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#the finale made me cry I will never be the same
hannie-dul-set · 2 days
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STAR STUDDED BAGGAGE [3].
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SYNOPSIS. the saying “never meet your idols” exists for a reason. you just didn’t expect the reason to be because said idols would end up declaring that you’re their alleged lover from a past life (past lives, rather). now you have three big celebrities vying for your attention, and it’s not as dreamlike as you imagined it to be.
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PAIRINGS. choi yeonjun, choi soobin, choi beomgyu x female! reader. GENRES. reincarnation! au, celebrity! au (soloist! yeonjun, actor! soobin, rock band member! beomgyu), slight college! au, slight historical! au, rom-com, angst, reverse harem woohoo. WARNINGS. swearing, talks about stalking, talks about death, data privacy violations, so much emotional whiplash yummy, a very long conversation, google dependent historical information. WORD COUNT. 6.3k.
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NOTE. this chapter finally made its way out hell 😭😭😭 per usual, please let me know your thoughts on the chapter! a single comment on ao3 inspired me to finish this, so ur feedback really means a lot! enjoy<3
MASTERLIST | NEXT >
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CHAPTER 3 — can we go back to being parasocial?
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IF SOMEONE HEARS YOUR SUMMARY OF THE EVENTS THAT UNFOLDED WITHIN THE PAST FEW DAYS, they may accuse you of lying. Delusional, even. You’d think the same had you not been the center of it all— yet the proof is in your pockets. Your phone. In the album Choi Yeonjun failed to sign, stuffed inside your bag at the last minute before you left your apartment earlier.
The summary. Right. Yes.
“Can they stop sharing that video of Yeonjun excessively flirting with a fan?! I’m going to kill myself if I see it one more time.”
You were lucky enough to nab a fansign slot. But instead of getting Choi Yeonjun’s signature, you ended up getting a kiss of a hand instead, along with a scrawl of numbers on your album that you’re far too terrified to try to dial.
“Hey, send me our photo with Soobin the other day,” nudges Huening from beside you. “I’m gonna print it out and put it in a locket and use it as a family heirloom.”
You bumped into one of your favorite actors, Choi Soobin, in the middle of a late night convenience store run with your friends to fuel your group all nighter, stained his shirt with your ice cream, and got a photo with him in the process.
“By the way, have you called the business card yet? What are you gonna do with your broken phone screen?”
And Choi Beomgyu may or may not have professed his undying love for you, asked for your hand in marriage, and started crying in front of you in less than ten fucking minutes.
“She’s zoned out.”
The problem is, you can’t even bask in the delightful absurdity of it all because one common thread from all those three separate instances has been keeping you up for nights. It’s clawing at your brain, lingering in the back of your mind like an incessant stalker— which, mind you, is not a pleasant feeling when the very causes of such disturbance were once the bringers of joy and all things good in your otherwise meaningless life as a cog in the capitalist machinery that is society.
“Hello? Are you awake?”
Said problem being the fact that you’re pretty sure they all called you by your name at one point.
How the fuck do they know your name?
“I deleted Twitter. I Airdropped it to you. No, I have not called it yet. Now please let me think in peace.”
Crazy. This is all too crazy. In the first place, what are the odds that you bump into three celebrities within one week’s time? Is this some sort of prank, or something? Are those three filming a hidden camera show together? No, no. That couldn’t be because there’s no fucking way a company is sane enough to stage a risky hidden camera prank during a fansign knowing full well how obsessive and insane fans can get. You’re lucky your face wasn’t caught in any of the videos circulating online— video of you and Choi Yeonjun, mostly him, acting out a fucking sageuk. You’re lucky you haven’t been doxxed yet.
“Finish your sandwich,” Taehyun clicks his tongue, nudging your food closer to you, and you sigh heavily. Maybe you’re just wrong, you think, taking a bite from the bread. Maybe this is just a misunderstanding. Maybe you’re just overthinking.
You eat your lunch and steal some wet wipes from Gaeul in between. Right. It’s not like you’re ever gonna bump into them again. You live in, as cliche as it sounds, two different worlds after all. You’re just gonna watch their dramas, listen to their music, enjoy their performances, and that’s it that’s it that’s it.
“Prof Jang sent a message. Class is canceled.”
But still—
“Woohoo! Let’s go to the new dessert shop that opened downtown.”
Choi Beomgyu’s voice saying I love you, Choi Soobin’s cologne wafting in the air you were breathing in, and Choi Yeonjun’s lips pressed against your skin.
How can a sane person just forget about all of that?!
“Why do you look like you’re fantasizing about perverted shit?” Woohyun slaps you in the face with a reality check. This is fucking stupid.
“I’m not fantasizing,” you grunt, because they were events that actually fucking happened— they weren’t birthed from your brain’s insanity. “Anyway, dessert? Where is it?” You ignore your burning face, hoping that your friends decide to ignore it too, but Gaeul has her eyes narrowed at you. Crap. She didn’t recognize that it’s you in the videos right? Holy fucking hell, you’d rather die.
“Aren’t you gonna answer that?”
Oh. Well. That’s— that’s something. A good something because she hasn’t suspected you yet, moitioning instead to your cracked phone that has been buzzing under your notice because you’ve been thinking way too fucking much.
You check the caller ID, but it’s an unknown number, and it doesn’t match the business card you got from your run in with the alleged Choi Beomgyu. “Hello?” you answer, and a voice you don’t recognize says your name and asks if it’s you. “Yes, this is her. Who’s this?”
Another item added to the weird as fuck things that happened to your this week. You excuse yourself from your friends, and with knitted brows, you listen to the stranger at the other end of the line. “You met Choi Soobin the other day at a 7-Eleven in Gangnam, right?” The fuck? Did someone see you that day? Is this a stalker? “This is his manager. Lee Byeongho. I would like to speak with you regarding a certain matter.”
Now, hold the fucking phone.
“Is everything alright?”
You respond to Huening’s concern with a stiff smile before turning away from them. “Did I do something wrong?” you fuss into the call. “I didn’t post any of the photos from that day. I never talked about it online either, and I’m pretty sure my friends haven’t either. Wait. Wait a minute. How did you get my number?”
“Yes, it was difficult to obtain knowing only your first name and university.” That doesn’t answer your question. That just gave you more questions. “But, no. You aren’t in trouble. Actually...I called because you’re the only one who can help us— help Soobin— get out of trouble.”
Your face scrunches up.
“I’m at your campus right now. Parking lot. Do you mind meeting me for a moment?”
Just what did you get yourself into?
“You haven’t finished your food. Where are you going?”
“Somewhere,” you reply, quickly snatching your half-eaten sandwich from the table as your friends follow your swift movements with matching looks of confusion. “I’ll be right back. It’s nothing, don’t worry.” However, you are quite worried. You’re pretty sure Lee Manager, or whatever, is committing some data privacy crimes against you, but the one thing you want at the moment is answers. Your brain is about to explode from all the fucking questions and confusion. There’s a sliver of hope that meeting up with this sketchy guy can answer a few of them. You’d take that chance to air out your head.
There’s a black van in the parking lot. It’s the first thing you noticed because one of its doors are open, and there’s a familiar looking guy waiting just in front of the exposed seats. 
He notices you approaching. “It’s nice to finally meet you,” he says. What’s with men you’re meeting for the first time treating you with familiarity? You’re going to rip your hair out and throw yourself into moving traffic.
“Sure, but can you get to the point?” you stiffly say. “I’m a little busy. I still have classes in a bit.”
“Of course, I’m sorry. This whole situation must’ve come off as a shock to you.” Great, now you’re feeling bad. Soobin’s manager (allegedly) looks like he’s been through a whole lot as well. “Anyway. You are a fan of Choi Soobin, correct?”
“Well,” you blink. “Yes.”
“How about the dramas Kang Jaehee has written and directed?” he follows up. “Are you a fan of those as well?”
Your brows furrow. “I guess?” Peach Tree. That Summer. Mogi. Those are the titles that come right at the top of your head. “What does that have to do anything with me?” Manager Lee spares you a look of pity. You feel like this meet-up is just set out to making you even more fucking confused.
“I sincerely apologize. I didn’t want to drag you into this either, but I’m afraid you’re the only option I have,” says Manager Lee despondently. “Since...since you are a fan of Soobin, and I assume that means you also care about his career, so—”
He pauses. Like he’s practicing the next set of words he’s about to say inside his head.
“—do you mind meeting up with him to convince him to take the lead role for Kang Jaehee’s upcoming drama?”
But nothing could’ve prepared you for that.
What.
What the fuck?
“Mr Manager. Sir,” you start, appalled beyond comprehension. “I’d appreciate it if you start making a bit more sense.” 
“Trust me, I can’t believe I’m doing this either.”
You’re speechless. Your mouth is hanging open with no words coming out because, again, what the fuck? Manager Lee looks just as defeated as you, as if he weren’t the one who had just presented that ridiculous proposal. You are, quite frankly, at a discernible loss. 
Manager Lee lets out a sigh and digs a hand into his pocket. “I’m afraid this is all the time I have today. But please contact me once you’ve made a decision.” Another business card acquired. This is just dandy. “I am really hoping for your cooperation, miss. I’m sure you’re aware of Soobin’s inactivity lately, and my intention of approaching you today is simply in order to help my star’s career. Please consider the favor positively, and we will compensate you as much as my authority can allow.”
With that, you’re left with another laminated piece of paper in your hands. Gosh. This is a headache. When you get back to your friends, they notice the distress you’re in, further justifying a visit to the new dessert store, and seeing how your soul has completely left your body, you’re dragged along with them with ease.
“Hey, pick one. My treat,” says Woohyun. You let out a grunt and point at a random pastry on display. Next thing you know, you’re seated in between Huening and Gaeul at the store you don’t even know the name of. 
Huening is force feeding you an eclair. “Eat.” Your scowl disappears when you allow the eclair entry into your mouth. “Seriously, what’s going on with you? Who did you meet earlier?” 
Seeing as you show absolutely no intentions of telling them, they refuse to question you about it further. Good on them, because there’s no way in hell you’re spilling your predicament. Not until you find out exactly what kind of situation you’re in, at the very least. The two business cards feel like they’re weighing your pockets down, a constant reminder of their existence along with the scrawl Yeonjun left behind.  
“I know exactly how to make you feel better.”
The declaration comes from Gaeul, who slides her phone over to you, and when you look down to see what exactly her miracle medicine is to make you feel less manic, you hack out a cough upon seeing Choi Yeonjun’s face on her phone screen. “The hell is wrong with you?” asks Taehyun from across, giving you some water to push down the eclair lodged in your throat. “I know you like him, but even that is an overreaction.”
Jesus, you’re close to losing it. When you’ve avoided choking to death, Gaeul puts an airpod into your ear, and you hear Yeonjun reading out some comments. “Choi Yeonjun, you look really happy lately, did something good happen? someone asked,” he says while having snacks of his own. “First of all, why are you calling me Choi Yeonjun? It’s like you’re putting a wall between us. I don’t like it.”
Gaeul makes a noise of some sort and had you not been subjected to this week’s insanities, you might have reacted the same way too. Instead, you simply listen to his live in caution, feigning disinterest as you watch him nibble on some pretzels and churros through the screen, continuing to answer the slew of questions in the comments.
“Anyway, you’re right! Something good did happen.” Yeonjun hums while picking out a pretzel from the paper bag, rustling noise and a lively tune filling the audio for a moment— a short moment, right before he continues speaking. “That’s because I finally met the love of my life.”
Taehyun has to give you his water again.
“Oh? Oho, what’s with the exclamation points?” he laughs. “Did I meet them the other day? Hmm...that’s a secret. You’re curious? You think it might be you? Well, let’s see. Should I describe her?”
