that Regulus Black was currently purring for more pets as you lamented over the events of the day. He listened intently, not quite understanding your desire to become more sociable. You seemed to view it as a deficiency, but Regulus had always leaned towards the extremities of introvertedness. Though in his case, no one batted an eye when he was abrupt and abrasive. It was just how he was.
Hufflepuffs, on the other hand, were expected to be sunshine and butterflies. You were, Regulus thought. In your own quiet way, you radiated joy. It wasn’t loud or obnoxious or overbearing. It was just right. Regulus longed to tell you just as much, but it wasn’t like he was in a position to. Outside these late night talks, the two of you hardly spoke a word to one another.
Perhaps it was time to change that.
The first time Regulus tried to speak to you was a complete and utter disaster.
It was bright and early on a Monday morning. You slipped into your seat a few minutes before the start of Charms. The two of you were always the first ones in class, so he figured it was an opportune time to strike up a conversation without overwhelming you.
“How was your weekend?”
You blinked up at him, surveying the room covertly as though you weren’t quite sure that he was speaking to you. Regulus watched you flush as you realized that he was indeed addressing the question to you.
“It was good,” you responded cautiously. “How was yours?”
Regulus paused. “It was…fine.”
Never in his life had he wanted to swan dive into the Black Lake and become fodder for the merpeople. The response was a natural conversation killer, but he couldn’t very well tell you that he spent the entire weekend lounging in your dorm as you read Pride and Prejudice for the umpteenth time. That little revelation probably would’ve resulted in a restraining order.
The short and awkward dialogue made him cringe internally, but you simply smiled politely at him. For Salazar’s sake, where was the basilisk when Regulus needed it?
When lunch came around, he was still pondering the less than lackluster encounter. Regulus needed to find a way in. As his friends chattered and chatted, he stared intently across the Great Hall and watched you. Things were so much easier when you thought he was a cat.
“Reg, mate, you haven’t blinked for like five minutes. You’re really starting to freak me out.”
The annoying little quip from Nott brought Regulus out of his stupor. Had he truly been staring for that long? He hoped to Godric that you hadn’t caught him being an utter creep. A sly glance told him that you were none the wiser as you continued chatting with Luna Lovegood and Ginny Weasley. He turned to Theodore and frowned.
“What are you staring at, anyways?” asked Mattheo. The curly headed git surveyed the room for the object of his friend’s focus, which only made Regulus more irate.
“Nothing,” Regulus mumbled.
Riddle, ever the menace, grinned as he spotted you. “Doesn’t look like nothing to me.”
He elbowed Theo, who smirked once he too caught sight of you. “Say, Reggie, don’t you have Charms with that cute little Hufflepuff?”
“Shut it, Nott.”
“Whoa, a little touchy there, aren’t we? No need to fret. I won’t turn my Italian charms on her. After all, I wouldn’t dare go after one of my mate’s crushes.”
Regulus bristled. “I do not have a crush.”
“Sure, mate, and I’m Harry bloody Potter,” scoffed Mattheo. “You’re not fooling anyone, you know.”
“Does this conversation have a purpose besides showcasing your remarkable skill of grating my nerves?”
“Aw, Reggie’s upset.” Mattheo and Theodore chuckled as Regulus stood abruptly. He flung the napkin onto his plate and walked off without explanation. “Don’t worry, mate. We won’t tell anyone about your secret girlfriend.”
Unfortunately for Regulus, the childish teasing gained traction over the next few days. Trust Nott and Riddle to be a general nuisance to his everyday life. Every time you walked past Regulus in the halls, his friends (debatable as of late) would nudge him and smirk. Given that Mattheo and Theo possessed the subtlety of a bull in a china shop, you were definitely beginning to notice.
Even worse, Lorenzo had taken it upon himself to chat you up in the courtyard. Regulus looked on in horror as his best friend laughed and gesticulated alongside you on the bench. His presence had not gone unnoticed by their fellow classmates. A crowd of Hufflepuffs began crowding near your usual spot under the willow tree and Regulus could easily spot the tell-tale signs of your anxiety blooming. He needed to put an end to this.
“Berkshire, can I talk to you for a second?”
Lorenzo appeared completely unbothered as he nodded. “Sure, just let me wrap up here. Reg, you’ve met Y/N, right? She was kind enough to lend me notes for History of Magic.”
You looked up and gave Regulus a shy wave. The desire to throttle Lorenzo diminished by a few notches. “Sorry about him. Berkshire’s a bit overeager. Not fully trained, you see.”
His friend protested the accusation. “Hey, I’m standing right here!”
Regulus ignored his protests. Lorenzo might as well have been halfway across the world with how little attention he paid to his friend. He was far too busy being enamored with the way you tried to bite back a grin.
“Thank you for indulging him. I’ll make sure he doesn’t go off leash again.”
You chuckled. “It’s alright, really. I’ve got a habit of attracting strays.”
“Where is that little monster of yours, anyways? Busy clawing off some unsuspecting student’s face?” Lorenzo quipped.
“Shadow isn’t so bad. He’s actually very sweet, once you get to know him.”
Regulus tried not to grin.
Lorenzo shot him a knowing look. “Sounds like someone else I know.”
Regulus rolled his eyes. “Sorry again about him. I’ll make sure he returns your notes.” He tugged Lorenzo by the collar. “Now let’s go, Berkshire. We’re going to be late for practice.”
“Bye, Y/N!” Lorenzo called over his shoulder. “Don’t be a stranger.”
“Bye, Lorenzo,” you said with an amused smile. “I’ll see you in class, Regulus.”
Regulus couldn’t help but smile. “See you in class, Y/N.”
Thanks to his meddlesome friends, Regulus kept finding himself in less than ideal situations. The twats seemed determined to force you two together. Lorenzo, most of all.
Every time they studied in the library, you seemed to conveniently be seated a few desks away. Every time they were walking back from quidditch practice, you coincidentally seemed to be headed to the greenhouse. Every time Lorenzo fetched something in his locker, you just so happened to be walking by between classes.
It was during one of these times that Regulus overheard Britt making snippy little comments about your dresses and bows, commenting on how you were always lost in your books, even citing the fact that the feral cat had taken a liking to you because birds of a feather flock together. Your roommate defended you, but she was a lone voice amongst the other mindless girls who laughed along with Britt. The next time Regulus ran into her in his cat form, he made sure to hiss and claw at her.
In terms of finding his way in, Regulus had yet to crack the code. When it was just you and your Shadow, you spoke to him for hours and hours. But when he was actually himself, you were so quiet and reserved.
“Why don’t you just talk to her?” Lorenzo offered.
The glare Regulus cut his way was sharper than a splicing spell. “I’ve tried, but I’m terrible at it. I asked her about the weather, Enzo. The bloody weather!”
To his credit, Lorenzo didn’t laugh. Instead, he seemed deep in thought. “You’ve got to find out what she’s passionate about. What’s something that she could talk about for hours and hours?”
Regulus bolted out of his chair, startling Lorenzo. “You’re a genius, Berkshire.”
His friend looked utterly confused. “Thanks, I suppose?”
Half an hour later, Regulus found himself standing in a labyrinth. Plot Twist, the largest bookstore in the village, was as magical as you described it to be. Each aisle was filled to the brim with books, the shelves winding and twisting in on itself to reveal even more volumes. Soft classical music played throughout the shop, its interior filled with kitschy trinkets and illuminated by enchanted candles.
If Regulus recalled correctly, the latest installment of your favorite series just recently released. You mentioned it to Ginny in the Great Hall last week while he lounged on your lap. Was it ethical to eavesdrop on your conversations and use the information he gleaned to grow closer to you? Perhaps not, but he couldn’t help it. Cunning was in his nature. There was a reason Regulus was sorted into Slytherin, after all.
So here he was on a Friday afternoon, looking absolutely engrossed in the romance section of the bookstore. Regulus picked up a novel from the display. One of your favorites, of course.
From the corner of his eye, Regulus glimpsed your entrance into the store. Naturally, you were headed in his direction since romance was your preferred guilty pleasure. He pretended to skim through the summary despite the fact that he already read the book in its entirety. When you were reading it back in your dorm, you blushed so much that he had to see what the fuss was about for himself.
“Oh, that’s a really good one,” you said shyly.
“Yeah?” Regulus asked, noting the pretty flush dusting your cheeks. “Have you read it before?”
“About a thousand times.”
“What’s the verdict, then? Would you recommend it to me?”
You cocked your head in observation, taking him in. Regulus was acutely aware that he didn’t fit the usual demographic of romance novel readers. Hell, even his all black ensemble clashed with the vibrant book covers.
“I know, I know. I have the looks of someone who would rather binge murder mysteries, but I’m trying to branch out.”
The grin you gave him made his heart stutter. “Well, I’d be more than happy to be your guide.”
Regulus had no idea why he hadn’t realized it sooner. Books—that was the gateway to your heart. He listened in fascination as you pulled books from the shelves, talking a mile a minute about your favorite authors, characters, and tropes. You lit up the entire room as you spoke, filling the place with your infectious energy. He had only ever seen you this way in the comfort of your own dorm, so he relished in the fact that he was witnessing this not as Shadow but as Regulus.
“Oh my god, I’ve been rambling. I’m so sorry. Once I start, I just can’t seem to stop.”
He smiled softly. Regulus could have listened to you talk about books for the rest of his life and never grow bored. “I don’t want you to stop. I like that you’re so passionate. It’s adorable.”
Suddenly, Regulus wished he had a camera because the sight of you smiling up at him was a memory that needed to be captured and immortalized. For now, he settled for its dizzying aftereffects.
“Thank you for letting me talk your ear off,” you said shyly as the two of you made your way to the counter.
“No, thank you for helping me expand my horizons.” Regulus countered as he set both of your books down.
You started to fish for your wallet, but Regulus simply waved you off. “Please, let me.” The shopkeeper gaped at him. “Would you mind putting everything on my tab?”
“Of course, Mr. Black.”
“Regulus is fine.”
“Sure thing Mr.—I mean, Regulus.”
As the shopkeeper carefully packed up the books, Regulus leaned in. “You can call me Reg, if you’d like. Reggie, if you’re feeling particularly brave.”
You beamed. “Thank you, Reggie.”
“You’re welcome, Y/N.”
The Monday after the breakthrough, Regulus marched into Charms with purpose. You glanced up in amusement as he settled into his seat.
“You were right. Your recommendations were fantastic. I read it all in one sitting.”
“Which one?” you asked curiously.
Back at the bookstore, you had gotten a little overzealous with the recommendations, but at the end, you managed to narrow it down to your absolute top picks.
“All of them.”
Your jaw nearly dropped. “You read all of them?”
Regulus shrugged as if it were no big deal. “Yes.”
“Every single book?”
“Mhm.”
“But I gave you six recommendations,” you stated incredulously. You considered yourself a voracious reader, but Regulus Black was giving you a run for your money.
“And I devoured every single one.”
