#AND AFTER MONTHS AND MONTHS I'M BACK TO HITTING ON CRIS | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sceletaflores · 2 months ago

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LAYING IT ALL ON THE LINE...

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｡꩜°‧➵ PAIR: Joel Miller x fem!reader

｡꩜°‧➵ WC: 4.1k

｡꩜°‧➵ CONTAINS: 18+ SMUT MDNI, post-outbreak, hurt/comfort, joel's pov, general violence, minor character injury, jackson!joel, when he picks an unnecessary fight with you because that's all he knows, mentioned age gap, joel miller as a sad old man, joel miller experiences feelings, oral sex (f!receiving), p in v, clothed sex, unprotected sex, erectile dysfunction? we don't know what that means in this house because that old man can fuck like he's twenty AND his knees are made of steel (but only sometimes), porn w/o plot, no use of y/n.

｡꩜°‧➵ @retrosabers SAYS: thinking about you almost dying on patrol and joel is FUMING, unable to convey just how worried and anxious it makes him. the only way he can even remotely conceptualize his feelings is through a very PASSIONATE rawdogging ♡

｡꩜°‧➵ NAT'S NOTE: everyone say thank you sid for this absolutely luxurious prompt...i'm waiting. i had so much fun with this! i love love love a good semi-angsty, emotionally constipated man having to come to terms with his buried slash repressed feelings in the gritty wake of a near-death experience, like that's my shit. hope y'all love it!

dividers by @cafekitsune & @saradika-graphics!

joel miller realizes that love isn’t just a four letter word…

"Southeast perimeter’s clear. Heading west by the river bed."

“Wow, you’re finally gonna stop gettin’ us lost out here, sunshine?”

“Lost? Please, you cried when I found that shortcut through the cedar thicket.”

Joel listens to you and Tommy bicker over the radio, a forgotten cup of coffee going cold at his side. That's all he can do when you're out there—patrolling in the snow with a few others. He's not proud of how he just sits by like some anxious house wife, listening to the static between check-ins, but he can't make himself focus on anything other than the way your bright voice filters in and out.

He tries not to hover. Tries not to keep the handheld clutched like it's a goddamn lifeline. But he does, eyes glued to the thing like it might crack open and spill you out if he stares hard enough.

Joel's really not even supposed to be listening in like this. Maria's chewed him out more times than he can count each time she catches him hunched over an old radio that he's never bothered turning in, says it'll do him more harm than good worrying over it.

Besides, these channels aren't meant for civilians sitting on their asses at home. He knows that, because that's exactly what he is now—civilian adjacent. Half-retired.

Tommy jokes about it every once in a while, the way Joel's slowed down, the way his joints complain louder than they used to. A while back, he might've laughed too. Now, every little twinge of pain feels like a reminder of what he used to be.

Joel used to be the one they all looked to out on patrol. He could track better, shoot cleaner, navigate faster than most of the younger guys. That's not the case these days. His patrolling has slowed down over the past few years. He only goes out a few times every couple of months, if even that.

He tells himself it’s by choice.

It’s not, not at all. He’s tired. His knees ache after long rides. His busted shoulder can’t handle the cold without locking up. Jackson’s got a whole rotation now, young joints, faster reflexes, eyes that don’t blur when the wind hits just right. So he doesn’t go out much anymore. Not unless the group is short. Not unless they really need him.

It makes sense. He knows it makes sense.

That doesn’t make it feel right. You out there, miles away in knee-deep snow with a rifle strapped to your back while he’s stuck here. Not out there. Not beside you.

Joel knows you can handle yourself—hell, you’ve proven that a dozen times over. You’re younger. Strong. Fast. Smart as a whip. You can shoot the cap off a beer bottle and you handle a knife better than most people your age.

Knowing all that still doesn’t quiet the feeling of unease that eats away at him each time you strap on your gear and kiss him goodbye with a, See you later, Miller. Strolling out the door like it’s casual. Like it’s nothing.

There’s a kind of helpless fury in it. A sick twist in his gut every time he watches you ride out. Like he’s some retired goddamn hunting dog. Trusted to guard the porch, but not sharp enough to run with the pack anymore.

Joel adjusts the volume dial on the radio like it’ll make your voice stay longer.

Tommy’s laugh cuts through the speaker. “Didn’t cry. I got snow in my eye.”

“In July? Sure.”

It comes in grainy and light, full of that same teasing bite you always give Tommy—enough to make Joel’s jaw tighten with a quiet, helpless kind of fondness. He almost smiles, but it doesn’t reach past the tight pull in his chest. You’re still picking your way through territory where any tree line might be hiding something.

Joel shifts in his seat, elbows on the table, jaw clenched tight. He tells himself you’re fine. You always are. You have to be.

The channel goes still for a few beats. Then, a crack of static. Some muffled shuffling. And—

“Wait—something’s moving in the trees. Left side, just past the ridge.”

Your voice. Sharper now. Less teasing and pointedly quiet.

“Copy,” Tommy replies, suddenly serious. “Keep eyes on—”

A burst of noise. A flurry of panicked voices overlapping and shouts. The unmistakable sound of gunfire.

Then nothing.

Dead air.

Joel’s heart drops to his boots. “Tommy?” he barks into the receiver. “Come in. What the hell’s happening out there?”

When there’s no answer, Joel shoots to his feet. The chair scrapes across the floor harshly as he crosses the room in two large strides, fumbling for his jacket. “Tommy? Goddammit, someone answer me!”

Nothing.

Joel’s heart thuds violently against his ribcage as he stares at the little black box in his hand like it’s an omen. He feels it rush in all at once—panic, guilt, helpless rage curling cold and mean in his chest. His ears are ringing so loud he doesn’t hear the slam of the door behind him as he tears out of the house and into the cold air.

Something happened. The group was compromised. You were compromised.

And he’s not there.

He should’ve been there.

Joel doesn’t remember the sprint to the stables. Doesn’t remember shouting at Maria when she tried to stop him at the gate. Doesn’t remember half the ride out. All he knows is that his hands won’t stop shaking around the reins and the bile in his throat tastes like ash—a sick, gnawing pit growing in his gut.

When he finds the group what feels like hours later, just as the sun starts to rise behind the ridgeline—you’re nowhere to be found. His eyes scan the way everyone’s spread out, some with minor injuries and the others patching them up.

No sign of you.

Tommy plants himself in front of Joel just as he hauls himself off his horse. He doesn’t even feel the way his knees jolt as his feet hit the ground.

“Where the hell is she?” he rasps, voice so rough it sounds like it’s been dragged through gravel. “Where, Tommy?”

Tommy’s hands are out in front of him like Joel’s a wild animal about to snap. He’s got blood on his hands, but no signs of stab wounds or bullet holes anywhere on him. It’s not his blood. Joel’s stomach turns viciously at the sight, at the thought of whose it might be.

“She’s fine,” Tommy says, eyes wide and placating. “Took a hit, it grazed her side. She wouldn’t fuckin’ stay down.”

Joel knows he won’t feel any relief until he sees you, alive and breathing with his own eyes. “Where.”

Tommy steps aside just before Joel nearly shoves past him, nodding his head toward a rock outcrop a ways away from everyone else.

You’re sitting closest to the makeshift fire, Jesse crouched beside you to clean the gash along your side. You’re bundled in someone else’s coat, hair mussed and blood soaked through your undershirt and spattered across your cheeks.

Visibly shaken. Color drained. Bloody. Alive.

Joel’s throat locks up when your eyes meet his. You give him the smallest, tired smile—like you're trying to reassure him. That look. That stupid, brave little tilt of your mouth like everything's okay even when you're the one bleeding through Tommy's jacket.

It makes something in his chest crack wide open.

“Joel?”

He doesn’t speak.

Doesn’t know what to say.

Doesn’t trust himself for it to be anything good.

Joel takes three shaky steps towards you before his knees give out.

He drops hard into the snow. He doesn’t catch himself, doesn’t try. Just falls forward like a penitent man bowing at the altar of a God he doesn’t believe in. His breath comes in short, ragged bursts, eyes locked onto the red seeping through your shirt like it's the only color in the whole damn world.

There’s a beat where nobody moves. Jesse freezes, half-done wrapping gauze, and you’re just sitting there, wide-eyed and shaking like a leaf, lips parted like you’re trying to say something—but Joel’s already reaching for you.

He's on you in the next breath. Not rough, not like usual, not with that greedy, hungry touch he normally has after you come back from patrol. His hands are trembling when they find your face, tilting your chin up gently, his fingers brushing away wet blood and dirt.

Tommy glances away. Jesse too, both men busying themselves with helping the others. It feels too private, even out here in the open.

“Goddammit,” he chokes. “God—baby–”

His voice breaks on the last word. Breaks, something sharp and gutted and boyish, nothing like the hardened man who's grown to guard his emotions like they’re classified. Your hands hover uncertainty over his shoulders, the side of his face. You’re worried. He can see it plain as day, written in the wavering line of your mouth.

“Hey—hey, I’m okay,” you say, voice low and urgent. “I’m fine. Look at me, Joel, I’m fine. It just—it just grazed me, okay? I’m fine.”

You’re not fine.

You’re too pale. You’re stone-cold. Your blood is still tacky on your shirt, drying beneath his body's warmth.

Joel presses his forehead to yours and exhales like he’s been kept underwater, and you were the surface he’d been clawing to.

You whisper his name again, quieter this time, and he shushes you. “Don’t—don’t talk, just—let me—” His fingers press to the pulse point at your wrist like he still needs proof. “Let me feel you.”

You don’t say anything else.

You just hold him.

And Joel doesn’t cry. He can’t. Something won’t let him, but he stays there in the snow for a long time, holding you like a man who thought he’d never get the chance to again.

The ride back to Jackson is quiet.

You fell asleep half-way through, head lolling back against Joel’s shoulder as you both sat in the saddle, your body loose with exhaustion and the emergency pain meds Jesse had in his pack. Tommy rides ahead, checking the trail, but Joel barely looks up. He just holds the reins with one hand and holds you tighter with the other.

You’re taken to the infirmary the second everyone files through the gates. Joel sits by your bedside in stormy silence, hands curled into fists and resting on his knees, the only thing keeping him together.

You talk to the nurse on duty. You even joke with her, cracked voice and tired eyes like it’s all part of the routine. Like getting shot is just another part of the job. And Joel sits there while someone else wraps you in new bandages and checks your vitals.

It makes his blood boil.

All he can think about is the way your voice cut out on the radio. The way he didn’t know if you were dead or bleeding out in some field, alone. And now you’re laughing. Now you’re telling the nurse, “I’m fine really, just sore.” And it makes him want to tear the whole fucking clinic apart.

Joel doesn’t say a word until you're cleared to leave.

Not on the short walk back to your house. Not when you’re walking through the door, cleaned up. Patched. Your shirt’s gone, replaced by his coat and a thermal blanket around your shoulders.

Not when you nudge his arm gently like you’re testing the waters. Not when you say his name soft, like it might keep him calm before you’re heading towards the bedroom.

It doesn’t.

The moment the door shuts behind him, Joel erupts.

“You got a fuckin’ death wish?”

You freeze in your spot halfway across the room, turning to face him.

Joel doesn’t move. Just stands there, fists clenched at his sides. His voice is low, shaking with barely concealed rage. “You gonna tell me why you thought playin’ saviour was worth bleedin’ out in the snow?”

You don’t say anything for a few beats, eyebrows drawn together in a hard frown as you look at him. “What was I supposed to do, Joel? Jesse was pinned, Tommy would’ve taken the hit. I didn’t have a choice.”

“You always have a choice!” Joel grates, stepping towards you. “You could’ve picked you. You could’ve stayed the fuck down like Tommy told you to.”

“I was trying to keep your brother from getting shot in the head,” you snap, the tension finally striking a flint. “I made a judgment call.”

“You made a stupid call,” he spits, voice loud and blistering. “You don’t get to do that.”

“I didn’t have a choice,” you repeat, your body growing stiff and tense.

“You shoulda fuckin’ stayed down.” Joel growls. He doesn’t even look at you when he says it—just rips his flannel off, tosses it hard at the wall.

You don’t flinch. Don’t even look away from him as his shirt falls and crumples into a heap on the floor. “What?”

“You heard me,” he snaps, turning to look at you again. His eyes are dark, fiery. “Jesus, you—do you even fuckin’ think sometimes? You were hit. You knew you were hit, and you kept goin’. You didn’t stop, didn’t stay down like you were told.”

He steps closer, eyes boring into yours, face twisted with something too furious to be rational. “You fuckin’ chose to be a goddamn hero, huh? Run into gunfire like it ain’t a fuckin’ death sentence? That it?”

He can see the second your expression changes, your own anger rearing its ugly head now, bitter and hot. “Don’t do that. Don’t make this about me being reckless when you know I was just trying to keep people alive. I did what I had to do.”

“No!” he snaps, pointing a finger at you, furious and stricken all at once. “What you had to do was come home. That’s it. That’s all.”

You blink at him, breath caught in your throat.

Joel can’t stop, all the emotions he’s been dealt over the past three hours finally boiling over and spilling through his lips before he can think twice about what he’s saying.

“You could’ve died,” he growls, pacing now, hands dragging through his hair roughly like he’s trying to rip the anger out of himself. “Two fuckin’ inches to the left and that bullet would’ve torn straight through your gut. You think you’d’ve made it to town in time for that? Huh?”

“That’s not fair.”

“No,” he snarls, spinning on you, voice cracking. “It’s not fuckin’ fair. Nothin’ about this is. You go out there, and I sit at home waitin’ to see if today’s the day I lose you. That the last thing I heard is your voice cuttin’ out in the middle of a fuckin’ ambush. That’s what I got to live with now. That’s what I saw every time I closed my eyes on that ride back.”

You stand there, lost for words. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

“I know you didn’t,” Joel says, suddenly quieter, throat thick. He swallows hard, looking down, shaking his head like he’s trying to get a grip. “But I still almost lost you. And I don’t—fuck—I don’t know what the hell I’d do if that ever—”

His voice cuts off, ragged. Then he’s in front of you again, cupping your face with both hands. “You’re not allowed to do that to me again,” he whispers fiercely. “You’re not allowed to scare me like that.”

“Joel…” You lean into him, slow. Cautious.

Joel meets you halfway.

His mouth is on yours in a heartbeat—hot and bruising and pathetically desperate. His big hands frame your face, thumbs dragging down your cheekbones as he licks a wet stripe over the plush seam of your lips.

You gasp into his mouth when he pushes the blanket off your shoulders, when his palms skate down your sides to grip your hips hard. Not too rough, not yet, but he’s holding you because he needs you rooted. Anchored. Here.

Joel kisses you like he’s still furious at you, like he hates how much he needs you, like he’s punishing you for making him feel so afraid. It’s not soft, all teeth and tongue as he devours you, stealing the breath from your lungs.

When he pulls back, his mouth is wet with your spit, lips pink and swollen. “Need to taste you,” he mutters. “Need to feel you.”

Joel sinks to his knees before you can respond, breath huffing harshly against your stomach. His fingers tug your zipper down with frantic urgency, hooking his thumbs in your waistband to peel your pants down your legs in one swift motion.

There’s no teasing. No smugness. Just a heavy, sharp hunger carved into his face like stone as he pulls your panties to the side, exposing you to his greedy eyes. His hands slide under your thighs, lifting one over his shoulder as he brings his mouth to you like a man possessed.

The first drag of his tongue is slow. Reverent. Hot and wet as he parts the slick seam of your cunt with deliberate strokes that make your spine arch. He groans like your taste knocks the wind out of him, and then he latches on like he’s got a point to prove—to himself or you, he’s not sure. All he knows is that worshipping you is the only penance that could soothe the panic still clawing at his insides.

“Joel.” Your hands tangle in his hair, chin falling to your chest as you gaze down at him.

He sucks your clit into his mouth, tongue relentless, nose pressed deep against you. You whimper, twisting his hair in your grip, hips twitching—Joel doesn’t let you go anywhere. He’s got you trapped, your body pinned with his mouth buried between your thighs like he plans to die there.

It’s filthy, obscene—the way he devours you. Lips slick, beard growing damper with each swirl of his tongue, eyes half-lidded but still trained on your own.

Your eyes are glassy, pupils blown wide and black as spilled ink. There’s sweat beaded on your brow, lips parted and swollen as you let out small huffs of air.

Your thighs are trembling. You're soaked, arching against him, whimpering his name with tears welling in your eyes. And still—still—he won’t let up. He needs this. Needs to make you fall apart. Needs to prove to himself you’re alive by the way your body sings under his touch.

Joel can’t stop. Not until your thighs shake and you’re moaning that you’re gonna come, gonna come, Joel, please—

And you do. You fall apart on his tongue with a broken sob, legs clenching tight around his ears, hips grinding down into his mouth in weak twitches and shudders. He growls and holds you still, licking you through every last tremor until your body goes limp and threatens to sink to the floor.

Joel doesn’t let you fall—he lowers you down gently, like you’re made of spun glass, even as his hands skirt over the hem of your shirt. When he pulls it up, revealing the bandages wound tight around your side, he pauses. His gaze lingers on the wound. Jaw clenched. Something soft and wrecked flickers in his eyes.

Your hand comes up to cup the side of his face, your thumb running over the scar across his temple so gently it has his heart throbbing in his chest. “I’m okay,” you whisper. “Still here.”

Joel takes your wrist in his hand, lowering it down enough to press it hard over his heart. “You feel that?” he breaths. “That hasn’t stopped hammerin’ since I heard your voice cut out.”

You nod slowly. Your fingers curl into his shirt. “I’m sorry.”

Joel squeezes your wrist, turning his head to press a soft kiss to your forearm.

He climbs up over you, chest to chest—the jut of his cock where it tents the denim of his jeans grinds over the sensitive span of your cunt as he settles himself between your legs. He’s thick, heavy even through all the layers.

Joel’s free hand snakes down his body, making quick work of his belt. He rips his zipper down, freeing his cock from the confines of his soaked boxers and letting it slap up against his stomach.

You moan at the sight of it—hard, straining, the tip a dusty red and wet with pre-come. Your legs widen unconsciously, thighs twitching on either side of Joel’s hips.

Joel takes himself in his hand, fist tight over the base of his cock as he runs himself through your puffy cunt, slicking the skin of his cock with your wetness. “Gonna fuck you,” he breathes, lining himself up between your legs. “Gonna feel you around me, baby, need it so damn bad.”

Joel slides in with one long, smooth stroke, your slick making it easy, and the groan he lets out sounds like pain. Like relief. Like he might lose his mind from the heat of you. Your breath hitches at the stretch, head lolling back against the hardwood as your nails dig into his shoulders.

“Mine,” he grits through his teeth, forehead pressed to yours, his hips grinding deeper as you cling to him. “You’re mine, baby. Always—always mine.”

You nod, panting, eyes glassy. “All yours,” you whisper. “Only yours, Joel.”

And then he moves.

Hard.

Desperate.

Unrelenting.

He fucks you like you’re the only thing tethering him to earth, like if he stops, he’ll unravel entirely. One arm hooks under your knee, pushing you open, deeper than before. His hips slap against yours, raw and hopelessly, but it’s not about getting off.

It’s about feeling you.

Every squeeze, every tremble, every gasp that leaves your mouth when he hits that perfect spot.

Joel’s never felt like this before.

So angry.

So scared.

So in love.

He fucks you like he’s trying to imprint himself inside your body. His thrusts stitch you back to him, sealing you inside his chest so you can never leave. A mess of skin-on-skin and heat and slick as the two of you meet again and again and again.

“Could’ve lost you,” he growls against your throat. “Fuck, honey, I could’ve—Jesus—”

You wrap your arms around him. “You didn’t,” you whisper. “I’m here, Joel—I’m yours—”

He groans, hips stuttering, thrusts turning frantic. He can tell he’s close, that he’s been close since he sank to his knees in front of you.

“Say it again,” he pants, slamming into you with a low, wrecked noise. “Say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” you gasp. “Always yours—fuck, Joel—”

You wrap your arms tighter around him, pulling him closer. Your nails dig into his skin through the thin layer of his undershirt, legs locking around his waist to keep him pressed against you like you’re scared he’ll let go.

Joel doesn’t let go. He’d never let go. Not even when you moan his name like a prayer, not even when your nails rake down his back, not even when you gasp out a warning, your voice thin and needy. “Joel, I—gonna—”

“I know, baby. I got you.” His hand snakes down between you, finding your clit and rubbing quick circles over it, desperate to feel you come. “Wanna feel you. Need to—fuck—need to feel you, sweetheart. Please.”

You shatter in his arms with a broken sob, clenching hard around him as your body jerks, overwhelmed and too raw to hide it. Joel feels you pulse around his cock, the tight warmth of your cunt milking him.

It’s too much, and he’s coming with a groan that sounds like it’s been clawed from his chest. He buries himself to the hilt, hips jerking with every pulse, breath catching in your ear. “Fuck, fuck—” he pants, voice hoarse, “—love you, I love you, I thought I lost you, baby, I can’t…”

You’re both trembling when it ends.

Joel holds you there for a long time, forehead resting against yours, still buried deep inside you. He still won’t let you go. Not yet.

Eventually, when he’s calmed, he pulls back just enough to look at you.

You expect that same look from earlier—rage, fear, guilt—but it’s not there. Just love. Just deep, aching relief.

“I can’t lose you,” he says quietly. “I wouldn’t survive it.”

You reach up, trace the curve of his brow, the edge of his jaw. “You won’t have to,” you whisper.

Joel kisses you again. Softer this time. Sweeter. A delicate press of lips against lips. His fingers stroke your cheek, pulling back enough for his eyes to trace along your face. He follows the line of your brows, the shape of your nose, the soft curve of your lips.

He can’t feel anything other than love.

Gentle. Solid. Steady.

It’s only love.

mini nat's note: everyone please send good vibes for my hell sent ch*m final on monday...i literally need all the luck i can get. thank you so much for reading! mwah.

2K notes · View notes

eraserbread · 3 months ago

Note

Pleaseeeee, I'm begging you.... I need to know how Nanami react when his wife finally tell him she's pregnant and his not crazy this whole time.

click 4 context :)

nanami swears he's never seen you eat deep-fried... anything. it wasn't that you weren't keen; it just never fell into your lap. whenever you two ate outside of home, you found yourself walking hand-in-hand through the doors of your favorite hole-in-the-wall ramen shop.

but, tonight, you begged him. nearly cried with a jutted lip for something you never had, but doom-scrolled past on social media.

now you're sitting in front of him, back straight as an arrow as you uncharacteristically shovel steaming-hot slices of gyukatsu between your glossed lips.

he watches you hardly, flicking his eyes every few moments to catch the way your lips shake, or how you do that stupid little happy dance when you get the perfect bite. he's tending to his curried rice, eating slowly—your exact opposite. he smiles to himself, letting the table remain quiet with your content hums until you bite your tongue and whine out.

"slow down, my love." he speaks after swallowing his bite, leaning back. he can see the slight flush heading across your familiar neck as you react to his buttery voice.

"i'm so sorry. how impolite of me."

"well, i don't care much. just don't want you to burn or... bite yourself further." he nodding towards the sizzling hot stone just in your reach—a dangerous pairing with your eagerness.

flushed under fluttering gold lighting, kento swears you're beaming just a bit stronger. there's a tint to your cheeks that isn't usually there, a gleam that didn't exist until a month ago. he furrows his eyebrows.

"don't stare!"

"thank you for indulging me tonight." you smile as he bends at the knee to remove your shoes at your doorway. you're leaning a hand on the frame, body and mind full of wagyu and kento. "I know you've had a long day at work."

"long day or not, when you tell me you want something..." he pauses, grunting as he stands. "I listen. always. well, most likely."

you giggle, reaching up to hold the back of his neck. the small buzz of his undercut feels fuzzy and familiar—like home. "you're a good husband."

you don't notice, but kento does. the small lisp you give him in speech—he knows it's from your bruised tongue—he hums. "does it hurt a lot? your poor tongue?"

shaking your head, you're smiling. "no... yes... a little bit."

"may I see?" he's so close to you that his words bounce off of your lips like smog—so salty and warm. you nod immediately, always letting him in. "open up."

you're giggling again. "yes, sir." then you keep them parted, dropping your jaw so he can see inside of your warm mouth. you can hear his breathing in the closeness, the drag of his voice against his vocal cords as he inspects.

it's when he presses his finger against the side of your tongue, does it hit you. a debilitating, familiar wave of dizziness. then, you're weak and dipping, knees falling.

right before kento catches you with a single-arm hold on your back, he doesn't make a sound, but the look on his face is terrified. "nanami? are you okay? can you stand?"

it takes you a moment to focus, but his words make it easier. you shake your head, gently. "must've been the exertion."

"why don't you go sit? i'll bring you something, would you like tea?"

"i would love it. thank you."

so, he trusts your balance, but he lets you go like he's nervous. it's only to walk to the couch, but it seems as if you just can't catch your footing. then, you stall and lean to the side—he rushes you, sweeping you up in a cradle.

"no. straight to bed."

"i'm sorry." you whine, burying your head in the pillow when he places you on the mattress.

"i'm calling the doctor now. i've never seen you like this." he's keeping his promise in his perfect timing, scrolling through his contact list with a shaking head. you're staring up at him in horror, heart hammering in your chest, because you don't need a doctor. you know what's wrong.

"n-no, please don't... it's so late."

"doctors take call just like i do." then, he finds it, and just before his thumb presses that shiny green 'call now' button, you're stuffing your face into the pillow, letting it muffle your breathing.

"i'm pregnant." you whine into the fluff, hands twisted tight in the material. you hope he can't hear you, but it's far too late to take it back.

"hm?" kento heard you. crystal fucking clear. but, he's doing that unsure little eyebrow cock, thumb shaking as it hovers over his phone. "what?" he repeats.

"p-pregnant... i'm pregnant." it feels like lava pouring from your soul, so white-hot and shameful, because you've been hiding it for well over two months.

he scoffs, putting his phone down and burying his forehead in his big hand. there's a smirk there—very slight. you don't see it. "ah, well... yes, I suppose that explains it... all."

"please don't be mad at me, it's your fault."

"mine? how?"

"if you just..." you're still talking into the pillow, letting it do the heavy lifting. "you're always on top of me; it's like I can't keep you away."

kento laughs again, it's the most joyless sound that sparks so much within you. he nods, then sits down right next to you, smoothing a hand over the swell of your hips. "if it were possible to choose, i'd like to die on top of you—or inside of you."

