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saintobio · 7 months

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sincerely yours. (8)

↳ gojou satoru/reader

when a twist of fate led their marriage to the path of a quintessential tragic romance, two past lovers go through another series of experiences on love, heartbreak, identity, illness, and trauma along the road to a happily ever after.

genre. heavy angst, amnesia, modern au, 18+

tags/warnings. profanity, mentions of cheating, implied suicide attempt, toxic relationship, explicit smut

series masterlist -> episode nine

9:21 AM.

Tap. Tap. Tap. The sound of your index finger drumming a slow and steady cadence against the table was nearly in perfect synchronization to the tick tock of the clock above the wall behind you. An icy, uninviting atmosphere was the best way to describe the current situation inside the conference room at this time of the morning, with the gelid detachment between the boss and her employees as you built a wall—an impenetrable wall—around yourself to keep the inner turmoil you had in your head.

So, you listened. You succumbed to silence as a result.

“I’d like to present this new idea that we, along with the ecommerce team, have come up with to increase engagement on our website.” Even as the marketing manager started to speak, you remained frigid. “We did go through some feedback that people have been posting online and they’re mostly saying that the current web theme is too plain and that they’re hoping to see a more engaging website, so we would love to propose some ideas that could improve Hearte’s overall online presence. We know that keeping the brand’s look consistent is very important, especially now that Hearte is still establishing its own name in the fashion industry, and we have currently done a phenomenal job with our brand style. However, as the online website is our visual storefront, not only is its functionality critical, but we also have to ensure that the web design is in line with our aesthetics.”

9:26 AM.

You leaned back on your chair with your arms crossed, looking up to speak to the manager from across the conference room. “Let’s keep the unnecessary introduction short and just go straight to the point,” you strictly announced, receiving curious eyes in return as it was their first time seeing you becoming all stern and unamused. Such an odd sight to see from a boss who used to have the brightest of sunshines reflecting on her smile. “What’s the proposal?”

The marketing manager cleared her throat and moved her presentation onto the next slide. “Yes, Ms. Y/N. So… uh, based on the data that you can see on the screen, our online sales increased by 15% for the past two weeks, but we still have about 10% of shoppers abandoning their shopping carts. Earlier this week, we set up email campaigns and social reminders to decrease our abandonment rate and urge shoppers to return to their carts. While working with the IT team, we did some A/B testing to determine which version would drive our business metrics. We’ve also reached out to The Society Management and added Kendall Jenner to our PR list so that possibly, in the future, we can get her as a model for our landing page and attract the western market,” she continuously explained in a manner to convince you of how much effort their department was doing to increase Hearte’s sales, “But what we believe could bring a tremendous improvement on our website engagement is by introducing style guides. This will capture the interest of the audience now that they can mix and match some outfits based on their own style, and—”

9:32 AM.

Sigh.

“Ms. Ono, I have to be honest, but I expected more from you,” you cut her off by leaving a frank comment on her presentation, “Fashion brands have been doing style guides for years. You make it sound like it’s unique, but it’s nothing new. How sure are we that it will actually bring a dramatic improvement on our website engagement? I doubt most of them would even browse through it.”

“Well, uh…” The marketing manager faltered, glancing at the head of the social media team for some help, which she didn’t end up receiving. “I think it’ll work the way we want it to as long as we introduce engaging copies that make buyers fall in love with the designs.”

“You think?” You criticized her word of choice. “Ms. Ono, I gave you enough time to brainstorm with your team, so the moment you step inside of this conference room, you should have prepared whatever strategy you had in mind. I don’t settle for ambitious words like ‘I think’ or ‘I believe’. I want to hear a proposal that’s original, unique, and captivating. I want you to be a hundred percent sure that you know what you’re doing before you waste everyone’s time like this. Do you understand? Am I being clear? I want a proposal that would definitely get us somewhere and not just by assuming we will.”

Were you being too harsh? They said that the fashion industry in itself was harsh, so what was so surprising about seeing you being strict, candid, and business-like? This was the nature of your job. This was normal.

9:47 AM.

Very timidly did Nobara raise her hand beside you to chime in on the discussion. “I know I’m not in the position to make suggestions, but…” She pressed something on her laptop before carefully sliding it to your side of the table, showing you what appears to be a classic early 2000s ‘dress-up game’ with a base model and a selection of outfits that were inspired by your designs. “I just wanted to show you this, Ms. Y/N. I do agree with Ms. Ono’s idea to introduce style guides, but maybe we can do it in an interactive way. I know the dress-up game idea may look childish and unsophisticated, but I was kinda hoping that we can just make certain adjustments so that it could match Hearte’s classy and simplistic style. We can have base models in different body types and skin tones to show our brand’s diversity, then we can have shoppers try dressing them up using the outfits on our current collection. That allows them to easily visualize how the pieces would look on a certain skin tone and body type.”

The way everyone else in that conference table looked at Nobara was very obvious that they were expecting you to reprimand her for even having the guts to offer such a farcical idea. What does she know? They were probably thinking that. You’re just an intern. You knew they were saying that in their minds. On the other hand, you surprisingly liked her proposal and enjoyed the unique idea of introducing it to the website because her proposal actually did make sense. People would be curious, people would try it out by interacting with the website, and that means the engagement would rise up.

“I like that idea. We can go with that,” you said, sliding the laptop back to her while nodding at the marketing and social media managers, “I need the team to discuss Nobara’s idea further and polish it thoroughly before we can start adding it onto the website. Make adjustments as needed and ensure that everything is still in line with our brand. If you notice any flaws with this proposal, you can flag them with me and I’ll review them.”

9:54 AM.

Just as you were about to wrap up the meeting, a certain someone entered the conference room in haste—panting out of breath with her long, wavy hair and creased red pants. “I’m so sorry, I’m late.”

Her casualness made you clench your jaws tightly, fueling the fire to your already terrible day. You could no longer stop yourself from unleashing your rage as you looked up at her with a critical squint. “Ms. Hirai, what time’s it?”

“It’s ten, I know. I’m so sorry,” she repeated her apologies and paid an apologetic bow to everyone in the meeting room, “I’m sorry, everyone. I was caught up in heavy traffic today.”

You let out a silent scoff and ignored her compunctious act. “How long are we gonna keep using that excuse, really?” you questioned her, earning the intrigued eyes of your employees who were all sensing the sudden tension between you and your best friend, “As the fashion merchandiser and my second-in-command, you should’ve been here in this meeting with me, but where were you? You anticipated that there would be heavy traffic, yet you couldn’t be responsible enough in coming to work early knowing that we have a meeting? Or was it because you’re too busy doing other things so you’re no longer interested in showing up to work on time?”

Akemi shook her head, contritely. “It’s… It’s not like that.”

“Not like what?” Your icy stare bored into her. No trace of compassion was present in your eyes. “I’m sure you’re living a very blissful life outside of work and I’m glad you are, but is that also why you don’t bother with anything else anymore?”

“Y/N—”

“Miss Y/N,” you corrected, “I’m your boss, so treat me like one.”

Wide, chocolate brown eyes greeted you in response. It was clear that she was at a loss of words and could only repeat her meaningless apologies a thousand times. “I’m really sorry, Ms. Y/N. It won’t happen again.”

“You didn’t even let me know that you’ll be coming in late,” you continued and ignored the pitiful expression on her face, focusing on her swollen red lips and her dewy, rosy cheeks. She must have had a really good morning to look like a cherry blossom on a spring day. Was she so preoccupied being all lovey dovey with your ex-husband this morning? Did she sleep comfortably on the same marital bed you used to share with him? Your jaw tensed visibly. “You’re just coming in whenever you want. You don’t respect people’s time. You don’t respect my rules. You don’t respect me.”

Yes, you were overreacting by taking things too personally and it was the reason why you got up from your seat and bolted out of the conference room upon realizing your unusual outburst. You could hear the clicking sound of your stiletto echoing across the corridor as you stomped towards your office, swinging the glass door open and heading straight towards the ceiling-to-floor window to have some peace of mind. Peace? How ridiculous. How could you find peace? You couldn’t even grasp the fact that your best friend was acting like everything was normal. You couldn’t understand why she was rubbing her relationship to your face as if she wasn’t just a placeholder to somebody’s ex wife.

“Y/N?” Akemi’s voice cut you out of your toxic trail of thoughts—your mouth thinning with displeasure while you didn’t bother turning around to meet her gaze. Breathe. You had to breathe and think rationally. “I…I understand you’re really angry right now, but I was hoping we can have this much needed talk.”

You could feel her reaching for your hand at the height of your frustration and your defensive instinct led you to angrily swing your arm away, accidentally hitting her cheek as you pivoted on your heel to face her. It took two seconds for your eyes to shift from glaring in frustration to widening in surprise after seeing the small cut your diamond ring left on her cheek. “Are you okay?”

“Y-Yeah, no, it’s fine,” she insisted with her palm pressed onto the right side of her face. “I deserved it.”

Good lord. What was happening to you? Despite having all these unspoken rage and unresolved conflicts between the two of you, you would still drop everything and be concerned for her. You would still let your walls collapse. You were the villain that couldn’t stick to being a villain. Why? Why did you feel this way? Was it because you knew she wasn’t technically doing anything wrong? Or was it because you were just projecting your personal frustrations onto her? Was betrayal really the issue here? Or was it the huge possibility that she could in fact be Gojou’s one true love? You had thought of this before, but the same questions in your head never stopped. And never did they stop from invading your headspace as you made your way towards the small fridge to grab an ice pack that you soon offered to Akemi, leading her to one of the couches while finally coming into your senses.

Yet there was silence and nothing but awkward silence when you two sat at a safe distance from each other.

“I’m shameless.” She was the first one to break the uncomfortable atmosphere. “I know you’re thinking that and I do agree with you. I really am shameless to even look you in the eye right now.”

You sighed and looked away, only to keep yourself from the furnace of pain that you had been bottling inside. “Stop. You’re making me seem like a villain right now. I’m tired of seeing myself this way.”

She closed her legs and sat humbly, reaching forward to squeeze your hand. “You’re not. You’re not a villain and you never were,” said the same woman you accidentally smacked a few minutes ago, “I understand why you would feel a certain way towards me. I’d even understand if you hate me so much that you wanna murder me. I’m your best friend and I know about your history with Satoru, yet here I am seeing your ex-husband behind your back. I didn’t mean it. I didn’t plan it. I truly didn’t. Even though you’re not together anymore and I’m technically not homewrecking anyone, I’m still putting us—you and I—in a really awkward position. You didn’t deserve any of that and I’m very sorry.”

At least, she was self-aware. But looking at the brighter side of things, you were getting calmer now that you were hearing her side of the story, though that didn’t stop you from feeling any less horrible. “I don’t really care who you date,” you claimed, adamantly, “And I most definitely do not care who Satoru chooses to date. We’ve been divorced for three years.”

“It’s still not right that I’m seeing him.” She let her guilt speak up for her.

And you let your resentment speak for you. “Then, why him of all people?”

“It’s…”

“Complicated?”

“Y-Yeah…”

You decided to keep a straight face. “How did this happen?”

Akemi looked as if you had just forced her to be on the hot seat because of the apathy on your visage. “It was a drunken mistake at first and we kinda just…”

“I’m not asking about when you two started fucking,” you replied, bluntly. Something you had never done before in your usual sophisticated vocabulary. “I’m asking when you realized you have feelings for him. When did you fall in love with him?”

She had trouble finding the right answer. “It just happened. I d-don’t really know. Whenever you asked me to look after him, I guess the bond he and I developed from that made me see him in a different light.”

You disregarded the pain in your chest and let the volcano explode on its own, because her answer only meant that she was already growing feelings for your ex-husband at the same time you were confiding to her about him. That was the worst part of it all.

“Why do you like him?” you questioned further, “Despite knowing what happened while I was married to him, why did you still end up falling in love with him? If that’s so hard to answer, then don’t think about us or me or our friendship. Just think about the decisions you made for yourself. Why are you with Satoru?”

Her gaze found the floor. Hesitance. Guilt. Shame. Those emotions were all dancing in her eyes in a complete roundabout. While she took a moment to fully reassess her decision, you weren’t sure if you deserved to still feel hurt when she gave you an honest answer. “When I met Satoru, I didn’t meet the toxic, cheating ex-husband that he was known for,” she said, slowly, “I met a man who holds such a high respect for his ex-wife, adores his son like his greatest gift of all, and values his marriage more than anything else in this world. I met a vulnerable man who isn’t afraid to open his heart to strangers. A man who gave me emotional support even when he’s the one who needed it the most. I… It’s hard to explain, but…”

Was there really anything left to say? Her point was clear, and your silence while she was speaking was more so because you were trying not to let the tiny pricks in your heart affect you further than it already did. The fullness of her voice and the way her eyes shined when she talked about him were enough to tell you that your best friend had truly fallen in love and you would be cruel to take that away from her. Even from him. They would not have been involved in such an intimate relationship if there had been no attraction between them to begin with, so then… Why did it feel like you were being cheated on? She was no Sera, and he was not the Satoru that only used you for his corporate ambitions. It was just Akemi and Satoru—they were each other’s right person at the right time. The only thing blocking their path to a loving relationship was you.

You. The irrational and spiteful ex-wife. The ex-wife who always played the ‘victim card’. The selfish ex-wife who wanted all the good things to only come her way.

Well, god be damned, because you were beginning to confuse yourself with the version of you that wasn’t even remotely like you at all. She was just a mirrored image of yourself that you thought people perceived.

“You can do what you want.” The moment you spoke again, you were already creating a huge wall between you and your best friend, making sure that there were boundaries that none of you should ever cross now that she had chosen to be with someone you had sincerely loved in the past. It may sound like you were letting go, but truth be told, you just didn’t think that you even had the option to hold onto anything. Satoru wasn’t yours and you weren’t his anymore. You were two individuals living separate lives. “If you wanna be with him, that’s your choice. I don’t plan on intervening. It just… just really surprised me that you didn’t have the decency to tell me at all.”

Akemi nodded, apologetically desperate. “I understand how you’re feeling and I’m sorry. I really, truly am sorry, Y/N.” Her voice and her countenance did show the genuineness in her plea to be forgiven, but you were too numb to feel anything else. “I hope we can stay friends despite everything.”

How could you even stay friends in a situation like this?