As it turns out, that was all it took to unlock the floodgates. Soon your conversations flourished from books and literature to hobbies and future plans. Regulus could tell that you were warming up to him. The conversations that were once isolated to the Charms classroom flowed easily outside of it as well.
The first few times you were spotted together, it turned a few heads.
Regulus had never been particularly known for his sociability, so he supposed it was a rather strange sight for everyone else to find him practically glued to your side. Never mind that he’d done it a hundred times before as your Shadow and no one ever said a word about it back then. As he spotted you in your usual spot under the willow tree, he found that he really didn’t give a damn what anyone else thought of your newfound friendship.
“Is this seat taken?”
You nodded as you moved your belongings to make room for him. “Yes, by you.”
Regulus dropped his backpack by his feet before stretching his long legs out on the wooden bench. You watched in amusement as the wood creaked under his weight. “I prefer to be horizontal when I read. You don’t mind, do you?”
“Knock yourself out, Mr. Black.”
“That’s Regulus to you, love.”
“I thought it was Reg.”
“Actually, I prefer Reggie. But only if it’s being used by you.”
“Okay, Reggie.”
He couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corner of his lips.
Despite spending time with you during the day, Regulus still made his visits in the night. He truly just couldn’t get enough. Thanks to his questionable methods, you were starting to open up to him more. Just that morning, the two of you ate breakfast together in the Great Hall. You teased him for eating such a bland meal.
“Honestly, Regulus. We attend a magical school. You could ask for anything your little heart desires and you choose to eat gruel?”
“It’s not gruel. It’s oatmeal.”
“My point exactly.”
“What’s wrong with oatmeal?”
“Nothing, I suppose. If you prefer eating cement for breakfast.”
“You’re awfully judgmental. Let’s take a closer look at your choices. A chocolate chip muffin? You might as well swallow a spoonful of sugar and call it a day.”
“My apologies, Mr. Black. I forgot that you abhor flavor. Shall we share your cement goop, then?”
“After you insulted my culinary preferences? I think not, Y/N.”
Needless to say, the two of you got along like a house on fire. Both of your friends constantly teased you about the newfound friendship. Regulus simply rolled his eyes and brushed off the comments, but even his mates noticed the way he smiled every time you were mentioned. You knew your friends were bursting at the seams with questions regarding Regulus, but to their credit, Ginny and Luna were happy seeing you happy.
Not everyone shared their enthusiasm though. Britt, in particular, was rather cross. It made no sense that someone like you would catch the attention of Regulus Black. She had harbored a crush on the youngest Black since third year and he could barely even spare her a glance, yet here you were receiving his full and undivided attention. Britt was seething with jealousy. She simply could not accept losing to you, of all people.
Perhaps you dosed Regulus with a love potion. Perhaps he pitied you, viewed you as some wounded animal to save. Either way, Britt was convinced that Regulus wasn’t meant to be with someone like you. A shy and quiet girl who could never hope to hold his attention for long. She just had to make Regulus see it. The perfect opportunity presented itself one Friday afternoon.
In the crowded hall, Regulus shielded you from the incoming traffic of students rushing to their next class. It wasn’t much of an effort on his part since your fellow classmates cowered and parted as soon as they caught sight of your companion’s scowl.
“Reggie, could you try not to scare the first years away?” You teased, bumping your hip against his. “Poor Anderson looked ready to cry when you glared at him.”
Regulus bumped you back. “He nearly stepped on your foot.”
“Did that really warrant you threatening to hide bullfrogs underneath his pillows?”
“You’re right, I’ve gone soft. I should’ve threatened him with fire serpents instead.”
“You’re hopeless, Regulus.”
Regulus placed a hand over his heart, feigning hurt. “You wound me, ma chérie.”
The nickname made you flush. Regulus had never been more thankful that French was his native tongue. The language of love certainly had its effect on you.
“However will you live?”
“I’ll tell you what, if you come keep me company tonight, then all will be forgiven.”
“I’m not helping you sneak bullfrogs into Anderson’s dorm.”
He pouted in response. “Fine. I suppose we can have a quiet night in. Come join the dark side. We can read together in the common room.”
“The dungeons?” You asked apprehensively.
Though you’ve gotten used to the occasional Slytherin greeting you in the halls, the whole lot of them still terrified you. You weren’t quite sure how you felt about marching right into the serpent’s nest.
“It’ll just be us,” Regulus added softly. “I’ll make sure of it.”
The way he eased your worries was endearing. You bumped his hip again. “You can’t just kick people out of their own common room.”
“I’m Regulus Black,” he said haughtily. “Of course I can.” Regulus draped an arm over your shoulder and leaned in to whisper conspiratorially. “Come on, I know you’re dying to read that new novel you bought last weekend.”
You rolled your eyes affectionately. He knew you too well. “You mean, the novel that you bought me. Against my will, thank you very much. I will pay you back.” Regulus started protesting, but you only held your hand up. “You’re right, though. I’m convinced. I’ll bring the snacks. Chocolate frogs for me and a bowl of gruel for you.”
You yelped as Regulus dug his fingers into your side. “It’s a date, love.”
Regulus paced back and forth, watching the door to the dungeons. To say he was nervous would’ve been an understatement.
As soon as classes were dismissed for the day, Regulus wasted no time. He raced back to the common room and made sure everything was perfect. The boys were taking the piss out of him, but he paid no mind to them as he fluffed the pillows and draped a blanket over the couch.
“Ooh, what type of candle is this?” Theo asked as he wrapped his grimy little fingers around the banana nut muffin scented candle.
Regulus smacked his friend’s hand away. “Don’t touch that.”
Mattheo snickered as he took in the scene before him. “You must really like this girl, Reg. I don’t think I’ve ever put in this much effort for a date.”
“Yeah, and how’s that working out for you?” Regulus snipped. Blaise and Pansy snorted in response.
Lorenzo bit back a smile. “I think it’s nice. Y/N will love it.”
“You think so?” Regulus asked absentmindedly. He wanted to make sure everything was perfect. The dungeons were a far cry from your dorm, but Regulus did his best to emulate the comfort it provided. “It’s not too much?”
“It’s a bit…cozy for my taste,” said Draco. Regulus fought the urge to throttle his cousin. To be fair, Draco hated anything that wasn’t French or expensive. “But I’m sure your girl will love it.”
“She’s not my girl,” Regulus corrected. “Not yet, at least.”
Tom shot a disinterested glance at him from the couch. “What on earth are you waiting for? You’ve been pining over her for months. Your yearning is starting to sicken me.”
Mattheo grimaced. “I think that’s Tom’s way of encouraging you to make a move.”
“Consider me encouraged,” Regulus said with an eye roll. “Now everyone get out.”
As his friends filtered out, Lorenzo patted him on the back. “Good luck, mate.”
Luck had nothing to do with it. Regulus refused to take his chances on such a finicky thing. He was far too resourceful to leave things up to chance. Instead, he compiled everything he’s learned about you to ensure that you wouldn’t feel overwhelmed.
At exactly six o’clock on the dot, Regulus opened the door to the dungeons. He smiled when he found you standing in the corridor, fidgeting with the hem of your sunflower dress. You clutched your book to your chest as he stepped through the threshold.
“Hi, Reg,” you greeted shyly.
“Hi, love.” Regulus offered his arm, which you gladly took. “Come on in.”
You weren’t sure what to expect at first, but you found the dungeons to be quite cozy. The waves from the Black Lake gently lapped against the stained glass windows, the murky waters shimmering across the onyx floors. The furnishings were all dark wood and harsh lines with pops of emerald tying everything together. The velvet couch was piled with pillows and candles illuminated the space, providing a warmth and coziness that you never would’ve attributed to the dungeons.
“This is quite lovely,” you said softly.
Regulus took your bag from you and set it gently on the marble side table. “I’m glad you think so.”
“Where’s everyone else?”
“Out,” Regulus responded. “If they’re smart, they’ll stay that way.”
You chuckled. “I guess it pays to be mean and scary.”
“To everyone else, yes.” Regulus said as he guided you over to the couch. “Not to you, though.”
The sentiment made you smile. “Well, big scary Reggie, thank you for inviting me over. As promised, I came bearing snacks.”
As you laid out a treasure trove of treats, Regulus watched with an amused smile. “For Salazar’s sake, I’m getting a cavity just looking at all of this candy.”
You grinned as you waved a sour gummy worm in the air. “But it’s good, though.” Regulus backed away from the neon colored candy with a grimace. “Come on, Reg. Try it.”
“No, thank you.”
“Please,” you pleaded, poking his cheek with the worm. “Just one little nibble. I know you want to.”
“You’re a terrible influence,” he sighed defeatedly.
Regulus leaned over, his lips brushing against your fingers as he took a small bite. You flushed furiously, heat prickling your skin as his emerald gaze pierced through you. From this close, you could make out the golden flecks swimming in his irises.
“It’s a bit sweet,” Regulus murmured. His eyes never left yours as he held your wrist in place, devouring what was left of the sour worm. “But I’ve grown an appetite for sweet things lately.”
Regulus licked flecks of sugar off of his lips, smirking when he caught you staring. You cleared your throat, eager to diffuse whatever tension was brewing between you. He tracked your movements as you retrieved your book and daintily perched yourself on the couch.
“Shall we?”
A comfortable silence befell the common room, broken only by the lulling crash of the waves against the windows. It baffled you how at ease you were in the dungeons. Usually, it took a bit of time for you to adjust to new environments, but something about this place seemed familiar. You felt safe here, thanks to the boy sitting beside you.
As you curled up on the sofa, Regulus assumed his position. He scooted towards you, placing his head on your lap and stretching his long legs out until they touched the other end of the couch. With a smile, you peered at him as he nuzzled against your free hand. Regulus sighed in satisfaction when you ran your fingers through his curls. The action reminded you of your little Shadow.
You had no idea how you hadn’t realized it sooner, but the two of them were similar in a lot of ways. They were both standoffish and prickly on the outside, but complete softies on the inside. The thought made you chuckle.
“What’s so funny?” Regulus murmured. Despite the fact that the two of you were supposed to be reading, his book remained perched on his stomach while his eyes fluttered close.
“It’s just hard to reconcile grumpy Regulus to the Regulus that practically begs for his head to be scratched.”
Regulus scoffed. “I do not beg.”
You placed your hand back in your lap. Regulus furrowed his brows as he glanced up at you. With a soft nudge to your side and a matching pout to boot, he single handedly proved your point. “Why’d you stop?”
The pointed look you gave him made Regulus flush. “Fine, I suppose I’m not above begging.”
You raised a brow, which only made him sigh in defeat. Regulus lifted your hand and placed it back atop his curls. “Please?”
“Only because you asked nicely, Reggie.”
The rest of the evening was blissfully peaceful as the two of you continued reading. Well, you were reading. Regulus, on the other hand, hadn’t even cracked open his book. You could feel the intensity of his gaze boring into you while you pretended to be engrossed in your novel.
“Do I have something on my face?” You asked self-consciously.
“No.”
“Then why are you staring?”