“God, he’s so fucking messy,” says Gaeul from beside you. “This is why I like him. How many calls is he getting for his manager and company this time?”
“What’s going on? Why is she so startled?”
“Yeonjun’s talking about his apparent soulmate, I don’t know. Wanna listen?”
“Didn’t he get in trouble for doing the same thing last time too?”
Now, you’re not one to give a shit about his love life, and you like to stay out of that side of celebrity gossip as much as you can, but Choi Yeonjun himself is droning on about the love of his life right now. You can’t not hear about it even if you want to. However, as much as you want to let things come into one ear and out through the other, you can’t. Because— wait. Wait. His description is eerily familiar. His description is making you double take and second guess what you’re fucking hearing.
“Sounds a lot like you,” Taehyun remarks without much thought, right after Choi Yeonjun says that the girl he likes has a bit of an attitude, but he likes that about her.
Huening lets out a snort. “Yeah, that’s definitely you. Why don’t you go in a wedding dress the next time you attend a fansign? Who knows, you might have a shot.”
You snap them a dirty look. Fuck. This is making your head spin. For the second time, Choi Yeonjun’s tendency of putting himself into headlines and the trending searches for doing something insane is giving you nothing but stress.
“I did give her my number, but she hasn’t messaged me yet, so I’m quite hurt.”
Number. Hold on a fucking second.
“The comments are going crazy.”
You grab your bag from underneath you, dropping it down to your lap.
“Hey, if you’re watching this, pl—eeeeease contact me. Kim Noona thinks I have a phone addiction now because I’ve been dying waiting for your call.”
You quickly get up from your seat.
“Yo, where are you going this time?”
“I need a minute,” you announce, eyes scanning the store for a quiet place alone while hugging your bag to your chest. There’s nowhere. Looks like you have to get out. 
“Damn, we were just joking. As if you have a chance with a celebrity like him.”
Huening’s joke is ignored and you quickly leave outside the doors, making a sharp turn around the corner, slipping through the passersby downtown until you find an empty alley. Your heart is racing. Your heart is racing like crazy and you may be reaching right now. You may be acting crazy, but what Choi Beomgyu said during the interview with Yeong-Il the other day is echoing in your mind, and— in conjunction with everything else that had happened— you’re starting to think that maybe he wasn’t joking.
Your cracked phone screen greets you when you take it out of your pocket. On your other hand is the first business card you got this week.
“Who’s this?”
“Hello. Good day.” You tell them your name, the events that led up to you receiving this number, with the hope that maybe you’re finally on to something. “I’d like to talk about the compensation for my broken phone.”
Whatever that something is, you’re gonna get to the bottom of it.
*
It’s already beyond closing time at Kwiyeomdongmoim Cafe (a mouthful, you know), yet your pink apron is still neatly tied around your waist as you pace back and forth, to and fro, in circles inside the breakroom. The time is half-past nine in the evening. You should’ve clocked out thirty minutes ago, but you’re still waiting. 
The knock on the door signified the end of your wait. You turn to see your boss’s head popping in through the half-open crack. 
“Three guys are waiting for you,” informs Seokmin. “They all seem handsome. Are they your suitors?”
When you ditched your friends at the still unnamed dessert store the other day, you did it to make a few calls. Three, to be exact. Today is the culmination of those calls, which is why you’ve been erratically nervous the entire freaking day. Choi Soobin, Choi Beomyu, and Choi Yeonjun’s managers all answered respectively when you called all the sketchy numbers you got and made some negotiations (apparently, the mess on your album is Yeonjun’s number, but he got his phone confiscated after that livestream). 
“As if,” you say, walking up to the door leading back into the cafe. Suitors, more like stalkers. Fans stalking their idols is common, but the other way around is a pretty fresh idea. “Anyway, thanks, Kyeom. Thank you for letting me use the store for a while.” Because this is the only private place you can think of outside of your own home— and there’s no way in hell you’re letting them in there when you don’t even know how they managed to get hold of your personal information.
“We’re closed anyway.” Seokmin smiles and makes way for you to pass by. “Go ahead and do your thing. Do you want me to stay inside or keep watch?” 
“You can stay inside, it’s alright.” 
He nods. “Call me when you’re done. Scream if you need backup. I can handle all of them.”
You laugh and thank him once more, a pat on his arm before you decide to peek out the door first as a precautionary measure. From your spot, you can see three thoroughly covered men in windbreakers, caps, and masks sitting on three separate tables in the store. The blinds have already been rolled down, so you can’t see anything outside, but there doesn’t appear to be any cameras around, so you take it as a safe sign to finally leave your hiding spot.
The moment you do, the break room door creaks, and all three pairs of eyes immediately fall on you. 
They stand up. They call out your name in unison.
Holy shit.
And when they do, they all look at each other with a sudden flash of hostility in the air.
Um. Well. How are you supposed to do this? “H—hello,” you manage to squeak out, prompting their attention once more. Soobin takes off his cap and removes his mask, the other two following suit, and oh my god. Oh my god. You suck in a deep breath. Today, you are not a fan. You are an interrogator. This is not a fansign. This is an interrogation. 
“I— uh, I asked your managers if I can meet you all to—today for a specific reason.” Wow. Good job. Your hands are shaking and you can’t look up from the floor or else you’d start losing your mind. “But—but, before that— would...would you like some drinks…?”
Interrogation paused. You need to get your shit together first.
“Please enjoy.”
With the help of your boss (because your hands wouldn’t stop shaking and you dropped the first one you made), you managed to whip up four iced teas and settle all three of them into one table at the very back of the store. You send a stiff smile at Seokmin after he placed all the drinks on the table.
God, you owe him so much— especially when he’s being unreasonably glared at by the three men sitting with you right now. Choi Beomgyu to your left, Choi Soobin to your right, Choi Yeonjun directly across from you and holy fuck, you have yet to look at them properly yet for your own safety. They haven’t been talking to each other either, simply sitting and waiting for you to speak. You’re pretty sure they know each other though, at least by name, being in the same industry and all. 
To say that the tension in the air is suffocation would be an understatement. How...how do you start this? The fuck should you say first?
“You know, I was really happy when Kim Noona told me you called.”
Apparently you don’t have to start it. Choi Yeonjun does it for you.
“But why are these two crashing our date?”
And that’s when things also start to get messy.
“Date?” Choi Soobin interjects. He sounds offended. Why does he sound offended. “What are you talking about?”
Choi Yeonjun doesn’t get a chance to make his case. Because Choi Beomgyu from your left suddenly snatches one of your hands from the table, prompting you to look at one of them for the first time tonight, and your eyes fly wide open. “I’d...like to apologize for the other day. I was just overtaken by my emotions. I hope you weren’t too freaked out.”
You are quite freaked out because holy shit, this is too much maybe. Not maybe. Yes. This is too much. Too. Much.“Hey, why are you holding her hand?!” you hear Choi Soobin exclaim from your other side. Choi Beomgyu’s soft expression suddenly disappears into a glare and a sneer the moment he shifts his gaze.
“You’re holding her hand too!”
“Why can’t I?!”
“Hey, this isn’t fair! One of you switch with me—”
Dizzy. You’re feeling dizzy. Your head is spinning and you’re suffocating from the heat emanating from your very face. Whatever they’re arguing about isn’t even reaching your ears anymore. You’re getting lightheaded and your sweaty hands start slipping out from the two’s weirdly tender hold on your hands because your body is physically breaking down.
“Shut up! Oh my god, my head—”
Your vision actually starts spinning for a second so you quickly bring the bottom of your palms to your temples, elbows on the table to balance yourself, only to be wobbled and shaken because the three suddenly jolted off their seats in panic.
“Are you okay?!”
“I’m fine, just please—for the love of god— sit down and shut up.”
They sit down and shut up. You massage your temples in silence. You remove your hands from your face and, after sucking in a deep breath and releasing it thereafter, feel your heartbeat settling into a normal rate. As normal as it can get in this situation.
“Whew. Okay. I think I’m ready. Let’s get down to business.” Finally, you’re the one steering the conversation. You give each of them a once over as quickly as possible because now you know that prolonged eye contact will only hurt you. You settle with looking at the gaps between each of them. That’s fine. You’re fine. “Choi Soobin, Choi Yeonjun, Choi Beomgyu.”
It’s like three bulbs just lit up in succession. Your brain is starting to hurt.
“A—as I was saying, you three are some of South Korea’s biggest celebrities and although I am, in fact, a big fan of all three of you—” Why is Choi Soobin growing pink. Why the fuck is he blushing. “—that— that does not make me fail to recognize the amount of weird shit that’s been happening lately, and I think I need answers.”
They are still sitting down and shutting up. They listen to instructions well, at the very least.
“First, how the fuck did all three of you know my name without any prior introduction. Second—”
The words get clamped in your throat. It’s lodged in there very tightly because you make the mistake of looking one of them in the eye, only to notice that all three of them are looking at you with the same expression. An expression you can only describe as longing.
And your face starts burning.
“Se— second, why…why do you all keep looking at me like I’m an ex you want to get back together with…?”
Maybe you asked the wrong question.
Because for some reason they all look sad now. Really sad. Really fucking sad and it’s making your stomach clench and nerves all numb and funky because making three big celebrities all sad simultaneously is a bragging right at one end of the spectrum, and a national crime at the other.
It’s Choi Soobin who cracks the silence. “I…I had a feeling when I saw you again for the first time at the store.” Again? “Do you not remember me?”
Your face furrows. “No…? Did we ever meet before you became an actor?”
Hurt. The look of sadness has now spiraled into hurt and one might think you just stabbed and twisted a knife into his fucking gut.  “How—how about me?” Your attention turns to Choi Yeonjun who isn’t looking any better. It’s like his entire world view was just proven to be wrong and why does it feel like you’re the one to blame. 
What else can you do but shake your head in denial? Now he looks like he’d just been told he’s adopted!
“You’re…you’re joking,” he tries to laugh it off, but it only comes off as strained and shaky, then, in one fell swoop— desperate. “R—right…?”
“Great!”
Before you start feeling even shittier, Choi Beomgyu finally decides to join in. 
“And here I thought her forgetting about me was the worst case scenario.” His tone is bitter. There’s a snap in his words. “I didn’t think there’d be other bastards in the same situation as me. God fucking damn it.”
There’s a moment of silence. You watch as realization hits the other while you’re still left in the dark. Choi Yeonjun juts his seat closer. Choi Soobin tries to reach a hesitant arm to your direction, but you’re  tugged to the other side by Choi Beomgyu, who’s suddenly a little too, too close.
“Hey.”
Your hands are clamped together. 
“I meant it when I said I love you. I do. I have loved you four hundred years ago and I still love you now, and if whatever god or deity decides to make you meet you for the third time, I’ll still love you then.”
Beomgyu’s holding both of them in between his in a firm grip.
“Second life is about you. Blue Spring is about you. You’re the person I’ve been waiting for from the beginning of this life until the last.”
Now, if this situation wasn’t crazy, your heart would be skipping a beat right now.
But it is crazy. This is fucking insane. And you look around to see that there’s a weird look of sympathy and understanding in the other Choi’s eyes, clearly not recognizing the visceral insanity of this situation, which fills you with a swallowing lump of existential dread. You pry your hands out of Beomgyu’s grasp (you swear you can hear glass breaking), and slowly turn to Choi Yeonjun and say, with a very hesitant, very cautious, “Y...you too…?”
The look on his face says it all. And then you swivel over to Choi Soobin.
“And you?” 
“I’ve lo—”
“No!” you snap. “Don’t finish that sentence. Please. Oh my god.”