First option was to keep pretending that their relationship wasn’t bothering you. Second option was to focus on your own relationship with Toji to the point where everything else just didn’t matter anymore.

Yeah, you thought. You could certainly choose the latter.

“Our friendship isn’t my top priority at the moment,” was your straightforward response to her, “I wanna focus on my son and his relationship with his father. That’s all.”

Any regular person would have thought: ‘Wow, Y/N. You handled that well.’ ‘You’re so mature.’ ‘You’re a lot calmer than we expected.’ The thing was, you really did think that you had been way too calm about it. In spite of the scene you caused at the conference room, or the dramatic exchange you had with Akemi in your office, you still handled it much better than one would think. In TV shows or movies, the ex-wife would have dragged the best friend to the ground, slapped her face, pulled her hair, started a nasty catfight, and called her all the terrible labels you could think of. Look, part of you wanted to do that. And the other part of you—the sympathetic, altruistic part of you—thought you shouldn’t do that. You would only look pathetic.

Of all the negative things Satoru had made you feel over the course of your failure of a marriage, this aftermath was probably the toughest.

You just weren't in the right state of mind to justify why.

You also couldn’t justify why you had been looking for unhealthy ways to cope with stress and anxiety. If anyone from your family saw you standing at the smoking area near the parking lot right now, they would have given you an earful of how you must be out of your mind for even putting a cigarette stick between your lips. How exactly could tobacco be good for you? You would say, first of all, that nicotine does in fact cause pleasant feelings to distract you from unpleasant ones. You couldn’t find any other way to relax your mind any faster than one cigarette stick could. Besides, staying in the office and seeing Akemi around was getting too suffocating and you couldn’t afford to have your negative mood lingering in your mind for the rest of the day. One stick wouldn’t hurt. Another one wouldn’t, too. And another one should be fine, right?

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

The irony. You didn’t even have the time to recoil before the main cause of your stress showed up in front of you, frowning after he snatched the cigarette stick out of your lips. He was quick to throw it to the ground, stomp on it like he would do with your heart, and give you a questioning look that made you scoff at the ridiculousness of this situation. This could be a dream for heaven’s sake. Or a hallucination. There was no way Satoru Gojou would be standing right in front of you just as you were thinking about him.

“Since when have you been doing this?” he questioned again, holding your wrist this time to make you realize that his presence or this interaction wasn’t just a figment of your imagination. It would have been better that way, but the reality was, Satoru was there and he wasn’t the least bit pleased. “I know you’re mad at me and this isn’t the right time for me to chew you out like this, but…” he paused, taking your cigarette pack. “I can’t believe you’re fucking smoking right now, Y/N. Did you get this habit from Toji?”

Okay. Gojou could be way out-of-line sometimes, but this was the apex of it.

“Don’t bring Toji into this,” you snapped back, shooting him a glare that could easily kill. “What are you doing here?”

You could see how deep his inhale was just by the loudness of his sigh after it. His face showed a combination of yearning, regret, frustration, and pity as if he was deciding which emotion should dominate him more. But among the multitude of emotions that were drowning him right now like a tidal wave, he looked all the more exhausted. Whether it was dealing with you, trying to make amends with you, or simply being around you—you could tell that he wanted to drop his constant need to care for you because it was beginning to tire him out.

He didn’t really answer your question, and instead, asked one of his own. “Are you smoking because of stress?” he asked, trying to mask the sympathy in his eyes. “It’s bad for you. Set a good example for Sachiro.”

You’re bad for me, you wanted to say. Why did it even matter to him, anyway? You were nothing more than just a mother to his child. Anything outside that role was completely not his business anymore. The fact that he was even within the vicinity of your office was ridiculous, because you were already having a bad day and his presence was adding further into it. “Don’t you dare talk about setting a good example to my son like you’re so righteous yourself.”

“Y/N, come on.” He reached for your hand once more as if trying to show how much he cared or how worried he was with what you were doing to yourself because of him. “I don’t want you to—”

“Keep your fucking distance, Gojou. You’re not in the place to give a damn about me anymore,” you raged, withdrawing your wrist and breathing heavily as you tried to keep yourself from further exploding. You would have. You were so close to cursing him off, but you saw the flash of pure shock in his eyes, and that was how you realized what you just did. All these violent reactions, these unusual outbursts—these were not you. This was not the meek, soft-spoken ex-wife that he was once married to.

“Toru?”

Unfortunately, Gojou no longer had enough attention span to listen when he looked away, only to turn to his new woman with a genuinely worried expression painted on his face as soon as he saw her coming out of the building with a hand on her cheek. You realized that he was actually here to pick her up and was doing everything that a caring boyfriend would; checking every inch of her face to see how bad she was hurt and asking her what happened and whether she was okay. You didn’t know how to react the moment he turned back to you with his tired, yet passively accusatory eyes. “Did something happen?”

You knew that his question actually translated to: ‘Did you slap her?’ With your thorough knowledge about his acquired trauma from physical violence, you felt the sudden need to clear your name, but you didn’t know if you should be grateful that it was already your best friend who did the part in doing such. “Nothing happened. It was an accident.” Her tone was almost begging before she started tugging his arm. “Let’s just go, please.”

Satoru didn’t want to let it go, but decided that it was best to just leave it be as he glanced at you with a slightly detached gaze. “I’ll see you in a couple of days,” he reminded, referring to the dreaded New York trip together with Sachiro.

A conflicted look from him and an apologetic gaze from her. That was all that you received before they got inside the car and left you alone and miserable in that parking lot. You watched his car fade into view with her on the passenger seat and him probably holding her hand as he drove through the street. Just when you thought you could actually stomach the sight of him and her together, it would be a big fat lie to say that it didn’t sting. It stung worse than the times he ran after Sera than to stay behind with you. Worse than when he used to treat you like a mistress rather than a wife.

You must be going crazy, indeed. Who in their right mind would cry over her ex-husband in the middle of the parking lot? Why would you even shed tears when you were the one who wanted him to find someone else and move on? This was becoming a never-ending loop because you were letting yourself be affected by it. It shouldn’t be that way. Never.

“Toji.” You were doing your hardest to conceal the weakness in your voice as you pressed your phone into your right ear. “I-I need you… right now. Please.”

“Hey, I was just about to pick-up Sachi from daycare. Is everything okay?”

Wiping your eyes, you looked at the dull skies wondering if the universe was trying to reflect all these emotions running inside of you. “Yeah… Can you come soon?”

He didn’t really hesitate to answer, quickly understanding that he had to drop everything else right now and be with you. “Alright, I’ll be there.”

Satoru was conflicted, but he didn’t know what exactly made him feel that way. Was it because he saw you smoking in the parking lot? Or was it because he could tell that you gave Akemi a tongue-lashing after catching her half-naked at the penthouse a few days ago? Either way, both options were not very you. And he couldn’t understand why you were slowly starting to look less and less like the person he knew, which was confusing on his part because you had been adamant on telling him to forget about you. You were rigid on your decision to not let him enter your life as your husband for the second time around. He told you he still loved you, but you said you loved another. He told you he wanted to work things out and make your family complete again, but you said you were already doing that with someone else. Gojou knew his hands weren’t clean and the reason you may be acting that way was because out of all the women he could have been with, it had to be Akemi Hirai. Your best friend. Your confidante. Your business partner. She was a territory he shouldn’t have crossed, yet he did.

But, at the same time, she was the only person who had been there for him during his lowest. She was the company he needed when his heart was the loneliest. He couldn’t even remember the amount of times she came to his aid when he was crying over his memories of you, memories that he could no longer hold onto. Akemi brought peace to his heart, and if there was anyone else he could be with, it would be her.

It was becoming more and more clear to him how he felt about her.

Although, voicing that out loud was a different story. Keeping it in his thoughts was for the best because he didn’t want to lead Akemi on. She didn’t deserve that nor did she deserve to feel like a substitute for someone else. He wanted to be a hundred percent sure about being with her before he could fully confess his real feelings for her. It could still develop through time, perhaps far better and more passionate than what he was sharing with her right now, but until then, settling for what they had at this moment in time was for the better. What was important was that both parties were clear about diving into this relationship.

He wasn’t ready for commitment and she understood that. She was willing to wait for him. She was helping him move on in the least painful way. Where else could he meet such a person like her?

She was gentle, motherly, sensitive, and intuitive. She was classy and sophisticated. She knew how to dress nicely. Her nails were always clean and pretty. Her smile was very charming. Her laugh, endearing. She was the perfect woman anyone could have.

“Why’d you suddenly want to go to the mall?” she asked, intertwining their hands together as she looked up at him with her beautiful doe eyes. Her question made him cut out of his trance, remembering that they were strolling around the galleria.

He touched the small wound on her cheek as if stroking it could make it heal faster. “Nothing,” he said. “Just a last minute idea.”

Truthfully, Gojou wasn’t sure why he had brought her there. All he knew was that he had a lot going on in his mind while he was driving through the city and the next thing he knew, he was already pulling up at the galleria out of his natural instinct. But since they were already there, he might as well buy her a little something. Anything. And then his eyes caught sight of Chanel as if the high-end boutique was pulling his feet with such gravity that it led him to go inside the store while hand-in-hand with the woman next to him.

“Mr. Gojou, how are you?”

Right. The staff knew him so well, especially for the amount of times he had been there with his ex-wife when you two were still married.

“Are you looking for anything specific?” One of the familiar ladies that used to assist you approached him with a lingering stare towards Akemi. “Perhaps for your…?”

He cleared his throat. “Yeah, can you… uh,” he turned towards the rack of tweed sets, “Do you have any new collections?”

“Yes, absolutely,” said another lady, “Right this way, sir.”

It was easy to notice how the staff were exchanging glances at the sight of Satoru and Akemi together, but his mind was far too distracted by the nostalgia of being in that place alone to even care about his surroundings. All he did was look back at Akemi and encourage her to try out the newest collections that they had, thinking that she was oblivious about what was going through his head. “You go and pick whatever you like.”

Although she was clearly not used to it, Akemi did eventually try on some of the outfits he specifically had chosen for her. They were Chanel’s signature tweed sets that he always found to be very elegant, and he definitely wasn’t wrong that they would suit her when she came out of the dressing room to show him how the clothes wrapped her small frame perfectly.

He could see your smile through her face, your excitement when you tried the outfits on, and the shine in your eyes when you looked at yourself in the mirror. Except, Gojou had to remind himself that you weren’t her. That his mind was just messing with him.

No, this was wrong. Why was he thinking about you while he was with her?

He had to have some sort of distraction. Something so tangible that all of his senses would go numb.

The one way he was able to overcome that dilemma was by sharing yet another steamy exchange with Akemi later that night. He couldn’t remember who initiated first, but it must have been the equal desire that they had for each other when they dove straight into a heated makeout session the moment they stepped inside his bedroom. One thing led to another. First he was kissing her lips, then her collarbones, then her inner thighs—devouring her completely with his lust-driven actions, doing the most by pleasuring her body using his own.

She was a giver just as she was a receiver. Not that he didn’t expect her to be so experienced when it came to sex, but she definitely knew what she was doing without any guidance from him. Perhaps he just wasn’t used to it anymore. Perhaps he had just forgotten how it felt to have sex with someone who didn’t rely on him to initiate the next steps they should do. Fuck, he couldn’t even remember the last time someone stared at his eyes while putting his hardened member inside her mouth the way she did. She knew her power over him while at his most vulnerable state, ruining his masculine ego and destroying it with her own feminine pride.

And in the midst of their intimate session, Gojou was zoning out while he was sliding a condom across his shaft, ready to enter her from the back. His mind was giving him a flash of memory, not a distant but recent one from two days ago.

“I still can’t believe you did that, Mom. You’re being ridiculous.”

His mother wasn’t exactly showing the slightest hint of regret on her face despite knowing full well that sending the custody claim almost made you lose your mind. She was keeping a straight face as she sat on the barstool next to him, taking a sip of wine from her glass while he, on his own, was downing a glass of scotch. “She had it coming.”

Satoru sighed his frustration away. “Don’t do that again or today’s the last time you’ll ever see me.”

“What are you talking about?” His mother frowned. “Who was there for you when you were trying to end your own life because of the lies she told you, huh? You’re feeling bad for her now, but did she feel bad for you back then? You missed three years of your son’s life because she was being too spiteful towards you.”

He had never met someone more stubborn than his own mother, but maybe this was a clear sign for Satoru to realize where he must have acquired that one similar trait of his. After all, people always made it seem that he was more like his dad even though he despised being compared to his father. To say that his mother was a complete angel was a lie. But neither was he. “Whatever, just don’t… Just leave Y/N alone. She’s still the mother of my child and I don’t want us to keep fighting. At least, for Sachi’s sake.”

His mother finished her glass of wine before turning the stool towards his direction. There was a minute of silence that passed between them before she spoke again. “I just don’t want you to get back with her, darling. You two are toxic together.”

Funny, because he could say the same thing for her and his father. “Well, it’s not gonna happen now. Y/N’s gonna hate me forever.”

“What, ‘cause she rejected you again?”

“No,” he countered, shaking his head and chugging all the remaining liquor on his glass. “She knows about the thing I have with Akemi now.”

Her mouth fell open, gasping as she did so. “Y-You… and Akemi? Are you together?”

Satoru expected this reaction from her, but didn’t think she would actually be more fixated on his new relationship than the effect it would bring on her ex-daughter-in-law. “It’s not something to be proud of, Mom.”

“Well, I’m proud of you,” she still stressed that fact, “It’s nice to hear that you’re finally moving on, Satoru. Y/N is not good for you, but I know Akemi will be. I like her and I know she’ll make you a lot happier than Y/N ever did.”

“You’re still awake?” Gojou let out a yawn as he felt the heaviness of his eyelids telling him that it was time to sleep. He tried checking the time on his phone, but realized that he still had the photo of you and Sachiro as his lockscreen. He wasn’t planning on changing it anytime soon, but considering that Akemi saw it, he was expecting that she would have something to say, yet nothing came out of her mouth. She simply stayed silent while laying on his chest, letting him touch the slope of her naked back as she slightly raised her head to meet his eyes. He had already closed his phone and placed it back on the nightstand. “What, did I not tire you enough?”

“Shut up.” She hid her reddened cheeks and smiled on the crook of his neck. Her hand was placed on his chest, fingers tracing his collarbones. “No, I’m just thinking about how you’re gonna manage New York and all.”