Regulus sat upright and faced you, his emerald eyes locking onto yours. His expression was soft as he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, knuckles brushing along your jaw.
“Because you’re beautiful.”
The air left your lungs as Regulus beheld you. The calluses on his thumb stroked your skin as he caressed your cheek. You shivered at his touch, at his scent, at his closeness. Regulus was like poetry come to life. A work of art that moved and breathed and mesmerized everyone around him. If anyone was beautiful, it was him.
“Reggie…”
The words died in your throat when Regulus brushed his thumb over your lips. “Y/N…”
Little by little, the gap closed between you. Anticipation swelled in the room, enveloping everything with unspoken tension. You felt like a harp string pulled taut, waiting for release. Just as Regulus tilted your head back, a loud smack echoed through the dungeons.
You nearly jumped out of your seat, but Regulus shielded you behind him, keeping you close. A stream of people made their way through the common room, trampling the once serene atmosphere. The commotion from earlier seemed to be coming from the large keg that Adrian Pucey was now rolling across the stone floor. The other Slythering began clearing the furniture, chattering excitedly amongst themselves.
Regulus was incensed. “What the fuck is going on?”
One by one, his friends streamed in. Blaise was the first to squeeze through the crowd. “Common room party, apparently. We ran here to warn you, but they were already rolling the kegs through the corridor before we caught up.”
Theodore and Mattheo pushed their way through a couple of fourth years. At their complaint, the two boys glared at them so intensely that they slowly started to back away.
“The fuck are you looking at?” Mattheo barked.
“Are you deaf or just thick? Get fucking lost, mate,” Theo added menacingly.
You flinched at the display of aggression. Regulus clocked the reaction and pulled you closer before frowning at his friends. Theodore elbowed Mattheo when he caught sight of you, who in turn elbowed Theodore back.
“Sorry about that, Y/N.” Theodore drawled, his Italian accent seeping through the words. “We didn’t see you there. Usually, we’re more well-behaved in the presence of a lady.”
“That’s a lie,” Pansy interjected. “You’re horrid around me all the time.”
“I’ve known you since we were in diapers, Pans. You’re certainly not a lady,” Theodore quipped.
“Why, you little twat—”
“Guys,” Regulus scolded.
Pansy stopped in her tracks, sighing as she put her hand down after landing a smack on the back of Theodore’s head. She offered her hand. “Right. Well, this isn’t how we thought our first introduction would go, but it’s nice to finally meet the infamous Y/N. Regulus talks about you all the time.”
You flushed as you took Pansy’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you too, Pansy.”
“Me next,” Theodore exclaimed. “Theodore Nott, at your service.”
The floppy haired boy bowed cheekily before taking your hand in his and kissing your knuckles. Regulus glared daggers at his friend, but you merely giggled in amusement.
“Move, Nott. It’s my turn now.” Mattheo smacked Theodore away and enveloped you into a hug. “Mattheo, the most handsome Riddle. Although don’t tell my brother that. He might hex me. Anyways, nice to meet you." He paused, sniffing your hair unabashedly. "Oh! Reg is right. You do smell nice.”
“Riddle,” warned Regulus.
Mattheo only winked at you before stepping aside. You exchanged introductions with Blaise and Draco next until Lorenzo caught up with the rest of the group. He gave you a warm hug before explaining that someone had printed out posters promoting a party that none of the Slytherins had any clue about. Of course, it didn’t take much convincing on his housemates' part before they jumped on the bandwagon, hence the packed common room.
“I’m so sorry,” Regulus said as he turned over to face you. “ I didn’t know any of this was happening.”
Worry marred his beautiful face. Though the situation was a little more than overwhelming, you didn’t want Regulus worrying on your behalf. It was touching, truly. But you could try to push through it.
“It’s okay, Reg. I’m fine, really.”
“We can leave,” he offered. “Find somewhere more quiet.”
“Already?” Mattheo asked, pouting. “But we haven’t even played butterbeer pong yet! Dibs on Y/N as my partner.”
“No fair! I was going to ask her,” Theodore said, shoving Mattheo. His curly headed friend shoved back, which only escalated into Theodore putting him into a headlock. You shook your head in amusement.
“Sorry to disappoint, but I have no idea how to play butterbeer pong.”
Mattheo slithered out of Theodore’s hold and beamed. “Oh, it’s easy. You just arrange a bunch of cups into a pyramid and then take turns shooting ping pong balls into them. Surely, you’ve handled balls before, right?”
The double meaning was not lost on the group. Regulus tensed, charging up to smack Mattheo into next week for the inappropriate joke, but your response stopped him in his tracks.
“I have,” you said softly. “Have you? Because it doesn’t seem like it from the way you kept missing the goalposts during the game last week.”
Mattheo gaped in shock before bursting into laughter. “Oh, she’s a keeper.”
“You’re lucky Y/N found that funny,” Regulus said to his friend. “Otherwise, I would’ve twisted your intestines into a bow for her.”
“Taking a page out of my brother’s book, I see,” Mattheo taunted.
“Is this a bad time to ask if you’ve ever had a body shot, Y/N?” Theo asked with feigned innocence. “If not, I’m more than willing to show you.”
Regulus reeled back and smacked Theo on the head while the rest of the group cackled. Theo rubbed the sore spot and grumbled. “A simple no would have sufficed.”
The more time you spent around them, the less intimidating they became. From what you gleaned, they seemed to be a tight knit group. It wasn’t at all what you expected from the Slytherins.
“Your friends are silly,” you whispered to Regulus as the group migrated to the couch.
In the background, Mattheo and Theodore bickered over who drank the last of the firewhisky while Lorenzo wiped the back of his mouth and burped. He winked when he caught your eye, charging you with keeping his secret.
“They’re idiots,” Regulus scoffed. His tone was contrasted by the softness in his eyes as he watched his friends muck about. “But they’re family.”
Throughout the night, you didn’t miss the way that Regulus fussed over you. He was a constant presence by your side, attuned and attentive to every need. When you felt parched, Regulus was there to offer you a drink. When you felt cold, Regulus draped his jacket over you without you needing to ask. He checked in with you often, making sure his obnoxious friends weren’t offending you and ensuring that the attention wasn’t too overwhelming to handle.
You assured him that you were fine. In fact, you were surprised to realize that you were enjoying yourself. It was a lot easier to deal with your social anxiety when you had someone there to ground you.
The Slytherins were a rather social bunch. Pansy was thrilled at the prospect of having another girl join the group. Within thirty minutes, she had talked you into going to Hogsmeade with her next weekend. She wanted a break from the boys, she said. But she also made it known that she expected a full rundown of the situation between you and Regulus.
Draco and Blaise were very clearly eavesdropping, despite their efforts to appear nonchalant. Apparently, everyone was as invested in your pairing as Pansy was. Theodore and Mattheo didn’t even try to hide the fact that they were talking Regulus up. When Mattheo declared that Regulus rescued an injured baby bird and nursed it back to health, you nearly lost it. Regulus hated birds.
“You’re an idiot,” Regulus exclaimed.
“No, let him talk. I want to hear all about it. What kind of bird was it, Mattheo?”
“Uh…the kind with wings?”
Lorenzo shook his head. “Really, mate? That’s the best you could come up with?”
The group continued their bantering as you watched in fascination. Their dynamic fascinated you. They bickered like siblings, but you could tell that they would go to the end of the world for one another. You could see why Regulus thought of them as family.
“Feeling okay?” Regulus asked, nudging you with his hip.
“Mhm,” you responded, bumping him back. “Thanks for inviting me over.”
“This isn’t what I had in mind when I did,” Regulus said. “But I’m still glad you came.”
“Of course, I had to see you in your natural habitat. I didn’t know you were such a party animal, Reggie.”
He grabbed hold of your waist and leaned down to whisper in your ear. “I preferred when the party was just you and me.”
You flushed, pitching forward to hide your face behind a curtain of hair. “I did, too.”
“When everyone leaves, I intend on picking up where we left off. You should know that I’m not the type of man who leaves things unfinished, love.”
There was no hiding the blush that blossomed on your cheeks. Crimson colored your features even as you excused yourself to the bathroom. As you washed your hands in the sink, you studied your reflection. While you would always feel the lingering social anxiety that came from being in large crowds, you thought that tonight was going fairly well. With a smile, you made your return back to the Regulus.
“I don’t know who you’re fooling, Y/N.” Britt sneered at you as she leaned against the wall, a cigarette held haphazardly between her neon painted fingers.
You frowned. “What are you talking about, Britt?”
“Regulus may have fallen for your shy and sweet little act, but he’ll get sick and tired of you dragging him down sooner or later.”
A lump formed in the pit of your stomach. Though it was no secret that Britt wasn’t exactly a fan of yours, you hadn’t expected her to say such hurtful things. Even worse, she touched a nerve with her words.
Britt nodded pointedly towards the crowd. “Look at him. He can’t even enjoy himself without worrying about poor, helpless little Y/N.”
Regulus towered over everyone, cutting an imposing figure in the middle of the room. His eyes darted through the crowd, seemingly searching for someone. Perhaps it was the reality of seeing the worry in his features, his half-distracted responses to whatever Lorenzo was saying as he stood stoic, unable to partake in conversation because he was too busy looking for you. Worrying about you. However horrid Britt was, you realized that there was merit to her words.
The last thing you wanted was to hold Regulus back. You didn’t want him worrying about babysitting you instead of having fun with his friends, which is exactly what he was doing now. The thought made you sad. Sure, Regulus was fine with catering to your needs now, but he was bound to tire of it sooner or later. You didn’t want to find out how long it would take.
You didn’t want to be a burden to anyone. Most of all, Regulus.
Without a word, you passed by Britt and weaved your way through the room. You stuck to the alcoves, passing beneath its shadowy refuge until the door came to view. Only a few steps stood between you and your escape when a low, stern voice stopped you in your tracks.
“Y/N,” said Tom Riddle. “Leaving early, are we?”
“Oh, hi there Tom,” you mumbled, casting your gaze towards the floor. You were afraid that you’d cry if you stayed in the dungeons a second longer. “M’just not feeling very well.”
You could feel his observant gaze sweeping over you. “I imagined you wouldn’t after encountering that hag outside of the bathroom.”
“You saw that?” You asked in a small, defeated voice.
Finally, you deigned to look up and found Tom staring at you. As always, the eldest Riddle was cold and stoic, but there was something in his gaze that conveyed concern.
“Yes, and I heard it too.”
“Please, can you—can you just not tell Reggie?”
Tom’s expression was imperceptible besides his curt nod. “If that’s what you prefer. I’ll let him know you left early because you weren’t feeling well.”
“Thank you, Tom.”
You bid him a good night before reaching for the door. Behind you, Tom cleared his throat.
“For the record, that hag doesn’t know what she’s talking about. You’re not dragging Regulus down. If anything, you’ve made the twat more tolerable over these past few weeks.”
Before you could respond, Tom was gone. You barely caught a glimpse of his back as he climbed the stairs that led to the dormitories. The parting surprised you, but you figured that Tom probably just felt bad for witnessing the conversation between you and Britt.
