#you give him some and it changes his life he can’t go back to the way he was living before
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tswkento · 3 days ago
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kind of arranged marriage au with gojo, where it is suddenly proposed during a big meeting that he attended out of pure convenience rather than his own desire and he is thoroughly disinterested in the idea until you come into the picture.
dragged into the room with two guards holding you up by your arms as you writhe in their hold, so bratty and feisty, unintentionally catching everyone’s attention as you curse the men by your sides — satoru finds your voice to be very familiar, but he can’t understand why because your hair is all over your face from your squirming.
and when you are not so gently put down on the floor, with your kimono in disarray while you are huffing and panting as you blow the strands of hair away from your face, satoru finally recognises you.
he watches as the guards let you go, cautiously watching you as you fix your kimono and smooth down your hair, and when an old lady approaches you they go away. some old man appears by his side, shakily introducing himself to satoru, but he completely ignores the man, still waiting for you to be alone to proceed. suddenly, this whole event becomes a lot more entertaining.
the old lady by your side points at the other side of the room and satoru follows her directions along with you — catching the sight of naoya zenin and the disgusted look you grant the lady before she whispers something into your and you direct your gaze at him.
the delight satoru feels at the sight of the death glare you send him is on another level. it is really you.
while he waits for the right moment, gojo takes in what the old man has been saying to him — apparently you were to be wedded either to him or to naoya, which could explain your previous interaction with the lady and the dirty look you gave the zenin guy.
the moment the old lady leaves you alone, satoru appears, languid steps approaching you as he shoves his hands in his pockets and bends forward, smirking down at you.
“oh i remember you. 2005, exhange event, fukuoka branch?”
you continue glaring at him, unwilling to dip into the memories he is sure he has brought back into your mind — your glossy lips twitch, though, so he knows you have a lot to say. he can tell you haven’t really changed from the first time he met you, but for some reason you are holding back now.
“haven’t changed, have you? the same bratty attitude, all bark and no bite.” he continues to rile you up, hoping that the condescending tone of his voice will bring something out of you. it seems to work because you hiss out a reply not even a moment later,
“and you’re still the same asshole, aren’t you?”
the sight of your balled fists, burning with potent cursed energy, makes his smirk grow, and he only chuckles.
“easy, tiger, we both know you are in no position to speak to me like that.”
your eyes widen at his words, feet taking you away from him as you gulp down whatever response you had in your mind. the fact that he has so much control over your life right here right now scares him just as much as it excites him, but the cruelty of his words is far bigger than what he has in mind.
at the end of the day, you are quite a pitiful sight.
he could just say ‘no’ and you will be basically sold to the zenin for your pretty face, very much aware of the tormenting you will be forced to go through to become a picture perfect wife for naoya. everyone knows that. you know that.
he looks down at your fists, seeing the unstable flickering of the energy around it, making him raise a wondering brow at that and causing you to hide your hands behind your back. your technique was something you were very proud of back then, and seeing you being self-conscious now was a confusing sight.
“what happened to being a sorcerer and all? did you give up so easily after your class lost that summer?”
you click your tongue at him, crossing your arms over your chest as you look around warily.
“i am forbidden from using my technique.”
“too bad at it?”
“no, asshole. i can’t work because i could hurt myself and it would be a liability to—” you close your mouth, a deep frown appearing on your forehead as you sigh. satoru, ever the patient, urges you,
“to what?”
you take a deep breath, covering your face with your palm, “to my reproductive system.”
oh. right. the clan heads are obsessed with him having an heir so it’s no wonder something like this even happened. though, satoru does feel pity brewing inside of him when he realises that you’ve been deprived of your life’s work and made to become something you clearly were not. he remembers your 16 year old self being very adamant on becoming the best of the best after losing to them for the nth time.
satoru makes a show of rubbing his chin, as if in deep thought, and then gasps, a wide smile appearing on his lips as he leans down to be on your eye level again.
“so, what do you think about becoming my wife?”
“everyone here knows that you don’t want to get married.” you glance at him in utter confusion, untrusting of his words.
satoru nods, smirking lazily, “i don’t. never said it’s gonna be a great marriage.” he takes a lock of your hair between his fingers, twirling it lightly while he continues, “it’s gonna save you, though.”
“what’s in it for you?”
“i get to save your day like the true hero i am and have the old geezers off my back,” he holds out his hand for you, an offer for you to take it and agree to this whole thing, “and you get to lead a semi-normal life with me. are you in or not?”
your eyes roam over his features before turning to the room full of people before you. everyone was staring at him and you, satoru already knew that, and as soon as you were to put your hand in his — chaos would ensue.
so you did. and thus, a different life started.
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stagefoureddiediaz · 2 days ago
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Give me happy silly Eddie in juxtaposition to depressed sad buck - give it to meeeeeee!!
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I’m so excited to see that play out - you know Ryan and Oliver are gonna kill it and have had so much fun with it!
‘Really holding onto the past’ is also an interesting term to use in relation to Buck - it really is giving me Buck spiral into playing the field because relationships are pointless everyone leaves so I might as well go back to Buck 1.0 but bi version!
And then all the comments on Eddie’s journey are just so 👀👀
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Accepting himself, steps in the right direction, self love that’s gonna lead to some stuff that he’s not very successful at?!!
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And don’t get me started on the whole’I don’t think he’s known who he is of it all - especially in tandem with the whole ‘destruction of a life’ and ‘rebirth’ and ‘something new to grow from it’
It’s so queer coded I can’t even tell you!
Like - those terms generally only get used as a concept in a couple of ways - you get a divorce and have to start over and move forward (also works with the death of a spouse!). You totally uproot your life - move somewhere new, completely change jobs and start over! Or the other option is if you’re going on a journey of discovery about yourself and figuring out your sexuality!
Well Eddie has already done the first and second ones so that only leaves him with the third option - figuring out his sexuality because he’s never actually looked at it before and doesn’t actually know who he is.
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Eddie queer arc here we go - with him trying out some other random stuff first and figuring out whatever he tries isn’t the answer - but narrowing down the options until he hits on queer and finds it does actually fit him!!
Ryan just keeps on saying queer Eddie without saying queer Eddie and I’m here for it!
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eternal-love · 3 days ago
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Lover, you’re on your own
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Pairings: Austin Butler x Female!Reader
Summary: After years of your divorce, Austin and you get in each other’s way again. Catch up, know what happened in last few years.
Author’s note: I don’t even know what this plot is but I kinda liked the idea of Austin and Reader finding themselves again. I kinda liked it, idk.
Warning: mentions of divorce, unhealthy relationships, children loss, spousal death, the reader’s been through a shit ton of divorces.
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You were inside a café in New York City, enjoying being in your own for a while. After another hectic divorce, the choice of going to a bar wasn’t even on your mind anymore.
You started to wonder if you were cursed, you didn’t even care to count how many divorces you’ve had in the last thirteen years. Were you really never good enough to be a long time wife? Or did faith have something else for you in store? Whatever it was, life treated you like trash.
You drank your coffee quietly as she scrolled through your phone, you heard the door of the café open and close. You were very perceptive of who came in, who left, who coughed, who laughed. And once you saw who came in, you had to do a double take.
You knew that guy— man. He wasn’t a young guy anymore but a man. Austin. All those years ago and you still remembered him. Of course you had seen his rapid success these last years, he was everywhere. But you were in his past and you understood it. You didn’t expect anything but you wouldn’t lie if you said you didn’t want him to at least recognize you, wave at you or at least smile and nod his head.
You focused on your overpriced coffee and muffin, stealing gentle glances towards him. Until one time, you both made eye contact, he was going to turn back to his phone but immediately turned back again to see you. Oh, he recognized you!
“Hey.” His deep voice spoke as he reached your small table. You looked up.
“Austin. Wow. Hi!” You said, as if you had just seen him. “Oh my goodness, it’s been so long.” You stood up, greeting him with a hug.
“Look at you. You’re all grown up now.” He smiled at you. Whistling a little.
“I could say the same about you.” You said, sitting down again. Thank God he recognized you.
“Wow. I just can’t believe it. It’s been what… ten years?”
“Thirteen.” You corrected him. His eyes widened.
“Thirteen years? Damn, that long? He chuckled. “What are you doing in New York anyways. You used to tell me how much you hated the city.”
“A girl can change. And I find that bars here serve much better drinks.” You chuckled with him, then there was a calm silence before he spoke up.
“I heard you got married. Who’s the lucky guy?”
You sighed, showing him your empty right hand. Oh, so divorced already?
“How long?” He asked.
“Two years married. It was just a disagreement between us. We weren’t looking for the same shit in the long run anyways.” You sighed. It was better to say that than to reveal that your last husband left you for a barely legal girl.
“Two years. Damn.” Austin pressed his lips together, he looked away as he brought the cup to his lips.
“I heard you’re dating a model. Cindy Crawford’s daughter. That’s nice, it give you some… it factor.” You said, you were being half sarcastic and half truthful.
“Ah. Yes, Kaia.” He said, he really didn’t sound enthusiastic. “Everything is going just fucking peachy.” He said, a smirk on his lips.
You nod. The whole tired voice went over your head. He was dating a model, what else could a man wish for? If not a model with long limbs.
“Listen. I’m filming a movie right not but— I surely can make time to see you again. You said you drink, right?”
Your eyes immediately lit up, of course you could make time for him. Well, you wanted to catch up. That’s all.
“Sure. Yeah, what day?”
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It was a cold night. But inside the bar it was cozy. You both had ordered, he ordered an Old-Fashioned and you ordered a Cosmopolitan.
You started drinking the night away, you weren’t outright tipsy, but the alcohol was getting to your head.
“I really, really wanted to ask. What’s the true reason behind your divorce?” He asked as he held his glass on his big hands.
You sighed. You were already here. You had known him forever. Yes, you two might have not seen each other in more than a decade, but beforehand you were husband and wife. You shouldn’t be honest at least.
“He cheated on me. With the neighbor.” You confessed, he gasped softly, his hand going to his mouth. “Yeah. She was nineteen, now he’s dating her.”
“What a motherfucker…” Austin said, rubbing his chin.
“I’m starting to believe I curse every guy that gives me a ring. Seriously, five failed marriages. I must be cursed.” You sighed, his eyes widened even more.
“Five you say?” His voice was incredulous. Five. Five marriages. He was your first, of course. “What about the other three? If you don’t mind me asking…”
“My second husband, Tyler, we weren’t a match made in heaven. I guess he scared me a lot. He would drink his paycheck away. We divorced because his incompetent ass went to rehab.” You sighed as you played with the napkins.
“Then there was Eric, he was boring. He spent more time on his office than he did with me. He wasn’t so bad, he was just distant, very. He loved his job more than he ever loved me. He didn’t even talk to me, he just left the divorce papers in the kitchen. He had left a day prior.”
“Then there was… Nate.” You sighed, looking down again at the napkin you’ve been ripping apart. “He wasn’t perfect. Indeed he could be very moody and he yelled all the time. But I cared for him. I didn’t expect him to be taken from me. No wife does. By I learned to accept it. Now I remember him from time to time. I take flowers to his grave whenever I can.”
Austin’s eyes softened as he reached out his hand and placed it upon your shoulder, giving you a gentle squeeze. My goodness, where did you find those bastards to marry?
“Got any kids?” He asked you. Softly. Threading carefully.
“I tried. After we lost our boy, I really tried to get pregnant again. I wasn’t able to.” You said softly, you had at least wanted a baby. Not because you thought it would fulfill you. That was crap. But you wanted a kid so that you wouldn’t be so alone. “But I’m also grateful I never had a kid. It wouldn’t have been healthy if I had the kid calling three men daddy.”
“That’s true.” Austin said, taking a sip from his glass and nodding his head. “Listen. I know that you might think that I’ve forgotten about our baby. I haven’t. I visit the grave whenever I can. It’s just hard for me. Still. To believe he would have been thirteen this year.”
Austin looked down again. Taking your hand in his, his thumb rubbing the back of your hand.
Your baby boy would have been thirteen this year. How time flies.
You and Austin had been eighteen when you had a shotgun wedding because he knocked you up. He had been nervous but so happy. I mean, a tiny baby? He adored tiny babies. It was a happy married albeit you two didn’t know what to do.
But then, it happened, you delivered a beautiful baby boy. A tiny black-haired beauty, he had been a fighter, he had tried to beat the heat stroke that took him. You cried for days, he was there by your side, but he was young too and he was battling with his own demons, he quite literally filled for divorce out of nowhere, when you needed him the most.
You never saw each other again until now.
“I sometimes wonder, how different my life would be if he had lived.” Austin said softly, looking at you.
“Me too.” You wanted to cry, but you held back. You already cried a lot to your first child. You cried in private, like a prayer.
“Maybe we should’ve stayed married.” Austin said, almost with a hint of hopelessness. You stared up at him, a small smile on your lips.
“You were the best of them all.” You said, a smile on your lips. For all his faults, back then he was a kid too, and he mourned in whatever way he found fit.
“What a terrifying thought,” he finished his Old-Fashioned and laughed once again, shaking his head as he licked his lips. “Jesus Christ, don’t say that.”
You laughed together again, as you had done when you were younger. As you used to do late at night. And for some hours, you were happy by his side. He took this as an opportunity to talk about him now.
“You know, my girlfriend and I are having problems. Last thing I knew was that she fucked this comedian guy, from SNL…”
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As you waited for a taxi, you smoked together. Maybe this could be the last time you two saw each other. Your lives were the total opposite now. He was a successful actor with a girlfriend and you were an office worker, who spent all her time working or outside.
But you couldn’t deny that when he talked, you stared at his lips, he stared at yours. The way he smoked, the way he held the cigarette.
“Aren’t you lonely now? I mean, you’re all alone.” Austin asked as he threw the ash on the floor.
“I’m trying to learn how to be alone. It will be my next year’s resolution. Stay away from dating.” You chuckled, you then took a drag from your cigarette. “But yes. I can’t get lonely from time to time. I have been someone’s wife for too long, being and living with someone changed the way you feel once they’re gone.”
“I can relate. Kaia and I— we never even got to live together before everything went south. All just because of her stupid parents and her stupid pap walks. It’s exhausting, really.” He groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose with this empty hand. “And now that I finally put my limits. She’s all mad at me, with her team sending these ridiculous articles, making me the bad guy.”
“Hey, it’ll get better.” You said, patting his shoulder. “That’s what you get for dating a twenty-something year old.” You patted his shoulder a bit more playfully.
You two started playing with one another, pushing each other playfully, the cigarettes on the floor already. Until he cornered you in the brick wall.
He leaned in and kissed you, you followed the kiss, at first it started slow but it escalated quickly. His tongue entered your mouth, both your tongues danced with one another, his hand went to your neck, pressing it softly. You both could taste the cigarette and liquor on your lips and mouths.
You hadn’t kissed someone in so long, but it wasn’t right. It wasn’t. No. Not like this. No, you had promised yourself that you wouldn’t say anymore.
So after a while, you pushed him off you gently. He was out of breath, he kicked his lips, his hand going to the side of your head, he leaned down.
“You could survive another man…” He basically purred out, his lips on a smirk.
“It wouldn’t work between us.” You said. Looking into his eyes.
“Why not?” He asked, his eyes only showed confusion.
He would forget you, and you would forget him. For the love of God, never once in thirteen years did he try to contact you, and viceversa. You both would remember your baby boy, but not one another. You two would disappear into each other’s memory until you were old and wrinkly, telling your grandchildren or whatever young person asked about your youth. Talking about how you had a shotgun wedding. Of how you two lost your baby. About how you two continued each other’s lives like strangers.
“We’re too different now.” You said, it was all you could mutter.
Not all the bottled up pain you had from when he just left you, grieving and alone. Nothing. You just couldn’t even talk about it anymore.
He stared at you and nodded. You know what? He understood. He understood where you came from. He was a dick back then. And he couldn’t expect you to jump into his arms after all the men you went through, after what you went through with him.
“It’s alright.” He said, pulling away from you. “I guess I should go back to my apartment, it’s late.” He cleared his throat and came closer to hug you. “It was great seeing you again. I hope we see each other walking by or something. Goodbye.”
He knew he was lying. He was pleased to see you, but every time he looked at you, he saw your younger self. He saw the baby. He saw all the bad things. He loved you once. Not anymore. He had a special place for you in his memory.
But it would be the last time you two saw each other.
As you watched him walk away, you took deep breaths. That was it. You were alone once again. As you had been before he walked into the café. You had no one to turn to tomorrow.
As a taxi pulled to the side, you got in and told the driver the address of the hotel you were staying at.
You were all on your own.
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I won’t have any free time from now on so… I’ll try to really write whenever I have time.
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leavemurph · 2 days ago
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sometimes i get so upset thinking what if hotch wants to come back cuz like jack’s in college and he’s home all the time, he’d need something to do?? and the fact that the writers still didn’t use this one excuse to bring him back to emily is just… ugh.
a few comments here and there about his life while he was gone, laughing with old friends who are still friends no matter what, teasing him cuz he tries to call his son and gets constantly ignored with the “dad, please, i’m busy”. then jj’s like, oh yeah, i get it, teenagers gonna be teenagers, and emily’s kinda feeling left out? but it’s cool. it’s just that time’s passing and she doesn’t have that for herself, which is strange, since she always thought she would. but then again, time sucks, this job takes so much, and yeah, maybe it’s too late.
no kids, nope, well, she’s busy. really busy. this thought keeps looping in her head, and a few situations end up making her rethink it, over and over—did i do this on purpose? did i avoid making any decisions that could’ve taken me down that path because, deep down, i felt like i didn’t deserve it?
hotch finds her in her office, asks if she’s okay because she seems so distracted all the time. of course, she doesn’t say anything, she’s not big on venting, but she does ask him if he ever thought about what it’d be like if they’d made it differently all those years ago.
he’s… confused at first, mostly because he’s not sure if this is her way of allowing them to talk about all the stuff they never said, couldn’t say, or were too scared to. so he asks, what do you mean? emily’s tired of dancing around it, they’re older now, more mature, there’s not much left to lose, so she just says, “you knew how i felt about you. that’s fine. i know how you felt about me.” hotch gives her a small smile, and she gets it. she really gets it. “i can’t believe i even considered going with you. like, a part of me really wanted to, so badly. i talked to you about work every day, told you things you didn’t even want to hear, didn’t care. and i kept hoping, hoping that one day you’d ask me to, or even just… i don’t know, say you missed me. my god, i would’ve dropped everything, run off into witness protection. with you. with jack.”
“emily.” hotch looks genuinely surprised, and maybe it’s because she’s holding back tears. “you had all these things here, things you built for yourself. look at you now.”
“right,” she mutters, waving it off with a comment about their previous case, because why get into that now? it’s a waste of time.
aaand…
they kiss for the first time on new year’s, in their natural habitat—at work, of course. everyone but emily is ready to party, but at midnight, hotch brings her a glass of champagne while she’s scribbling reports. she looks up and says, “are you guys going out? i’m gonna have to pass this time, i’m so busy,”
and he laughs because, “you sound like me ten years ago,” while gently coaxing her out of her chair. she tries not to freak out, laughing nervously, rolling her neck to release the tension from hours of sitting and staring at fine print. hotch brushes her hair back, studying her face, and she lets out a deep sigh, touching her tongue to the corner of her mouth. “a little nervous?” he asks, a smile tugging at his lips. “still the same tell, huh? some things never change.”
“i really can’t go with you guys,” she insists, eying his lips, almost on the edge of feeling butterflies for the first time in over a decade.
“heard you the first time. so i’ll be your first new year’s kiss, and then i’ll get out of your hair.” okay, butterflies all the way down to her toes. she barely nods, just a slight movement, before he leans in and kisses her. it’s the best kiss she’s ever had, hands down. my god, she can’t stop thinking about it.
he literally left her to do her job and went out partying with the others. he’s learned to live more than she has over these years, and honestly, it’s not bad. it’s not terrible. it’s nice.
their relationship grows through little moments scattered throughout the season—tender touches, good morning kisses, emily jumping out of bed late, the looks they share. they talk about the moments they’ve lived, the times they wanted to say something and didn’t, or do something and held back. “do you remember that time we…?”
the first time emily faces any life-threatening situation, hotch’s immediate reaction when he sees her getting her cheek stitched up is: “that was really brave of you to do.”
“hotch,” she winces, frowning through the pain as the stitch hurts. “really?”
“okay, what, are you out of your mind? didn’t you wait for backup?”
“that’s much better, thank you. and, no, it’d be too late.”
“almost died,” he crosses his arms, and emily is doing everything she can not to bite her nails. “i’m gonna need you to marry me. is that okay with you?”
and emily’s like, “what?”
“you heard me right. i want you, and i want to do this, all of it. you’ve always wanted kids, and you’ve been thinking about it, don’t lie to me, and it’s not too late. and we’re gonna do it, you and i. there’s surrogacy, adoption… we can—”
yeahh…. so.
gimme gimme.
bye.
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xenascribbles · 2 days ago
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The Vampire and The Devilspawn
our first Anzurin chapter :) pls enjoy ! || Chapter Navigation - a post with a link to each posted chapter
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Chapter 2 - Anzurin
Cautiously, Anzurin pulls back from the fledgling, tensed and ready to grab her again if he needs to. She stares at him with wide eyes, brown tinged red, her auburn hair in a tangled, bloody mess, and pure rage dripping out of every pore. He doesn’t know why exactly she’s so angry, aside from the hunger that’s surely gnawing at her, but he wants to know. What has happened to her? Clearly something. 
She’s wearing a tight, turtle-necked, long sleeved shirt that covers all but her hands, and a loose pair of cargo pants, but on the little patches of skin that are visible, Anzurin makes out many faded scars, some jagged, some clean and uniform, as if done deliberately, but not medically. 
Like someone had sliced into her. 
“Where were you before you showed up at Velur’s coven today?” he asks. If she has indeed been a fledgling for months like he dreadfully suspects, then it’s likely that someone has been holding onto her the entire time. He hasn’t heard anything about any fledglings going wild on the surface in the last few months. A couple rogue vampires that weren’t much to deal with, but nothing about a fledgling like her. 
Magdalena, once released, quickly snatches the bag of blood from him, and immediately squeezes at least half of it into her mouth. “Dunno,” she murmurs around the plastic spout. 
Anzurin takes a single step back, wanting to give her space, but not trusting her with much. Something about the vacant look in her eye urges him to ask, “Don’t know, or don’t remember?” 
She only hums, “Mhm,” as an answer, which doesn’t really answer anything. She’s entirely focused on the blood and not much else. 
“Well, how about this,” he tries. “Do you know how long ago you were changed?” 
Her brow scrunches in the middle as she thinks. “Mm. Three.” She gives a little nod, as if affirming the answer to herself. 
“Three what? Three days? Weeks, months?”
“Mhm.” 
“Which one, Magdalena?” 
She blinks for the first time in a few minutes, pulling off of the spout to look around the room. She looks at the door, then at Brem, and the bag of blood in her hands, and finally, she looks at Anzurin, confusion etched into her gaze. She looks at him as if just realizing he’s there. “What?” 
Anzurin sighs, abandoning his line of questioning. She can’t answer anything. Or she just won’t. He’s not sure which it is, but is leaning towards can’t. There’s definitely something off about the look in her eye, how it bounces between vacant and frantic and angry. Something happened to her, and he’d like to know what. 
“Velur had better return soon with whoever brought you in,” he grumbles angrily, losing patience with the devilspawn already. “In the meantime, I’d like to take you to my doctors for a full examination. Maybe that’ll answer some questions.” 
“Or create more,” Brem laughs nervously, taking a step back. “Do I have to … tag along?” 
Anzurin studies the fledgling. Magdalena Pierce, supposedly. The only thing she seems to know. She’s calmed down considerably, but he’s sure that any little thing could set her off again, and he has no idea what might cause her to lash out. An easier question might be: what doesn’t. 
“Well, I suppose you can,” he answers Brem. “Or, if you’d rather, you can go figure out absolutely everything you can about her life before.” 
“I’ll do that.” Brem hurries out of Anzurin’s office, leaving him alone with a rabid fledgling. 
Surprising him, she lets out a small sigh once the door closes behind Brem, and then she closes her eyes as she empties the blood bag. Anzurin quickly pulls the next out of his pocket and opens it, holding it out to her by the time she realizes that she’s finished the one she has. 
She snatches it away from him and drinks it just as desperately as she drank the last one. Giving her a little faith, Anzurin takes multiple steps away from her, letting her have the space she most likely wants, but he does tell her again, “I’d like to take you to be checked out by the doctor, Magdalena. Can we do that? I’ll keep feeding you as long as you need.” 
To prove it, he walks over to his minifridge and takes out two more bags to put in his jacket pockets, hoping that they’ll warm up before she’s ready to drink them; cold blood can’t taste great. Her thirst is unlike anything Anzurin has ever seen, except for a couple of very rare cases. She has the hunger of a vampire that hasn’t fed in weeks or even months, and he knows first hand what that looks like. 
Magdalena nods, wide eyes pinned on his every move. 