Satoru’s breathing was still for a few seconds, keeping his eyes glued on the ceiling as he held her on your marital bed. “You’re scared that the infamous cheater is gonna cheat on you or something?” he joked, a distasteful one, but still meant to ease whatever was burdening her mind. “Not gonna happen even if we’re in an open relationship.”

“That’s not it,” Akemi quickly replied, denying his claims, “I’m more like hoping that you’ll be patient with her. She gets angry a lot these days and we know we’re the main cause of it, so please. Please don’t try to argue with her, okay? If she says hurtful things, learn to understand her.”

He wrapped his arms tighter around her smaller frame. Gojou was certain that he was about to doze off soon now that he had closed his eyes and let the exhaustion pull him into a good night’s sleep. “I won’t,” he spoke his words slowly, drifting off to dreamland, “I won’t make her angry.”

“Okay.” He felt her lips kissing his jaw just before the both of them gradually matched the calmness of each other’s chest. One heart, one soul, two bodies. “Good night, ‘Toru.”

…

In the middle of his sleep, he mumbled, “Good night, Y/N.”

On the other side of the city, you woke up in the middle of your slumber, facing the handsome face of your fiancé, Toji Zen’in, who had already drifted off to dreamland while holding you in his muscular arms. No wonder people were jealous of you for having such a refined man like him in your bed every night you go to sleep. The thing was, you had no reason to feel discontented with your life since you already had everything. You were wealthier than the average person, you ran a business that you were passionate about, you had an adorable son who meant the world to you, and you had Toji. There was nothing else you could ask for. And if by remembering Sera’s words back then, you would be selfish to ask for anything more because others didn’t even have half the fortune you had.

So, in that sense, you should be happy.

You had to be happy.

You were happy, right?

“Go to sleep,” whispered a half-awake Toji, stirring from his sleep as he held your waist tighter like you were his comfort pillow. “You alright?”

Sighing inwardly, you traced the scar on his lips. “You’re so gorgeous.”

His lazy, boyish smile came into view. “I know that,” he joked, closing his eyes as if succumbing into a few more minutes of sleep. “Don’t tell me you’re turned on right now ‘cause I can go all night. Doggy. Missionary. Cowboy. Reverse cowboy.”

Were you? Maybe a little. And maybe you had to have a distraction from your ‘source of happiness’.

“That’s very naughty of you, Mr. Zen’in,” you replied, cheeks heating up from his vulgar words. Your hand was finding its way to his toned chest, while his were traveling to the curves of your waist and hips. You could feel him angling his body to make sure he had access to slide your underwear just a little above your knee, gliding his hand along your thigh before letting his fingers touch your sensitive bud. “T-Toji—”

A smirk appeared on his lips. “Hm? I thought you wanted this?”

You nodded, taking a deep breath. “Y-Yeah, I…” There was no use holding back from moaning because his fingers knew how to move perfectly well, playing with your clit in circular motions before sliding two of them into your entrance. “...Fuck.”

“Feel good?” His hot breath tickled your neck, moving his mouth from your collarbones down to the valley between your breasts. “Wish you knew how delicious you are.”

Another moan, much louder this time around, escaped your lips when he attached his mouth onto your breast, sucking the round mass with his tongue doing God’s work. You were so high into sexual desire that your back arched on its own, dominated by the pleasing sensation all over your body. You could barely even respond to him when he started asking why your mood had been so down when he picked you up after work or why you still wouldn’t tell him whatever happened back there.

“It’s nothing,” you replied, disregarding the painful encounter you’ve had with your ex-husband and your best friend. “...Just work stuff.”

As you closed your eyes, you could feel Satoru’s fingers entering deep inside of you, deep enough to have reached your g-spot and have you moaning wildly. It felt unreal. It felt goddamn out of this world. But since Satoru was familiar with every inch of your body, his touch alone could easily send you to seventh heaven. He was heavenly. He was saintly. That mesmerizing gaze of his paired with his sky blue eyes and messy white hair. His beautiful, beautiful face, watching you beg for him to do more. More. More…

“Satoru…”

The intense feeling suddenly stopped, awakening you back to your senses as you opened your eyes and saw the dark, animalistic gaze of Toji Zen’in. “What’d you say?” he asked in a deep voice.

Out of panic, you slightly pulled away and shook your head. “N-Nothing. What did I say?”

“I thought I heard you say his…” he trailed off, pulling his fingers out of you and instead, placing a tight grip on your hip. “Did you?”

“No, no. Not at all.” Your voice came in a hushed tone, looking at his eyes intently. “Why would I do that?”

He let out an exasperated sigh, falling back into the bed with one arm under his head. “Don’t play games with me, Y/N.”

Desperation led you to climb on top of him, sitting on his crotch before encasing your lips with his soft ones. “I’m not,” you mumbled, kissing him again. “I never did. I promise.”

Yet, despite your attempts at inviting him for an open-mouthed kiss, he had already lost the interest to engage in sexual activities with you. He didn’t say anything nor tried to argue about the shit that you said, but he did stay silent for a couple of minutes, simply holding you on top of him without another word to utter. It scared you to think what was going through Toji’s mind, but this was also all your fault. Why, in the first place, did you even let your mind imagine that white-haired toxic ex-husband of yours when you had Toji Zen’in in front you?

Perhaps in this relationship, you were the toxic one.

You were the poison that could kill the life out of the man who only wanted to love and heal you.

“Toji, I’m sorry…”

He held his breath. “Should I be concerned that you’re going on a trip with him?”

“No, it’s…” Pulling away, you gave him a look of combined sincerity and denial. “We’re just gonna fix Sachiro’s papers, you know that. We won’t even be staying in the same room.”

Fixing Sachiro’s papers. Dealing with his dual citizenship. Changing his last name to Gojou. Solidifying your son’s identity as the son of Satoru Gojou. That’s all there is to it. All the technical matters.

“Is he staying at a hotel or are you letting him stay at your apartment in Manhattan?” he asked, although there was no hint of suspicion in his voice. Or at least, he must be good at hiding it.

You chose to be honest. “I have to let him stay at my apartment,” was your answer, leaning your head on his shoulder. “Only because Sachi wants his dad around all the time. We’re just trying our best to co-parent.”

Toji’s dry humor took over. “You sure you’re not gonna let him fuck you senseless?” His tone was laced with resentment. “And then you’ll come home to me crying about how he got you pregnant for the second time. You’d better kiss our marriage goodbye if that happens.”

“What kind of person do you think I am?” you retorted, annoyed by his word of choice as if you were a cheating scumbag. “If he’s gonna get someone pregnant, that won’t be me.”

His eyes sparked with curiosity. “What do you mean?”

Deciding between telling and not telling, you figured that the latter would only cause more drama to bounce back at you like a boomerang. “He’s with Akemi.”

It looked like Toji didn’t hear it right. “Akemi? How’d that happen?”

“I don’t know what kinda relationship they have, okay?” you snapped, no longer wanting to keep up with this topic further. “I just caught them. They said they’re seeing each other, but it’s complicated or whatever—I don’t really give a damn. But he’s with her is all I know.”

Toji went silent for a few minutes, unable to determine whether he should find the situation pitiful or humorous. One thing for sure though, was that he found it unbelievable. “That son of a bitch,” he muttered under his breath, smiling in disbelief, “So this is what’s ruining your mood these days, huh?”

Your eyebrows furrowed in response. “It’s not.”

“Your ex-husband slept with your best friend. Yeah, I’d be mad, too.” His comment wasn’t really meant to irk you, but he successfully did so. Minus the intention. “Getting mad is understandable, getting jealous is questionable. Which one are you?”

Fuck it. “I said I’m not jealous. Will you stop now?” You sunk yourself under the covers, turning your back on Toji. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Now that he knew and you saw his reaction, you wondered what it would be like if Gen and Ian knew. Or if your dad knew. What would they think of Satoru? What would they think of Akemi? No, nevermind that. What would they think of you? Another fool in a deck of cards? Another game that was played with?

You didn’t want to know.

Ideally, you and Satoru really shouldn’t have gone to this New York trip together as if your family was still intact, because as much as you wished that that was true, you were far from that. You were only playing house for the sake of your son, but that also meant putting you in a painfully awkward situation together as ex-spouses. He had a girlfriend back home and you had a loving and loyal fiancé who proved the whole word that he was loyal to you. And although your respective partners were supporting the whole co-parenting situation, you knew by yourselves that this was nowhere to near to being comfortable for them, too.

“Everything okay?” You heard the familiar voice of your past, only to see his dull, blue eyes taking a peek at you.

“Yeah,” you replied, almost inaudibly. You just boarded the plane while Satoru was talking to the pilot, and found your spot on one of the beds in his private jet. It took a few minutes for him to get to where you were now. “Why?”

He shrugged, eyeing a sleepy Sachiro next to you. “Just wanna make sure you and Sachi are comfortable.”

You didn’t know what else to say, so you just looked back at your peaceful son who was hugging his elmo plush like the cute angel he was. Even though he was growing so fast, you could still remember how he was just as small as a puppy in your arms when he was first born. The memory of it caused you to press your lips on his forehead, caressing his soft, white hair. At some point while observing the scene, your son’s father thought it would be a good idea to slide the blanket further up your shoulders, acting as though he was only doing it to keep Sachiro warm. And later, he sat on the reclined airplane seat, drinking the coffee that was served to him by the stewardess.

It was crazy.

Crazy that Toji could be lying next to you and you would feel nothing. But Gojou was meters away from you and your mind was on a never-ending race.

Just before noon, the airplane landed safely at JFK airport and Satoru’s driver took you straight to Central Park Towers, treated like a V.I.P. by security just because your ex-husband was Japan’s third richest person and second most influential businessman. At times like these, you would almost forget the power Satoru held even before he was the chairman. You two were almost royalty. Now that he was leading the Gojou Group, his reputation only grew more despite the scandal of your broken marriage. He knew not to share his relationship publicly anymore nor did he expose Sachiro to any of his social media. It was a mutual decision for you to keep your son away from the spotlight knowing the scrutiny and the lack of privacy that would enter your lives once again—all the unnecessary noise, the unwanted comments, the unruly attention. Besides, for safety reasons, Sachiro had to be hidden from the public since he would become the sole heir to his father’s conglomerate, inheriting his parents combined assets that could one day make him the richest and most sought after bachelor in Japan.

“Mamaaa!” A lively Sachi came running to you as soon as he entered the lobby of the apartment suites, his father following him behind.

“Careful, baby!” you said, standing at the lobby while talking to your housekeeper, “You might trip.”

Satoru decided to carry his son after noticing your worried expression and immediately walked towards you. He was all smiles as he looked at Sachiro’s cheerful blue eyes. “He seems a little excited, isn’t he?”

“He lived here for almost three years,” you answered, signaling a quick ‘thank you’ to your housekeeper before guiding your boys to the elevator. “He must’ve missed the place. Did you, Sachi?”

“Yes, mama~”

It was a little bittersweet for your ex-husband, though. Especially the moment he stepped inside the apartment, looking at every corner and realizing that it was the same place you had lived in back when he was suffering from emotional distress on the other side of the world. This apartment was where his own child grew up in and he had no idea he had even existen then. Not only did that make you a terrible ex-wife, but it also made you a heartless mother. You had separated them and now you were taking him to the place where you had his son hidden from him.

That wasn’t your intention. That was never your intention.

“I’m glad you chose a nice place,” he complimented, acting as casual as possible. “Does your father own this place or?”

“Gen loaned it to me,” you said, holding Sachiro’s hand while letting Satoru follow you closely. You stopped at one of the guest rooms and urged the tall man to feel at home. “You can stay here for the meantime.”

“I don’t wanna make things uncomfortable for Akemi.” He looked away, avoiding your eyes. “I can just stay at a hotel—”

“Dada!” His mini-me tugged at his hand along with yours. You already knew that those puppy eyes would look back at the both of you. “Sachi wants Dada to stay.”

Frankly, you weren’t upset a while ago, but since he had to bring up Akemi and make it seem like her feelings were his priority, you lost all the will to be kind. Was their relationship that deep for him to act like such a loyal, righteous partner? Where was that same loyalty when he married you? “Do whatever.”

Noticing the tension between his parents, Sachiro’s eyes started to well up with tears and that was all it took for you two to completely focus your attention back to your 3-year old.

“Sachi…” Satoru tried to reach for his son, but you (spitefully) beat him to it.

“It’s okay, my baby. Don’t cry,” you comforted your son, picking him up and carrying him in your arms, “Daddy will still visit you every day even if he's staying at a hotel.”

Satoru, as guilty as ever, shook his head and wiped his son’s eyes. “No. I’ll stay here for Sachi, okay? Don’t cry anymore.”

It felt like hours sitting on that enormous sofa, staring at the television screen even though your mind was miles away. You had already texted Toji good night and reassured him that everything was fine, but you still couldn’t stop thinking about what he was doing back home. Sachiro had fallen asleep almost half an hour ago, and how you wished you could also enjoy your slumber while snuggling under those heated blankets, but how could you? How could you be comfortable in the presence of an ex-husband who was coming out of his room, freshly showered in his low-waisted sweatpants and tight-fitting black shirt? Not to mention how he was obviously flexing his arms while drying his mop of messy, white hair with a towel. Ridiculous. A little seductive, but definitely ridiculous.

“Still up?” His sky blue eyes met yours as soon as he looked up.

You adjusted your position on the sofa and leaned on the corner, pulling a small cushion to place above your thighs. “Can’t sleep.”

And the night went on just like that. You, sitting on the couch. Him, sitting on the other end as if going near you might suffocate him. It didn’t help that the silence was beginning to be too uncomfortable. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking of. Perhaps Akemi? Perhaps you? You doubted the latter.

“I think…” You cleared your throat to escape from the awkward tension. “I think I’m gonna go for a night swim. You can go to sleep next to Sachi tonight, just make sure not to wake him up.”

Satoru’s curious gaze trailed on you as you got up and tightened your robe. “It’s a little too late at night to go for a swim, no?”

You couldn’t even face him as you responded. “I need to clear my mind off some things.” And by things, you meant him and this whole mess of a situation that you had put yourselves together. Two divorcees staying in the same living space wasn’t exactly a brilliant idea to begin with.