Casting a last glance towards the common room, you spotted Regulus once again.
Softly, you whispered, “Bye, Reggie.”
Once you were back in your dorm, you showered and decided to turn in for the night. It was just a few minutes shy of midnight as you tossed and turned in bed. Your roommate was most likely still at the party, leaving you to ponder your thoughts alone. There was an air of restlessness in the room as you stared up at the ceiling and considered your predicament.
No matter which way you looked at it, there was only one solution. You had to end your friendship with Regulus.
The thought filled you with overwhelming sadness. Letting go of Regulus made you feel so isolated and alone, but you knew it was the right thing to do. As though sensing your need for comfort, Shadow slinked through your door and hopped right into your lap. The black cat stared up at you with knowing eyes and meowed.
“At least I can count on you to always keep me company,” you murmured softly as you scratched under Shadow’s chin. “It’s been a rough night.”
Shadow bumped his head against your hip, seemingly telling you to stop feeling sorry for yourself.
“Britt is right, Shadow,” you confessed. “I’m just not the type of girl Regulus should be with.”
The cat bumped you again, stomping his feet on the bed in frustration. Shadow gave you a rather argumentative meow.
“Oh, don’t give me that. We both know it’s true. Reggie is Reggie and I’m…well, I’m me.”
Shadow hissed in response, demanding your attention. You sighed as you pulled the cat into your lap. “It’s a shame,” you whispered against his dark fur. “I really like him.”
To your surprise, Shadow purred softly and cuddled against your side. Though the feral little cat had taken a liking to you and your dorm, Shadow was always usually gone in the morning. Tonight though, the cat curled up next to you as though it knew that this was what you needed.
“Good night, Shadow.”
Regulus knew it was reckless.
But after Tom informed him of your sudden illness, suspicion rose in him like a tide. Even if you weren’t feeling well, it wasn’t like you to leave so abruptly, which meant that something was definitely wrong. All of his suspicions were confirmed when he got to your dorm.
It broke his heart to hear you say that you weren’t right for him. How could such a thought even cross your mind? There had never been anyone more perfect to him than you. Didn’t you know that you were the first person Regulus looked for in a room full of people? Couldn’t you tell how head over heels he was for you? His sweet, sassy, shy, sunshine of a Hufflepuff. There was no one better.
Certainly not Britt. Regulus was well aware of the crush she had on him. At first, he simply ignored it. He had absolutely no interest in someone as foul and loathsome as that girl, but now that she had come after you, Regulus had half a mind to sink his teeth and claws into her ankles until he drew blood.
At the moment, his plot for revenge was set aside as he focused on comforting you. Up until this point, Regulus had always been careful not to fall asleep in your dorm because he never knew when he was going to switch back, but tonight, he was willing to risk it. He didn’t know if this would be the last time you ever spoke to him given what you confessed earlier.
Perhaps it was selfish of him, but he didn’t want the night to end. Regulus wasn't ready to face the prospect of you ending things, so he snuggled into your side and fell asleep to the sound of your heartbeat.
It was a choice that would certainly have its consequences in the morning.
The first thing that woke him up was not the sunlight streaming through your windows or the chirping of the birds, but instead your surprised yelp. Regulus blinked sleepily, rubbing his paw against his snout, but instead bumped his hand into his nose.
This was not good.
This was definitely not good.
You were on the other side of the bed, blankets pulled up over your chin as you stared at him in disbelief.
“Reggie? What—what are you doing here?”
Regulus was an idiot. A stupid, careless idiot.
But none of that mattered now.
“Don’t end our friendship.”
You reeled back in surprise. “I—what—what’s even happening—”
“Don’t end our friendship,” Regulus said once more. “Fuck, it’s not even a friendship. You and I both know it’s so much more than that.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I’m not going to get bored of you. Never in a million years would I ever get bored of you. In the months that I’ve gotten to know you, not once have I ever stopped feeling drawn in. I want to know everything about you, Y/N. Even though you tell me everything without realizing it, I still want to know more. I want to listen to you talk about your books and hold your hand when you’re overwhelmed and follow you all around the castle like I’ve been doing all along.”
You were speechless as Regulus continued. “Tom told me that you weren’t feeling well last night. I knew it was a lie, so I had to come and see for myself. I had to make sure you were okay, even if you didn’t know it was me.” He sighed, closing his eyes. “But then you said you wanted to end our friendship and I just—I was selfish. I should’ve gone back to my dorm, but I didn’t know if last night was the last time you’d ever speak to me and I just couldn’t bring myself to leave.”
Realization dawned over you. Pieces of the puzzle started clicking into place. “You’re—you—you’ve been Shadow this whole time?”
Regulus nodded guiltily. “I understand if you’re angry with me, but please know that I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I found your dorm by accident that first night and I don’t know. I just kept coming back. You just kept drawing me back.”
He bowed his head and ran a hand through his curls. “I realize you might hate me after this, but you have been the best part of my day since I accidentally stumbled into your dorm and I think—no, I know that I’ve fallen for you.”
You blinked in disbelief, still processing his confession. “So you’ve been…you this whole time? You knew everything I’ve ever said to Shadow. You listened to me vent and rant, thinking I was just talking to a cat.” You paused as something niggled at your brain. “When we first ran into each other at the bookstore, did you already know I was going to be there?”
Regulus didn't deny it. “I did. I also already read all of the books on your shelves in advance on the off chance that you might mention it in class. I didn't really need help in charms, that was just an excuse to spend more time with you and I...I bought the same candles and blankets you like so you'd be comfortable in the common room. I learned all of that by listening to you, by spying on you, and I'm sorry. I’m so fucking sorry —"
His apology was cut short as you surged forward to kiss him. Regulus was stunned for a moment as your lips met, but it didn’t take long for him to reciprocate. One arm slid around your waist to pull you closer while the other cradled your cheek. His kisses were hungry, like he was a man awaiting the gallows and you were his final meal. It was full of passion, the longing and yearning evident as he gorged himself on the taste of you.
Coming up for air, Regulus finally opened his pretty emerald eyes and looked at you. His gaze pierced through your skin, raw and vulnerable. “You’re not mad at me?”
“Are you kidding? That’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me.” Regulus sighed in relief, pressing his forehead against yours. “Plus, how can I be mad when you make such a cute little kitty?”
Regulus laughed, the sweet, melodious sound filling the room. You brushed his curls back and grinned. “For the record, I’ve fallen for you too.”
“That’s a relief. My friends have been pestering me on finally making a move for months. Pansy cornered me last night and lectured me on asking you to be my girlfriend before you realize that you’re too good for me.”
“I think I like Pansy.”
“Don’t tell her that,” Regulus groaned. “She’ll definitely try to steal you away from me.”
“I don’t think you’ll have any trouble with that.”
“Good, I don’t want Parkinson getting any ideas about running off with my girlfriend.”
You raised a brow. “Oh, I’m your girlfriend now?”
“Girlfriend. Love of my life. Apple of my eye. Take your pick, mon cœur.”
“I’ll take all of the above, boyfriend.”
Later that morning, after much cuddling and kissing, you and Regulus finally decided to head to the Great Hall for breakfast. You smiled as he held your hand, bumping your hip as the two of you walked through the corridors. It was strange how at ease you felt. You were vaguely aware of the eyes that trailed your every move, but they quickly blended into the background when Regulus pulled you close and kissed your cheek.
Luna and Ginny perked up at the sight of you, surprise marring their faces when they spotted Regulus at your side. Their eyebrows raised to the skies, pointedly staring at your linked fingers.
Later, you mouthed. You had a hell of a lot of explaining to do, but your friends merely smiled and nodded.
“Finally,” Pansy announced exasperatedly. She patted the seat next to her as you shyly slipped in. “I was beginning to think that we’d have to scheme to get the two of you together.”
“No need,” you said with a smile. “I think we took care of that on our own.”
Regulus smiled and nuzzled against your shoulder. The boys flashed him shit-eating grins, but he didn’t seem to notice. “Stop scaring my girlfriend away, Pans.”
“Oh, is it girlfriend now? It’s about time. I’ve only listened to you pine and yearn for months.”
“Excuse her,” Blaise said. “She’s just happy to have another girl in the group.”
“Damn right I am. I’m tired of spending so much time with you heathens.” Pansy patted your shoulder. “I hope you’re in the market for new friends, because you’re not getting rid of me now. My first act of friendship will be to determine whether or not to hex that little trollop for glaring at you. Do you know that girl, Y/N?”
You turned and found Britt frowning at you with her arms crossed. “It’s alright, Pansy. She’s not worth it.”
At the same moment, Tom sauntered through the aisles. Once he reached Britt, he cut her a glare that would paralyze a basilisk. She cowered back and made a hasty retreat.
Tom merely continued walking before taking a seat next to Mattheo. “So, that hag, “ he says in a no-nonsense tone. “Would you like me to take care of her?”
You glanced at the group in concern. “What exactly does taking care of her mean?”
Mattheo’s curly head popped up from his plate. “Oh, he means he’ll feed her to his snake.”
You laughed at the jest, but Tom remained stone-faced. He was obviously just kidding. Right?
“He’s dead serious,” Theo added. “I’ve seen him do it before.”
With a gulp, you turned back to Tom. “That won’t be necessary, Tom. Please don’t feed Britt to your snake.”
Tom shrugged as though you were discussing the weather. “Suit yourself.”
When everyone returned to their morning banter, you turned to Regulus. “What have I gotten myself into?”
Regulus smiled and pecked your lips. “You know, I considered clawing her ankles off, but I think Tom’s way will be much quicker.”
“Regulus Black.” You scolded, though it wasn’t entirely convincing given the grin you were biting back.
“It’s Reggie to you, love.” You stared at him pointedly, which only made him sigh dramatically. “Fine, Tom’s snake will not have a new snack, but only because I have a saint for a girlfriend.”
“And I have a devious little sinner for a boyfriend.”
Regulus smirked. “I’ll make sure to worship at your altar for penance.”
You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help but blush as Regulus laid his head down on your shoulder once more. You ran your fingers through his curls, smiling to yourself when he let out a satisfied hum that sounded awfully close to a purr.
#he's so cute my little black cat baby boy#regulus black#regulus black x reader#regulus black x you#regulus black fic
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Hazbin Hotel Characters:
Forgetting an anniversary
A/N: This is my first time doing anything like this, so if anybody wants to see more, feel free to ask! The Hazbin brain rot is real—
Warnings‼️: Established relationship, character x reader, fluff, but also some angst?, swearing, gender neutral!reader, mentions of alcohol.
Not really proofread
I didn’t mean to write that much for Alastor but here we are—
Lucifer:
To be fair this guy is the literal KING of hell, (the devil from, THE BIBLE) so to say he’s a busy man is an understatement.
This dude is also MAD depressed making him constantly disassociate, so he’s prone for losing track of what day it is.
You kind of figure he’s forgotten the day is coming up when he’s not hyperfixated on it.
For birthdays, planned dates, special occasions, this man usually goes ALL out.