You see Seokmin popping his head out from the corner, mouthing an are you okay? and you shakily bring up a weak thumbs up. “Well, isn’t this interesting,” you hear Choi Yeonjun say, which feels like a slap in the face because what exactly is interesting about this. “Here I thought I was special.”
“Get off your high horse,” retorts Choi Soobin, a sneer in his voice. You double take. Choi Soobin is supposed to be sweet and gentle and kind. Who is this man? “Whatever kind of past you had with her doesn’t mean anything. I met her first. I met her at the end of King Danjong’s rule.”
“Ha!” Choi Yeonjun starts. “We got married under King Taejong. I’ve loved her before any of you did.”
Now, what the fuck?
Choi Soobin’s face pales and he chokes over his words. “M—married?”
There’s a smug grin on Choi Yeonjun’s face. He leans back against the chair with his arms crossed in victory. “You heard that correctly. Married. Pack up your bags. Unless you want me to tell you everything we did on our we—”
“Shut up, shut up, I don’t want to hear it!”
Marriage. King Danjong. King Taejong. Second life. The gears are churning inside your head. You don’t like the direction where the gears are pointing.
“What about you?”
Choi Yeonjun raises the question and the attention is now on Choi Beomgyu. He’s been quiet. The other two wait for him to say his piece— a feigned air of disdain and arrogance but there’s an unconcealable undertone of nervousness underneath it all. Your iced teas have been left untouched. Choi Beomgyu simply scoffs and presses his crossed arms against his chest.
“I have no reason to tell you any of that. This is between me and her.”
And at your mention, you receive the undivided attention of three pairs of eyes once more. Your heart rattles. God fucking damn it. Listen, you’re an avid consumer of the entertainment industry. You’ve watched a good amount of dramas and have read a good amount of manhwas to surmise a conclusion with the bits and pieces of stray information being tossed back and forth between the three. And it’s all ridiculous. But you have nothing else to work with unless they come spilling their guts themselves.
“So,” you clear your throat. “Are you three, like…a couple…hundred years old…?”
They all look offended. 
“No!”
Well, maybe you’re wrong about that part. But after a very long, convoluted discussion, the “facts” (if you can even call it that), are finally laid down on your feet.
They say you’ve all met before. Separately, in three separate lifetimes, with this one allegedly being your fourth unless there were lives in between that they can’t remember. One thing for certain is that the three of them remember the life they had while loving you— and they loved you very much apparently because those feelings and memories got carried over even after they got reborn into the present day.
The problem is, you don’t have the same symptoms. You don’t remember anything about your past lives. Hell, you can’t even remember anything in this life before you hit two years old. 
You slump in your seat. The table rattles. They get up from their chairs and come circling around you in concern.
“Are— are you okay, do you need to lie down? You could rest in my van for a while and—”
You swat Choi Yeonjun’s hand away before it could land on your shoulder. You’ve now got your hands on your face in stress, and peeking through you see Choi Soobin on your right, crouching down and looking up at you with furrowed brows and big, sad eyes. On your left is Choi Beomgyu, half-seated on the chair. You let out a very long, very anguished and muffled groan. This is too much. “If— if what you guys are saying is true,” you say. “What does it matter?”
There’s a tense pause in the air. 
“What do you mean…?”
You spring up from your seat and turn around, Choi Yeonjun in front of you. 
“I mean what does it all matter? King Sejeong, Joseon era, or whatever— I don’t care about all of that. We’re in the twenty-first century right now. I’m neither your lover nor your wife. I’m just a fan of your dramas and music and performances and that's it.”
You squeeze your eyes shut. You don’t really want to see their faces right now. You let a huff of air slip past your lips, turning back around to collect the untouched glasses of drinks on the table.
“Thank you for taking the time out of your busy schedule to meet me and explain. I hope it’s all settled. Thanks for clearing everything up today. You can now all leave.”
It’s Choi Yeonjun who races after you when you make your firm and quick strides to the counter. He cuts off your path. “I—I don’t understand,” he chokes out. You make the mistake of meeting his gaze and see the threat of tears glazing his eyes. “What—what do you mean?”
Admittedly, that hurled a giant pang against your ribcage, knocking the air out of your chest, but you move forward. You brush past him, setting the glasses back on the counter, and— after a moment’s pause— you turn around, a heavy weight on your shoulders. It’s like gravity is trying to suck you deep into the mantle. “What I’m trying to say is we should all just get over what happened all those hundreds of years ago and live our lives in the present. I mean, I don’t know any of you. Don’t you think it’s unhealthy to keep clinging onto the past, especially when you guys are nothing but strangers to me in this life?”
Dead silence. You don’t dare look at any of them in the face. You try and retreat to the break room as quickly as you can, hands fumbling to untie your apron along the way, but you stumble over your steps, screeching to a halt the moment you hear someone say—
“Do you think it’s that easy?”
You could hear your heart in your eardrums. 
It takes all the strength in your body for you to look back, to see the pained expression on Choi Beomgyu’s face standing the farthest away from you out of the three. “Do you think I put my name out there so that it’d be easier for you to find me, wrote all those songs about you in the hopes that I could see you again if you’re someone I can just easily forget?”
Your throat tightens. It’s like you’re swallowing a boulder.
“If you wanted me to forget about you, you shouldn’t have died right in front of me then. You shouldn’t have told me you loved me right before you went cold in my arms if you wanted me to fucking forget.”
Oh.
Oh, god.
Choi Yeonjun and Choi Soobin don’t look any better. It hits you that you might have been more than a little bit unfair.
“I’m sorry.”
You don’t know your history. You don’t know what the fuck happened between you and them throughout those years that made them feel so strongly about you. But it must be harder for those who remember than for those who forgot.
It’s not like they chose to live in the present with half of their souls stuck in the past, either. You’ve been acting awfully unfair.
“I was being insensitive. I’m so sorry,” you exhale. Your knees feel like they’re about to buckle. Your head is spinning in circles. “But to be honest, this is all still very overwhelming, and I’m having a hard time comprehending and making sense of everything. It doesn’t feel real.” You try to take a step closer, but your legs give in. Choi Yeonjun quickly rushes to balance you back on your feet.
“Don’t push yourself,” he says, softly. You can’t look at him. God, these guys really know how to bring your guilt all the way home.
“Thanks, um, anyway—” You breathe in. Shit, you can’t believe you’re considering this. “Again, I really can’t and won’t be able to understand the magnitude of your— well, uh— feelings, since I really don’t remember anything. But how about…I spend some time with each of you individually, and maybe…maybe it can help in jogging back my memories?”
The atmosphere shifts. Ah. This feels like a fucking trap.
“You— you mean it?”
To be honest, you’d much rather just not deal with any of this, just stay at home and continue living your life with these three men as persons you only know behind the screen. But those looks in their eyes— hopeful and melancholic— make you feel your organs are being rearranged every five seconds, and you’d feel bad leaving them with the pain of this conversation especially after they poured out their hearts to you.
You can’t deny the joy and escape they’ve given you for the past couple of years you’ve spent as their fan. Maybe entertaining this unreality is the least you can do.
“I mean, well,” you start, clearing your throat. “Choi Beomgyu, you still need to pay for my phone. Choi Soobin, your manager wanted me to talk to you about something, and Choi Yeonjun—”
You look at the guy who still has one arm pressed against your back, two hands in a firm grip on your shoulders. He’s looking at you and batting his eyes expectantly. You let out a sigh and set yourself loose.
“I need to discuss something with you soon, too.” As in, please stop vaguely mentioning me in your live streams because I fear I might find an angry mob in front of my house. “I think I have all your contact information anyway.”
There aren’t any more reactions coming from them. This seems like the best possible solution for all of you. You sigh again. This has been an emotionally draining evening. You can’t wait to get some fucking rest.
“I’ll be in touch with you or your managers soon. For now, let’s call it a day.”
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STAR STUDDED BAGGAGE. © hannie-dul-set, 2024.
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Anonymous asked: Adoptive!dad!simon x adopted!kid!reader but it starts off with the reader being a foster kid whos lowkey kinda scared of simon
You Remember the First Time You Called Him "Dad"
Tags/warnings: gn!reader, kid!reader (mid teens), foster!father!simon turned into adoptive!dad!simon, sfw, familial, mentions of the military, mentions of therapy, mentions of mental health issues, implicit mentions of child murder, uk foster care system, a bit of angst, fluff, crying.
A/n: aaaaaaaah i loooved writing this!!! I did my research to write it too!!! Hope you like it anon!
-Divider by (@/saradika-graphics)!
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After being discharged from the military due to his mental health, Simon got monthly compensation from the military, and started working as a butcher again, all while going to therapy at the same time. Since he's pretty much done from working as a soldier, he had to find other things to do, he had to learn to help himself, and find purpose, find a new life for himself.
After going to therapy for a good couple of months and being on medication, he found that his life became...repetitive and dull in a way. It's the same thing over and over again, work, therapy, and the times that he went out with his old teammates didn't change things that much, considering they were on missions on many occasions, dating didn't help either, that didn't work out, he's not one for that.
He'd talk about it with his therapist, he'd talk about with his friends, and he'd get a lot of advises, but none that appealed to him. He didn't know what to do, but sometimes, he'd see one of his co-workers at the butchery with his kid sometimes, seeing couples and single parents out with their own as well, and it all just reminded him of his nephew, that poor kid, Joseph. Although it opens up old wounds that never healed, he did think it over, and even asked his therapist for advice over it, and he finally decided to foster a kid after months of thinking about it and considering it.
He wanted to do a short-fostering plan, just in case it doesn't work out for whatever reason. The application took a couple of months in order for him to become a foster parent, but he didn't mind, he worked on his mental health at the time, and even cleaned out a room in his apartment for the kid that'll be there. After making an inquiry at a local foster care agency, and after a social worker visited him and the process took place, he was given some parenting training, and finally matched up with a kid to take care of, that is, you.
Your first meeting was with him and your two's social worker in a small restaurant, he was a big guy, piercing brown eyes, some scars here and there, and a black surgical mask that he took off when he sat down and started talking to you. He was just a bit scary, just a bit though.
After the social worker introduced you two, Simon took the initiative and started talking to you. "R/N, you can just call me Simon, alright?", he asked in a calm tone, and you nodded, it made sense since you two just met, and he really just wants you to be comfortable. After you two chatted a little and he paid for the meal, the social worker walked you two to his car, and talked to you, you were more than willing to stay with him if that meant some stability in your life, even if he was a little scary, so you agreed to stay with him, and he agreed to foster you, and you said your goodbyes to the social worker.
You didn't want to sit in the front passenger seat, this was all too new to you, and Simon didn't make it any better either, all broody and quiet, with that somewhat harsh look on his face, though he doesn't mean to seem like this at all, he really just wants you to feel safe around him, so he lets you get into the backseat and sees you put your little bag of belongings on the seat next to you, "Put your seatbelt on R/N.", and that you do. Five minutes into the drive and he starts talking.
"So, your school's pretty close to where we will, and to be honest with you kid, I'd prefer to drive you every day there, but tell me, what do you prefer?", he asks, eyes on the road, he'd prefer to drive you because it's safer, and he honestly hopes you just choose that, "...I...ok, um, I don't wanna take the bus, so...", you trail off, you can't even talk about what you want, let alone address him by his first name. He lets out a sigh of relief, "Car it is then.". The rest of the drive is filled with him questioning you on the meals you like, and inquiring you about your hobbies.
As the days passed, you two slowly warmed up to each other, and his kindness would show; in the first couple of days of you settling in, he took you shopping, giving you a certain amount of money and telling to buy whatever clothes you needed, he also encouraged you to buy that plushie you had your eye on but didn't openly say you wanted because you're "too old" for it. He'd ask you to cook dinner with him as way as to spend time with you, letting you chop all the vegetables with your not-too sharp knife, and letting you add them and the spices into the pot.