“We’ve got to set some rules before we leave this office. You can’t be attacking us. I get that you’re hungry, and we’re going to do what we can to make sure you’re sufficiently fed, but there is an order to this coven that we have to keep. You disrupt that order, and you will be dealt with appropriately.”
She drags her thumb across her neck. 
“If we have to,” Anzurin answers, “though, I’d personally prefer not to. Believe it or not, I don’t find any joy in having to kill a vampire, and I’ll explore every other option before we get to that point, but if you keep trying to kill everyone, you’ll force my hand.”
She opens her mouth to poke at her blood-coated fangs. “Wanna bite.” She gnashes her teeth together and her gaze drops down to Anzurin’s still bleeding arm. 
He’d nearly forgotten. Anzurin brings the wound to his mouth and licks it, the devilspawn magic in his saliva healing the entire mangled mess in less than two seconds. As for his neck, he grabs his handkerchief out of his pocket, spitting on it before pressing to his neck until he only feels unblemished skin under his fingers. 
“I’ll let you feed from me again later,” he tells her, not sure if he really means it. “Right now, you’ve already taken a lot of blood from me. Any more, and it may be the end of me; we can’t have that.” Slowly so that he doesn’t frighten her, Anzurin steps closer to Magdalena, coming to stand directly in front of her. 
He doesn’t really like using his abilities on others, but he rations that it might be necessary this time, so he drops his head to look her in the eyes, stretching his power out towards her. It dips into her mind, tentatively testing the edges before it assaults her thoughts. The feeling of touching someone else’s mind always makes Anzurin’s skin crawl and his bones itch, but he pushes on. This needs to be done if he wants to keep everyone alive. 
He ventures into her mind, finding the intrusion to be easier than expected. Most people have a wall around their mind, much like a mental skull, making Anzurin put in an effort to venture into their heads, but Magdalena’s is defenseless, and he sinks into it too easily. 
Her mind is not much different than what she presents on the outside, a muddled mess that either focuses on nothing, or jumps from thought to thought before one can even fully form. It runs without form, like a river released from its channel and pouring over the land. It begs for some type of order, for direction. 
Magdalena stares up at him with wide eyes, likely unaware of his exploration of her mind, sucking down blood like it’s the only thing she cares about. Maybe it is. 
“You’re going to behave,” Anzurin tells her, the command winding its way through the folds of her brain and embedding itself. 
She nods, accepting the guidance easily. Fledglings need someone to follow, they need direction, or they’d run wild and kill everything in their path. It’s written into their very beings, so it’s no surprise that Magdalena seems to listen to him so easily. Albeit, a little too easily, but she listens nonetheless, and Anzurin counts that as a win. 
Pushing further into her mind, he tells her, “We are going to go see the doctors. They are going to examine you without issue. You will not attack them when they try to look at you. Yes?” 
“Yes,” she echoes, her voice muffled around the blood. 
“If you feel like you have to bite someone, you bite me. You –” 
Anzurin cuts off as he finally hits a wall in her mind, not where it should be. He thought that it was a bit too easy to tunnel through the empty channels of her mind, and now it makes sense why. It’s already been burrowed into. He can’t be sure how long ago she was manipulated, or who did it to her, but her mind has most definitely been poked and prodded by a devilspawn other than himself. And whoever did this to her constructed a new wall within her mind, one that she can’t even seem to penetrate. Anzurin tries to get a look behind the wall, but he can’t sense anything on the other side of it. 
He pokes at the misplaced wall until Magdalena begins to show discomfort. She scrunches her nose and looks away from him, down to the blood filled pouch in her hands. 
Unsure what to do with her mangled mind, Anzurin eases out of it and takes a step back, blinking. “Just behave, please. Alright. Let’s go. Walk next to me.” 
Hoping she listens, he turns for the door and leaves his office. Thankfully, she does, traipsing along at his side down the hallway, slurping happily on the blood as her eyes dart around, looking at anything and everything.
There isn’t much for her to look at in the hallway that leads to Anzurin’s office, a few portraits of him and the other coven leaders lining the dimly lit, sage green walls, but nothing else. She glances at each painting, grumbling at them except when she reaches Velur’s. She stops in her tracks in front of his portrait, teeth bared at it as if he were really standing right in front of her. 
Anzurin steps up behind her, also staring at Velur’s portrait, but he’s wondering what it is about him that she hates so much. What has he done to her? Is he that one that’s muddied her mind? Is he the reason she’s so broken and confused and angry? 
He’ll have to talk to the spawn later. 
“Come on, Magdalena,” he urges, a hand on her arm to lead her away from Velur’s portrait. She looks down at his hand and snarls at it until he removes it, but does in fact turn and follow him. 
Her steps scuff softly across the floor, walking with near silence, while each of Anzurin’s heavy steps echo around them. Apart from their footsteps, the only other sound is her slurping, once again reaching the end of a blood bag at an alarming pace. 
“Another?”
Maggie nods, looking up at him with large eyes, cheeks hollowing as she sucks out every last drop of blood. Anzurin pulls the next bag out of his pocket and takes the cap off of the spout. It’s bordering on worrisome, how much she’s drinking. Any fledgling, even a newly turned one that hadn’t yet fed, wouldn’t drink this much. The last time he saw anything this bad, it was a fledgling that had been turned but then buried in a coffin before they woke. The poor guy had been stuck there for three weeks before his creator finally stopped seeing humor in the situation and let him out. 
That was only three weeks of starvation, and Magdalena has already drank more than he did on his first day of freedom. Reasonably, she should have been satiated after draining Herra, and especially after drinking from Anzurin, but she’s still going. Still starving. 
Anzurin glances at his wrist, fine now, but where she’d shredded his skin with her teeth before. While he’s not as educated on the fledgling stages as his team of doctors are, he at least knows the basics, and judging by the size and sharpness of her fangs, he’d estimate that she’s a couple months old. 
But he doesn’t want to believe that that’s right. It can’t be. He hates to think that she has, in fact, been kept somewhere and starved for months at a time. He hates to think that she lost a large portion of her time as a fledgling to … to … to wherever she was, whatever happened to her. 
She growls and snarls at the few devilspawn that pass them on the short trek through the manor but doesn’t try to attack them, much to Anzurin’s relief. What is it about Anzurin’s fellow devilspawn that she hates so much that just the sight of them sets her off? Most, if not all, of the fledglings in the coven are asleep, as Magdalena should be, as Anzurin wishes he was. 
By the time they reach the medical wing of Anzurin’s coven, it seems like Magdalena might actually be calming down. She’s sipping a bit slower on her pre-packaged blood and that starving edge in her eyes is beginning to soften, being replaced by a cautious curiosity as she takes in everything around her. 
Anzurin stops in front of a heavy wooden door and knocks, a wary glance at Magdalena as they wait. 
After only a few seconds, Inessa Lucra, a vampire and Anzrun’s lead doctor, swings open the door, rubbing her eyes as if she’d just awoken. The pajamas she’s still wearing tell the same story. She glances between Anzurin and Magdalena, who doesn’t make a single noise, not so much as a grumble. 
Inessa’s red eyes widen at the sight of Magdalena covered in blood, gasping, “Oh, dear! What happened?” She grabs a jacket from the hook right next to her, slipping it on over her camisole as she steps out into the hallway with them. 
“New fledgling. Special circumstances. I’d like to put her through a full examination.” 
Every new fledgling does get a complete examination upon intake, so it’s not an odd request, but it’s rare that any come in covered in blood, and it’s even rarer than Anzurin himself comes to ask for one at this time. 
Inessa leads them back the way they just came, towards her offices. “So, what’s the deal?” she asks over her shoulder. 
“Not entirely certain.” He looks at Magdalena, who is looking at the bag of blood rather than drinking from it, tilting it back and forth. “Velur brought her in just a little bit ago. She was at his coven and killed a devilspawn, apparently. I’m not sure how old she is, but I’m estimating a few months. Velur should be bringing whoever is in charge of intake, so maybe they can tell us how long ago she was brought in.” 
Jamming a key into the door handle, Inessa uses her hip to bump it open when it gets stuck on the doorframe. “We’ll take a look at her. See what we’re dealing with.” 
“I compelled her to behave while you look at her, but … well, she likes to bite, Ness. She may still try to attack.” 
“Seems alright to me,” she says, glancing at where Magdalena stands motionless, eyes wide, and the pouch between her lips. Inessa ushers them through the waiting area and into an examination room. “Alright, let’s get you up on the bed and we’ll take a look at you.” Inessa points towards the plastic covered contraption that can hardly be defined as a bed. 
She doesn’t move, or even show that she heard Inessa at all, really. 
Anzurin says her name to get her attention, and she slowly blinks at him, that look in her eye once again as if she’s just realizing where she is. “This is Inessa,” he tells her cautiously. “She’s a doctor. She’s going to examine you, which means she’s going to have to touch you. Okay?” 
She nods jerkily and Anzurin allows himself to feel a fraction of relief at her cooperation. Only a little. 
He pats the plastic cot and nudges the step stool with his foot. “Sit up here, please.” 
Magdalena nods and does as he requests, and Anzurin finds it a bit endearing when she starts to swing her feet. What a gentle and joyful movement for a creature as bloodthirsty and vicious as her. 
Inessa steps forward, first walking a circle around the cot as she looks at Magdalena from all angles. She stops when she’s back in front of Magdalena and smiles warmly at her. “You like biting, right? Show me your teeth.” 
Magdalena bares her teeth as asked, tongue pushing against the back of them. They’re still coated in a thin layer of blood with red flesh stuck between some of them. 
Inessa pulls on a pair of blue gloves while she visually inspects Magdalena’s teeth, and asks, “May I?” before reaching towards her face. 
Magdalena freezes for a moment, then looks towards Anzurin, who gives her a small nod. Hesitant, she pulls her lips back even further and leans in towards Inessa, and – surprising Anzurin – she squeezes her eyes shut. She hardly even blinks, and the only time he’s seen her close her eyes was when she was so completely engrossed in feeding, but now, the way she squeezes them closed… well, it reminds Anzurin more of a grimace. Or a flinch. 
Inessa pinches Magdalena’s upper lip gently and pulls it up to inspect her gums, poking just above her fangs, then does the same to her bottom lip. Moving on, she presses her fingers just under Magdalena’s jawline, prodding. 
Finally, she pulls away, and Magdalena’s shoulders slump as she releases a breath and opens her eyes. 
“At least three months, maybe even four,” Inessa says, confirming Anzurin’s worries. “Her fangs are almost fully down already, and it feels like her venom glands are just starting to form.” She retrieves an instrument from the cabinets against the wall which she uses to look in Magdalena’s ears, noting, “Slight damage to the left side. Right looks fine.” 
Anzurin’s curiosity climbs. “Before or after being made?” 
“Before, I think. Hard to say for certain. You want the entire package, right? Labs, x-rays, all that?” 
Nodding, he says, “Better safe than sorry. We don’t know anything about her right now, and there’s clearly something to be known.” He checks the clock ticking away on the wall. Velur better return soon, and he better have some answers. 
Inessa performs a few more minor tests on Magdalena before she has her stand up for even more poking and prodding. Just when she’s beginning to look uncomfortable and like she might be feeling the urge to bite again, Inessa steps away. 
“Alright,” she sighs, clapping her hands. “Let’s go make sure everything’s alright on the inside. I’ll go get everything set up if you two want to give me a few minutes.”
“No rush. A break is probably a good idea.” 
As Magdalena’s gaze shifts to his neck, he pulls the last pouch out of his pocket, and her eyes light up, her hand shooting out to grab for it. She doesn’t even bother taking the cap off properly, biting it off instead, and as she squeezes the blood into her mouth, she keeps her unblinking stare pinned on his throat. 
---
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plum-pitt · 2 days ago
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X-Men Origins Rewrite
Ok I guess this is a follow up to this post i made not too long ago abt rewriting this shit, the brainworms rlly got to me here so you’re getting a follow up sooner than expected lol
Before I actually do any rewriting though I wanted to lay out the big changes I’d be making and why, mainly for myself as a guide and to organize my thoughts both about the original film’s issues and how these changes could potentially solve them, but also to allow anyone else with some ideas for possible changes to add their own thoughts or suggestions by engaging with the post.
As for what kind of final product you could possibly expect these ideas to result in, i haven’t quite decided if I want to just do an in depth outline for the story with my proposed changes or do like a full length fic novelization. It’ll probably depend on how motivated I still feel about the exercise by the time I’m finished and happy with the cleaned up outline, but I digress. Lets just go ahead and get into the changes I want to make:
Proposed Changes:
First off, I’m removing Blob and Gambit from this cut. I like both of the characters and think it’s cool they tried to include them but the cast is crammed enough as it is and those two serve very little narrative purpose that can’t be shifted to others just as easily.
Second, I’m adding Silverfox to Team X and letting that serve as the meeting point for her and Logan, it gives the audience more time to get to know her and come to care for her and Logan’s relationship, while also harkening back to the comics where she was also a part of the weapon x program. Also I know this isn’t a real film but let it be known that if it were i’d actually hire a Native American actress to portray her, i’m still shitty they whitewashed her.
Third, I’m removing the third act “Silverfox wasn’t really dead” twist. I really shouldn’t have to explain why, that shit was dumb and completely unnecessary, not to mention introducing a shit ton of plot holes with that whack ass mutant ability they pull from thin air. In my version she’s human(as far as we know) and when she dies she dies for real, full stop.
Fourth, we are GETTING a biblically accurate Deadpool. They did my bro dirty and I refuse to compromise on this. His role will be larger to compensate for his big ass personality and the fact that i’m affectively letting him take up Gambit’s role from the original in addition to what he already had. Also I just think he bounces off of Logan really well and could serve as a really interesting parallel with having such similar trauma and very different ways of responding to it and seeing the world. Like just imagine D&W if they accidentally traumabonded over their similar origin stories.
Fifth, I’m making Victor our stand in for the films Weapon XI! He doesnt get adamantium or new powers like Wade, only the dehumanizing psychological torture present in the original Weapon X comic. I think it works great for his spiraling arc, gives me a chance to squeeze a faithful weapon X adaptation in here without upending the entire film’s structure, and helps to better position his character on a trajectory towards his more feral appearance in X1 where he doesn’t seem to fully recognize Logan.
Sixth, I’d like to include Dr. Cornelius as the head scientist in Weapon X. My current concept is that he’s in charge of all the unethical mutant capturing and experimenting, working under Stryker’s supervision but still an outsider to the government, being sent in by Stryker’s most significant source of funding for his program in Nathaniel Essex. I know this has zero basis in canon I just think it sounds cool and makes sense for Sinister to have hands in a program aiming to create perfect mutant soldiers, as someone using mutants DNA to create a genetically perfect race of superhumans and become the ultimate life form. (Sinister would not play a large role, more of a looming presence pulling strings and fucking people over)
To get more overarching here, I wanted to hone in on the dynamics and themes present in the original that i thought had the most potential for further development. Victor’s spiral to madness and eventual complete loss of self under Stryker, Logan learning to let go of Victor’s influence and the violence that he let define his life only for both to drag him back after Silverfox’s demise. Really digging into that nature vs nurture shit, and adding more mutant politics (and their accompanying metaphors for the struggles of marginalized people) cuz honestly i feel like it’s absence in the original is very noticeable, and ties in really well with Logan’s arc of self acceptance and learning to see himself as more than the violent nature of his mutation.
Stuff I Still Want Changed:
Ok so here’s where I’m throwing my hat out for suggestions, because there are still a couple minor things present in the movie that i’m just not a fan of or don’t really know what to do with. The difference is, with these I can’t really think of tweaks that could fix/improve them. So if yall have any ideas on what I can do about these, or maybe some completely unrelated changes that you just think could improve the rewrite, please let me know.
One, not really sure what to do with Zero, he’s around for a lot of the movie but didn’t really stand out much to me. I just don’t know a lot about the character or what his deal is in the comics to find something cool to do with him. I’m going back and forth on if his role is ultimately necessary?? Does Stryker really need another henchman? Or should I use the space he occupies to hone in more on Victor and Logan’s rivalry? Idk i’m still on the fence so tell me what yall think.
Two, god I just fucking hate those memory wiping adamantium bullets. It’s such a stupid plot device that makes no sense conceptually and was clearly just thrown in as an afterthought at the last second like the writers forgot they needed to erase his memory by the end. That’s not to mention the fact that the bullets’ function was retconned later in Logan. Genuinely though I cannot find another way to go about fucking up Logan’s head without basically upending the structure of this movie in its entirety so any ideas on how to solve this dilemma are appreciated.
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skzhocomments · 1 day ago
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The Rising Empress (Bang Chan) - Chapter 11 - Setting the Plan in Motion
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General Masterlist
Story masterlist - please consult it for the summary of the story, trigger warnings etc.
Wattpad | AO3
Chapter 10 | Chapter 12
Taglist: @vxllxnsworld
---
Chapter 11 - Setting the Plan in Motion
Chapter word count: 3.4k words
“It was a smart move to give each court lady a bracelet.” Seungmin comments out of nowhere during one of their studying sessions, taking Aristia by surprise. However, she shows no change in expression, her lips in a straight line and her eyes focusing on the book Seungmin recommended she read in order to get more acquainted with the customs of the Empire.
“Thank you.” Is all she says.
“But a birdie told me that you’ve also commissioned some other interesting items.”
This finally takes her eyes out of the book, her attention shifting completely.
“What?” She shows a smile that could be perceived as naïve, although it’s anything but.
“You tell me.”
“Must I?” She puts her pen down, leaning back into her chair.
“You can’t trust the goldsmith, Your Highness. He told His Majesty about the keys the moment you sent that order.”
Aristia continues to smile, much to Seungmin’s surprise.
“Your silence tells me something that I’m not inclined to believe… Did you know he’d do that?”
“Of course I knew, Seungmin.” She chuckles brightly. “Do you think I’m so naïve as to put my trust in someone who’s worked for the Imperial Family for his entire life?”
“What do they unlock?”
“Nothing.” Aristia shrugs. “They are just some small tokens for my friends. Mere necklaces to match my own.”
This was far from the truth, but Seungmin once again had no business knowing the Empress’ secrets, much more so when they could be considered high treason.
The ladies that picked up those keys had no way of knowing about it either, foolish girls. They got blinded by Aristia’s promises and didn’t realise what their end on the deal would entail. The price they’d pay if her husband would ever find out about her plan would be way too grave, so she hopes it wouldn’t come to that before she’s had enough time to put it in motion.
Aristia figured out how little she trusts Chris as she cooked up this plan: a way of stopping the war from breaking out before it even begins, or, if it’s too late, a way of winning for sure. She only hopes she’s right and that things would go smoothly, but only time would tell.
Noticing Seungmin’s burning gaze in her forehead, she realises that Seungmin might understand her a bit more than she thought he could. He is, however, one of Chan’s right-hand men, and trusting him might be too dangerous.
She bites her tongue back and turns her eyes once more at the large book in front of her, signalling that the conversation is over.
“Your Majesty, I deeply apologise for interrupting your studying session.” Changbin bows apologetically after abruptly entering her study.
“Is anything wrong?” Aristia smiles softly.
“His Highness has requested your presence for dinner.”
“Has he?” Aristia raises a curious brow.
Chris has been busy this past week, and they haven’t spent any time together since the greenhouse lunch with the ladies when he surprised her with a visit.
“Yes. Alice is waiting for you to prepare you for dinner.” Changbin bows again.
“Then, this is it for today, I’m afraid.” She looks at Seungmin who nods briefly.
“Make sure to finish reading that by tomorrow evening.” He points to the book, but before Aristia has the chance to reply, Changbin intervenes.
“Seungmin, watch your manners. You’re in the presence of The Moon of the Empire, our Empress.” He scolds immediately, and Seungmin throws him a look that could only express Are you serious?!
Still, he obliges and bows down respectfully.
“My apologies, Your Highness. It seems I have been out of line.”
Aristia nods and asks Changbin to pick up the book, and then goes to her room to get changed.
~
Alice insists once more to pamper Aristia up with everything she’s got, and the Empress finds it quite amusing how a mere 14-year-old girl is ordering around Mari and Juliana. She dislikes wearing intricate clothing or heavy jewellery, but “It’s the custom!” and “You’re the Empress!”, so she eventually gives in and lets Alice have her way with her clothes and hair.
An hour and a half later, she’s ready to go have dinner with her husband.
The moment she steps through the door, she notices that all the plates have already been brought, and Chris makes everyone get out to give them privacy.
“Good evening, husband.” She smiles brightly, watching his grave eyes that quickly soften up at the sight of her.
He stands up and grabs her hand, kissing her knuckles softly.
“My dearest wife.” He helps her sit down, then joins her at the table once more.
Aristia certainly didn’t expect this warm welcome, and her heart skips a beat.
She was expecting Chris to ask her about why she hadn't worn the necklace, or to inquire about the small keys she had crafted, just as Seungmin did, but the Emperor did none of that.
Instead, he asked her about her studies, listened closely to her words and smiled ever so often while gently touching her hand on the table.
The dinner went by pleasantly.
“You are a breath of fresh air; did you know that?” Chris says all of a sudden, while Aristia takes a bite of one of the cupcakes on the table.
“How so?” She asks, and her heart skips a beat again, then does rounds in her chest that suddenly feels too tight to contain the growing feelings inside.
“You just are. By the way, have I told you that you were right about the contaminated water? Hyunjin and his team checked it out, and they’ve found one of the sources. Apparently, some of the countrymen were throwing out animal waste into a river, polluting the water in the process.”
“Really?” Aristia gasps. “Wow, I’m glad they’ve identified it!”
"I'm afraid it's simply one of the many other polluted waters throughout the Empire..."
"They'll identify the others in no time, don't worry." She smiles assuringly.
“Aristia, I missed you.” Chris says all of a sudden, happy to notice the excitement in his wife’s gaze.
“You work too much.” She pouts, not wanting to confess how much she’s missed him too.
She doesn’t trust him, but her feelings for him grow each time they spend time apart, and then grow some more when they meet.
“I have to.” He shrugs, grabbing his wine glass and giving it a swirl, then bringing it to his lips and taking a big gulp. “With the upcoming war, it’s quite a stressful time, you know?”
“Maybe we shouldn’t have killed-” Aristia starts in a quiet voice, so quiet, it almost sounds like a whisper.
“He had it coming.” Chris cuts her off hastily. “How dare he harm you in your own home? I get angry just thinking about it.”
“He’s done it my whole life. It wasn’t that surprising, honestly.” She replies dejected, and he gets the same sinking feeling in his stomach as when he’s seen her wounds while Mari took her out of the bloodied bath water.
He feels sick for not paying more attention, for not even bothering to spend any time with her whatsoever before her dear father paid them a visit. If only he wouldn’t have shut her out, if only… If only he would’ve done better, nothing would’ve happened to her.
Does she consider this palace home, he wonders? Or is she still feeling suffocated by the castle’s walls?
And what about him? Sure, they’ve spent a night together, but are her feelings genuine?
As he watches her eyes intensely, he fails to see his own reflection. Instead, he sees that beautiful spark that made him fall in love with her, for he’s now certain he’s fallen, deep and hard.
“What is it?” She asks with a soft smile on her lips.
“Your eyes are very beautiful.” He smiles back sincerely and wishes he could tell her more, but it feels too early for the frightening I love you, although judging by the way his heart beats in his chest, even I love you would fall short.
“Is that so?” She chuckles. “Do you like their colour?”
“You could say that.” He nods, although his words are partly insincere. It’s not the colour of her eyes that drive him crazy.
It’s not the colour of her eyes that make him lean over the table and grab her chin, then capture her lips in a fevered kiss, taking her by surprise and making her gasp. It’s that powerful burning in them that almost knocks him out of his chair every time she’s determined to do something, and for quite some time, that sparkle hasn’t gone away from her gaze.
He wonders what she’s plotting, but he doesn’t want to come across as distrusting, so he doesn’t ask anything. Instead, he sits back in his chair as if nothing happened, as if he hasn’t just kissed her, making two deep lines form in-between Aristia’s brows.
“What was-”
“Aristia.” Chris calls her name to stop her from asking him about it. He doesn’t know what he would answer. He might end up confessing otherwise.
“Yes?”
“May I do that again?”
“… Yes.”
This time, Chris stands up properly and helps her out of her chair by handing her his right hand, just as the customs say he should.
She accepts his help, which brings a smile to his lips. It’s the first time she’s accepted his help, quite the contrast to when her back was cut open and she needed to be bandaged.
They look into each other’s eyes for a few short moments, before Chris leans in and presses his lips on hers, softly this time. His hands move to her waist, keeping a steady hold, and Aristia reciprocates, placing her arms around his neck and pulling him closer.
Her back arches under his palms and she roses on her tiptoes as their kiss deepens. She missed his touch badly, and Chris missed hers even more.
Feelings start blooming in Aristia’s chest each time the Emperor’s tongue is touching hers, and a new emotion grows in her heart. She wants him all for herself, she needs him more than anything in this very moment, and no matter how close he is to her, he isn’t close enough.
“Please take this off.” She speaks between hurried breaths, pointing to his top, and he’s never undressed quicker before.