“Want me to join you?” asked Satoru, and he himself could not believe he asked that question. He may have asked it out of his innate care for you, probably worried for no damn reason. What he didn’t realize was how wrong his suggestion was, especially that you two were dating other people now.

If only you were such a cruel person, how ironic would it be if you allowed Satoru Gojou to join you for a quick night swim?

How ironic would it be for you to feel each other’s warmth under the crystal pool, getting carried away by the romantic lights that lit the city?

How ironic would it be if the intense sexual tension ended with you doing things under the sheets, completely disregarding the fact that the both of you had respective partners who were overthinking this exact NYC trip?

How ironic would it be if, for once in your life, you became the cheater?

Thankfully, you didn’t have the mindset of a cheating person.

However, it was Satoru who took back his initial offer. “Never mind. Forget I even asked that,” he muttered, sounding annoyed more so to himself rather than at you.

You offered a nonchalant shrug. “Okay.”

And as you were heading to the poolside, you could sense Gojou’s presence behind even though he just very clearly rejected the idea of going on a swim with you. He was still the same confusing man that you married before. Only now, he was ten times worse. “Wait, Y/N.”

“What?” You turned around, annoyed at his push-and-pull behavior. At this point, you didn’t really care what he was thinking of anymore. All you did was to take off your robe, leaving yourself with only your underwear on before you slowly got down on the pool.

Gojou, on the other hand, was ridding himself of his shirt and sweatpants to join you in the pool with just his boxers on. What even was this situation? You two had that same question in your head despite swimming at the edge of the pool to stare at the cityscape. “I only asked to join you because I wanted to talk. That’s all.”

You wanted to laugh at how he was clearing his intentions to you.

“Why do you sound defensive around me?” He couldn’t see it, but you were rolling your eyes as you leaned against the pool coping. “I never knew Akemi would be the jealous type.”

Satoru looked surprised by your claim, seeming as though he didn’t recognize the kind of person you were anymore. You were never this unreasonably sarcastic nor acidic with your words during your marriage even at the height of his affair with Sera, yet you had just become the worst version of yourself. “She isn’t,” he muttered, finding his spot next to you, “But I don’t wanna give her a reason to be.”

You huffed. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. You make it sound like I’m gonna make a move on you or something.”

“I never said that.”

“You were thinking about it.”

“Says who?”

What is it about Satoru Gojou that makes him so irritating? Was it the way he talks? The way he thinks he’s always right? The way he acts like he’s such a clean person?

“Please,” you retorted, bitterly. “Toji isn’t comfortable having you around me, either. Just so you know.”

“Can we just—” There. His last string of patience finally snapped and his true colors came to show when he grabbed your wrist and made you face him. The spiteful Satoru. He was back, even just for a second. “Y/N, I’m not trying to argue with you here. I’m trying to talk to you like a civilized person. You’re the mother of my child and I respect you. I’d still care for you and will always protect you, but I want you to at least act like a fucking person around me. You’re a grown woman.”

Wasn’t it bad that he, of all people, was basically telling you to grow up? Memories of your marriage and all the back-and-forth arguments that you had with him flashed before your eyes. He should be the last one to say such a thing. “You’re the one who’s been crossing the fucking line with me since day one, Gojou. Don’t tell me to—”

“And do you wish I had just killed myself for you to forgive me?!” The ridges of his neck became prominent, making his anger much visible now. He was staring down at you intensely, backing you against the edge of the pool, trapping you in between his arms. “I’d have probably done that. But you…You did unforgivable things to me and look how easy it was for me to forgive you.”

You looked away, not trying to have this conversation again. Not trying to have your guilt eat your heart out. Maybe your behavior really had become too much and it was about time you take a step back and realize how ridiculous you had been acting because no way was this man trying to make a better point than you.

“I slept with Akemi, I know. She’s your best friend, I fucking know. But I never did that to get back at you,” his voice bore so much authority in them. “I begged on my knees just to be with you again. Swallowed my pride just for you to be my wife again!” His breathing became ragged. “But you chose to move on. You said you love Toji. You said you’d be happier without me, so why don’t I deserve to be happy without you?”

The inability to speak wasn’t because you were at a loss of words. The problem was choosing the right ones. Words that wouldn’t put you in a disadvantageous position. Words that wouldn’t make you look like an unreasonable person.

“You wished me well when you first found out about Akemi and I. You said you don’t care who I choose to date even if that choice is her,” he said, much calmer this time. He was placing his forehead against yours, body pressed against each other. “If that was true, then why are you still so angry with me?”

Your heart raced as you locked eyes with him. His eyes were the same kind of blue that reflected off of the surface of the pool. Anyone could easily get lost in it, but you knew where to place yourself in order not to. “I’m… not angry…”

“Baby, you and I both know that’s not true,” he said with a serious gaze, lifting your chin with his hand.

But you swatted it away, averting your eyes. “Don’t call me baby. You’re being ridiculous.”

With a loud sigh, Gojou gave up and simply placed his forehead on your shoulder, letting you feel the weight of his head and the warmth of his breath. “If you were still my wife, I’d have kissed you right now,” he declared, breathing heavily as if stopping with all of his will to do what he just said. “I’d touch every inch of you, tell you how much I love you, carry you back into that room, and make more beautiful babies with you…”

“Satoru,” you warned just as he pulled away, smiling despite the sorrow in his eyes.

“…But I won’t do that. I’m not gonna do that,” he claimed and sounded like he was convincing himself rather than clearing it up. “Akemi doesn’t deserve a partner who can’t move on from his ex-wife, so I’m doing my best to forget about you.”

Your breathing took a halt. You weren’t sure where those tiny pricks in your heart came from. Toji needed the same. He deserved a wife who wasn’t pining for her ex-husband. Satoru was just being true.

“Then, forget about me,” you gave a barely audible reply.

Gojou pulled away and kept his distance now, showing that he was indeed trying to stick to his words. “I will.”

Why did it hurt when it shouldn’t have?

“Good.”

He looked at you with eyes that carried a million emotions. But what was most visible was him seeing the light, probably realizing that he truly was doing the right thing and that he was proud of himself for being able to resist you. Because then, that only meant he was only a few steps away from the path of moving on. That if he could let you go, then he could live a better life.

It only made sense why he pulled that little stunt back there—being close enough to you was probably his way of differentiating how his body reacted to you versus how it reacted to Akemi. And now that he was able to determine whatever difference that might be, it would be easier for him to know what exactly to avoid.

After all, you two would be spending the rest of your lives as a present mom and dad to Sachiro. Co-parenting was your only connection and the only way to make that work without falling for each other was to rid yourselves of any kind of attraction towards one another.

Good for him.

“Let’s be good parents, Y/N.” Satoru looked at you from across the pool. “Let’s set a good example for Sachi and show that divorced parents can still be good parents. Let’s not be toxic to each other, especially not in front of him.” His words were coming from his personal experience and as you knew the whole history behind the mess within his family, you were truthfully considerate of his words. His traumatic experiences were what shaped him to become the problematic man you once married, and he was doing his best not to let his own son be the same. “I’ll provide Sachiro with everything he needs and I’ll always be present in his life, so please let me have as much time with him as possible. I’m making up for the three years I lost with him.”

You nodded. “I don’t have a problem with that.

As the established relationship you had with Gojou became more professional and strictly transactional, the distance between you two also grew more and more. There was no longer any space for love and intimacy. There was only familiarity and acquaintanceship.

“Go to sleep soon,” he said without sending another glance your way, climbing out of the pool and reaching for his clothes, “We have a long day tomorrow.”

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru angst #gojo angst #jjk angst

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cuffmeinblack · 9 months

Text

Career Perks

Ominis Gaunt x f!reader (Ominis pov with she/her)

3k words. Accompanying audio.

Summary: Ominis' career leaves little room for excitement or challenge, but his unique brand of legilimency makes for a more interesting job when he finds himself in the company of a lonely witch.

A/n: This is a sort-of sequel to Legilimens where his skill has made him bitter and jaded. Also just random stalking and hunting for shits and giggles I guess.

Ominis enjoyed his job as much as the next wizard, but lately he felt…unchallenged. Most of his clients were small businesses and affluent households who required some extra security on their properties, meaning Ominis would throw up the same wards and shields he did day in, day out, every day. Rarely did he sink his teeth into anything different, a large event or complex case. Whilst the staleness of his chosen career could be somewhat disappointing at times, his job did have certain perks. He'd made his own entertainment over the years, honing other skills amongst the drudgery.

His unique brand of legilimency came in useful, though years of hearing others' thoughts, whether intentionally or not, had made him somewhat jaded. He'd learned early on that most people were liars, the words they uttered in direct contrast to their judgemental thoughts. To his shock, he'd also found that the most common thoughts that seeped into his were of the more amorous kind. With years of practice, he found himself less likely to accidentally probe someone else's mind when concentrating on their voice, but sometimes the lure was too strong to resist dipping his toe into the murky waters of their consciousness.

Ominis had arrived at his most recent client's manor with the intention of keeping his curiosity behind lock and key—it had been causing too much trouble of late. The wizard who had hired him was influential; a politician with a good family name and heaps of ill-gotten gold lining his pockets. He'd paid upfront, requesting the very best magical protection and citing a need to protect his family; from what, he didn't venture, but Ominis had been in this game long enough to make an educated guess that he'd gotten mixed up with the wrong sort. He even wondered whether his dear brother was somehow involved.

The manor was an impressive building with gardens and woodland surrounding it, and very isolated. His smart shoes crunched along the gravel path as he approached, his wand making him aware of the vastness of his surroundings. He'd expected a servant, perhaps a house elf to answer the door when he rang the bell, but instead he was greeted warmly by a woman who's tone and well-spoken manner indicated her status as lady of the household.

"Mr Gaunt, hello. Please come in."

Ominis gave his best smile, the one he knew would charm her and put her at ease. Walking into the hallway, the echo of the hard floor underneath his heels pointed to the grandiosity of the estate. No doubt it was lavishly decorated by the woman standing next to him.

"Thank you," Ominis replied with a dip of his head.

"My husband is away on business but I can direct you to anywhere you need to go," she said sweetly. "Would you like a cup of tea whilst you work?"

Well, he was never one to turn down tea.

"Yes, please. I'll start on the external wards."

She departed, heels clicking and dress swishing, leaving Ominis alone with his thoughts. His wand was already out, so he started the basic defensive spells…Muggle repelling charm…intruder charm… The mundanity was interrupted by the return of his host. The waft of tea hit his nose and he perked up as he noticed the Darjeeling blend amongst the clattering of china.

"Do you not have a house elf?"

"No, I don't agree with keeping a…slave," she replied, somewhat bitterly.

Curious.

"So you take on all of the domestic tasks by yourself? It can't be an easy feat," he replied, gesturing to the house.

"Unfortunately, yes. I never intended for this to be my life."

Ominis suppressed a smirk; that would have been inappropriate, of course. These trapped housewitches were often the product of bad decisions and unhappy marriages. He sipped his tea as he heard her do the same, using the distraction to concentrate on the sound of her gentle slurping. There she was. She had a powerful magical aura, wasted in a place like this. Ominis reached out, finding her thoughts laid bare, ripe for perusing—she clearly hadn't expected his invasion, her guard was down, as they always were.

"Lovely tea," he commented.

"Thank you, I make my own blend."

Of course you do. The thoughts at the forefront of her mind were nothing to do with the beverage, in fact they were nothing short of scandalous. Oh, these housewitches had such lewd fantasies. She knew exactly who he was, and her daydreams reflected her particular wants. The wet slaps that filled his mind and her salacious moans were rather distracting, but Ominis continued to sip his tea and nod along to her occasional commentary. Every whispered command that he uttered in her mind had her keening, and the twitch in his trousers was a very real consequence.

"The wards are done," he said, draining the last of his drink and placing it on the table beside him. "Nobody can get in or out until I lift them. Not you, nor your husband."

The last few words were laced with insinuation, and her fantasy ended abruptly, her thoughts scrambling and fearful.

"Wha-?"

Ominis moved quickly, his body pressing her into the table behind her, hand around her neck as her teacup fell to the floor with a crash of breaking china. Her hand went to her wand, but Ominis had already thrown it to the floor.

"This is what you wanted, wasn't it?" he asked.

"He's going to kill me," her first thought.

"I won't hurt you, not if you do as I say. If you obey me, I'll give you exactly what you want."

"Why…?" she whispered weakly, and Ominis loosened the grip on her throat.

"Because I've heard your thoughts, and I'm most curious…," he whispered into her ear.

She could have used his slackened grip to attempt to break free, but she didn't, only writhed between his body and the furniture behind her. Her pulse pounded against his fingers and warm, hastened breath brushed his cheek, prompting a dark surge of hunger and a throbbing swell of his cock.

"Take me," her second thought.

Ominis cast a silent summoning charm on her wand, tucking it into his unused holster.

"Run."

"Wh-what?"

"You heard me."

The second teacup crashed to the floor as Ominis relented his grasp around her neck and she fell back against the table. She scrambled, and he listened to her frantic footfalls as she ran, her terrified thoughts fading as the connection to her mind broke. She seemed to be unsure just what his intentions were, but the faint flicker of excitement told him all he needed to know about this particular witch.

"Homenum Revelio."

Ominis muttered the incantation, his wand guiding him in her vague direction. He walked quickly, but she really had nowhere to go as long as his charms held. She was fast, always moving along the winding corridors that made up the large manor house. So many bedrooms and drawing rooms, and nowhere to hide.

Ominis concentrated once again on the creak of the floorboards and receding footsteps in front of him until he found her. She was too far away to be able to use his legilimency, but now he'd probed her mind once before, her presence stuck out like a sore thumb—it was almost another sense, like a familiar scent that he could follow. His heart raced as he stalked through the house, adrenaline pumping, providing the excitement that his job couldn't.

"I've heard what you want me to do to you," Ominis called.

No reply.

"Tell me—do you kiss your husband with that mouth? The obscenities that spilled from it shocked even me, and I'm far from chaste."

Ominis threw up more detection charms, getting closer as she slowed—intentionally, he was sure. His ears remained pricked for any movement, when he heard her inhale before shouting an incantation.

"Expelliarmus!"

Ominis shielded himself just in time, her wandless but nevertheless powerful spell glancing off the protective sphere. There was the feisty witch he'd sensed below the delicate façade. A devilish grin crossed his face as she broke into a run again and he followed. The slam and click of a door up ahead echoed through the hallway, and Ominis smirked through heavy breaths. He knocked on the door, the gesture absurd, but it got her attention.