Hell, it would even extend to other things as well, he wouldn't hug you unless you gave him the green light, nor would he enter your room without knocking or asking for your permission first. And in the first week of picking you up from school, he asked if you if anyone was bothering you, and if you made or already have any friends, if you needed any school supplies, or if you wanted a packed lunch. On the first weekend you stayed at his apartment, he ended asking Johnny to borrow that old gaming set he doesn't use anymore just so you (and him) can play on it.
But you were still scared a little, this new environment was too comfortable, too quiet, your mind kept telling you that something was wrong, when you knew there wasn't. Week by week, your fear would slowly melt away, though it was quite slow, yet the social worker was quite delighted during the check-ups that happened.
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One night after brushing your teeth and getting into bed, it started raining, that was fine, relaxing even, until you were deeply asleep and got frighteningly woken up by the loud thunder, heart throbbing, body shaky, you needed water, you needed to calm down. You went into the kitchen, heavy breathing echoing throughout the room, you were so shaken up that you accidentally broke the glass of water you were trying to get out of the cabinet, shattering the glass all over the floor, and prompting Simon to wake up and run to the kitchen, only to find you shaking above the broken glass and breathing heavily, you looked like you were on the verge of tears from how overwhelmed you felt.
He carefully walked up to you quickly, "R/N? You alright? Did you step on the glass?", you look up at him, and the waterworks are on, he can't say anything to you in this state and he knows it, so all he does is usher you into a tight hug. "Shh...shh...it's alright, you're not hurt, you're fine kid...", after calming you down, he sits you on the couch and hands you a cup of water, covering you with a blanket and patting your head, "You can tell me what happened, I won't be mad, I promise.", he sighs, he doesn't know what happened, but he wants you to feel safe in this moment and just breath.
You drink from your cup and set it on the coffee table, breathing in and out, "I was just sleeping, but the thunder woke me up and I just...", "You got scared kid?", you nod, eyes still tired from having your sleep interrupted in such a horrifying manner. It's still thundering loudly outside. He sighs, "Alright, tell you what, since you don't have any school tomorrow, how 'bout you sleep on the couch, and I sit near you, yeah? How does that sound?", you think it over, at least he'll be there if you wake up scared again, "Ok.", he gets up and sits on the armchair next to the couch, letting you lay there and get comfy with the blanket and couch pillow. As you slowly close and rest your eyes, you suddenly open them wide, "Wait...you'll sleep on the chair?", "Yeah, what, you've never done that before?", he lets out a small chuckle, you smile a little and put your head back onto the pillow. After you fell asleep, he got up and quietly cleaned up the broken glass in the kitchen, then returned and sat back down, slowly falling asleep too.
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As the months passed, you fell into the routine that you two had, it was a calm one, a comforting one that made your worries disappear. He tried his best to be a father to you, a parental figure to you. He'd pat away any creases in your school uniform, make you lunch boxes, and openly told you to rant to him about school and your friends, about what you wanted to do and be in the future. He wanted to know more about you, and if you ever had any issues, you knew to come to him for help, and you did. He never shamed you for it, never made fun of you, he always helped you out, even if your problem seemed "trivial".
He wanted to know what you liked to do, where you liked to eat. On some weekends after you'd do your homework, he'd take you to a small amusement park then to try a new restaurant, and once he even let you have that sundae you've always wanted to try. On some weekdays, he'd help you with your homework after dinner, telling you how proud he was of you, and after, you'd help him with the dishes. He gave you a monthly allowance ever since you started living with him, letting you buy whatever you wanted (within reason), and you wanted to help him with the house, so you started doing some chores, it was perfect, cozy, loving, what you've both wanted. What he offered and gave you was what every child deserves and should have, you both know that, but neither of you ever had that.
You found someone you can lovingly call your parent, and he found a kid he could proudly say was his. It's been a good year since he fostered you, and now he's sat on your bed, talking to you, "R/N, I...would you like me to adopt you? It's possible you know, just some paperwork, I've just...been thinking it over.", your eyes glimmer with joy and content, and a smile is painted on your lips, "Yes!". A man of his word, after discussing it with the social worker and getting the paperwork done, he ended up adopting you out of the foster care system, now having you as his child, permanently. You were so happy, so so so happy.
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A couple of days after the adoption process was done, you sat next to him on the couch as he was reading the newspaper. "Simon.", "Hm?", "Can I call you "dad"?", his eyes widen a little, and he has to hold back some of his emotions, or else he'll cry in front of you, "Yeah, yeah can call me "dad" if you want to kid.", he lets out a small chuckle, ruffling your hair. You laugh, "Thanks dad.", it's a much more comfortable term than his first name, one that suits him.
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Gaz: So how's everything with the kid?
Simon: Dead good, they're happy.
Gaz: I told you you'd be a good father, you didn't need to worry so much man.
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He sets his phone down and looks at you studying for your exams in the living room, a small content smile on his face. He's glad that he can start anew, and he's glad that he's able to give you what he never had; stability, and a loving parent.
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theadorableapprentice · 12 hours
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Nightmare
MC x Solomon Warnings: Hurt/Comfort Word Count: 1709
A/N: The song is Nightmare by Set It Off. It's one of my favorite songs and made me think of Solomon awhile back. I'm glad I finally got to write this story. It took a different direction than I thought it would, but I still like how it turned out. I hope you enjoy!
They're coming, creeping from the corner
And all I know is that I don't feel safe
Solomon doesn't talk about his past much. You knew this. Of course you knew this. You’ve tried so many times to get Solomon to tell you stories from his life. He would brush off your requests with some cheeky one-liner and that was that. So, you didn’t get to know the real reason why he’s always on edge. “We’re humans in the Devildom, MC. Why wouldn’t I be?” That’s his response whenever you asked him about it. Nevermind that Solomon managed to beat Diavolo when he was mad and actively going for Solomon’s throat. Nevermind that he walked from the Human World all the way to the underworld and then back. Nevermind that he’s fought a war against the Devildom. 
The only thing that you really know is that Solomon doesn’t feel safe. You’re actually not sure if you’ve ever seen him truly relaxed. Sure he puts up this laid back facade, but you know him better than that. Which is why you’re not entirely shocked by the sight before you upon coming home.
I feel the tapping on my shoulder
I turn around in an alarming state
But am I losing my mind? I really think so
Not a creature in sight
Solomon whips around when he hears the door click, eyes wide with fear. He’s scared of something. You’re not sure what, but he is. 
“Sol… Is everything alright?”
“MC, I-” He cuts himself off and looks over your shoulder and then peers out the window.
But, what you don't know
Is that my breathing gets faster and so does my heartbeat
I wish this was over, I wish that this was a dream
He can feel his heartbeat speeding up. It’s getting hard for him to breathe. This hasn’t happened in awhile. He’s usually good at hiding these things from everyone. But not now, not from you. 
“MC, I don’t-” He closes his eyes and tries to take a deep breath. Anything to get this to stop. For things to go back to normal, where he could pretend everything was okay.
“Sol, look at me. Can you look at me?”
I created a monster, a hell within my head
With nowhere to go, I'm out on my own
Oh, I'm so scared
Solomon opens his eyes and there are tears forming. You’ve never seen him cry before. In fact, any vulnerability is a rare sight. It’s becoming more frequent, but the moments are few and far between.
“Here, now put your hand here,” You say, guiding his hand to your chest. “Take a deep breath with me. In.” You take a deep breath in and watch as Solomon tries to do the same. He shakes his head, unable to get a deep breath in. “That’s okay. Just keep your hand here. Can I try something?”
I created a monster, a beast inside my brain
With nowhere to go, I'm out on my own
My mind impaired
Awake me from my nightmare
Solomon nods, tears falling from his eyes. His voice cracks. “Please.”
You move your hands to his face and gently pull him until your foreheads are touching. Your thumbs lightly stroke his cheeks, wiping away the tears that have fallen. “Okay, I want you to close your eyes and focus on my voice. Can you do that for me?”
Solomon nods and closes his eyes. 
“Okay. I want you to think of the place you feel the safest. Think really hard about it. Do you have a place in mind?”
Solomon nods again, breathing slowing ever so slightly.
“Okay, can you describe it to me?” You ask.
“It’s your bedroom when we sleep together in there,” He responds. This makes your heart swell. The place he feels safest is with you.
“Can you tell me specific details? I want you to make this as real as possible in your mind.”
“The blankets are soft. It’s warm because you’re next to me, but it’s not too hot. The room is dark, except for the moonlight that comes through the window.” Solomon’s breathing is slowly returning to normal as he describes your room to you. 
When he finishes and his breathing returns to normal, you take him into a hug.
“Thank you, MC,” Solomon says, hugging you back. He buries his face in the crook of your neck and you feel tears starting to fall from his eyes.
“I’ll always be here for you Sol. Can you talk to me about what’s going on?”
Wait, something doesn't feel right
No, something seems wrong
And I've been feeling this way
For far too long
“I don’t even know where to start. There’s just so much.”
You slowly rub his back, hoping to comfort him even more. “How about you just tell me one thing. One thing that’s upsetting you.”
“Okay. I don’t feel safe, MC. Something feels wrong but I don’t know what it is. It’s like this feeling that something terrible is going to happen or that something is off.” 
“Solomon, you’ve lived a very long life. And I’m sure you have been through a lot of things that would traumatize most people. That’s going to have some lasting effects on you. Let me try something that works for me. Can you tell me what terrible thing you think is going to happen that has you so upset right now?”
“I’m scared I’m going to lose you again, MC. I’m scared that one day you’re going to go out and you won’t come back.”
Your heart breaks for him when you hear that. “Okay, let’s break this down. Why is that a realistic fear?”
“You’re a human in the Devildom. Most demons want to eat you.”
“Okay, and now, why is that fear unlikely to come true?”
“You’re a very capable magic user. And you have a lot of powerful beings watching over you.”
“I don’t think Diavolo would take very kindly to a demon trying to harm me, do you?”
Solomon lets out a tearful laugh. “No, probably not. Seeing him genuinely angry is a rare sight, but I know that whatever demon tried to hurt you would be in for a real bad time.”
“Okay, see? While there is always a chance I’ll get hurt, it’s very unlikely. I don’t think many demons are stupid enough to face the wrath of some of the most powerful beings in the three realms. Now, is there anything else that’s upsetting you?”
As my vision gets blurred, my skin's getting colder
Appearing young, while I'm growing older
I collapse to the floor and scream
"Can anybody save me from myself?"
“I feel trapped, MC. I stay at this physical age, but I grow older every year. Every so often I have to move around, pretending to be a new person. It’s hard to keep any human friends because they all grow older and I don’t. One day you’re going to grow old too. But I will always stay just like I am. Most people would kill to be immortal, but it just feels like a curse anymore.” More tears fall onto your shoulder.
“I can’t imagine how lonely that would be. But, I want you to remember that you do have friends. The brothers, for one. I mean, remember Asmo and Mammon fighting over what Asmo should get you for your birthday? They care about you. And, while I might not always be around, you still have me for quite awhile. And who knows, maybe I’ll stumble upon some ancient artifact that turns me immortal. With how things seem to work for me, that is a possibility.”
Walking to the ledge, I find myself looking down
Frozen still with fear, now I'm plunging to the ground
If only I knew how to fly
Then I could convince myself this isn't my time to die
Solomon laughs again. “Yeah, it is… But I wouldn’t wish immortality upon you MC. It’s truly not as great as it seems. It’s… It’s hell. You watch everything change around you as everyone you know and love grows old and dies. And then you have to start over somewhere else.”