She also makes haste and takes off her dress, and their bodies get tangled on top of his large mattress, Chris’ body on top of hers, in between her legs.
Aristia pants for air when he breaks their kiss to position his member against her entrance, and as he pushes in, this time with no patience or hesitation, she lets out a loud moan, quickly muffled by his mouth back on hers.
They make love passionately, and it feels so intense, Aristia is quick to let go and roll her head back as Chris bottoms out into her numerous times in quick succession.
He releases himself inside of her soon after and plops down next to her on the messy bed, hugging her tightly and whispering sweet words in her ear that make her blush.
She wishes she could just focus on these happy moments and simply forget the first year he hasn’t paid her any mind, but she can’t.
As he falls asleep next to her, completely defenceless, she simply can’t let go of the pain in her heart. She can’t trust him. She can’t.
She wishes she could, but her growing feelings for him don’t overcome the anxiety that something might go wrong, that he could change his mind any moment and go back to treating her coldly.
She is afraid that if she were to trust him at all, to tell him about what she’s been thinking about – how to stop the war –, he would simply dismiss her, and she will once again feel small, powerless, a fake.
Thus, it’s impossible to fall asleep, so her mind stays sharp, and she thinks over the plan she’s made in her head about a million times. She pieced together all the puzzle pieces, so now, all that’s left to do is execute it.
~
“Changbin, will you please go to Felix and let him know that I’d like us to have tea together this afternoon?” Aristia smiles sweetly as Changbin and her are strolling through the gardens.
“Oh, I thought you didn’t want to meet him today.” The guard replies, completely charmed by her.
He’s grown to admire his Empress ever since he started serving her and being such a close attendant, which is a common effect between all the other people Aristia’s worked with so far. Seungmin feels the same way, noticing how sharp her mind is, and Chris is in even deeper.
They all admire her; if only she’d see it as well.
“Well, I’ve changed my mind.” She shrugs and chuckles.
“But, still… I wouldn’t like to leave you alone. What if something were to happen?” He frowns, shaking his head.
“What could possibly happen? We are inside the castle’s walls.” Aristia dismisses him entirely. “I’d like to enjoy the warm air a bit more, so I’d really appreciate it if you could send word to Prince Felix and let me bask in the sun.”
“Well… do you promise you’ll stay put, though? I truly don’t want you to be in any danger…” He is still hesitant, but Aristia immediately calms him down and convinces him to leave her.
“Of course, Changbin. I’ll stay here, don’t worry.”
She is glad that Changbin is her personal guard, but he can sometimes be too overprotective, which could end up messing with her plans. However, once he gives in and leaves her alone, she immediately stands up and heads towards the knights’ practice session.
She consulted their schedule carefully over the past few days, to make sure everything goes according to plan.
Precisely as she intended, she arrives just in time for the practice to be over, and she sees Victoria’s brother – Victor – heading his merry way away from the other knights. She starts walking towards him with resolve, and as he bows in her direction, she trips and falls, wincing in pain and putting on the perfect show in front of this young boy, convincing enough to make him run towards her and help her up.
“Your Highness, are you alright? Can you stand?” He hurries over and aids her in standing up, however, she is quick to lean into him and complain about the pain in her right foot.
“I think I might’ve sprained my ankle…” She furrows her brows and puts on a pained expression.
“Oh, no! What should we do?” The young boy ponders. “I will go summon a doctor immediately and-”
“No, that’s not necessary. I’d rather you carried me back to my room, and I’ll ask my maids to summon the doctor instead.” She talks him into it, and he doesn’t give it any further thought.
He immediately bends down to allow her to jump on his back, and hurries towards her chambers.
“Thank you so much. What is your name?” She asks once they are inside of her room, with Mari examining her foot and Alice frantically running out the door to summon Hyunjin.
“It’s Victor Silverstone, Your Highness.” He bows politely.
“Your Highness, what happened?!” Changbin runs through the door and kneels down on one knee in front of her bed.
“I happened to trip and fall, but thankfully,  Victor was there to help me.” She explains.
“I shouldn’t have gone to Prince Felix…” Changbin shakes his head, disappointed in himself. “If I were there, I could’ve-”
“No, Changbin. Please don’t overthink this too much.” She cuts him off. “It must be difficult for you to be my only guard, as you always have to be available to me, no matter the time of day, and if I also make you run errands, it becomes almost impossible for you to manage.”
“Not at all, Your Highness.” He immediately denies, and Aristia smiles softly.
“No, I’m sure it’s hard. What if we’d appoint one more guard for me? I think Victor has great potential. He rushed over to help me, kept his calm and obeyed my commands perfectly.”
Changbin looks the boy up and down, not entirely convinced.
“I’m not sure, Your Highness… He is still young and inexperienced.”
“Still, he’s helped me when I needed it, and he deserves a reward for it. What higher honour than to be one of my personal guards? That way, you’d also be able to focus on the upcoming war preparations, and train more, to become even stronger for me.” Aristia insists, and with each word leaving her mouth, Changbin begins agreeing with her more and more.
She certainly has a way with words, to make everyone else around her agree with her ideas.
“This could be a good thing, I guess… It would certainly be good to have more people guarding you, and Silverstone is a great individual from a great family…” Changbin ponders.
“What do you think, Victor?” Aristia turns to the boy, who immediately kneels on one knee and takes out his sword, presenting it to her.
“It would be the greatest honour to guard Her Highness the Moon of the Empire. I pledge my sword and my unwavering loyalty and dedicate myself to your service.” Victor declares, committing himself entirely to Aristia.
She accepts his sword and grabs it by the handle, turning it around and tapping it on his shoulders.
“It’s decided, then.” She smiles. “Thank you for your service, and for pledging your loyalty to me.”
“I thank you for providing me with the opportunity to serve you.”
“Changbin, you can take the rest of the day off, and please go inform my husband about taking Victor Silverstone out of any other obligations.” She instructs further. “Victor, you may go wait outside.”
“Understood, Your Highness.” The boy bows and exits without a word more, and Changbin follows soon after, when Hyunjin walks through the door.
“Your ankle doesn’t seem to be sprained.” He remarks, examining her foot thoroughly.
“It hurt so bad, though. I must’ve stepped on my foot wrong in my heels.” Aristia explains, to which Hyunjin agrees with a nod of his head.
“You were lucky this time, but please make sure to be more careful from now on.”
And now, with everyone gone from her room, she finally relaxes and smiles to herself.
Her end of the deal towards Victoria has been kept; it is unlikely that Victor would have to join any wars at the borders from this point forward.
Now, it’s her turn to return the favour.
~
“An information guild?” Victoria eyes the Empress carefully.
“Mhm. I need to send a very important letter in utmost secrecy, and the only way to do so would be through an information guild that can’t get tracked back to me.” Aristia replies holding the small envelope tightly with her hands.
“If I may…who exactly… is the letter addressed to…?” Victoria asks, her voice quiet.
“My half-sister.”
When Aristia responds, it feels like all the air in the room disappears. Victoria looks shocked and doesn’t know what to do, or how to reply.
“Your… your half-sister?” She asks in a whisper, her chest tightening.
When Aristia simply nods, handing her the sealed letter, Victoria shuts her eyes and breaths in deeply.
“But, Your Highness… your half-sister is… the enemy…”
“Yes. I am aware of that. That’s why it needs to be done this way.” Aristia clarifies.
“I know you’ve taken my brother in your care, and I am deeply grateful that he doesn’t have to go on the battlefield anymore, but… this is too much. You’re essentially asking me to betray the crown. I could lose my head…” Victoria hesitates, but still, she leans over and grabs the envelope with shaky hands. “You could lose yours.”
“Indeed. If my husband were to find out…” She averts her gaze. “This must stay between us, Victoria, and I will continue to uphold my end of the deal.”
“May I at least know of the letter’s contents?” She asks, holding the envelope tighter.
“It’s… a proposal. A way to stop the war from happening. Now, I’m not sure what the outcome of this will be, so it’s better to just keep it to ourselves for the time being…”
“Your Majesty, I hope you haven’t signed this letter. In case someone discovers before it reaches its destination-”
“Yes, Victoria, don’t worry. It doesn’t have my signature or my seal. If, by any chance, this letter would be discovered before reaching my sister’s hands, we will insist it’s been forged.”
“Then, how will your sister know it’s you who’s written it?” Victoria inquires.
“I told you this before, but please leave these details to me. That’s for me to worry about.”
“Your Highness, this task you’ve entrusted me with is extremely difficult… However, I will do my best to make sure this letter gets to your sister safely.”
“I also need you to deliver this other letter to the information guild you choose, as well as whichever remuneration they’re asking for. This is crucial for the future of our Empire, Victoria. I hope you trust me and my intentions. Everything I am doing is for the Empire, even if it seems otherwise.” Aristia insists, giving the woman a second letter.
Victoria simply nods and exits the room with haste.
~
Chapter 10 | Chapter 12
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whosscruffylooking · 15 hours ago
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Open Arms Chapter One
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steve harrington x fem!reader word count : 6k Rewrite/Character Insert of Stranger Things ~1984~ This chapter takes place during Season 2 Episodes 1-5
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Another day in Hawkins. Another day of high school. Another day stuck in the same small, sleepy town you’ve known for as long as you can remember. It feels like nothing ever changes here, like every day just blurs into the next, predictable and quiet.
Every day, you wake up wishing for some kind of miracle, something that could shake things up, make life a little less ordinary. Something that could turn your world… Upside Down.
“Y/N!” your mom calls out from the kitchen, “Is Steve giving you a ride today?”
You scoff, rolling your eyes. “Mom, seriously…when was the last time Steve drove me to school? He has a girlfriend to pick up now.”
Steve, your best friend since the first grade. To everyone else he was The Reigning King of Hawkins High. To you he was just the boy next door who reigns havoc on your life, makes everything a little more complicated whether you want it or not. 
Your mom hums thoughtfully. “Maybe it’s time you found yourself a boyfriend.”
“I’m perfectly fine, thanks.”
She gives a little shrug. “I’m just saying, wouldn’t it be nice to be taken out on a date once in a while?”
“Mom,” you sigh, “please take your matchmaking somewhere else.”
She’s not wrong, though. You haven’t let yourself even think about dating anyone else since the last “almost” with Steve. Around a year ago, he’d done something reckless enough to mess up things with Nancy, and she seemed to be getting closer to Jonathan Byers. You had just gotten out of a relationship yourself. 
It happens every time: he messes things up with a girl, or you’re fresh out of a breakup, and suddenly, like clockwork, you’re back in each other’s lives, circling each other. It’s as if you’re both bound to this endless cycle of almosts—falling together just to fall apart again. You know the game by heart, and you’re tired of it, tired of the late nights that never lead to anything real, the unspoken words that hang heavy in the air between you both. But still, you can’t seem to let go.
Nothing ever actually happens. You just end up crashing at each other’s houses, watching movies till you both fall asleep, or driving out to Lover’s Lake to stargaze and rant about your trainwreck love lives. But you both know what it is—and what it isn’t. The truth is, you’re bound by a history no one else could touch. Growing up together, you made the stupid decision of being a lot of each other’s firsts, and you’ve always been the one person who truly gets him. It’s a bond that runs deeper than most things in your life, yet it never seems to go anywhere beyond these stolen moments. And maybe that’s why it hurts the most—knowing he’s always right there but never fully yours.
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At school, you overhear the girls in the hallway whispering about the new guy in town. Though “guy” isn’t the word they use—they’re calling him a real man, with a muscle car to match and actual muscles to back it up. You’ve never been the type to shy away from guys, and you’ve certainly never had any trouble attracting attention. Still, something about the way they talk about him piques your curiosity, though you’d never admit it.
You notice the once-empty locker beside yours is finally in use, a few things tossed inside. You wonder briefly who claimed it. That curiosity doesn’t last long.
“Excuse me, gorgeous, but I think that’s my locker.”
You turn to find the living, breathing embodiment of the girls’ descriptions. Tall, sharp-jawed, with piercing blue eyes, and that effortless, cocky grin. You don’t even have to ask if it’s him.
“Oh—my bad,” you say, stepping aside.
“And what’s your name?” he asks, his smile unwavering.
Who does he remind you of?
“Y/N…” You try to pinpoint it, that nagging sense of familiarity.
He tosses his keys into the locker, eyes still fixed on yours, something almost playful in his gaze.
Then it hits you.
“I’m—”
“Knight Rider?” you say slyly, a smirk playing at your lips. He blushes just a little, caught off guard, and you savor the small victory.
“Well played,” he says, taking your hand into his for a confident but gentle shake.
“That’s just the beginning,” you respond, shutting your locker with a quiet click, eager to keep the mystery between you two alive.
“I hope so. I’m Billy by the way,” he replies, his voice softer now, still slightly in awe of you. There’s something in his eyes—a challenge. And you can tell, he’s baited.
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At lunch, you find yourself walking through the crowded cafeteria, scanning the room for a familiar face. As luck would have it, you bump into Nancy and Steve near the food line.
“Hey,” Steve greets, his voice laced with a hint of curiosity. “What did you think of the new guy? Total douche, right?”
You catch the look on his face, a mix of hope and something else you can’t quite place. It’s clear he’s fishing for your opinion, eager for you to agree with him.
You shrug, trying to keep your tone casual, though you can’t hide the small smirk tugging at your lips. “I mean…” Your voice comes out just a bit higher than usual, betraying your uncertainty. “He’s like the entire cast of The Outsiders wrapped up in one package.” You leave it at that, the playful jab hanging in the air between you three.
Nancy chuckles, gripping her tray closely as she looks between you and Steve. You take the opportunity to point at her, nodding toward Steve. “Looks like your girl might agree with me too.”
Nancy gasps and bursts into laughter. “I don’t know, I guess. He’s not really my type though.”
You smirk, not missing a beat. “That’s so funny, because I’m pretty sure I saw a David Hasselhoff photo in your locker just last week?”
Steve’s face falls slightly, and you catch the brief flash of disappointment in his eyes. “Oh please,” he says, his tone a bit too defensive, “he is not David Hasselhoff.”
“Knight Rider,” Nancy interjects, her eyes darting between you and Steve. You both freeze, caught off guard.
“What?” You ask, happy she sees the resemblance too.
Nancy looks back and forth between you two, realization dawning on her. “He has the car, the curls, and the mus—muscle car.”
You raise an eyebrow, teasing her. “You just said the car twice. Sure you didn’t mean another kind of muscle?”
Nancy giggles at your comment, but Steve pushes you playfully, though there’s a layer of something more in his touch—like he’s trying to keep things light but it doesn’t quite feel like it used to.
“Have I told you that I hate you?” Steve mutters under his breath, though it’s more playful than anything else.
You smile, your tone laced with the usual teasing. “All too often.”
But as you both lock eyes, something shifts. It’s not just a playful exchange anymore. The usual banter feels heavy now, the space between you both thick with unspoken words. Steve’s smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and you wonder if he’s feeling the same distance creeping between you two that you’ve been trying so hard to ignore. You quickly look away, forcing the feeling down as Nancy continues to laugh, unaware of the sudden tension lingering.
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You’re walking down the hall, a few steps ahead of Steve, the sounds of lockers slamming and voices all around you fading as the tension between you both hangs in the air. Every time you glance over your shoulder, his gaze is already on you—lingering, just a bit too long.
You both fall into an uneasy silence. It’s not the comfortable quiet you used to share, but something heavier. Something unspoken.
You stop for a moment, unsure of what to say. “I’ll see you in class,” you murmur, turning to leave.
But Steve’s voice stops you. “Hey,” he calls softly, his hand brushing yours as he steps into your path. His touch is warm, too warm for something so casual. His fingers linger for a split second before he pulls away, but the moment still sits between you, unresolved.
You look up, meeting his eyes. His usual cocky confidence is gone, replaced by something more vulnerable. It’s almost as if he’s waiting for you to say something, anything to break the silence.
“Steve…” You don’t know what you’re going to say. You want to say something that makes it all feel normal again, but the words feel stuck in your throat.
He opens his mouth, hesitates, then shuts it again. “Never mind.” The smile he forces doesn’t reach his eyes again. It’s strained, tight. And suddenly, you can’t look at him anymore.
Turning quickly, you walk past him, your heartbeat pounding in your ears.
From down the hall, Nancy watches the exchange, arms folded, leaning against the locker as she observes. There’s no jealousy in her gaze—she’s been there too. She knows the space between two people who care for each other but don’t know how to bridge it. She’s seen it with Jonathan, with the way they get tangled in unspoken words and moments that feel like too much, but too little at the same time. It’s just the way things go sometimes.
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*Flashback*
1 year ago
It’s a Friday afternoon, and the hallways of Hawkins High are quieter than usual. Most of the students have gone home, leaving the echoes of footsteps and lockers slamming shut. You and Steve are walking side by side, the familiar warmth of his presence at your side like it always has been—comforting, easy.
You laugh as Steve pulls an exaggerated face, trying to get you to laugh at his antics as he mimics one of the teachers. You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the smile spreading across your face.
“You’re such an idiot,” you tease, nudging him with your shoulder.
He bumps you back, almost knocking you into the lockers. “You love me for it,” he smirks, and there’s a hint of something else in his gaze, something unspoken that lingers between you, like a question neither of you has the courage to ask.
You roll your eyes again, but there’s no denying the way your heart skips. “Yeah, maybe,” you say, trying to brush it off. But you both know that maybe means something more.
You reach the end of the hallway, your steps slowing as the moment stretches, neither of you wanting to be the first to turn back, to end this rare, quiet time between just the two of you.
He glances over at you, his steps slowing, his voice quieter when he speaks again. “Hey, so… Bryan still around?”
You stop walking, surprised by the question, but it’s Steve, and it’s always been easy with him. “No,” you reply, shaking your head. “He’s out of the picture.”
Steve’s expression softens, a slight smile playing on his lips as if the weight of something between you two has been lifted. “Good. He never really seemed like the right guy for you.”
Your breath catches slightly at the unexpected warmth in his words, but you don’t let it show. “Yeah, well… sometimes you don’t really see things until it’s too late.”
Steve nods, looking down for a moment as if he’s trying to decide something. He looks back up at you, his usual carefree grin returning. “Well, if you’re not busy tonight, you wanna come over to my place? We can grab some takeout, watch movies… you know, normal hangout stuff.”
There’s something in his invitation that feels different this time, but you brush it off. It’s Steve. He always invites you over. You’ve done it a million times before—movies, pizza, talking about everything and nothing. It’s what you do.
“Yeah,” you agree, “sounds good.”
Steve’s eyes flicker down to your lips, then back to your eyes, his expression shifting. You feel your stomach flutter, the air between you thickening as the playful banter dies down.
You find yourself leaning in, just a bit, and you see Steve’s breath catch, the tip of his nose almost brushing yours.
But before you can get any closer, a loud bang from down the hall makes both of you snap apart like you’ve been caught.
You both step back, instantly awkward, eyes darting everywhere except at each other. The spell breaks, but the tension still lingers, heavy in the air. You glance at Steve, and his expression is unreadable—like he’s trying to hide something, or maybe it’s you who’s hiding it.
You break the silence first, a half-laugh escaping your lips. “Well… that was close.”
Steve rubs the back of his neck, looking embarrassed but also relieved. “Yeah, totally. We’re just—uh, messing around, right?”
You nod, trying to brush it off, but your heart is racing, and you know he feels it too. “Right. Just messing around.”
But neither of you says anything more. You both head in opposite directions down the hallway, still feeling the echo of what almost happened, both of you wondering if the other is thinking about it too.
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At last, it’s the day of the party. You’ve spent longer than you’d like to admit getting ready, but you’re finally happy with your look. Blue bell-bottom jeans, a tight orange top with a center zip that falls just below the line of modesty—it’s bold, but you feel good in it. Confident, even.
You arrive at the party, a mix of excitement and nerves swirling inside you. The music pulses through the house, and people are scattered, laughing and talking, their faces blurry in the haze of a dimly lit room. As much as you try to act like you don’t care, the anxiety creeps in. Funny how someone so confident can still feel out of place in a crowd.
You push through, trying to find your core group, but as you weave through the bodies, there’s really only one person you’re looking for. Steve. The one person who has always had a way of making you feel like you belong.
On your way through the crowd, you bump into Jonathan Byers. Another one of your longtime friends. You’ve all grown up together in Hawkins, so you’ve seen each other through the years—some friendships stronger than others, but still, it’s hard to forget those familiar faces.
“Jonathan!” you call out with a smile, pulling him into a quick hug. “Loving the look, very you.” You nod at his usual, low-key style—flannel and jeans. He’s always been the quiet, thoughtful one in the group, and you just want him to feel good about his understated vibe.
“I like… your shirt,” he says, his words trailing off awkwardly.
Well, at least your shirt is doing what you intended it to. Maybe just not with the target audience.
“Looking for Nancy?” you ask, hoping he’ll pick up the conversation.
“Yeah,” Jonathan responds, his hands shoved in his pockets. “I don’t really associate with anyone else here.”
You put on a mock-offended face, “Ouch.”
He immediately backpedals, realizing how it sounded. “I mean, you were gone for a while. We kinda lost touch.” His gaze drops a little, clearly uncomfortable, referring to the time when your parents separated again, and you spent some months with your mom in California. It had been a rough time for you, especially being away from Steve. You’re still not sure how you survived that.
“Well, I’m back now,” you say, brushing off the past. “Come on, join me. I’m on a mission to find Steve and Nancy.”
Jonathan nods, grateful for the company. “Alright, lead the way.”
And there he is, leaning against the wall by the kitchen, laughing at something someone said, a bottle of beer loosely held in his hand. He’s effortlessly cool as usual, but there’s something different tonight. Maybe it’s the way his eyes flicker over to Nancy every now and then, or the tightness in his posture that betrays the casual air he’s trying to maintain.
Nancy stands next to him, arms crossed, her jaw clenched in that familiar way when she’s upset—though it’s hard to say if it’s the alcohol or something else that’s fueling her frustration tonight. She’s leaning a little too heavily on the counter, her face flushed, the words she’s muttering barely audible over the noise of the party.
Steve’s smile is gone now, replaced by a more serious expression. He’s trying to keep things light, but it’s clear she’s not having it. 
As you and Jonathan walk toward the kitchen, you spot Steve and Nancy in their little world, tucked away by the counter. You can hear the edge in Nancy’s voice, even from a distance, though you can’t make out the words. Jonathan follows your gaze, his brow furrowing. You can’t blame him for looking the way he does—he’s been around long enough to know the dance between Steve and Nancy.
“Is she okay?” you ask, your voice quiet, though it feels more like an automatic question than one you really expect an answer to. You’ve seen enough of this cycle to know the routine.
Jonathan glances over, shaking his head just slightly. “I don’t think so,” he says, a rare seriousness in his tone. “But you know Nancy. She’ll push through.”
You feel the knot in your stomach tighten as you watch Steve’s stance shift, his body leaning toward Nancy as if trying to reach her without crowding her, trying to give her space but also not let her slip too far away. There’s something fragile in the air, something more than just the tension between them. It’s like Steve’s holding on by a thread, and maybe Nancy is, too, but neither of them wants to admit it.
“You should probably go talk to them,” Jonathan says, glancing at you. He doesn’t know what to say either, but it’s obvious that Steve’s been trying to manage things on his own. You could step in—or let him handle it.
You glance at Jonathan again, silently debating what to do. Jonathan nudges you gently with his elbow. “You good?” he asks. You nod, taking a step forward, your voice hesitant but warm. “Hey, guys, what’s going on?” you ask, trying to break through the tension without adding to it.
Nancy shoots you a sharp look before turning away, but Steve doesn’t seem to mind. He’s got that defeated, yet resigned, look on his face as he exhales deeply. He’s trying to hide it, but the frustration is written all over him.
“Just the usual,” Steve says with a small, forced smile, looking at you.
Nancy, still with her arms crossed, shoots you a look that says more than her words do. It’s not that she’s mad at you; it’s just that she doesn’t want to be the center of attention right now. She’s not ready to have the conversation.
Jonathan stands by you, hands in his pockets, waiting for you to say something. You don’t know what the right thing is. The silence in the room is thick now.
“I’m gonna go get another drink,” Nancy slurs, her words trailing off as she pushes past Steve, who’s still trying to calm her down.
“Please don’t,” Steve says, his voice low and frustrated, but he’s too late. He sighs and chases after her, leaving you standing alone for the moment.
Not long after, a voice you’re starting to recognize from the past few days calls out from behind you.
“So if I’m Knight Rider, then who does that make you?” Billy’s voice is smooth, cocky, and unmistakable. He’s standing just a few feet away now, that grin still plastered on his face.
You turn to meet his gaze, letting a playful smile tug at the corners of your lips. You raise an eyebrow, a silent challenge in your eyes. “You’ll have to learn more about me to find out.”
He steps a little closer, eyes narrowing with amusement. “When?”
The question hangs in the air, and for a split second, you feel that old rush of excitement—the thrill of the unknown. Remembering your mom’s less-than-subtle hints this morning, you decide to play along.
“How about Wednesday night? We can go see the new Terminator movie. You look like someone who appreciates a little Arnold Schwarzenegger,” you say, testing the waters, letting a hint of flirtation slip into your voice.