"not funny." you're on the verge of tears, feeling the hormonal angst hit you like a ton of bricks.

kento clicks his teeth, then pushes your shoulder to get your flushed face free. "I wasn't trying to be... look, I am not mad-the direct opposite, actually." he's whispering, tracing that hand over your face. you're so warm, so free, now. "I am so happy. relieved that it wasn't something else, too."

"but i'm so scared."

"that's okay. so am i... both happy and scared and relieved; in love with you, your ways, and your spirit." that hand trails back down your side, then it rests right over your lower stomach, thumb rubbing across the covered skin. "and this little one we created together." when he presses, he can feel the firmness that wasn't usually there. "I don't think we will be very good at first, but i'd like it very much if we taught each other how to be the gentlest parents possible."

now, you're crying. it's falling in waves and buckets, snotting up your pillow and eliciting embarrassing sounds from your throat. you're kicking your feet, so built up and unsure where to expel it. "whyyyy," you sob, reaching to twist your smaller fist in his shirt. "why would you say that to me? I'm gonna explode—it's so-

"what are you talking about?" he cuts you off, cradling your clenched fist to his chest. he really just wants to wipe those tears away and make love, but he's kind of... afraid. you'll probably bite him just like your tongue.

"when you talk to me like that... it's so... i can feel it."

"hm... do you think our baby can feel it? i wonder if she can hear us."

"she? i feel like it's a boy."

"no." he whispers, shaking his head, and so sweetly purrs, "definitely a girl."

#currently standing at the edge of a cliff #abt to jump because WHY ISN'T HE REAL #i wrote him SO REAL just come to me already KENTO #DON'T PMO.. i know you're in there #.nanami <3 #.the wife guy!! <3 #.favs :o #eraserasks #jjk x reader #jjk fanfic #nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento #jjk nanami #nanami fluff #nanami fanfic

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lainloves · 6 months ago

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BABY FEVER?!

Pairing; TRAFALGAR LAW X FEM! READER

;; FLUFF FLUFF FLUFFFF!

Synopsis; headcanons with law and a pregnant s/o. And a few with his baby.

;; AFTER ONE year of posting a single fanfic, I am back. Writers block killed me so bad :`(

➜ when he found out you were pregnant, it was like he got hit with a thousand bullets. He just stood there while you tinkered with your hair as he looked at you with wide eyes and his jaw hanging open as he dropped his book.

➜ SUPPERRR affectionate, he likes to look out for you everyday especially since you're pregnant he does his best to protect you from enemies and potential threats that want to hurt you.

➜ Being the doctor of the heart pirates, he gives you proper check-ups and checks on you daily to see how you are.

➜ everytime he's alone with you he always hugs your belly or when you're sleeping he talks to your pregnant tummy.

"Be good to your mom okay?" Law said while he laid down next to you, sleeping peacefully as he looked down at the large protruding belly as his tattooed fingers wrapped around your stomach, he was smitten with his unborn child. He'll give anything to make his baby happy once they popped out their mother. "Stop kicking her so much," he hummed. When you silently observed the conversation with closed eyes, it's almost sweet that he does this every night. "I'm still awake, law." You softly said when law's ears turned into a darker shade of red when he huffed. "I think it's cute, Y'know?" You smiled, putting your palm over his.

➜ Loves spoiling you, even when he acts all snobby..In the end when you ask for him to give you a massage on the shoulders he'll give them.

➜ Always pesters you if you ate breakfast, lunch, or dinner.

➜ he gets super mad when you carry something heavy or do any workload, he's completely put you off any chores to do since you had a special case growing inside you, cleaning duty was now in shachi’s hands. Even if he didn't wanna— but he couldn't complain since law might just extend it further.

➜ Whenever you two shop for baby items, he picks out one that was super cute, and if not he sews the heart pirates’ jolly roger on his baby's onesies and beanie's. It was the cutest thing ever.

➜ during labor, law was the one to perform the delivery and as he holds his baby he felt like all his problems washed away.

➜ he's definitely a girl dad.

➜ He's willing to survive the midnight cries, and the diaper changes.

➜ Sometimes law is afraid because he's got a big bounty on his head, he gets really nervous thinking about it. What if his baby or you were used against him? He can't bear to experience that.

➜ ALWAYYSSS is so protective of his baby, whenever someone tries to look at his child he will give them the stink eye.

"aw your baby is so cute!" A lady said when law was walking down the busy streets of the new island they docked in to restock on supplies. "How old is she?" The lady asked. "4 months." Law said, when the lady tried to pinch his daughter he immediately backed away. "Um, yeah.." law said, "oh— I'm sorry. Am I not allowed?" She asked. Law just shakes his head indicating he doesn't wanna, since her hands were dirty and didn't want them to get in his precious baby's cheek.

➜ He will do everything in his power to give his daughter the world, he doesn't want his baby, his precious little girl or boy to go through what he went through as a kid.

I have unfinished stories in my drafts, I might post more :3

#trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar law x y/n #trafalgar law x reader #fem reader #law x reader #one piece x reader #one piece #one piece headcanons #law x you #x fem!reader #one piece fanfiction #y/n #fluff

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theycallmecholemiri · 18 days ago

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Headcanons about each Huntrix member

First up, our leader Rumi 💜

-She is the most followed member on all social media platforms

-barley post cause her phone overheats from all the likes

-Last time she tried to do a live on Insta it crashed the app and her phone

-Her hair routine is a government-level secret; Zoey still hasn't figured out what she uses

-keeps every fan letter she ever received(yes even the one from 2019 with sparkles)

-writes poems about Jinu in her notes app at 3AM and refuses for anyone to see them

-is no longer allowed to drive ANYWHERE for personal reasons

-Is actually the oldest (23), but no one ever guesses that—everyone assumes it’s Mira 😭

Next up is our choreographer Mira 💖

-Been dying to get a tattoo but hasn't because the record label said "absolutely not"

-is a world-renowned model and has been in too many fashion shows to count

-showing up to the Met Gala with a sleeping bag was planned, she just didn't expect for it to go viral though

-hates when people lie, she would much rather get mad at the truth instead

-Sometimes joins Zoey insta lives to cause more chaos(then pretends that she wasn't on live)

-has a burner account on insta that she swears no one knows about(both Rumi and Zoey follow her on there)

-somehow the best cook out of all of them

-Is the certified driver if they have to go anywhere

-She’s 21 and absolutely the “calm older sister”—until she isn’t.

Finally, our Maknae Zoeyyy!!💛

-she posts the most on her social media

-usually gets in trouble for going live at terrible moments like when mira and rumi argue

-does rap battles for fun with her fans

-has a drawer full of half-used notebooks, including:

Mira quotes that deserve an Oscar, and ‘Number of times Rumi cried over Jinu this week (updated daily)

-Does TikTok's dances with Bobby and somehow they usually go viral

-Also not allowed to touch the steering wheel, Mira usually just goes "zozo belt on now" in the coldest voice ever, which always works 98% of the time

-Hosted a fake "late night talk show" on her IG stories called “Zoey After Dark”

-She may be the youngest (19), but she has random moments of wisdom that hit like a truck

Group headcanons (cause I said so) 💅🏽

-The girls all have a self-care day that includes lots of face masks, gossip about other K-pop groups, and catching up on K-dramas

-Their group chat name changes every week: ➤ Zoey STOP Going Live → Huntrix Anonymous (We’re Not Okay) → Jinu Said WHAT Now??? → and most recently: Please No One Flirt During Dance Practice 😭

-If one of them cries, all of them cry. Once it happened on stage and they had to take a 5-minute intermission(blame a surprise fan project + Jinu smiling at Rumi in the VIP section)

-Rumi and Mira get weirdly competitive during photo shoots (Zoey records everything and adds TikTok music)

-There’s a “Who’s the Most Famous Today?” whiteboard in their penthouse. Mira wins when a Vogue article drops, Rumi when a quote goes viral, Zoey when she sneezes on TikTok.

-They once had a “no romance for a month” pact. Rumi broke it in 2 days when she blushed at a Jinu post. Zoey documented the downfall in a TikTok trilogy.

-Rumi leaves the group chat every time Mira and Zoey tease her about Jinu. They always add her back in. Every. Single. Time.

OKKKKK that's all I have for now. Keep streaming the movie and a03 writers, PLZ UPDATE UR FANFICS. I'm on my knees. OK BYEEEEEE(in Eda voice) 🩷💜💛.

#kpop demon hunters #mira kpdh #rumi kpdh #zoey kpdh #kpdh #huntrix #rumi x jinu #sony #rumi kpop demon hunters #mira kpop demon hunters #zoey kpop demon hunters #rujinu #netflix animation #sony animation #headcanon #i need to get paid #2 posts in 1 day is insane work

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xomakara · 3 months ago

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Love On The Floor

SUMMARY | You're on vacation with your girls and you can't help but be attracted to the hot DJ.

PAIRINGS | Johnny x Reader

RATING | Mature, NSFW, EXPLICIT, MDNI, 18+, Any Minors and Ageless Blogs will be blocked

GENRE | smut, non-idol au

CONTENT/WARNINGS | DJ!Johnny, profanity, drinking, non-idol au, flirting, kissing, teasing, unprotective sex (wrap it up ya’ll!), outdoor sex, beach sex, fingering, marking, hair grabbing, riding, creampies, lots of dirty talk

LENGTH | 10,545 words

TAGLIST | @lovetaroandtaemin @aerangi

NETWORKS | @k-vanity @ksmutsociety @keopihaus @neocity-net @cosyhomenet

AUTHOR’S NOTE | What was supposed to be a 2k fic ended up being a 10k fic lolol. I couldn't help it… DJ Johnny has got me feral.

NCT Main Masterlist

The beat pulsed through the outside venue as bodies moved together to the rhythm of the music, a sea of flailing arms, flowing dresses, and brightly colored alcohol in cups. The vacation resort was well known for its beach-side night parties that happened every evening, allowing people to dance all their cares away. It was a famous tourist destination, the huge tropical beach allowing its patrons to soak up the sunshine in the daytime, and then dance their heart away by the bright lights of the nighttime party. The whole island seemed to thrum with energy, the atmosphere electric from the beating rhythm of the dance music and the delighted cries from the partygoers.

"Earth to Y/N!"

Your attention turned to your friend as you realizedd that she was trying to get your attention.

"Oops," you laughed and smiled at her. "Sorry, just zoned out for a sec. Got distracted." You couldn't help your wandering gaze that took in the mass amount of scantily-clad girls writhing their hips against muscular, shirtless men. "This is so different from what I'm used to."

Mira raised an eyebrow, clearly in good spirits after already taking several shots. "I know this isn't your usual scene but the girls and I thought that you should stop moping over your breakup with Taeyong and actually have some fun! Go hit up on a guy or something, get your freak on."

You playfully punched Mira. "He wasn't like the rest, you know?"

You looked down sadly. He had been a gentle soul and treated you right; you still weren't sure why he had cheated. It had hit you hard and your friends thought that a change of pace was needed. A vacation to relax and let loose was exactly what was needed, a way to let go of the stress and have fun.

"Look Y/N, you've been moping over him for four months already," Jinhee started. "You're here, on vacation in a tropical paradise surrounded by sexy guys who have their shirts off, showing off their chests," she fanned herself and looked off into the distance dreamily, "and gorgeous smiles andー"

"Calm your tits," Sowon jokingly hit Jinhee lightly. She looks back at you, pushing your usual drink closer to you. "Babe, we love you and want to see you happy again. Not cry over some guy who can't even tell you why he cheated."

"We're not telling you to date someone tonight, but just forget about him and live a little, ok?" Mira finished.

You bit your bottom lip and thought, staring out into the night as you considered her words. You loved Taeyong, more than anything. You had hoped for a future together; the wedding, the children, the big family holidays and birthdays... but it was all shattered, left lying in tatters after your suspicions were confirmed with the one simple sentence, "I can explain."

He couldn't.

After many arguments, broken tears and broken hearts later, you both parted ways. You thought you truly loved him, that he was your soulmate. He had made it clear to you how sorry he had been and wanted you to take him back. But your heart wouldn't let you go back, the pain from his betrayal being too raw and it left you aching. You threw yourself into work since then, finding solace in your research and volunteering. And so, for the past few months, the cycle continued: work, work, sleep, work. It was nice and constant, but this is where the girls came in and saved your life from boredom.

"Live a little, huh?" you questioned, fingers wrapped around the stem of the cocktail glass, twisting it absentmindedly before you took another sip. You took another look around the outdoor venue. The night sky stretched endlessly above you, twinkling with tiny stars, framed by palm trees and colorful banners. The smell of liquor, sweat, and body odor mingled with the scent of the warm evening air. Huge, bright speakers blasted music as the mass amount of bodies continued their movements, flashing their lights as they danced.

Mira was right. This wasn't your scene. You preferred the fancy lounge bars, expensive wine, soft spoken conversations and live jazz bands to accompany them. A place where you felt secure, safe, and comfortable. This place was raw, open, exposed. No fancy tables, chairs or bar. Just an open dance floor, large speakers, and drinks on the sand.

The bass hummed through your feet as it shook the ground. No one was fully dressed; the girls had on skimpy little dresses, the men wore brightly coloured swim trunks and shirtless. Heck, the air of arousal was so thick you could probably choke on it. You had seen several couples making out, feeling each other up or grinding their groins together out of the corner of your eyes. You licked your lips nervously as the alcohol coursed through your veins, heating you up from the inside.

"Come on Y/N! I love this song, let's dance!" Jinhee put her hands on her hips and pouted at you.

"Dancing is not really my thing..." you protested.

"It will be soon!" she winked and grabbed your arm.

You shrugged. There was nothing better to do, and you had finished your drink, feeling braver now that it was gone. You threw the last shot down the back of your throat, shuddering when the liquid burnt its way down your body and you accepted Jinhee's hand, pulling you close as you threaded through the crowd of warm bodies towards the floor. You tried not to bump into anyone, muttering small sorries to those you did.

The girls pushed onto the dance floor, joining the fray and all linking arms together, facing outward. You giggled with giddy pleasure as Sowon and Mira pulled you in between them, each placing a hand on your hip, making your senses sing with delight from the alcohol and the atmosphere. Your friends swung you around, moving you like puppets in a full costume, keeping perfect time to the music. You threw your hands up and laughed joyously, allowing them to take the lead as you simply kept up, moving your body against theirs.

You swayed your hips, letting loose and deciding to just feel.

Tonight, you're going to live a little.

And maybe find a cute guy and have some fun like your girls suggested, despite whatever happens afterwards.

Just enjoy the moment, they told you.

Alcohol flowing, the music blasting, and the lights blinding, time was simply lost to the ether and soon enough you could feel yourself being warm, happy, and buzzing. All nerves had melted away, drowned under the intoxication of the strong alcohol and being surrounded by friendly, loving people.

Time blurred and seemed to stop altogether when you caught the first sight of him.

Situated at the DJ booth with a set of mixer decks and a laptop at his disposal was a large, muscular man. Dark hair framing his beautifully sculpted face, his huge frame was decked in dark jeans and a gray muscle tank, effortlessly displaying his biceps, muscular chest, and torso. Tattoos adorned his left shoulder and arms, but you couldn't make them out as they were blurry from the angle. From the intense look of concentration, he sported a pair of large headphones over his ears while performing his set; however, every now and again you would catch him smiling from watching the sea of bodies bobbing their heads to his beats, bodies grinding as the songs melded together.

He caught your eye, taking in the spectacle that you and your friends presented. When he met your gaze, you felt electricity coursing through your veins, nerves flaring and the familiar pulsing sensation to the beat made itself known deep within your womb. And...was it just you, or did he look at you longer? Like he was admiring you as you got lost in his eyes; perhaps even took interest in you as you danced alongside the swarm of sweaty bodies that jerked and swayed to the music.

You snapped your head away. You were probably seeing things...

But you couldn't help it; your eyes drifted once more to the large hunk. Just dancing. Nothing else. Not with the way that his muscles moved smoothly when he tended to his equipment, the powerful biceps easily moving the tables. What would it be like to have his arms wrap around you, what would it be like to be pressed against those built pecs, those washboard abs, under his thick thighs as heー

You shivered at the thought. Alcohol. It had to be the alcohol.

"Oh my god," Mira started, "the DJ is so hot!"

"He's pretty cute and damn is he buff," Jinhee licked her lips. "With a body like that, the only chance I would give him is a ride up and down hisー"

"Finish that sentence, I dare you," Sowon raised an eyebrow daringly, a fierce grin creeping up her face and causing Jinhee to laugh nervously before she continued.

"What do you think, Y/N?" Mira looked at you eagerly, causing you to stare back surprised.

"Well..." You paused and hesitated slightly. "I mean, like, he is definitely very attractive, but..." Your cheeks burned and thoughts disappeared momentarily as your eyes locked with his, causing butterflies to awaken in your tummy. You looked away to see your group waiting expectantly for you to continue. You stuttered out, "But I don't know. He's probably already got a string of girls after him and I justー"

"Nope. Stop. Nuh-uh," Jinhee pointed a finger in front of you. "No second guessing. Tell us, would you fuck him?"

Your jaw dropped. "Oh come on."

"Answer the question, Y/N," Sowon pushed.

You chewed your bottom lip before sighing. "Oh god," you muttered, heart pounding in your chest. "Do I have to answer right now?"

"Yes!" all three chorused back at you.

You covered your face with your hands for a second before taking a deep breath. "Ok... yes." You looked down. "Yes, I would totally bang the shit out of him."

"YES! That's our girl!" Mira whooped before cheering loudly, raising her arms to the sky as she did so, the music and atmosphere causing her cheer to be swept away amongst the crowd. Sowon rolled her eyes as Jinhee patted you on the back in a show of congratulations, making you want to disappear. But you couldn't hide your crimson cheeks as embarrassment flushed through you.

The girls giggled happily and jumped around, continuing with their dancing. You hid your face in your hands before trying to lose yourself in the music once more.

Even though your gaze remained forward, you could still feel his eyes trailing on you.

Johnny looked out at the crowd moving and shifting as one when the beat dropped. All hands flew up, colored lights danced over everyone, making them glow under the spotlights that illuminated the darkened dance floor. It didn't matter if they were young or old, handsome or misshapen; the mass amount of bodies thrummed with pure energy. The crowd responded with another deafening cheer and cry in greeting as the beat switched over, Johnny mentally high-fiving himself for his excellent track selection.

While he enjoyed his job, the one thing he loved the most is seeing all the people have a good time because of his sets. And that moment, when the venue cheered and the dancers jumped up and down at their success in responding to the shift in the music, flooded his heart with pride.

Everyone was a dance master tonight, despite the drunken conditions. There weren't many fights and most seemed to be content with dancing the night away. And even the regular workers seemed to let their hair down and joined the fray, twirling to their hearts desire with wide, unabashed grins plastered across their faces.

It was the life.

"This set is so good!" The girl next to him gushed excitedly. "I'm absolutely loving it!"

He turned and smirked. Her hair was a long ash-blond, cascading down her shoulders. Heaps of glitter decorated her cheeks and forehead and skin-tight outfit that left little to the imagination. "Yeah?"

"Oh, for sure!" She spoke back, her attention focused more on his body than meeting his gaze. Her eyes dragged along the length of his body hungrily. "You should join me sometime."

He regarded her carefully. She was attractive, but frankly, it didn't feel right. "Tempting," he started. "But I can't."

"Pleaseeeee? I'd make sure you would have a great time," her lips curled into a lustful smile. "I would worship every single inch of you, baby. I would make you feel real good," she teased, pressing up against him.

He let out a sigh before looking at one of his friends that was working alongside him for the evening. They didn't need to speak a word. His buddy came to the rescue and steered the girl away from him towards the bar. The girl put up a bit of a struggle but once she noticed the handsome man beside her, her attention quickly switched and off she went.

He was used to it. Girls would throw themselves at him, not many cared about his skills and personality except for his music tastes, which usually sparked interesting conversations. Most only wanted a go with the big and muscular DJ who worked at the clubs, purely for sexual gain; to say they have done it, to slurp up the notoriety of bragging about their sexual exploits. Most usually bragged about who was better in bed, how quickly they could seduce him, or how big his dick was.

He shook his head with a sigh. He was a ladies' man, sure, but he was looking for more. One night stands were great, don't get him wrong, but he was looking for a lifelong love to spoil and cherish for eternity. To call his own, someone special to share his home, his music, his heart and soul.

He settled back behind the soundboard, adjusting the mix, scrolling through the folder of pre-downloaded songs while keeping an eye on the crowd. He couldn't help but glance at a particular group of girls as they joined the fray and a smile crept upon his features as they energetically turned away from each other and moved their hips to the music, finding a groove and sticking with it.

But one of the girls caught his eye, and he felt his dick twitch and pulse at the sight.

There was something about the girl that stood out.

She was really beautiful. He had seen his fair share of beautiful women, no doubt, but this girl was different. She wore her hair up in a bun, but it was messy, and several strands fell freely to frame her face. She dressed a bit more modest compared to the rest of the folks here with a flowy red spaghetti-strap sundress that drifted fluidly down past her knees. While her dress wasn't fully form-fitting, it still showed off the full curves of her breasts, wide hips and ample ass. Even from the distance of the stage, Johnny was able to pick up that the dress had ridden slightly up her thighs from all the swinging and twirling, exposing more of her smooth legs.

Even then, he was rather enticed by her actions alone.

While she wasn't outlandish or loud like the rest, it was beautiful to behold how freely she moved. Her friends draped all over her, but she greeted their affectionate advances wholeheartedly, enjoying their company. Time seemed to melt away for Johnny as he enjoyed the view; while one part of his mind was set on the next track and the transition, the other half was entranced and intrigued by this beauty.

"Yo, dude," Yuta cut into Johnny's thoughts and slapped him on the shoulder. "There's some hot chicks in the crowd tonight."

Johnny playfully punched his friend in the shoulder. "Yuta, they have names, bro."

"Whatever," Yuta shrugged as he turned his attention back to the crowd. "You know, the girl by the speakers and over to the left is... very nice. Just saying."

Johnny raised an eyebrow and scanned the crowd. It didn't take long to find the girl that Yuta was talking about; her flaming red hair tumbling down her back in thick curls. A striking blue strappy little top that barely covered her breasts.

"Nah dude, not my type," Johnny shrugged. "I prefer a girl with more substance." He tilted his head in the direction of the other dancers.

"The purple one?" Yuta asked.

"Red," Johnny replied as he began setting up another song.

"Oh... Oh!" Yuta looked at Johnny with a smug grin. "Now that's a pretty babe. Bam! Score one for Johnny."

"Yo, what the fuck," Doyoung butted in, "you have all the pretty ladies."

"Sorry, Mr. Sulky," Yuta stuck out his tongue. "Your dating game sucks."

Johnny laughed. "You just haven't met the one yet, Do."

"Probably never will," Doyoung grimaced and went back to his regular position, playing around with some of the lighting equipment.

Johnny smiled and shook his head at his friends' shenanigans. They were a bit immature and stupid at times, but he loved them like brothers. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the glimpse of the girl once again and he couldn't help the butterflies that formed in the pit of his stomach.

She caught him looking, and for the split second their eyes locked, the whole world seemed to move in slow motion.

Beautiful. She looked beautiful in the warm glow, sweat glistening lightly on her forehead, face flushed from dancing. Despite her makeup being a little smudged and messy, he thought it was cute. It made her real and adorable and hot all the same. Despite being surrounded by a mass amount of bodies, she stood out like a glittering diamond.

And for a split second, everything was right in his world.

If someone would have told him a year ago that he would fall in love at first sight, he would have laughed in their faces. He would have called bullshit, there was no way.

Turning his back slightly, he chuckled inwardly to himself. Johnny never had had such a strong physical attraction to a woman like this before. Sure, he was aware he was blessed with his looks, especially due to the numbers of fans and groupies he had garnered after the past gigs he had performed over the years. Beautiful women of all sizes often sought him out and flirted with him. If there wasn't much going on that night, he would find his way into the bed of a soft warm body, just for the comfort that nothing more, nothing less, could offer.

He didn't allow himself to get attached, to care too much or get too emotional. It was just one night, one or two evenings at best; but usually the passion lasted a few hours or sometimes throughout the night.

Johnny knew his limits and made sure he stuck within them. No kissing on the lips or cuddling the next morning. Breakfast and goodbyes were always offered at his door and after it closed, that was the end of it. Somewhere along the line, a few girls had his number and still tried to see him, others showed up at gigs he played hoping to see him, but his rules were airtight: no relationships, no commitments, no feelings.

Was his life lonely at times? Sometimes, but that's how Johnny liked it. Life was simpler, less complicated without a lover in his life. He wouldn't have had to make any excuses on where he was, or worry about what might happen if he wasn't at home when he said he would be. In fact, it was one of the reasons why he liked being a DJ; the world was too vast, too interesting, for him to stay still. And there was no need to check in with anyone, see if it was ok to go or ask for permission.

But maybe he wanted a change of scenery, just a bit. He desired to rest his head on something or someone warm, to tell them everything that ran through his head, to hold hands, share meaningful conversations. To have someone listen to him, give him a slice of normal in his ever-changing life.

And the feeling was almost stronger now, nearly overwhelming, as he stared at the girl before him.

The way his heart melted and the blood drained from his head down to his erection when this new beauty's gaze landed on him, it was an unfamiliar feeling. For all the groupies and attention he had received, he had never felt so entranced by someone, had wanted them so deeply, and so desperately. He wanted to meet her in the crowd, take her in his arms, dance with her, talk with her, listen to her, fuck her senselessly until they both couldn't stand and worship her gently afterwards like a queen.

He wasn't sure what she was doing here but he could care less what her plans were, as long as they involved him.

Her group laughed as they danced freely, and he watched carefully, mesmerized. He wanted to hear her laugh, wanted to be the reason why she laughed. His attention remained glued to this strange but beautiful new girl he had seen. Her gaze was focused back on the crowd, her attention away from him. Instead of feeling relieved, his muscles became tense at not being able to have her gaze rest upon him. He wanted to be the object of her attention. No matter how many times Johnny tried to focus his attention elsewhere, his thoughts would wander right back to her.

"Damn dude, I have never seen you look at someone like that before," Yuta pointed out after a short while.