“I have plenty of loved ones who aren’t going to grow old and die. You, for one.” You give him a comforting squeeze and continue to rub his back.
“Yeah, but what about your human family? What about your human friends? Watching the people you love die isn’t an easy thing.”
“No, but that’s a part of life. And I’m sure staying the same age while they get older is hard, but I have you guys. It wouldn’t all be bad. Getting to stay with you forever wouldn’t be bad.”
“Staying with you forever sounds nice… But I still wouldn’t wish this upon you. I don’t want you to turn into what I have.”
“What, a wonderful person who protects humanity? Someone who would do anything to help the ones he loves? That sounds like a pretty good person to me.”
“You have too high an opinion of me, MC.”
Instead, I'm rocketing faster and faster
I dive-bomb to the floor
And when my body crashes to the pavement
I'm right back where I was before
“No, I think my opinion of you is just right.”
Solomon lets out a shaky breath as a few more tears fall. “Everyone calls me shady, some even call me evil. Your opinion-”
You cut him off. “My opinion matters more than a bunch of demons who don’t actually know you. Have you done shady things? Sure. But don’t forget the ones calling you shady are literal demons. They don’t get an opinion when they’re worse than shady themselves. You’re doing great Sol. Despite what you and everyone else thinks, you’re doing great just how you are.”
I created a monster, a hell within my head
With nowhere to go, I'm out on my own
Oh, I'm so scared
Awake me from my nightmare
Solomon sniffles, pulling his face back up and wiping the rest of his tears. “Thank you, MC. I love you and I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
You smile at him. “I love you too Solomon.”
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love-lilly02 · 2 days
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The Challenge— Chapter 11
AN: i really do hope these gif’s scare you before reading. Anyways this week’s is really short because finals kicked my ass, but i hope you enjoy!!!
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Being in the military, you start to see some stuff you don’t really want to see.
There’s always someone dying, a mauled or mangled corpse in a dark corner of a safe house. You get used to it, after so many years on the job. 
One thing he could never get used too is seeing his team like this. 
Listening to your explanation was already rough. He was forced to stand there and watch you struggle to explain yourself, listen as you slowly gave into your feelings. And seeing you cry was…
Well. To say the least, he had never seen you cry before, in all your years in the military. 
Your quiet sobs filled the room, muffled slightly by the material of Price’s shirt. He stayed on one knee, wrapping his arms tightly around your back and murmuring reassurances so quietly into your hair not even Simon could make them out. After what felt like forever, he lifted his head and looked directly at Johnny. 
The man snapped out of his thoughts, and crept forward towards the pair. “Take her to the barracks, got somethin to take care of.” Price said, and Johnny nodded. 
“Aye, sir. Here, lass, up ya come.” It broke his heart, seeing you like that. And he knew the others agreed, based on the looks they were giving you. Johnny helped you stand, supporting you on his shoulder when you wobbled slightly. “Steady, bonnie. I gotcha, it’s alright.” He felt the hand before he saw the person, watching as Simon wordlessly scooped you into his arms bridal style. You squeaked at the sudden movement, and the man just tucked your head into his chest. 
“Show off,” Soap grumbled, rolling his eyes at the man’s antics. Simon just shrugged. 
The two of them brought you to the barracks, but instead of going into your room, Simon brought you to the spare room in the far corner of the hall. Long ago, since before you even joined, they had turned the room into a shared space for the four of them. It contained a bed larger than most of the ones in the bedrooms, big enough to fit all four of the men at once. 
This is the bed simon set you down on, shushing you softly when you whined. Your eyes were red and puffy, and you were still sniffing. Simon gently removed your shoes, and sat on the bed next to you. 
“Here, Johnny.” The scott needed no other motivation, kicking off his shoes and climbing in the bed behind you. The two men pressed you between them, Simon holding on to your waist and Johnny holding you across your stomach. 
“We gotcha, it’s okay.” Johnny said, pulling  you closer when the quiet sobs began again. The three of you stayed like that for a while, till your breathing evened out and you fell asleep. 
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It had been a good while since you had seen your sister, so long that you hardly remember her features. You’re somewhat sure she had the same eyes as you, maybe different hair?
Either way she was in front of you. And she was pissed. Her face contorted into thousands of shapes and expressions, her feelings displayed so clearly it was dizzying. One moment she was overjoyed, the next she was in despair, then she was so angry you thought she would kill you. Her voice resounded through the room, a chorus of loud, angry wails. The noise was deafening, so much so that you wanted to hold your hands over your ears, but you were rooted in place. 
“How could you do this to me?” She screamed, holding her head in her hands. “I trusted you, you wretched bitch! Selfish, all i did was protect you, I even took your beatings! How could you leave me, why would you…“ 
The words made you want to cry, but you were incapable of producing the tears. Slowly, you lifted your hand to her, trying to help in some way, like you used too. The movement was like a harsh gust of wind, and she backed away from you so fast you were sure she glitched. 
“Get the fuck away! Why would I ever trust you again?” 
You actually did cry then. You wanted to scream, to tell her that it wasn’t really your fault, how you thought you were helping her, how you were sorry. So, so fucking sorry, but the words melted alongside the scene. 
You were flying through dark space, into the next part of the dream. This time, the boys were here with you. They surrounded a chair in a small room, where one person sat with a bag over their head. It was a scene you had taken part of, on some mission years ago. 
“Right, then.” Price said, stepping forward. “You know why you’re here.” He ripped the bag off of the persons head, and you saw yourself sitting in the chair. 
Your face was covered in cuts and bruises, and your eyes were so swollen they couldn’t even open anymore. Your nose had been permanently broken out of place, and a lot of your hair was either completely cut off or uneven in the worst places. 
“It was fun playing with you, pet. Unfortunately, if there’s one thing I can’t stand—“ Here he pulled out a gun, pointing it straight at your head.”—It’s a liar. See you in hell, eh?”
The sound of the bullet startled you awake, and you gasped as your eyes flew open. Gaz backed off quickly, raising his hands in the air. 
“It’s alright, just me.” You tried your best to calm down your breathing, spinning your head on a swivel. 
“Where’s—“
“Simon and Johnny had to go help Price, sent me in to stay with you. Tried to wake you up but…”
You nodded. There were dried tear tracks on your face, and you could tell your hair was horribly tangled without even having to touch it.
“You don’t have to stay here. I’ll be okay in a bit,” You said. Gaz just shook his head. 
“Can’t let a teammate suffer alone. It’s part of the job description.” He climbed into the bed with you—you were still in the shared room— and pulled your head down to his chest. 
“I don’t remember reading it in the contract.”
“It’s a new addition.” 
That made you smile. The two of you lapsed into silence, simply enjoying each others presence. The sheets still smelled slightly of the other two men, and they were still a bit warm. 
They left recently, maybe seconds before Gaz got me up. 
“You’re thinking too much, princess.” Gaz whispered, and you shrugged lamely. 
“Got a lot to think about.” 
“Wana talk? That… It helps. Sometimes.”
You just shrugged. He nodded, and there was silence again. 
“Full moon tomorrow.” He said, and you hummed in agreement. “The sky should be fairly clear, we can go stargazing?”
You nodded against his chest, and he smiled. 
Times like this made everything feel okay. 
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wolfofcelestia · 2 days
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MDNI
Zayne, Dawnbreaker, Foreseer x MC
Breeding
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Disclaimer: The only exposure to Foreseer I’ve had is from secret times so he is VERY OOC!! Ignore all background plot regarding him!! This isn't about canon accuracy, this is about fucking around with three Zaynes!!
>>> Do not take any of this seriously lmao
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Zayne used his surgical knots on MC to tie her wrists to the bed posts at her request
Z: “I knew you were insatiable but I wasn’t expecting a request like this. Are you sure you want to go through with this?”
MC: “I love you and want to feel more of you. Now I can.”
FS: “Meaning you weren’t enough for her, Doctor. Once I’m done with her, I’m afraid you’ll never be enough for her.”
Zayne shot MC a look that told her exactly how he felt about Foreseer but he kept his mouth shut. He was doing this for her and once she was satisfied, they would disappear from their lives
MC flashed Zayne a smile that was half apologetic, half appreciative of what he was willing to put up with
DB: “Do you really want to bear my child?”
Dawnbreaker sounded almost lost, completely unaware of MC’s lust, Foreseer’s rivalry, and the Doctor’s exasperation of his wife’s whims
Z: “Considering what she wants and considering we share the same DNA, the child’s father would be all three of us.”
Zayne sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He still couldn't believe this was happening. This whole situation was completely absurd
FS: “DNA may tell you one thing, but would you be happy raising a child knowing your wife begged for me to impregnate her?”
Foreseer was the very embodiment of Zayne’s smugness and seeing it in front of him made him look away, again shooting a look at MC
Dawnbreaker didn't say anything, but a black ice shard began growing in his hand, seemingly to appear when his emotions were triggered by Foreseer's words
MC caught sight of this and called out his name, fearing this night of indulgent pleasure would end in death
MC: “Zayne!”
All three of them immediately turned their attentions to her, like trained dogs obeying their master. Despite being tied to the bed, she was unquestionably the one in charge of the bickering trio
The ice shard quickly disappeared from Dawnbreaker's hand and he shifted his body away from her, adjusting his tie awkwardly as he dealt with the guilt of upsetting MC, even just a little bit
Z: "Let's just get this over with so we can get rid of them."
There was a clear sense of unease in Zayne's voice as he spoke to MC. It was kind of hard to know how to act when you had two other versions of yourself right in front of you. And your wife wanted all three of you to fill her up until her body had no choice but to accept one of their seeds to conceive
FS: "I agree. Enough talk. This night will be very long and I intend for you to never forget the feeling of me making you cry out again and again tonight."
Z: "Did you think I was going to just let you monopolize her? Once you're spent, I'll show you how to satisfy her."
FS: "Look, she's already so pliant under my touch. You've been waiting for me, haven't you?"
As Zayne and Foreseer competed for control and positions with MC, Dawnbreaker stood back, a whirlwind of shock, hurt, and disbelief swirling in his mind
It was only when MC looked past Zayne and Foreseer to lock eyes with Dawnbreaker that he finally, slowly, hesitantly... approached the bed
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princesssarisa · 2 days
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I decided to make this poll because I've been listening to the excellent Little Women videos from @littlewomenpodcast, whose opinions and arguments I nearly always find to be spot-on. (And who so generously quotes some of my analysis now and then.) But I'll admit I was taken aback by one remark she and others have occasionally made about Jo and Amy. Namely that as a teenager, Jo bullies Amy, and that Amy burning Jo's manuscript is just the moment when she finally snaps after having been picked on by her sister all her life.
After hearing this, I had to go back and reread all of Jo and Amy's interactions in Part I, because I had never thought of their conflict that way, and I'm still not sure if I do.
I always saw their sibling rivalry as mutual, with both at fault. They're both strong-willed, attention-seeking, quick-tempered girls, they arguably both have different forms of internalized misogyny (Jo by disdaining femininity, Amy by disdaining tomboyishness), and they get on each other's nerves. Jo mocks Amy's childish attempts to be ladylike (and even an only child like myself knows that between siblings, teasing is normal and doesn't equal bullying), while Amy annoys Jo by correcting her manners, and neither is generally better or worse than the other.