Billy doesn’t hesitate, that confident grin of his widening. “It’s a date. I’ll pick you up. And…I’ve been to the gym Arnold works out in.” 
You raise your hand to stop him, a slight smirk on your face. “Right…I’m sure you have. Also, I’ve seen how you drive your car. Maybe I’ll meet you there,” you tease, enjoying the playful banter.
He chuckles, stepping back, his eyes twinkling with a mischievous glint. “I’ll go nice and slow just for you.”
You can’t help but laugh at that, the tension between you both shifting into something lighter, something you haven’t felt in a while. But as you look past him, your eyes flicker briefly to Steve, catching him trying to pry the solo cup out of Nancy’s hand. Just as the music halts, that red solo cup and the red mystery punch within it spills all over Nancy’s white shirt. 
Her face is in complete disbelief, she sways back and forth her reaction clearly slowed down by her alcohol intake.
“Screw you.” 
Jonathan follows her quickly into the bathroom. 
“You know,” Billy starts again, “Rumor has it that you and Harrington have quite the colorful history? Why is it that you two aren’t prom king and queen this year?” 
Something in Billy’s tone instantly makes you second-guess your plans for Wednesday. His fading smirk tells you he’s noticed the flash of disdain on your face.
“What does it matter if you’re the one taking me on a date Wednesday?” you say, your voice edged with a warning. You’re feeling oddly protective over you and Harrington’s history, a past that’s none of Billy’s business.
Billy raises an eyebrow, caught off guard but intrigued. “Fair enough,” he replies, but the cocky glint in his eyes lingers, as if he’s still sizing up the situation.
Shortly after, you spot Steve storming out of the bathroom alone, Nancy nowhere in sight. His expression is tense as he heads straight for the drink station, a familiar frustration in his stride. You catch a glimpse of Jonathan making his way toward Nancy, so you turn to Billy with a polite excuse and make your way over to Steve.
“Hey, you don’t need to be drinking any more right now,” you say, noticing that Steve has downed two cups of punch in the short walk it took to reach him.
“I’ve got a pretty damn good reason to,” he mutters, his jaw tight as he opens a beer.
“Steve, you don’t have to tell me what happened, but at least think about the fact that you still have to drive home,” you warn, trying to keep your tone light.
He shrugs, avoiding your eyes. “You can drive me.”
“I never volunteered for that,” you reply, crossing your arms.
For a moment, he looks at you, really looks at you, and you can tell he’s realizing that things are different. You’re not just there to pick up his pieces anymore. You have your own life to live tonight—a party to enjoy, and maybe even boys to dance with. The weight of another round of Steve-and-Nancy drama? That’s not something you’re willing to carry this time.
“You’re right,” Steve says, setting the beer down with a sigh. “I’ll just go sit out on the porch and sober up a bit. Then I’ll head out. And I wanna make sure Nancy gets home safe.”
You give his arm a quick squeeze, silently admiring that, even in the middle of an argument, he’s still looking out for her. That is… until his gaze drifts to the front door, where he sees Jonathan helping a barely-standing Nancy out to his car.
Crap.
“Go sit on the porch. I’ll be right there,” you say quickly, hinting you’ll handle it. You rush outside to catch up with Jonathan. “You know how this looks, right?”
Jonathan gives a solemn nod. “She asked me.”
Nancy lifts her head slightly, her words slurred and muddled. “I don’t want… Steve to take me home. Not Steve. I want to see Barb’s parents. Take me to Barb’s house.”
You pause, taken aback. “Barb’s parents? Why do you want to see Barb’s parents right now?”
Jonathan stiffens, worry flickering in his eyes. “Uh, I really think I should get her home now. Maybe check on Steve too.”
Without another word, they’re off, leaving you standing in the night with a sense of unease. You know Barbara Holland was Nancy’s best friend, missing since last year. But why would she bring that up now? And why with such urgency?
You find Steve out back, leaning against the porch railing, eyes glazed with frustration and a hint of sadness.
“Steve…why would Nancy want to see Barb’s parents tonight?”
He shakes his head slowly, the alcohol clearly loosening his grip on restraint. “God, I wish I could tell you everything right now. It would make things so much easier. You’re my best friend. I tell you everything. But for the past year, I’ve been keeping so many secrets from you.”
A pit forms in your stomach. “What do you mean, Steve?”
He looks at you, eyes haunted, and whispers, “If I told you, you’d die.”
You laugh nervously, trying to shake the unease settling over you. “C’mon, it can’t be that serious.”
“There’s stuff going on around here that you have no clue about.” He reaches up, gently brushing a stray hair from your face, his fingers lingering a second longer than they should. Your heart skips, half hoping this is just the alcohol, half hoping it’s not. He always does this, walks that fine line.
His voice cracks slightly as he murmurs, “I just want to keep you safe.”
In that moment, you realize it’s not just words—it’s a plea, and you can feel the weight of something dark lurking just beyond his gaze, something he desperately wants to shield you from. 
You give Steve a gentle pinch, trying to ground him. “I’m safe, Steve. I’m right here, see?”
But he only shakes his head, eyes dark with something close to dread. “Here is where it’s least safe. Those things… they’re out there.”
A chill runs down your spine. “What things, Steve?” You search his face, recognizing the unmistakable truth behind his words.
He just looks away, jaw clenched. Instinctively, your mind flashes back to last year, the disappearances of Will Byers and Barb. Then Nancy and Jonathan, vanishing for days without a word. Everyone assumed Jonathan had to hold things together while Joyce spiraled, refusing to believe her son was dead. There was even a funeral, and she still wouldn’t admit it. Then, against all logic, Will came back with no real explanation.
You remember Steve acting strangely after everything went down. He kept trying to make peace with Jonathan over the fight they got into outside the movie theater, but he dodged every question you asked about the night he went to Jonathan’s house, laughing nervously or changing the subject so fast it left you spinning. Then there was the night you found a bat in the trunk of his car—nails hammered into it like some kind of makeshift weapon. When you questioned him, he just shrugged it off, calling it a “guy thing,” and you let it go, though every instinct told you there was more to the story.
Whenever you pushed for answers, Steve would wave it off, teasing you about reading too many mysteries and spending too much time theorizing. But seeing the fear in his eyes now, the weight he’s carrying, it hits you like a punch: you were right to question everything. And he knows it, too.
⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆
You drive Steve’s car back to his house, figuring you’ll pick up your mom’s in the morning. One night won’t matter.
Helping him up to his room, you can’t shake the strange coincidences piling up around Hawkins.
“I missed this,” he mumbles, settling onto his bed.
“What?”
“You… in my room,” he says softly, grabbing your hand. “Stay tonight. Don’t leave.”
“You have a girlfriend, Steve. I don’t stay over when you have a girlfriend.”
He sighs, eyes full of something almost desperate. “What kind of girlfriend says she isn’t really in love with you?”
You freeze. “I’m sorry—what?”
“She said we’re just… acting like we’re in love,” he says, voice rough with frustration and something else.
You can see it—the hurt he’s tried to bury, the way he’s tried so hard to be enough for someone. To finally feel wanted.
His arms slip around your waist, his head resting against your stomach, and you feel his shoulders shake. Silent tears he doesn’t want you to see.
“Hey, hey… She was drunk, okay? Everyone says stupid things when they’re drunk. Talk to her tomorrow. It’ll be fine.”
“She meant it,” he whispers, his voice breaking.
You gently push him back onto the bed, pulling the covers over him. “You’ve got a long day tomorrow, Steve. Get some rest, and we’ll figure out the Nancy thing together.”
You hate to leave him like this, but you know it’s the right thing to do. So, once again, you walk away, leaving your best friend alone with his heartbreak and the last traces of alcohol on his breath. Another turn in the endless cycle that is your friendship—always there for him, even as it pulls you back into the same, unbroken loop.
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The next day, Billy and Steve square off on the basketball court, the air thick with tension. Billy’s been taunting him non-stop, poking at Steve’s so-called “King Steve” reputation like it’s a worn-out joke. But Steve keeps his cool, mostly.
Until Billy casually drops your name.
“So tell me, Harrington,” Billy sneers with a smirk, “what made you go for the Wheeler girl over Y/N?”
Steve feels the muscles in his jaw clench, but he doesn’t take the bait. He knows better than to react. But Billy’s not done. He moves closer, a low chuckle escaping as he continues, “I mean, the King and the Princess of Hawkins High—cute match and all. But damn, man, have you seen the hips on her? Perfect for holding onto. Word is you already took her for a test drive, too. So I gotta wonder… why didn’t you ever claim her? Or maybe you just weren’t man enough?”
Steve’s control snaps. He shoves Billy hard, fire in his eyes as he stands inches from him, fists clenched. “Say one more thing about her. I dare you.”
Billy laughs, clearly enjoying himself, but there’s an edge to Steve’s stance, a fierce protectiveness that makes even Billy pause. Steve glares, his voice low and dangerous. “Y/N’s worth more than someone like you will ever know. So keep her name out of your mouth, or you’ll regret it.”
Right on cue, Nancy’s soft voice cuts through the tension. “Steve?” She stands just a few feet away, looking pale and uneasy, clearly having seen the entire thing unfold.
Billy smirks, throwing a last taunt over his shoulder. “Good luck, Harrington.” He saunters off, leaving Steve standing there, fists still clenched, his heart pounding.
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“Y/N!” your mom calls from downstairs. “Steve is here!”
Steve coming through the front door? That’s unusual—he’s always climbed the vines up to your window. You quickly spray a bit of perfume, fix your hair, then catch yourself in the mirror. Why are you even putting in effort for him?
When you come down, your mom throws you an excited smile, her back to Steve so he can’t see. She’s still holding onto that hope she’s had since first grade that you and Steve would end up together.
And then there he is, standing in the entryway with a bouquet of sunflowers—your favorite. Your heart stumbles as you take in every inch of him. For a brief second, you let yourself imagine you’re the only girl he brings flowers to. But realistically, he’s probably just coming from Nancy’s or on his way there next.
He hands you the flowers, his gaze lingering. “Thank you for everything.”
“It’s no big deal,” you say, trying to steady your voice.
“Well, I should get going,” he says, and your heart sinks. That’s it? 
“But, uh, make sure to open your window. There’s a nice breeze out tonight,” he adds with a wink. You bite back a smile, catching on.
You say your goodbyes and dash up the stairs, ignoring your mom’s questions as Steve leaves. You open your window, sitting on your bed, waiting for him like you have a hundred times before. Somehow, after all these years, the excitement still feels brand new.
“Miss me?” He slips through the window, quietly so your mom doesn’t hear, and makes himself at home. He turns on your record player, the soft hum of music filling the room, then joins you on the bed.
He stares down at his hands. “I’m sorry for the position I put you in last night. It wasn’t fair, and you deserve better.”
You try to catch his gaze, but he’s clearly embarrassed. “That’s what best friends are for,” you say, hoping to ease his guilt.
You bite your tongue, unsure whether to bring up what he shared last night—but you’ve never hidden things from each other, and you don’t want to start now. “You told me about Nancy… how she said it felt like you were just acting in love.”
He sighs, defeated. “Yeah. I confronted her about it today. Asked if she could say she loved me, and she couldn’t.”
Your heart aches for him. “I’m sorry, Steve. Maybe she’s just… having a moment. A lot’s happened this year.”
The silence hangs between you for a moment, heavy with unsaid words.
“I’m gonna bring her flowers after this. I don’t think it’ll change anything, but she deserves an apology for everything I put her through,” he finally says, breaking the quiet. You smile, resting your hand on his knee. “I think that’s a good idea.”
He looks down at your hand on his knee, his fingers hovering for a moment before he covers it with his own. His expression softens, a hint of something he quickly tries to hide, but you can see it—a sadness mixed with a reluctant acceptance, like he knows exactly what all of this means.
He lets out a quiet sigh, staring at your intertwined hands. There’s a heaviness in his eyes. Like even if things with Nancy are ending, there’s something between you and him that’s never quite let go.
His fingers tighten around yours, just for a second, before he releases your hand and gives you a small, bittersweet smile.
“You should go,” you whisper. You don’t want him to. But he needs to. 
He reluctantly resigns himself.
“Can I come pick you up in an hour? Maybe we can go to the movies or something?”
You know you should say no, but you can’t. “If you and Nancy aren’t making out and making up within the next hour then yes, we can go to a movie.” 
He stares at you, and you can’t quite read him. You avert your gaze. 
“It’s so funny,” he speaks almost as if he can’t believe himself, “No matter what…or who…I always need you.” 
And with that he’s out the window and on his way to try and win back another woman.
⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆
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deanvhs · 2 days ago
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cruising — dean winchester
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content / you and dean get in a fight when she starts getting angry for no reason.
warnings / transfem!dean winchester, internalised homophobia, John hates his kids, angst, implied smut.
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“C’mon, De.” You frown, moving closer on the bed. Sam was out getting dinner so you and Dean had the motel room all to yourselves. You even kissed Sam’s cheek goodbye to ask him if he can take Baby out for a few spins. Thankfully he agreed, but now Dean’s rejecting your advances. Since when?
“No! I already told you, the walls are too damn thin in here.” Your patience is running thin. Seriously since when does the infamous Dean Winchester care about the staff knocking your door? Or some angry neighbors? Dean once fucked you in the Imapala on a highway, you’re not sure that’s the real reason.
“You’re lying to me, honey.” Her face visibly softens at your words but she stands up anyways, taking off her jacket. You’d all got back from the successful hunt hours ago and showered but somehow Dean had wrapped herself in Sam’s jacket the second she came out of the shower. It was confusing now that she’s taking it off. This whole thing was confusing. 
“Dean, look, I’m not pressuring you or anything, but you’re lying to me. You love post-hunt sex. You’re the one who always initiates it too so I thought I’d give you a surprise, you know? But if it isn’t what you want, I understand—”
“It’s not like that!” You’re waiting for her to elaborate and when she doesn’t, you sigh. Great, you’re both getting nowhere in this conversation. “I’m going out.” She mumbles before walking out of the motel room and slamming the door behind her. 
Another very stable, very productive conversation in the Winchester household. You tie your hair back and put a coat on before running out after her. Baby isn’t anywhere near here so the only other place she’d be is the vending machine. It’s kind of like trying to find a twelve year old in an arcade. 
There she is, in all her glory, frowning at the vending machine like it’s personally offended her (you’re sure all it did was its job, but oh well). “Hey, Dee.” You sigh into the space between you when you’re close enough to touch her biceps, interlocking your arm in hers. ”you okay?”
“‘M fuckin’ peachy.”
“What you are is mean.” You scoff, but it’s only half hearted. You want to help her, not blame her. “And you’re also a big liar who won’t tell me what’s wrong so I can make it better.”
“You’re not my damn guardian, you don’t need to know—”
“Please, Dean.” You exhale, tired. “Just humor me.”
She seems to have finally given up on her quest to be unbearing. “Whatever. You just— I don’t want to have sex, okay?”
“Totally understandable, can I know why? I won’t try to change your mind, I would just like to know the reason.”
She rolls her eyes, hits the vending machine one more time so a chocolate bar drops down along with your favorite juice box. When you’re twenty something, you learn to enjoy the finer things in life like juice boxes and chocolates rather than beer and whatever the hell else.
She leans down to grab them, hands you yours. You thank her with a kiss on her arm. “Baby.” It comes out like a plea more than a warning. 
“You do this thing.” She mumbles, looking down at her chocolate bar to open it. Your heart clenched before she could even keep going, an ugly emotion tugging on your chest. You do this thing? 
Sure, you’re new to the whole relationship thing as a hunter and especially with Dean. Dean’s… not what you expected at all when you first saw her. You didn’t even know she was a her until very very later on. Even Sam found out later than you. She somehow feels like she doesn’t deserve to be called that, like her dad would kill her and if he wouldn’t approve she can’t possibly do it behind his back. 
But John can go fuck himself for all you care (he’s dead anyways so it isn’t like he can object), you love Dean. She deserves everything in this world and the next— she fucking died for her brother, it’s unreal that she would think she doesn’t deserve the simple act of being who she truly is.
“Hey? Hey, you with me? Sweetheart?” You focus back on Dean with a small pout you didn’t notice was on your face till now. “Where’d you go?”
“Sorry. What were you saying?”
“Oh, uh, you just say this thing— you call me something and I don’t know, just don’t think—”
“Dean, if I have ever made you uncomfortable during sex you have to tell me. I can’t believe you’d ever keep that from me.” Dean’s a pretty soft lover, you’d learned quickly, while she does enjoy to get with every woman she laid eyes on before she had you, she isn’t rough with them, she’ll make sure they’re ready first, very giving, and take her time. 
You can’t possibly think of anything you’d do to make her not want to sleep with you… you’re pretty sure you’re the first person in her life she’s ever been fully transparent with and you thought that’s a good thing, you thought you handled it pretty well, but maybe you were wrong.
She clears her throat, still not looking you in the eye, the wrappers off the chocolate but it’s clear she’s using it as a distraction, “you, uh, call me stuff. Stuff like, i don't know, pretty girl or whatever.”
Oh.
“Oh. I’m—” God, you feel like an idiot. A stupid fucking idiot for ever assuming she’d be okay with pet names. She’s just as new to this as you are, you’re the first person she’s ever expressed herself with and you’re ruining it for her. You need air. Even if you’re outside— fuck. “Dean, I’m sorry, I had no idea you didn’t like it and you should’ve told me the first time!” Though, you’d only slept together a handful of times since she’s come out to you, “I don’t ever want to make you uncomfortable and I’m so sorry I did—”
Her face contorts as she shakes her head, waving her hand around, “‘s fine.” She dismisses and you can practically feel how red your cheeks are with shame. So fucking stupid. For embarrassing her. For making the one thing she always made sure was comfortable for you, unenjoyable for her. Dean won’t die without sex but she fucking loves it and, you ruined it for her. 
“Sorry, Dean.” You mutter again before turning around and running back to your room. This is all— way too much, is what is it. You can’t think properly with her standing right in front of you not looking you in the fucking eyes. She’s the Dean Winchester. Forget the sexy reputation, what about the hunter one?  She’s never acted like this before and now it’s because of you. 
She trusted you with the most important thing in her life, her identity, and you—
A loud, aggressive knock sounds on the door and your hand instantly hovers over your gun. It happens one more time before you have it aimed at the door, waiting for the intruder to come in, drying the tears that were welling up in your eyes. “Come in!”
“I would, don’t have the key though.” 
Oh, it’s Dean. You put the weapon back where it belongs (though you keep a hand on it in case you need it) before opening the door. “Hey, sweetheart.” She says sweetly, her smile kind of watery. Is that because of you too? Great. You’re doing real well in the girlfriend department.
“Hi, sorry, I totally forgot I had it.” 
“‘S fine, don’t worry about it.” She shuts the door behind her, her back against the wood as she looks down on you. You’re about to pull away from the whole interaction, say you’re tired or something, before she pulls you back in, both hands on your waist. “Hey, c’mon, it’s okay, we’re okay, right?”
“Yeah, I didn’t, didn’t mean to make you think we weren’t. I’m just— disappointed in myself, I guess. And sad. You should’ve told me, I’ve said it a hundred time since you first came out and I didn’t even think of how it would affect you. You know how much I love calling you different things and I don’t know, I guess it slipped out and it was so selfish—”
“I love it.”
“What?”
“The names? Love them. All of them. Every single thing you call me makes me stop breathin’ for a second ‘cause I can’t believe how goddamn lucky I am to have you.” You're breathing’s not supposed to be this fast, right? “It makes me… God, makes me crazy thinkin’ of you saying those words but I can’t, sweetheart, okay? As much as I love ‘em, they’re not— me. They’re not who I am.”
“Because you don’t feel like that’s who you are or because of the whole ‘you don’t deserve’ them thing because I’m telling you now, if it’s the second one, I’m going to be really mad at you.” When she doesn’t respond, tightens her lips, you frown. “Dean, seriously?”
“Look—”
You don’t let her get the words in before you’re crashing your lips onto hers, your hands running through her hair while she kisses you back just as passionately, just as hard and wanting. She pushes off the door to slam you into it so she’s more in control, like she always is. “Dee,” you whisper into her lips and she pulls back with an urgent nod, all signs of hesitation erased from her eyes. “I love you.”
And maybe it’s the wrong thing to say, she’s not usually the type of girl and you know that, but she has to hear it. Has to hear it from you. “Love you so so much, dee. You know that, right?” She nods quickly like she wants the conversation to be over so she attaches her lips back onto yours before you pull away again.
“So tonight’s ‘bout you, pretty girl.” Her breath hitches and you see her eyebrows furrow ever so slightly as you stand on your toes to kiss between them. “Baby, I’m not gonna let you keep thinking that crap. No one on earth deserves this more than you, okay? And if you feel uncomfortable, or you change your mind, sure, we’ll stop, but it sure as hell won’t be because of your screwed up perception of yourself.”
She nods, almost mezmorized and leans back in. Her soft lips against yours, so fucking beautiful and the way her fingers work delicately to remove your shirt, succeeding as she moves on to the bra straps. Despite the same hands hunting monsters and sometimes the devil himself, she’s so patient and soft with you, her little moans as your hand moves down to graze her clothes cock, her green orbs flashing you when she opens her eyes to tell you ‘bed’ as if you didn’t just say that you’re in change tonight.
Technically, you did say it’s about her, and if the way she likes it is by being in control, you don’t mind givin’ it to her one bit. As long as you get to praise her all the way through it. 
She kisses down your neck, biting down a little on your sensitive areas, earning moans that make you arch your back, mostly try for some friction. She smiles against your skin, moving further down till she gets to your bra, removes it completely and latches onto your nipple, “fuck, dee, yes. so pretty, so gorgeous for me, makin’ me feel good, ah!” She takes your other one between her fingers and you can’t help the sounds escaping you. She pulls away to tsk. 
“Keep quiet, sweetheart. Wasn’t jokin’ about those thin walls.” Unfortunately for you, by thin she means you can hear the teenage boy and his parents talking through the wall right behind you. So, it’s practically a closet door between the two rooms but you couldn’t care less. And she seems to only care to shut you up with her mouth.
Except she doesn’t. She comes back up, your skin itching with her sudden withdrawal. Before you can protest she has her thumb sit king your lips, “now, sweetheart, what’d I say?” 
“I need to be quiet.” She smirks down at you, nodding, waiting for you to continue, “‘nd I wasn’t quiet.”
“Mm,” she brushes her thumb against your lips one more time before she slips it past them, your teeth grazing it before she lays it flat on your tongue and your first instinct is to bring your hands up to her wrist, wrapping around it to keep her in place, and sucking. “Fuck, baby.”
She groans, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your forehead then going back to your neck, pulling all kinds of pretty moans. 
+
Needless to say, the night turns out great, no thanks to her communication skills. And you tell her as much when you’re both relaxing on the bed after, you’re still catching your breath in her arms and she’s smiling down at you, plants one last kiss to your hair.
“You know this could’ve all been easily avoided if we’d just talked, right?” She huffs from above you and it’s quite painfully the most obvious reaction she’s ever had. Dean’s angry. Maybe not at this exact moment, and not burning red, but she is. She’s not comfortable in her own skin most of the time and it’s no longer because she hasn’t come out, it’s because she did. 
She did, she has people who love and support her and she can’t stand that. She thought the second she came out with you and her brother would flee the country and maybe boo at her, but the fact that you both stayed eats at her more than she’d ever admit— she feels like a fraud. A failure as an older sister— older brother. 
And what’s worse is that she knows she’s as transparent as glass with you, that you’re reading her every thought right now without even looking her in the face. “Dean, c’mon, honey, you can’t keep thinkin’ like this— or I mean, technically you can, free will and all, but I’d rather you not.” You don’t repeat the three words you want to so desperately say, you know she’s reached her quota on chick-flicks. “I’m gonna keep calling you these names because you like them. And because they make you feel like yourself and I simply do not care what you say after that.”
She has nothing to say anyways, just closes her eyes and rests her head on yours, hoping you’ll still be there in the morning.
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difference for me between calling transfem Sam and Dean pretty girl and them freaking out is that Sam (as always) is self deprecating and doesn’t feel like she deserves that. She doesn’t feel pretty and she doesn’t feel like she deserves having someone she loves lying to her. For dean, although she’s pretty self deprecating herself, it’s mostly about John. Like most of where her trauma stems from, she can’t understand why the person she loves would ever say that to her knowing it’s not right and it’s unclean to be anything other than the biggest guy in the room. And sure she came out, and shes comfortable with you and Sam and maybe she’ll even tell cas one day, but she values her reputation above all because that’s what John taught her. Thanks for listening  to my Ted talk, please buy a cookie on your way out!!!