"What are you saying?" Johnny kept his hands steady on the equipment in front of him.

"Just... you know what? Nothing," Yuta held up his hands in surrender. "I'll keep my observations to myself."

Johnny eyed Yuta carefully. "I am focusing on the crowd."

"Oh come on now, that cute brunette came right up and so did the red-head and you weren't the least bit interested. Are we changing things up now that you've got your eye on Little Miss Red Dress down there?"

Johnny rolled his eyes at Yuta's assumptions. "Dude, no. She's just...different, that's all."

"Uh-huh. Different," Yuta replied slowly, looking Johnny over with a raised eyebrow. "You really want to throw away all your freedom, Johnny?"

Johnny just shrugged, returning his gaze back to the red beauty dancing her heart out.

Who knows? Maybe she'll be a one-night stand.

Maybe she'll be something more.

Johnny smiled to himself as he focused on the music, allowing his senses to get lost in the rhythm, to become as one with the sounds around him. He mentally wished the girl's attention was back on him; but glancing over in her direction, she was consumed in an excited frenzy with her friends. And that was ok.

Some things would come, and some things would go.

He was certain he would see her around the resort.

"My neck hurts, my feet hurt," you complained the next morning. "My entire body hurts."

You moaned as you stretched and a feeling of delicious electricity sang from your muscles, making its way slowly to your spine and you sighed, your tense neck muscles finally releasing their tension. You were walking down one of the many pavillons lined along the white pebbled pathways. Sunlight dappled through the leafy trees, casting its rays along the pavement. The sun had risen high in the sky, and the breeze was soft; a perfect temperature to be out and about. The girls and you had stayed out late the previous night and now your entire body ached.

You're trying your hardest to keep up with the girls and for the life of you, you have no idea how they still have the energy to enjoy themselves. How can three women run on so little sleep and be so effortlessly productive with themselves? You shook your head slowly and took a deep breath. You could get through this.

You looked around, trying to find the girls but instead you ran into rock hard muscle. You stumbled, nearly falling down, but an arm shot out to steady you, grasping your forearm gently.

"Shit. I'm sorry, I didn't see you there," a deep voice rang out in front of you. "You okay?"

You looked up and you realized that you bumped into the DJ from last night and your eyes almost bulged out of your skull, cheeks burning and jaw dropping before you could stop yourself. This close up, the man looked downright edible. He wore a sleeveless hoodie and loose fit jeans; although casual, it barely covered his muscular physique.

"Uh, y-yeah, I'm fine," you stuttered before managing a small, friendly smile. His hand released your arm and his face split into a charming grin, making your knees almost give in. "My mind is elsewhere," you admitted, looking down a little embarrassed, shifting your weight from one foot to the other and avoiding his intense gaze. "I kind of lost my friends."

"Want me to join you in finding them?" He offered, tilting his head a little as he studied you. The innocent question made you freeze, heart skipping a beat and butterflies suddenly awakened in your tummy and you gave him an embarrassed glance. Not taking offense, he stepped aside and gestured for you to go first. "After you. I'm Johnny, by the way. Johnny Suh."

"Y/N," you returned the sentiment with a broad smile. Together, you continued along the path, keeping up with each other in a comfortable silence. Every now and then, you stole glances at him, eyes drifting appreciatively to his tattooed skin. "So... This isn't usually my thing, to be honest," you offered casually, attempting at some conversation. You tried not to act awkward and focus on something else besides his toned arms.

"What isn't your thing?" Johnny glanced down and furrowed his brows questioningly.

"This place," you shrugged sheepishly.

"Sun, the beach, resorts, food and alcohol? You're lying," Johnny chuckled at his own comment, making you snort a laugh, eyes glistening and a happy grin graced his lips.

Oh my god, he's even more attractive, you thought. What was it about a good man with a sense of humour that just simply, utterly destroys you? You averted your gaze, not wanting to give yourself away, especially at how much you wanted to jump his bones.

"Ok, fine. Party-centric environments," you finally responded, deciding to joke. "Sowon, Jinhee and Mira are... into this kind of scene, and they sort of dragged me along."

"Well, aren't you lucky," Johnny nodded, turning to smile warmly at you. "Because if you weren't, I wouldn't be walking with such a beautiful woman right now."

"I bet you say that to all the girls," you try your best to snort in contempt, despite your stomach going crazy from his words.

"No, only the pretty ones," he chuckled, crossing his arms and giving you a sideways look.

You simply roll your eyes and shake your head, refusing to rise to the comment, and ignore the way your face warms. "Ok, so you're smooth with a sense of humour. Are you even real?"

A laugh rumbled through his chest, resonating through you. His laugh is clear and melodic, and completely honest. Unable to keep a straight face, you cracked a chuckle yourself. "So where are you from, Y/N? If you don't mind me asking."

"Chicago but I moved to Seoul for college and have been there ever since," you replied honestly.

"I'm from Chicago too!" He seemed genuinely excited. "I moved here a couple years back with a couple buddies. We got a pretty sweet set up going on. We often tour together, and we support each other," Johnny stopped suddenly, eyeing you up and down and making you want to sink into the ground. "How about you? What do you do?"

"I got a master's degree in business. But after a while, it all seems kinda... boring?" you shrugged. "I'm currently unemployed at the moment," you giggled at the absurdity of the conversation. "God, if my parents knew..."

"That's a bummer," Johnny said, wincing. "No one likes a desk-job."

"It was nice while it lasted," you let out a small laugh as you walked down the stone steps towards the town area. Just ahead, you could see Sowon and Mira at one of the smoothie bars chatting. "I have no idea what's going to happen, so I'm just living day by day."

"Why not live in the moment?" Johnny's low voice murmured into your ear, making you stiffen slightly, feeling a sudden flush of arousal between your legs. "Nothing bad comes from that."

"Uh... yeah," you smiled a little awkwardly as you were both nearing your destination. Your heart was beating wildly inside your chest. "So, where are you at in the hotel?"

"Not really at a hotel, actually. In the bungalows, right over there. Like, right by the beach," Johnny pointed in the general direction, but you nodded all the same. "Why do you ask?"

"No reason. Just curious," you stammered as you neared closer to your friends. You weren't sure what this fluttery feeling was, the strange warmth flooding through you, all because of him. Was it excitement? This... pull towards him? It's thrilling, you had to admit; the whole scenario was. Johnny was incredibly handsome, sexy even; especially the way the shirt clung to the toned muscles of his body, but despite his looks, he seemed really down-to-earth and nice as well.

And that was the charm that pulled you in.

You liked being around him, plain and simple. Even though you just met him, you felt a connection, almost as if you've known him for years. It was comfortable. And... dare you say, safe, almost? He is, however, still very much a stranger, you reminded yourself.

"Ok. Well, I guess this is where I leave you," Johnny looked at you, smirking a bit at the proximity the girls presented. "And hey, not sure if you heard but I'm DJ-ing again tonight at the party tent. You are, without a doubt, welcome to come and see me. Or meet me afterwards? Whichever you prefer." He stepped even closer and leaned in until he was practically whispering into your ear, making the tiny hairs on the back of your neck rise and your whole body flushes with electricity.

"Be a shame if I didn't see you there," he hummed and his warm, minty breath made you press your legs together tighter. It didn't help when he skimmed his fingers against your bare thigh as he withdrew. As he turned to leave, he waved goodbye and gave you a lop-sided, charming grin. You stared dumbstruck at him, still flushing, before forcing a natural smile and waving back a little, unsure and unsteady.

Your eyes remained rooted on Johnny until he was no longer visible amongst the crowd. Heart pounding against your ribcage, you turned and hastily found the girls.

"Um, hello, who was that sexy specimen you were walking with?" Mira made a flabbergasted, incredulous face, almost like she was being personally offended that you hadn't told her anything. You laughed and shook your head, smiling at their eagerness.

"That was the DJ from last night, right?" Jinhee asked, jumping up and down excitedly as her eyes sparkled mischievously. Sowon, ever vigilant and careful, rested her soft gaze on you and patiently waited for you to continue.

"Yeah, that was him," you replied, turning to Mira as you sat down next to her and ordered a round of smoothies for the table. "And yes, I bumped into him while looking for you guys. But, you know, a coincidence."

"One hell of a coincidence, considering he might be into you, Y/N," Mira emphasized her point, jabbing you on the shoulder.

"We were just talking," you rolled your eyes. "He said he's doing another set tonight and would love it if I came by to watch him."

"Of course he did," Sowon replied, arms crossed as she pondered for a second. "If you don't go, I will officially kick your ass."

"I swear..." you shook your head and buried your face into your hands, letting out a very heavy and annoyed sigh. "He could have just been really friendly. You can't possibly know his intentions."

"The DJ literally propositioned you. He's going to rock your shit tonight and god dammit you better let him," Jinhee ordered seriously. You shot daggers at Jinhee and shook your head disapprovingly, though giggling a little at her expression. The barista brought around the smoothies and you all eagerly grabbed your share. Jinhee immediately perked up at the sight and a light in her eyes lit up with excitement.

"Let's toast to Y/N. May you have a damn good fuck tonight," she winked at you playfully.

"Or... you know, to hopefully make a new friend? I like being friends first," you suggested, avoiding looking at anyone directly, secretly regretting your decision to tell them anything. Although flustered by Johnny, there was no denying you both clicked together so easily, but you decided to avoid any obvious physical attraction until you knew him a little better.

There was something familiar and easy-going about Johnny. You enjoyed being with him and wanting more felt exciting, intimate, and even scary. Never had you experienced a near-instantaneous connection with someone as you had with Johnny. And you wanted more of him, and more of his presence.

"Oh honey. I think his end-goal is to bury that pole so deep into you, you'd feel it in your toes," Mira punctuated the thought with a naughty smile. You blushed red and rubbed your hot face. The three women burst out in laughter and were unable to control themselves. You slowly melted into the ruckus; it was impossible not to join in.

Who was Johnny Suh, really? You'll soon find out, you promised yourself.

Johnny grinned as he pumped his fist to the beat, nodding his head in time as the crowd cheered and hollered as the music pounded through the speakers. Even in the tent, the atmosphere was loud, chaotic and primal and everyone was clearly having an amazing time.

His gaze landed on you for the upteenth time throughout the set. You were standing next to him with a group of other random girls since your friends clearly pushed you to do so. Dancing away, your face had gone a little flushed and you were laughing breathlessly; obviously a little tired, a tad bit tipsy, and totally happy. For most part of the night, you would casually meet his eyes and give him a warm smile whenever you noticed he was looking at you.

You were wearing another flowy sundress, this time yellow, and you looked nothing short of radiant. He hadn't been able to stop thinking about you since he saw you earlier that day and he found himself eagerly anticipating the moment you appeared. Of course, a few other girls had stepped up to the booth of their own accord, or by a friend's persuasion, but no one had turned him on as badly as you had. Their looks were attractive but the connection wasn't there. At least, not the same connection that he had with you.

Leaning towards your ear, he laughed at your deer-in-the-headlights look. "So, did your friends force you here?"

"Only a little," you shouted, unable to contain your smile.

"Lucky me, then," Johnny responded. "I'm glad you came by."

"Lucky me. I'm enjoying myself," you quickly grabbed a cup of tequila, sloppily pouring yourself a shot in the middle of all the noise, oblivious that Johnny's eyes wandered down your slender neck, and back to settle at the low dip of your dress, exposing enough cleavage.

"Glad I could make your night fun," he murmured teasingly.

"Please," you scoffed, giving him a playful smile, raising an eyebrow. "Don't get ahead of yourself."

Johnny grinned boyishly, then turned his attention to the massive crowd beneath him, bobbing his head and making sure the next selection of tracks were perfect. The next song kicked in and the sea of bodies below leapt in the air and swayed and shouted loudly. You stopped dancing and leaned back a little, watching him work diligently at his decks and you fought the urge to bite your lip.

Without glancing back, he tilted his head towards you. "Want a picture?"

"Shit. Sorry!" You let out a small snicker, blushing a bit. "You'll think I'm a total creep if I admit I'm staring at your hands."

He only grinned and shook his head, a very definite glint of appreciation evident in his eyes. Without another word, he kept working his magic, playing and sampling until your jaw literally fell. You noticed right away his entire energy changed the moment he started working. You really wanted to feel those hands on you, to explore your body, to guide you and show you what he could really do...

Damn, get your head out of the gutter.

After a few more songs, the thumping bass began to calm down a little, which in turn made the crowd respond slower. People danced at a slightly more-rested pace, making it a little easier for people who had been dancing the whole time to really appreciate the rest of the environment.

"Let's take a break!" Johnny grinned at you and gestured to the side area where no one was behind the curtain. "Come with me for a bit."

"What about your set?" You worriedly glanced over to the booth.

"My friend Yuta can hold the fort. He's excellent," Johnny offered his hand and you took it carefully, the warmth and hardness beneath his skin sending pleasant shivers up your arm. "Plus it's called 'taking a break' for a reason."

"Better enjoy it while I can," you responded playfully, although you couldn't hide the giddiness and the blush on your cheeks as he turned, guiding you away from the party atmosphere behind the privacy of the curtains and into a much quieter world. He led you away from the tent, and through the wooden decks, towards the empty beach. It was cooler as the temperature dropped, but somehow you weren't bothered.

The sound of the ocean against the quiet night was relaxing, calming.

"As much as I like my sets, sometimes a man needs to breathe," Johnny said quietly and sat down, patting the spot beside him as an invitation for you to join him. Sitting down, you pulled your knees to your chest.

"Tell me about it. I'm still not used to this party scene," you confessed. "It's not what I'm most comfortable with."

"Yet it doesn't seem to put you off," he offered as he looked around.

"Trying to live a bit on the wild side. Spice things up, you know? I've always been a very introverted person. Not the social type," you played with the pebbles beside you, idly pushing the white stones out of the way and scratching at the dry sand beneath.

"Spice it up for what?" Johnny's curiosity got the best of him. He shifted closer and bent his head down.

"I usually don't share these things with guys I just meet," you laughed. "But I've been moping over an ex, kinda just having existential breakdowns here and there, generally feeling alone in the world, so I thought...you know... now or never. Do shit while I'm here, right?"

"What a life philosophy," Johnny chuckled softly and smiled. "What happened between you two?"

"It just wasn't meant to be, I guess," you shrugged your shoulders as you hugged your knees a little tighter. "He cheated on me and pretty much made me look like a fucking fool, so that got me in the worst mental place imaginable. Took a lot of effort to get over the bullshit."

"People are assholes," Johnny agreed. "Is that why you travelled all the way out here, to forget it?"

You laughed ironically, looking up at the cloudless sky above. "Sort of. Definitely to get away. And, because my friends wanted an all-girls trip, and we did just that. There's no need to complain," you finished happily. Johnny's eyes lingered at the serene smile upon your lips and the wind swept a piece of hair from your shoulder, making him burn and want all the more for you.

The atmosphere was peaceful and it didn't take long for him to want to kiss you; you were beautiful in every sense of the word, and you were completely in your element, whether you were aware of it or not.

"Why do you travel the world, Johnny? Are you running away from something?" You looked down and at him, curious. It was Johnny's turn to laugh, and he averted his gaze, hiding his face a little.

"Always been like this. I was pretty wild, partied too much. Had a good ear for music, a natural talent," he scratched his cheek lightly. "Some people we went to school to better themselves and grew up and got normal jobs. I'm afraid I chose the reckless route. Good music makes a good party and a good party means a lot of money."

"You were a bit of a deviant," you teased.

"For a very, very long time," he nodded, turning to face you. He searched your gaze thoughtfully, pausing and seemingly pondering.

The air had become a little tense, and you could see a small furrow between his eyebrows, shifting ever so slightly at whatever emotion was going through him. You stayed silent as you shifted a little closer, resisting the urge to trace the details of his chiselled jaw and soft lips with your fingertips. His eyes flickered at the sudden closeness between you both.

"I don't think you're as bad as you claim, Johnny," you decided softly, lowering your gaze to your fidgeting fingers.

"You think so?" He murmured, barely above a whisper. "I've been thinking about settling down somewhere. Want to try and see how a normal life can work out, you know?"

"You? Settling down? What a funny thought," you chuckled teasingly, and was rewarded by his beautiful grin.

"Scary, isn't it?" Johnny laughed. "I like the tours and the parties, the music, but I'm not getting any younger. And... it can be lonely, you know? Sure, I have my friends but there are times when I crave a closer, stronger connection with someone. Someone that can listen to me, understand me and know all my thoughts, but not care because they still like me anyway, flaws and all," he admitted carefully, glancing at you for a brief moment, before his eyes drop back to your hands.

"Whoever dates you, will be an incredibly lucky person," you whispered earnestly, staring intently at him. You bit your lip shyly at the compliment. "It sounds... amazing. And fun. The person you're searching for is probably out there. Somewhere."

"I can only hope," his lips twisted into a gentle, warm smile. You felt Johnny's hand rest against your cheek, rubbing along your smooth, soft skin. Trembling, goosebumps littered your skin as his fingertips moved to tilt your chin up. His eyes darkened, pupils blown with desire as his thumb ran over your bottom lip, pulling it lightly down. Then he leaned forward, and his mouth captured yours.

Your eyelids fluttered closed and your hand rested against his muscled chest, feeling his steady heartbeat as his palm cupped your jaw. Warm and inviting, and soft, the press of Johnny's lips to your own became gentler before he withdrew carefully. Looking into your eyes, the lust and longing was evident in the shimmer of his own.

"Was that ok?" He asked, his rough voice tinged with raw restraint.

"Of course," you whispered, leaning in again and pulling him down by the hem of his shirt, placing another soft kiss on his delectable lips. Johnny didn't need any more encouragement. He drew himself in, clasping your waist and lifting you smoothly onto his lap, effectively positioning you on him. Surprised, you gasped at his brazen move. "Here? On the beach?"

Johnny grinned. "No one would find us unless they decided to take a midnight stroll. We can always stop," his large hands slowly moved to stroke your thighs. The touch burned into your flesh and made your head spin as his fingers dug into the smoothness of your skin.

Unsure, you didn't know how to reply; the thought of someone catching you didn't bother you at all, nor did the idea of it excite you. All you wanted was Johnny, Johnny, and more of his consuming heat and kisses. In an attempt to settle your growing nerves and butterflies, you lightly trailed your fingertips along his big arms, taking in the muscular beauty beneath the canvas of intricate and breathtaking tattoos.

You felt your courage rising and were growing increasingly aroused under his dark, half-lidded stare. There was no denying the effect his close proximity and smoldering gaze had on you. "What are we doing, Johnny? We just met," you whispered, the tension suddenly filling the space around you both.

"But our chemistry's off the charts," Johnny's gentle voice whispered into your ear and you shivered at the husky timbre, not bothering to hide the effect of his words. Leaning forward, he placed feather-light kisses along the column of your throat.

"You're only saying that because of what we're doing," you attempted to convince yourself. What was the rational decision at this moment? Your fingers were caressing his chiseled jaw, unable to stop, and unsure if you wanted to be stopped.

Johnny finally kissed you, slow and sweet, and your hand clutched the material of his shirt as you eagerly replied. Rough palms cupped your ass and squeezed your curves, grinding his hips against yours and you moaned into his mouth, pleasure pooling deep inside as an ache began to throb between your legs. His mouth left yours to slowly trace a path down to your collarbone, deliberately leaving light love bites, making you whimper and push your chest against his hot mouth.

"Just say stop, and I'll stop," Johnny pulled back to search your glazed eyes, seeing nothing but lust reflected there. "But fuck me, I hope you don't," he breathed softly.

"Johnny," you gasped softly, relishing in the way he kissed you so passionately, his hard and toned body melting against your softer, curvier frame. Gazing deeply into the caramel depths of his eyes, your head was swimming and your heart was fluttering. Kissing Johnny, and kissing him harder, you decided you weren't stopping.

Not now.

Not anymore.

"I've wanted to do this ever since I laid eyes on you," Johnny groaned as he gently pushed the hem of your dress up until the lacy edges of your black underwear were on show. He ran his fingers along the seams and he teased you by rolling and palming a thumb against the wet silk covering your clit. The friction made you moan wantonly, bucking into his waiting hand.

"Me too," you admitted breathlessly as his fingers slipped past the lacy fabric. "I wanted you from the second I saw you." You couldn't stop the words tumbling out, high off the way his thick fingers worked between the slippery folds. He found your clit and drew small, light circles until you were gasping and squirming.

"Then stay with me," Johnny moaned, gripping your jaw tightly with his other free hand.

"Like, right here?" You managed a laugh, gyrating your hips onto his fingers and crying out, reveling at how fantastic he felt as he continued to send soft tingles up and down your spine.

Johnny chuckled, placing soft, open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive patch of skin near your throat. Suddenly, you felt his thick fingers dip inside of you and the fullness made you buckle. Pressing your forehead against his shoulder, you breathed a few shaking breaths, barely registering the cool night air as he pumped into you languidly.

"Damn, why not," Johnny groaned, drawing back and grinning. You whined at the lack of his warmth and you were left wanting more. You buried your face into his neck, embarrassed at the display, kissing and licking his heated skin until a low hiss escaped through his teeth. In response, his pace increased as he found an extremely pleasurable spot.

Then, without warning, he withdrew and he lowered his hand and unbuckled his trousers, causing you to hold your breath. He pulled his zipper down and his boxers, releasing his thick, heavy cock, long and bobbing. You couldn't help but watch in lust and awe. Even as you glanced back up to him, you saw his gaze darkened and a sly, naughty smile dancing along his lips.

"Don't look so surprised," he spoke carefully, his hands gripping your waist firmly and moving you up into a better position. You obeyed without thinking, guided by his soft touches and gentle grip. Slipping your panties to the side, you steadied his length beneath you and easily sank yourself, moaning with pleasure and feeling almost high as he entered, stretching and filling you to the brim. The thickness alone sent shivers of delight coursing through your veins. You love the feeling of being filled by him. You couldn't remember the last time you felt so full. "I can make you feel so damn good."

"Oh god," was all you were able to gasp out, tilting your head back in wonderment. Johnny left one hand at the base of your spine to support you and bring you up and down as you rode him, ensuring your hips never lost pace, while the other rested against the back of your scalp, fingers burying into the silky strands of your hair as he tipped your head forward.

It was a slow yet intoxicating kiss, his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth. He let out a moan as your fingers delved into his hair, pulling tightly as his mouth moved to trace a soft line of butterfly kisses down your jaw and neck. You knew the power behind that kiss wasn't just the feeling of want, need and desire and it was the silent promise, a want for you and you alone.

In that moment, it felt like nothing in the entire world mattered except for this.

"You're driving me crazy," you let out. Never had you felt this passionate attraction towards someone, and you found the sensations overwhelming. Yet, rather than pull away, you yearned to have this and experience all of him.

"It's mutual," Johnny moaned against the flushed skin of your neck. And before you knew it, you let out an appreciative sigh as his hot tongue glided along the column of your throat, trailing down the front, teasingly across the top of your breasts and drawing patterns as his hand explored the soft mounds beneath.

"Don't stop," you panted as he thrust up into you harder, the friction, heat and passion mounting. His touch alone was enough to stimulate your senses beyond repair; you just couldn't fathom that someone could set your whole body on fire by simply touching, caressing and kissing you everywhere.

"I won't," Johnny replied, the arousal and desire clear as day across his striking features, pulling back his head to marvel at the way your body moved perfectly against his, the way you clenched around his cock and gripped his shoulder.

You grasped onto his broad shoulders and let yourself fall deeper into ecstasy as you both moved in unison. Johnny shifted slightly and his tip brushed against that wondrous sweet spot. The sudden contact forced a loud, shameless moan that escaped your lips, and you both chuckled and shared a gaze that spoke more than a thousand words.

Johnny's arms supported you as you shuddered and clenched around his hard member, finding the angle where you needed it most. Bouncing harder, faster, and leaning onto him, your hair grazed the side of his forehead as you both breathed heavily, sharing moans, gasps, and blissful sighs as you chased your high.

"Johnny... fuck..." you moaned, shutting your eyes tightly and breathing deeply.

"Be a good girl and cum for me," Johnny urged, and the need and desperation was clear in his voice as he moved one hand to stroke your sensitive, swollen clit. Your insides tensed and coiled, and your nails dug deeply into the warm, bare skin of his muscular arms. Reaching your peak, you moaned his name over and over like a broken mantra and seeing you come undone, Johnny let go as well and released a broken groan of pleasure, and with one final thrust, he emptied himself within.

Breathless, you rested your head on his shoulder. Both sweaty and trembling, Johnny allowed a grin to grow on his face. Before you could find a reply, he pulled you into another intimate, tender and gentle kiss. "We have all night, you know."

"What about your set? Shouldn't we go back soon?" You asked as you suddenly came back to earth, giggling slightly.

"They'll be fine. Yuta knows what he's doing," He smirked cheekily and slowly pulled out. Pulling your panties back in place, you smoothed your dress down and shifted off of his lap, sitting properly beside him. Johnny tucked himself back into his boxers and stood up with a smug, satisfied smile, grasping your hand and pulling you up. "Let's have tonight and not worry about tomorrow."

You bit your lip and nodded, allowing him to guide you to his bungalow and take you for a second round. And a third.

The following months had gone by quickly and you still couldn't get over the fling that happened between you and that irresistible DJ.

Sure it was just one night but the memory of the intimacy, the passion and the desire were still fresh in your mind. You thought often about that hot encounter as you still hadn't quite forgotten the night on the beach. It was still vivid and there would sometimes be moments when you would catch yourself daydreaming, mentally reliving the way his fingers and lips touched you, especially on quiet nights at the cafe with friends or during slow hours when business was dead.

Smiling as you relived the precious vacation with your friends, you flipped through the countless photos on your camera, laughing and sobbing, then giggling and feeling dumb. It had been half a year since you last saw Johnny, and it would probably be an entire year before you'd see him again. After all, he travelled the world all the time, bouncing from one stage to the next.

As soon as you returned to Seoul, reality settled. Life moved on, and it was business as usual. While it was fun, and an absolute dream to have had such an incredible and wild fling with a guy so hot and passionate, life changed after the memories faded into what really mattered.

You managed to find another job at an office, this time as a higher level administrative assistant, although that came with more responsibilities and deadlines and working longer hours than ever before. After all, bills didn't pay themselves and you would definitely need to splurge now that you were suddenly single again.