Now of course this is their relationship in general: I'm not talking about "Jo Meets Apollyon." In that specific case, Jo does provoke Amy by refusing to take her to the play just because she, Jo, doesn't want to babysit, leaving Amy in tears. And while Amy burning her manuscript is an inexcusable, out-of-proportion response, it's even more wrong of Jo to physically attack Amy when she learns what she did, and almost horrific that she doesn't warn her about the thin ice the next day. But even then, Alcott doesn't describe Jo as always insulting and excluding Amy, and she makes it clear that Amy has played other pranks on Jo before the manuscript-burning. She writes that they've always been prone to "lively skirmishes" because of their mutual tempers – she doesn't blame Jo alone.
Still, maybe it can't be mutual, because Jo is a teenager while Amy is a child. The fact that I have no siblings puts me at a disadvantage, because not only do I not personally know the difference between normal sibling rivalry and bullying, I don't know how much of a difference certain age gaps create. Maybe the fact that Jo is three years older than Amy makes her more of a bully than if they were only a year apart in age. (Still, three years isn't that big of a gap. I don't remember feeling much more mature at fifteen than I was at twelve, just more hormonal.) Also, Alcott does write that Jo had less self-control than Amy despite being older, and in their typical scenes of light bickering, when Jo laughs at Amy's malapropisms and Amy corrects Jo's manners, Jo does always laugh at Amy first, and then Amy scolds her in response. There's also the moment in "Experiments" when Jo hears Beth crying and thinks to herself that if Amy was the one who upset her (she wasn't – Beth's bird died), she'll shake her. We could argue that this just shows how protective Jo is of Beth, but at the same time, she's thinking about physically attacking her little sister again.
In the end, I'm tempted to think this issue is open to interpretation. We can either view the two sisters as having a mutual rivalry and mutually provoking each other (apart from isolated incidents when either one or the other is more to blame), or view Jo as more of a bully and Amy as more of the victim.
I'd like to see what other people think, though.
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kass-lunula · 1 year
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EAT THIS SUCKAAA
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sysig · 2 months
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Anime good :) (Patreon)
#Doodles#MP100#Shigeo Kagayama#Reigen Arataka#Ritsu Kageyama#Forgive the anglicized name order lol#MP100 was another one of my breakfast anime! Admittedly I did not Just watch it during breakfast tho lol#It was too good ahhhh I kept finding my thoughts returning to it throughout the day!#I probably ended up watching an additional episode or so per day over however long it took haha - drastically cut down the number of days!#The lead ups to the finales especially got me - there was no way I could for the whole next day to see them through!#Plus getting to see those beautiful EPs gosh <3 What could be better than some absolutely stunning animation ♥#I was quite impressed the whole way through :D The cast was great and the animation was beautiful and fluid and impressive#And the technical ability that went into the painted animation! Gosh!!#But most of all - of course - it's just a good solid story <3 Of course it's beautifully expressed but it's just - good down to its bones#I love a story like that :) Mob is such a wonderful character and he's surrounded by good people ♥ It made my heart happy to see#He's loved and he loves <3 That's my very favourite!#Unsurprisingly to me I was most enamoured by the brother relationship who could've seen that coming lol me? Siblings? Pfsh ♪#Ritsu's a sweet boy as well <3 I cried at him crying from Mob not even considering forgiving him because there was never anything to forgive#Not me shorter older sibling feeling exactly the same way hhghghh I'm fine ;;#Reigen is such a fun deadbeat supportive adoptive dad haha ♪ He's hard to pin down! Loved his redemption arc(s) :)#Flawed individuals my beloved <3#Such an enjoyable cast and set of circumstances! I might actually have to give OPM a proper go sometime soon if this is the writing quality
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beeholyshit · 3 months
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I never properly said how they met so...
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katrasining · 11 months
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Thanks for the emotional damage maglord
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ichika39-ln · 10 months
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I'm Ichikamaxing right now. I memoryholed my middle school years due to social issues so fucking badly that I don't even remember which years I was in middle school for.
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youssefguedira · 1 year
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the thing is you start out making jokes about diabolik just being a silly little guy with 1 facial expression and 0 emotions and then months later here you are having genuine emotions about diabolik's backstory
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arillusionist · 2 years
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i have never posted a single thing on this blog but. j have something to confess. i’m never gonna be able to rewatch amphibia. because in almost every single episode its anne and sprig. anne and sprig. anne and sprig. anne and-
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ectogeranium · 2 months
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deleted my new gen wizard101 account since I recovered my old one. held a funeral service for the wizards lost in the deletion, and put headstones in my main's garden in memoriam. huh? crying? never heard of it tbh.
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Question for the void: how do you reinvent yourself when your efforts keep getting undone or get in the way of other things to the annoyance of others?
#I hope there’s not spyware on my phone or that someone has been going through it manually#y’all won’t even allow me to be stupid in private never mind that you let me know how irritating you find me whenever you can#it’s just the same same old same old and I’m beyond tired. it feels like there’s no growing or rising above this#like I’m just eating until I die. and even that I manage to do wrong. am I to blame for everything#(I realize that this is public but I havent been copying these so it’s too late to put these elsewhere)#I was a child once getting so many things wrong from the jump but how much can I blame on outside influence#and if it is my family’s fault then they’ve gotten away while I keep forgiving them and falling apart more each day#get a fucking pet instead and even then you’ll be disappointed that they’re not perfectly made to suit your mood and schedule#but god fucking damn it it has to be the dumbest heartless bitches that have kids and pat thrmselves on the back for a job well done#meanwhile all the pots are boiling over and when they finally turn around they’re only going to throw a tantrum about how unfair it is to#them. stop the press. dad missed his beauty sleep to get in the face of his quietly crying child and told them to be quiet and then sent the#problem upstairs to then rudely awake it for payback. nothing more. definitely not parenting. and you still walk around like a big man?#oh I would wish you worse than death but unlike you I still feel guilt and fear so you just get to keep wailing over the bare minimum and#never actually get your hands dirty or make up for lost ti#time. I just want it to be over. no more of this in the next life or just cut me out of existence entirely. don’t you dare do this to me#and I guess others again. I’m tired and have ruined my chances at life so don’t put me back in just so I can miss the point again and not#even have a way out.#gee was that too much
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ieirism · 7 months
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crybaby.
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pairing: gojo satoru x f!reader
setting: modern au
genre: smut and fluff
contains: brother’s best friend gojo, protective older brother geto, use of pet names (baby, princess, sweetheart), unprotected sex, slightly mean gojo (but he ends up soft and sweet, I promise), dirty talk, overstimulation, mutual pining, dacryphilia, oral (f receiving), cheesy and happy ending <3
summary: satoru had promised suguru that there'd be no funny business while he takes care of his heartbroken baby sister... but he's never been the greatest at keeping promises.
“Stop being so mean to her, Satoru.” Satoru looks over at his best friend, who's clicking his tongue in disapproval, with a nonchalant grin.
“Not my fault she’s such a crybaby, Suguru.”
“Come on.” Suguru shoots him a warning look. “That’s my little sister you're talking about.”
“Hey, hey,” Satoru laughs, raising his hands in mock defense. “You gotta teach her how to grow thicker skin. Not my problem.”
“Every time you come over, she ends up crying.” The black-haired man sighs. “Don’t be a jerk just for one moment, won’t you?”
“Mmh, no promises.” Satoru grins. Sue him, he’s simply too addicted to the way your face scrunches up indignantly whenever he teases you, the futile yet endearing clenching of your small fists at your side, and most of all, the uncontrollable blubbers that leave your lips as tears roll down your cheeks.
Years later, you’re still the same. Just a little crybaby coming apart at the seams, completely at Gojo Satoru’s mercy.
-
“S-Satoru…” The high-pitched whine of his name only elicits a laugh from the man between your legs, sending shock waves of pleasure shooting through your body.
“Baby, you gotta stop movin’ so much.” Satoru’s large hands grip your thighs, holding them firmly in place as he continues to feast on your dripping pussy. “Gotta let me eat you properly.” He punctuates his point with a loud suck on your clit that has you mewling and twitching under his hold.
“T-Too much!” You sob, hands curling into the silky white stands on his head, tugging uselessly. “S’too much, S-Satoru…”
“You wanna take my cock later, princess?” He hums against your cunt, licking a hot stripe up your slit, chuckling as he watches your pussy clench around nothing. His gaze lazily travels upwards, greeted with the sight of you nodding furiously as tears stream down your cheeks.
“Yes,” you plead with wide, teary eyes. “N-need you.” Satoru smirks.
“Then be a good girl and let me prep you,” he coos, before diving right back between your folds, enjoying the broken sob that leaves your lips as he draws zigzags across your swollen clit.
-
“I really don’t understand you,” Suguru bristles, frustration evident by the way his eyebrows furrow as he eyes Satoru.
“Hmm?” Satoru looks at him with feigned innocence. “Whatever could you be talking about, dear Suguru?”
“You’re unbelievable.” He sighs. “Those gifts you bought her… they’re worth almost a million yen. What the hell is wrong with you, really.”
“Well, you told me I made her cry.” The white-haired man shrugged. “I had to make up for it, didn’t I?” Suguru squints suspiciously, at a brief loss for words.
“...You are not normal,” he finally scoffs.
“Of course not,” Satoru agrees, unfazed.
“You can’t keep doing this. You’re gonna end up spoiling her.”
“And what’s so bad about that?”
-
“Gimme another one, baby.” He’s faintly aware that if he makes you cum again, you really might pass out. However, he can’t really bring himself to be too concerned about that, not when he’s quickly becoming addicted to the taste of your dripping cunt and cries of pleasure.
“C-Can’t, I can’t — “ You sob, entire body shaking around his mouth; you’re so sensitive.
“You can,” he insists between hungry slurps, not letting any of your arousal go to waste. “Fuck…” You’re so sweet. Just how did he survive this long without having a taste of you?
“Please…” You’re still shy, trying your best to stifle your cries even as they fall in a steady stream from your trembling lips. Each loud squelch of your sopping pussy still has you cringing a little, not to mention the embarrassment that washes over you every time you catch a glimpse of your juices all over Satoru’s face.
“Don’t hold back anymore, sweetheart.” He reaches up to grab your wrists, pulling them away from your mouth even as you blubber out a weak protest. “Wanna hear you this time, say it loud. Say my name when you cum.” One more combined thrust of his fingers, deep into your hole with a flick of his tongue across your clit has you creaming on his lips for the fourth time.
“S-Satoru!” You’re unable to control the beautifully loud whine of his name as Satoru greets your orgasm eagerly, savoring every last drop of your release on his tongue.
-
“You made her cry again.” Suguru says, rolling his eyes as he approaches his best friend at their meeting spot.
“Huh?” Satoru raises a brow. “Haven’t even seen her since two weeks ago. What’d I do?”
“She’s sad you’re moving away.” Suguru tuts. “Can’t imagine why. Probably because she won’t be able to use you for your wallet anymore.”
“You implyin’ I’m just a wallet to her?” Satoru exclaims, a little offended. The black-haired man shoots him a deadpan glare.
“You know you’re not. But even you’re not enough of an asshole to use that against her.”
“It’s just college,” Satoru muses. “Kid thinks I won’t be back for her?”
“In two years she’ll be going off to college too.” Suguru shrugs. “She’ll get over you.”
“What a cruel thing to say.” Satoru laughs it off, ignoring the small flicker of jealousy that flares to life deep in his chest.
-
Satoru watches as your chest heaves up and down, in your effort to try to recover from the multiple orgasms he had just given you. You’re lying limp on your bed, unable to move save for the periodic twitching of your thighs.
“Sorry, princess, was that too much?” He’s teasing, but there’s a genuine edge of concern to his voice as he cups your cheek in his hand. You nod, a few tears falling down your face. “Aww, forgive me. You’ll forgive me, right?” In response, you tug weakly on his shirt collar, asking him to come closer. He relents, allowing you to drag him down towards you. Satoru’s about to ask what you need, before you suddenly tilt your head upwards to kiss him.