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yuwuta · 1 month ago
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yuuta from his position at the foot of the bed (bc you’re totally mad at him and definitely not fighting off the urge to cuddle despite your anger bc of his big wet eyes that shimmer with how much he loves you) telling u goodnight and if he can give u a goodnight kiss and you’re like sigh fine but yuuta doesn’t reach up to all the way where u are with ur head on his favorite pillow. instead he shifts the covers so your knee is exposed to the cool air from the ac and he gives your knee a little kiss and pets the back of your thigh. he really just wants to feel your warmth in any way he cans and you’re happy to indulge him in this way if it means u can still keep up the angry front. anyways he hums goodnight to you as he curls up on his end of the bed, respecting your space even as u want to reach out to him. by morning you’ve found your way into his arms anyways
He’s actually so sick……… kissing your knee what the fuck!! The image of him just kneeling at the side of the bed and looking up at you and begging to kiss you goodnight even tho you’re mad at him….. he is a sick sick individual and the worst part is that he’s such a dizzying mix of completely genuine and completely calculated. He doesn’t want to fight anymore, he really is sorry, he really doesn’t want you to be angry; but at the same time he knows how much you love it when he touches you so gently, he knows you’ve both grown accustomed to falling asleep in each others arms, he’s hoping to give you just enough to make you come back for more…
Honestly, I doubt he falls asleep. He’s hoping you’ll forgive him, he’s hoping you accept his apology, but he can’t be certain. So he curls up on his side of the bed and tries to steady his breathing as much as possible, but it’s hard. He misses you; you’re right there and he misses you. Thirty minutes pass by and he turns around to face your body; your back is still to him but at least he can see you. He wants to touch you, he wants to hold you…. he wonders if it’ll make you mad if he does, but by an hour of wondering he decides if it’s worth the risk. You’re probably asleep anyway… he starts small, just a finger caressing your arm, then his palm, then he scoots closer until the tip of his nose is against the back of your neck and he sighs and you shudder and he realizes you’re awake. He takes it as a good sign, that you couldn’t sleep without him either and that you let him touch you, so he becomes bold, smiles against your skin and finally, finally wraps his arms around you so both can rest :((
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princessbellecerise · 6 months ago
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Happily Ever After
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──── ✧*・゚*✭˚・゚✧ ────
summary | How the Yandere!HOTD characters would react after being told by your father that they cannot marry you
warnings | Smut, mentions of pregnancy, yandere behavior, public sex, violence, mentions of death and sword fights
this fic is eighteen plus. minors please do not enter
divider by @princessbellecerise
Jacaerys Velaryon
Prince Jacaerys grows desperate upon being told he cannot marry you
The usual level-headed and reasonable Prince that people are used to seeing quickly goes out of the window and is replaced by a man desperate to do anything to have you
Not having you by his side was not part of his plan, and it’s simply not an option
Jace absolutely refuses to have anyone else as his partner, and he’ll be damned if you marry anyone but him
After being told no by your father, Jace begins to spiral
Anyone can see that the Prince is clearly not happy, and his behavior starts to become panicked and irrational
Rhaenyra tells him to let it go; to let you go but she doesn’t understand. How can Jace let you go when you’re everything he’s ever wanted?
He tells, no begs your father to reconsider, tells him that he can’t imagine spending his life with anyone else but you
Jace tries to get him to see just how in love the two of are, but unfortunately your father still tells him no. And it’s nothing against Jace, he reassures the prince, but it’s just that—much to everyone’s surprise—your father has already made arrangements to betroth you to someone else
You of course have absolutely no knowledge of this, and you’re stunned when your father apologizes to Jace but it’s still a big, fat no
He sends you both away and tells you not to ask again because everything is final. And even when you burst into tears, begging your mother to not let him do this, your father doesn’t budge
“This alliance is vital for our House, Y/N. I’m sorry, but you will not be marrying the Prince.”
That night, you go to bed absolutely devastated and of course, you want nothing more than for Jace to comfort you. You wish to sneak out and go to his chambers like you normally do, but your father is smarter than you anticipated
As if he knew exactly what you intended to do, he asks Rhaenyra to place a royal guard at your door
No one is allowed in and no one is allowed out, which makes your plan of seeing Jace impossible
You beg and you plead, but the guard does not budge. He simply tells you go back to bed and alas, you do not see Jacaerys that night. Or any night after that
It seems that your father is intentionally keeping you away from the prince, whisking you away every time he tries to approach or arranging your schedule so that you do not run into him
Additionally, there seems to be a guard present for every little thing you do, so sneaking away isn’t an option
If you do so happen to even see Jace, it’s only through fleeting glances and the lack of contact begins to drive you both insane
You can’t stand being away from one another and time is running out. The only reason your family is in King’s Landing is because your father was there for business, but soon he will be finished and you’ll have to go back to your homeland. Without Jace, to marry someone else
The sheer thought of it gives you anxiety, but you’ve exhausted your pleas and by now you know that your father won’t listen
There’s nothing you or Jace can do to change his mind—or at least, that’s what you think
Two days before you’re supposed to leave though, a sudden knock on the door shocks you. When you open it, you’re expecting it to be one of your family members, but nothing—absolutely nothing—prepares you to see Jace standing on the other side; the guard knocked out, Jace’s fist bloody, and a wild look in his brown eyes
When you ask him what the hell happened, Jace responds by telling you that he can’t live without you, and that he was willing to do whatever it took to make you his
He couldn’t let you leave without doing something, and so that night, the prince takes you in every position that he can think of. Missionary, doggy style, against the wall, on the balcony
Anything to breed your pretty little cunt, anything to make sure that his seed takes
Jace hates it, he hates breaking the rules and as heir he knows what he’s doing is wrong
He knows that impregnating you while not being married could potential ruin him, you, and his mother. He knows how the greens would react to a bastard having a bastard, but he’s so afraid of losing you that he doesn’t care
Jace risks everything that night just to make sure that you stay by his side; and it works
A few days later, you still end up leaving with your family but on the journey back home you pray to the Gods that your plan works
You pray that Jacaerys’ seed takes root in your womb and to your utter excitement, you prayers come true
A few short weeks after returning home, you notice that your moon blood hasn’t come and you start to get sick nearly every morning
You’re barely well enough to attend any meetings with your so-called ‘betrothed,’ and it doesn’t take long for someone to catch onto your symptoms
When your maids discover what’s going on, they immediately tell your mother, who in turn tells your furious father
When you finally break the news, you swear that you had never seen him get so angry before. Had your mother not been holding him back, you were sure that he would’ve strangled you where you stood
Alas though, as much as he wanted to wring your neck he knew that harming the future Queen of Westeros would not be a wise decision
After all, there were no doubts about who the father of your unborn child was, and as soon as the news broke your father had furiously written to Rhaenyra and informed her of the situation
As soon you arrived in King’s Landing, you were all but thrown into a wedding gown, modified to fit over your stomach of course
But either way, you and Jace get exactly what you want—the opportunity to spend forever together, and six moons later, a healthy, chunky baby that just so happens to be born three moons sooner than anyone expected
Aegon Targaryen
Aegon is angry when your father tells him no
And it’s not just because of the rejection, it’s also because he knows—Aegon knows that the only reason he says no is because your father doesn’t think he’s good enough for you
In fact, your father flat-out tells him this, and to make things even worse, your father declares that you’ll marry his brother instead—the responsible, honorable Aemond
Like hell Aegon would ever let that happen
You are the one thing Aegon has that Aemond doesn’t. Someone to love and genuinely care for him, and Aegon isn’t going to let that go so easily
He has half a mind to draw his sword and kill your father on the spot for even suggesting such a vile idea, but you beg him not to. Despite heavily disagreeing with your father’s decision, you tell Aegon that there’s other ways to get him to change his mind that doesn’t involve bloodshed
Surprisingly, Aegon listens to you but you should’ve known it was only because he had already thought of something worse
You didn’t know it, but when Aegon lures you into his chambers the next day, he’s come up with a plan
He knows exactly how to get your father to change his mind, and his plan starts the moment he has you naked
Unfortunately, it’s not the first time you and Aegon have fucked so bedsheets are no use to him. No, your lover has to get a bit more creative than that
Somehow, Aegon convinces you to try something new and you end up bent over the Prince’s balcony as he fucks you from behind, his cock driving in and out of your slick cunt
It’s the middle of the day and what you’re doing is beyond risky, not only because you’re not married, but also because literally anyone could look up and see the two of you
You see, the Prince’s balcony just so happened to overlook the training yard, and though it was empty at the moment, Aegon knew exactly when it got crowded
All he had to do was wait for his chance, fucking you so good that you didn’t even grasp the situation
You were none the wiser as to what was happening, eyes closed as you basked in the pleasure. You moaned his name and clenched around his cock, feeling a familiar pinch in your stomach
Just as you reached your peak, you began to hear shouting from below
Startled gasps and a few screams had your eyes flying open, Aegon smirking as you caught the attention of at least twenty people—one of whom was your father
He stood, horrified as the prince locked eyes with him. Seemingly taunting him as he rutted into you, moaning and still fucking you against the railing
Aegon swore that he had never came so hard in his life—expect maybe on your wedding night less two days later, the memory of your father’s face and the satisfaction of getting what he wanted fueling what he calls, “The best fuck of his goddamn life.”
Daemon Targaryen
Daemon is amused upon being told no
He’s amused and it’s because he never really asked for permission in the first place. It was more like…a courtesy warning, and he only did it because he knew you were too scared to tell your father yourself
After all, the Rouge Prince has a reputation and it’s not exactly squeaky clean. Daemon’s track record with his wives is why your father said no, but he should’ve known that no isn’t in Daemon Targaryen’s vocabulary
In fact, Daemon merely laughs in your father’s face, declaring that the two of you will be married in a fortnight, regardless of what your father says
Show up or don’t, Daemon doesn’t care—but you will be his wife
And of course, your father protests, appalled that the prince is so bold
He even goes as far as to complain to the King, but Viserys is old and weak. There’s seldom that he can do to fight Daemon anymore except threaten to exile him again, but Daemon isn’t afraid of punishment
He’ll gladly leave the hell hole that’s King’s Landing, but he makes it clear that if he does, Westeros will never see him or you again
He relays this threat to your father, and in his desperation to keep you away from the Prince, your father all but flees in the middle of the night. Making sure that no one except those loyal to your House know where he’s taking you
Despite your protests and your attempts to alert Daemon, you’re dragged on a boat and shipped off to a far away land, one where your father hopes the Prince will never find you
He even goes so far as to change your hair and make up a fake identity for you, but he was a fool to think that he could ever cross Daemon Targaryen
If the Prince wasn’t annoyed with your father before, then Daemon is most certainly furious when he learns that he’s all but kidnapped you
He sets to work on finding you almost immediately, and he swears once he does he’ll kill anyone that helped with this ridiculous scheme
He starts his search by fiercely questioning all of the guards and servants that were tending to you. And because he’s Daemon Targaryen, it doesn’t take long to get the answers he’s looking for
With one look at Caraxes, the so-called men that were loyal to your house end up folding pretty quickly. Daemon has them all but fighting each other to give up your location, though unfortunately their honesty isn’t enough to spare their lives
In his pursuit to get where you are, Daemon leaves a trail of bodies
He kills anyone that he suspects of helping your father, though his rage won’t be satisfied until he confronts the man himself
And what do you know—your father truly is a fool of a man because it turns out that he took you to Pentos. Pentos, the land where Daemon Targaryen lived for years
Why he thought that was a good idea, no one knows. Perhaps he thought that hiding you in plain sight would be enough to fool Daemon, but unfortunately the rouge Prince is much too smart for that
And due to all of the connections Daemon has in the city (and his dragon) it takes him less than a week to locate you
He finds you hiding just on the outskirts of the city, in some rundown village. You look miserable as you chat with some of the locals, hatching your own plans to escape and somehow get back to Daemon
Your father was asleep in the house that you shared, though the beat of Caraxes’ wings are enough to alert you both, your father waking up and running outside just as Daemon lands in front of you
The Prince wears a smirk of triumph as he dismounts his dragon, taking in your father’s horrified face and laughing
He enjoys the moment almost as much as he enjoys the way you immediately run to you, ignoring your father’s protests and shouts to come back
It’s obvious who you choose by the way you hang onto Daemon, hiding behind him while Caraxes roars
There’s a moment where everything seems to stand still, and Daemon drinks in his moment of victory before slowly gesturing you towards his dragon, helping you mount
As you climb onto the red beast, Daemon slipping in the saddle behind you, the last thing your father sees is the smirk that adorns Daemon’s face
Lilac eyes with with his own, and then, Prince’s lips utter a single word
“Dracarys.”
Lucerys Velaryon
Poor Luke is devastated when your father rejects his proposal
It took all he had to muster up the courage to even ask, and now he’s crushed that he won’t be able to marry the love his life
Not only that, Luke genuinely cannot see himself with anyone else. You’re it for him, and he’s determined to be with you no matter what
Call it young love or maybe just sheer stupidity, but one night Luke sneaks into your chambers and hatches a plan
He tells you that there’s a way for you to be together, a way for you to have your happy ending after all. All you have to do is come with him, and he’ll take you to a place where no one, including your father, can come between you two ever again
And that night, when you flee with the Prince on the back of Arrax, it almost feels like a fairytale. You’ve never felt more alive than you did as you watched the Red Keep disappear into the night
With your heart beating as fast as Arrax’s wings, you and Luke run away, neither of you thinking of the consequences, or caring
You’re just so happy to be together that everything else falls into the background. Caught up in your own bliss, you and Luke flee to Essos where the Prince has arranged for you to be married
Like he promised, no one is there to object or to stop you from becoming one. They’re all too busy in King’s Landing looking for you both, your mother distraught and your father wondering what happened to his youngest child
Likewise, Rhaneyra nearly collapses when she finds out that Luke is missing, but Daemon reassures her he’ll be back. He doesn’t know when, he tells her, but he has a sneaking suspicion that when he does you’ll be in tow
And what do you know—four moons go by and it turns out that Daemon was right. You and Luke return to King’s Landing after all, and upon arrival you’re greeted by your weeping mother and your
concerned father
They both have so many questions—where have you been, what happened, why did you run away?
And everyone is so focused on questioning you, so relieved that the Prince isn’t dead after all, that they almost miss the glaringly obvious bump that’s concealed behind your blue dress
Almost
You try to hide it as best as you can, but when your father pulls you in for a hug you know that he can feel it. The horrified expression he wears when he pulls away confirms this. And when you back away, placing a loving hand over your stomach and settling into Luke’s arms, that is when he also takes note of the matching Velaryon pins on your clothes
“We have something to announce,” Luke tells his mother excitedly
You both share a loving look, and Rhaneyra’s eyes are ready to pop out of her skull when Luke places a hand over your stomach and grins
“Y/N is with child.”
Aemond Targaryen
Aemond takes your father’s words as a challenge
Despite how irritated he is at being flat-out rejected, he decides not to lash out or show any emotion really
For Aemond, keeping a level head is important. It allows him to plan, to strategize like he’s always been taught and to be able to stay one step ahead
He supposes he’s just like his grandfather in a way, and it’s obvious that your father underestimates just how far Aemond is willing to go for you
The first man that your father agrees to betroth you to only lasts about five minutes in the duel Aemond challenges him to
The second fairs a little better, though not by much. By the third, your father is furious and it’s become a game for Aemond to see how fast his opponent can last before they ultimately meet their maker
He wears a smirk the entire time he’s fighting, easily ducking and dodging and occasionally striking which wounds the man heavily. It’s obvious that he’s going to win, again, and the sobs and screams from the Lord’s family are hard to miss
They sit next to you in the crowd that surrounds him and Aemond, and every time Aemond lands a blow your father flinches, muttering under his breath how it was a mistake to ever let you meet that man
You on the other are ecstatic, occasionally locking eyes with Aemond and sending him encouraging smiles
You pray after each duel that your father will finally change his mind and allow you to marry Aemond, but it’s not until after the fourth duel does he agree
After a particularly bloody and grueling fight, there are no more proposals. Every Lord that had ever considered asking for your hand is now too terrified to even speak to you, and with the lack of marriage offers your father has no choice but to admit defeat
He agrees to marry you to Aemond, and of course, Aemond feels victorious. He smugly thanks your father for his reconsideration, shaking his hand and promising that he won’t be regretting his decision
7K notes · View notes
saetoru · 1 year ago
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。yours, always yours
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synopsis. satoru has always been yours—and he needs you to know you’ll also always be his
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— word count. 2.4k (read the breakup fic first for better understanding, but can be read as a stand-alone)
— contents. fem! reader, college! au, rich boy! gojo, post-getting back together angst that gets a little heated <3, minors do not interact, fingering, unprotected sex, edging, satoru cumming too quick <3, creampie, tbh the smut is short and a lil rushed my b, it ends in fluff tho !! trust !! there is fluff !!
— notes. tbh this will probably get flagged rly fast but oh well u win some u lose some. anywayyyyy here is the make up sex bc yall nasties deserve it <3 jk love u guys
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satoru falls first. and he falls hard. everyone knows it, it’s never been a secret.
“you want me to wash your hair?” you ask gently, kissing his shoulder as the water falls over his head. he hums, nodding absentmindedly as he stares blankly at the tiles of your shower wall.
“sure,” he mumbles, “don’t tug.”
“i never tug,” you roll your eyes, snorting. he huffs a small chuckle, but it’s not the usual laugh satoru gives you. it’s mechanic, almost—just there to fill the space. “baby?” you ask softly.
“yeah?” he asks, “oh, should i bend a little? sorry, i—”
“what’re you thinking about?” your hands cup his cheeks, gentle and warm from the hot water as it soaks his skin.
he shakes his head, trying to smile as he clears throat. “just how nice it is to be pampered. maybe i’ll let you break my heart every once in a while so i get my back scrubbed and hair washed like this.”
“satoru,” you insist. you know—and he knows it too. “tell me?”
“why’d you do it?” he mumbles, “why’d you listen to him?”
“toru, you know why,” you sigh, “you know i didn’t think there were any other options.”
“you could’ve talked to me,” he furrows his brows, “just because my stupid old man threatens you with my stupid inheritance doesn’t mean we have to break up.”
“i was afraid you’d choose me.” it comes out as a whisper, like a confession you can’t bear to admit.
“i would have chosen you,” he agrees, “why’s that bad? how’s that wrong—”
“you’re not thinking about the bigger picture,” you shake your head, “that company is yours. you’ve spent your whole life—”
“so what? was i supposed to give up the rest of my life for it too?” he asks tiredly—satoru’s defeated. he’s never been defeated, it’s the most magnetizing thing about him.
even before you date him. he asks and asks and asks no matter how many times you say no. because there’s always a chance you’ll say yes, and he’ll never stop as long as there’s a chance.
“i’m sorry,” you sniffle, lips wobbling, “i could have….i should have said something. i didn’t want you to make a choice young and then….and then regret it.”
“you think i’d regret you?” he’s wounded—absolutely wounded at the words.
satoru has always been careful, diligent and so, so meticulous to love you right, to love you how you need to be loved. hadn’t that proven enough? that he was in it for the long run—for forever? he’d been so sure you’d be his future, that the break up feels like waking up from a peaceful dream to a house fire—devastating, with smoke in his nose and lungs that he can’t breathe right, and everything gone within a moment before he can even register it.
he stares at the ashes in despair. nothing prepared him for the hollowness of not being yours—because satoru has never cared to make you his. all he’s ever wanted was to be yours.
you’re quick to remove him from everything, deleting pictures from your socials, untagging him from posts, removing him from your private stories and close friends list. he doesn’t understand how you could change your mind so quickly—and then he realizes you probably don’t. because he knows you—better than anyone ever has, satoru knows you.
so he’s comes to you, drenched from the rain, from standing outside your door even as the water pelts against his skin because he’s determined. he’s going to get an answer out of you, going to make you explain why you pulled him in so close, let him reside in your heart and fall asleep to the comforting rhythm of its beating—and then push him out like he’s nothing. what made you push him out?
and finally, when he does, when you let him be yours again and admit it’s never what you wanted, that it’s because it’s what his father wanted—well, satoru can’t keep his composure. don’t you know? hadn’t he always told you? hadn’t he poured his heart out and let you know every moment he’s always been stuck dangling from his father’s fingers? stuck somewhere between the sky and ground, too high to feel the floor under his feet but never high enough to feel the wind in his face.
you’ve always known, always listened—and fuck, you held him some nights too, let your fingers dip into his hair and soothe his sorrows of always being stuck.
satoru’s always been stuck, always had every choice made for him and every instruction carefully laid out on the table. and then you decided to make his choice for him too, walking away and choosing his future for him like he’s never had a say.
he’s always been stuck, but never with you—but now, he wonders if that’s changed.
“no,” you squeeze his cheeks, “no i don’t think you’d regret me….but satoru losing what you have is a big thing,” you mumble, “people work their whole lives not having a fraction of what you do. that’s a lot to let you lose.”
“i’ve never seen my dad kiss my mom,” he stares at you, hard and unwavering, his eyes stare into yours, “he’s never held her hand or made her laugh. and you know what she told me? that she would sell her share of everything to have what we do. why do you always look at me for what i have first?” he asks angrily, the water pouring over his shoulders as they shake, “why can’t you just look at me first for once?”
“i do look at you,” you insist, “toru, all i ever see is you—”
“then stop caring what he says,” he says louder, his voice echoing through the small bathroom of your small apartment.
everything about your home is small—smaller than satoru’s especially. but he loves it, thinks he’d rather be here than anywhere else.
because it’s yours. and as long as you’re here, the world fits into this tiny apartment, the galaxy too.
“okay,” you say shakily. and then you nod, looking him in the eye, “you’ll handle it?”
he nods, kissing between your brows, “yeah, i’ll handle it. who else is gonna take over that company anyway?”
“but what if he finds someone else? and then he—”
“he won’t. my grandpa will shred him.”
“but he’s old, and he stepped down, so what really can he do if your dad decides—”
“god, baby,” he groans, pushing your body against the wall gently, “i love your voice, but you talk so much. i’m wanna listen to something else.”
his lips find your neck, sucking gently at the skin, hand trailing to your tits before his thumb circles your nipple. it’s slow, deliberate, teasing as it rolls over the bud.
you whimper, clutching onto him as a breathy, “t-toru,” leaves your lips.
“yeah,” he nods, “that’s what i wanna listen to instead.” his lips are in a grin against your neck, kissing and biting until he reaches your collarbone. “anyone dm you after you took me out of your socials?” he asks bitterly.
“j-just one,” you admit through a stutter, “b-but i didn’t even open it! i wasn’t really—oh, toru,” you gasp as his finger finds your clit, spreading your legs as he lets out a soft growl at your words.
“what? just cause my face isn’t on your instagram suddenly you’re not mine?” he asks, thumb rubbing harsh circles against the sensitive bundle of nerves—you close your eyes, moaning as your arms wrap tightly around his neck. “you’re always mine,” he murmurs against your ear, low and careful so you hear him well, “yeah? got that?”
“got it,” you nod furiously.
“got what?”
“‘m al-always—oh, fuck,” you mewl as one finger prods at your entrance, gathering your slick before slowly sliding through your walls.
“c’mon, sweetheart,” he says firmly, “finish your sentences.”
“always yours, toru! always yours—please, please j-just…”
“just what?” he raises a brow.
“more,” you sob—it’s a broken plea as your hips thrust against his finger.
he’s quick to slide in a second, thrusting his digits mercilessly into your soaked cunt, his palm gliding over your clit as the slick sound of his fingers fucking you is almost drowned by the water in the back.
your water bill will be high this month. you decide it’s a sacrifice satoru deserves.
“you think someone could ever learn this body better than me? make you cum like i can? you think anyone will ever love you enough to learn you like i do?”
“n-no,” you pant, his fingers hitting that spot inside of you so perfectly, you feel that dull ache build up quickly. it’s good—everything with satoru is good. his other hand finds your chest to pinch a nipple, twisting and squeezing until your nails leave indents on his shoulders as you moan loudly. “no one—no one but you.”
“exactly,” he growls, “how could you leave me? how could you leave us?”
“‘m sorry,” you sniffle, whimpering when the tips of his fingers slam against that spongey spot of your walls, fluttering around him and squeezing him in. you’re close—so close that you almost don’t know what he’s saying anymore, too focused on the way your impending orgasm is approaching. fast. “i’m sorry, i’ll never—ever leave again.”
“say you love me,” he demands.
it sounds like he’s pleading, though, if you listen closely. there’s a small crack in his voice, a slight shakiness that makes you force your eyes open and stare at him and whisper, “i love you, satoru. i love you.”
and then he rips his fingers out—right before you’re about to cum. you gasp, pleading nonsense as you cling to him and buck your hips and search for something, anything to take you over the edge.
and then you hear a sniffle. is he crying? is that wet droplet on your shoulder a tear or the water? you’re too busy calming down from your orgasm dying before it ever came to focus.
satoru’s hard against your thigh, throbbing and painful to sink into you. he strokes himself a few times, whimpers as his thumb gathers the pre cum from the sensitive tip, smearing it along his length as he shakily lets out a quiet moan.