He tries to keep what he has planned secret, but he’s usually bouncing off the walls the days before, and ends up letting his plans slip.
So when he’s not talking your ear off the day before your anniversary, you suspect the date might’ve slipped his mind.
When the day of your anniversary comes along and you’re not woken up with kisses and cuddles, possibly breakfast in bed, you KNOW your partner has forgotten.
However, you don’t tell him or remind him of the date. Since your partner had a busy day ahead, you didn’t want to force him to focus on you when there much more important things to be settled.
You kind of wallow in your own self pity, while you wait for Lucifer to return to the castle.
Lucifer had plenty of things scheduled for the day, but he can’t shake the feeling that he IS forgetting something.
(And he is)
He checks his schedule, triple checks he didn’t miss any meetings, makes sure he has his lucky duck in his suit pocket.
All seems well. But he still can’t shake the feeling that he’s forgetting something.
It’s not until he gets home later in the evening and SEES you, that he remembers the date.
This man is ON HIS KNEES, profusely apologizing to you. The king of hell is practically begging for your forgiveness.
“Why didn’t you tell me?? You’re more important than some stupid meetings! I’m so sorry, I won’t let this happen again.”
Despite if you say it’s alright, he calls off anything he has scheduled for the next week. Treating you to the prettiest and fanciest places every inch of the pride ring has to offer.
This man usually goes all out for your guys’ dates and such, but this is extravagant. He’s treating you like the royalty you are to hopefully become. (If he ever gets the gall to ask you-)
Vox:
Similar to Lucifer, but even worse in the sense of his schedule is ALWAYS booked. It’s not easy being the face of all tech in the Pride Ring.
This man gets ZERO days off, working 8-12 hour days depending on what’s going on.
He’s got meetings, interviews, paperwork, you name it. This man might as well be the living embodiment of stress.
The thing he usually looks forward to is going home to you. Finally being able to relax and rant about his day.
(Finally able to stop his fake ass smile that’s usually imprinted on his face)
So when he gets home to find you already in bed, fast asleep when you usually would stay up and wait for him, he’s a little peeved.
He tries to be understanding, not really knowing what you might’ve done in the day. Perhaps it could’ve exhausted you. Or maybe you were feeling under the weather.
He then almost throws a full blown hissy fit when he sees blanket and pillow on the couch
A silent demand from you that he is to sleep there for the night.
His screen glitches in silent rage, as he grumbles to himself about how childish you were being for no apparent reason.
The two of you had obviously gotten into fights/arguments, mostly about his work schedule.
But it was rare that those arguments wouldn’t end in the two of you talking it out and ending the night in a cuddle session to make it up to each other.
(Vox refuses to really apologize for his work, his pride won’t let him apologize for something he doesn’t think he did wrong.)
Vox kind of accepts your demand, not wanting to piss you off more. You could talk about it with him tomorrow.
Vox wakes up early the day after your anniversary, going to work as usual. Velvette is getting him in ready in a new suit she designed. While she’s getting him ready she asks;
“So how was your night? Did you have anything planned?”
“Uhh.. what? Planned for what?”
“Wasn’t yesterday your anniversary?”
“….Fuuu-huh-huuuck”
He ditches his morning broadcast, instead heading towards his monitor room. When he sees you’re awake, and on your phone, he makes his face appear on the small screen.
Which scares the shit out of you— he usually gave some sort of warning when he was going to just appear on your device.
By the look on his face, you can tell he now knows the reason you made him sleep on the couch. You give him a look in return, waiting for his excuse.
And just by the look on your face, he can tell you’re not willing to hear any bullshit he has to spit about his work being a priority.
His screen glitches in a slight panic, as he’s sort of loss for words at first. He could tell you were angry, and he knew only he was responsible for causing that.
To your surprise, he actually apologizes, saying how there was no excuse for his absence and your guys’ special day.
He reassures you it won’t happen again, telling you how he still loves you. He has you pick any place of your choice for the two of you to go to dinner tonight.
(He hacks into the system to be put on the reservation list)
Anything to somewhat make it up to one of the only souls that truly understands him in this miserable afterlife.
Alastor:
He’s not as busy of a man as Vox or Lucifer, but he’s not very big on celebrations like birthdays or anniversaries.
You’re his and he is yours, you both don’t need to prove that to anyone.
But…..it would feel nice to at least acknowledge the stepping stones in your guys’ relationship.
Alastor doesn’t really understand the hints you drop when mentioning your guys’ anniversary.
He definitely knows the date is coming, but once the day arrives, he treats it like it’s just any other day.
He notices your mood is less cheery than any normal day, but doesn’t connect the dots that it’s because of HIS behavior.
(What could he have POSSIBLY done wrong??)
He instead tries to cheer you up by poking fun at you the entire day. Calling you little names like “grouch, stick in the mud, drag”.
Insisting that you wipe that frown off your face and replace it with a similar smile to his own permanent one.
He unknowingly rocks the boat with his behavior, only making your mood turn more sour.
Before he can even continue his banter for the last half of the day, you’re ignoring him. Not giving any excuse to him either, you’re just walking away from him.
He makes fun of your bitter mood? You didn’t hear it.
He asks you a question? Your conversation with Charlie is more important.
He tries to hold your hand or embrace you? You suddenly have something totally necessary to get done on the opposite side of the hotel.
You are determined to push all of his buttons just as he had unknowingly done to you.
And this absolutely gets under his skin.
Alastor is one for control, he needs to know everything, he needs to be in charge of situations. Why you were being so stubborn, this man is CLUELESS. And that irritates him to no end.
Tensions are high in the hotel, with a very grumpy radio demon and his other half who refuses to sooth his anger.
Night falls on Hell painfully slow, as you just want this whole day to disappear and never return. You sit at the bar, swirling around the liquid in your glass.
Husk knew better than to pry at you and your annoyance towards your significant other. He instead kept your glass filled, and offered you a soft smile.
You’re slightly buzzed when your source of annoyance sits in the bar stool right next to you. You feel Alastor’s gaze on you, but you keep your eyes on your drink.
You feel static prick at your skin, making the hair on your arms rise from the chill. You hear the crackle of a very peeved radio demon sitting beside you.
Who did you think you were?? Ignoring someone like him! You were his lover and you were treating him like he meant nothing to you.
(At least that’s what it felt like)
The overlord beside you finally snaps, his voice toned heavily with radio static, his eyes darkening with dial pupils.
“What is with this behavior, 𝙈̳̎𝙮̳̎ 𝙙̳̎𝙚̳̎𝙖̳̎𝙧̳̎? What could possibly be your excuse for such immature actions towards me?”
Maybe it’s because you’re slightly buzzed from one too many drinks, maybe your emotions had been building up way too quickly from your irritation, maybe you felt guilty for treating your S/O like spoiled leftovers all day.
But as you look towards Alastor, observing his anger, your eyes suddenly well up with big crocodile tears, threatening to spill if you even dare to blink.
Alastor notices your expression soften and watches some unwanted tears slip down your face. There’s literally a record scratch as he just watches you desperately try and hide your face from him.
His eyes soften back to their normal red hue and he feels his harsh smile crack at the edges.
(If he could frown, he absolutely would seeing as you were so hurt by his actions.)
He’s quick to comfort you, pulling you in and whispering comforting words. Shooting a glare at Husk to leave the two of you alone and to not speak a word of this to anybody.
The two of you talk out your feelings about the day. You admit how you felt a bit abandoned by his lack of acknowledgement for the date.
He promises to you that for your next anniversary, because he knows you will always be his, he will make sure to make you feel as special as you truly are to him.
#hazbin x you#hazbin x reader#hazbin hotel#hazbin vox#hazbin alastor#hazbin lucifer#character x reader#vox x reader#alastor x reader#lucifer x reader#vox#lucifer morningstar#alastor
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They always understood the assignment, we just didn’t get it.
So I had a massive realization about Peni Parker after watching ATSV. Originally many were mad that she was super different in her movie debut which I get going from her clear Eva inspiration to just being anime.
When she briefly appears in “Across” she looks more accurate. (just being depressed)
A lot would think that she’s now gonna stay like this to fix their error but if you get to the end of the film...
Her smile and drive restored. Why is that?
Cause they were never trying to make her Eva, she was based on Gurren Lagann the whole time. Her jacket being made up of Simon’s color scheme inverted. She even LITERALLY wears it on her sleeve. Like they really wanted to make sure we got it this time.
Look at the mech when you put them side by side. But this isn’t even the kicker...
She’s doing the iconic Gainax pose at the end of the film. On top of her mech with something loose to epically flow in the wind. *chefs kiss* Yes she’s crossing her arms I went frame by frame.
The reason I like this is cause in mecha the protag always goes through depressing stuff. That’s what Eva is built around. So by taking her in that direction she’s now a love letter to genre, Eva being included in there rather than being the only thing referenced.
Also with this knowledge the Spot looking kinda similar all of a sudden...
Wait it’s all Gurren Lagann? Always has been. With that in mind, you know what that means with him right around the corner.
TL;DR: Peni was a reference to Gurren Lagann the whole time which is just a love letter to everything mecha.
THEY UNDERSTOOD THE ASSIGNMENT SO HARD, WE JUST DIDN’T GET IT.
#across the spider-verse spoilers#spider-man: across the spider-verse#across the spiderverse#peni parker#into the spider verse#spider-verse#sp//dr#tengen toppa gurren lagan#gurren lagann#gainax#mecha anime
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Last, Last Time
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader (she/her pronouns)
WC: ~7.3k
TW: Angst, guns, violence, mentions of domestic violence, blood, swearing, depression, kidnapping, manipulation, self-deprecating thoughts, heartbreak, arguing, the grieving process, drinking, screaming, crying, sobbing, throwing up, being under pressure, and anything else that comes with a criminal minds episode.
a/n: based on S15 E6 - first date. I love u aubrey plaza <3. Also inspired by the song Last, Last Time by Boys Go To Jupitar. writing this was a little bit of a catharsis since it's one of the first things I've been able to write. I'm sorry I've been so m.i.a., i just moved to a new country and that has been a crazy experience. But to cope with that, enjoy some gut-wrenching angst!
Alternate Ending! Spencer Masterlist
“Spencer I won’t—I can’t keep doing this. I’m sick of arguing in circles.”
“Y/n…”
“I-I feel like you take me for fucking granted Spencer. All I do is work and then come home and wait for you to actually be able to, I don’t know, sleep in the same bed as me for more than four hours.”
The look in his eyes almost took you out but your heart had already been broken long, long before this argument. If anything, you were starting to feel this sense of freedom as you broke his heart.
“Please. Y/n. Just–I don’t—Just give me a few days to convince Hotch to let me have some time off and we can work on this please.”
“Wait for the potential of us?”
Spencer’s jaw loosened. You couldn’t read beyond the initial layer of pain and confusion, which made your chest ache since not too long ago you could have been able to find everything you needed in his expression.
“God Spencer this can’t be fucking news to you. We’ve been drifting apart for months now.”