It was mid-afternoon when you settled into the seat next to Mira, chattering excitedly as she talked about a new club opening downtown. "Are you free tonight?" She asked hopefully, stirring her iced coffee.

"Maybe. I have loads of work," you frowned.

"Come on, doll. You and work. It's like you're an old married couple," Mira complained and sighed, seeing the deep frown on your face.

"I hate being an adult sometimes," you frowned, Sowon patting your back.

"Only sometimes?" Sowon joked dryly.

"Most of the time," you grinned.

Jinhee pouted. "Will you please come with us? It will do you good to get out more. Do we have to drag you out again?"

"It's not good for the mind," Mira added wisely.

"I know. It's so boring and…" you started saying, until a dark shape passed the window. A large moving truck, boxes, and moving men. Some furniture. Looking outside, you noticed a man standing near the truck holding one end of a couch while another helper struggled with the other end. It didn't escape you that the man appeared huge in a way that made your breath hitch, and that familiar head of silky black hair.

He wore a deep blue silk shirt with a chunky white printed collar that didn't hide his golden skin, even from afar. The muscular frame of a well-built body underneath was easy to identify too, and somehow all those hot memories rushed back.

"Oh god," you muttered.

"Y/N? Y/N? Are you in there?" Jinhee chuckled. "Is everything alright? What are you staring at?"

"Oh my god!" You cried out, getting up from your seat and moving towards the cafe doors. Ignoring your confused friends' puzzled looks, you pushed open the doors and dashed out.

A lot of questions buzzed through your head, but the urgency to run and approach him was greater than anything else. Would it be bad if you ran right up to him and smothered him with kisses? Probably. Would it be bad if he rejected you? Definitely. And... would he even remember you?

"Hey," a gruff voice said softly from behind.

You jumped, letting out a surprised yelp as you whipped your head around. Upon seeing his face close up again, you were instantly hit by a sudden wave of hot memories. Heat made its way up to your face and you blushed from embarrassment.

How could anyone forget that face? It had been six months, but you would recognize it anywhere. Those beautiful, brown eyes gazing at you, tender and hopeful. That full mouth, making all sorts of naughty promises. And his thick locks, disheveled and sexy.

How did he look as perfect as that one night you met him? You had no idea. Maybe everything was just a dream. It was definitely too good to be true. But here, seeing him again... somehow everything felt right, like the gears had clicked into place. His simple presence eased the loneliness in your heart, and it only made you long for him more than ever.

"Hi," you replied weakly, suddenly aware of your fast heartbeat.

Johnny grinned widely, walking closer to you as he dug his hands into the pockets of his jacket. "What's wrong? It's like you've seen a ghost."

"Oh. Just wondering if I would run away. Or hug you. Either one," you managed to grin, blushing harder. The smell of him and the way his scent lingered around you felt comfortable and nostalgic. The warmth was a familiarity that you had no idea you craved again until it happened, and you wanted to fall headfirst back into it.

"Well, are you going to do either one? I wouldn't mind the second," there was a glint of mischief in his eyes.

"Hmm..."

Johnny couldn't help but laugh as he stepped forward again, approaching your still form. Then, he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close to him and hugging you.

"Yeah, this feels more like it," Johnny's voice vibrated through him, his touch alone bringing up overwhelming, vivid flashbacks. It was almost as if time had stopped in that small space, and everything blurred out of focus and only your mind processed his scent, his warmth, and his embrace. "Miss me?"

You clutched his shirt tightly and leaned your cheek against the hard muscles beneath, giggling madly at the sudden flurry of happiness enveloping you. "I can't believe you're here."

"Surprise," he laughed.

"I had no idea you were moving out here. Since when did you put down roots? With... neighbors and paying taxes and everything? I didn't think it was your style," you said curiously, pulling back to admire him up close.

"It's definitely not," Johnny snorted. "But I told you I moved around too much and thought the constant living out of a suitcase was finally getting to me."

"Is that so?" you said.

Johnny tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. "Well, I had to put down the roots somewhere."

"And that led you here," you breathed. "Are you close?"

Johnny looked up at the building behind him. "Just moved into the building right here. Third floor, 18C."

"Really? I live on the sixth floor. Apartment 23B" your heart skipped a beat.

"Damn, that's close too," he mused.

"Very," you let out a small laugh. "The odds..."

"Life can be amusing," Johnny chuckled, his big hand closing around yours. "After meeting you, I got to thinking about priorities. Wondered what the future looked like. Then, I thought about you. Maybe being just a bit self-indulgent can't be that bad, huh?"

"Nope. It definitely isn't," you giggled, gripping his hand tightly. Gazing up into the pool of rich, dark caramel, a warm fuzzy sensation pooled deep inside your stomach.

"Your friends are staring," Johnny whispered in your ear, making your knees weak.

Looking over his shoulder, you saw the three women watching your exchange. They averted their gaze quickly and all of them suddenly had a keen interest in their coffee. Your entire face warmed in a crimson blush and you hid your face against his chest again, smelling that wonderful musk and spice coming off him.

"Let's give them a show," he laughed, dipping his head down to kiss you, ignoring your small protests, holding you tightly as you giggled against his lips.

"What are we doing?" you murmured against his lips, kissing him back. "Are we really doing this again?"

"Something like that," Johnny grinned back. "But this time, with more nights and mornings."

"And everything else in between?" You added jokingly.

Johnny shrugged and pretended to frown. "Unfortunately."

"Good. You wouldn't want to get rid of me now, would you?" You teased, draping your arms around his neck.

The grin returned. "Hell no. One night was never enough."

There was no response or argument, no hesitation. He had shown up back into your life, having been hundreds and thousands of miles away, and it didn't seem at all far-fetched now as he stood here with his arms wrapped firmly around you.

It may have seemed sudden, or fast, or simply just impulsive and reckless, but it didn't feel wrong, and at least for this moment, nothing was going to change the fact that it felt very, very right. A rush of happiness engulfed you and your heart was lighter than it ever had been in a very long time.

And this, this, was undeniably where you wanted to be.

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naomihatake · 5 months ago

Text

I find solace in your arms

⠀⠀⠀⠀➺ pairing: sylus x fem reader / love and deepspace

⠀⠀⠀⠀➺ tags: established relationship, hurt/comfort, angst & fluff, third person pov

⠀⠀⠀⠀➺ summary: Skyhaven brought new nightmares to the young hunter. When she came back to Linkon, the only person that came to mind was Sylus — a safe and stable presence in her tumultuous life.

⠀⠀⠀⠀➺ content warnings: allusions to abuse, suicidal thoughts due to overwhelming emotions (they don't follow the entire narrative), insecurities, they're both trying to heal each other

⠀⠀⠀⠀➺ word count: 1.9k

⠀⠀⠀⠀➺ theme song: “Runaway” by AURORA

⠀⠀⠀⠀➺ A/N: Sylus's vulnerable moment came out unexpectedly when I started writing this. However, I like how it turned out, because it makes me feel like there's balance in the way they try to comfort each other. To me, they're beautiful that way. In this narrative, she views Caleb like a brother/best friend.

Skyhaven has been an exhausting and scary place. Linkon had its own dangers, the N109 Zone was a shit show, but Skyhaven might've ruined her perception of danger. Just like pain tolerance, her sense of danger had changed in the span of a few months.

Sylus — he was the only one she could think of when she arrived back in Linkon. It was all a blur, from the airport to the N109 Zone. What mattered was to see him, whose name she heard in Skyhaven. Hearing about Onychinus was a danger in itself; it meant someone was after Sylus.

‘There's always someone after me, kitten,’ he'd say.

He was anxiously tapping his fingers on his knee as he sat on the couch in his office. It wasn't hard to guess that he was equally distressed after being in no contact with her for a few weeks.

She came back to her senses when she crashed in his arms, when she felt his gentle and warm embrace envelop her like a protective shield. She's missed him, Gods, how much she missed him.

“I wish that whoever kidnaps me next time, they just kill me instead,” a sob broke from her lips. “I wish they wouldn't toy with me, I wish they wouldn't keep me alive for longer. Sylus, I'm so tired.”

No matter how much she loved Caleb, his behavior had been unsettling.

The dam had broken and before she knew it, she was shaking in the arms of her beloved. And like the devoted lover that he was, he held her tightly, despite the aching heart beating painfully in his chest. As if he knew, as if he could feel her heart shattering. Instead of pushing it away, he let it happen, he let himself hurt as well, with the hope that it'll steal away some of her pain.

“Don't say that, darling,” he whispered softly against her ear, fingers tightening on her shoulder. “Don't.”

“But it's the truth,” she whimpered against his neck. “I can't. I'm too tired to keep myself together, it's too much. I wish you were my enemy so that I'd disintegrate into thin air. I wish—” but she couldn't continue any further, her cries intensifying.

It was silent. Except for the small whimpers when she ran out of breath, except for the broken words, no other sound escaped her lips. With her fingers tightened into the collar of his maroon shirt, she bit at her own lip.

It was a lot. It was too much, the pain, the despair, the hollow in her chest that's just been reopened for the hundredth time.

For months, he's been her everything. He still was her everything, but a small piece of her soul had been broken and never put back together by that one person — Caleb had broken her for the second time.

She hurt Sylus with her stupid words. The realization hit her when his hold onto her tightened. Just like that, her arms curled around his shoulders and she hugged him with firmness, despite the broken pieces of her heart that beat weakly between their chests.

“I'm sorry for saying that,” she shook her head, closing her eyes as another tear ran down her face. “I shouldn't have. I know you only care about me. I promise I know, Sylus.”

His breath shuddered when she spoke his name like that, in that sad and mournful tone. Pressing his nose against her hair and swallowing her scent deep within his lungs, it was hard to hide his own despair. His very soulmate was breaking in his arms and he wasn't even sure how to mend her broken pieces back together.

“It's not you talking,” he reassured her in such a gentle tone. “It's the grief and the pain. You don't have to explain yourself.”

“But I can't cause you suffering just because I'm in pain.” Another broken whimper.

“And even if you do, I'll gladly accept it for as long as I can hold you for a little longer.”

If only she had hated everyone, it would've been easier to go through with her life. It would've been easier to handle it, it would've been easier if it wasn't for her beating heart and her stupid, pitiful soul. If it wasn't for the life living inside that body, it would've been easier.

Sliding one of her hands down from his shoulder to his chest, she pressed her fingers against his body. Feeling that very same life beat under her touch ruined something within her as a shard was put back into its rightful place. Sylus was there and he was breathing, he was right next to her, holding her like no one else has. Caring for her in ways she's only dreamt of being cared for.

“I'm one mind away from killing whoever has put you through this.” His solemn tone was filled with a promise.

“I wish I had it within myself to let you do it. But I can't,” she shook her head.

Her hair tickled the side of his neck and he let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through the strands.

Love was, indeed, the most painful thing he's ever felt. It was painful for the way he had to watch his beloved cry in his arms when he could do nothing to help her, when he could do nothing to properly solve the situation. Never once in this life has he ever felt so helpless, all because of her. She had twisted his life, had knotted the threads and he couldn't undo it anymore. Truthfully speaking, he'd never wished to undo those knots, even if it hurt.

Had she asked him to kill someone, he would've. Had she told him to ruin a city, he would've. Had she pleaded with him to burn the whole world to the ground, he would've.

But she didn't and that was the hardest part of them all. Instead, she asked for a kindness that wasn't even alive, a kindness reserved to a few things. Stray cats and lonely children, mourning people and that hurt dove she's helped once. The mechanical crow and the twins. Her.

Multiple times, she had tugged at his heart in a way he didn't even believe it was possible. Sometimes, holding himself back from torturing a man was a sign of kindness — in his life, in that business, mercy was the highest act of kindness. On a normal day, he wouldn't have cared, she wouldn't have cared either. But this time, she did.

So Sylus was left helpless while his soulmate silently cried against his chest.

“Don't let go,” she murmured softly, voice hoarse.

“That's how little you think of me, sweetie?” his soft whisper brushed against her ear.

Her only answer was the tightening grip onto his shirt. Another sigh escaped his lips.

Raising her head, she cupped his face in between her palms with a tenderness that stole his breath. She looked at him with a love so gentle, and for a split second he saw that white haired woman with red eyes. In the reflection of her glassy eyes, he saw the reflection of a monstrous dragon that resembled a human far too much.

Sylus didn't realize when he said her name in a reverent tone. It slipped so easily, despite the low number of times he's used it.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he whispered.

Instead of answering, she continued to admire the beautiful man that was holding her so dearly. Running her thumbs over his cheek bones, dipping a little into the dark circles under his eyes, she treated him the way one would treat glass.

It tugged and clawed at his heart, ruining every piece of him and putting it back together. He recognized that stare from a life of long ago. His breath hitched.

“I've never missed you as much as I did in the last weeks,” she cracked a small smile.

Sylus removed one of his hands from her waist and placed it at the side of her neck, cupping the warm skin in his palm. Something flashed in her eyes — fear.

All she could think of was that gloved hand (she once found comfort in) grip at her throat.

His hand raised like he's been struck and his gaze mirrored hers. However, she pressed his hand back where it was.

“It's not you,” she assured him. “I promise. It has nothing to do with you.”

He was hyper aware of his own breathing, a little laboured and quick, heart beating faster.

“Sylus.” It snapped him out of his head. His eyes were, once again, focused on her. “It's alright. I trust you.”

“I've also missed you, kitten,” he hummed instead, trying to avoid her gaze for a little while.

I trust you. How long he's dreamt of hearing those words, how long he had hit that boxing sack with pure hatred for his own self.

Usually, he would've teased her. “How much did you miss me, hm?”, “Really, kitten? Let me show you just how I missed you too”, “I feel honored to know you've thought of me, sweetie”.

However, at that moment, teasing didn't seem like a good answer. Too shallow to fit. The loving words slipping from her mouth — from between those pretty, sweet lips — twisted another claymore straight through his chest.

“Love.”

Their gazes locked together once more. Sylus was surprised to hear that pet name — it wasn't unusual, but it was rare enough to make his heart skip a beat or two, or more. As if she had heard his thoughts, she leaned in closer, their breaths mingling together.

Peace had settled around them in a thick cloak. The planet stopped rolling and the hands of the clock stood still, its sound nowhere to be heard.

She read right through him, could feel the avoidance in his gaze and gestures, the way there was something he tried so hard to hide — and he failed, because she knew better than that. Before her eyes didn't sit a fierce beast, but rather a kind man.

They ached to kiss, to feel each other's lips, but there was something greater burning inside their hearts, something that swayed in the small space between them. Something that could only be seen and felt when they stayed so close, stripped of all walls and shields, as they were each other's protection.

“Are you sure you won't let me destroy whoever brought you back to square one?” he arched his eyebrow.

The answer was obvious, Sylus was just trying his luck once more. If she had decided to do something, nothing could change her mind. The sadness in her eyes reappeared.

“I'm sorry, Sylus.”

Once more, she hid her face against his neck, arms curling around his waist.

“There's no need to apologize, sweetie,” he hummed. “You should rest.”

“Will you chase away my nightmares?” She's been having plenty in the past weeks.

“Always, kitten.”

Even if for her he couldn't be the ‘big, bad mafia boss’, he will act like it if he has to. His sole reason was to protect her from whoever threatened to destroy her peace.

“I promise I'll chase away yours in return.”

There was no moon in the night sky. Clouds had covered every surface of it.

Outside the window, a dove with pretty white feathers tilted its head as it stared at them with curiosity.

A/N: The dove, yes 🥰 I'm referring to the dove MC saved in Nightplumes, the one Sylus took care of. If you don't know what I'm talking about, you can find it on YouTube or you can get the 5stars card in the wishing well, I think.

When he takes his hand away from her after she flinches, the reason why she tries to comfort him is because she knows there's still remnants of some insecurities. Sylus has gone at her pace the entire time and he is fully aware of how brutal he's been in the beginning, when they first met. However, each one of them has their own triggers, as you can see.

If you have any thoughts, you're free to leave a comment <333 Thank you for reading!

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f1smutwriter · 2 months ago

Text

| 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐞 (𝐂𝐋𝟏𝟔, 𝐋𝐍𝟒)

★ :: Experienced!Lando x Experienced!Charles Semiexperienced! reader

Pt1, Pt2, Pt3

★ : Summary :: She realized she needed them both but does she tell them

★ : Warning :: SMUT! masterbating(fem), fingering, oral(fem rec, male rec), riding, unprotected sex (sit your ass down), breast play, anal, making out, teasing, spitting kink, slight spanking, pet names (baby, darling, amour), double penetration at the same time, hair pulling, begging a ton of begging, poly relationship, mentions of uncomfortable situation at the end, more I probably missed

★ : Notes:: Sooooo I haven't written in so freaking long, like 6 months type long. But I'm back and I have so many things I want to write because they are even finer this year. Also so many people wanted a fourth in this series so this is it the last and final part. Your welcome

˚｡⋆ ୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡˚｡⋆ ୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ˚｡⋆ ୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡˚｡⋆ ୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡

“Baby I’m home” Charles called out walking inside the house after the longest triple header ever. When he came in he didn’t hear my usual running footsteps to him. But he heard the faint sounds of your whimpers something that became very familiar. He made his way to the room opening it ever so slightly so he didn’t give away his presence.

He saw me there naked body on top of our shared bed breathless and trying to find my high with my fingers, something I could never achieve without him. “Fuck” he whispered under his breath watching my hips bucking into my hand. His pants got tighter, his breath got heavier, and his hands were yearning to touch me.

He opened the door announcing to me that he was there but he saw my eyes shut trying to rub my clit to the orgasm I was never gonna get to. “This is what you do when you miss me huh?” He hummed out loud making my eyes jolt out and closing my eyes in pure embarrassment. “N-no only when I need it” I muttered out trying to get my heart to calm down but it felt like it was gonna beat out of my chest.

“No” he said in his accent that I loved and made me soaked. Usually he had that cocky smirk or a smile but not this time it was lust. Pure and utter lust. “What were you thinking in that pretty head while touching yourself” he questioned me while he walked towards me. “You” I stammered out. He knew that wasn’t fully the truth that I was thinking about him but not just him. “So we’re lying now” he replied looking at me with a slight smile.

“I’m not” I tried to reason but he knew me too well. “Wrong answer sweetheart” he grinned making his way towards me. “I’ll touch you but what were you thinking of” he whispered in my ear making shivers run down my spine as he slowly had his hand inch up towards my pussy. “Don’t be mean” I whined bucking my hips needing him but that was no use.

“You either say what you were thinking or you get left with this needy pussy untouched” he smirked slowly brushing over my clit making me whine even louder. “Fine I was thinking of you and lando” I cried out needing it. “Please touch me can’t take it anymore” I added bucking my hips to his hand.

“Good girl I knew you were thinking of him” he smiled slowly rubbing my clit giving me the release I was needing. I gasped slightly trying to guide his fingers in me. “Baby please need them in me” I begged with those eyes I knew he couldn’t resist.

“How about you fuck yourself on them while I call lando. Okay?” He said with a smile making me nod softly understanding immediately what he was planning on doing. I sink my pussy on his thick feelings feeling my eyes close and my head lean back as the tip of them hits my g-spot deliciously.

I moved my hips in a slow teasing motion wanting to build up my orgasm. Charles was calling lando as he watched me fuck myself on his fingers “how’s it feel Princesse” he asked kissing my chest sucking on my nipples giving me the extra source of pleasure. “Tellement bien Charles, ça fait tellement du bien s’il te plaît ne t’arrête pas” I moaned out gripping his shoulders to level myself. (So good Charles, it feels so good please don't stop)

Then we both heard the sound of the ringing stop and through the phone we hear Lando’s wetting British accent. “Hey mate. what’s up?” Lando asked thing Charles was gonna ask him for help with something, which wasn’t far off from the truth. “Do you think you can come over and help me with something” Charles asked giving me a knowing smirk as he curls his fingers right into my g-spot making me let out a whimper moan.

"Ahh, I see can hear her through the phone" he mentioned being able to hear his mischievous smirk on the other side of the phone. "Glad you caught on, front doors open just let yourself in" Charles laughed before hanging up the phone. He gently lays me down before fingering my pussy so hard causing my breath to leave my lungs. I let out the loudest moan that our entire apartment complex pretty much heard.

“Pl-ease” I moaned out gripping his wrist as he drilled his fingers in and out. He smirked softly kissing my neck. “Fuck your so wet and tight can’t wait to fuck you with lando here” he whispered into my ear making my pussy clench around his digits. I felt my cunt get absolutely demolished with just his finger. My mind was in pure heaven as my voice let out the loudest noises on earth noises I didn’t even know I was able to make.

“Close, m’gonna cum please make me cum” I cried my legs quivering the similar feeling in my stomach tightening every thrust he makes. “Then cum baby be a good girl and cum for me” he smiled before rubbing my clit letting my orgasm crash into me like a tsunami. “Wow such a gorgeous sight darling” I hear from the doorway the same nickname I had heard 2 weeks ago, which makes me open my eyes.

I smiled the second I saw him missing his presence. “Miss me princess” he smiled kissing my lips gently . I nod softly as I was still dizzy from the orgasm Charles just gave me. “Did a real number on her leclerc” Lando laughed softly kissing my head.

“So I heard you missed me” he asked softly looking at my vulnerable state making me nod. He smiled kissing me softly causing me to kiss back. “Gonna take care of our girl huh leclerc” he said to Charles while Charles nods biting his lip. “You know the drill Mon amour hands knees like a good girl” Charles told me sternly but softly at the same time.

So I did what I was told not wanting to cross them. I went on my hands and knees feeling so vulnerable and exposed to them almost like I needed to cover up. “So pretty love” Lando said softly kissing my lips as I feel Charles lick my sensitive cunt. I moaned loudly closing my eyes. “Very sensitive pussy” he mumbled into it before pulling away. “Would you like a taste” Charles offered Lando making him smiled before eating me out.

“So good” I gasped out my thighs shaking before he stopped. “Where do you want Charles love” Lando asked me softly. “Anywhere just please” I begged softly needing them. “You take her I want the back” Charles said with a smirk on his face. “Come it on my lap love” Lando told me as he takes his cock out of his pants. I slowly sink down on him causing me to loose all the air out of my lungs.

“What’s wrong darling to much” Lando teased as he bottomed out in me. I shake my head no, my hands on his chest while I bite my lip so hard I was afraid of it bleeding. "So tight babe, even after getting this pretty cunt stretched out by Charles fingers" He teased me before bucking his hips up into mine making me let out the loudest moan ever.

Then I felt the feeling of Charles's finger playing with my other hole. "You think you're ready for both again" Charles whispered into my ear while kissing my neck. I nod instantly wanting them both like last time. Then he put lube on himself groaning at the sensation lightly.

"Let me help mate" Lando offered making Charles look a bit surprised but nodding. He felt Lando's hand wrapped around his cock feeling ten times better than his own. All Lando did was smirk stroking Charles cock faster.

I felt myself giggle at the interaction between them since they've never touched each other only me. "Nice view" I say to them both with a smile as I bite my lip. "Sorry amore" He said thinking I was weirded out. "I liked it I promise" I smiled reassuring them both not wanting them to worry.

"Okay good to know" Lando whispered looking at Charles the same way he looks at me when he wants a kiss. So Charles looked at me for reassurance making me nod softly before they leaned in their lips touching for the first time.

Seeing them kiss for the first time gave me a sense of happiness for all of us stepping a step forward in this. Then Charles slipped in me without any warning feeling myself moan digging my nails in Lando's air. "Ssshhh feel him love, feel how deep he is inside you" Lando whispered softly rubbing my clit gently calming me down.

I nod giving them the green light to start moving, they both slowly moved in and out making sure to go gentle. The way the night started I would have no thought it would have led to Charles and Lando fucking me slowly gently. Way different from the other time we were all together.

Lando was leading while Charles was following him, both of them going in and out almost like a melody. I let out soft moans leaning into Charles chest needing someone to hold me through this euphoric moment. "I got you baby, I got you" He whispered thrusting in and out of me with such passion and gentleness.

Lando watched me and Charles in pure awe seeing Charles care about me and deep in his chest he felt protectiveness between me and Charles. Needing us both not in a 'sex buddies' type way but in a 'I think I love you' type way. But he couldn't tell us not when Charles and me were committed. "Hey what's wrong" I asked softly seeing Lando zone out rubbing his chest.

"Lost you there for a bit" Charles said a bit concerned on him making sure everything was okay. "yeah sorry was a bit overwhelmed, we can finish" Lando said sounding not so sure about continuing. "No tell us whats wrong" I pushed wanting to see what was bothering him. I slowly got off of him siting down next to him.

"Are you not into it or do you not feel good" I asked gently wanting him to feel comfortable enough to tell us. "Yeah no judgement if you're not into it anymore" Charles mentioned to see if that was the problem.

"It's not that, it's just" He started not sure if he should speak how he feels. But then he looked at us the concerned almost loved look in our eyes, not the look you give a friend. Then he gave me a look making me recognized it instantly, the soft gaze his eye brows slightly furrowed. "Oh" is all I happened to muttered out in the moment,"Yeah" He says back. "Okay what is going on I'm so lost" Charles asked with the most priceless look on his face.

"Would you like me to tell him" I say holding Lando's hand softly. He nodded trusting me in this moment all the trust he had. "Lando think's he loves us" I say to Charles as he gives a shocked face, a face I haven't seen Charles give ever.

"Is that true" Charles whispered softly making Lando shiver at the deep voice. "if it helps I feel the same" I smiled at him squeezing his hand. "Why do you think I told Charles he knew before you got here we planned this whole thing" I giggled slightly making him look at us confused. "Wait actually" he questioned not believing us at all.

He looked at Charles while he nodded with a smile on his face. "I hate you both" He chuckled softly shaking his head. "No you don't you love us" Charles teased him poking his side. "Fine fine maybe I do" Lando admitted as Charles when to the other side of him. "Wanna stay for a while" I whispered to him cuddling to his side. "Yeah just a little while" He whispered back looking at us with a different look he had then when he walked into to the house.

★ : 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 :: I really hope y'all like this, its a bit different from my other smuts just wanted to switch it up a little. If you guys like my smuts like this you can always ask for more my request are open. Hope you guys have a good day loves.

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #charles leclerc #f1 smut #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x you #f1 fic #f1 fluff #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando norris smut #lando norris #lando x reader #lando x you #polyamory

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be-xkyy · 4 months ago

Text

Yandere Platonic Twin Brother (a bit of yandere friend in love)

Warning: violence, blood, a broken nose, overprotective brother, a friend in love, a clueless reader but with strong character, This is PLATONIC and a little ROMANTIC but not with the brother.