“f-fuck, i gotta feel you. please, can i? please—”
“yes,” you pull him closer, grinding your heat over his hard-on, “yes please, toru. more, need more.”
he’s sliding along your folds, dragging the tip of his cock along your entrance and smearing a mix of your arousal with his. and then slowly, ever so gently, he’s pushing into your after that, pushing past your walls and bullying into your soaked cunt, curving into you perfectly.
it’s only been a week—you feel like you haven’t felt him in years. but it’s familiar. you remember every part of him, including every vein that drags along your walls and makes your head spin. he remembers every part of you, including where that spot is that he needs to angle his hips to find.
he slams into you, hard and rough and fast—doesn’t even let you adjust your position to hold onto him tighter before he’s thrusting his hips and fucking into you desperately. you can feel him, every inch of his skin against you, every part of him that’s touching you. and you can feel the way his cock nudges past your folds, the friction burning pleasure through ever nerve.
satoru knows how to fuck you, just like he knows how to love you, he knows your body—every dip and ever curve, every place to touch and every part that has you gushing around him. it’s just the way he is, too good at giving you what you want, what you need.
when he moans, it’s breathy and he’s panting as he lets out those soft whimpers that make your head spin. “feel that? feel me?” he asks, grunting as you squeeze around his length.
“yeah,” you breathe, “‘m so full.”
“i need you. please, please,” he murmurs, “can’t lose you, baby. never you,” he chants, the quiver in his voice tearing you apart.
“i’m right here,” you gasp, lacing your fingers with his and squeezing his hand. he squeezes back, just to let you know he’s there too, “right here, baby. you got me.”
and then he cums, just as soon as you whisper that—he spills right into you with a broken cry, his hips rolling, needy and desperate and so, so lost on the pleasure. he’s too busy working himself through his high, trembling over your body to care he’s cum too quick—and you don’t have it in you to tease him. you can feel the hot ropes of cum filling you, painting your walls white, fucking deep into you as the blunt head of his cock slams into you without a second of hesitation.
but he doesn’t stop, doesn’t falter that brutal pace as his hips slam into you, perfectly kissing your sweet spot every time. and before long, you break—your head pushes back against the wall behind you, mouth parted as you wail his name and cum—hard. you’re quivering and spasming around his swollen cock, enough that he whimpers at the way you’re so tight.
it’s good, it’s always good. satoru makes you feel good. he’s the best you’ve ever had—the best you’ll ever find.
and then you hear it again, the sniffle into your neck as he clutches you tightly. you know for sure that wet droplet is a tear this time, and your fingers tangle into his hair as you stroke the wet strands.
“i love you, toru,” you murmur, “my sweet boy. i’m sorry, okay? i’m so sorry.”
“don’t do that again,” he huffs in between tears, “that was so mean. so mean.”
“i said i won’t,” you chuckle, fighting back your own tears, “how long are you gonna hold this against me?”
“how long do you plan on being mine?”
“well,” you pull him from your neck, cupping his cheeks as you wipe away tears and peck his lips softly, “i think….forever.”
“well, get ready, then,” he glares softly, “i’m gonna hold this against you forever too.”
“okay,” you nod, “that’s fair.”
“and i love you too,” he adds, “but block whoever dm’d you. it better not be that zenin boy.”
“block those girls who’s pictures you liked,” you shoot back, glaring at him with a pout of your own.
“don’t yell at me,” he mumbles, leaning into your touch as your thumb strokes his cheek, “i’ve had a rough week. you have to be nice.”
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dabitee anon. are u seeing this. did u see the satoru who cums too fast. did u see it. report back if u saw this. i repeat, dabitee anon report back if you see this
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silkythewriter · 10 months ago
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Vox and alastor with an undeserving to be in hell reader!
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Warnings!:non!
Fandom!: Hazbin hotel!
Author note!;I THINK TUMBLER ACTUALLY HATES ME (メ﹏メ)(。•́︿•̀。)it keeps not letting me edit my drafts, it’s happened like 3 times already this week alone!,…BUT ANYWAY I LOVE THIS IDEA I REALLY HOPE YOY ENJOY!!!!♡´・ᴗ・`♡
Summary!: alastor and Vox x reader WHOs I. Hell for a minor sin/crime
❤️Written by silkythewriter do not steal or repost any other platform please! <3❤️
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“Each time I find myself
Flat on my face
I pick myself up and get back in the race!”
ఌ★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★ఌ
!📺✨Vox✨📺!
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When you first admitted what you did that counted as a “sin” he was flabbergasted! He thought they must’ve made a mistake. All be it one that was in favor since he got to be damned with you. But still!
Out of every monster known to man kind one who’ve committed acts that are despicable. You, one who can barely hurt a damn fly get sent with them?
At first he thought you were genuinely just joking. And he actually laughed! Like audible chuckled before waiting for the actual reason, which never came, and he soon realized you were being serious!
He always questioned why you use to refuse to kill, or at least scare people into respect. But then you explained how you refused to be like the rest of the sinners.
He utterly dumb founded you made it this far without spilling a bit of blood, at least for survival!
He becomes more overprotective as if he wasn’t before, good luck with that!
Cause now he knows your rules, he knows you won’t budge. Nothing would get you to change your mind. So he made sure to keep eyes on you 24/7, you may be nice, but the other sinners in this damned place definitely aren’t. And he knows that from experience
Would neither confirm or deny he put a small tracker in an item you carry every where.
This man has enemy’s as you’ve seen, demons, overlords, rival company’s, it’s a headache an a half for him. Not that he hates protecting you and your values! No never!, but the nerve of the people who think they even have a chance to lay a hand on you.
Gives you the lastest phone from his series, and yes he will text you and blow up ur phone up if he can see you through cameras around the city.
Even if you put it on silent he wouldn’t put behind himself to over load it and just show up on your phone screen.
Sometimes he’s just so confused how you can be so nice, or at worst passive to those who are poking at you. He thinks your a saint, even if you aren’t, an maybe you have a short temper still the way you hold yourself form blowing up is astonishing!
Sometimes he jokes about how if you were to go to Charlie you would be redeemed in a day. And at night sometimes he thinks about it and it scares him to know there’s a possibility for you to go where he will probably never be able to follow you too
He loves you to the depths and the crooks of hell, and he’ll be damned again if he lets anyone hurt you. He sees you as a small soft light in the red cover world, and he will do anything before anyone can put out that light.
He makes sure to keep a good distance between you and Val, a BIG distance.
He’s always on the edge about people around you, how can’t he? He can’t trust all these “disgusting and repulsive” sinners in hell around you. The thought alone cringes him out and stresses him.
He knows to some degree he isn’t exactly better then them sin wise, but he makes sure to do his best for you while infornt of you, he cares about his image, and wouldn’t be afraid to scare someone into discipline. BUT he will tone it down, just for you ♥(⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝)♥
He has you under wraps, from the public eye in this case. As much as he’s one to show off his earnings, he loves you a little to much and knows well people will use you as a advantage. He loves to show off but you something just for him behind close doors for now before he can work something out
NOW if the public were to already know, he show off by showing how untouchable you were, demons knew better to approach you seeing as how fast he is to get rid of those stupid enough to try something.
Overall he respects your morals of not wanting to stoop as low as other sinners. But it dose make him more protective of you, your like a rare gem. There’s only a handful of people like you, and even then the numbers decrees daily, so he dose his most to make sure you safe and happy <3
ఌ★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★ఌ
!🎙️✨Alastor✨🎙️!
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Like Vix he humors it at first! Playing around with it before Laughing with his usual staticky voice as he stared at you with his unnerving smile. You guys quite literally stared at each other for a hot minute waiting for the other to say something.
It took you clearing your throat for him to realize you weren’t just trying to get a chuckle outta him.
And for the first time since you met him you caught a hint of confusion, making you explain that it was genuinely what you did.
He quite literally burst out laughing, you, someone who probably did something everyone did once is in this horrid place stuck with the horrid monsters ever! Just for that single act alone.
He will admit he found it a bit amusing how you refused to kill or lay a hand on anyone. Refusing to stoop to other people’s levels. Now that for him is pure gold of entreatment! He’s seen people like you, say the same exact thing then crumble when backed I to a Corner.
But for the first time, for all the decades he’s been damned here, he’s seen you stick to what you’ve stated. You were very much quite a spectacle!
Now finding new amusement, he decided to protect you, cause someone like you were sure to be a one time experience. Aside from loving you of course
Now with your name being accosted with him alone is a shield in if its self. Barely any one approached you, aside from those playing with their afterlives of course.
If you ever feel a looming shadow or presence it’s most likely one of his shadows. Like Vox he is gonna have his eyes on you almost always
Although he loves you he will play around to get a reaction out of you. All for the fun of it!, he knows you cringe when he talks about his cannibalism tendencies he just loves seeing your cute little face scrunch up!
Even though with all of that he is a gentleman and will make sure no one is to bother you.
He’s quite impressed you made it this far without getting killed, I mean of course you have him but if you arrived to hell and didn’t met him immediately he’d be quite impressed and surprised one you both do meet
He indulges himself in the horrible aspects of hell, with no remorse or shame what so ever either. So although he dose respect your wishes he won’t stop or calm down his tendencies.. (;へ:)but on the bright side he’ll make sure your far away or he goes off to other part of the city and do whatever he wishes. But your likely to see on the news either way… ( ̄▽ ̄💧
He dose enjoy the more civil and nice talks he has with you though! He finds it nice to take a break from all the crude talk on the street from other sinners and have a nice conversation!
Great listener let me tell you, he’ll happily sit there as you explain your day away! He honestly enjoys hearing you genuinely happy!, although his a chatter box himself but he enjoys listening to you more then anyone or anything else!
Watches you be nice to the most repulsive, and rude demon like it’s nothing. Even when disrespected you find a way to calm down the situation and nicely at that. Of course the demon doesn’t live long once their out of your sight, but still! He’s pleasantly surprised.
He finds it rather weird that your nice just for the sake of being nice but still it’s definitely a nice refresher from all the horrible people down in hell!
You catch his eye rather quickly with how you stick out from others (in a good way! ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ) and his eyes end up on you, you mainly have all his attention almost always if he isn’t off doing something!, your his light just live Vox he’ll make sure you’ll shine bright as ever and won’t go out.
Not everyone can catch it but in some rare moments he’ll be seen just staring at you as you happily talk away to Charlie. And for the smallest second you can see his unnerving smile turn into a soft smirk, eyes only on you and his mind filled with only you. This happens on the regular, it’s just he’s quick to cover up so no one sees!
Overall he loves you, even with some differences between your views he’ll still do his best to make you comfortable. Aside from teasing you here and there! But other then that he’ll protect you, your one of kind. And he loves having things no one else can.
ఌ★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★ఌ
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AHHHH HELLOOOOO OH GORSH I MADE IT JUST IN TIME THIS TOOK SO LOBG TO DO CAUSE I KEPT HAVING TO DELETE AND REWRITE ON A NEW DRAFT AUGHHH I HOPE TUMBLR FIXES THIS BUG, BUT ANYWAY TYSM FOR REQUESTING PLEASE COME AGAIN!!!\(^ヮ^)/’
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lemonlover1110 · 15 days ago
Text
𝐑𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐬
Satoru Gojo
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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader
Summary: Satoru makes the biggest mistake of his life. If he could go back in time, he would take it all back in a heartbeat.
Warnings: Heavy Angst, Cheating, Smut, Oral Sex (f. receiving), Vaginal Fingering, Some Biting, Vaginal Sex, Daddy Kink, Creampie
*This is a commission for the lovely @mew4-ever18. Thank you so much dear, this was so fun to work on❤️ also you can thank her since she wanted me to share with y'all!
Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi
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There’s something wrong with Satoru, and you can’t quite put your finger on it– Well, you have an idea of what it is but you don’t want to accuse your fiancé of such an outrageous act of betrayal. He’s coming home later than usual, bearing gifts and stinking of some cheap perfume. He claims he’s working late with his secretary, the company is going through a rough patch and he has to fix it all.
You noticed it from the beginning. One night Satoru came home later than usual and he wasn’t your usual Satoru. He was distant and refused to even make eye contact with you. He was hiding his phone, and was extra wary about where he put it for the night. It happened six months ago, and you were willing to look past it because you loved Satoru and it was surely a one time thing.
Until the next day where the same thing happened. And then a week later. Six months later you’re dealing with the same issue, trying to convince yourself that it isn’t happening. The signs are all there, but you don’t want to question your partner’s loyalty. Truly after making such accusations, everything will be over. So you bite your tongue even though Satoru clearly acts differently for a reason.
“How was work today?” You ask him, clearing the table from the dinner you just had. You surprised him tonight, preparing one of his favorite meals since you knew he’d be home early tonight. You hope that by surprising him with food, he’d come home early more often.
Unluckily for you, Satoru played with his food the entire duration of the meal. He was looking at his phone the entire meal, barely acknowledging your presence. But you’ll attribute it to him having a rough day at work. A rough week at this point… Nevertheless, you’ll find a way to excuse his behavior.
“Can you help me clean up?” You ask him after your question goes ignored, and Satoru barely acknowledges your existence. You’re getting tired of this, and you’re not sure for how much longer you can withstand it. You speak again, your voice much firmer this time, “Satoru, honey, can you help me?”
“Uh… Sure.” He replies, standing up from the table and doing just as you’ve asked. You make some conversation with him, knowing you hold his attention for a small fragment of time and you have to make it count. He gives you vague answers, but at least he gives you something. 
Midway through the conversation is like a flip switches in Satoru, and he begins to smile as he speaks to you. He cracks a couple of jokes, and you two begin to laugh like the sweet couple you are. You feel like you’re in the very beginning of your relationship once again. He’s making jokes just to hear your sweet laugh.
Before you know it, you’re cuddling up with him on the couch. You allow yourself to easily forget about his past behavior, simply because he’s acting like the man you love after all this time. 
“Was dinner not good? You barely touched your food.” You ask him, and he bites down his lip.
“It was good, I wasn’t too hungry though.” He answers, though he quickly changes the topic. You partially understand why he wants to talk about something else. You’re finally having a good time, he doesn’t want it to change. “When’s your next work trip? I don’t want to get accustomed to having you here.”
“I’m leaving tomorrow for three days.” You respond, and you see a small pout come to his face. You almost laugh at the response, chuckling before kissing his cheek. You don’t understand the response when most nights he isn’t by your side either way, but you still appreciate the reaction. “I’ll be back in no time, babe.”
“I’m going to miss you.” He says, a phrase that is odd to hear from him but it brings a smile to your face. Maybe whatever is going on is fixable. You peck his lips, getting even closer to him.
“You can appreciate me while I’m still here.” You tell him, and within a blink of an eye, you’re on top of him. He’s given you no sign, but you feel the need to try to initiate something with Satoru. You had a consistent sex life with him until recently. The last time you felt Satoru’s touch was three months ago, and it was unsatisfactory to say the least… You hope you can change his mind this way. It’s stupid. 
You’re getting frisky, your hands unbuttoning his shirt while you kiss him, full of desperation. You need him. You’re too caught up in your own sentiments, barely noticing that he’s not touching you. You’re doing everything.
He’s not even kissing you back. You’re grabbing his hands and putting them on your ass since you know it’s one of– If not his favorite part of your body. But his hands quickly fall, telling you he’s disinterested.
“Satoru–” You pull away, about to ask why he isn’t even moving. Before a business trip, he’d make sure to remind you how much he loves you– But right now he can’t even keep eye contact with you.
“I’m not in the mood.” He mutters, and you swear you hear your heart break. It feels like this confirms all of your fears and doubts. You just know you’re frustrated. You get off him, and without even thinking twice, you blurt out,
“Are you cheating on me?” Which makes his eyes go wide. He looks at you, offended that you’ve asked that question. As if he hasn’t given you reasonable doubt. But even though the question lingers in your mind, you regret the words that leave your lips.
“How dare you?” He immediately replies, and you feel the urgent need to apologize for what you asked. You still want an answer that’s not his offense. Even though his response should give you an answer, you’re still wanting to hear him deny it.
“You’ve been acting weird– I don’t know what to think.” You try to justify yourself, as Satoru stands up from the couch.
“What? I told you I’m busy with work! But your first thought is that I’m–” Satoru finds himself yelling, and he stops himself. He takes a deep breath to not be too rash. He’s upset, but he won’t yell at you. “I love you so much, why would you even say that? I’ve done nothing but be loyal and cherish you but you’re–”
“You’re acting weird, Satoru! I– I’m sorry that I even suggested that but you’re acting really weird.” You’re tripping over your words, getting nervous during your confrontation. This is something that can completely ruin a relationship, you should’ve bit your tongue and held back on asking the question. 
“I can’t even look at you.” He mutters, walking away from you. He’s heading toward the front door, and you can’t stop him. You want to tell him to stop, you can figure this out; however, your voice gives out. Maybe deep down you know that you don’t have to apologize for anything. 
The feeling lingers, deep down you know you’re right. 
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You allow yourself time to think. Time away from Satoru to decide what you want to do with your relationship. Work keeps you busy, but it reminds you of him. You met with him through your work, you were hired to accompany him on a trip and he kept flirting with you until he mustered up the courage to ask you out.
You’re wondering if maybe your work is the reason why he’s acting like this. Maybe you’re overthinking that he’s distant, and he’s actually just worried that someone else will woo you. You’ll think of anything to excuse his behavior, anything to stay on cloud nine when it comes to your fiancé. 
During your time away you reflect on your relationship. You need to have a serious chat with Satoru, something that you’ve been holding off on. You don’t want to have tough conversations in fear of hurting him, but it’s hurting your relationship.
You’re losing sleep over your issues, and you can’t stay away for another day. You’re going home early to try and fix your relationship problems, because you won’t be able to properly rest if you don’t fix it. 
Luckily, the lights are on when you come home. You’ll be able to speak with him immediately. You hope that by next week this will all be something that you laugh at. Alas, you know that you’ll need to put in a little more work. 
You walk into your place, leaving your luggage in your car. You want to talk to Satoru as fast as you can. 
You expect to find him in the kitchen, cooking something for himself since Satoru tends to try to make himself something when he’s free. But you guess you’re a little late. It’s past dinner time, he’s not in the kitchen… But he did leave a mess. You’re about to walk past it and check for him in the bedroom, but your eyes fixate on the sink.
Two glasses of wine. One has a red lipstick stain. The son of a bitch lied to you– No, maybe you’re overthinking. Perhaps he invited his mother over for dinner. He’s probably upstairs, too tired to clean up after himself so he left the mess for the morning.
You take a deep breath, using all your might to move your feet. You have to go upstairs to talk to him. You pray that you find him sleeping so you can avoid this whole situation right now– Or that the scene that plays in your mind isn’t happening.
Satoru is loyal to you. Satoru is loyal. You keep repeating the words to yourself as you walk upstairs. Your heart is about to beat out of your chest with every step. You’re getting sweaty, and thinking of the worst when you’re standing outside the closed bedroom door.
You hear it, and your heart breaks. You’re fidgeting with your fingers as you press your ear against the door to listen better. It’s his voice… It’s Satoru. Your Satoru. The same man that got defensive when you confronted him about his loyalty.
A man that you’ve loved so dearly for years, has betrayed you in the worst way possible.
But maybe, just maybe, you’re getting this whole situation wrong. You refuse to cry when you’re probably misreading this situation. Perhaps he’s just watching some explicit videos on his phone, something to kill his loneliness. You crack the door open, and you want to puke at the scene. 
A gasp leaves your lips, as if you’re surprised by it all. As if you didn’t already feel this was happening. Tears well your eyes, quickly spilling and falling down your face. He’s not only betraying you, but doing it on your own bed as if it were nothing. The bed that you’ve laid down beside him and shared so many intimate moments.
You make eye contact for a split second before you look at her. The woman that was always so sickly sweet with you is in bed with your fiancé. You always knew that there was something up with her, there was no plausible reason for her to be so nice. You brought up your concerns with Satoru, and he brushed them off.
“You two can go to hell.” You yell, remembering the words that Satoru always told you: She’s no one important, she won’t last long in the company or something along those lines. And yet here she is. You’re holding your breath, unable to exhale until you finally turn around. You hear Satoru call out your name as you begin to walk away.
You try to hold back on crying now, you don’t want to look pathetic in front of them. You’ll simply leave, even though he calls out your name to talk to you. The man that you swore you’d love for the rest of your life has made a fool out of you. With his secretary of all people… How cliché. 
“It isn’t what it seems!” Satoru is yelling, trying to catch up to you. You take a swift look at him, rolling your eyes. At least he has clothes on now, that’s an improvement. 
You don’t want to entertain him, you just head to the front door as Satoru mutters out baseless apologies. You don’t want to hear it, he’s just spewing whatever to get you to stay. Your hand lands on the cold doorknob, and before you get to turn it, his hand lands on your wrist.
“Please let me explain.” There’s desperation in his eyes, something that would’ve made you drop everything and tend to him ten minutes ago. Right now your blood is boiling, and the only sight that you want to see is a bloody Satoru lying down on the floor– It’s extremely unlike you, but you guess your thoughts won’t be too normal after finding out your fiancé balls deep into his secretary.
“Fuck you, Satoru. Fuck you and your secretary–” You begin before a loud laugh leaves your lips. It’s rare that you curse, but you can’t hold back now. You truly mean it, never in your life do you want to see the man that stands before you. You were ready to devote your entire life to him; yet, this is how he repays you. “I guess you already did, didn’t you?”
“Please, it was nothing.” He tries to explain which makes you scoff. You pry his hand off your wrist and open the door.
“I’m coming to get my stuff tomorrow while you work. I’ll leave the engagement ring on your nightstand.” You tell him before walking away, leaving him behind to yell your name. He mindlessly calls out to you, hoping that you come back to talk to him, but you don’t dare to look back at him. 
That concludes your relationship of years with Satoru. A few minutes of pleasure were worth ruining your four year long relationship, and an eternity together. You wipe away the tears that leave your eyes, trying to not feel bad about it. After all, Satoru made his bed, and you can’t change anything about it.
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Satoru tries to contact you more times than you can count, which results in him being blocked everywhere. You don’t want to speak to him ever again. You spoke to his parents one last time, and explained everything to them before closing that chapter of your life. You want to completely forget that Satoru Gojo ever existed in your life. In your mind, you want it to be as if you never crossed paths.
You had two weeks of dwelling in sorrow, pitying yourself for your ex-fiancé’s actions before school started. Going back to teach English was actually going to be more helpful to you than you thought. The students keep you busy, managing to push away any dark thoughts from your mind.
You find the school to be a safe space from all the drama that surrounds your life. You don’t have to worry about Satoru trying to get you to communicate with him, and you know that he won’t dare to show up at your work. The idiot somehow found out where you live, and he’s been attempting to send you flowers or other romantic deliveries that quickly get turned down or end up in the trash. 
You hate the turn of events. You were practically begging for a more eventful life since everything had suddenly become so dull– How you regret wanting that change. Yet you guess it’s better like this. You should be grateful that you found Satoru’s true colors before it was too late. 
“There’s someone that wants to talk to you… He’s at your desk.” Your coworker warns you as you walk to the office. You furrow your brows, picking up the unsureness in her voice.
It’s been nearly two months since everything happened, so Satoru is the last thing on your mind. So you don’t have a problem walking to the office, assuming that it’s a student that is seeking help. Though you’re not too sure about it since most of them are supposed to be in class.
A scoff leaves your mouth when you enter the office and you see the man that you’ve been avoiding for the past two months. As you watch him lean over your desk and inspect every little gadget that’s on it, you realize it’s a miracle that he hasn’t shown up at your door to beg for forgiveness.
He hasn’t realized that you’re in the same room, so you have two options: turn around and pretend like you were never here, or confront him. You want to turn around and avoid him. And you will. But just as you turn on your heel to leave, he calls out your name. 
“Can we talk?” Satoru asks, clearly desperate to explain everything to you… But what is there to explain? No matter the reason, what he did is unforgivable.
You want to yell at him, and tell him to get out of your life forever. But your coworkers are standing around and you don’t want to cause a scene. You have to swallow the sharp words that rest at the tip of your tongue. You choose a more professional way to deliver your message,
“Mr. Gojo, please stop contacting me. Next time I receive some sort of message from you, I’ll be forced to file a restraining order.”
He calls out to you again, but you don’t acknowledge him in any way. Your coworkers stare at him, wondering what happened between the two of you, but no one is bold enough to actually ask. For your ex-fiancé to show up at your work to talk, and refusing to speak to him is no small feat. Regardless, no one will ask you and no one is going to dare to speak to the man.
They don’t get a chance either way, Satoru quickly walks out of the office after checking his phone, leaving the place behind. Leaving too many questions unanswered.
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“What do you need?” Satoru answers the phone with attitude when he gets into his car. He’s too annoyed to deal with anything else, especially with her. The woman that he broke things off with immediately, yet she won’t leave him alone for some reason. 
For some reason, as if he hadn’t started an emotional affair with her– Sure, for him it was purely physical but for her it seems like feelings developed. Even though he tried to fire her (which didn’t work out since she threatened to sue due to an inappropriate workplace relationship with a very clear power imbalance), she keeps trying to call him and act as if their relationship hasn’t ended. 
“When are we meeting again?” She acts as if nothing happened. Her voice is so irritating to him, it’s become one of his most hated sounds. He rolls his eyes when he hears her speak, and he has to sigh. He can’t get rid of her completely, as much as he wants to. 