“I know, I know. You have been so patient with me and I’ve just been….there was that whole thing with Cat and then….I-I was trying so hard y/n…”
“No, first there was that whole thing with Maeve.”
“That’s not fair—”
“Oh that’s not fair? Really? You’re going to tell me the entire Maeve thing isn’t fair to you?”
“I’m sorry.”
You sighed and closed your eyes. “I’m not saying you weren’t trying but come one Spencer. There’s no need to deny this shit anymore. I hate it when you lie to me about these kinds of things.”
Spencer’s hand came up to his face and it dragged down, aging him significantly with the fatigue written all over his face.
“So you’re just going to pack up everything, break my heart, and leave? Were you even going to say goodbye, or was I going to come home to an empty home. A note or....”
“I-I don’t know Spencer. I just don’t��”
The tears were starting to creep in, and you had to place the box down before you lost it.
“This isn’t easy for me either…” Your chest heaved.
The both of you stood in silence, tension simmering surrounding the both of you like heat on a summer’s eve. Neither of you could really look at one another, but it felt wrong to look at anything else. Something was missing but you couldn’t say it outloud. You knew you would always love Spencer Reid but this time it was not enough.
“I’m tired of arguing Spencer.”
Your eyes met his. You felt Spencer’s arms around you before you could even feel the tears hit your cheeks. Your arms immediately went to his neck, so familiar. No longer home.
Spencer’s voice muttered into your ear. “Don’t cry Jolie. It’ll be okay..”
About three years ago, Spencer had decided that he didn’t like that you had nicknames for him, and he had none for you. He spent weeks workshopping different ones : Sugar, Honey, Pumpkin, Sweetheart, Darlin, Pookie, Lover, Sunny (like sunshine), Sunshine—it was a wild few weeks trying to figure out who he was talking to. Then one day, offhandedly, he was trying to tell you about this french film he had been watching, and trying to get Emily to watch with him.
He called you ‘tres jolie’, and blushing you had asked him what it meant. He told you it meant pretty.
And it stuck.
Now? It stung.
All you could do was squeeze tightly onto him, not ready to let go.
“You’re so pretty when you’re lying through your teeth.” You whispered after a few moments, pulling away out of his arms.
“I.” You swallow and step back, out of his reach. “Maybe I’ll...”
Spencer just looked up at the ceiling, trying to hold in the tears that were streaming down his face.
You grabbed the last box on the counter and your keys, and walked out, for the last time.
You awoke in your bed, eyes adjusting to the complete darkness the blackout curtains provided you.
Another fucking night thinking about your decision those four years ago, and how your life may have gotten better because of it.
Moving to get up from the bed, you decided to leave the curtains closed for now, feeling as if you could melt from the sun touching you.
You turned on the bathroom light and started your morning routine. Wash face. Take meds. Brush teeth. Fix hair—
Somewhere in that process, you got lost, and just stared at yourself in the mirror. You weren’t sure for how long. All you could do was replay the last four years.
Did you make the right choice? You were happy, you had your dream job.
Maybe it was true what they say, you can only have a career or love, but not both—
The only thing taking you out of this spiral was the ringer on your phone going off.
This caused some hesitation because your phone’s ringer was always off––the loud noise startling you. There were only a few people who had that emergency bypass, and none of them had called you in four years.
You peaked out of the bathroom and saw the name light up on your phone.
Emily Prentiss
______________________________________________________________
The door to the round room opened up and in walked Spencer Reid. “Catch me up.”
Prentiss clicked the remote, and the TV lit up with a picture of a woman smirking facing the camera while holding a gun up to another one next to her. “Early this morning, Garcia got an email from an anonymous server.”
The second woman was tied up, mouth slightly open, and eyes filled with tears, while a man on the other side just had his eyes closed, tired. .
Spencer just stared at the photo.
Rossi nodded at the picture. “She's not obscuring her face, telling us she's got nothing to hide.”
He never pulled focus away from the screen, mouth dry at the thought of what today was going to be. “Any ideas on the unsub?”
“No.” Prentiss sighed. “Only the unsub's demand. That we release Catherine Adams in 24 hours. I'm having her transferred here for questioning, but we have no illusions. This is just a game to her. We know that. The question is, do we want to play it or not?”
______________________________________________________________
Receiving a call from the FBI was not entirely new to you, since you had been engaged to one of their agents, but receiving one now? Weird. Off brand. Something was deeply wrong from them to have to give you a call.
You hesitantly pick up the phone. “Hello?”
“Hey Y/n, it’s Emily Prentiss—“
“I know who you are, Emily. It’s been a couple years, not millions.”
Emily hummed a brief laugh, and you could hear other voices behind her, unable to make out anything.
“I know this is hard to ask of you, but would you stay on the phone with me and come in?”
“What?”
“I need you to stay very calm Y/n, but I need you to stay on the line with me, leave your apartment as soon as you can, and get to the BAU.”
“Oh my god I totally forgot. It might take me an hour to get there with all this bullshit traffic, could we push the reservation an hour? Would they be willing to do that?”
Your entire tone changed, having remembered what Spencer had told you all those years ago about if people were listening into your apartment, if they bugged your car—all paranoia that didn’t pay off then, might be paying off now.
You were sure you could hear Emily sigh, and it sounded a little upset at the fact that you knew what to do–you knew how to handle a dangerous situation, which made her question everything in her life.
Quickly you pulled on a pair of jeans and threw a sweatshirt over your pajama top and grabbed your keys off of the counter.
You left your apartment, waved to one of your neighbors, and hopped into your car, still on the line, just trying not to panic. Maybe something went wrong, maybe Spencer wasn’t okay, maybe he had died—you refused to even acknowledge that thought and decided it was something else entirely.
It was a very tense hour of driving, that was only about forty minutes since you knew how to drive above the speed limit.
You realized that it was past midday, and you had taken full advantage of the weekend. So at least you had a decent amount of sleep under your belt for what felt like the beginning of an extraneous night.
As you pulled into the parking garage, Emily Prentiss and someone you had never met before were standing there waiting for you. You placed your car in park, hopped out and walked up to them–only hanging up as soon as you were out of the car.
Both of them had such grim looks on their faces, but at least they were trying to pretend like the situation wasn’t as bad as it appeared to your face.
Emily engulfed you in a hug. “Missed you Y/n. It’s been too long.”
“Well Em, next time I end an engagement with someone I’ll consider your feelings first.” You squeezed him back, dryly laughing at your own joke. At least it caused Emily to snort.
“Y/n this is SSA Luke Alvez. Luke, this is Y/n Y/l/n.”
“It’s nice to meet you.” He gave a small smile and nodded at you.
“I wish it were under different circumstances.” You nodded back and looked over at Emily.
“Let’s head inside?”
The three of you moved inside.
Sure, you hadn’t been here in a while, but you knew your way around the BAU Bullpen if your life depended on it, which was ironic since that was what this feels like.
As soon as you were safely in their round table room, Luke shut the door, and stood by it, Emily coming and sitting down next to you.
“What do you know about Cat Adams?”
That bitch.
______________________________________________________________
“I would like to go on a date. With you.”
Spencer stared at her, face stoic as ever. “A date?”
“Yes. I want to look pretty. And I want to have fun.” She looked him up and down. “And I won't even get physical, ok? Unless you want me to.”
Spencer sat down across from her. “Come here. Closer.”
Cat leaned in, a small smile on her face, absolutely intoxicated by being so close to him.
“The only date that I'll be there for is the one where they stick a needle in your vein.”
Cat scoffed. “You're just going to let her father and sister die? I don't think so.”
“I never said it was a father and daughter. You're already slipping.” He stood up from the table. “We'll find them. We always do.”
Cat leaned back and crossed her arms. “Not tonight. Tonight I win.”
His resolution had yet to change, “The score between me and you is two to zero. By tomorrow morning, it'll be a clean sweep. Enjoy eternal nothingness. It's a metaphor for your life.”
And with that, the door slammed shut behind him.
______________________________________________________________
Both the profilers watched a series of emotions run rampant across your face, before you settled on a somewhat displeased smile. “A lot.”
They exchanged a look, and you didn’t have the energy to pretend like you didn’t know what it was.
“Don’t start with me you two. I know profiling. I know what you’re doing. Ask me the questions you want to ask. Don’t try and trick me into giving the answers you want.”
Alvez bit his tongue and looked away, trying to hide a small smile that appeared on his lips.
Emily, on the other hand, hid her smile a bit better than him, but part of being previously engaged to a profiler meant you picked up on some of their tricks too.
She nodded and pulled a file from across the table. “I’m assuming you know the basics since she, uh, is obsessed with Spencer.”
“Glad to see he still has that going for him.” You muttered and looked into the file.
Emily shot Luke a look when he let out a huff or air, trying his damndest not to laugh.
“What is the last thing you know about her?”
You recounted the days leading up to the restaurant, and then the few days after, decidedly stopping short of the engagement breaking off a week later.
They shared another look, and you didn’t enjoy whatever it was that had moved across their faces.
“What? What happened?”
“Y/n..”
“No Emily, I drove from DC to here, I deserve to know what happened. without some weird sugarcoating, alright?”
Emily then begins to explain to you the past four years of Reid’s life. Cat pretending she was pregnant with his kid in prison, kidnapping his mother, framing him for murder in Mexico, going to prison—
“Spencer went to prison and none of you thought to call me….”
“We didn’t think you’d–”
“I’m a fucking criminal defense attorney in DC Emily. Of course I’d want to know if he was arrested, especially internationally. I know that law better than all of you. If someone I knew was kidnapped, I’d call you immediately. Faster than the cops.”
Both of them went silent.
“So is he out?”
They nodded slowly, silently.
“How long was he in there.”
Nothing.
“I asked. How. Long.”
Luke spoke up. “Three months.”
“Jesus christ.” You stood up and started to pace around the room, taking the time you needed to calm down.
Why didn’t Spencer call you—well you knew why Spencer wouldn’t call you.
“Okay so he’s out.” You said finally. “Why am I here?”
“Cat’s execution is coming up, and we….we found out that she’s convinced someone to kidnap some….people…close to Reid, and we knew you’d be on that list for him.”
Your eyebrows went up at people but said nothing of it. Just as you went to say something else, JJ knocked on the door, another blonde woman behind her.
They entered and JJ gave you a small, yet genuine smile.
You returned it, but quickly shifted your gaze onto the woman behind.
Your whole body shifted slightly, into a place of defense, locking your emotions down. You knew all the profilers were watching it happen in real time, which is why Emily walked over and stood next to you, a hand appearing on the small of your back as a comfort.
“Would someone like to tell me what is going on here?” The blonde woman spoke up, arms crossed.
At least Spencer’s taste in partners with attitude hadn’t changed.
______________________________________________________________
“Victimology is off.”
“How so?” Prentiss looked up at him as he walked into the room.
“Father and daughter. She’s never done that before.”
Lewis spoke up. “She usually kills men that remind her of her father. Children–even adult children, are off limits. Do we have an ID yet.”