(By the way, I was going to be inactive this month, but it's quite the opposite, why does inspiration come to me when I have so many things pending😰? I'm juggling the blog and school 💀)

Tagging list: @kthehoeforfictionalmen ★ @dreamlessnight ★ @riawrld ★ @darkuni63 ★ @minshookie29 ★

Divider credits: @cafekitsune ★ @bernardsbendystraws ★

Masterlist

Yandere Twin Brother who was already attached to you from the womb; when your parents went to their appointments with the OB they always saw him by your side even in an ultrasound (that your mother framed) it looks like you are holding his little hands.

Yandere Twin Brother who when he was born (just five minutes before you) cried at the top of his lungs and his cries only calmed down a little when you were born and he heard you cry.

Yandere Twin Brother who shared the same crib with you (although your parents bought one for each of you) when you were babies since he always cried if they separated him from you.

Yandere Twin Brother who comforted you when you cried on the first day at daycare because you missed your parents and you were scared; he hugged you rubbing your back with his little hand and promised you with his pinky that he would always take care of you.

"Don't cry sis! Everything will be okay, I'm with you. I promise I'll scold our parents for doing this to you! Please don't cry..."

Yandere Twin Brother who never let anyone bother you or get close to you at daycare; one day a boy pulled your pigtails making you cry and your upset brother pushed him to the ground and another boy approached your bully and bit him (two teachers had to make him let go)

Yandere Twin Brother who only had one exception to the rule and allowed him to get close to you; that exception was Jamie a boy his age who seemed enchanted with you and became friends with your brother after biting the boy who bothered you.

Yandere Twin Brother who from that day on basically spent all his time with you and Jamie; They were the three musketeers, as you grew up you became even closer (if that was possible) and Jamie's feelings for you became more obvious (to everyone but you) your brother liked to tease Jamie.

"Maybe my sister doesn't like you because of your idiotic face, she has good taste you know?"

"Oh shut up! I'm really handsome and she's just shy, plus we all know you're the ugly one of the group"

"EH?!—"

Yandere Twin Brother who like you and Jamie was quite popular at university; although he was surrounded by girls he never put them above you and always spent time with you; also he and Jamie were howling at your suitors constantly (much to your annoyance)

Yandere Twin Brother who got furious when he saw Jamie flirting with another girl and even kissed her, how could he do this to you?! (it's true that you don't even know that he loves you, but it's still wrong, okay..?) He approached angrily, when Jamie saw him she greeted him only to receive a strong punch in the face.

Yandere Twin Brother who started a fight with Jamie when he recovered from the shock of the blow, both began to punch and hit each other while yelling at each other, some students ran to separate them.

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?! YOU THINK YOU CAN TELL ME YOU LOVE MY SISTER AND THE NEXT DAY BE WITH A BITCH?!"

"IT WAS JUST A THING! WHAT DO YOU CARE ABOUT IT?! SHE AND I ARE NOTHING YET!"

"YET?! YOU THINK YOU'LL HAVE SOMETHING WITH MY SISTER AFTER THIS?! I'M GOING TO FUCK KILL YOU!"

Yandere Twin Brother who tried to break free to hit him again but they both held him firmly; a teacher arrived and they were both taken to the infirmary, a smile slipped across your brother's bruised lip when the nurse said that Jamie's nose was broken.

Yandere Older Brother who looks at you embarrassed when you enter the infirmary with judging eyes asking you both what happened but you don't answer and you end up asking them if they fought over a girl and they both answer at the same time exalted.

"NO!"

"NO!!!"

Yandere Twin Brother who ends up making up a random excuse for why you two fought and Jamie nods his head agreeing with him; you on the other hand look at them unconvinced before sighing and rolling your eyes; after being treated you both are called to the dean's office and end up being suspended for two weeks.

Yandere Twin Brother who when you leave the office approaches you along with Jamie who tries to joke a little about the situation (to calm the waters with your brother) but your brother ignores him taking you by the arm and leading you towards the exit while Jamie follows them.

"Well, it's not so bad we can spend more time together, right?"

"Shut your mouth Jamie, don't talk to this idiot sister."

"Hey, wait for me, don't leave me!"

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missnxthingg · 8 months ago

Note

Gal I need lando fluff as well could u do taking care of him when he’s sick and he’s all tired and clingy

needy | LN4

pairing: Lando Norris x Female!Reader summary: After a busy month, all Lando needs is his girlfriend to take care of him words: 1 K - warnings: Sick Lando and lots of cuteness (also not proof read, sorry) author’s notes: I'm so sorry for the delay, it was a busy & unplanned week at work. But here we are, just in time to celebrate our favourite boy's birthday

main masterlist | main blog | taglist

Triple headers always hit quite hard on Lando. Since he joined Formula 1, he doesn't remember a single time he didn't end up sick after almost a month travelling around the world. And this time it wasn't different; he started having a fever the morning after he arrived from Brazil and stayed in bed all day.

Y/N found it odd to not find him in his usual state of relaxation after a full month of work: locked inside his dark gaming room, full of snacks and laughing with Max. Instead, he was wrapped around three blankets in their living room, body almost lifeless on the sofa as he watched a boring movie on TV.

“Oh, baby boy, are you feeling okay?”, she asked, putting her things down so she could check on him.

Lando smiled tired at her and shrugged, too tired to even say something. She knew he was getting sick, especially after he spent the entire flight home – and their night of sleep – coughing. She just didn’t expect for it to be that bad, to the point where the most chatty boy in the world would go speechless.

“Have you eaten?”, she ran her hands through his face and he nodded tiredly. Then she found the empty yogurt cup beside him and rolled her eyes. “A yogurt isn't eating, Lando”.

“Come cuddle, baby”, he mumbled, wrapping one of his hands around her wrist.

“I'm worried about you, my love”, she ran her hands through his curls, making him open a tired smile. “I swear to God, every triple header is the same. I won't let you go anymore”.

“It's just a way my body found of telling I'm tired”, he assured. “If you come cuddle, then I'll be fine”.

“Later, baby. I have to make lunch for us”, she pressed a kiss on top of his head and Lando whined loudly. “Stop being a baby!”

“You're evil”.

Y/N started taking things out of the fridge to start cooking their lunch, and Lando suddenly appeared behind her, wrapping his hands around her waist from behind and resting his head on the crook of her neck. She smiled at the gesture and cuddled into his touch as she cut some onions.

“Ouches my eyes”, he cried, making her giggle just before she stopped cutting the onions, to put it in the hot pan. “What are you doing?”

“Caramelized onion and creamy cheese pasta”, she revealed, making him open a big smile. “A favourite for my sick boy”.

“You're the best, baby. I love you so much”, he pressed a kiss on her shoulder, but didn't let go off her, choosing to stay glued to her side as she cooked.

“Lan, it's a bit hard to cook with you clinging onto me”, she chuckled. “Maybe sit right there and keep me company. Then I'll give you as many cuddles as you want”.

“Mmm, okay”, he smiled tiredly, finding a spot to sit close to her, as he observed her cooking. Travelling the world is nice, but he loved coming home to the love of his life, who always took the best care of him.

Suddenly, he was taken back to the early dates of their relationship, when she’d invite him over for dinner and cook him the easiest pasta that, in time, became his comfort food. That’s exactly what he needed after a long month away from home, and away from her, since she only came to the first race in Austin. His heart felt at ease when she served him a plate and found a spot next to him.

“Thank you”, he mumbled before attacking the food. “It’s so good to be home. It’s so good to be with you”.

“I was counting the seconds until you were back to me”, she pressed a kiss to his cheek and cuddled to his side as they ate in silence, just feeling each other’s presence. He learned to appreciate silence after loud days as he rested next to his favourite girl. “Are you feeling better?”

“My throat is sore, and it feels like I was hit by a truck”, he joked. “The headache is gone, though”.

“I’ll use my super healing powers to make you feel better”, she sprinkled kisses through his face, making him open a genuine smile for the first time that day. But just before she kissed him on the lips, he backed away.

“You’ll get sick, baby”.

“It will be worth it, then”, she declared, before sealing their lips into a sweet kiss. Lando had missed those lips more than anything, and if she was willing to take the risk of getting sick, then he’s not arguing about it. “I love you, my sweet boy”.

“I love you too, beautiful”, he pecked her lips once again and took a second to analyse her face from up close; the face he adored so much. “Now, can we please cuddle?”

“Yes, my whiny baby, we can”.

Lando wanted to sweep her off her feet and take her to the couch, but felt too weak to do so. Y/N almost had to do this to him to get him to stand up and walk. He collapsed onto their couch and was too tired to open his arms to invite his girlfriend to join. She still found her spot next to him and pulled him closer, until they were tangled together between the blankets.

She pressed soft kisses all over his face and watched his lips tiredly curve into a smile, just as he felt a little better to have her taking care of him. They didn't even notice they forgot to turn on the TV.

“I'm so glad you're finally home”, she whispered. “This place is too quiet without you. I don't like it”.

“I'm happy to be back with my home”, he pressed his fingers to her skin and she smiled at him. “You're the best. I missed you so much that I might as well take you with me next time”.

“Anything so we can be together”, she said. “Sleep, baby, I'll be here holding you”.

“I love you so much. You're my everything, the love of my life, the sweetest…”, he continued to list various things about her and fell asleep mid-sentence.

“I love you more, Lan”, she pressed one last kiss on his forehead before falling asleep too.

⤿ add yourself to the taglist!

#lando norris #ln4 #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando norris comfort #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #lando norris fluff #ln4 x reader #ln4 x y/n #ln4 x you #lando norris blurb

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rosenclaws · 9 months ago

Text

Don't hide from me || Logan Howlett x Reader

summary: You get hurt on a mission and hide it from Logan. Safe to say he is not happy with you.

warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, talk of violence, blood, and injury

wc: 3k

a/n: Hi guys, tw for pet death but we had to put my childhood dog to sleep today. He was 16 and he had a good life but it's rough. Writing has always helped me so I just sat down and wrote today. I'm always a sucker for this kind of trope and I also have trouble asking for help so this was born. Idk if I like the ending but I always struggle with those so oopsie

This was not how you imagined your first mission to go. You had assumed it would be easy, boring in fact. It was supposed to be boring. Maybe a little fighting here or there but nothing serious.

Well you were sorely mistaken. Your hand puts pressure on your side as you lean against a tree. The rough bark digging into the cuts on your suit. You wince as you look down to see a massive gash right in your stomach.

"Fuck." Your breath is labored as you slowly slide down the tree. You don't heal like some of the other mutants can. In fact your powers were relatively tame compared to others but you were still an asset to the team.

You had been training for months and months. Learning to control your sparks into blasts of energy and manipulate the electricity around you. You had never been more excited to receive your suit. Handed to you by Logan himself after your final training day.

The proud look on his face made your whole body fill with butterflies. Logan had been your biggest help. He was a very distracting teacher though due to the fact that he's your boyfriend too but if anything that made him push you harder.

"Come on sweetheart, you need to do better than that." He says with a smirk. He's barely broken a sweat while you've been giving it a hundred and ten percent.

"Fuck off." You huff as you lay down on the mat. Body exhausted from the hours of training.

"You're getting better. Just need to keep working." He steps over you, bending down and holding out his hand.

"One more time and we're done." He helps you up and kisses your forehead. Walking back to his spot he raises his arms and braces himself.

"Hit me." Taking a deep breath you channel all your power to your fingertips. Feeling the jolts of power start to form. With all your strength you fire right at Logan. To your surprise it hits him square in the chest and sends him flying into the wall.

"Logan!" You run over to him but he's already up by the time you make it. A big smile on his face as he wraps his arms around you. A burst of pride in your chest as he kisses you sweetly.

"I knew you could do it."

It made it even sweeter when you were finally deemed ready to join them. You were ready. You wanted to prove to all of them that you could do it but most of all you wanted to show Logan.

Show him that all his extra training helped and that you were strong and you could do this on your own. He had always shown a slight worry about you joining the team. He says it's because he's worried and protective but a small part of your brain tells you it's because he thinks you can't do it. That you're not ready.

So this. Well it almost felt embarrassing. The mission was nothing new to the rest of the team but to you it was overwhelming. Fighting with everything you had and sometimes it felt like it wasn’t enough. You took out soldier after soldier but they kept coming. But you were fine. You never asked for backup. Convincing yourself that you could do this. Thinking back to all your long days in the simulation and wiping away any doubt that lingered in your head.

Logan had left your side early on much to his reluctance so you were on your own. You were too focused on the guy in front of you that you didn't notice the man sneaking behind you. You cried out in pain as he dug his knife into your side.

Without thinking you blast him far away, taking out the guy in front of you too. Pure adrenaline courses through you as you run to safety. Now you're here, the sounds of fighting still rage on behind you. Blood is seeping onto your hand at a faster rate than normal.

"Okay. Okay. Okay okay." Sorry Professor but you'll fix your suit later. Your sleeve was already torn so you tear the rest as much of it as you can off. Turning it into one long strip of fabric. You unzip the top of your suit to get to the wound. They briefly taught you how to patch up injuries more akin to scratches not stab wounds. You tie the fabric tightly around your waist. You groan as the pressure shoots a sharp pain through your body. The sounds of fighting were dying down.

You know you should tell someone but the last thing you wanted was to be taken off the team after your first mission. You wanted to make them proud. You loved being on the team.

The injury isn't that bad, if you could just make it back to the mansion you would be fine. Patch it up with the right material and then sleep it off. Thank god you and Logan didn't share a room. Fuck. Logan. He was going to kill you but what he didn't know won't hurt him.

Just this once.

Zipping up your suit again you take a few deep breaths to calm yourself. Just make it back to the mansion. You walk as best you can back to the jet. Your limping, favoring your non injured side and it's incredibly obvious. Still you put a smile on your face. The team clocks your ripped sleeve immediately. Logan scowls as you get closer making you shiver. Or maybe that was from the blood loss.

"So how was that for your first mission?" Scott beams as he walks over to you. He slaps his hand onto your shoulder and you wince.

"Good. Is it always like this?" He notices something's off but doesn't say anything. Instead he keeps his hand on your shoulder as he guides you back to the jet.

"You alright Sparks? What happened to your suit." He asks when you get closer.

"Long story, some guy ripped it and when I ran to the forest it got caught and just. tore away." You lie right through your teeth.

"Don't worry we'll fix it when we get back." Ororo smiles and you thank god they bought it. Well almost everyone bought it.

As you head up the ramp you feel a hand on your side. Your whole body tenses as pain shoots through your side. You bite your lip hard to keep yourself from screaming. You recognize the hand as Logan's as his wide chest bumps against your back.

"You alright sweetheart?" He asks, a skeptical look on his face as you wave his hand off.

"Yeah, just really tired." You sigh as you sit in a chair.

Some relief spreads through your body as you subtly press the arm of the chair into your side. Putting more pressure as you feel the blood soak through your makeshift bandage. He narrows his eyes as he inspects you like an animal. Your heart picks up as he places both hands on either arm rest, caging you in as he leans close.

"What are you doing?" You shrink under his intense look. He sniffs and a low growl emits from his throat.

"I smell blood. Somethings wrong." Fuck. He's caught you. The rest of the team starts to file back in.

"Yeah there's blood on everyone's suit, there's blood on you." You mumble as an excuse.

"Down boy, we're taking off so take a seat." Scott says. Logan stays put for just a moment longer before he finally backs off, flipping Scott the middle claw as he takes the seat behind you.

You can feel his eyes burning in the back of your head the whole flight home. You were sweating, body on fire as you focused on your breathing. The pain was getting worse and you wanted to cry for help. But you were determined to prove yourself here.

Your brain wasn't exactly working right either. Too focused on not throwing up to think logically. Finally the jet lands. You're so close. Just a little longer. Logan moves to go right back to your side but gets pulled away. You can vaguely hear him telling someone to fuck off as you stumble out of the jet.

You feel like a zombie as you walk back to your room. Stomach growing sick as you struggle to stay awake. Sweat pours down your face, body screaming for help as you barely make it to your room. Your vision goes in and out. The darkness calling to you as you swing open your door. That sounds nice, you can just close your eyes and sleep. Yeah. Then you can fix yourself up. Your vision goes black. The last thing you remember is someone yelling your name.

The first thing you notice when you come back to consciousness is how much your body hurts. The second thing was the hand that was holding yours tightly. Clearly you weren't in your room anymore. This bed is too uncomfortable and it smells too much like antiseptic.

The lab. You were in a hospital bed in the lab which means that someone found you which can only mean that Logan knew and you were in so much trouble. Maybe if you keep your eyes closed you can just go back to sleep. The urge to avoid the consequences of your actions was strong but you knew you couldn't. You lied and now you have to deal with it.

Surprisingly it's dim when you open your eyes. The ugly florescent lighting was off in favor of a few candles and a soft lamp. The hand holding yours twitched, holding you tighter. Looking to your side you see Logan laying his head on the bed. Guilt seeps into your soul when you see him there.

"Glad to see you awake." A soft voice says from the door.

"Jean." You sheepishly say. She flicks on the lights and you squint your eyes at the bright light.

"You're lucky that Logan found you when he did." Her voice is gentle but there's anger hidden behind it.

"I'm sorry. I thought." You sigh and look at Logan who was still sleeping.

"I thought I could handle it. I just wanted to be one of you guys." "You already were one of us, but we're just glad you're okay." She checks your vitals once more in silence.

"Am I in trouble?" You ask nervously.

"Yes." Another voice makes your heart jump, the monitor picking it up with a massive spike.

"Logan honey I-" He holds up his hand and silently asks Jean to leave. She gives you one last smile before leaving the two of you alone.

"Don't. Don't you dare." You shrink into the bed as speaks.

"What the hell were you thinking?"

"I-"

"Hiding a fucking stab wound? For what? Exactly what did you think would happen here!" He raises his voice and you look down in shame.

"You are benched. Permanently." He growls, standing up and storming towards the door.

"What! Logan you can't do that."

"Fuck yes I can. Do you understand how stupid it was for you to hide an injury like that? How irresponsible you were!"

"I thought I could handle it!" The machines near you started to go haywire as you yelled back.

"I thought you were dead!" You go silent as the anger fades, he clenches his fists tightly.

"I smelled the blood and I knew something was wrong. The whole time I knew it. There was a trail of blood to your room and I ran and ran and when I finally got there." He pauses. Not even wanting to say the next thought.

"I'm sorry." You whisper.

You reach out for him but he just stares at you. A painful expression on his face as his eyes zero in on the prominent scar on your side. He shakes his head, turning away and walking out the door.

"Logan please." You beg for him to come back but he doesn't.

The lab is silent and lonely. Jean comes back to check on you, comforting you as you silently cry. All you want is for Logan to come back but he never did.

At least not while you were awake. In the mornings there were traces of Logan. His jacket is left on your bed the one you always steal to cuddle with. Snacks are waiting by your table. Little things to show you had still been there. Just not when you were awake.

It was only a couple days later that you were finally discharged. The Professor had called you to his office, letting you know that you were benched until you had fully recovered and you nodded in understanding. You can feel the stares of the rest of the mansion on you as you walk back to your room.

You've apologized over and over to the team and they welcomed you back with open arms. Begging you to never scare them like that again. Your mind wanders and your feet seem to think on their own as you find yourself in front of Logan's door.

All you want is for him to hold you and to tell you it's okay. Before you can knock on the door it swings open. There he stands in all his glory. He stares at you for a moment before pulling you into a hug. It takes you by surprise but you hug him back tighter. You wince as he pushes a little too hard on your side and he lets go instantly. You don't want to let go, he's been gone for days and you need him.

"I'm here to apologize." You say.

"I'm sorry for not saying anything. I was afraid that you would think I'm weak." It hurts to admit but he needs to know the truth. Asking for help has never been your strong suit.

"That I wasn't strong enough and all I wanted was to prove to you that I could do it. I wanted you to be proud of me." You wait for any response but all he does is look at you. Silently he guides you to his bed. Wrapping a blanket around your shoulders that smells like him.

"When I found you, you weren't moving. There was so much blood. You were barely breathing." He shivers at the memory.

He doesn't think he'll ever get the smell of your blood and the sight of you sprawled out on the ground out of his mind. It's burned there. Every time he closes his eyes he sees it. He ran through the mansion. Begging for help with you in his arms.

They kicked him out once he brought you to the lab. He was close to breaking down the damn doors. He had super strength and a raging healing factor but he'd never felt so powerless before. When they finally let him back in he rushed to the bed. He never left your side. Watching and waiting for you to wake up. Begging you to wake up.

Was this his fault? If he had been by your side would he have been able to help? Or is this just the price of this life. To be a mutant and having to fight just to live. Losing you was not an option but it was becoming a reality he had to accept was possible.

"I'm always proud of you. Doesn't matter what you do. I'm always proud." You tug on his tank top and pull him close.

Kissing him with a soft passion, a desire, an apology. He carefully lowers you down to the bed. He lays you on your side as he deepens the kiss, hand ghosting over the scar as he tangles his limbs with yours.

"I'm so sorry Logan." You bury your head in his chest.

It feels so good to be by his side again. He tilts your head up to look at him. He grows serious as he brushes your cheek gently. You're alive but there's still a horrible worry inside of him. Though he doesn't think that will ever go away. Not as long as he loves you and he's never going to stop doing that.

"Don't ever do something like this again. I'm serious sweetheart, I can't lose you."

"You won't." You can't promise him that. Not at all. Bad things happen to those he loves but he'll be damned if he lets anything happen to you. You yawn and cuddle closer to his side.

"How can I still be so tired after sleeping for so long?"

"You really hurt yourself sweetheart," He glances at your side. Knowing that under the blanket was a scar that would never fade. A constant reminder of his own failure to protect you.

"I'm sorry for leaving," He knows it was a dick move to leave has he had done but he couldn't take it. He was so angry. So afraid.

"Just don't leave me again." You say sleepily. His arms wrap around you, his hand rubbing your back soothingly until you fall asleep. He watches you for a while. Not tired himself but keeping his promise of staying with you.

"I was so scared," He admits to no one but himself.

He rests his chin on your head. The sound of your heartbeat echoes in his ears. The sweet reminder that you're okay. He closes his eyes as the nightmares in his mind return. Seeing your lifeless body. The blood. All of it. He tries to shake them away but the thoughts still linger.

"Please, don't leave me. I love you too much to let you go." He whispers his plea to himself, to you, to whoever is listening.

He kisses the top of your head and you smile in your sleep. The comfort of Logan reaching your dreams. That's good enough for him, as long as you're okay. That's all he needs.

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #logan howlett angst #logan howlett x you

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bvidzsoo · 3 months ago

Text

His car isn't yours

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: Song Mingi x female reader x Choi Jongho

☂︎ Warning: cursing, very lightly suggestive, toxic relationship ☂︎ Word count: 16k ☂︎ Rating: nc-17 ☂︎ Genre: angst, fluffy at times, established relationship, dysfunctional relationship, breakup, lovers to exes, strangers to friends to lovers, @cromernet ☂︎ Summary: Mingi had been the man of your dreams...he was, until he wasn't. Perhaps he had always been like this and you just hadn't noticed until now, three years into your relationship. What can you do when you realise the love of your life is seeing other girls behind your back? What can you do when your heart cries out but his doesn't respond...His doesn't, but someone else's does. And he...he is a good guy, he'll treat you right...right? And despite the newly budding love between you and Jongho, all you could think was: It wasn't your car...

A/N: Hello, my lovelies! Finishing March with this story is quite jarring after our fluffy March event with Mina ahaha, but I've had this idea for a looong time (precisely ever since Wendy's song came out lol, please give it a listen to get the feels for this oneshot!) and I finally sat down to write it. Writting this felt a little bittersweet, I'm not going to lie, it hits close to home at certain points in the story. I like what I tried to do with this oneshot, so I hope whoever gives it a read will also enjoy reading it. I appreciate your feedback greatly, so don't be shy and share it with me! Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy ^^ (but before that, check out the visual board I created for the story!) divider

☂︎ Visual board ☂︎

I'm waiting on this good guy to come pick me up...

The cafeteria was a cacophony of sounds as it was filled to the brim with students; its vastness was less obvious, as there were now few tables left unoccupied. It was warm both outside and inside, so the windows were open to let in the fresh breeze, as well as to air out the various food scents that mingled together. I sighed as I let my head fall back slightly, eyes shifting onto the window behind me. The trees were in full bloom, soon it would be summer, and the break was getting closer and closer. I couldn’t wait to step away from the strenuous studying and the annoying professors for a few months, it was a well-earned rest that both my mind and body were craving. The birds resting on the branches of the tall oak tree outside the window were chirping to each other, their songs filling the space if you paid close attention to them. I smiled to myself as I blocked out the laughter coming from across me, content with detaching myself from everything that was happening around me. I was tired, I hadn’t gotten nearly enough sleep after I had stayed up last night to fix a project due today, for which my teammates were unable to take responsibility. It wasn’t surprising, despite being at university, most people still acted like they were in high school. I hated irresponsible people, and I hated even more the fact that I had always been a people-pleaser.

A slight jostle to my left shoulder snapped my attention back to the present, and my eyes slowly trailed towards the man sitting to my left. Our shoulders brushed together as his long arm was draped over the back of my chair, the exposed skin of his arms warm to the touch. Mingi’s cologne was familiar and comforting, and I felt myself smile a little as our eyes met for a quick second. He was in a heated conversation with Wooyoung over something I hadn’t paid enough attention to be able to tell, his leg bouncing up and down. He seemed annoyed for some reason, his eyebrows furrowing every now and then as Wooyoung seemed to be denying something that Mingi was adamant on knowing. I leaned back comfortably into my chair, left hand landing on Mingi’s leg as I softly started tracing patterns into his dark jeans as a way to try and calm his irritated state. Seonghwa, sitting next to Wooyoung, was watching me with a curious glint in his eyes.

“Have you gotten little sleep last night?” He asked when he realised he had my attention, and I sighed, nodding with a pout.

“Yeah, I had to make last-minute touch-ups to a project.” I sighed again, feeling my dry eyes cry out for the eye drops that I had forgotten at home in my haste this morning, “I barely got five hours of sleep.”

Seonghwa’s expression was sympathetic, “Ah, I get it. I’m always so grumpy when I don’t get enough sleep. What were your teammates doing? Did you do it alone?”