“Please refrain from calling me unless there’s a work emergency.” Satoru tries to remain calm. He’s not going to waste his energy by losing his cool on her. By keeping things professional, he hopes that she’ll take a hint and leave him alone. But he’s not so lucky, he’s getting extremely bad karma for his actions. “Is there anything else? I’m busy.”
“We– We have to talk.” She sounds hesitant, though Satoru doesn’t really care. If she wants to never speak again, he’d be overjoyed. 
“What is it?” He asks, hoping that it’s something she can say over the phone. He wants to meet as little as possible with her. The line is quiet for a minute before she says,
“Can we please meet in person?” She questions, making Satoru scoff. No way in hell will he willingly meet up with her. His response gives her the answer she needs. She knows he’ll hang up soon so she blurts out, “I’m pregnant.”
“Huh?” His eyes go wide as he processes the words that he just heard. Pregnant? No, that can’t be, he’s always been so careful with her. He ensured she was on birth control and he always made sure to wear a condom. A pregnancy shouldn’t even be possible. “What– You’re not lying to me, are you?”
“I– I’m not. I wish I was.” He can almost hear the smirk that’s on her lips. She tries to act like this is something bad, but he can hear that this is ideal for her. “I swear I’m not lying.”
“What the fuck?” Satoru is pinching the bridge of his nose as he wonders how the hell this happened. He still can’t believe her, and he won’t until he sees a test result right in his face. One that he sees her take.
He absolutely can’t trust her with anything.
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Satoru finally decides to leave you alone for the first time in months. You’re still on his mind, but he has bigger issues to deal with right at this moment. Somehow, someway, he’s becoming a father. This wasn’t in the cards for him, especially with someone that isn’t you. 
“What do you think about going shopping for baby clothes tomorrow?” She’s resting her head on his lap, talking like she usually does when she’s with him. He’s engrossed with his phone, creating a new account to check up on your social media. Satoru’s given you space since he has a girlfriend now. 
He’s not sure if he’s a coward or what, but he can’t do much. He got someone pregnant, so he’s forced to step up. He’s fucked up in a lot of ways, but he isn’t the type of man that’s going to leave his child behind. But he’s for sure the man that secretly looks at his ex’s social media. 
“Satoru, are you listening?” He hears, and he hums in response. Though he’s not too enthusiastic, which makes her sigh. She raises her head from his lap and squints her eyes as she looks at him. She doesn’t have to look at his phone to know.
She snatches the phone out of his head and tosses it to the side, making a frown appear on his face. He’s about to protest but she gets on top of him, cupping his face. “You know… I miss you.”
“I’m right here.” Satoru can’t make eye contact with her. He feels guilty by just looking at her. Not because he feels like he owes her anything, but because by looking at her he’s reminded of you. You two would’ve been married now. 
“Baby, stop thinking of her.” She says, going down to peck his lips. The sentence would’ve driven any other woman mad, but that’s her reality. It’s been her reality since the beginning, ever since she decided to sleep with a man that was in a relationship. “I saw her last night.”
“Where?” A sudden spark appears in his eyes which ticks her off. She has to pretend like she doesn’t see it.
“She was out with some man.” She’s fighting off a smirk, she can’t seem wicked in front of Satoru. Though watching his expression darken satisfies her. “She’s moved on, you can move on as well.”
“I guess.” Satoru is vulnerable, weak enough to believe anything that goes past him. As long as he gets to hear about you, he doesn’t care if a statement is true or false. Though he doesn’t like the news he’s receiving. “Are you sure it was her though?”
“Yeah. I know so. She’s hard to confuse with someone else.” She answers, and Satoru clenches his jaw. Perhaps it was just a male friend, no one that you’re interested in romantically… Though he did the same thing, and this is where it landed him. “I’m here for you, baby. Me and our baby.”
She grabs his hand and places it on her small bump, reminding him that they’re bound together for life. Satoru is biting down his lip, jealousy consuming him at the mere thought of you with someone else. He almost wants to get back at you. As if you’d get hurt by what he does or doesn’t do. You’ve moved on from him, you clearly don’t care about what he does. 
Satoru knows that he’s lost you, he doesn’t win anything by not giving in. He is touch deprived, desperate to feel something more. He’s already sacrificed so much for the few moments of pleasure that the woman in front of him gave him, what’s one more time?
Her lips land on his again, and he doesn’t fight it. But he also doesn’t kiss her back. The situation reminds him of the last time that you made a move on him and he rejected you. He’s so close to shutting his eyes and listening to his dick, but he almost pukes when an image of you pops up into his head.
He can’t do it, not even when he’s trying to get back at you. It’s his bad karma. He ends up pushing her away, telling her, “It’s best if we don’t.”
“What’s the harm in it?” She’s annoyed that he pushes her away. He’s not wrapped around her finger like she thought.
“I’m not in the mood.” He takes a firm stance, and she tries to remain calm. She opens her mouth to speak but Satoru clears his throat, “I think it’s best if we stop whatever we’re doing here. It’s not healthy.”
“What do you mean?” She furrows her brows. Satoru takes a deep breath, thinking of how to land the blow. He knows that she won’t be too delighted, but does he really care about her feelings?
“If we’re going to have some sort of relationship, it’s only a co-parenting one. I’m not interested in anything else.” He says, and she begins to laugh as if it’s some kind of joke. Though it fades when she realizes that Satoru has a stoic expression on his face. He couldn’t be more serious.
“Satoru, I am carrying your baby. You can’t be serious.” She makes a big show of it, putting her hand on her bump. She wants to make it as clear as she can that she’s expecting his child. 
“Which is why we’ll co-parent. Other than that, I’m not interested.” He responds, and her hands ball up into fists. She doesn’t understand. He’s already lost everything, what’s the harm of being with her now? He should move on since you clearly don’t care about him.
“What is wrong with you?” She asks, completely offended. How could he not want her? He’s risked everything to be with her, but when he actually can be, he refuses. “We’re having a baby, you’re not with her anymore– We can finally be together.”
“I don’t want to be with you. It’s simple.” Satoru answers, and before a major argument ensues, he stands up. He begins to walk to the door, leaving her behind to yell at the wall. He knows arguing is senseless.
If she wants to escalate the situation, he’s more than willing to settle everything in court.
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Satoru is trying to come to terms with the fact that he’s becoming a father, and you aren’t the mother. His secretary is six months along, and time is flying by. The day that his baby is born is getting closer, and he has to come to terms with it soon.
His parents aren’t thrilled by this. They love his son, but they hate that this is the result of an act of betrayal. They dreamed of becoming grandparents but the situation was much different than this. They’ve made their feelings clear to Satoru, but Satoru couldn’t care less. He has his own feelings to account for. 
Satoru has his own weird feelings and behaviors to deal with. Like camping in his car, and waiting outside your apartment. He wants to see if you’re actually seeing someone else. With all his other issues, he’s been limited in time. He’s only been able to check up on you through social media, and you haven’t been posting which means he has no way of checking on you. He can’t contact your friends without getting cursed out, and he can’t just reach out to you to ask. Therefore he only has one way to check up on you; even if it’s creepy.
You leave the house at around 8:00 PM, and he’s on the move. You take a cab, and he follows you to a nice restaurant. Outside of it you meet a man. Satoru squints, trying to see every detail of this man. Perhaps it’s some relative that you’ve decided to meet outside a very expensive restaurant. Who is he fooling? You’re clearly on a date.
He still exits the car and enters the restaurant. It’s unlikely for him to get in without a reservation, but luckily Satoru is influential– Even when he isn’t well known, he has money to spare. 
He convinces the hostess to give him a table near your own, but your back is turned to him so you don’t see him at any time. He’s listening in, and he feels like a psycho for even being here but he has no other option. It’s a one off situation, a confirmation that you’ve actually moved on before he finally lets you go for good.
He doesn’t know why his heart hurts so much as he hears you laugh with someone else. He fuels with jealousy as he hears the dumb conversation that you two have. You don’t even sound entertained, but Satoru feels his eye twitch. He can’t just pop up at your table and ask you to speak, you’ll for sure ask him for a restraining order.
It’s best if he just leaves, it’s clear that you’re going out with someone else. He can’t do anything else. But just as he’s about to rise from his seat, someone catches his eye. He frowns, seeing the woman that carries his child, arms intertwined with someone else’s.
He watches attentively, trying to figure out if it’s a relative that he’s yet to hear about. He doesn’t really remember anything about his secretary… It was all sexual, and he didn’t care enough to listen to what she had to say about her life. Perhaps it’s a brother– The same stupid way that he thought you were here meeting a relative.
Satoru stands up and approaches their table, genuinely smiling as he sees them, “Good evening.”
“Satoru–” She looks astounded when she sees the man. She looks back and forth between the man that sits across from her, and Satoru. Her face grows red, knowing she’s been caught red handed. But she can play it off, she just has to control the situation before either speaks. “This is Satoru, my boss.”
“Nice to meet you, and who are you?” Satoru extends his hand for the man to take, and the man suddenly straightens his posture. She tries to speak, but Satoru directs his attention elsewhere. He doesn’t care what she has to say, he’s not going to believe her. Satoru doesn’t hear a name from the man, he blocks out everything except the vital word: fiancé.
“Well we– We… We were taking a break for some months and we’re back together now.” She attempts to play it off, and Satoru smirks. Right. As if he was dumb enough to buy it.
“We have a lot to talk about on Monday. Dinner’s on me tonight, enjoy it.” Satoru is sickly sweet with them, overjoyed by what he found out. He walks from the table and breathes a sigh of relief. It feels like a massive weight has been lifted off his shoulders. He just has to take one DNA test to prove that he isn’t the father, and he’s free of her. 
He’s upset to find that you’re not alone romantically, but he’s overjoyed by the news he’s just found out. He might not be becoming a father like he thought.
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After finding out about Satoru’s betrayal, you thought you’d never move on. A man that you were ready to devote your life to, threw everything away for no apparent reason– You never asked why, but you don’t care either way. A year later you’re thriving without him, and with a man that makes you happy.
The perfect man that sends you flowers to work weekly even though you’ve been dating for almost a year. A man that’s open to communication, handsome, hilarious and to top it off you have great sex with. You’re still not sure if Akito is the man that you want to spend the rest of your life with, but you’re pretty comfortable by his side. After all, he fills in all the checkmarks.
You’re preparing dinner with him tonight, singing along to one of your favorite songs as you chop some vegetables and he pours you something to drink. As the song and your voice drowns out, you bite down your lip and you prepare yourself to speak. You've had something in your mind for a while, but you’ve been too nervous to say it.
“I think I’m going to leave the agency.” You tell him, as he slides you a glass of your beverage. He continues his task without saying anything, and you feel the need to explain yourself. “I hate leaving on business trips every now and then. I just want to focus on teaching.”
“I get it.” Akito sounds unphased, and it bothers you. You feel his arms as he hugs you from behind before kissing your cheek. You bite down your tongue, unsure as to why you’re annoyed by this. He should be thrilled since it means that you’ll be around more often. 
“Is that all?” You ask, and he hums in response. He lets go of you and grabs a pan to begin his part of the dinner.
“Won’t you miss traveling? You’re going to lose touch with some of your languages.” He finally says, and you purse your lips together. You’re not satisfied by the response. Satoru would’ve reacted differently– No, you can’t compare him to Satoru. Akito would never betray you like Satoru did.
“I can always travel in my free time. Plus, it’d be more enjoyable since I don’t have to worry about work.” You respond, and he hums again. You compare him to Satoru once more in your head, before changing the topic. You can’t compare him to Satoru; after all, they’re on very different levels.
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“Hey!” An all too familiar voice calls out your name when you walk into the school. You begin to walk faster to the building, not wanting to speak to a ghost from your past. It’s been well over a year since the last time you saw him, and you intend to keep it that way. 
You know he’s following after you, and he’s quickly catching up because of his damn long legs. Just as you’re about to enter the building, he grabs your arm, stopping you from going inside and avoiding him. For the first time in what feels like an eternity, you look back at him and look into his regretful blue eyes– And your heart skips a beat like the first time.
“May I help you?” You ask, averting your gaze as guilt quickly consumes you. It immediately feels as if you’re cheating on your boyfriend.
“I heard that you’re not working with us anymore and–” Satoru is stumbling over his words, getting nervous. He should probably ask how you are first, or any other small talk but he knows it won’t help in this situation. He can’t waste a single second. “Did I do something wrong? I mean, I know I did with our relationship… But you’re leaving your job as a translator for–”
“Mr. Gojo, my decision is frankly none of your business. The last time we talked was over a year ago, you have little to no influence in my decisions.” You answer, and he gives you a weak nod. “Did you come all the way here just to ask me that?”
“I would feel like shit if I knew I did something else to make you quit… But I guess you wouldn’t leave the agency just because of me.” He runs a hand through his hair, giving it away that he’s nervous. You feel your face get warm, feeling giddy knowing that you make him feel nervous. But you quickly try to shake away those thoughts. 
“I just want to focus on teaching. That chapter of my life is over…” You explain, although you don’t have the need to. “How did you even find out?”
“Heard from a friend of a friend.” He responds before an awkward silence ensues. He should probably speak, but what would he even say? Hey so you remember my secretary, right? The one I cheated on you with? Well she got pregnant and made me believe that it was my baby but it totally wasn’t. That won’t make for great conversation, and frankly it would earn him a punch in the face.
“Will you let go of my arm?” You ask him, and he looks down to see his hand holding your wrist. He nods and lets go of you, muttering an apology for it. You take a good look at his face before turning around to go inside.
“Can we go grab a coffee soon? I’ve been getting counseling and I want to have at least one last conversation with you before moving on.” He says which makes you stop in your tracks. You chew on the inside of your cheek as you think about it… 
Maybe it’s what you need. One last conversation with Satoru will confirm your feelings for Akito. It’ll help you move on to the next chapter of your life with your amazing boyfriend. Not getting closure from Satoru is what’s holding you back .
“Are you free after four?” You ask him, and his eyes widen before quickly nodding.
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Satoru frantically looks around the café, trying to find a sign of you anywhere. It’s five after four, and he’s sure that you’ve stood him up. He’s a nervous wreck as he waits for you. This is what he considers his last conversation with you, and he knows that once you get to the café, his time with you is limited.
He shouldn’t be too upset about it since you haven’t spoken in a while, but knowing that it’s the last time you’ll talk still stings. He dwells on his decisions, regretting everything he’s done that’s led to this. If only he could go back in time, he’d beat himself up for making such a stupid decision. He let go the love of his life, all for nothing.
He zones out, thinking about you. A warm smile comes to his face as he remembers every tiny detail of you and of your relationship. His times with you were some of the happiest of his life, and his stupid self just had to screw that up. 
A snap of a finger brings him back to reality, and he’s overjoyed when he finds you standing in front of him. You bite down your lip as you see your order resting on the table. At least he remembered that.
“What did you want to talk about?” You ask as you sit across from him. You try to act indifferent. As if this doesn’t matter to you at all. You’re here to do him a favor, at least that’s what you’ll make it seem.
“How are you?” He won’t get to the point as easily as he did earlier. He slides your drink, hoping that you’ll take it without a second thought.  You glance at it, but you don’t take it into your hands immediately. 
“I’m great.” You respond, not asking anything back because you don’t want to seem like you care about him even though you do. You’ve been wondering for days on end how Satoru is holding up. Wondering if he’s moved on, if he’s with his secretary or whatnot. “So you’ve been getting counseling.”
“It’s been a rough year.” He chuckles, and you give him a subtle nod. You can relate, but your year has gotten progressively better. You’re happy with where you are. “You’re always on my mind but now more than ever.”
“I would say I’m flattered but… I’m not sure.” You confess with an awkward laugh. He agrees. 
“I haven’t gotten to properly apologize, and I need to do it to move on.” Satoru begins, and he takes a deep breath before speaking again. “I’m sorry for what I did to you. I threw away our relationship for nothing. You were the best thing to happen to me, and I messed that up.”
“Yeah…” You feel yourself get emotional, tears welling up in your eyes as you hear the apology. You had no idea how much you wanted to hear it. You thought that never talking to Satoru again would fix your issues, but you feel so much weight lifted from you as you hear his apology. 
You take deep breaths to calm yourself down. You won’t begin to cry in front of him. 
“Why did you do it?” You blurt out, wanting an answer for the reason why he betrayed you. You’ve come to terms that it isn’t for your fault, but you still want to know what prompted him to make that decision.
He stays quiet, which makes you ask, “Did I do something?... Was I not enough in that sense?”
“No! No, you’ve always…” Satoru begins, biting down his lip as his cheeks turn pink. It’s almost embarrassing to say out loud. “The best that I’ve ever had.”
“So, what was it?” You ask, and Satoru sighs. He doesn't really know himself. It was just something that happened and he couldn’t stop once it began.
“I’m an idiot, that’s all.” He admits, and it’s not the satisfying answer that’ll ease all of your worries. But it’s enough. “If I could go back in time, I would beat myself up for even thinking about it.”
“I would too.” You joke, and he chuckles in response. He’d deserve it. “But I guess I’m happy you did it. I’m happy with where I’m at now.”
“Really?” He raises a brow, and you nod, further confirming your words. He looks into your eyes, knowing that you don’t mean it. It’s so easy for him to read you. Maybe it’s because you’re with him, and there’s no way that you’d feel happy sitting across your ex-fiancé who betrayed you, but you don’t look happy. That spark that appears in your eyes when you’re overjoyed with your life isn’t there. “I heard you’ve moved on.”
“Yeah. I’m with this guy named Akito. I met him through work.” You share, and Satoru can’t help but furrow his brows. 
“Did you meet through the agency or–”
“The school. His nephew is in my class and we met through a parent teacher conference, since the parents couldn’t show up.” You explain. You finally grab the beverage that Satoru gave you and you begin to drink it. Conversation begins to flow smoothly, and you change to a more lighthearted topic.
You laugh nonstop for almost an hour. Satoru has a lot of flaws, but he knows damn well how to make you laugh. You completely forget that you’ve had a tumultuous past with him. The man in front of you isn’t the man that betrayed you, but simply an old friend that knows you better than anyone.
Though your loving conversation comes to an abrupt stop when you check the time and you realize that you have to go back home soon. You cut him off as he speaks, telling him, “I should get going.”
“Huh? Oh yeah.” He responds as he checks his watch. He got a little carried away, but you didn’t seem to mind. You’re about to stand up, but you take a moment to stare at him.
You bite your tongue, wondering if you should tell him what’s on your mind. Satoru is fun to have around, even if he isn’t your boyfriend or anything like that.
“We should do this again sometime. You might not be the best partner but you make a great friend.” You comment as you stand up. You’re about to walk away, but his voice stops you.
“I can’t.” He says, which takes you back. You’re a bit confused by his response– Is he dating someone? Is that why he can’t become friends with you? No, he wouldn’t have insisted on apologizing if he was seeing someone else. Sure, it gives him ease of mind but Satoru wouldn’t.
Before you can question it, he confesses, “I’m in love with you. I can’t be friends with you while you’re with someone else.” 
“Oh–” Your stomach drops at the confession and your breath hitches. Out of all things he could’ve said, he said that. You open your mouth but quickly close it because you can’t say anything. You’re speechless. You point to the door and say, “I have to go.”
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All the weight that was lifted off your shoulders after your conversation with Satoru, quickly comes back. You’re laying down next to your boyfriend who sleeps so peacefully beside you. He asked to spend the night and you couldn’t refuse. Yet tonight you keep glancing over, and wondering if you’re happy next to him.
You’re comfortable. Akito is a great man and you can see him being with you for the rest of your life. But do you love him? You knew you loved Satoru within a month of dating him, but you’ve been with Akito for a year, and you’re not sure about your feelings
You just want to curse Satoru out for putting you in this situation. You shouldn’t be questioning your feelings for your boyfriend. You’re happy, that’s enough.
You shut your eyes and lay on your side, trying to fall asleep. You aren’t going to question your feelings for your boyfriend because of Satoru. It’s all some dumb tactic to question your feelings. Satoru knew damn well that showing up at your work, and asking you to coffee will make your feelings come back–
Your eyes snap open as you realize that you’re still in love with Satoru.
“What’s wrong? You can’t sleep?” Akito speaks up, and from the sound of his voice you know that he’s been awake this whole time. You’ve been squirming, trying to find the right position that will get the unwelcome thoughts out of your head. You sit up on your bed, reaching over to turn on the light.
“I think we have to talk…” 
“What’s wrong?” He asks, sitting up as well. You told him that you met up with Satoru, something that he had no issue with until now. Now, he’s absolutely worried. With one swift look at him, he knows. He’s gotten to know you better than you know him.
“I should’ve known.” He chuckles, getting out of bed.
“I’m sorry.” You mutter, and he shakes his head.
“No need to apologize for it. You can’t control it.” He says as he begins to get changed in front of you. “It hurts like a bitch but at least we only wasted a year.”
“I’m sorry.” You repeat, burying your face into your hands. “I didn’t think this would happen. He’s hurt me so much and I–”
“It’s not something you can control, so I’m not mad.” He reassures you, but no amount of reassuring is going to make you feel better for what you’re doing to him. 
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After breaking up with Akito, you take a week to decide on what you actually want to do. You love Satoru, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that you should be together. You come to the conclusion that you want to try one last time; you’ve already wasted four years on him, would it hurt to waste some more time?
You contact him first, and you agree to take things slow. So painfully slow for Satoru, but he’ll take all that you’ll give him. He understands why you don’t want to rush things, so he isn’t annoyed by the fact that your relationship progresses slowly– But he’ll admit he’s tired of using his hand all the time.
A year after reconciling, you leave Satoru high and dry. The most you do is make out, and just when you’re moving to the next base, things come to a stop. You go back home, not even accepting the offer to cuddle. 
But tonight is the night, Satoru feels it in the air.
He’s cleaning up after cooking you a decent meal while you do something. He’s not sure what you’re doing, but he’s happy as long as you’re near. He couldn’t care less if you’re snooping around or stuffing something into your pockets to take back to your own place. 
“Satoru!” You yell, making the man nearly drop a plate. He bites down his lip, knowing that you’re in the bedroom. This is it, he’s sure. But he still has to clean up… Screw it. He can clean up in the morning.
“I’m coming!” He yells, putting the plate down in the sink and nearly running to the bedroom to go after you.
He finds you sitting on the bed, a smile on your face. This is it. 
You stand up, taking a couple of steps toward him before your hands meet behind his neck. You kiss his lips as Satoru’s hands go straight to your ass– That’s the most you’ve let him do. Poor guy has suffered enough, at the very least he can squeeze your butt to deal with this torment.
“What do you think if we–” You begin, and he frantically nods which makes you giggle.
You pull away from him, not allowing him to help as you take off your clothes. His hands go to your hips, but they’re quickly slapped away. You don’t need any help, but he doesn’t mind. Even when you take things so slow tonight. He’s not mad that you’re doing things slow tonight, he’s been waiting for so long to feel you, so he’ll appreciate every second of it. 
Satoru knows that he loves you, but staring at your beauty like this just confirms it more than ever. What a fool he was to even reject you once. And he almost hits himself as you get naked in front of him. How dare he?
Satoru helps you onto the bed before pecking your lips. Satoru begins to hungrily kiss down your neck, going down to your breasts. His tongue rolls around your nipple sucking. His soft hand caresses your thigh, the mere act making you squeeze your legs together. He hums against your nipple, something that earns a moan from you. A simple moan that nearly makes the man come in his pants… He’s needed you for so long.
“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” He says when he unlatches from your nipple. He kisses your breasts before going down and kissing your stomach, praising just how beautiful and perfect you are. He’s never been as lucky as tonight– Or well, the night that you decided to give him another chance.
He kisses down until he reaches your cunt, a smirk on his lips but he won’t spread your legs apart just yet. He begins to kiss your thick thighs, the sudden urge to bite down consuming him. It’s just a tiny bite that makes a small cry come from your lips. But you don’t stop him because it feels so good. He licks his lips, looking at his late night meal. 
His head goes down, tongue licks up your folds, almost going insane at the taste of you on his tongue. Satoru spits on your cunt before his lips go to your clit, a moan leaving your lips as you feel his warm mouth on you. 
“Oh, daddy. It’s so good.” Your moans sound like music to his ears. He’s sure he’s enjoying this more than you, even when you begin to moan daddy in total pleasure, he’s sure that he’s missed this more.
Satoru’s mouth kisses your clit before detaching, his tongue going down from your clit to the entrance of your pussy. He teases it, while his thumb plays with your clit. He’s already driving you insane, doing everything that he knows drives you insane. He wants your body to feel like it’s on ecstasy. He needs you to think of him and only him when you need some relief.
His tongue goes back up to your clit, circling around it while his fingers gather your slick.  He pushes two fingers in, and your eyes roll to the back of your head. They’re just so thick and long, it’s hard for you to contain yourself. You can’t help but moan, “It’s so good, daddy!”