Prentiss, Rossi, Garcia, and JJ all looked over at Reid, and he just pulled a hand down his face. “It’s. It’s Issac and Noelle Y/l/n.”
“Y/l/n…as is Y/n Y/l/n.” Tara looked up surprised at Spencer.
Reid nodded slowly, just staring at the picture on the projector.
While Luke spoke up. “Who is Y/n Y/l/n.”
“An old friend.” Rossi quickly interjected, before any more explanation had to be said. It was clear both Alvez and Simmons, that whoever this was, was an extremely touchy subject for Reid.
Tara, who had only known you for a little while, looked back at the picture.
Rossie spoke up. “What do we know about the partner who’s helping her?”
“It’s got to be someone from her prison.” Simmons spoke up. “She hasn’t had contact with anyone else.”
______________________________________________________________
After all of that, you found yourself back in a place you left four years ago. It looked almost the same as when you had first moved in, but there was less of it.
Almost as if he was having trouble covering places where things used to be.
There were almost no photos on the walls, since you had taken half of them, and were in the rest.
Calling someone you once loved a stranger feels wrong.
Max, as you had learned her name, was just sitting on the couch in your spot . She was looking around as you and Rossi stood by the kitchen counter.
“Cat had a cellmate named Juliette Weaver. We believe the two were working together, as a way for Cat to get something against Spencer, and as payment, Cat would get Juliette’s ex.”
You nodded. “How does this affect me?”
“She took your father and sister.”
Your back straightened and immediately brought out your phone, to call your sister, but Rossi just grabbed your wrist (gently) and shook his head. “If she finds out you know, then it’s all over. She’s doing this on purpose. She knows about you and Reid, but she knows that dragging you into all of this will hurt him more than anything else.”
His voice had gone low and quiet, so that the girl on the couch couldn’t hear.
“So why is she here?” You whispered back.
“Because we don’t want anyone in danger.”
You closed your eyes and nodded. “I need a cup of tea.”
Rossi let go of your wrist, and you walked into the kitchen, mostly eyes closed from the stress of the situation.
The apartment was silent, the others watching as you grabbed a kettle, and started to make tea. It was like second nature to you as you turned the stovetop on, grabbed a mug from the cabinet (careful to not grab one of his favorites), and grabbed some tea from the cabinet.
It didn’t dawn on you that you were drinking your favorite type of tea until the second sip, while the entire apartment was still silent.
The pity from Rossi's look was palpable.
“Don’t even start.”
He shrugged and stayed silent.
Until his walkie went off and he looked at Max. “It’s time. Let’s go.”
Rossi looked back at you and gave you a quick hug, squeezing you tightly. “You’ve got this kid. Remember everything we talked about.”
You nodded and gave them both a strained smile as they left the apartment, leaving you all alone in this place you once called home, alone.
Never once, since you left, did you think you would ever be back here. You didn’t even realize you were drinking from one of your own mugs until it was just you. The irony of it was not lost on you, and you sat down in your spot on the couch.
Well first you sat in Spencer’s seat but it felt too weird, so you shifted back into your spot on the couch.
______________________________________________________________
“Juliette staked out in Reid’s life. Found out he was dating someone, but then must have discovered his ex-fiancée.” Simmons sighed. “He was probably so focused on Max, he didn’t even realize that someone was digging into his history, following them around.”
Prentiss nodded as they walked and talked. “But if Juliette was able to find Max, that meant she was easily able to find Y/n and her family. It means she must have access to all of her publicly available information. “
“Well at least we found their hidden agenda.”
“No. We found Cat’s hidden agenda. Juliette doesn’t care about Reid. There’s something we’re missing here. Do a deep dive with Garcia.”
Simmons nodded at Prentis. “On it.”
“I’ll go to Reid's apartment and monitor onsite. Is there a trap and trace on his landline?”
“Garcia’s almost set up.” Simmons walked away from Prentiss, and down towards Penelope’s office.
“Well this went from bad to worse.” Tara walked up to Emily.
Emily sighed in agreement.
Lewis spoke up. “Female narcissists destroy their competition.Y/n really shouldn’t be in there.”
Emily just nodded and the two of them headed out of the bullpen. “Walk with me.”
Tara kept stride with her as they pushed through the doors. Rossi was just getting off the phone with someone and turned to look at the two women approaching him and JJ.
JJ spoke up when Rossi was finished. “So, the hospital just released the dad– Issac Y/l/n. He's on his way here now.
Rossi scoffed. “Question is, why let him go at all?”
“Matt's on that.” Emily gestures in the direction of Garcia’s office. “Juliette Weaver's real agenda should tell us where she's taking Y/n’s younger sister.”
Lewis spoke next. “I still think the play here is to get Cat and Juliette to contact each other, but I have no idea how.”
Prentiss crossed her arms. “I have a plan, but first we have to talk about Y/n.”
______________________________________________________________
Just then, you heard the click of the door, and stood up, watching as the door swung open.
And there he was.
This was the first time you had seen Spencer in four years.
And here he was, kissing Catherine Adams.
The woman you could give partial credit to for ending your relationship.
After a moment Spencer looked up, and took several steps away from Cat. His eyes were wide and locked on yours.
It took a lot of self-restraint to not punch the lights out of Cat, and to stand still arms crossed.
“Y/n?” Spencer’s voice broke a little bit.
You never would say that Spencer was unattractive. In fact, it would be a lie if you ever said it. But something about the past four years aged him like a fine wine.
His hair was a bit longer, he had some scruff—his baby face had melted away and standing in front of you was a man who thought you knew everything about, but was now a stranger.
You didn’t answer him, watching as he took you in, standing in his apartment, for the first time since…
“What are you doing here?”
You looked over at Cat, who had the most devious smirk on her face.
Remember what Prentiss had said to you.
“You know why I’m here.”
Cat nodded and the two of them moved into the apartment, the door closing behind them.
Spencer just stood ten feet away from you, eyes never leaving you, and you watched him right back.
Cat, on the other hand, was walking around, examining the apartment. You could see her take notice of the tea you had made yourself on the counter. You could see the hatred from the corner of your eyes. The two of you were starting to piss her off.
She spoke up, after a few moments of silence. “Did it make you mad that I was kissing your Fiancé?”
You shook your head. “No.”
Your focus had fully turned to Cat, but you swore you swore you could hear Spencer take a sharp inhale as you spoke your next words.
“Well, he's not my fiancé and I kind of have some other things on my mind.”
Cat didn’t scare you, but there was just something so off-putting about her. “Like what?”
“Are you gonna hurt Noelle?”
Cat shrugged. “Not if I don't have to, no. Honestly, if she follows instructions, she might even learn from this whole experience.”
You scoffed. “What does that mean?”
Cat just started fiddling with the chess set on the dresser.
“Spencer, what does she mean?” You turned to look back at him, his name feeling so good on your tongue.
Spencer, who really hadn’t stopped looking at you and sighed. “I think…She means that Noelle isn’t learning from her, but from Juliette.”
You sat down in your spot on the couch, arms crossed. You were on the full defense.
Spencer noticed where you sat and had to look down to conceal any notions of a smile on his face.
Cat watched him before turning and looking at you, some more disdain on her face than before.
“Normally, Spencie and I, we spend our time together playing games, but tonight, I've brought you all here to make a point. You are doing so much better.”
Spencer spoke up. “With you?”
“I'm not talking to you.” Cat snapped at him before she turned to you. “I'm talking to you. Because, girlfriend, you need to know the truth about your fiancé.”
“He's not my finacé.” You were unsure about how many more times you could say that outloud.
“No kidding. When’s the last time you spoke? Right…” Cat walked over to the center of the room, right in front of the couch. “Here?”
Your head whipped around to Spencer. “You told her about that?”
Spencer was pleading with his eyes. “I had to say a lot of things tonight.”
Cat’s voice caused your head to snap back to her. “Yes, he has. He said that you never compared to me, that, um... That no matter what, he will never get me out of his mind, unlike you. Unlike that girlfriend.”
You tried not to wince at the mention of that girl Maxine out in one of the trucks.
Spencer sat down next to you. “Everything I said—I was lying to save your family.”
Cat scoffed. “Did our kiss look like a lie?”
“No.” you just looked down at your hands.
“Thank you. See, now we're getting to the heart of the matter.” Cat started mocking Spencer. “You see, everyone thinks that Dr. Spencer Reid is... Is just this nice, bookish, uh, genius who, uh, always saves the day and has all the answers. And has zero mommy issues, right? But, um... I know the real him.”
“Oh, yeah? Who's the real me, Cat?”
“The real Spencer Reid throws women against walls. And hisses that he's going to kill them.”
Spencer stood up, squaring off against her. “That was a very different situation.”
“No, it wasn't.” Cat was holding the smirk back this time, making your gut wretch.
“Spencer…What is she talking about?” You looked from the psychopath in front of you, to the man you realized you might have never really known beside you.
“You tell her. She's not gonna believe it coming from me.” She huffed.
Reid turned and looked at you. “Two years ago, Cat had her partner kidnap my mother. Just like tonight. She got under my skin and…”
Your chest hurts. “And you threw her against a wall?”
Cat’s smirk was breaking through whatever resolve she had. “Don't skimp on the details, Spencie. She deserves to know everything.”
Every single time she said Spencie you swore a shock went up your spine.
Spencer looked down at his hands, and then over at you. His voice had gotten quieter. “She was pregnant at the time and I knew that when I hurt her.”
“And?” She stood there expectantly, waiting for Spencer to finish. When he didn’t, her face suddenly became solemn. “The next day... I miscarried. The end.”
Spencer looked at her. “That's not true.”
“It is most certainly true. Check my medical records.”
“That doesn't mean I-I would…”
Cat held up her hand to him. “Stop. Look.”
Spencer looked over at you, just sitting on the couch, trying to process everything that was going through your head.
After thinking about everything you had gone through, especially with Spencer. “I thought you were better than that Spence.”
It was the first time you had used a nickname for him in years. And he was hearing it for the first time while you were stuck in a standoff between himself and Cat Adams, your sister being god knows where.
Spencer’s voice cracked. “I'm sorry.”
Cat squatted down in front of you, a sick smile on her lips. She was enjoying this. She truly enjoyed watching his life crumble to bits. “Notice how your Spencie is apologizing to you and not me.”
You clenched your hands. “He’s not mine…”
Spencer just looked over at you.
Cat nodded. “That's good. Because men are all the same. Aren't they, Jolie?”
Spencer’s eyes lit up with an emotion you rarely saw from him when you were together. “Don't call her that.”
And you couldn’t blame him. The word ran you through like a spear and you were sure if you looked behind you, the blade would be through the couch. You tried so hard to not let either of the two people near you see how much it messed with you. Luckily for you, Cat was too busy pushing Spencer’s buttons to see the way her words won against you.
Cat hissed at him. “What, are you gonna throw me against a wall and choke me, or do you only do that to pregnant women?”
You finally spoke up. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because I want you to see it.” She gestured to Spencer. “I want you to see that he is...no better than he was before, or any man after. They’re all the same.”