"Leave, and I'll not tell anyone about this."

Ominis pressed his ear against the wood, his fingers sliding around the door knob as he held his wand steady.

"I don't think you want me to leave," he replied, unlocking the door with but a simple unlocking charm.

He'd half expected a barrage of wandless magic aimed at him, but then again he'd half expected not. She was waiting, silently, except the ragged breaths that filled the large room. Ominis kept a shield up, but his wand sensed no danger from the situation.

"Is this your bedroom?" he asked.

"Yes," came her breathy voice.

He dropped his shield and walked towards her, following the sound and reaching out with his mind once again.

"You led me here."

She remained quiet, but she confirmed it for him anyway. Into her mind he delved again, not bothering to be careful or inconspicuous as he waded through her present jumbled thoughts and tore into her memories. He saw every bad decision ever made, the regret and longing of a woman trapped, walking in the shadow of a man utterly undeserving of her.

"You want me to take you here, where your husband sleeps? Of all the rooms in this vast house?" he asked, his fingers finally making contact with her.

She hadn't attempted to conceal the reason she'd stopped running. Knelt at the foot of the bed, she let his hands roam over her lightly-clothed shoulder, the delicate silk blouse leaving every curve free to caress. She gasped as he once again skimmed her neck, his hand continuing its journey to her face. Her lips were plump, and as his thumb brushed against them he felt her warm breath that stuttered as he started to unbuckle his belt.

His digit parted her lips, slipping inside her warm and inviting mouth as she sighed and allowed the invasion. His cock twitched again in anticipation of filling her mouth, his barely disguised arousal springing free from his trousers as the last of the fastenings fell away.

"Open your mouth for me, darling," Ominis whispered.

She did as she was told, her hands tentatively gripping his thighs as Ominis felt her jaw slacken against his fingers. He muttered a praise as he lined himself up with her inviting lips, pushing the tip of his cock inside her waiting mouth. Perfect. Her tongue eagerly met him with a swirl around his head and he groaned, lacing his fingers through her soft hair that he just now realised hung loose and smelled pleasantly of vanilla.

He tightened his grip as she took more of him, guiding her head with a rhythm that sent his head spinning. Though muffled, her moans filled his ears amongst the sounds of her exuberant sucking. She felt fantastic, a little sloppy perhaps, but she more than made up for it with her enthusiasm. Whether or not the enthusiasm was genuine or a product of his threat, he didn't much care.

Ominis sighed softly as her head bobbed back and forth, deciding to move along to what she'd really wanted from him. He pulled her hair back a little harder than was necessary, her mouth popping off his length and causing a yelp of pain. A rush of affirmation flooded her thoughts, spilling into Ominis' as his control over his legilimency weakened, and he smirked down at her before lowering his head to meet her in a greedy kiss. Her tongue met his, firm and demanding, the taste of tea still lingering.

"Such a lovely mouth," Ominis praised as they parted, relinquishing the hold on her hair. "Now, strip."

"What are you going to do?" she asked shakily over the rustle of fabric.

"Exactly what you wanted of me the moment I stepped through that door."

Ominis stroked her face gently as she undressed, and when she wriggled out of her underwear he got to work on ridding himself of his own bottoms. His pulse raced and cock throbbed with need, desperately wanting to hear her keening again, flooding his ears and not just his mind.

"How do I compare to your filthy thoughts?" he asked, pushing her back onto the bed.

"You're…better. Much better," she sighed.

He positioned himself between her legs, running his hands over her soft skin pricked with goosebumps and towards his prize. She was already squirming by the time he pressed his fingers to her entrance, dipping a digit inside the well of slick arousal.

"Such a naughty witch."

She whimpered, her walls fluttering around his finger, pulling an amused chuckle from his throat. Retreating slightly, he dragged his finger between her folds and found her swollen clit, eliciting another pathetic whine as he began rubbing circles around the nub.

"You really are so needy," Ominis chided. "How long since you've been touched?"

"A while," she replied meekly. "Fuck…"

"There's that filthy mouth I've heard."

Ominis moved his hand faster, listening to her sweet moans as his hips instinctively rocked, his erection rubbing on the bed sheet and providing barely enough relief. He couldn't control his urges forever, and his patience was wearing thinner by the second, no matter how lovely the noises she made. His fingers left her clit to a protesting whine, delving back into her soaking wet entrance.

"P-please don't stop."

"Ah, no, I'm afraid your fantasies were quite specific about how you wanted to come undone."

Ominis pumped his hand, rougher than was needed as his lust threatened to overcome his waning self restraint. Once he slipped a third finger inside her, he knelt up on the mattress before withdrawing his hand and dragging her along the sheets by her thighs towards him.

"Shit!"

He was frenzied, rock hard and aching for her cunt. With no more than a flick over her clit with the tip of his cock as warning, he pushed inside her to the sound of her wails and the sting of nails scraping down his back. Ominis growled his feigned disapproval, seating himself deep inside her as his head dipped to the crook of her neck and kissed up towards her ear. He started thrusting, and his breath almost deserted him.

She felt incredible, as if she were made for him, and the way she gripped him felt as if she were clinging onto him with the intention of never letting go. Ominis moaned and muttered praises in her ear as a string of expletives dripped from her lips with every roll of his hips.

"Harder, fuck!"

"So needy," Ominis said, though what left his mouth was a high pitched hiss that made her wail and scream his name.

That's what she'd wanted, in her sick little fantasy of being ruined by the heir of Slytherin. Not a particularly inventive one, but he was happy to indulge when the product was such a beautiful cacophony of moans. He continued whispering parseltongue against her neck as he attacked her skin with his teeth and hands groped greedily at every soft handful of flesh he could reach. Her curves were truly delicious, and the smack he delivered to her backside as she drew her legs up reverberated around the huge room and only spurred him on. Faster and harder he fucked her, until she was practically hysterical.

The way she gripped his cock, he knew she was close and his own release was imminent. His arms shook as he lifted himself, kneeling above her and gripping her waist to pull her down deeper onto his cock. Ominis moaned as the tension built to unbearable levels, still continuing to pound into her relentlessly in the new position.

"Oh shit…oh fuck…"

She could only manage garbled words and to dig her fingers painfully into his thighs as her body turned limp. Ominis placed a hand on her abdomen, groaning as he felt his cock hitting her deep under his palm.

"Come for me," Ominis hissed, unable to hold back his own release any longer.

He wasn't sure who succumbed first, but as Ominis let his load spill inside her, he felt her contract around his length, teasing out ropes of cum with every pulse of her orgasm. They sighed and moaned together, his thrusts slowing and eventually dying as they came off their highs and the pleasure made way for the realisation of what had occurred.

Ominis' face fell back into neutrality, pulling his flaccid cock from her with a squelch. He worked quickly, scooping up his wand and cleaning the mess before redressing and throwing her wand from his holster into the bed.

"Was that okay?" she spluttered.

He almost laughed, that she were so eager to secure his approval after what he'd put her through.

"Get showered and dressed. I'll wait."

She mumbled something incoherent but slid off the bed and padded to the ensuite bathroom. Ominis heard the lock of the door and running water, only just disguising the soft sobs emanating from the room. He had no time to fuss over her emotional wellbeing, he had work to do—with careful and deliberate flicks of his wand, he removed the wards that trapped her in the house, recasting the protective enchantments just as he'd been requested to do. He even made the bed.

By the time she'd returned to the bedroom, he told her to dry her hair and make sure she was properly presented, not using the exact words to ask her to stop crying. In silence he led her back to the hallway where the shattered teacups lay, fixed with a simple Reparo. There could be nothing left out of the ordinary.

"What should we do now…," she directed towards him, unease in her voice.

She was panicking. Ominis didn't give her time to finish her sentence, pointing his wand at her and twisting his wrist slowly in the air.

"Obliviate."

#ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt fanfiction #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis gaunt smut #ominis gaunt x oc

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hollyhomburg · 1 year

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Before I Leave You (Pt. 53)

(Sneak Peek)(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: A snippet of the future- a flash forward- in which you and jimin reach an...agreement.

Tags: pleasure dom Jimin, pillow princess m/c, oral (f. receiving), fingering, knotting, talks of gender and sex, Talks of killing people, talking ill of the dead, assassin! jimin, implied autistic! jimin, Flash Forwards, intentionally vague moments

W/c: 7.770

A/n: please be patient with me regarding the rut chapter ie the chapter after this one! i’m visiting my brother next week in LA so!!! things will take some time. hopefully this little jimin nugget will tide you over. although this isn’t the most unique sex chapter i do really like it. in the meantime! recommend me some stuff to do in la! i’m hoping it’s going to be a restful trip but ngl...it’s not looking great.... i don’t like planning things that other people are going to potentially not enjoy 😠 i’m meant to be a passenger princess threw and threw

Previous Chapter - Masterlist

Chapter 53: I’d do Worse (Sneak Peak)

Jimin promptly takes one of the tubes of paint, a light blue- the same light blue that you ended up painting the upstairs bathroom, and squishes it out onto the canvas below you. Near your hand but not on it.

The breath you were holding rushes out in a single jagged laugh, “Okay, now I’m lost- I thought the whole point of the plastic and drop cloths was not to get paint on them.”

The look he shoots you asks you to suspend your disbelief. Especially once he starts doing that to all the other colors. He continues to drop careful splotches of paint around you. Enough that it would take a lot of concentration to get out of the room without tracking dark blue or pink or yellow or red halfway across the house.

You wonder what exactly Jimin plans to do to you. Paint included. He puts out a spurt of yellow paint on your side and then another.

Surely sooner rather than later, noodle is going to wander in here in search of a pool of sunlight, track his paws or tail through the paint, and leave pawprints everywhere throughout the house. Yoongi will probably complain about them, but you might make him keep them instead of washing them away.

When he’s finished, Jimin turns a yellow tube over in his hands. Back and forth, the cap flashing like a rising and setting small yellow sun. jimin’s voice is low when he speaks, near reverent. “You’re the first woman I was ever with- that I ever knew I was with.”

It’s an admission and an admonishment, one that you and the rest of your pack have been tiptoeing around. Even though Tae’s a woman now- she hadn’t always been- at least not in a way the pack could compensate for. While new lines in the sand are drawn that doesn’t mean the old lines totally fade away. It will take a few more cycles of low and high tide to completely grow used to this.

Jimin fiddles with a small red tube of paint. “I’m a rigid person, I know I am. i don’t like change most of the time and I know, I know things shouldn’t be so planned, I know that’s not the way things usually go but-” You nuzzle close to Jimin, and his words extinguish into a sigh, his hands coming up to your sides, the same place he always likes to hold, between your shoulder blade and your ribcage.

“But you need them to be this way sometimes. Planned? so you can make sure everything’s done right” You press.

He bristles, “If you’re expecting me not to say that I want everything to be perfect when I can make it that way then-”

“You’re such a control freak Minnie.” you say it with a smile, playing your fingers through some of the milky pink white, feeling the tackiness between your fingers.

“You don’t hate it?”

You shrug. “Jin’s that way too sometimes. So no, I guess I don’t hate it. Maybe it’s just because I like- really fucking hate making decisions.”

He grimaces, but Jimin’s eyes dart from your face down to your crossed legs. settling on something. “Do you care if those clothes get dirty?”

“A little- I like these shorts.”

“then you should take them off.” your heart thuds as jimin leans over you, tugging on the strap of your Tanktop with his teeth, lips pressed to the bare skin of your shoulder, dragging them down. He plays at being sexy but decides not to be, settling for leaning his cheek on your shoulder and watching you.

“I had kind of this stupid idea, if you don’t want to do it just say so. This is every shade of pink that we ever painted the house. Tae’s favorite color is pink- and the canvas- i thought it might be nice to have like- some art in her library room- that’s what I meant about making it planned.”

“Are you saying you want to make sex art or something?” Jimin blushes yet again. You should be keeping track of how many times he has and use them for leverage.

“You know gift giving is like, my second love language if that bullshit is to be believed and-”

“-Oh my god you actually do want to make sex art.”

Coming Saturday May 6th at 5pm EST (Time Zone Adjustments Below)

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etherealcheol-mp3 · 9 months

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White Carnations, Red Roses (and other perfumed words I hide behind) [TEASER]

Pairing: Seungcheol x reader (ft other svt members)

Genre/warnings: fluff, humor, sorta enemies to lovers, misunderstandings, flower shop owner!Y/N, landord!Seungcheol, tags will be updated later on when the actual fic is completed

Word count: TBD

Summary: You were just starting to foolishly believe that your move to a new city wasn't as bad as people had told you it would be. You had your best friend as your roommate, your new flower shop was running relatively smoothly after the grand opening, and everyone you had met so far had been nothing but kind to you. And then you met Choi Seungcheol.

A/N: i hate writing summaries oh god i promise this fic won't be as bad at the summary makes it sound...anyway !! hi ! new fic on this blog that i haven't really touched in a l o n g time. hopefully, i don't give up on this fic and get back to writing like before but these are just simply baby steps for me so we'll see how this goes. please let me know what you think and if you'd be interested in reading this fic because i could use the motivation lmao. other than that, thank you for reading this and cheers to new beginnings !!

Perfumed Words (floriography) - "Once a form of clandestine communication, the language of flowers was a silent dialogue — an unspoken way to converse with friends, lovers..."

Flowers are said to represent many different things. On a basic level, they can express love, happiness, gratitude, condolences, congratulations, well wishes, and more. To those who look a little deeper, each flower has its own unique meaning and representation. It’s these more intricate meanings that make owning a flower shop so fun to Y/N. People will come in every day searching for flowers to fit a multitude of occasions and only deem the ‘prettiest’ ones worthy of their money, not at all aware that the bouquet they just purchased for an anniversary is full of flowers that represent rejection, foolishness, and ill-nature. Of course, there are the people that want to hear all about flower meanings and how to best express their desired message, but after moving to a bigger, more urban city in order to expand the once small flower shop owned in your hometown, the amount of patience customers seemed to have to hear about the symbolism of the flowers they picked had greatly lessened.