It encourages him even more. He curves his fingers so they brush against your sweet spot, making you get even louder than before. Your voice is like music to his ears, and he wants to keep hearing it so he’ll do anything and everything to get a reaction from you. He remembers your body better than he expected, though he doubts that it’s something that he’ll ever forget.
He makes it clear how much he loves eating your pussy, moaning against your cunt with every lap of his tongue. Your thighs squeeze around him as you get lost in your own feelings of satisfaction. He’s going crazy. He can die happily right here.
You’re getting louder as pressure builds up on your lower abdomen, your climax approaching. Satoru feels you squeeze around him, fulfilling him. He’s completing his duty. A duty he should’ve been doing over the years.
He’s glad he’s back in between your legs, tasting you on his tongue. There’s no sweeter melody than you moaning in complete pleasure because of him. Your back arches, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you reach your peak, but that doesn’t stop Satoru. He takes his fingers out but his tongue keeps lapping at your cunt, running through your folds but mainly focusing on your clit. 
Satoru isn’t stopping until he’s satisfied, which makes you grab a fistful of his hair and pull him away. He whines but it doesn’t take him too long to kiss up your body until he reaches your lips. He pecks your lips over and over again until you put your hand over his mouth to stop him. 
“I need you so bad, Satoru.” You tell him, and Satoru doesn’t waste a second. He gets undressed in less than thirty seconds, grabbing your legs and putting them over his shoulders. He spits on your cunt before running the tip of his cock through your folds before teasing your entrance. You’re not one for begging, but you’re nearly begging the man to put it in. You’re desperate. “I need to feel you, daddy. Please, please, please! I need it.”
Satoru is dying inside because he doesn’t feel you around him. He needs you more than you need him. Right now. Always. Satoru pushes himself in, a breathy moan escaping his lips as he feels you around him. 
“You feel so good, baby.” He moans as he gives you a moment to adjust to his size. He begins with slow thrusts, one hand on your plush thigh while the other is on your hip. “I missed you so much.”
His eyes are glued to your face of pleasure, and the look on your face drives him weak. You’re so fucking beautiful, it’s crazy for him that you’re actually with him. Satoru moans your name before biting down his lip. He doesn’t want to be too loud, he’ll just look pathetic.
“Right there–” You moan as he begins to pick up speed. His cock hits every right spot, and it won’t take too long for you to reach your peak again after your first orgasm. It feels like he’s doing everything to drive you over the edge, and you can’t complain.
You’re squeezing around his cock, and he feels like this is an out of body experience with how good he feels. His nails are digging into your soft skin as he tries to contain himself. The hand that’s on your hip goes to your clit, he wants to ensure you orgasm again before he finishes.
“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He says. You hate the fact that no one will ever please you the way Satoru does. Maybe that’s one of the reasons why you’re getting back together. He goes just at the right speed, filling you with so much pleasure. Satoru does everything in his power to fulfill you.
You’re coating his cock with your juices, moaning loudly as your second orgasm of the night slowly gets the best of you. Perhaps it’s your high talking, but you’re so glad you took him back, and that you’re having sex with him tonight. You have no idea for how much longer you could’ve gone without him. 
“Oh daddy– I’m gonna–” You begin to announce but before you can finish your sentence, your orgasm washes over you. You drive him absolutely insane, how could he have ever screwed things up so badly?
“Can I–” He begins as his thrusts get sloppy, surprised that he’s lasted this long. You couldn’t give him a more resounding yes.
He swore he was done for when you got naked in front of him. He’s moaning, feeling too good as you’re wrapped around him. He can never go so long without you again– In every manner, truly.
Satoru comes to a stop deep inside of you, grunting before filling you up with his cum. He remains buried deep inside of you until he makes sure every drop of his cum is inside of you. When he pulls out, he lays down beside you.
He brings you into his warmth as he kisses your forehead over and over again. Words can’t even describe how he feels as he lays down beside you. He’s needed this for longer than he thought.
He kisses the tip of your nose before saying, “I’ve missed this so much. You’re so perfect.”
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Giving Satoru another chance was one of the best decisions that you could’ve made. Though things took a while to come together, and you don’t blindly trust him like you once did, your relationship is nearly perfect. Sure, Satoru has his flaws but you’re over the moon while you’re at his side.
Things took a while to start up, but then things escalated fast. By a year and five months you were engaged. By two years you were married, which made everyone happy; especially his parents who have always seen you as a daughter. And now after three years, you’re pregnant with your first child.
You’re six months along, expecting a healthy baby. You and Satoru came to an agreement to keep the sex of the baby a surprise, which does cause you to bicker since you think you’re expecting a boy and he badly wants a baby girl. He swears he’s happy regardless.
You’re happy your relationship isn’t stale, like it once was. Truly, every day by Satoru’s side is magical. Though right now…
“Are you almost ready? The venue is an hour away.” You remind Satoru as he decides which tie he wants to wear. Akito’s getting married, and although you don’t have much contact with the man, he’s invited you and Satoru to come; of course, you couldn’t pass up on the opportunity.
“You can’t rush beauty, my love.” Satoru jokes, making you roll your eyes. He decides to go with a navy blue tie, and he rushes to your side for you to tie it.
“If we’re late, I’m going to be so mad.” You remind him, as you tie his tie for him. You feel his hands resting on your bump, caressing the soft fabric of your dress as a subtle smile comes to his lips.
“It sounds like a dream. You’re so hot when you’re mad.” Satoru says before kissing your forehead. You roll your eyes, knowing that you can’t be too mad at him when he’s just trying to lighten the situation.
“Can you stop moving?” You ask him, and he hums in response. You kiss his cheek when you’re finished, turning around to walk away before being promptly stopped by Satoru. He wraps his arms around your bump, resting his chin on your shoulder.
“Can’t we just stay? Watch a movie or–” He begins, and you glare back at him. “Got it, we have to go.”
“That man helped me through some of my toughest times, the least we can do is go to his wedding and give him a very expensive gift.” You lecture him, and Satoru pouts like a child that’s getting scolded. “Now hurry up.”
“See, you’re hot when you’re mad.” Satoru responds, and you glare at him as if you could kill him. He won’t lie and say it’s not a bit scary, but he’s feeling an emotion that perhaps he shouldn’t be feeling.
You begin to walk away, leaving him to finish getting ready. Even though you’re a pregnant woman, Satoru somehow manages to take longer than you to get ready.
“I love you!” He yells, hoping to calm down the anger that brews inside of you. He should know better than to mess around with your hormonal self, but Satoru can’t help his personality at times.
A sigh escapes your lips, knowing that you can’t leave him hanging as much as he’d love to.
“Love you too, Satoru!”
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mrsstarkey1 · 3 days ago
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getting rafe hooked on dress to impress
my fav thing i’ve ever written i can’t even lie
word count: 1.2k
obx masterlist
you yawned loudly and abnoxiously as you walked into rafe’s bedroom. you kicked your shoes off, grabbing one of rafe’s t-shirts from his drawer, changing out of your uncomfortable clothes. “didn’t think you were coming back, it’s late as fuck.” rafe said, looking at you oddly as he sat up on the bed against the headboard.
“longest fucking day of my life. need to unwind.”
rafe smirked, reaching his whole body over the bed to grab your forearm. "like the sound of that," he mumbles.
you let yourself move toward him, but you groan, “not like that.” rafe momentarily pouts, but doesn’t let go of your arm. in fact, he pulls you closer onto the bed with him urging you to cuddle up into him.
he snakes his arm around you, soft fingers tracing circles into your side. "wanna talk about it?"
you yawn and shake your head, "nah, can we just watch a movie or something?"
rafe nods, grabbing the TV remote from the nightstand. "you don't wanna watch some chick-flick do you?" he asks, grimacing already.
you sigh dramatically, “i guess not. fast and furious?”
rafe obligies, satisfied with your suggestion. you get comfortable on the bed, your head rested on rafe's shoulder and your phone rested on his chest as you scroll through tiktok.
about 20 minutes later, you see a video about the new halloween update on dress to impress and gasp before you can stop yourself. rafe jumps slightly, eyes wide. “jesus christ, what’s wrong?”
"sorry, nothing," you grin apologetically, "can I borrow your laptop though?"
he looks at you like you've lost your mind, but he still grabs his macbook from the nightstand, handing it over to you. you sit up excitedly, leaning up against the headboard.
you open the laptop and sign into your roblox account, side eyeing rafe as he gives you an odd look. "the fuck are you doing?"
"playing a game," you respond innocently.
he raises his eyebrows, "roblox? wheezie used to play that shit.. when she was 8," he says, judging you hardcore.
you glare at him, "you don't understand," you sigh. "just watch me play, it's genuinely fun."
he watches you click on dress to impress, making a disgusted face. "yeah I can't defend you on this one," he says and you shove his shoulder.
"well have you ever played dress to impress?" you ask him.
"obviously not," he says, his sassy side on full display.
"well don't judge then. just watch and i'll let you play a round when i'm done," you say with a smile, patting his cheek softly.
"hell nah," he says, directing his attention back to the movie.
you shake your head, giving up on getting him to play. you start a round, looking around at all the new pieces they added. the theme is holiday for your first round, so of course you do halloween.
you notice rafe's eyes on the computer screen as his curiosity clearly starts to creep back in despite himself. he watches as you piece together combination of a witch hat, spiderweb dress, and dark boots.
“what even is this shit?” he asks, trying to sound nonchalant but clearly intrigued.
you grin, not taking your eyes off the screen since you only have a minute left. “you compete with other people to make the best outfit based on a theme. you'd be pretty good at it, you've got great style," you say, trying to persuade him.
he gives you a look, shaking his head, "sounds dumb as fuck," he says, and you just laugh. he's silent for a moment before turning slightly to have a better view of the screen, "so what you just like... dress them up and shit?"
you nod, watching the time run out. "yes, then everyone votes on each outfit and the top 3 get on the podium. see," you point to the screen, "the voting's starting now."
an outfit that's completely off theme struts down the runway and you grimace, "see like that one's ugly as fuck so i give it a 1. oooh look, this ones mine," you say with a proud smile. "doesn't she look great?"
rafe shrugs, "i guess."
you ended up getting third place, losing to two terrible outfits. you curse under your breath, before turning to him. “you wanna try a round?” you smile, looking up at him.
rafe scoffs, glancing back at the movie, but curiosity gets the better of him. “alright, fine, hand it over.” he takes the laptop.
"okay the theme is beach day," you tell him.
he hums in response, looking around at the clothes aimlessly. "rafe, you gotta pick something that actually matches,” you say, stifling a laugh as he pairs a yellow bikini top with neon green shorts.
"shh, I have a vision," he says, dismissing your words. "wait why the fuck doesn't she have a face?"
"you gotta go to the makeup and hair room, over there," you point at the screen.
he scrolls through the makeup options, finally decided on one. "mhm, she bad ain't she?" you chuckle, knowing rafe is secretly loving this.
time runs out just as he adds the coconut drink, and you see him watching the screen eagerly, waiting for the voting to end. one girl dressed in long pants and a jacket walks out and he looks over at you, disgusted, "this bitch didn't even look at the theme." all you can do is laugh and nod your head in agreement.
when rafe places second, he smirks, looking way too pleased with himself. "ha," he says, "i did better than you."
you roll your eyes. "yeah you're done playing," you say, snatching the laptop back.
the next night, you texted rafe that you were gonna come over after your morning shift and you didn't get a response, which was odd. you let yourself into his house with the key he'd given you. "rafe?" you called out, walking into the living room. "you here?" no response.
you furrowed your eyebrows, walking up the stairs. maybe he was just in his room, you thought, taking a nap or something. you creak open his bedroom door, met with the scene of him sitting on his bed, looking intently at his laptop.
his eyes shoot up to look at you and he slams his laptop closed, guilty look in his eye. you raise your eyebrows, "what were you doing?" you question him, walking toward the bed.
he rubs the back of his neck with his hand, shaking his head. "nothin.'"
your eyes narrow, "were you watching porn?" you joke, sitting down next to him.
he sighs, "worse.." he trails off. he mentally debates for a minute, before pulling his laptop back into his lap, opening it slowly to reveal dress to impress on full display.
your hand shoots to cover your mouth, laugh escaping your lips anyway. all he does is glare at you, "this is your fucking fault."
you lean into him with a laugh, "I know I know, sorry. don't be embarrassed, rafe." you press a kiss to his lips.
as you kiss him, you can’t help but laugh again, glancing at his screen. "okay wait that's actually a cute outfit. you're getting good," you nudge him, "fashionista," you add quietly with a chuckle.
he looks at you straight-faced, "I'm only playing this dumbass game because you dragged me into it. i was just bored so,” he gestures to the screen.
“sure, rafe, whatever you say,” you tease, cuddling up beside him. "feel free to keep playing, don't stop at my expense."
he scoffs, but gives in and restarts the game.
you wrap your arm around his middle and watch as he puts together outfit after outfit, the grin rarely leaving your face.
you just love your little fashionista.
----
requests are OPEN 💌
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sohnric · 16 days ago
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'cause all the cool kids, they seem to fit in. /
starting univeristy with you has jake tumbling into a big, irrational fear of losing you to all the new cool kids in your orbit. little does he know, you'd always be rather stuck with him instead.
pairing: jake sim x fem! reader
genre: best friends to ?, fluff, slice of life. domestic and so cutesy i wanna cry. jake is an insecure wet puppy in this i wanna hold him☹️ nerdy shy introverted jakey!!!!
wc: 2.6k
a/n: building legos with jake is my deepest life dream 💔 thank you as always for beta reading my belovedest!!! @csenke
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Eyes drifting from the small words and lined artwork in the manual to the crown of your head as you look down on the little building materializing right in your hands and then straight towards the wall behind you, Jake is almost too painfully aware of the time on the clock as you sit on top of his bed, enveloped by his red hoodie rather than the clothes he helped you pick out when you two went shopping together earlier in the day, chewing on the inside of his cheek and wondering when the time will come and you will leave his room to go do something better, something more exciting.
He curses himself in his head for being the way he is. For not being cool enough, for not being social enough to hold big parties he could invite you to, much like Lee Heeseung did, fitting snugly into your tonight’s schedule. For not being bold enough to flirt with you like all the new guys you’ve been meeting since the two of you got into university. For not telling everyone he is interested in you when they first asked him the question upon meeting the two of you in your shared classes. 
For not being loud and casual and funny like Jay is. For being nerdy and boring and maybe even a little shy. 
He curses himself out in his head for everything that makes him him, for everything he cannot change. It’s only been a few weeks since you two started university, and he already grew fifteen times more insecure than he was before– all because the painful realization that you won’t be around him, by his side forever, finally settled in after orientation– when he noticed the way you carry yourself and how it catches the eyes of many, and not just his.
It’s too late now to do anything, though. He will have to watch you slip from between his fingertips, he’s fully aware. Because you were invited to Lee Heeseung’s party– an upperclassman’s party– and an opportunity like this doesn’t get declined. 
The more he’s hypnotizing the clock on the wall, though, the more he’s concerned about the fact that you’re still residing in his dorm room instead of Lee Heeseung’s frat. And although he hates to see you leave, he doesn’t have it in him to stop his curiosity as he asks.
“Aren’t you supposed to be… like… on your way to Heeseung’s now?” he asks, voice coated with shyness mixed with curiosity, hating every single word that came out of his mouth.
“Hm?” you hum, looking up at him from under your eyelashes, a gaze that makes the boy immediately turn his head away and face his hands instead. “Oh, I dunno…” you trail off, not really giving him much of an explanation.
Jake furrows his eyebrows, confused. “Why?”
Out of the periphery of his vision, he sees you shrug. “I don’t really feel like going.”
This sentence alone makes the boy’s mood immediately a thousand times better. He can’t show it on his face, though– that would surely raise some red flags for you. Knowing he can’t face you because you can read him too well, he avoids all possible eye contact as he focuses on the Lego scattered all across his blanket.
“Suddenly?” he hums. “You bought a whole new outfit for it, though..?” A whole new outfit that you looked great in, Jake mentally grunts. A whole new outfit to show off in in front of Lee Heeseung, a whole new outfit that hugs your figure just right and makes Jake’s heartbeat quicken, his palms sweating as you twirled in the clothes outside of the changing room back at the store, asking him how you look.
“I can wear those clothes anywhere,” you snicker. “I dunno, Jake, I think I changed my mind about the party…”
Don’t show any emotion. Don’t look happy about it, Jake has to remind himself. Stay cool, calm and collected.
“Why?” He has a lot of questions.
“Well, first of all, I don’t really know these people,” you say, laughing to yourself. Jake could argue with the fact that Park Sunghoon, his new roommate for the year that you met a load of times before since you hang out with Jake in his room often, would be there– he doesn’t, though. He listens to you as you continue. “I doubt I’d have fun there if I don’t know anyone.”
“I think meeting new people is kinda the point of a party, though, isn’t it?” he notes, earning a soft chuckle out of you.
“I guess… But I dunno, I think the moment I got to your room and we started building these, I was completely sold on just staying over and hanging out with you instead,” you mumble, tone of voice soft and tender, making Jake’s stomach buzz with a thousand fireflies, lighting up his intestines and making him warm all over.
He prays it doesn’t mirror on his cheeks. There’s nothing to blush about in such a simple statement, after all.
“Oh,” is the only thing that leaves his mouth, taking the new information in.
You chose to build Lego with him over going to one of the biggest frat parties of the year? You chose to hang out with him over Lee Heeseung? All of it is making Jake’s fingertips buzz with excitement, a satisfied smile begging to jump onto his cheeks– he keeps suppressing it, though. He’ll keep the celebrations to himself, after you leave.
“Besides,” you clear your throat, “I think it was rude of them to not… not invite you as well, y’know,” you note, shrugging, all nonchalant. 
Jake’s ears start ringing. He didn’t think you’d mention it– he didn’t even think you paid it much mind. 
He wasn’t bitter about not being invited to all the big, cool parties. He made a few new friends already, and they aren’t going either– it’s not like Lee Heeseung and his group are the only acquaintances he could hang out with. It stinged a little when he realized your new friend group was so much different to the one he was building for himself– merely because the fear of watching you detach yourself from him after seeing just how uncool he really is compared to all the fun, outgoing people you surround yourself with nowadays was too much for him to handle.
“Well, they are your friends, not mine,” he shrugs. “And I’m not exactly the party type,” he justifies.
“Well, no,” you admit, “but the invitation would’ve been nice anyway. You’re my best friend, of course I would wanna bring you along.”
Jake chuckles at your words. He’s your best friend– and something about that makes him both overjoyed and a little defeated at the same time.
“Y/N, look, I won’t be mad if you still wanna go. You don’t have to stay with me–”
“But I want to,” you cut him off, finally forcing the boy to meet your eyes. You smile at him all soft and gentle, making Jake melt away and bashfully grin at your hurried argument. “I’m having much more fun building these with you than getting drunk with Lee Heeseung in a frat somewhere, trust me.”
As if to further prove your point, you nestle a little in your place and stretch your legs out as you plop your back against the perpendicular wall, landing your limbs right into Jake’s lap. The boy swallows at the sudden act of affection from you, instinctively resting his forearms against your shins as he continues to work on the Lego set you two picked out together in the mall.
If there’s one thing Jake enjoys doing the most, it’s Lego. His impressive collection stayed back home, though, so you insisted that he has to get at least one set to build to display in his dorm room as well. Convincing him was hard only until you told him you will get one as well and build it with him eventually– not really knowing just yet that the time would come the same day, later in the evening.
The boy lets himself relax once the idea of you leaving any minute and forgetting all about him and the bond you two have is disapproved of by your own words. Eyes involuntarily landing on your face every few seconds and the relaxing, yet heart-palpitation inducing humming of a song unfamiliar to him are preventing him from fully focusing on the Lego set in his hands, making him fall behind. The realization of the fact has you furrowing your eyebrows at him once you finish building up the blocks in your own hands, shifting in your position so now you’re sitting back next to him, legs still hovering over his– making you basically sit in his lap– as you speak up close to his face, having the boy’s ears ring and palms sweat, clammy with the bricks in between his fingertips.
“What’s taking you so long? I swear I witnessed you building that huge Star Wars ship faster than this little thing,” you giggle, taking a block from the little hoard of them on the blanket in front of you two into your hands and offering it to the boy.
“Dunno,” he mumbles, swallowing hard as you help him build up the little structure, hands tangling with his, skin brushing against skin, the scent of your shampoo hitting him in the nose. 
It only takes you two a couple more minutes to finish building the little structure– since the Lego sets you bought were similar, which meant you already knew what you were doing– and as the Lego flowers sit right at Jake’s feet, he lets himself admire them for a bit. 
“You should put them on your table there,” you prompt, pointing towards the desk under the window that’s sitting right opposite of Jake’s bed. “I think it would look super cute.”
Jake nods. He thinks he’d agree with anything that ever comes out of your mouth.
“Put this one next to it,” you snicker as you drag your own Lego set into his point of vision, the sakura flowers making Jake’s poor heart jump, twisting his head to face you.
“Huh?” he voices out. “But that’s yours.”
You shrug. “I bought it for you, ‘cause you like Legos so much,” you hum. “Besides, you can always think of me when you see it on your desk,” you nod.
That’s a silly idea. Jake always thinks of you.
“But you bought it with your own money, you can’t just–”
“Watch me,” you laugh as you scramble to your feet, taking both of the Lego plants and putting them into the corner of the desk, to the opposite end than his lamp is situated, admiring your interior design work.
Jake quickly follows you with a pout on his face. It’s not that he doesn’t enjoy the sentiment, no– he just really dislikes the idea of you spending money on him. 
“Y/N, you spent money on that! I thought you were getting it so we could match and–”
You spin towards him, making the boy’s breathing hitch in his throat. It seems he didn’t successfully estimate the proximity of his body to yours as he was trying to take the Lego off the table, earning himself only a few centimeters between his and your face. Looking at you with wide eyes and mouth hanging agape– unknowingly making himself seem like an eager, adorable puppy– he can’t help it but let his eyes roam all over your features.
“You can buy me a real plant and I’ll keep that one on my desk, how about that?” you ask him sweetly, raising your brows at him and sending him that cute, cunning smile. 
Something about you right in this moment is making Jake’s blood boil hotter, your composure teasing, daring. The second your arms sneak around his neck, he’s a goner– he can’t think of anything else besides your sheer existence and how that alone makes him feel. What’s worse, he can’t put his attention anywhere but to your soft, plump lips. 
He thinks he’s going crazy. This is insane. If you like playing with him, then he’s happy enough to be your toy– anything but letting you go is good in his eyes.
He doesn’t allow himself to move. Having you like this is already enough for him– it’s far more intimate than anything he’s experienced with you, with anyone ever before– and it’s just a simple hug, goddamn it. You’re breathing the same air as you let your forehead rest against Jake’s, the action alone making him feel weak in his knees, a fit of fireworks erupting in his stomach harder than the New Year’s celebrations. 
He’s trying hard not to think about kissing you right now. Not because he doesn’t want to– no, he just believes you don’t want to. 
Because this is just what friends do on Friday evenings, right? 
Don’t get your hopes up, Jake thinks. You just finished building Lego together– how much of a loser can you really be?
Not enough to stop himself from imagining, it seems. 
Because your face moving towards his with unstoppable force can only ever be a dream– one he’s had far too many nights, far too often than he’d like to admit to himself. 
It feels so real, though? He almost lets himself believe it. He almost lets himself indulge in the fantasy– perhaps even make it a reality– before the bubble bursts itself and all his hopes and dreams with the sound of the door opening, making you jump away from him.
You should’ve locked the door, Jake curses at himself. Actually, no– that would be weird.
Either way, he can’t help but roll his eyes when he hears the voice of Park Sunghoon break the silence. 
“Yo, Y/N, are you coming or not? Heeseung texted me to ask about you. I can give you a lift, if you wanna, but I’m leaving, like, right now, so– did I interrupt something?” the taller boy finally realizes after you send him an annoyed look, the question so deadpan it has Jake cringing at the words.
“Yeah, no,” you clear your throat, dropping your arms and putting some space between you and Jake. “Uhm– I… I’m not going tonight. Thanks, though.”
“So you’re staying behind with that nerd?” Sunghoon asks, a teasing glint in his grin. Jake doesn’t know if he should be taking it personally.
“Yeah,” you nod. “Hanging with the nerd tonight,” you joke, looking behind your shoulder. The gaze you send Jake is softer, more tender than he imagined– something about it making heat crawl to all crevices of his body and making him immensely embarrassed, as he knows there is a blush very apparent and unhidable on his cheeks right now.
Sunghoon nods. After taking one last look between the two of you, the male shrugs. “Alright, then. Have fun!” he says as he turns to leave. Jake thinks the torture is finally over and he gets to be alone with you again, before his roommate spins on his heel and sends you two another shit-eating grin. “Can at least one of you text me if I should find a place to sleep tonight, though? I wouldn’t wanna interrupt again in case you end up–”
“Get out!” you yelp, chasing after the man, threatening him with your fists and kicks.
Jake feels like burying himself alive under the cold ground and disappearing. Curse Park Sunghoon, Lee Heeseung and all the cool kids in school– because it seems that one way or another, they always have a way of keeping you from him. 
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