“Stop.”
Cat squatted down in front of you. “I can see it on your face. What's his name?”
You stared back at her. “It's none of your business.”
That damned smirk of hers returned. “It is exactly my business. In fact, it's my specialty. I mean, I could have Juliette and baby sister go over there if you want. They could take care of him.”
Reid looked over at you. “Say yes. Give her what she wants.”
“Hmm. See, he wants you to get me to make a little phone call so they can trace it.” She moved away from you both and sat down in the lounging chair across from you. “They're so good, the FBI.”
You jumped up and started pacing, a spitting image of four years ago. “What is wrong with the two of you? What is this sick, twisted thing that you have? Listen, I just want to save my sister. Will you please just tell me what I have to do to do that?”
“Tell me his name. Tell me the story. That's it. And then if they can let Juliette exit stage right, then I promise you I will let her go.”
You looked between Cat and Spencer before walking over to the kitchen, and hanging up the phone. After staring down at the decision you had just made, you walked back over and took your phone out. “Here. Use this. Use my phone. They can't trace it.”
She just watched you. “You'd be surprised.”
“I don't even need a call. Just... just a photo.” You held the phone out to her. “Something to prove to me that she's still alive. Please”.
Cat just looked up at your face. “Story first.”
“Y/n. Please.” Spencer turned to you, hoping you’d look back at him. “I have been here with her before. She called the number and told the partner to kill my mom.”
“It is so tricky, isn't it? I mean, who are you gonna trust? The lying, cheating, violent psychopath... Or me?”
You looked down at the ground, refusing to look over at Spencer. “His…His name was Mike Davis. We dated for two years. I met him a month after we…we split.”
Cat’s attention on you felt as if there were a million bees stinging your body all at different intervals, pain coursing through your body. “Good. When did it end?”
“Last year.”
“Was he good in bed?”
Spencer stood up. “Shut up.”
Cat was enjoying this. She was enjoying watching you make Spencer uncomfortable. She was enjoying hurting him in every masochistic way she could. “What? You have to know where you stand.”
“He was good…” You looked back at Cat. “Good at, um, separating me from my friends and my family. Enough that the first time he punched me in the face, I didn't have anywhere to go. And my first response wasn't "get out." It wasn't "go to hell." It was "I'm sorry, Mike." That's when he knew he had me.”
There was a glint in Spencer’s eyes, and you could swear they were tears, but you couldn’t tell from rage or sorrow.
Cat continued to probe. “How many hospital visits were there?”
You showed her a small scar on the inside of your elbow. “None. No, he... He knew how to hurt me just enough to hide it all, I guess.”
“But you found the strength to leave. What did you do?”
“ I planned and I... I waited.”
Cat’s eyes lit up. “Waited for what? “
“I live here in D.C.” You looked between Spencer and Cat. “but I'm also a resident in Virginia. It takes 60 days for the permit to clear.”
Spencer’s eyes widened. “Y/n, stop talking. Stop talking right now.”
Cat shushed him. “No, don't stop. Here. Give me the phone. Look, I'm gonna enter the text. Stick the landing and I'll hit "send."
You handed her the phone and she quickly typed out a message, her thumb hovering over send.
Fiddling with your ring finger, you started to speak again. Slowly. Concisely. “When I was ready, I picked a fight. Loud enough for the neighbors to hear. And he came at me with his fist just cocked back, so I pulled my Glock 19 out of my purse. I shot him.”
Spencer tried to interject. “It was self-defense. He was attacking you—”
“That's what I told 911 as he was struggling to breathe on his kitchen floor. That's why the police never charged me. I’m a lawyer, I know how to plead.” You closed your eyes. “But I... after I hung up, I... I shot him two more times.”
Cat was glowing, spinning around to face Spencer. “Wow, you really have a type, don't you? Quite a dilemma, too. She just admitted to murder.”
Spencer was in disbelief. “She'll beat it.” .
“Probably. But whatever feelings she might have still had for you, and whatever Maxine might have seen in you—-it’s all gone.”
The phone in your hand buzzed.
“Oh, wow. Look at that. Your sister. Alive and well. You're welcome.”
Your face hardened up, and you stood up straighter. Walking away from the two of them, you opened the door. “I got it.”
She took the phone from your hand and you turned back to the two of them. There was no emotion behind your eyes as you looked back at Spencer.
Cat smirked and looked up at Spencer. “I win.”
______________________________________________________________
The prison transport was quiet, with the two guards sitting across from Spencer and Cat. It had been silent for about twenty minutes, but then, Cat spoke up.
“Do you know why I did this? Why I really did this?”
Spencer looked down at his hands. “You wanted to prove I'm a monster just like you.”
“No... Silly. I just wanted to see you again. I just wanted to make sure that you would never forget about me.” She sighed. “'Cause when they do put that needle in my arm, I just want there to be even the slightest chance that... Maybe you're still thinking about me…”
Spencer stiffened as she placed her head on his shoulder. “You didn't have to terrorize 3 innocent people. You could've just written a letter.”
“Would you have written me back?”
When Spencer didn’t respond, Cat knew her answer.
“Bye, Spencie. I really enjoyed our date.” She smiled at him desperately, getting dragged out of the vehicle by the guards to the prison.
______________________________________________________________
The elevator door opened and Spencer walked out of it, his whole body reeked of defeat, and he barely looked at Emily as she spoke. “We need to debrief.”
Spencer just walked right past her, and into the bullpen. His expression changed when he saw you on one side talking to Tara, and Max on the other, looking up at him right as he walked in.
“Spencer, are you okay?”
Her voice caught your ear, and immediately you looked up to see her walk over and embrace him in a hug.
He smiled at her, and grateful returned the hug before muttering that he would be back, and explain everything.
You were never going to get back together with Spencer, but watching it in real time was like unlacing an old wound.
Spencer walked over to you, and you stood up as he approached.
“Uh, Tara, would you mind giving us…”
She nodded at him and walked away.
Both of you went to speak, trying to say something to the other.
“I should explain all of this.”
Spencer shook his head. “You don’t have to explain any of that Y/n—it doesn’t.”
You cut him off. “It was fake—most of it. I didn’t kill anyone, Spence. I was just lying to her to get her to send the text from my phone. It was all…It was made up.”
He just nodded, staring at you really.
You gave him a soft smile, and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. Both of you could feel the pulse between it, making you remove your hand and take a small step back.
“Thank you for saving my sister and father.”
Spencer watched your resolve fully formed, masking whatever you were feeling. He hated watching it happen to him, watching as you placed whatever feelings you had back into somewhere he couldn’t find.
Garcia walked over and placed a hand on Spencer’s shoulder. “I just need you both to know, Cat Adams had a miscarriage, but it was months after whatever encounter you had. It’s not your fault. We looked at her records.” She was speaking low for you both, yet both of you let out a quiet sigh of relief.
“They filled me in on everything that happened between both of you in the past couple years, and they asked me if I would be willing to…help them beat her.”
Spencer looked up at you, and unlike yourself, every single emotion Spencer was feeling was racing across his face.
He didn’t like that you knew about everything that had gone down. He was so happy you were okay. He was a little impressed by the way you beat Cat at her own game. He was upset that you put yourself in danger.
“They gave me an ear piece and everything.”
Spencer shook his head. “You’re not trained—that’s extremely dangerous of you.”
You sighed and nodded. “Unfortunately Spencer, this is…this was the life I was used to when we were together. I knew the stakes. I mean the briefings I had with Hotch after you relapsed…”
Spencer just clammed up and stood a bit straighter. “ I never knew..”
“It was like that on purpose. I didn’t want you to think that you were a burden or too much or—I was doing it for the potential of…” You cut yourself of, flinching at the parallels between this and your previous final conversation.
You looked over at Garcia. “I need my bag Pen.” You whispered, taking a step away from Spencer. “I shouldn’t…I finished my job. My family is safe…”
She had a rueful look on her face, but she nodded and took your arm, walking you back over to the desk where your stuff was.
He looked up at Emily and walked over to her. “I’m…uh. I’m gonna go walk her out and then I’ll be right back.”
Emily gave him the saddest smile, and just nodded. She knew that nothing she could say could make it any better.
You grabbed your coat, and your bag, and the two of you walked to the elevator in silence, riding it all the way down to the parking garage, where your car was still there from this afternoon, all of those hours ago.
You looked over at Spencer, tears in your eyes, having not said anything to him.
As soon as he met your eyes, you dropped your bag, and Spencer wrapped his arms around you tightly, just holding you and resting his head on yours; trying to give you the comfort that he was rarely able to give you.
Sobbing into his arms, you just tightly wrapped your arms around his torso and just held onto him tightly. Trying to decompress, trying to truly understand everything that had happened in the past twelve hours.
It was Spencer who spoke first.
“I’m so so sorry Y/n.” He whispered. “I never meant any of this to happen to you, and for you to get dragged back here and—”
You shook your head slightly, but didn’t move from where you were. Neither of you did.
“It’s what she wanted, Spence, and unfortunately for us, this was always bound to happen.” You whispered.
The hug felt so good, but something about it was just so different.
It’s not the way it used to be.
“I need to go Spencer.”
He nodded, and this time you moved away from him. His hand came up and wiped away one of the remaining tears on your cheek.
You closed your eyes, and took a deep breath.
“Oh fuck, why is this so fucking hard four years later.” You laughed, trying to regain any sort of composure.
“Y/n…”
You took another step away from him and shook your head.
“We can’t—I’m not.” You tried so hard to find the right words without bursting into tears again. “Spencer. I cannot put myself back to where I was four years ago. I can’t do it. And yes things have changed, but maybe that is for the better. Maybe you were always meant to be my maybe, and not my always.”
You took another breath, but kept going. “You are amazing, and funny, and so smart Spence. But this…we ran our course. It didn’t work then, and I don’t know if I have it in me to try again just for it to fail.”
“Y/n please.”
“I will always love you but this…It’s time to…It’s time to stop. I have to go back to my life, and you go back upstairs to yours, with Prentiss and Rossi and Penelope and…Max.”
Both of you winced as you said her name, but you took a step forward, moving to kiss him on the cheek.
Spencer gently grabbed you face, giving you enough time to back out.
You didn’t.
His lips locked with yours, his thumb rubbing against your cheek as the two of you shared one more moment, just for the two of you.
But it had to end.
You couldn’t go back to the anxiety, the arguing, the petty disagreements. It wasn’t good for you. It was good for either of you.
Stepping away again, you gently kissed his cheek, and started to slowly walk to your car.
Right as you got to your car, you turned around and made eye contact with him one last time before the elevator doors closed, both of you with the most gut wrenching smile slightly plastered across your faces.
You mouthed goodbye, unable to speak it out loud, and he nodded, tears filling his eyes as he whispered it back to you.
The doors shut.
You were all alone in this hollow parking garage.
Your heart was aching, burning.
But there was a sigh of relief, that came with the doors closing, and saying goodbye for the last, last time.
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