Mingi suddenly laughed next to me, and I realised his leg stopped bouncing. I kept my hand on it, though, fingers curling into the rough fabric of his jeans as I felt the need to hold onto something.

“What were they up to?” I chuckled dryly, “Doing something else, I don’t know, everyone ignored me in the group chat.”

“Fucking assholes.” Seonghwa scoffed, and I chuckled as it was unusual for him to swear. His pink hair was getting in his eyes as he was leaning over the table, cradling his box of fried rice with vegetables to his chest as if he was afraid anyone would try and take it from him. Given the fact that he was sitting between Wooyoung and Yeri, the chances of him losing his lunch were high, “Refuse to work with them next time.”

“Oh, I will, don’t worry.” I nodded with an exasperated look on my face as Yeri started giggling, holding her phone out for me to see.

“Look!” It was a video of our friend, Seokmin, drunk and rolling around on the front lawn of a random person. He was cackling like a maniac in the video, cradling something I couldn’t tell to his chest, until suddenly the front porch light was turned on and a man came out looking furious.

“Get off my fucking property before I call the cops on you, kiddo!” The man screamed, pointing at Seokmin before his eyes found the one who was recording. Based on the giggles, the people behind the camera were Yeri and probably Chan as well, since the two went everywhere together. I shook my head with an amused smile as Yeri continued to giggle, pulling her phone away.

“When was this?” I asked, feeling Mingi shift next to me, his thick fingers lightly brushing against my shoulder. His deep voice wasn’t as distracting as it used to be when we first started dating. It used to be hard to pay attention to anyone else if he was speaking. But maybe that had to do with the pink haze that had clouded my mind at the beginning of our relationship. I had fallen hard for him, and I had gotten lost for a quick second until I realised I couldn’t let my emotions dictate my life this much.

“Last night,” Yeri answered, eyes on her phone as she was scrolling through whatever, “You didn’t come out with us.”

Right, the ‘gang’ had gone out to get drinks last night. If I wouldn’t have had to finish that project on my own, I probably would’ve had a little time to join them. There was no reason for regrets or resentments right now, and perhaps I was even glad I missed it as my eyes searched for Seokmin, his head resting on his arms as he snored, the sound loud as his mouth was angled at the table. I grinned in amusement and pushed Yeri’s foot under the table to get her attention. I nodded my head towards Seokmin, and she giggled again, leaning over the table to snap a picture of him. Baekhyun and Minseok were already drawing with a semi-permanent marker on Seokmin’s exposed cheek, snickering at each other quietly so as not to wake their friend. I snorted and shook my head, turning to look at my boyfriend when I saw movement in my peripheral vision. He wasn’t speaking to Wooyoung anymore since he was trying to target Seonghwa’s bowl of rice, whining and pouting at the pink-haired man, who was showing his teeth at Wooyoung like a vampire. Only the hissing was missing, and he’d be almost credible.

I watched as Mingi pulled his phone out of the pocket of his jeans, plump bottom lip between his teeth as his fingers moved quickly. I didn’t manage to get a glance at the name of the username, but when Mingi opened up the chat on Instagram, it didn’t take me long to realise he was speaking to a girl. A lump formed in my throat as my muscles tensed, and I was unable to look away as I watched the screen of his phone. There was a picture from the girl which he had opened already, and a text underneath which said, ‘Did u like what u saw, handsome?’. My jaw clenched and my heart froze for a second as I watched Mingi’s ring-clad fingers type back a quick ‘Not sure, mind showing me again?’. I released a shocked sigh, my heart clenching like it did so very often lately. My skin crawled, and I shifted in my seat to put distance between Mingi and myself, our eyes meeting just as he locked his phone. His expression said nothing as he studied my face for a second, then he smiled. Wide and innocent, eyes crinkling at the corner, crooked front teeth endearing. His nose scrunched as he leaned towards me, looking so happy that one would assume something had happened. But my bones were frozen, and I felt like I couldn’t breathe anymore. My heart squeezed tighter, and I flinched slightly when I felt his warm lips pressing a chaste kiss against mine.

I didn’t close my eyes, not because I didn’t want to but because I couldn’t. The question—the accusation—was on the tip of my tongue, but I just gulped as Mingi hummed in the back of his throat, tilting his head cutely. He looked confused, waiting for an explanation that wouldn’t come as I was unable to find my voice. And despite the way my heart was clenching a second ago, now it had started racing, making my ears ring. I could feel anger lick up my spine, raw and painful, but I ignored it as Mingi’s hand clasped around my shoulder and pulled me back into his side once again. His eyebrows had furrowed just as we both heard his phone buzz on top of the table, screen facing down, but neither one of us looked at it. He pouted, then pressed a loud kiss to my cheek, and I felt numb as he turned back to whatever conversation Minseok was having with the rest of the boys, their voices loud and making my head thump. Seonghwa had been watching us, his expression troubled as he looked at Mingi for a second too long. Our eyes met and I had to quickly avert mine as I felt tears spring into them.

Mingi hadn’t even noticed yet that I was so tired I could barely keep my eyes open. We had met up this morning to have breakfast before our classes started.

It hadn’t always been like this. All the mistrust and questions had stirred up quite recently, when I had noticed Mingi started lying about where he was and what he was doing. It was an innocent finding. Yeri and I had been discussing sharing our location with each other when she had gone on a date with a guy she didn’t know well, and while I was sharing mine with her, I remembered that Mingi and I were also sharing it. Out of boredom and knowing he was home doing homework, I went and looked at his location. Instead of finding him at home, he was at a bowling alley. It wasn’t like we told each other absolutely everything; that wasn’t necessary. We both had our private lives outside of our relationship, and we were both people who needed privacy and a little time away from our partners—freedom, if you will. So, when I texted him and teasingly asked him what he had been up to assuming he was there with the boys, I was left confused when he answered that he was in bed, watching some shitty movie that came out recently. Not thinking much of it, I had dropped the subject at that time, only to find myself checking his location again days later.

And each time I assumed he was at home or in the garage, fixing up or upgrading his car, he wasn’t. At least not based on the location his phone was showing. So, the mistrust and jealousy had started then because I couldn’t help myself. I rarely asked, and when I did, he’d either very cleverly twist my words and play the victim, or he’d change the topic in such a way that I’d only hours later realise what he had done, and that I still hadn’t gotten answers to his secretive behaviour. It wasn’t right, it felt wrong, and I was hurting the more he hid things from me. Mingi was a handsome guy, I had known that from the start, and I was also aware that due to his charming personality, girls flocked to him all the time. That hadn’t been an issue in the past, I quite enjoyed the fact that he was dating me despite all the attention he was getting…until I wasn’t anymore. Back when we had started finally dating, it had taken us quite a while to get there. The way we had met was by chance at university, on a late afternoon when my car wouldn’t start up. As he was quite into cars and knew how to fix them up, he had offered to help me out without asking for anything in exchange. It turns out, my battery had died and needed recharging, which his BMW e36 was nothing but good for.

And after that, as if the universe wanted us to meet again, Mingi would be everywhere I went. He would be at the library whenever I went there to work on a project or paper, he’d be entering the cafeteria at the same time as me, he’d be at the pub when I went out with my friends, he’d even be at some of the parties I went to, and despite the campus being relatively large, our classes would be held in the same building unlike before. It had started as a small nod of our heads and the polite inquiring acquittances did—like, how was your day or how are you doing—and then it gradually turned into us stopping if we crossed paths to exchange more than just pleasantries, our nods turned into friendly hugs which sometimes lasted for too long, follow requests on Instagram, and then into questions if the other was free to hangout soon. Somehow, it was rather hard to get a hold of Mingi at first. Even though we’d agree on plans, going for a walk or just grabbing coffee, he’d find an excuse for which he couldn’t make it. I hadn’t really thought about dating Mingi at first, but in the end, I fell for his charming personality.

It was hard to say no to him, to not feel your heart race when he absentmindedly fixed your collar or brushed your hair out of your face, to not smile shily when he squeezed you as he hugged you. His eyes had always held an intensity, sharp and dark as they watched you from up close or from afar, his bottom lip between his teeth as he studied you. And it had taken me some time to figure out whether all the teasing coming from his part was merely part of his personality, or if it had meant more than that. Despite being grown-ups, I couldn’t tell whether Mingi was still too young to maturely ask me out. And the fact that he acted with other girls the same way as with me made everything harder and more confusing, often leaving me with a racing but confused heart. After months of dancing around each other, on one faithful evening, we had run into each other while we were both out for grocery shopping and he had offered to take me home. His car was a rich metallic blue, impeccably clean, and the paint job done clearly by a professional, as there were no imperfections to it. The model was an old one, but because it was maintained so well, it had made no difference. The car was longer than mine, the seats comfortable and low, as the car itself was closer to the ground. I had melted into the sporty passenger seat, admiring the interior, which was a mixture of black and dark brown. That evening, however, as we had cruised through the city with the windows rolled down and rock music playing in the background, he had asked a question I never thought I’d hear from him, “Want to be my girlfriend?”

That was three years ago, in our first year of university, and things have changed since then. It wasn’t as peaceful or as pink as it used to be, and I had no idea which way we were headed. I felt a bit nostalgic as the evening breeze was warm, the windows rolled down as Mingi steered the wheel, turning off the main road and onto a residential one as we neared my apartment complex. I tapped my fingers against the handle to the rhythm of the rock music playing through the old stereo, a song Mingi loved and had taken the time to copy onto the CD that it was currently playing from. The lyrics reflected my state of mind, the anger that was simmering just below the surface as I chewed on my bottom lip, sighing loudly as my building came into view. I felt Mingi’s hand grip my thigh, and I pulled my leg away, shaking his touch off. He remained silent, but the volume of the radio was turned down. I refused to look at him as I stared out the open window, heart beating slightly faster when he pulled up in front of the apartment complex and neither one of us made to move.

Another beat of silence passed before he sighed, “Baby, will you tell me what’s wrong?”

My eyebrows furrowed, and I turned my head to look at him with annoyance written all over my face, “Really? You have to ask what’s wrong? Isn’t it pretty fucking obvious?”

Mingi’s eyebrows rose at my aggressive words, and he tilted his head, “No, I—I wouldn’t be asking if I knew, baby. Did I do something wro—”

“Mingi, why the fuck were you flirting all night long with Ryujin?” I snapped, cutting him off before he could piss me off more. And yet, I felt my blood boil as Mingi’s eyes widened, his shoulders pulling up almost defensively.

“What are you talking about?” I closed my eyes to take a deep breath, and pushed his hand away when I felt fingers grazing my cheek, “Don’t deny my touch, you know I hate it—”

“And I hate it when you flirt with girls and let them be all over you despite having a girlfriend, baby.” I sneered, tone harsh and cold as Mingi flinched, acting like what I said was so harsh. I couldn’t deal with his theatrics at the moment and just stared him down, glare deepening the longer he tried to make himself seem innocent. He didn’t say anything right away, just jutted his lips out as he looked at me with sad eyes, making my skin buzz as my heart raced with anger coursing through my veins. Then, almost frighteningly, his expression slipped into something colder, something more detached and irritated.

“What do you want me to say?” He scoffed, leaning back into his seat as his thick eyebrows furrowed, “It’s not like you’ll believe me even if I say I wasn’t flirting with her. You always do this, Y/N, blame me for something that isn’t true and then expect me to give in to you. Don’t you think I’m becoming sick of it? That it hurts me? Do you not trust me?!”

I huffed in surprise, biting back my shout since I wanted to tell him that I didn’t trust him, not even a little bit. When I didn’t say anything because I was trying to gather my thoughts, he raised his eyebrows and gave me an almost expectant look. It only managed to make my blood boil more, so I undid my seatbelt and shook my head at him.

“You know what hurts me? This!” I snapped, grabbing the handle to get out of his car, “The fact that you keep denying and denying your own actions, making me feel like shit for rightfully calling out your behaviour which isn’t okay since you’re my partner, Mingi. But sure, make me the villain again, I’m already used to being the crazy and overbearing girlfriend who is always creating a scene by being jealous and not letting you have fun.”

Something changed in Mingi’s expression as I opened the door, pushing it open with all of my force since it worked a bit harder due to the car being from ‘99. With one foot out of the car, Mingi shifted, leaning over the centre console with something like fear and surprise on his face.

“Stop, wait.” He called out, his fingers wrapping around my forearm as he halted my actions. My jaw gritted as I turned my head to look at him, eyebrows furrowed, “I’m not doing it on purpose, it’s just that…you’ve changed. I don’t understand why that is, and you’re also not saying anything to me, I’m now always scared you’ll blow up in my face.”

My mouth opened in surprise hearing his words, and I had to take a second to reel in his words, to try and remain calm. I was the insane one again, the one acting out without being given a reason. I hummed, feeling all fight leave my body as tiredness overtook it, not in the mood to fight about this again. It wasn’t the first time; we’ve gone out multiple times lately, and Mingi would always find a random girl he’d flirt with, buy a drink for, and sometimes even dance with. But tonight, it had been Ryujin, someone we both knew, and the girl he knows I can’t stand. Before we had gotten together, she was very obviously pursuing Mingi, trying to get his attention anytime they were in the same room. She was all over him and laughing a bit too hard at his jokes, trailing his skin with her fingers suggestively. She was one of the reasons why I never took my dynamic with Mingi seriously, that is, until he asked me out. And given the fact that he had been sneakily texting someone this week, always brushing off the topic or asking whether he wasn’t allowed anymore to have friends, everything just bottled up and burst out of me tonight. I was sick of his behaviour; I was tired of overthinking every little thing when it came to Mingi and me.

“I’m going in,” I said after the prolonged silence, glancing down at Mingi’s hold on me, “Let me go, please.”

He gulped, his eyebrows furrowed, and then I was yanked forward as he kissed me hard, lips pressing against mine harshly. I didn’t want to kiss him back, so I didn’t, and Mingi pulled back when he realised I wasn’t reciprocating it, “I love you, my baby.”

His voice was whiny and sad, his eyes wet with unshed tears, and I nodded, prying his fingers off my forearm. I grabbed my purse from my lap and got out of his car, slamming the door unnecessarily hard. The loud engine of his car stalled, and that told me he wasn’t going to leave until I was inside the building. Unlike other times, I didn’t turn back around to wave at him or send him a flying kiss. My skin crawled where he had touched me, and it was my turn to have unshed tears in my eyes as I entered the apartment. When would he stop this nonsense? And why had he changed so much?

What was supposed to be a fun night out had turned into a sleepless night of question after question whirling in my head while Mingi blew up my phone, forcing me to put it on do not disturb.

Mingi wasn’t the man I had fallen for anymore. Perhaps it had always been there and I had failed to notice it until, or maybe it was something about me which made him act out. Our relationship had been more than lovely. In the past three years that we’ve been seeing each other, I could recall a dozen happy memories. He’d always bring me flowers if we decided to go for a date, we’d take late-night cruises throughout the city, ending up at the belvedere to gaze upon the lights, admiring the view of the river from up above. He’d be gentle and loving, showering me with kisses and compliments any time he could. He used to love to cuddle, he’d often come over just to lie in bed and talk about nothing while I lit a candle and popped some popcorn for us. He was attentive and supportive, always the first person to cheer me on or watch over me while I worked on my project. And yet, what we had, it seems like that wasn’t enough for him. Despite the silent treatment from my side after our argument, he acted like nothing ever happened. He was still his cheery and carefree self, kissing me on the lips as if I didn’t carry resentment for him.

I didn’t bring it up again, so he didn’t either. I could tell he was actively ignoring the giant gap between us, and he made anything he could to fill it with love once again. Taking me to my favourite patisserie store, going to great lengths to get me my favourite flower which only blooms during spring, even missing one day of classes just so that we could go and watch the rally hours away from our city. He was trying his best, and yet, it didn’t seem to help. Even when the words I love you spilled from his mouth, his thrust deep and slow, eyes shining with adoration and shaking with desperation, it still wasn’t enough. I couldn’t unravel in front of him, I came undone under his hands, but it didn’t feel like before. The tears in my eyes weren’t from pleasure but from all the questions tainting my mind, making me refuse his advances the more he pushed. I just couldn’t help but wonder if he’s been cheating on me all this time. He had always been a flirty person, that much I knew. But before, he always made it clear that it was just friendly banter and that he already had someone he loved and cherished. Now, it all felt hush-hush, as if he was trying to hide me from the world. I saw the way girls looked at him, the way they’d approach him so blatantly as if I wasn’t right next to him, and most importantly, I saw the way Mingi looked at them, laughed along with them, and touched them.

The library was cooped up today since exam week was right around the corner, and I couldn’t wait to get out of the stuffy room once I was done catching up with some much-needed studying. My backpack was heavy due to it being filled with textbooks and my old laptop, and my fingers curled around my tall thermos as I sipped on my much-needed homemade coffee. I was all for saving up these days, things were getting too pricey, and Mingi’s birthday was around the corner. I wanted to buy him something unique and long-lasting. Getting to the ground floor, I was just about to turn left and head for the outdoor patio to join my friends, when my eyes caught someone familiar. It was Mingi, his coral-coloured knitted sweater, form-fitting and comfy, making him look all fluffy when he wore it. It was probably one of my favourite clothing articles of his, and he knew this, so he often wore it around me. Today had been colder since it’s been raining for the past few days, and Mingi got easily cold. His backpack was thrown around one shoulder, fingers holding the strap tightly, rings decorating his thick fingers, and his black jeans fit him like a second skin, showing off his good proportions. I smiled to myself, about to call out his name, when I realised he wasn’t alone.

Next to him stood a girl with dark hair, burgundy highlights in it, half-way tied up as her hair looked slightly greasy even from afar. She was thin, a lot shorter than Mingi, and her skirt reached her ankles as a satchel bag sat around her shoulder, brushing against her hip. She wore a black crop top, a cardigan around her frail form as she was saying something to Mingi, hiding her mouth behind her hands as she suddenly laughed. I watched her for a second longer, realising that I knew her. Her name was Arin, and they knew each other. She and Mingi had dated for a month, back when we weren’t very close with each other. Based on what Mingi had told me, they didn’t click, so they never went further than a kiss and a few dates. Despite believing Mingi, I knew it wasn’t just that for Arin. She liked him, it was obvious in the way she looked at him, in the way she carried herself if Mingi was around. They might not have clicked in Mingi’s mind, but to Arin, she still wasn’t over him. And watching from afar, it became clear that whatever they were talking about had Mingi’s attention as he smirked, running his fingers through his outgrown hair. The front strands fell in his eyes, dark and soft to the touch. He licked his lips just as Arin reached out, touching the fabric at Mingi’s bicep and picking something off of it.

Mingi didn’t flinch; he looked down and took a small step towards her, lessening the distance between their bodies. I felt something drop in the pit of my stomach, coiling like when you were cramping up from your period. My fingers tightened around my thermos, and I felt my heart rate gradually pick up as I continued to watch the two. I was standing in the way of those coming down the staircase, and a guy apologised as he bumped into me, so I decided to step aside while I reached for my phone. It was in my back pocket, my hand trembled as I unlocked it without taking my eyes off Mingi and Arin. He was shifting from his left foot to his right, then he started nudging her shoe with his. I quickly opened my messaging app and then clicked on Mingi’s name, ignoring his last message, which I hadn’t read until now. It said, I’m busy all day, but you could come over tonight.

Peeling my eyes off Mingi and Arin, I chewed on my bottom lip and quickly typed out a ‘What are you up to right now?’. I waited, raising my head to look at Mingi again. He was in the middle of reaching out for Arin’s hair, but at the ding of his phone, he smiled sheepishly and looked down, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. Arin watched expectantly as Mingi said something to her, then he unlocked his phone and started typing. I watched the three bubbles appear on my screen and calmed down for a second. Maybe I was overreacting. Mingi was a friendly person; if it hadn’t been like this before, I wouldn’t have become so jealous and worried if I saw him interacting like this with another girl. Maybe I was the issue, maybe Mingi was right all along. I had to fix my problems before I would lose Mingi. The bubbles disappeared and Mingi’s message came through just as Arin peeked at his screen, making Mingi pull his phone towards his chest so she wouldn’t see.

‘I’m in the library catching up on some material. Professor Ahn is after my ass, it’s really annoying. What are you up to, baby?’

At first, I didn’t react. I didn’t know how to. A surprised huff left my lips, and I smiled, feeling my hand tremors worsen as I took a step back to be able to lean against the wall. Then, looking up from my phone to see Mingi’s fingers dance down Arin’s arm forced a hysterical laugh out from my lips. I was frozen, with a racing heart in my throat, and my eyes blurred as I looked down at my phone. What was the purpose of it all? I gulped, pushing off the wall and heading for the exit instead of the back patio, my legs feeling heavy as they carried me down another flight of stairs.

‘Meet me in the parking lot, right now.’ I didn’t look back to see Mingi’s reaction as I pocketed my phone; I couldn’t even see in front of me as my brain worked on muscle memory. I pushed the double doors open, forcing my way through the small opening and hurting my shoulder in the process, but I didn’t register the pain as I turned to the left, headed for the parking lot, which I could see from my spot. People looked at me weirdly as I was trying to regulate my loud breathing, but I felt unable to do so as my heart raced and my hands shook. I didn’t understand anything at this point. Why would Mingi lie to me so blatantly? Did he think I’d get mad at him that he was speaking to Arin? Was I seriously a bad girlfriend, oblivious to my own restricting actions towards Mingi, which drove us to where we were now?

My eyes zeroed in on his blue BMW, and I hurried over, lump in my throat as I paced up and down while waiting for him. There was no guarantee he’d even check his phone again, but I’d wait for him here until his classes were over, then. I had to tell him, I had to ask him, I had to see him. It wasn’t fair that he was treating me like this; it just didn’t feel right. In my distressed state, I failed to notice Mingi approach me as I chewed my nails, eyebrows furrowed. The sky was dark, rainclouds gathered around and were threatening a downpour anytime now. I jumped when I felt arms around me from behind, a chin landing on my shoulder.

“Hi, baby.” Mingi’s voice was husky in my ear, then his plush lips pressed a kiss against my cheek, and I had to tense my muscles to stop myself from flinching away. I gulped, but my throat felt dry. I tried to take a deep breath, but my lungs felt restricted, so as gently as I could, I pried his arms off me and turned around to face him. He was so…Mingi. He was smiling from ear to ear, his beautiful eyes crinkled and making my heart race despite the heartbreak I was currently experiencing. His mole under his eye drew my gaze to it, and it made me wish I could trace it like I had done so before. He knew how much I loved his crooked teeth too, and yet, despite the man standing in front of me being someone I dearly loved once, I failed to recognise him right now.

“Hi,” I greeted, voice tight and breathy. Mingi’s eyebrows furrowed for a second, and he tilted his head, “Did you have a hard day so far?”

He hummed, looking past me in thought before he reached out to intertwine our fingers. He leaned back against his car, and I gulped, feeling my heart race. If he would set himself right while we spoke now, I would forgive him and change myself and the way I’ve been reacting to him lately.

“Not really, but Professor Ahn gave me some exercises in plus to do for his next class.” Mingi rolled his eyes, “He says I’m behind compared to the others, which isn’t true. Wooyoung barely knows shit and he’s not treating him bad like me.”

“Wooyoung doesn’t skip his class as often as you do,” I mentioned, and Mingi pouted, his thumb rubbing my skin.

“Whatever, what about you?” Mingi changed the subject, and I hummed, hand tightening around my thermos.

“It was okay, I’m just tired from studying…” Mingi watched me curiously as I trailed off, preparing myself for my next words, “Sorry for dragging you down here from the…library.”

Mingi’s eyebrows furrowed for a second, but then he smiled, shrugging nonchalantly, “Don’t worry, my baby. It was about damn time I got out of that stuffy place. Man, I swear they never open any windows despite everyone being cooped up in there, it’s so annoying. I think I’m developing a headache from all the burnt brain I had to smell in there, freaking geeks.”

He laughed at his own words while my muscles tensed, my heart chillingly slowing down. Somehow, despite the ache in my chest, it’s like I knew to expect this. It hurt, a lot, but a huge part of me knew he wouldn’t tell me the truth. The fact that he was with Arin, laughing and touching each other all up and not in the library, studying.

“I’ve just come from the library, peculiar, I didn’t see you there.” My tone was cold, and I watched as Mingi blanched, his happy expression turning into a careful one. He gulped and chuckled, but it didn’t sound so casual anymore.

“The library’s big, we must’ve missed each other.” Then he tugged on our intertwined fingers, making me close the distance between us, “What a pity, I would’ve loved studying together with you.”

I didn’t have time to react as he leaned forward, eyes watching my face before they fluttered closed, Mingi’s lips pressing against mine gingerly. I felt sick to my stomach as he kissed me with the same mouth that spewed so many lies, but the dam holding itself together in my chest finally broke. I closed my eyes and kissed him back, hard and a little desperate as I realised there was no going back for us. There was no fixing this anymore. I have stopped trusting Mingi, and once my trust was broken, it could never be mended. I fought the tears that threatened to escape my eyes as Mingi hummed against my lips, his taste familiar and once comforting. I knew his body like the back of my hand, I knew what he liked and what he didn’t. I would miss him, that was certain, but I couldn’t let myself break my back for a person who was possibly cheating on me. I pulled away with a heavy heart, taking a deep breath before I opened my eyes. Mingi was already watching me, looking almost afraid as his grip tightened on my hand.

“What’s wrong, baby?” He whispered, low and reluctant as a bike wheezed past us, its engine loud. I gulped, my eyes finding his as I had decided that this was best for me.

“Let’s break up, Mingi.” I said just as quietly, afraid that if I spoke too loudly someone would hear us despite being alone in the parking lot filled with cars. Mingi didn’t react straight away, his eyebrows twitched before they slowly furrowed, his expression twisting into confusion.

“What?” His tone was harsh, raspy and almost aggressive, “What the fuck are you saying, Y/N?”

But I wouldn’t break, not in front of him, “I can’t do this anymore, Mingi. You’ve been lying to me for months and making me the villain, I feel crazy and like I’m overreacting all the time, when I’m not. You don’t tell me where you go anymore and what you do, or with whom you go. We both have our personal lives, and I’ve always respected that, but this is not okay—”

“You say we have personal lives and then flip out over me not sharing every little thing I do, Y/N?” Mingi snapped, releasing his grip on me and I was finally able to step back, “You’re being a fucking hypocrite right now. You are breaking up with me when I was willing to put up with your bullshit for so long? Seriously?”