You grunted softly, dropping the large bag of potting soil on the ground. The new shop had only been open for about two weeks but there was still a desperate need for organization in the back areas, hidden from the view of customers. “That was all of them right?” Chan asks as he pants lightly, leaning his side against the wall of the storage room. Chan was one of your only part-timers and a lifelong best friend. Growing up next door to one another in a neighborhood full of teenagers and newborns almost guaranteed a solid friendship as you were the only two kids around the same age who also went to the same school. Chan had helped you learn to ride a bike and you had cried while playing hide and seek one time since it had been close to an hour and you hadn’t found him. As you got older, you stayed close and Chan was one of the biggest supporters in your life when you decided you wanted to open your own flower shop.

You laughed breathily at the boy next to you who was now dramatically trying to check his pulse. You push his shoulder gently as you move to walk back out to the front of the store. “I bet you regret saying you would go to university in the city now, huh?” Chan snorts at that, wrapping his arms tightly around you from behind to trap you in a bone-crushing hug, rubbing the side of his face against yours for good measure. You try to escape but he only holds you tighter, earning a loud groan from you, “Why would I regret moving with my bestest friend in the world? School has nothing to do with my undying loyalty to you,” You can’t help but laugh at that, finally freeing yourself from his arms and turning to face him. “Cut the shit, Lee Chan, we both know you’re only here because I have an extra bedroom in my apartment and could give you a job.” His shit-eating grin doesn’t falter as he extends his arms out for another hug, “Exactly what I said! Undying loyalty!”

You roll your eyes but can’t hide the smile on your face. “Yeah, yeah. Why don’t you show me that undying loyalty of yours by watering the plants in the greenhouse for me,” You smile sweetly while pushing a water spritzer into his chest. The way the smile on his face drops at your words makes you laugh lightly. He grumbles a bit but grabs the tools he needed and heads to the back door, raising his middle finger without turning back as you call out a sweet ‘Thank you!’. Chan was younger than you by a few years and the time for him to start university just so happened to overlay the time you decided to move the location of your shop for a much-needed expansion. You were lucky the area you settled on wasn’t too far from where you currently lived and Chan was even luckier that his dream school wasn’t far either. The small commercial strip you found with a space for rent seemed too good to be true at first. The area was popular and well developed with a large variety of stores surrounding yours. So far all the owners you had met were friendly and welcoming too.

You were almost immediately invited to game night by the owner of the coin karaoke, Soonyoung, who was two shops down from yours, and the manager of his place, Seokmin, looked as if he would cry if you declined the offer. When you agreed and met up with them later that night you met the co-owners of the souvenir shop across the street, Jeonghan, and Joshua, and Chan hit it off with the part-timer of the record shop who everyone called Vernon. The two found out they were both attending the same university in the upcoming semester starting in just a few weeks and you felt relief that Chan wouldn’t be completely on his own.

Everyone seemed to get along with one another and you were excited to slowly start joining the group for future get-togethers. The one person you couldn’t seem to get a clear read on was the landlord and property owner of the shops. You had met briefly twice: when you expressed interest in the vacant lot and when you signed your lease. Seungcheol was his name, and he always seemed to be in a rush whenever you met him, always leaving as quickly as possible with a tight smile and tired eyes. He was around the same age as you and the other shop owners and you assumed for a guy in charge of so many tenants he was just understandably busy.

You were mindlessly sweeping behind the check-out counter in the front of your store when the small chime of the bell above the front door drew your attention. You called out over your shoulder without fully turning to face the person, “Hi, I’m sorry but we’re closed for the day,” resting the broom against the wall, you brushed your hands off on your green apron and turned around to give the person your full attention. “I can’t even come in to see how you’re settling in?” The question catches you off guard, as does the presence of Seungcheol lightly stroking the petal of one of the white carnations on display. He looks up at you after a bit, cocking his brow slightly with a warm smile. He looks relaxed today, not as rushed and fidgety as your prior encounters, and the tan short-sleeved shirt he’s wearing hugs his previously hidden biceps wonderfully.

You blink once, then twice before you let out a soft, “Oh.” Seungcheol moves his hand from the delicate petals and crosses his arms over his chest while turning to face you fully. “I didn’t know you’d uh, didn’t know you would stop by…today,” You don’t know why you feel so nervous under the man's gaze but the light chuckle that leaves him makes you feel weak in the knees. He begins to walk up to the counter you’re still standing behind and you feel your eyes widen slightly. “I like to surprise my tenants every once in a while. Make sure they’re getting their money’s worth from their rent.” You nod slightly at that, looking down at the counter between the two of you to avoid his gaze. “Oh, yeah. That makes sense, I mean you-” he cuts you off with a gentle yet firm tone. “I also make sure they’re following the rules. They’re very strict here.”

Your head snaps up to meet his. His face looks serious and you can’t help but furrow your brows at his words. “Rules?’ You question quietly. He nods and his face holds the same serious expression as before. “This is a strictly business-only zone during operating hours. We can all be friends and whatever else when stores are closed but outside of that it’s rivalry and competition only.” You tilt your head in utter confusion and let out a “What?” that ends up being the loudest and most stable word you’ve spoken to him so far. The corner of his lips twitches just slightly upwards at that before he continues. “Every month rent is due, this isn’t news,” You narrow your eyes as he speaks, unsure if you’re going to like where this goes, “However, the shop with the highest sales for the month gets a benefit.” You raise an eyebrow at his vague explanation and cross your arms over your chest. “What does that have to do with rent, or being friendly with one another during business hours?”

Seungcheol sighs with a shake of his head, pushing his hands into the pockets of his jeans before meeting your eyes with a look of amusement. “Let’s just say the benefit is good enough that some good old-fashioned business rivalry and...sabotage, I guess you could say, is perfectly normal. If you don’t want to see your little flowers cut up or your water supply blocked then I would suggest you stick to the rules.” You let out a scoff of disbelief as he finishes. “I find it really hard to believe any of the people I’ve met so far would do anything like that, and I also find it insane that you would even allow it if it ever did.”

Seungcheol smiles at your words, enjoying the anger he can see beginning to grow. He leans over the counter slightly to get even closer to you before he speaks lowly, “You don’t know me or anyone else here like you might think you do. I really hope you’ll be able to last long enough to do that, but from what I see, you and your little flowers won’t make it to Christmas. It’s not like your sales would help you anyway.” You glare at him and clench your jaw at his words. You’re stuck in a trance of anger and disbelief and don’t even realize he’s walked away and out the front door until you hear the light chime from the bell once again. You’re unable to move as you replay the scene again and again in your head, only being brought back by Chan dramatically exclaiming his relief at once again being in a building with air conditioning. He sees your rigid stance and feels his eyes widen at the expression on your face.

“Y/N…are you good?” He asks hesitantly, unsure of what he missed while he was out. “I’m good,” you let out a deep breath as you meet his eyes, “I just need to go pick up a few things.” Chan looks confused as you walk past him to the back office space and grab your things, ready to leave. “What things?” He asks, following behind you and quickly ridding himself of his matching green apron as you quickly walk to the front door, flipping the open sign to display ‘Closed’. “Just some things to help me prove an asshole wrong,” You speak casually with a smile that Chan recognizes all too well. “Shaving cream or duct tape?” He asks in slight fear of the answer, letting out a sigh of disdain at the answer. “Lemons.”

“Oh fuck.”

#csc.mp3 #toro writes #seventeen #svt fluff #seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #scoups fluff #seungcheol fluff #seungcheol x reader #scoups x reader #svt x reader #svt imagines #seventeen imagines #scoups #seungcheol

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gettinshiggywithit · 1 year

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!Dating Tenya Iida HCs!

Scenario:-what would dating tenya iida be like?

Pairing:-Iida x gn!Reader

Genre:- fluff

Type:-headcanons

A/N:- for @tooloudarts I hope u like it bestie!

{look for the moot mayham masterlist in the fanfics masteistlink for the rest of the requests!}

Dating tenya is kinda different

Not in a bad way ofc

Hes just kinda awkward at first!

You two had been besties for your 1st and 2nd years and you could definitely say you’d grown close as close could be

Seeing tenya without you and vice versa was always a little odd.

And everyone could tell that you had a thing for eachother!

So in your 3rd year,you bit the bullet,thanks to courage bestowed upon you by denki sero and mina, and asked him out on a date.

And later that day he asked you to be his s/o!

He was sweating bullets lemme tell ya! And although ppl woulda thought yall went from 0-100 REAL Fast,you knew that goin thru the talkin phase would be kinda stupid,especially when you already knew everything abt eachother!

Datee nights are always perfect.thoughtful and well executed

This man is basically the kunikida of MHA he has a plan for almost anything and mann will he execute it to a T!

Iida isnt really big on pda but if he knows you are ,he tries his best to be okay with it.if you initiate it hes mostly okay but he wouldn’t really do anything other than a little hand squeeze on his own.

The iida family aren’t particularly judgy or concerned about your family back ground(they know that if someone managed to make tenya fall in love,really in love,they were the right choice) but they were however adamant on the fact that he treat you right

Tensei himself gave tenya a good talking to the day they had you over for dinner,and even though you were having a nice chat with his mum,you caught a few words of tenseis lecture.

When it comes to gifts they arent really big or flashy. Flowers he saw out in the school garden or just little things that remind you of him are his little gifts to you

Tiny trinkets that mean a lot!

And if anyone ever even triesss to mess with you,this man will defeat them WITH THE POWER OF LOGIC AND FACTS HE WILL REASON UNTIL HE HAS DEFENDED YOUR HONOUR!

And honestly it gets you kinda flustered to see him so worked up,you had the situation under control but he really wanted to help you,so you just watched from the sidelines as his hand kept cutting through the air as he made his point,and I think we all know he wan that argument 😎

Dating tenya iida is a unique experience and honestly he makes your life just a little bit sweeter just by being HIM.

please dont repost my work here as your own on any platform all rights belong to me except that of the characters used,their right belong to their respective owners.but these stories? mine.

feedback,likes,reblogs and comments are so very appreciated tbh :’)i hope you enjoyed and ill catch ya next time!

Comments & Reblogs w/ tags >>>>>>>>>>>likes please

Taglist open for anyone interested!

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emmetofthestars · 3 months

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Yes please!! A summary would be greatly appreciated!! An thanku for the helpful tag,, will be looking forward to a tag for yer blu team if you make one!

ive gone ahead and tagged (most) of my blu art under #emmetsis blu!

i also totally forgot that i have a carrd for my blu team and for two extra ocs... but because its rather empty it makes more sense i write something new. the carrd does have pronouns though.

to be more general first, blu team are my blu merc ocs and they are all clones of red team. along the way of cloning and growing they gained their unique personalities. so while they are clones, they are by now completely different people. as a result of respawn machines being a thing in my story, they all generally do not take death seriously as there are no real consequences to it, aswell as the existance of their medic. i think this is a bit of an important thing to add.

jay is the teams scout. not loud and brash at all, unlike red scout. shes not very enthusiastic about the war and she sees no use in it all. shes a close friend with crawford, and they both hang out and skip out on work. the two of them rarely go places without eachother. she likes lemon soda and sour tastes in general :3

carl is the soldier. unlike his red counterpart he is not confident or headstrong. he fears alot of things from small animals to the outside, aswell as people. he keeps his helmet on desperately as light hurts his eyes to the point of headaches. he always gets alot of scrutiny from charon. while there are sufficient bedrooms at blu base, he instead lives in a windowless storage room, in a sort of pillow-blanket fort.

gary is the pyro. bearing no lick of red pyros bloodlust and arsonist nature, gary does not fight. though they know how to fight back, they do not like seeing people in pain and will never attack first. while they arent an arsonist, they love water to almost a similar destructive degree. they would flood their bedroom to the brim with water, if they could. they like to sit at the bottom of lakes.

achilles is the demo. she does not dabble in explosives, but rather swords. he has a fascination with books in general and books about mythology of all sorts, peculiarly achilles of greek mythology, which they named themselves after. also has a particular fascination with cutting peoples heads off, but not out of malice, just out of pure love to his sword and shield, his half-zatoichi and splendid screen. she thinks shes pretty awesome.

daisy is the heavy. he has the same protective nature over people, and though he looks like a big softie he will not hesitate to strike if he recognizes a threat. but when somebody he trusts hurts him, its hard for him to let go. tries to learn how to knit and anything adjacent. when not, just likes to talk to people or take walks. he does not carry a minigun, he sticks to his shotgun and melee.

minnie is the engie. minnie is minnie. minnie builds mini sentries. sometimes teleporters. rarely dispensers. but mostly mini sentries. minnie can say four words: mini, sentry, teleporter, and dispenser. anything else? tough luck. even then, minnie does not speak enough times for anyone to remember what it sounds like.

charon is the medic. whatever inner issues red medic had manifest strangely in charon. not a very good medic- they dont respond to their teammates cries, charging into battle on their own with secondary and melee. they are extremely (hypo)critical and aggressive, and they get physical fast. however, when they are done screaming about whatever it is that their team has done wrong THIS time, they regret what they did, silently berating themselves. and the very next day, they would scream again, and regret it again. the day after that, and after that. they dont talk to anyone at length, not even achilles. they dont apologize, as they have no faith left in themself.

crawford is the sniper. (ill most often refer to him as crow.) unknowingly a drunkard- she doesnt actually know what alcohol is, just finds it tasty. he is as loving of the outdoors as his red counterpart, particularly of heights. she will climb any high building or abandoned pylon, with no regard to safety or her own life, just to feel the wind in her face. would also eat most foods if hes curious, even something such as pure raw meat- he is not aware that meat needs to be cooked. also a literal night owl. she sleeps at day and is wide awake at night.

iris is the spy. though she does her job as best she can, he is in no way as tenacious as red spy. he rarely disguises, and resorts instead to cloaking with the cloak & dagger. the pressure of their job gets to them, they are hardly energetic and often cant even find the energy to hold long conversations with people, or even say anything - the most she will do is approach people to ask them a technical question, then leave. and as a result of an "incident" with the red medic... its only worsened since then.

wow this was a long one..... i love infodumping.... :) some of this is POSSIBLY bound to change but in general their roles are pretty set in stone. i am still actively writing them though.