Satoru lets out a small noise of surprise as your soft lips press against his, hesitant at first, but deepening once your fingers find further purchase in his shirt, gripping tightly. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you up into his lap.
You kiss him a little clumsily, still boneless from your release but Satoru doesn’t mind. Doesn’t mind at all, of course, when your lips are so soft against his, and he can swallow every quiet whimper that escapes you.
“Satoru…” Your voice is raspy and small, but your eyes are wild as you cling helplessly to him. “A-Am… Am I ready yet?” His jaw goes slack in awe at the adorable, troubled expression on your face. Your lips are swollen into a permanent pout now as you look up at him with those wide doe eyes that always had him weak.
“...Think you are,” he heaves, realizing that he’s just as fucked out as you are. It takes everything in him to hold back the urge to just take you.
-
“She’s grown up.” Satoru raises his eyebrows in pleasant surprise at the pictures that Suguru shows him. Your family had recently gone on vacation, so Suguru had been gone for an entire week, leaving his best friend and roommate all alone.
“That’s what you’re looking at?” Suguru shoots him an annoyed look.
“Oh,” says Satoru, glancing back at the picture. “Uh, nice waterfall.”
“One of the seven natural wonders of the world and all you can see is my baby sister.” Suguru exhales deeply.
“What? You can’t blame me too much. Kid’s changed,” the white-haired man shoots defensively.
“She’s twenty, not sixteen anymore. Of course, she’s changed.” Suguru pinches the bridge of his nose. 
“I know that, I just…” Satoru pauses, glancing back at the picture. You’re still tiny, only reaching up to your brother’s, and by extension his, chest. Your face has matured, though, baby fat gone from your cheeks. That didn’t stop you from being any less adorable, though — your smile is as radiant as ever. He can’t help but let a small smile of his own slip onto his face.
“Hopeless,” Suguru mutters in disbelief. “Hopeless, the both of you.”
“Huh?”
“Nothing.”
-
Satoru lets you unbutton his shirt, watching in amusement as your eyes narrow with focus as each button pops open, slowly revealing more and more of his skin.
“Um…” You’re nervous. It’s plain as day from the way your lip wobbles as your eyes sweep down the view of his chiseled chest and torso, only to end at the prominent bulge in his slacks.
“You sure you’re okay with this, princess?” He cups your chin in his hand, gently tilting your face to look straight at him. “Need to rest?”
“N-No!” You protest immediately, shaking your head. “I…” You glance back down at his erection, a flicker of desire in your eyes. “I need…” You trail off, unable to say it.
“Okay.” If he was feeling meaner, he would make you tell him exactly what you want. But he wants to be nice today, especially since you’ve already cried so much for him. “Okay, baby. Don’t worry, you’ll have it. Can you unzip me? Can you do that for me?” You hesitate for a moment. Satoru briefly wonders if he’s perhaps pushed you a bit too hard.
But then you’re reaching for him, small hands finding the top of his pants and slowly undoing the button. Your fingers close around his zipper, slowly tugging it down.
“Good girl.” He pecks your forehead. “Take me out of my boxers, alright?” As his angry, swollen cock springs free from his underwear, you can’t contain your gasp.
“Oh…” The soft sound leaves you almost involuntarily as you stare and wonder at how the hell that’s gonna fit in you. He’s thick and long, rock hard and dripping with pre-cum. You slowly wrap your own hand around his cock, lips parting as your fingers fail to meet in the middle. Your own pussy clenches in a combination of fear and excitement.
“See why I needed to prepare you, now?”
-
“Sorry to spring this onto you all of a sudden, especially since you just got into town.” Suguru sighs over the phone.
“Don’t worry about it. If you’re not around to take care of her, duty falls on me,” says Satoru as he reverses his car out of the parking lot, heading to the location Suguru had sent him.
“Let me know when she’s home safe. Tell her I’ll be back tomorrow.”
“Yeah, will do.”
A pause.
“And… no funny business, got it?”
“Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”
“I’m serious, Satoru. She just confronted her asshole cheater ex. She doesn’t need you drooling all over her right now.”
“Relax, dude. I’m not that desperate.” Satoru rolls his eyes.
“Good. Keep it that way.”
-
His conversation with Suguru lies in the back of his mind, forgotten, as Satoru places a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Lay back and relax for me, sweetheart.” You immediately obey, laying yourself down on your bed, heart beating fast in anticipation.
“S’gonna hurt, right?” you ask softly.
“Don’t worry, baby. I’ve gotten you ready, see?” Satoru comforts you, brushing his fingers against the wetness still soaking your entrance.
“Oh.” Tears suddenly well in your eyes. “Um, s-sorry, it just always hurt with him…”
“What?” Satoru’s eyes darken, unsure if you mean what he thinks you do.
“He just…” You bite your lip, trying not to let your tears fall. “H-He just p-put it in, y’know?” His heart drops in his stomach. Two years, two whole fucking years with that asshole, and he had never given you proper foreplay? No wonder you were so sensitive and responsive to his touch, your body had never received the attention it’s always deserved.
“Baby.” Satoru squeezes your hand, fighting down the urge to find that asshole and beat him up. That could come later. Right now, he has to focus on you. “It’s not gonna be that way this time. Not with me. Okay?” You nod, squeezing his hand in return.
“O-Okay.”
-
It’s the first time he’s seen you in person in four years, and here you are in the passenger seat of his car, crying your eyes out.
You feel absolutely humiliated. You had called Suguru to ask him to pick you up from your ex-boyfriend’s house after you dumped him, but he had told you he couldn’t.
“I’ll send someone to get you. Hang tight,” he’d said.
You just didn’t know it was going to be Gojo Satoru, who hadn’t returned to your hometown since he graduated high school.
“I’m gonna bring you home,” Satoru had told you, getting out of the driver’s seat to open the car door for you. “Relax, okay? You’re safe now.” He had buckled your seatbelt for you before settling in himself, starting the engine without another word.
The car ride back to your house is silent, save for the continuous sniffles that wrack your body as you try your best to stop your tears. Satoru silently puts a box of tissues in your lap at some point, and your heart stutters at the action.
You’ve known for many years now, that you never got over your first love.
-
Clothes fully discarded, Satoru lowers himself on top of you, enamored with the way you shyly glance down at`his cock, gaze wavering for a moment before slowly looking back up at him, eyes begging for him to do something.
“Tell me if you want to stop.” He brushes his fingers, tender and gentle, across your cheek. You nod, hand curling around his bicep.
“Kiss me,” you request, and he gladly obliges, leaning down to peck your lips.
“M’gonna go slow,” he tells you. “You want me to stop, hit me real hard — “ He smacks his own chest. “ — Right here. Got it?”
“I won’t,” you say bravely, eyes glimmering with determination. “I… I can take it.” Satoru laughs quietly.
“Alright, princess. Don’t act all cute, you’re just rilin’ me up now.” You smile, a little mischievously.
“Oh, you caught me.”
“Fuck…” Satoru groans, pressing his forehead against yours. “You’re gonna kill me.” His fat tip taps against your clit once, twice. You gasp, eyes going glossy as you feel your swollen pussy clench desperately around nothing.
“Satoru,” you plead. “P-Please…”
“I’ll give you what you need. Relax for me…” He aligns his tip with your entrance, prodding between your folds. Inch by inch, he sinks his cock into your warm, throbbing cunt, almost blacking out himself at the sensation of your tight, velvety walls clamping around his cock.
“A-Ah…!” You whine, gripping his bicep and squeezing your eyes shut. The stretch is almost too much, but the delicious sensation of being filled to the brim has you seeing stars.
“You okay?” Satoru pants, willing himself to stop from splitting you open on his cock to check on you.
“Yes,” you whimper. “Yes, a-ah, please k-keep going…” Satoru rests his head in the crook of your neck as he continues to push himself in, enjoying the soft, labored whimpers as you take more and more of him, deep into your sopping hole.
“Almost there,” he coos. “Almost there, princess…” After what feels like an eternity, he finally sheaths the last of him in you, biting at your shoulder as he finally, finally feels exactly the sensation of being one with you.
-
“Drink. You’ll feel better.” Satoru places a glass of water in your hand as he leads you to your living room couch. You stubbornly refuse to look at him, letting the glass sit uselessly in your hand as you stare down at your lap.
He sighs, not sure what he should do. He’s never been good at comforting others, let alone his friends’ kid sisters. He knows you’re not a kid anymore, you’re a full grown adult, but the way you’re sulking and ignoring him says otherwise. Still, his fondness for you wins above all else as he takes the water back and puts it on the coffee table, letting you sit in silence.
”You gonna be okay by yourself?” he asks instead. Satoru doesn’t want to leave you alone, but he’s not sure if his presence will even help. He hasn’t been an active part of your life in years, and he has a feeling that this incredibly vulnerable moment isn’t the best time to barge back in. You don’t reply, twiddling your thumbs.
“Call me if you need anything,” Satoru says hesitantly. “You have my number, right?” No response. “I’m gonna write it down for you.” He finds a spare stack of Post-Its and does just that. You don’t react even when he sticks the note right on top of your forehead, in a shitty attempt to lighten your mood. Your deadpan glare, so much like your brother’s tells him it did not work.
“Suguru’s gonna be back tomorrow,” he tells you, taking the note off and soothing the annoyed crease between your eyebrows. “Go get some rest now, yeah?” You look away. Satoru sighs. Seeing you upset like this hurts him way more than he would like to admit. “M’gonna leave. Get to bed soon.” He pats the top of your head, just like he always used to do, which always made you whine when he messed up your hair. You’re quiet now, not a peep of complaint leaving you.
He really misses hearing your voice.
“Bye, then.” Satoru’s about to turn around and leave, but you do something that seems to shock both of you. Your fingers curl and grab onto the hem of his collared shirt, stopping him in his tracks. He stares down at you in surprise, trying to process the sight of your small, thin fingers holding onto him for dear life.
“Stay.” The one word was enough to crumble his self-control.
-
You’re struggling to adjust to his size; he can tell from the way you’re digging your nails into his arm and the trembling of your thighs around his waist. Satoru stays still, waiting for your permission to go any further, right hand rubbing soothing circles on your hip.
“Don’t stress yourself, baby, just tell me what you want, when you want it,” he murmurs against your neck, waiting patiently, torturously, for permission to move.
You’re so overwhelmed by the sensation of being stuffed full; Satoru is much bigger than your ex-boyfriend and yet, the feeling isn’t painful. It’s so good, a throbbing ache that extends outwards from your core all the way to the top of your head and the tip of your toes. You can hardly form thoughts, let alone words, as your pussy stretches around him, trying to accommodate the sheer size of his cock.
A few more moments pass, and you feel like you’re going crazy. The feeling of being so, so full is one that you’ve never felt before, but you think you’re already addicted. Your thighs flex instinctively, closing tighter around Satoru’s waist and pushing his cock even deeper, pressing right against your sweet spot. You mewl, wrapping your arms around his neck, silently begging to be closer to him.
Satoru leans into the kiss you give him, groaning as your walls suddenly clench once around him, brain filling with nothing but white noise. “Fuck,” he grits out against your lips.  “Fuck, baby, I don’t know how much longer — “
“Move.” Your command is quiet. Satoru almost wonders if he’s misheard you. But one look into your pleading, begging eyes confirms what you want. Unable to hold back any longer, he pulls his hips upwards, snapping right back into you with one long, hard thrust. You cry out, nails sinking into his shoulder blades.“M-More,” you whisper. “Need more.”
He doesn’t need to be told twice.