I ignored the pang hearing those words made me feel, and scoffed, “Fuck off, Mingi, you weren’t even studying in the library! You were with Arin, fucking flirting and touching each other all up in the fucking main lobby of the university where anyone could see you two! I saw you, Mingi! So what the fuck are you even saying here?!”

At my outburst, Mingi froze. His mouth opened, but he didn’t say anything as I scoffed, shaking my head at him. He gulped, looking to the side before he faced me again, but he still didn’t say anything.

“Tell me right now, did you cheat on me?”

“What?! No!” His eyes widened, looking stunned by my accusatory question, “I would never! What the fuck do you take me for? Do you seriously trust me this little? I thought we—love each other.”

“Love isn’t enough to keep a relationship going when trust is absent, Mingi.” I snapped, feeling my hands tremble all over again, “If you wouldn’t have lied so much, denying the fact that you were letting other girls be all over you and downplaying my feelings of worry, we wouldn’t be here, Mingi. It’s over, I don’t…I don’t want to be in a relationship with you anymore.”

“Y/N—”

“No, nothing you say will change my mind.”

Mingi watched with an open mouth as I turned on my feet, stomping away and leaving him standing next to his car as I felt tears in my eyes. My vision was blurry as I headed blindly in the direction of my own car, hands shaking so bad that I dropped the car keys. I crouched down to pick it up, but suddenly all the emotions I’ve been trying to reel in came pouring out like the rain that started pitter-pattering over our heads. I turned into myself as I cried, trying to keep my sobs quiet since the parking lot offered no privacy. Hearing the engine of his BMW e36 only made me sob harder, the screeching of tires making me flinch as Mingi peeled out from the parking lot. He wasn’t even done with his classes for the day yet.

The past week had been rough. I was under the weather most of the time, but my friends were understanding and didn’t push for answers until I was ready to talk to them about the recent changes. It was tough seeing Mingi knowing nothing was tying us to each other anymore. Meanwhile, I felt free like never before with a clear mind, my heart felt heavy as questions tugged at my mind whenever I allowed myself to dwell on the breakup and the reason behind it. It wasn’t easy letting go of someone who’d been a constant in my life for the past three years, but I was sure if I took one day at a time, I could allow the past to be just that…the past. And having a good support system meant the world in these challenging times. Yeri was nothing but a sweetheart, checking in with me often and coming up with activities that not only brought me out of my comfort zone, but created new memories that I couldn’t associate with Mingi. Due to my yearning to spend time with people instead of self-isolating, Yeri managed to bring together our old friend group from high school. It was jarring to see everyone in one place again, but it also felt amazing to catch up with the girls. They were more than eager to bring the team back together, and thus, that’s how I found myself out on a lovely Friday evening.

The pub we chose for our nightly endeavours was a different one we’d usually go to, just to make sure there were zero to almost none chances of us running into Mingi and his friends. From what I’ve been hearing from Yeri, Mingi wasn’t taking the breakup very well. He looked like he hadn’t slept for days, with dark circles under his eyes, and his appearance was mostly dishevelled, like he had little regard for his appearance. Something tugged at my heart when I caught a glimpse of him yesterday in the parking lot, shoulders hunched over and face expressionless, but I quickly got out of there before he could spot me. He’d still try to contact me from time to time, but after we’d given our belongings back to each other, I made it clear that I didn’t want him in my life under any circumstances. There were too many shared memories, I could never just look at Mingi and remember him fondly without remembering all the heartache he made me endure.

I blinked at the roar of laughter coming from the table next to ours, glancing over to see about five guys throwing cards onto the round table. They’ve been playing some card game for a while now, rowdy and louder than the rest of the pub. I didn’t mind much, but it was a little distracting from our own conversation with the girls as they were currently busy giggling over Sana’s new crush. We had been discussing politics right before and had gotten too heated, so a subject change was necessary. It’s not that I wasn’t happy for Sana, but I didn’t feel like ogling a man right now, so I didn’t lean over the table to see her phone screen.

“Okay, but his muscles are huge!” Minjeong exclaimed, her eyes round as if she were looking at her most prized possession. Yeri and Seulgi giggled, taking Sana’s phone as they zoomed in on the picture. Joohyun just sighed next to me, glancing at me from the corner of her eye.

“They are no better than men ogling women’s tits, huh?” Her question made me burst out laughing, earning questioning glances from our friends. I shook them off and turned to look at Joohyun, my pint of beer empty.

“At least they aren’t making any lewd comments.” I might’ve jinxed that as Sana’s lips parted, a dreamy sigh leaving her mouth.

“Gosh, I wish I could suffocate between his man tits. Do you think he has a huge dick?” Joohyun looked done with Sana as Minjeong screeched, making the table of guys look over with questioning looks on their faces. Our table wasn’t exactly that quiet either, and I hoped they didn’t overhear my friends’ conversation; that would’ve been embarrassing.

“Obviously, he does!” Yeri shared a knowing look with Minjeong, “He’s like…huge everywhere.”

Sana squealed as she hid her red face behind her hands, and we laughed. Joohyun shook her head before unlocking her phone, and I scooted closer to her so that I could rest my head on her shoulder. I was slightly sleepy from the alcohol, but the night was young and I was actually enjoying myself. I didn’t have the time to mop around yet, and all of that was thanks to my friends. Nobody had mentioned Mingi, we hadn’t even been talking about boys until now. Joohyun’s Instagram feed was far more interesting than mine as she scrolled down the posts of celebrities as well as the posts of people she knew, and when she got bored with that, she decided to check out people’s stories. I yawned as I recognised a few faces in one of the stories, they were girls from our high school class.

“Have you kept in touch with them?” I asked Joohyun as she swiped to the next story.

“We speak sometimes, but we aren’t close.” She answered, her tone quiet and almost drowned out by the sounds in the pub. The table behind us cheered loudly again, and I flinched as I wasn’t expecting it. As Joohyun swiped to the next story, my body froze. The username was familiar, too familiar, and so were the people in the video. A girl, Arin, was running away from the person behind the camera, squealing as she held a basketball in her hands. The deep laughter was familiar, and it made me gulp around nothing as I sat up straight, muscles rigid as my hands curled into fists. Joohyun quickly swiped past the video just as the screen was flipped, Mingi’s face coming into view. She shut her phone off and turned to me with a guilty expression on her face.

“I’m so sorry—” I grabbed Joohyun’s hand before she could apologise even further, I didn’t mind. I really didn’t. None of my friends had any obligations to quit their friendship with Mingi, and Joohyun wasn’t even close with him. She only knew him through me and probably had even forgotten that she was following him.

“Don’t, it’s okay.” I said with a small smile as I grabbed my pint, “I mean it, Hyunnie, I don’t mind.”

Joohyun pouted as I stood up, pointing towards the bar, “I’ll get a refill, do you want something?”

She shook her head, still looking apologetic as I hummed, then slid out of the small booth-like space. The bar was just outside, all I had to do was step through the threshold and I’d reach it. The pub wasn’t too big, but it was rather cozy as it was filled with other university students, retro tunes playing through the stereos. The wallpaper was rather chapped, and posters of old bands tried to hide the brick that could be seen due to the tapestry falling off, but I didn’t mind that as it gave the place a certain vibe. The pub, after all, was inside an old house which was modified to fit a maximum of thirty people for busy Friday nights. The line to the bar wasn’t too long, and I passed the time by looking around, observing all the band posters, coming to the conclusion that I really liked this place and would love to come here again. I could only hope the girls shared my sentiment.

As I reached the bar, I placed my pint on the counter and waited for the person in front of me to pay for his drink before it was my turn. The bartender smiled as he noticed me, then wiped off the counter before he pointed at my pint.

“Want a refill of that?”

“Yup, thank you,” I said with a smile, leaning against the counter as the man took my pint, turning around to place it under the keg. Tapping my foot to the rhythm of a Britney Spears song, I read the menu on the wall to see if they had any shots that I could enjoy tonight, however, I was suddenly roughly jostled to the side. I gasped as my hands slipped from the counter, and I would’ve lost my footing if it wasn’t for the arms that were suddenly wrapped around my torso, yanking me back up right. My heart was racing as I turned my head with wide eyes, coming face to face with a…very cute guy. I gulped, speechless for a second as I was still too stunned to speak, now also a bit bamboozled by our closeness and his round cheeks, which looked soft to the touch.

“Holy shit! I’m so sorry!” His tone was light, melodic even, as he exclaimed in horror, his cheeks flushing a dark red, “My friends pushed me, I didn’t mean to knock into you like that. Are you alright?”

I gulped, feeling my own cheeks heat up when the guy’s hands slightly tightened around my waist. I wondered if he hadn’t realised he was still holding onto me, and I opted to ignore the weird uneven thump-thump of my heart, “It’s alright, don’t worry. You caught me, so I’m fine.”

I chuckled a little shyly, averting my eyes as the guy’s round and soft ones bore into my face. He was far from intimidating-looking, yet I felt small in his presence, which rarely happened. He wasn’t too tall, barely half a head taller than me, yet his embrace felt comfortable and warm. Almost as if he had just now realised that he was still holding onto me, he released me as if he had been zapped with a teaser.

“Fuck, I’m sorry about that, too!” He looked on the verge of tears, embarrassment very visible across his features. I couldn’t help but chuckle as I turned my head to hide it, bringing up my hand in front of my mouth.

“It’s okay, thank you for not letting me fall despite being the cause of my almost concussion.” The guy groaned as I looked back at him with a cheeky smile, distracted as my pint of beer was placed on the counter. The bartender looked at me expectantly, but before I could pay for my beer, the cute guy reached out and placed his hand over mine, trapping my hand against the cold counter.

“No, no, let me pay for it.” He said with a sheepish smile, “It’s the least I can do!”

Without mulling over the thought for too long, and since it’s been long since a man bought me a drink, I nodded, “Sure, okay. Are you not getting anything to drink, though?”

He grinned then looked at the bartender, pointing with his free hand at my pint of beer, “I’ll get one of those, too.”

The bartender hummed as he went to fetch a clean pint, then turned his back to us. The cute guy and I looked at each other at the same time, and I allowed my eyes to take in his features. He had sharp and high cheekbones, round, pretty eyes and cheeks that looked pinchable. His lips were curved and almost pouty, a pretty cherry colour, and a nose that complemented his features prettily. His hair was dark and parted in the middle, brushed out of his face and styled in a way that showed off his good looks. There was a light eyeshadow added to his eyes, which only enhanced their roundness, and I realised I was staring as he slowly averted his eyes. Then, he jumped and took a step back, the warmth from my hand disappearing.

“I keep touching you without your consent, I’m really sorry.” He said while rubbing his nape, still not quite looking at me, just in my direction, “I promise I’m not a creep, even though saying that makes me sound like a creep.”

I chuckled as the bartender gave the cute guy his drink too, and he paid with his phone as I decided to wait for him. I didn’t know if he expected anything from me now that he’s bought me a drink, but he didn’t look like that type of person. And at the same time, his energy felt comforting and calm. He glanced at me and looked a little surprised that I was still there, waiting for him. He hid his smile behind his pint of beer as he motioned for me to walk in front of him, and I returned his smile, taking off and leading the way.

“I’m Jongho, by the way.” He said as we walked around the people waiting at the bar, keeping close to one another since the crowd had significantly grown since we had made it to the bar.

“I’m Y/N.” I said with a smile and shook his hand when he extended it, stepping back inside the main room where our tables were, “The girls and I are having a night out, this is the first time we’ve come to this pub. It feels rather cosy and isn’t overflowing with jerks.”

I had no idea why I was running my mouth to a complete stranger; maybe the alcohol had something to do with it, but Jongho didn’t seem bothered by this fact. In fact, he looked almost excited that I didn’t let the conversation die.

“I’m also out with my friends,” Jongho said, sounding just as ecstatic as he looked. It made him really cute and I bit my bottom lip to try and hide the smile that threatened to grow on my lips, “This pub is our go-to place exactly because it’s hidden and doesn’t attract the frat bros.”

I chuckled but felt myself sour at the thought. It’s not that Mingi and his friends were frat bros per se, but at times, they certainly acted as if they were. Before I could allow my mood to worsen as the image of Arin in Mingi’s Instagram Story flashed behind my eyes, I shook my head and focused back on Jongho.

“I’ve been to one too many frat bro-like spots, so this is refreshing, and—” I blushed a bit when I noticed Jongho listening to me closely, paying attention to my every word, “Thank you for buying me a drink, you really didn’t have to.”

“Oh, it’s the least I could do after I tumbled into you so harshly.” He said as he looked to the ground, shifting on his feet. I chuckled, but then narrowed my eyes at him playfully.

“I thought your friends pushed you?” I raised an eyebrow just as Jongho raised his head, eyes quickly widening.

“I—well, I—damn,” He groaned, his cheeks flushed again as he almost pouted, “Okay, I actually tripped on the carpet and went barrelling into you.”

I didn’t mean to laugh so loudly, but somehow that was endearing. Jongho’s eyes widened even more before he was giggling, watching me with softness in his eyes. I felt my heart rate pick up just slightly, my skin warming as I remembered the feeling of being in his arms. It wasn’t even bad, no, it was far from being uncomfortable or unwelcome. I gulped; a bit taken aback by my own thoughts as I cleared my throat.

“Well, thank you for being my hero even if you were the cause of my near death.” Jongho huffed, placing a hand on his hip and looking like a father who was about to scold their child. It looked funny as he held the pint of beer in his other hand.

“Now, that’s a bit too dramatic, don’t you think, Miss Y/N?” He raised an eyebrow, and I chuckled, looking off to the side. Talking to Jongho wasn’t too bad, I appreciated his humour and ability to match my energy.

“As long as you don’t hate me for it…” I didn’t mean to say that, but it slipped. I grimaced as I thought I had ruined the mood, reminded of the tantrums Mingi would throw anytime he thought I was too dramatic for his liking. But, instead of giving me a weird look, Jongho leaned in just slightly, a mischievous look dancing in his round eyes.

“I could never hate a pretty girl like you. Besides, if I’m free of charge for almost giving you a concussion, I think we’re even.” He winked and I snorted, looking down at my pint of beer as Jongho grinned to himself, standing up straight again. I didn’t know what to say to that, feeling slightly weird that a man who wasn’t Mingi had called me pretty, but at the same time, it had felt nice. Not knowing how to respond to his flirting—since it felt too soon to be mingling with other guys—I was just about to say goodbye to Jongho, but as I turned to look at my table, I was surprised to see unfamiliar faces sitting scattered around. The girls were laughing, cards placed in front of them now too. Jongho seemed to turn in the direction I had just looked in, and made a surprised sound in the back of his throat. I turned to look at him with raised eyebrows, curious as to why he had reacted like that.

“Uh, those are my friends.” He said as he pointed at the unfamiliar faces sitting at my table. My eyes widened as I glanced back at the table before looking back at Jongho.

“Really?” I asked, surprised, “Because those are my friends.”

I pointed at the girls as Jongho and I shared a glance, then burst out into giggles. That seemed to finally catch the attention of our conjoined friend groups, and Yeri’s eyes lit up when she saw me. She was subtle about it as she did a quick sweep over Jongho, but she said nothing as she threw her hand up in the air and waved at us.

“Y/N, you’re back!” She said loudly, grinning from ear to ear, “Guess what? The loud guys decided to join us—”

“You asked them if they’d like to sit with us.” Seulgi corrected, her eyes narrowed at Yeri. I chuckled, amused and not surprised by this at all.

“Yeah, after Hongjoong asked if we’d make a bet with him,” Yeri said as she stuck her tongue out, making Joohyun roll her eyes.

“And you stupidly said yes, he could’ve made you do something stupid.” Joohyun groaned as who I assumed was Hongjoong widened his eyes.

“I’m not like that!” The guy exclaimed as Jongho laughed, nodding to himself.

“He really isn’t,” Jongho said, and it seemed like the other girls finally realised that he was standing with me, “He’s a nerd who won’t shut up about his hyperfixations.”

A guy who had small and sharp eyes snickered, slapping the back of another guy who slightly resembled Jongho, “I thought that was Yunho, not Hongjoong.”

“Eh, they are different sides of the same coin.” Another guy said with a shrug as the guy who was called Yunho pouted, elbowing the sharp-eyed in the ribs. Jongho sighed next to me, then looked at me just as I glanced at him.

“My friends are embarrassing.”

“You know we can hear you, right?” The same sharp-eyed man deadpanned, and Jongho just shrugged. To my surprise, the next person who spoke up was Sana.

“Is he the guy you said was getting himself a drink at the bar?” Her face read mischief, and I gulped, subtly shaking my head at her. I hoped she wouldn’t say anything embarrassing or crazy. Hongjoong nodded, beckoning Jongho over, “Would you look at that? It looks like he and Y/N already know each other!”

“Right,” I quickly said as I sat down in my previous seat, surprised when I realised Joohyun actually sat close to the man with sharp and small eyes. She felt my questioning gaze because she shrugged, pointing at the cards in her hands.

“We’re playing a team game.”

“So, you and the new guy are now a pair!” Sana quickly said, elbowing another guy whose name I didn’t know to hand us cards. Jongho and I looked at each other as he shrugged, then he sat down next to me with a small smile on his lips.

“Well, howdy partner?” He clinked his pint of beer against mine, and I laughed, taking a large gulp of my beer so that Jongho wasn’t the only one doing so. I ignored the looks my girlfriends gave me as Jongho and I huddled close together to start strategizing about our winning plan. It felt nice being in his presence, and he was a funny person that I felt like I’d get along with really well despite not having known him for long.

Thoughts of Mingi and Arin were the least of my worries as the night progressed, my tummy aching from how much I’d laughed in Jongho and his friends' presence, a pleasant buzz from the alcohol warming my body like none other. I was grateful I had decided to go out tonight.

I had overslept this morning and completely missed an important class. I groaned as I rubbed my eyes, dry and heavy from lack of sleep. I sighed as I reached over for my phone, hand knocking into the small lamp on my bedside table, almost knocking it over. Since my phone was on do not disturb, I had missed Yeri’s desperate messages asking whether I was deliberately skipping first class or if it was the result of oversleeping. Well, I chuckled as I typed back that it was the result of not going to sleep at a reasonable time. I knew it would bite me in the ass in the morning, but I had decided to brave through another chapter of the manhwa I was reading, only for that chapter to turn into another one, then another one, and another one, and—yeah. Getting ready once I sluggishly dragged myself out of bed was easy, as I had to be on time for my next lecture, where I had to present the term paper I had finished a few days ago.

Over the weekend, after having met the group of friends at the pub, I felt like I could breathe again. It’s like the dark cloud hovering over my head had dissipated, not as menacing as it used to be. That didn’t mean, however, that Mingi was completely forgotten. I couldn’t simply forget him in the span of a few hours or days, hell, possibly even months. He was too deeply etched into my being, a part of my soul which I was now trying to slowly remove. Saturday had been fine, almost fun, but yesterday had been a nightmare. My heart was heavy, and I was on the verge of bursting into tears anytime. I couldn’t even let my cat cuddle me because it reminded me of the times Mingi and I would lie in bed and beckon her over, giggling as she nestled in between our bodies. We’d often joke around and say that’s what our future would look like once we had kids, because yes, at some point in time, I had sincerely thought Mingi and I would never part ways. That he was the one for me, my partner in crime and life, forever my soulmate. But I was wrong, and Mingi wasn’t with me anymore, and he’d never be no matter how hard he tried begging his way back.

As I had brushed my teeth, my phone buzzed, and thinking it was Yeri, I opened the message without looking first. I froze for a second as I looked at the screen, somehow not surprised to see that Mingi was trying to reach out again. I had asked him to leave me alone before, I had even threatened to block his number, but it seemed like he didn’t care. I sighed as my eyes ran over the text messages, toothbrush hanging from my mouth.

Good morning, I’m sorry to text you again…

I met up with Yeri in the parking lot

We spoke

She told me you went out on Friday

How was it? Did you enjoy yourself?

Did you…meet someone?

I miss you, baby

Can we speak? Will you please answer me? I have something to tell you.

It’s important, I promise!

I know you’re reading my messages, baby, it’s saying ‘read’

I feel like…I upset you

Did you see my story on Friday night? It was nothing, I swear

I was in the park when Arin ran into me, and we just…hung out afterwards

Baby, can you please stop ignoring me?

Y/N?

I fucking hate this, please.

I sighed, putting my phone to the side as I spat the menthol paste into the sink, turning on the faucet again. My eyebrows were furrowed as I looked at myself in the mirror, jaw clenched tight. I was irritated by Mingi’s insistence, at this point, I just wanted him to understand that we weren’t getting back together. What more did he need? Did he think I wasn’t hurting just because I broke up with him? I scoffed and splashed my face with cold water, the cleanser softening my skin once I was done washing up. My phone buzzed again, and I groaned loudly, mentally preparing myself to shut Mingi down for once and for all, but I paused. A friend request was the first notification that showed up, before my phone buzzed in my hand again, and a message request came through. My eyebrows furrowed as I read the familiar username, clicking onto the Instagram notifications with mild curiosity. Choi_jongho had sent me a friend request along with a text message that caught me off guard. I accepted his request without much thought as I left the bathroom, then headed for my wardrobe as I read his texts.

Hi. Good morning, actually! Uh…I hope this isn’t weird, or anything…I asked Yeri what your username was, that’s how I know, I promise I didn’t creepily stalk you or something!

Now that makes it sound terrifying, doesn’t it? I’m not a stalker, I swear to God!

So, I think I’m done embarrassing myself. I just wanted to ask if you got home safely on Friday? Was the cab driver creepy? I can beat him up next time or something (I promise I’m a gentle soul!)

I’m starting to realise that since we aren’t yet friends and I’m blowing up your phone, this is really fucking weird and annoying…hope you don’t hate me yet!:D

I chuckled as I reread Jongho’s texts, my grin wide as I leaned against my closet door. I didn’t think his messages were weird or annoying; on the contrary, he was just as funny and endearing as in real life. After Jongho and I had partnered up for the card game, we quickly hit it off. While strategizing, we also figured out that we both loved listening to sappy ballads when we were feeling under the weather. Jongho loved cats, and he wanted to adopt his friendly neighbourhood cat, which would sneak inside his flat anytime it could, and he was more than elated to hear that I had a cat. Then, Jongho confessed that he wanted to become a singer before he found a new passion in life, so he was now just this cute guy walking around with a jaw-droppingly good voice—and I knew that because he had shown me videos of his singing at around our third pint of beer. I also found out that he wasn’t a light-weight, but the tipsier he got, the redder his cheeks became, hiccupping from time to time as he smiled a gummy smile and laughed melodically and loudly. One thing we both geeked out about—with Yunho joining our conversation when he overheard our excited rants—was the manhwas we read and were planning on reading.

Good morning, Jongho. Don’t worry, I don’t yet think you’re a creep or a stalker…that might change soon, depending on what you’ll be saying with a sober mind now. I got home just fine on Friday, thank you for asking! As for the driver, he was a sweet old man who offered to play whatever songs we wanted on the ride back. (And a gentle soul who knows how to fight? Sign me tf up!)

And that wasn’t it all. Morning had been a long time ago, and yet, Jongho and I were still talking. Although our replies came a bit slower as I was at university and he was at his part-time job, it didn’t feel awkward, and there wasn’t even one second which felt strained or weird. Speaking to Jongho came naturally for some reason, he was a very warm and playful person who understood my humour and was more than eager to return the snarky comments. I was enjoying myself, it helped me disconnect from the fact that my heart froze before it started racing, my body chilling at the sight of Mingi’s car in the parking lot. I tried to ignore the fact that I walked around campus like I was walking on eggshells, looking over my shoulder every few minutes to make sure I wouldn’t run into Mingi. It didn’t help that we also had classes in the same building, so I resorted to staying on my floor rather than wandering around and risking the chance of running into Mingi. I had spotted Wooyoung and Seokmin this morning; they both smiled at me as they waved, and I was glad that neither tried to approach me. I didn’t want to speak with them, I knew they’d go running to Mingi.

Lunch break was over, but Yeri and I didn’t have another class for the next two hours, so we decided to lounge around on campus, find a good spot where we could pass the time. I had just gone to the bathroom to wash up, my hands still wet as I left the restroom, drying my hands on my jeans. My phone buzzed in my back pocket, and I smiled, about to reach for it, but a sudden presence in front of me made me pause. I froze as I was face to face with Mingi, whose eyebrows were furrowed. His hair was cut, gone were the long strands framing his face, now the sides were nothing but a buzzed cut as the shorter strands fell over it. I remained silent as Mingi stared at me, opening his mouth, but he said nothing. My phone buzzed again, and I flinched, my muscles tensing as Mingi sighed, reaching forward. I hid my hand behind my back when he tried hooking his pinkie with mine, making his face contort into confusion.

“Hi.” He finally said, tilting his head as I didn’t look him in the eyes, but rather past him. I didn’t want to have this conversation. Why was he trying to make this hard for both of us?

“How are you?” He asked, and I sighed, jaw clenching as I finally looked at him.

“I’m fine, what do you want?” I asked, voice impassive and snappy. Mingi’s shoulders slouched forward, and he looked helpless for a second.

“Can’t I talk to you anymore?” He asked with a whine, and I sighed, taking a second to gather myself.

“No, Mingi, you can’t.” I didn’t want to raise my voice as people passed down the hallway, “We’re done, when will you understand that? I don’t want anything to do with you anymore, I told you already. Can you please respect my wish and just let go?”

“You want me to just let go of three years of our relationship?” He snapped, looking angry all of a sudden as he stepped closer, I didn’t move back, “Are you fucking kidding me, now? I thought you’d get over it. What do you mean you’re breaking up with me? Did you ask me beforehand? Did we discuss it? I don’t want this, I—”

“Did you or did you not cheat on me?” Mingi froze, eyes widening. He grabbed my arm and pulled me into his body, making chills run all over my skin.

“I told you I didn’t, will you finally drop it?!” He hissed, shaking his head as if he were disappointed in me.

“No, I will not let it go. If you didn’t cheat on me, why were you speaking to other girls behind my back?” I raised my eyebrows, tired of having this conversation again. It’s like Mingi didn’t want to understand what the real issue between us was.