#emmet answers #emmetsis blu

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cobalt-knave · 3 months

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Whump Fic Recs pt. 1 (& a brief love letter and tagging tutorial)

Ah, whump, my most beloved genre of fanfiction. What is whump? Whump refers to stories prominently featuring injury or sickness and/or the care and recovery thereof. This is most often in the hurt/comfort category or the hurt no comfort category. It is a wonderful opportunity to shake up dynamics and reveal hidden character depths in a high stress situation. What do you do when the strong one is hurt? How does that call into question your feelings towards them? How does that call into question their feelings towards themself and their role? Who will care for the one who always caretakes? It’s a great tonal shift too. Just *chef’s kiss*. Plus, you know what? It’s sometimes just fun to run your favorite characters through the plinko.

How do you tag whump and why should you? The tags on ao3 to use are”

“Whump” (not just “whumptober” or “whumptober 2022″ or other variations),

“hurt/comfort” or “hurt no comfort”

“angst”

“sickfic” if illness is the featured whump

“injury recovery” if such a thing is covered

“torture”, “car accidents”, “broken bones”, “blood and injury”, “blood and violence”, etc as relevant (start typing into the additional tags section to see what the common tag is to use.

“Character Name Whump” or “Hurt Character Name” if in a specific fandom whumping a specific character

all of the previous should be used in addition to the base whump tag.

if relevant, use the archive warning “graphic depictions of violence”

why tag? BECAUSE I WANNA READ IT AND FIND IT AND IT IS WOEFULLY UNDERTAGGED. It is also good to tag if someone wants to avoid it by excluding it from the search.

Alright. On to the recs. Multifandom including The Mechanisms, The Magnus Archives, King Falls AM, The Adventure Zone, Our Flag Means Death, The Murderbot Diaries, and Stargate SG-1. There will be more whump recs to come.

On Account Of The Jonny Doll by NammiKisulora

Fandom: The Mechanisms

Ah, NammiKisulora knows how to make these immortals hurt in such twisted and unique ways.

“Yeah. Get in, will you? I want to get going. Jonny keeps waking up. W-without skin.” “Oh Yes! That Must Be On Account Of The Jonny Doll!”

Jonny is executed, which is a normal enough occurrence. It’s only afterwards things go wrong.

We Still Have the Radio - I. and We Still Have the Radio - II. by luckjustkissedyouhello

Fandom: King Falls AM

luckjustkissedyouhello writes some damn good, damn brutal whump!

The next thing he’s aware of is water against his face, wait no, all of him, where he lays on his left side. Water that is rapidly rising. He lays there dazed. Then a groan above his head has him jerking back into the moment, fear lancing through him, stealing his breath. Ben.

In which Ben and Sammy are in a car accident.

bleeding by Athina_Blaine

Fandom: The Magnus Archives

Martin goes and gets himself stabbed. It's inconvenient.

Re-Initialization by CompletelyDifferent

Fandom: The Murderbot Diaries

This Unit: Where is my owner, Dr. Mensah?

Dr. Yuen: Well, that’s the million dollar question, isn’t it? SecUnit, where did you last physically interact with Dr. Ayda Mensah?

Information Retrieval: Dr. Ayda Mensah last interacted with This Unit on Preservation Station at 08:27:22 on 4098-09-17 CRST.

This Unit: You do not have permission to access that information.

Dr. Yuen: You’re incorrect, SecUnit. We do. Answer the question.

(When the infamous rogue SecUnit of the Preservation Alliance gets captured, the corporate techs assigned to it expected to be able to get some juicy data, or at least some insights into its cracked governor module. They didn't expect something so... basic.)

trust me by gaysidecharacter

Fandom: The Adventure Zone: Balance

Everyone gets real sick and Lup is having a time.

Not an echo even by Hopeful_Foolx

Fandom: The Magnus Archives

They stop the Unknowing. There is an explosion. And trapped under rubble and panic, Jon wakes up. So does Tim. Three prompts, one story. Starting with Day 4 - Running out of Time

Friends in Strange Places by beesandcats

Fandom: Our Flag Means Death

"Steel in your side for so long was a weird feeling, Stede decided. It had actually been around hour six that he came to the conclusion, if anyone was keeping track. It had been around hour three, when he heard the snores from the other side of the deck, that he realized he should perhaps try to be friends with the steel in his side. Obviously, they were not friends."

A missing scene from Season 1, Episode 6. Stede's been stabbed and stuck to a pole all night. He's gonna need some help when everyone wakes up for the day.

Things Stay the Same by teyla

Fandom: King Falls AM

During blizzard season, Ben and Sammy, each for their own reasons, make an unwise choice. The experience that ensues should be life changing—though is it?

In which there is a snowstorm, an accident, a soaked through jacket, and thoughts of revealing secrets.

Lifestock by NammiKisulora

Fandom: The Mechanisms

"Guys, you get what this means? It means fresh meat, every day for as long as we like." "The fuck are you talking about?" "Just sayin' we could leave his leg attached, tie him up, and bring him along. Carve off what we like at mealtimes instead. We dunno how long we've got to lie low for."

Tim is held captive for food after a battle.

Between A Rock And A Hard Place by Sam Walker

Fandom: Stargate SG-1

To save Daniel’s life, Jack has to do that hardest of all things: talk.

This fic is written from Jack's perspective. Daniel is involved in an accident off-world and the only thing Jack can do to help is talk to Daniel while everyone else works. I love this fic for the interaction between Jack and Daniel, and for the insights into Jack's motivations. Despite being mostly Jack and Daniel, you get a sense of camaraderie about SG1 and you can see just how much Jack cares about his team.

And if you read any of these, be sure to leave kind comments for the authors!

#fic rec #fic recs #the mechanisms #tma #kfam #stargate sg1 #ofmd #taz balance #murderbot #whump

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wetthandss · 4 months

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any mutuals wanna join my pathfinder 2nd edition game soon?

i already have one mutual who was interested and my best friend, so there's two and i want a minimum of 4.

would be voiced, possibly using roll20 (i hate it but i havent looked into better free VTTs) although only for maps everything else is on paper, all over discord in a group chat.

schedule would be irregular, finding times that were all available to play whenever we want to rather than trying to find the miracle of a consistent schedule between 5 people. would shoot for minimum 1 hour, maximum 3.

there will be darker themes and gore/body horror.

im willing to teach the game to newbies, i dont know it too well myself, ive only been running it for a little under two years.

im hoping 2 make new friends through this as well if u want ^w^

dm me n ill get back to u not everyone who messages will get in

Here's the pitch:

You've committed a great crime in your homeland. As punishment, you have been sent to the island of Hendir. Hendir used to be a place with great many people, and powerful civilizations. But eventually, something happened and the island was split in two. Its people and its history was lost. The island was rediscovered centuries later, along with its dangers. It was the perfect place for a Penal Colony. Penal Colony #4, or as its few inhabitants call it, Gwaelod, is placed on the shores of the centre of the island, a relatively small and relatively safe circle of land that somehow was spared from whatever split the rest. Criminals have a diverse set of skills, and a few people survive in Gwaelod, those who have lost hope in escape. You just got here, you haven't yet lost hope. You must somehow get off the isolated island in the middle of tempestuous sea.

im also gonna queue this post to reblog a few times over the next week or so so sorry if ur seeing this for the whateverth time, if you dont wanna see it anymore i have supplied a unique tag code that you can add to your blocklist to avoid this specific post. :3

#uniquetag:9942281957740283444

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rebelrebelwrites · 1 year

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Fic Friday! ❤️ Rebel’s Weekly Fic Recs

~ Haladriel Week Edition (Part 1) ~

Aiight y'all, I took a week off and you DELIVERED the @haladrielweek GOODS. Like, DAMN. Rest assured, I'll be recc'ing stuff from Haladriel Week for many weeks to come; I'm still getting caught up on devouring all of your amazing fics, artwork, Tumblr and Twitter posts, and more! Thanks again to @formerlyir for putting this whole shindig together and all of you for your amazing contributions.

Without further ado—as always, this week's recs are...

As always, please mind the tags on any recommended story for your own personal preferences.

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The Classic You’ve Heard Of But Somehow Haven’t Read Yet: like magnets work, only drawn to thee by @bluetiefling

What you need to know going in:

As I started reading this fic, which the author described as her first in years, I knew it was an instant classic! One-shot, post-S1, this story sees Galadriel sneaking into Sauron's war camp in an ill-advised assassination attempt. It's pretty immediately clear her heart's not in it, not really—the bid to kill him, anyway. 👀 Things go from awry to full of angst with a cloying, desperate, spicy edge from there, and the angst has claws. In the best way. And the smut? 🔥 Like I said... instant classic.

Complete, Explicit

Read the story.

Follow the author on Tumblr, Twitter, and AO3.

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The AU You Need to Immerse Yourself In Because, Well, Wow: the rules of you by sawdustdiamonds

What you need to know going in:

The hook for me with this fic was immediately the unique setting and the premise; a Victorian-era AU, in it, Halbrand owns a gambling hall, and Galadriel is, of course, a Lady—they meet when he catches her counting cards. 😆 As always, I love how Galadriel barrels into things guns blazing, and this fic renders her (and his) characterization perfectly. Without revealing too much, they strike a mutually beneficial deal with her sharp skills, and the instant attraction, sexual tension, and ultimate devotion soars.

Complete, Explicit

Read the story.

Follow the author on AO3.

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The Complete But Never Forgotten Masterpiece: when the world was so young by @hazelmaines

What you need to know going in:

Something to know about me: I am a SUCKER for childhood sweethearts almost as much as ETL. Combine those two??? An immediate sign me the hell up (so much so that I've written it myself 😆), and that was my exact reaction when I first set eyes on this HW fic from favorite @hazelmaines. Set in the First Age, Hal and Gal meet as youths, Mairon and Artanis, and grow in life and love together before Mairon's fall, only to meet again on the Sundering Seas. Achingly sweet and somber in equal measure, I won't say too much else... just read and revel in the mythical, cyclical beauty of this fic.

Complete, Mature

Read the story.

Follow the author on Tumblr and AO3.

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The WIP That Will Wreck You (In the Best Way): all your pain will end here by @bad-surprise

What you need to know going in:

So first, I need to say that it was incredibly difficult to pick just one of the many fics from @bad-surprise to highlight from Haladriel Week, because she blessed us with SCADS of them, and I was torn between this one and another WIP that I decided to save for next week, but I picked this one because the premise and first chapter is a jolt; a shock to the system in its heady horror, and I'm itching to see what happens next. Long story short: Galadriel is a therapist, and her patient, Halbrand, is in desperate need of therapy for his homicidal tendencies. Can she help him before she becomes his next victim? I don't know, but again—I can't wait to find out.

WIP, Explicit

Read the story.

Follow the author on Tumblr, Twitter, and AO3.

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The Can't Stop Consuming No Matter What Time It Is Fic: it's a dangerous game by @wyrd-syster

What you need to know going in:

So this story is complete but I think the category holds because HOT. DAMN. I hung onto every word of this masterpiece and somehow simultaneously sped through it with an almost feverish fervor; it was—is—just that goddamn compelling. Reading it almost felt like caving to compulsion; an irresistible pull into the world with little mercy and no way out but forward, but you're happy you're there. In this Venetian-style, Jekyll & Hyde-esque AU, Galadriel is stalked by one man that is moreso two: Halbrand and Sauron both, a beast intent on a bloody romance that may be more than he bargained for. I don't want to say too much in case of spoilers, but... the vivid imagery, the gorgeous prose (as always with @wyrd-syster's impeccable works), and the ever-present, thrumming fear in this fic is nothing short of outstanding. Just, wow.

Complete, Explicit

Read the story.

Follow the author on Tumblr, Twitter, and AO3.

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🤩🤩🤩

Me at all these fics:

Don’t see your story on this list yet? Keyword: yet. Please don’t fret! I can only recommend so many each week, but I am always looking for more stuff to read, share, and generally shower with love, so please feel free to reply with your own fics or your personal faves. I have plenty more to recommend… ❤️

Until next week!

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vollzz · 10 months

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it's a sleepy/sad saturday for me, so have a blackflame lore dump. I suppose this could also be sort of a character intro

under the cut I'll be talking about Greylin, one of the ruling deities, and his followers. up until now we haven't really heard much about him besides Eves' general disdain for him, so let's get into it shall we? I'll also put in a cheeky little snippet :)

Greylin - Lord of Deities (a self-appointed title)

fast facts: huge, like nearly 8 feet tall, extraordinarily brutish and muscular, allergic to wearing shirts, voice so deep you struggle to understand it. bald. always, always wears a crown. clouded, milky white eyes.

Greylin is without a doubt the most powerful of the deities, and spends much of his time enforcing that fact. The true nature of his powers are unclear - he cannot conjure flames or manipulate blood, for example, but he can immobilize the other deities and strangle the usage of their blessings. Though the other deities' allegiances to Greylin vary widely, they all fear him (though most would never admit it). It seems that he and Eves particularly loathe one another, and Greylin often goes out of his way to torment them.

[A brief note on deities and their followers since I haven't touched on this yet: when deities anoint a new follower, they bestow their blessings upon them as well as magically brand them with a unique mark. These marks are only able to be seen by deities and their followers, and a follower of one deity can see marks for every other deity as well.]

Greylin's blessings to his followers, known as Seers, allow them to resist the magic of other deities' followers. They also have an uncanny ability to sniff out and track magic of any kind. He marks them with distinctive swirling purple lines branching outwards from the center of their faces, and is the only deity to use such an ostentatious mark. Seers are often employed by royals and wealthy nobility for use as magical bloodhounds, as once they have a scent they will never forget it and can track it indefinitely. They also serve as a kind of cleanup crew for havoc wreaked by other deities (namely Nico and his blood-crazed cult followers), and as such are generally looked upon favorably by the common folk. Other followers, on the other hand, regard them with disdain - Seers are very outspoken about their hatred of the stink of magic, and the sight of their characteristic mark is often forewarning of a swiftly approaching death.

Seers are few and far between - Greylin likes to have around ten at any one point in time so as to use their scarcity as leverage when dealing with mortals. He finds amusement in goading wars and political strife between the various royal families on all the provinces, which has earned him the respect and good graces of the deity Samira.

and an excerpt -

Greylin leaned forward, his dominating presence overwhelming Calliope’s vision.

“Do you know why Eves fears me, Calliope?”

Calliope wheezed as the power constricted her even further; it held her limbs in place and forced her chin upwards to stare back at Greylin’s unrelenting expression.