-
Satoru’s at a loss for words and actions as you stood on your tiptoes, reaching up and bringing his head down to kiss him. His arms instinctively wrap around your waist to steady you, craning his neck to allow you better access — oh shit, what the hell is he doing?
He lets go of you like he’s touched something on fire, pulling back from the kiss. As your heels land back on the ground with a soft thud, he’s greeted by the sight of you looking like you’re about to cry again. “Wait — “ He reaches for you, but retracts his hand; he’s not sure if he can trust himself to stay in line. His heart is beating so fast, you had just kissed him, completely out of the blue.
Satoru knew about your crush on him when the two of you were younger. You started having feelings for him when you were thirteen and he was fifteen, making it painfully obvious. You followed him and Suguru around like a lost puppy whenever he came over, despite Satoru’s constant teasing.
He thought your actions were funny at first, becoming the root of his continued teasing. Despite still making you cry all the time, you always came right back to greet him with a smile upon his very next visit. After a while, Satoru looked at you with fondness, in the way that one would gaze at a small animal. You were harmless, sweet, and so very adorable.
Satoru didn’t return your feelings at the time. You were just Suguru’s kid sister that he liked to toy with sometimes. You were awfully cute when you were mad.
But now, as you look up at him with desperation and longing, his heart clenches faintly in his chest. You’re so, so beautiful — the pictures Suguru had showed him hadn’t done you justice in the slightest. You somehow look so enchantingly gorgeous at this moment, even with tears glistening in your eyes and rolling down your cheeks.
Would you hit him if he tried to wipe away your tears?
He never gets to find out, because you speak his name softly, drawing him in like a moth to a flame. Satoru leans down to carefully listen to what you have to say. “W-Want you.”
-
“So good, so fuckin’ good for me, princess,” Satoru groans, reveling in the dizzying heat of your pussy as he drags his cock in and out of your walls, fucking you at a steady pace. “You feel me in there? You feel me in your little cunt?”
“Y-Yes,” you manage to sob out between moans, each rough snap of his hips into you melting your brain into jelly just a little more. 
“What a perfect lil pussy,” He chuckles as you squeal after a rather rough thrust, the loud squelch of your hole sucking him in echoing through the room. “No sane person in this world would ever give this up this tight wet cunt.” You whine at his filthy words, drool dripping out of the side of your mouth as Satoru continues to ram into you, faster, harder.
“Satoru!” You’re crying out his name over and over, legs wrapped firmly around his waist, pushing him deeper and deeper. “S-Satoru, I-I — “
“You likin’ this, baby? Tell me how much you like this,” he coos into your ear, hand reaching down to rub at your swollen clit.
“I l-like it s-so much, i-it’s so ahh…! I-it’s so good,” you sob out. You never thought sex could feel like this — you never understood why the people around you were so obsessed with it, especially with the treatment you received from your ex.
Now, though, as each rut of Satoru’s dick into your cunt kisses your sweet spot, you get it. You don’t know if you’ll ever be able to forget this feeling of being filled by cock so brutally sweet.
-
“Hold on.” Satoru had tried to protest, he really had. You’d just broken up with your boyfriend. Like Suguru said, the last thing you needed was any funny business. “Listen — “ He sighs out your name, making your bottom lip wobble. “You have to go rest, don’t be reckless.”
“Please.” You tug at his sleeve, staring at him with that puppy-eyed look that always gets you what you want. He really had spoiled you, hadn’t he?
“Not now,” he tried to reason with you. “You’re still hurting, you’re not in the right mind.” You glare at him.
“Who’re you to say m’not in the right mind?” you whine. “I…” You suddenly seem to lose your confidence, staring down at the floor. “...I only ever wanted you.”
“What?” Satoru stares, wide-eyed, at your confession.
“Know you don’t want me that way,” you continue, voice small. “But I… don’t care.” You sniffle. “Don’t care, Satoru. Just want you.”
And when you tug desperately at his shirt again, this time, Satoru is too far gone.
-
“Fuck, I’m close.” He growls into your neck, his pace picking up as he chases after his release, He coaxes you to join him, thumbing at your clit and cooing for you to “Let go, cum for me, c’mon. Cream all over my cock, princess.”
The only sounds in the room are a symphony of your moans and the slick sounds of his cock pushing in and out of your hole as a coil forms deep in your gut, threatening to snap at any moment. You feel tears stain your cheeks as Satoru’s pace increases, pounding into you so deep you can practically feel him in your throat.
“S-Satoru, I’m g-gonna — !” You cut yourself off with a loud, lewd moan, cunt clenching down hard around him as you come undone for the fifth time just this night. You swear you lose consciousness for a second, lost in the euphoric feeling of your release as your swollen pussy throbs in satisfaction.
“Shit..“ A few quick, shallow thrusts later, Satoru finishes as well, thick ropes of cum splurting into your womb, filling you with a warm sensation.
“A-Ah…” you whimper out, pussy fluttering weakly around his softening cock, which is still fully sheathed inside you. A white ring remains on his dick as he gently pulls himself off of you, cum dripping from your spent pussy onto the sheets. Satoru tuts, placing a pillow under your hips so you won’t leak.
You’re only faintly aware of what he’s doing as he leaves briefly and returns with a warm, wet towel, gently asking you to open your legs for him. You obey, but you’re so exhausted you can’t help it as your eyes droop shut. The last thing you remember before falling asleep is Satoru leaning forward to peck your forehead, praising you for taking him so well.
-
You wake up a few hours later to sunlight streaming through your bedroom window, making you squint a little as you sit up in bed. You immediately gasp at the ache between your legs, and the soreness racing up and down your body.
Memories of the previous night come flooding back as a sleepy groan sounds from next to you. Satoru stirs, awakened by your panicked sound, asking softly, “You okay, baby?”
Oh god. Shit. Fuck. You actually had sex with Gojo Satoru.
“Hmm?” He looks a little concerned at your lack of response, pulling you against him. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? You in pain? Sorry, did my best to clean you up and everything.” Only then do you realize that the place between your thighs is no longer sticky, and that you’re wearing a fresh set of underwear with Satoru’s unbuttoned shirt wrapped around you.
“...What did we do?” You whisper in a muddled mixture of shock and amazement.
“You regret it?” he asks carefully, pulling back a little to gauge your reaction. You shake your head vehemently, snuggling back close to him. You breathe in his scent, eyes fluttering closed. You feel so right at home in his arms.
“No.” You ponder for a bit. “But it’s never gonna happen again, right?” Satoru’s breath catches in his throat.
“What?”
“I know last night might’ve given you the wrong impression.” You swallow hard, trying to contain the feelings bubbling up within you. Satoru just looks so beautiful under the morning sun, his crystal blue eyes glittering in the light. You know you’re not mistaken, you’ve never been so sure about it — you love him. “I don’t… do this. Thank you for being with me for this one night, but…” you trail off.
“Hey, hey.” You’re crying again, and this time, Satoru wipes the tears off your cheek, cupping your face between his hands. “What’re you talkin’ about?”
“Don’t want just this from you,” you continue vaguely, looking away shamefully. “But I don’t… I don’t expect you to want the same.” He stills at your words, trying to decipher them properly.
“You still in love with me?” He deciphered them spot on, but that doesn’t stop a humiliated squeak from leaving you. You’re huffing, face on fire with a mixture of frustration and embarrassment.
“F-Fine, whatever! You know already, so…” You look away, gnawing at your lower lip. “That’s w-why — “
“Don’t really know why you’re so upset, princess,” he cuts you off, pulling you out of the downward spiral he sees you’re about to fall into. “Think…” Satoru pauses to swipe at a tear at the corner of your eyes. “Still such a crybaby,” he can’t help but say, watching with amusement as you scowl at him with all the ferocity of an angry kitten.
“Ugh, jerk! Four years later and you still can’t take me seriously, God, why do I even bo — “ He cuts you off again, this time with a kiss. When he pulls away, he’s smiling gently, chuckling at your dumbfounded expression.
“Think I love you too,” he finishes. “So you’ve got nothing to worry about.” A few moments pass.
“...Are you fucking with me?” You look him dead in the eye.
“Technically, I already did,” he replies cheerfully. You look at him in disbelief. “Okay, sorry, sorry, sweetheart. Let me spell it out for you.” Satoru holds you close to him, tracing slow, comforting circles along your back. “Be my girlfriend?”
You answer him with a kiss of your own.
-
Suguru sighs, fishing in his pocket for his house keys as he approaches the front door. He’s worried about you; although the bastard had cheated on you and deserved to have you dump him, he knows you’re still probably heartbroken.
Or at least a little heartbroken. Suguru’s aware you never really that into your ex, if your drunk phone calls about how much you miss Satoru were enough evidence. Hiding those from his best friend was tough work; he would have to sit in the bathroom or the closet with his headphones and speak as quietly and carefully as possible to not rouse any suspicion.
Either way, he knows you definitely need some cheering up right now. He’s brought you a box of cupcakes from your favorite bakery, hoping it would be enough to at least get you in a talking mood.
Imagine his surprise when he opens the door and the first thing he sees is Gojo Satoru. Not only is Gojo Satoru standing in his kitchen, but he’s wearing Suguru’s apron, a gift from you many Christmases ago. To make things worse, he’s nearly butt naked under it, only wearing a pair of boxers that are — wait a second, are those Suguru’s as well?
“Oh hey, Suguru!” If Satoru is nervous or embarrassed, he plays it off well as he turns around and waves, flashing the stupid, faded picture of Remy from Ratatouille on his apron right in Suguru’s face. “You hungry? Was just makin’ some eggs.”
“What the actual fuck,” Suguru grits out, putting two and two together as you choose that moment to wander out into the kitchen, wearing nothing but an unfamiliar collared button down that reaches down nearly to your knees. Satoru’s.
“S-Sugu.” Your eyes go round, stopping in your tracks. No one speaks for a moment. Satoru’s still happily cooking eggs. Suguru’s expression is stone cold. You’re staring at your brother with embarrassment written all over your face.
“Baby, you ready for food?” Satoru steps away from the stove to wrap an arm around your waist, smooching you on top of your head. You make a stuttered noise under your breath, glancing back at your brother.
Suguru’s smiling now, but not in the traditional sense. He looks almost maniacal as he slowly places the box of cupcakes on the table before locking eyes with Satoru. Finally, the white-haired man has enough shame for his casual grin to falter.
“What happened to no funny business?”
Satoru is forced to abandon the stove, running away from a fuming Suguru chasing after him with the first thing he could find on the dining table — a carrot.
“Sugu, stop, it’s okay — “ Your pleas fall on deaf ears as your brother is hell-bent on finding a way to murder his best friend with a vegetable. You sigh deeply, moving to go after them when you suddenly smell something burning. Your head snaps to where the eggs Satoru was cooking are now sitting blackened over the flame.
Needless to say, the first morning with Gojo Satoru as your official boyfriend was far from perfect.
Thankfully, you would have many, many more mornings with him, each more wonderful than the last, that this one quickly faded from importance.
But not from Suguru’s.
“I still remember,” Suguru says, clearing his throat for dramatic effect. “When I opened the door on that one morning, and you were not only in my house, but you were half-naked wearing my apron and my underwear — “
Satoru groans as the audience bursts into laughter at his best man’s speech, burying his face in your shoulder. You’re giggling right along with them, sparing your new husband a peck on the cheek as his best friend continues to tear him apart.
“Then you had the audacity to pretend nothing was wrong — “
Satoru knew he would never live this down, but he had zero regrets. Not when you’re sitting right next to him in a pretty white dress holding his hand under the table.
“Well.” Suguru looks over at him, raising a brow. “Got anything to say?” Satoru takes the mic from him, face splitting into a shit-eating grin as he says two words:
“Worth it.”
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