“Surely they’ve spoken numerous ills of me to you, and yet when I command them, they fall in line just as the rest. Have you not ever wondered why that may be?”

Blackness began to cloud the edges of Calliope’s vision despite her attempts to breathe. Greylin leaned in until his mouth lay an inch from Calliope’s ear, the words low.

“I can wipe your existence from this world with barely a thought. I brought your pitiful deity to their knees with as much effort as I expended on you. Be grateful you’re spared the fate that Eves endured at my hand, and perhaps consider that the next time you wish to disrespect me.”

—

sheesh I forgot to add the tag list -

@hallwriteblr @kourumi @space-writes @at-thezenith @careful-fear @j-1173 @liv-is @eldritch-flower

#blackflame #blackflame oc: greylin #writeblr #writes #character introduction

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barakittens517 · 2 years

Text

PT. VI: The Revelation

Summary: In which the plot thickens.

Part V: The Reckoning PT VII: The Truth

Words: 2,696

Warnings: minor character death, minor religious themes (ya know, the usual)

Pairing: Morpheus x gender neutral reader

Notes: this took approximately 9000 years to plan/write/agonize over/figure out, but y'all can have a little cliffhanger. as a treat < 3

Tag List: @ponyboys-sunsets , @i-am-not-a-raccoon-anymore

You walk away from the forest along a cobblestone path you hadn’t had time to notice before. It leads towards open fields, dotted with the cottages, cabins, and caves inhabited by dreams and nightmares. The residents seem wary of Morpheus, but they relax a little more at the sight of you next to him.

You wonder if they were ever expecting him to return. It had to have been a rude awakening- pardon the pun- to have their century-long freedom revoked. You know the Dreaming has its purpose, and its existence demands a ruler. A creator. But you can’t help feeling bad for the mix of bitter and defeated expressions that greet the both of you.

Once past the main stretch of homes, you wonder where Morpheus is going. The air weighs heavy with unspoken conversation. You’re both reluctant to bring up what happens next.

You still don’t know what you are.

Morpheus still doesn’t know what to do with you. He doesn’t want to admit that he has no idea what to do with you. Sure, he could uncreate you, but there would be no going back from that- he would have no rough draft to pull from, no blueprint to guide him.

And you are unique to him. Surprisingly feisty. He had grown used to the Corinthian’s outright defiance- most of the inhabitants of the Dreaming avoided him, and it was amusing to have one of them bold enough to speak freely with him (not that he would ever admit it.) But the Corinthian was fueled by spite and hatred, and as angry as you could get, you are not the same.

Something about you is agonizingly familiar to the dream lord- comforting and yet uncomfortable.

He stops for a moment and pulls the book out of his coat, thumbing through the pages. He pauses on the page for Gault. You can make out the original design, some sort of shape-shifting nightmare with unmatched potential for the worst of horrors.

He points towards the newest addition- an iridescent set of wings. “I am still learning,” he says quietly, “Even after all this time.”

You hold your breath, not wanting to ruin the moment with another ill-timed quip. In an uncharacteristic move, he hands you the book. You’re afraid to turn the pages.

“Ms. Jude always said you learn something new every day,” you offer, admiring the shimmering colors of Gault’s improvement. Morpheus considers the phrase for a moment.

“I have had infinite days,” he replies. “And yet, I feel as though I know nothing.”

You think back for a moment, to the day Ms. Jude finally tired of your incessant questioning. You had heard her curse your lack of education, and furthermore, your lack of manners. She had thrown up her hands in defeat, and announced,

“The only true wisdom is in knowing you know nothing,” you quote. “That’s what she told me.” You catch the faintest of smiles on his face before he drops an emotional time bomb.

“What happened to her?” he asks. Your heart doesn’t know whether to drop to the floor with your stomach or burst through your chest in panic.

There’s no way he knows, there’s no way he knows-

“I don’t know,” you lie, shrugging it off as though Ms. Jude was a passing thought and not a gut-wrenching memory.

Morpheus watches you carefully, noticing how the book trembles in your hands. You flip through the pages to hide it.

“Ellis,” he starts, and-

oh god are you going to throw up right now, I swear-

“Pick a dream.”

“W-what?”

He nods towards the book. “Pick a dream that you like.”

You find Fiddler’s Green immediately. “I only ever saw him in person,” you say, “But this looks like heaven. Like, actually.”

The dream lord reaches for the book again and tucks it into his coat, offering you his arm.

“Well, then, we shall pay Fiddler’s Green a visit,” Morpheus decides.

It is a quiet walk to your destination. Morpheus is distracted by his own thoughts, and you by yours.

At what point would you own up to your history? There is not a doubt in your mind that Morpheus would be rid of you in an instant. Verity’s whispers echo in your head endlessly.

There are so many memories that you cannot place. Perhaps they had lied to you- it certainly worked to get a reaction. But if it was the truth…

Your thoughts are interrupted by the dream lord as you reach the grassy hills.

“Fiddler’s Green is one of my best creations,” he announces proudly. Your breath gets caught in your chest at the sight. For as many heavenly views as there are in the waking world, none could hold a candle to Fiddler’s Green.

“What do you do here?” you ask. Morpheus drops his arm and takes a seat beneath a grove of flowering dogwood trees.

“Whatever you would like, little one.”

The nickname rolls off of his tongue before he has the thought to stop it.

A flicker of pride bursts in your chest before you have the thought to quell it.

Morpheus quickly pulls the book from his coat and opens to Gault’s illustration. “There is no harm in taking a moment to relax. I was hoping to catch up on some new ideas, but you are welcome to explore.”

You wrack your brain for a moment- you don’t want to bother the dream lord, but you are dangerously curious about the book in his hands. Sitting so close to him is not an option. Not while your heart is already pounding the way that it is.

You take a moment to look around and notice the thick, curved branches above you. Aha.

“I’m going to climb,” you announce, and Morpheus’ expression breaks into a grin. Your heart flips in your chest. You feel childish and yet giddy, filled with nostalgia, all at the same time. You had taught the Marwood children how to climb the giant pine tree in the back pasture.

You’re standing on the first branch when the memory hits.

“I’m not tall enough!” Eden whines, flapping her little arms in frustration. David is already on the third branch, determined to reach the very top.

“I’ll help you this time,” you say, “but I know you can do it.” You swing her up onto the first branch, her little boots dangling a couple of feet off the ground. “Do you want to climb higher? You have to look for the closest branches first.” You point to the branch just above her head.

She shakes her head. “I’m having fun right here,” she answers. You know she has a fear of heights, ever since her brother had pushed her off the top bunk of their bed.

David is much higher above the both of you. “Be careful!” you warn.

He is not the listening type, even at nine years old. You know he has lost all respect for adults since learning of his father’s anger. He hates Saul, and rightly so. And he’s becoming accustomed to ignoring all authority, including you.

You can hear him grumbling, and you frown as a bundle of loose twigs and pine needles rain down from above. Eden is beginning to look nervous again, so you distract her with a game of Concentration.

“Concentration, sixty-four, no repeats, or hesitation, I’ll go first, you go second, category is…” Eden pauses, “colors… Red.”

“Orange.”

“Yellow.”

“Green.”

“Blue!” she shouts.

“Purple,”

“Pink!” She’s giggling now, having thought of her favorite color.

“Black.”

She hesitates. “...Gra-”

Her decision is cut short by the thundering crack of solid wood snapping into pieces. Eden’s eyes are wide as saucers as her brother hits the ground below. There is no yelling, no crying, no screaming.

David is out cold. Lucky to be alive, and yet cursed with what the doctors would later name encephalitis lethargica. He never had the chance to wake up. Eleven months later, Saul demanded the doctors do something, anything, to end David’s pain.

It was a lie. David did not feel any pain. But the family did, and Saul could not stand to watch his wife mourn a child who, by all accounts, should have suffered only a concussion and a handful of cracked ribs.

But what was purgatory for the family became hell for the father.

They dosed little David with a lethal amount of morphine. Eden never spoke again.

You’re standing on a higher branch now, one arm wrapped around the trunk of the tree. Morpheus is fully engrossed in his notes, and doesn’t notice the breath that gets caught in your lungs.

Red- orange- yellow, green- blue- purple, pink- black... gray. Red- orange- yellow, green- blue- purple, pink-black… gray.

The practice of naming colors had become a mantra after you left the Marwoods. You shake your head to clear the thought of Eden’s expression- eyes wide, looking pale as a ghost. You had forgotten the original memory, of that horrific fucking sound.

From your perch above Morpheus, you can only pick out the larger illustrations- his handwriting is too difficult to see. However, the view of Fiddler’s Green from this vantage point is incredible. The sun is setting over the hills, tinting everything in golden hues.

Looking around, your eyes catch the path you arrived on. The cobblestone had ended a while ago, and there wasn’t really a path to Fiddler’s Green- you reached it of your own accord. But now there’s a trail of violent-tinted morning glories that stops right before it reaches the dream lord beneath you.

You swing down from a branch to the side to investigate further. It isn’t until you’re closer that you notice the bell-shaped white flowers that follow your own footsteps to the tree.

They give off a pleasantly sweet scent that would be overpowering if there were any more of them. You reach down to pluck one and stand, twirling the stem in your fingers. You kneel and carefully place it in the dream lord’s book. His brow is furrowed, trying to decipher his own handwriting from so long ago.

“I saw the morning glories, but I’ve never seen these before. What is it?” you ask. The dream lord’s face pales, and you notice he’s been looking over the drafts of a companion. “I-I’ve already seen that one,” you blurt, “I mean, don’t worry. It’s not weird. Not that it would be weird, but- shit, I’m sorry.” You’re flustered, and quickly snatch the flower back from its place on the page.

“My bad,” you mutter, stepping back and flopping down amidst the flower trail. The little flower is wilting in your hand, so you set it back with the morning glories. You can feel Morpheus watching your every move.

It’s unnerving. You keep your eyes low, and pretend to be more interested with the white flowers currently blooming around you. As beautiful as the place is, you wish Fiddler’s Green could appear in human form, to ward off whatever uncomfortable silence was enveloping the place.

Morpheus takes a breath, tucking his book away. Your existence had continually frustrated him- never before had he lacked an answer so completely. And yet, some part of him fostered an inkling of hope. An impossibility, but then-

Morpheus steps closer and kneels besides you, plucking one of the purple flowers from the ground. “Each time I visit, he leaves a trail of morning glories where I’ve been.”

“What do they mean?” you ask.

Morpheus chuckles. “Well, they bloom each morning, and die each evening. That’s why they’re morning glories. Fitting for a dream lord.”

He reaches for one of the little white flowers. You have started braiding them together, creating a little crown of purple and white blooms. It is giving you something to do besides fidget nervously, but your hands are still shaking.

You try to focus on tying knots, but the stems keep snapping just short. Morpheus is twirling one of the little white flowers in his hand.

“Ellis,” he says finally, considering the epithet you introduced yourself with. “Where did you get that name?”

Frustrated, you toss the string of flowers into the morning glories. “I don’t know. It’s the only thing I remember, really. I needed a name anyways, in the real world. Can’t get very far without one.”

Morpheus nods. “Do you know what these are?” He holds up the tiny white bloom. You shake your head. “They’re lilies of the valley.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” you ask.

“There is a very old story about the Christian Jesus. It is said when he died, his mother Mary cried tears that turned to lilies of the valley. They’re meant to represent purity and humility. They’re also very pretty.”

You know he’s waiting for you to say something, some sarcastic remark about what Fiddler’s Green is trying to imply here. But you’re frozen in place. There is no way Fiddler knows what you’ve done. So why would he do something like this?

“You don’t like them?” the dream lord asks gently. He knows something is amiss- you haven’t moved or said a word in minutes. The flower crown is trembling in your hands.

“They’re fine,” you whisper, tears clouding your vision again.

Morpheus is perplexed. He thought this new revelation would lead to the same conclusion he had already arrived at. “Ellis,” he says, placing a hand on your shoulder, “What’s wrong?”

You want to rip up every single flower Fiddler’s Green has placed near you. This is some sick fucking joke, and you’re not laughing.

“You’re right, they are pretty,” you avoid answering, but also fail to keep the bitterness out of your voice.

Morpheus sighs, dropping his arms to his sides. He’s getting frustrated again. As much as he cares, this was not the reaction he had hoped for. “Do you know what Fiddler’s Green means by this?” he asks.

You shake your head. He wants to tell you, to shake you into noticing exactly what he has. But you’re so close to tears, and he has never been very good with strong emotions.

So he sits with you. And waits.

After a few minutes, you’re able to breathe calmly. The tears have stopped, although your eyes are now rimmed in red. You toss the half-finished flower crown to the morning glories and sigh, louder than you meant to. Morpheus tries to pick his moment carefully.

“Ellis,” he says softly, hesitantly, “You have yet to meet my eye. Why?”

You shrug, picking at the grass absent-mindedly. “I can see you just fine, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

He shakes his head. “Does the thought of me terrify you that much?”

You laugh, but the sound betrays how nervous you are. “No, it doesn’t. You don’t scare me,” you reply. “Are you supposed to?”

“Well, if the Corinthian didn’t scare you, I’m not sure what will,” he jokes. The sound of your laugh puts some of his anxiety at ease.

Now’s the moment.

“Ellis,” he starts, and then stops.

You turn slightly, enough to see him- how uncharacteristically uncomfortable he looks in his own realm.

“... Yeah?”

The dream lord takes a breath and tries again. “Do you know what Fiddler’s Green would’ve meant by this?” He motions to the little white flowers in front of him.

You bite your lip to keep from snapping at that stupid dream and his stupid flowers. You shake your head no.

“They’re lilies,” Morpheus says, waiting for the realization to hit you. It doesn’t. “Here,” he tries again, pulling his book out of his coat. He flips to a familiar page- the companion.

“I’ve seen it before,” you say, pushing the book away. “I don’t blame you for trying to make a companion. I can’t imagine being alone as long as you have.” The words come out harsher than you’d like.

“I haven’t always been alone,” Morpheus responds, “But that’s not the point.” He places the book in front of you, pointing to the flowers in the column.

Your stomach drops.

They’re lilies.

They’re not quite the same as the ones that grow around you, but you can see Morpheus’ handwriting off to the side.

fleur de lis - elis - ellis ?

#the sandman #morpheus #dream of the endless #morpheus x reader #dream x gn! reader #the corinthian #netflix sandman

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