“I told you already—”

“That you did speak to other girls, so what the fuck do you want?” I huffed, prying his fingers off my body, “If you text me one more time, Mingi, I will block your number too.”

“Like you blocked me on Instagram, yeah.”

“Glad you noticed, it was about damn time.” I snapped before walking around Mingi, hearing him scoff loudly before the men’s restroom door was slammed shut loudly. My heart raced as a bitter taste entered my mouth, and I stopped walking, taking a deep breath as I felt my phone buzz again. I felt horrible. I didn’t want to fight with Mingi so much, I didn’t even want to see him anymore. He wasn’t the only one who was struggling with this breakup, I also missed him, I also wanted to talk to him and give him one last chance to fix things. But it wouldn’t work, I just couldn’t overlook all his lies anymore. There were too many questions whirling in my head, and even just the thought of another woman in his vicinity infuriated me. It wasn’t healthy anymore, and Mingi had to see that too. My phone buzzed again, and I closed my eyes before I fetched it, chewing on my bottom lip. I wasn’t surprised to see the picture of the cat Jongho was taking care of, a small black kitty. It looked adorable looking up at the camera curiously, and I chuckled, tears in my eyes. I sniffed and tried to hold in the tears, refusing to cry at university while I was looking at a cute kitten picture just after my ex-boyfriend made me feel like shit.

Look at her, she’s a gem

Her eyes are so cute, they remind me of yours, actually…not that I’m comparing you to a cat!

I just got home, finally, what’s up with you?

I took off again out of fear of Mingi coming out of the restroom and finding me in the hallway as I typed back a quick answer to Jongho that I was waiting for my next class to start, lounging around with Yeri. He sent me a cookie recipe as an answer, saying he had made a bet with San and that both of them had to bake twice a week something they didn’t like.

You don’t like cookies?! Jongho, are you a monster?!

I went down the stairs as I felt my nerves calm a little, less tense now that I was speaking to Jongho again. It’s not like Mingi wasn’t lingering in the back of my mind, his words ringing in my ears, but it was easier to focus on Jongho’s texts right now. They served as a good distraction.

Even if I’m a monster, I am not the Cookie Monster!

I chuckled under my breath as I was heading towards Yeri, about to tease him, when Jongho’s next message came through quickly.

Hey, ignore me if this is too sudden. But would you like to grab some coffee tomorrow? In the morning, if that’s okay with you. I don’t have work tomorrow and my classes are in the afternoon.

I froze, my heart thumping weirdly. Tuesday’s used to be Mingi and I’s go-to days to have breakfast before our classes. It somehow felt wrong to just…replace it by grabbing a cup of coffee with Jongho. But then again, Mingi and I were done, I wasn’t doing anything bad by meeting up with Jongho. He hadn’t specified that it was a date, which I would be highly uncomfortable with at the moment, and despite knowing Jongho for a short period of time, it truly felt like he just wanted to hang out before our classes. I gulped, ignoring the whispers telling me that I was betraying Mingi by agreeing, but in the end, I pressed send before I could overthink it.

Sure, but I have to get to uni by 11 am!

The evening was warm as Jongho’s shiny black Jeep rolled down the residential street, traces of a smile still lingering on his lips. Today has been amazing. We’d gone to a river and had a small picnic with homemade sandwiches and lemonade, which was way too sour. Jongho cringed even just at the mention of it, and I giggled as I smeared more blueberry jam on top of my cub sandwich. The weather was lovely this time of the year, and with exam season over, I was finally at ease again. The thought of not having to go to classes as well as face people I didn’t want to made the tight knot in my stomach uncoil, my days now filled with lazing around the house unless Yeri dragged me out for whatever reason. The library Jongho worked at was looking for more employees, so after Jongho’s recommendation and encouragement, I decided to apply for the job. I had made plans of going overseas before the summer break would be over, so a little pocket money wouldn’t hurt my wallet.

I hummed along to the song playing on the radio, Jongho’s quiet singing just as marvellous as when he was belting out high notes at the karaoke bar. The basket was in the backseat together with my purse, so my hands were free as I fiddled with my fingers, gazing out the window. The sun was setting, casting orange hues over the sky, and I sighed as I allowed my tired muscles to melt into the comfortable seat of Jongho’s car. The Jeep was spacious and expensive. Jongho took great care of his car and prided himself on how clean it always was. I liked how the engine wasn’t too loud nor rambunctious, or how Jongho’s aim wasn’t to show off but to have a comfortable and long-lasting ride. Sure, the car parts were expensive now, but as the years passed, the model would become less and less worth as much as initially. Not that Jongho cared about that, he was financially secure due to his well-off family. I smiled when I felt Jongho’s warm palm land over mine, and I flipped my hand so that we could intertwine our fingers.

The process of forgetting Mingi and leaving him in the past was slow and sometimes excruciating. Not much had passed since I put an end to our relationship; it would soon be somewhere close to two months. Not that I was counting. He’d still show up at times, bringing flowers to my house and asking whether I’d like to take a walk with him for ‘old times' sake’. I never wanted to, though, and I never accepted the flowers. Anytime I saw a blue car, my heart would lurch in my chest and make me wipe my head around to look for the model, for the brand, just to make sure it wasn’t Mingi. I can’t deny that my heart is still numb in his absence, that I don’t mull over all the what ifs in the safety of my bedroom, late at night when I should be asleep. Sometimes, all of it becomes a big mess in my head, in my heart, making me nauseous as I’d have to call or text Yeri or one of the girls to distract myself and stop myself from giving in and unblocking Mingi. He was doing well from the glimpses I’ve caught of him, but due to Yeri still hanging out with the rest of the boys, Wooyoung would often tell her that Mingi had turned to unsafe solutions to take his mind off me. I knew he was sleeping around now; it was a hard-to-miss fact when the campus wasn’t huge enough to drown out the rumours and the whispers.

But amid the storm in my head and heart, the rays of a warm sun were slowly breaking through the rainclouds. Jongho was by my side; he was here for me more than any of my friends had been, and I am grateful to him. If Jongho weren’t here, I probably would’ve handled the whole ordeal a lot worse and given in to the urge to just forgive Mingi, just one more time for the sake of memories and those three years we’ve spent together. Jongho was a great guy, he truly was everything I didn’t know I needed. He was attentive and careful, he liked to listen to my stories and he loved to entertain any far-fetched idea I might get, and he just…understood. He never pried and he never pushed or prodded, he allowed me to process things at my own pace, making sure he was there if things got too dark and too hard to handle on my own. He was a sweet soul, and he was warm. Sometimes I wondered if being engulfed in his embrace is what it would feel like hugging a domesticated bear. Jongho loved to live, and he had a special talent of wrapping you up in his happiness, in his joy, making you forget you even knew what sadness felt like.

We have never put a name to our relationship, because I wasn’t ready to date yet. I still saw Mingi in certain habits of other people, I still heard his voice in my head, I still couldn’t wipe his smile out of my mind, I still couldn’t forget the way his hands felt on my body, his cologne familiar and comforting, his eyes warm and making you feel like you were the only person in the room when he looked at you. I missed his proximity and I missed how comfortable and easy everything had been with him, and yet…when I looked at Jongho, I couldn’t dismiss the way my heart would start racing, the flush of my cheeks or the inexplicable desire to let him hold me until he became sick of me. We had started dating, that much we had established, but we weren’t together yet. I had no idea when it would happen, and I didn’t want to think about it for now. Seeing his car parked in my driveway still made me gulp harshly, Mingi’s blue BMW so vivid in my mind that I’d flinch away from the window and leave the house with disdain. And it wasn’t even Jongho’s fault that I was feeling this way.

“We’re here.” Jongho’s quiet voice snapped me out of my thoughts, and I hummed, squeezing his hand as my heart felt suddenly heavy. Mingi and I had never done a picnic, I had just realised. I chuckled under my breath, feeling a little bittersweet, because today had been one of the happiest days of my life. Jongho and I hadn’t even done anything big, just sat on a blanket while we ate whatever we had packed from home, then lay down on said blanket and cloud gazed until a small spider crawled on Jongho, making him panic before I took it off him, “Are you okay? You’ve gotten really quiet, love.”

My heart fluttered at the endearing petname and I hummed, facing Jongho as I nodded, “I’m fine, just lost in thought, sorry.”

“Don’t apologise.” He chuckled, turning his body to face me as he pushed the stray strands of my hair that had fallen out of my ponytail behind my ear, “Are you tired? You look tired.”

I chuckled as I nodded, stifling a sudden yawn, “Yes, I’m quite sleepy. Being out the whole day drained me.”

“Right, me too.” Jongho giggled, “I feel like a child again, the last time I was out and about for this long was…many years ago.”

“Now, don’t dramatize, Jongho.” I teased with a laugh, and Jongho huffed, playfully rolling his eyes, “Thank you for the picnic today, I had so much fun.”

Jongho grinned, his smile cute and endearing, and I had to stop myself from pinching his pink cheeks. He was so easily lovable, sometimes I had no idea why my heart wasn’t filled with love for him.

“I’m glad! Because I also had a lot of fun—except for when that spider crawled on me, that was terrifying and disgusting.” Jongho shuddered as I snorted, narrowing my eyes at him.

“I never thought I’d see the day Choi Jongho is afraid of something.”

“Love, I told you, bugs are the only thing on this Earth that will scare me.” Jongho shuddered as he said this, and I squeezed his hand, leaning over and pressing a kiss against his cheek without thinking first. His skin was soft and warm, turning redder by the second. He froze, and I said nothing as I pulled slightly back, gulping nervously. I didn’t mean to suggest anything by kissing his cheek, but he was too cute not to do so. Silence stretched on as Jongho’s eyes searched my face, and I looked down, suddenly feeling extremely guilty. I wasn’t ready to devote my heart to Jongho yet, and here I was, leading him on and playing with his feelings. Was I better than Mingi? No, I was almost even more terrible compared to him.

“Y/N,” Jongho said quietly, and I felt him cup my cheek. He raised my head as he smiled at me softly, “It’s okay, stop thinking so much and so hard. You know you don’t have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with, right? If you need more time…to get over Mingi, I’m here. I’m willing to wait, I actually—I just really want to wait because I feel many things for you and I don’t want to lose you.”

That didn’t help as the guilt spread more through my chest, but I made sure he couldn’t read my expression just yet, “I appreciate that, Jongho, I really do. But are you willing to live in the shadow of the man I loved so much?”

“Yes,” Jongho’s answer was instant, “Of course, I am. Because I know it’ll be worth it in the end. We can be just friends, we don’t even have to go on any more dates. I’ll be content to just have you in my life, however way you want me.”

I huffed, sad and a little weak, but nodded my head, “Thank you. You already mean a lot to me, Jongho, I just need to…let go, for good this time.”

Jongho nodded, smiling gingerly as he caressed my cheek, and I returned the small smile. Knowing that I couldn’t live like this forever, that I shouldn’t let my heart break over a man that doesn’t deserve me anymore, I decided to give Jongho a real chance. I leaned closer, making sure my intentions were clear as his eyes widened slightly, but he closed the distance between us when I fluttered my eyes shut. It was a small peck on the lips, but it was enough to make my cheeks flush and my heart race wildly. That was all I needed as confirmation that I would be eventually over Mingi for good, that I was ready to leave the past behind. I pressed another swift kiss against Jongho’s lips before I pulled back, grinning at him as Jongho chuckled while shaking his head.

“Need help carrying that basket inside?”

“Now that you asked, yes.”

A letter to you, who will never see this:

Love can be innocent, fiery and passionate, gentle and constant, but love can also be painful and destructive, draining and so, so damaging. Loving you was all of these things. It had started as an innocent, unassuming crush, very childlike and unserious. But the more I saw you, the more I heard you, the more I listened to you, the more I spent time with you…it started turning into something more, into something I couldn’t define but desperately chased after. It was you whom I was chasing, your attention and your affection, it was you whom I wanted from the very beginning. It was mutual attraction, I know it was, but somewhere along the blurry lines of casual friendship and flirtatious, playful words, it turned into something malicious on your part. You wanted me, but you didn’t actually want me. You liked my attention, you liked how easy it was with me, you liked that you could see it on my face—in my eyes—that you had my affection. You wanted that, not who and what I was. You didn’t like my opinions, you didn’t like the fact that I stood up for myself, and you didn’t like the fact that I didn’t let you walk all over me. You wished for a mellow girl, a girl who would do anything for you, who would hand you the world, who would break her back to abide by all of your wishes.

I wasn’t that girl, and I’d never be that girl.

It started with a fleeting glance, with your voice always around me, with your friends surrounding me without me even realising it. It started with casual banter and the fact that I liked that you could mirror me: my behaviour, my words, my actions, my attitude. It felt like you understood me, that you saw me for who I was…but oh, was I wrong. This story actually started on a very cold Friday afternoon when we were both frozen and in desperate need to warm out numb limbs, our icy toes, and our refuge had been the cafeteria. We had known each other from those fleeting glances, from hearing about each other from others’ conversations, yet then, there in that cafeteria, we had sat at the same table. We talked like we knew each other since forever, we laughed, and we teased each other because that's how we were. Easy-going and playful, rarely meaning the things we said. But then…when you left…you did something that made my heart flutter. You hugged me, and I didn’t like to be touched. You stood up, paused, then turned around, pointed at me and said, “I will hug you”. I was confused, I didn’t know how to react for a second, but I rolled with it. No boy had said that before, and now, much time later, I realise that’s how you were. Physically affectionate and good at love bombing. So, we hugged, but if I knew you’d damage me the way you had, I would’ve never let you touch me. I would’ve never sat with you, and I would’ve never bothered engaging with you.

After that, everything is just…unimportant. Whatever happened between us is for us to know. You were mean and bad, you know you used me and I know it too, but we can’t reverse time. And even if we could, I wouldn’t want to reverse time because I was so enraptured with you back then that I’d let you do everything you had done to me all over again. I can still vividly remember the way you made me feel, the way you made my skin crawl if I wasn’t the object of your attention, the way you made me anticipate every moment I knew I’d be in your presence. Thinking back now is just silly, how lost I was, how desperate I was to finally love and be loved. It’s silly and perhaps even embarrassing, I recognise that, but if anything…you had taught me another lesson. A lesson that losing myself wasn’t worth it, not when the man of your desire wouldn’t give himself to you fully. And I had learned this lesson, don’t you worry, I’d never let a man destroy my mental health as much as you had done…so thank you for that, it was a valuable lesson.

There were good and bad moments, moments I sometimes still fondly recall despite all the suffering I endured due to you. I realise, sometimes, I was too in my head to realise I might’ve been making up things, and yet, you were always feeding into these delusions. So, if they were truly just in my head, how come you could see them and make them worse? Questions and questions that would remain unanswered, because if I’m being frank, I can’t even look at you anymore. I don’t want you, but I do resent you…And I think I will for a very long time. Or at least until I’m old enough to barely remember your name, memories of us lost somewhere deep in my subconscious.

As for how this story ends…I think we all already know. Our story has long ended, there’s no more us, no me and you in the same sentence. As for that girl whom you played while playing me as well, I hope she can trust you like I never would’ve. I hope, for her own good, she lives a blissfully unaware life by your side, loving you unconditionally for as long as you need her to. And despite feeling stupid and silly sometimes, if I hadn’t meant anything to you, you surely wouldn’t have completely wiped me from your life. You made sure there were no traces left of me, even though I removed myself, once I realised there was no use in hanging onto this anymore, and I hope you regret driving me away every single day. We would’ve worked if you had taken me more seriously, but at the end of the day…did I want us to work? You checked off everything I liked and wanted in a man, yet that wasn’t enough. I hate the idea of you ever reading this, because you do not deserve to know the full extent of my true feelings for you, but if you do stumble across his letter one day…hear this:

I don’t wish you the best. Don’t ever again come near me.

...No, his car isn't yours

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misaerabl · 16 days ago

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HAPPY ENDING - abby anderson

ex wife!abby x fem!reader CW: divorce, soft, emotionally charged smut scene,MULTIPLE SMUT SCENES, tender kissing, mutual undressing, gentle fingering, and implied climax with strong emotional context. (also sorry for the horrible cover lmfao, i can't for the life of me make it better, i swear i'll change this shit) SUMMARY: Two years after their divorce, Abby brings their son back home for the weekend. In the quiet of a shared kitchen and old memories, they talk, they touch, and they fall into something that feels like love again. Is this finally the happy ending that they always knew they deserved? A/N (MUST READ): I was debating whether to post this. I don't know if I'm just hormonal or it hits way too close to home but I legit cried (multiple times) while writing this. I wasn't really done with it yet but I couldn't bring myself to torture myself even more!

The last thing Abby packed was your son’s stuffed giraffe.

It sat on the edge of the crib like it always had, one ear chewed and stiff from months of being a favorite. Her hands hovered before grabbing it, slow, almost guilty. Like she knew this was the part that would wreck you.

You didn’t cry. You stood by the door, arms crossed and chest heavy, watching her zip up a duffel bag that shouldn’t have looked so out of place in the nursery, but did. The morning light painted the room in soft gold, but nothing about the moment was warm.

Your son, just barely two then, tugged on your sleeve, asking for a snack.

Abby met your eyes. She didn’t say anything. She never had to. You both knew what this meant. You both knew the ending was here.

Two years before that, you’d found the house.

It was snowing, the soft kind—quiet, almost romantic. You were walking back from the clinic, one hand in Abby’s and the other holding the test results. Positive. One embryo took.

You were pregnant.

You were laughing about something she said—something dumb and hopeful and laced with disbelief—and then you saw it. The house. White trim. Sloping roof. Just enough yard for a dog and a swing set. And somehow, as if by fate or miracle or whatever lesbians believe in when their IVF finally works, it was for sale.

You bought it two weeks later. The older couple selling it said they were moving to a quiet coastal town in Asia to retire. The woman said she hoped the house would hold joy. “It already does,” you’d told her, one hand on your belly, the other in Abby’s.

Everything was perfect. For a while.

Now, your son is three.

And Abby’s outside, strapping him out of the car seat like muscle memory. He babbles at her, one hand clutching the same worn giraffe. You watch from the window, arms curled around yourself, heart doing that irritating thing where it aches without warning. Like a reflex.

She carries the grocery bags in first, balancing the paper bag on one forearm while unlocking the door. She still remembers where you keep the spare key.

He bursts in a second later—small, giggling, snow stuck to his boots—and you kneel down to take off his coat. He throws his arms around you in the way only toddlers can, all weight and trust.

"Hi, baby," you murmur into his hair.

"Mommy!" he yells, like it’s the best word he knows.

Abby bought his favorite yogurt. The blueberry one with the dinosaur on the lid. She also got him socks with tiny planes, a new pack of crayons, and the exact brand of waffles he likes.

You notice the extra coffee creamer, the one you always used to grab. The spicy trail mix you like. A new copy of that book you never got around to finishing.

"You didn’t have to," you say, standing in the doorway of the kitchen while she organizes things like she never left.

"I know," she says, not looking up. “Just thought I’d save you the trip.”

You nod, chewing your bottom lip. You’re not sure whether to thank her or cry.

You tuck your son in after a bath. Abby sits on the floor beside the bed, holding his hand until he’s out cold. It's so natural, it stings.

When he’s asleep, she follows you downstairs. The silence stretches. You take the leftovers from the fridge—her favorites, coincidentally—and you heat them in the microwave.

She sits at the kitchen table. You pour her water.

"Have you eaten?" you ask.

"A bit earlier," she lies, because she always forgets to eat on long shifts and you know it.

You slide the plate in front of her anyway.

She eats. You sit across from her, your fingertips brushing the rim of your glass just to have something to do.

“You still hang the dish towels the wrong way,” she says, gentle, like it’s an old joke.

You shrug. "Habit."

There’s a pause.

“I miss this,” she says softly. “Not just the eating. All of it.”

Your heart clenches. You push the feeling down.

“I do too.”

You both talk for a while—casual things at first. How work’s been. How your son’s been asking about Christmas already. How the neighborhood got a new streetlight installed and your son insists it’s “his” star.

And then it slips in.

Like smoke under a door.

Abby wipes her hands on a napkin. Her voice is so quiet, you almost miss it.

“Do you ever think we gave up too early?”

The question lands like a weight across your chest.

You blink.

The sound of the fridge hums in the background. Your fork scrapes your plate though you’re no longer hungry.

You don't know what to say.

Because yes. God, yes. And also no. Not at all.

You finally speak. “I think we held on too long.”

She swallows. You see the hurt in her eyes, even if she tries to hide it behind a half-smile.

“I just…” she starts, then stops. “You know I never stopped loving you, right?”

“I know.”

There’s a pause.

“You still do?”

You look at her. Really look at her.

Hair tied back lazily. Dark circles under her eyes. That same sweatshirt from college. Her voice like a familiar lullaby you’d forgotten.

And yes.

You do.

But you also remember the shouting. The slammed doors. The tears in the next room while your son slept. The feeling of drowning in a life that was supposed to be perfect.

You nod. “Yeah. I do.”

She exhales. Like she needed to hear it, even if it changes nothing.

“Then why couldn’t we fix it?” she whispers.

You don’t have an answer.

The truth sits somewhere behind your ribs, tangled in all the things you never said.

“I think we forgot how to talk to each other,” you say eventually. “We started fighting to win. Not to understand.”

Abby nods slowly. She looks at her hands in her lap like they’re guilty. “I hated how we were becoming strangers.”

You take a breath. “But we weren’t. That was the problem. You can’t be a stranger to someone who knows how you like your toast, who knows which songs make you cry and what brand of toothpaste you hate. We knew each other too well.”

She looks up at that, and for a second, you see it—the grief, the longing, the what-ifs.

“I miss being home with you,” she says softly. “Even when we were falling apart… part of me still hoped we’d figure it out.”

The silence that follows isn’t heavy. It’s warm. Sad. Soft.

You rise from your chair and cross the room without thinking. Abby stands too. You meet in the middle like muscle memory. Your hand reaches for hers. She lets you.

And then she kisses you.

It’s cautious at first—like a question. Her lips press to yours with all the hesitation of someone who remembers how you tasted and how you walked away. But you don’t pull back. You sink into it, let her kiss you like she used to, like nothing ever broke between you.

The kiss deepens. Your fingers slide into her hair, and she exhales into your mouth like she’s been holding her breath for two years. Her hand finds your waist, warm and grounding, and her thumb slips beneath the hem of your shirt, brushing against skin like she’s reacquainting herself with you inch by inch. She pulls you closer, the old familiarity settling between you so naturally that it almost hurts.

She breaks the kiss only to tug your shirt over your head, and you let her. Her hoodie comes off next, and you help her out of it like you’ve done a hundred times before. Your bodies fit the same as they always did, no hesitance, just instinct. You tug at the band of her sweatpants, her breath stuttering as she lets them fall. She kisses your jaw, your neck, her mouth moving with intention, slow and reverent, like she’s learning you again. Like she never forgot.

Clothes scatter quietly on the stairs as you make your way up. The hallway light is off, the moon doing the work instead. She pushes your bedroom door open without asking. It’s still half her room too, no matter what the lease says now. Nothing in it has changed much since she left. Same sheets, same low lamp by the nightstand, same quiet.

She kisses you again at the threshold, a little rougher now, her hands gripping your thighs as she walks you backwards toward the bed. You fall onto it, laughing softly into her mouth before she silences the sound with another kiss. She moves over you, the weight of her familiar in the best way. She touches you like she remembers exactly how. Her fingers trail from your ribs down to your hips, dipping below your waistband but never rushing. She watches your face, always needing to see, to know how you feel it.

She doesn’t speak much. She never did during moments like this. Just little exhales, quiet sighs of your name, the way she kisses your collarbone like it means something. And it does. It always did.

She slides your underwear down slowly, the pads of her fingers brushing your thighs as she goes, her mouth trailing behind. When she finally touches you, it’s careful. Gentle. She still remembers how to draw those soft, shaking noises from your lips. You arch into her hand and whisper her name, and it’s all it takes for her to lean up and kiss you again, deeper this time.

You reach for her too. Hands roaming the curve of her back, the stretch of her stomach, the lines you still remember tracing on early Sunday mornings when your son would sleep in. You pull her on top of you fully, wrap your legs around her waist, your mouths never parting for long. The friction is slow, delicious, and every movement draws out more need. It’s messy in the quiet way, the kind of mess you make when you’re trying not to cry. The kind where moans blend with breathless whispers of “I missed you” and “you still feel the same.”

You come like that—together, tangled in memory and sweat, her forehead pressed to yours, her voice in your ear, and the weight of everything you never fixed still lingering somewhere behind your ribs.

After, she doesn’t let go. She pulls you against her, chest to chest, your legs knotted together like neither of you wants to wake up alone.

You fall asleep in her arms.

And for the first time in a long time, it feels like home again.

You wake to the sound of small feet.

Your eyes crack open just in time to see the door swing open.

Your son stands in the doorway, rubbing his eyes, his stuffed giraffe in hand.

His gaze shifts from you to the other side of the bed—to Abby, still asleep under the blanket. His brows pinch together in the way they always do when he’s trying to understand something new.

“Mama?” he asks, voice soft and puzzled.

You sit up quickly, heart stuttering, Abby’s shirt slipping off your shoulder.

“Hi, baby,” you say gently, climbing out of bed and crossing to him. “Let’s go get breakfast, okay?”

He nods, still glancing back at the bed.

“Is Mommy staying?” he asks, tugging at your hand.

You don’t answer. You kiss the top of his head and guide him out of the room.

“I’ll make waffles,” you say instead, hoping he won’t ask again.

He doesn't. He hums something off-key, clutching his giraffe as you walk him to the kitchen.

Behind you, the bedroom door stays closed. Abby doesn’t come out right away.

And as you pour batter into the pan, your back to the hallway, you don’t know what this morning means. If it’s a beginning, or just another soft, temporary reminder of the past.

But for now, your son is laughing at bubbles in the batter, and you’re still wearing Abby’s shirt.

And Abby… Abby’s still upstairs.

Later that day, after Abby’s gone and your son is napping on the couch, your phone buzzes. It’s your sister. You pick up and barely get a hello out before she starts.

“So. You want to explain why your son told me, ‘Mama sleeped with Mommy and she had no socks on’?”

You groan and cover your eyes with your hand. “God.”

“I'm not judging,” she says, which is a lie. “He said, and I quote 'They were cuddling. Mama had no socks on.'”

You slide down onto the kitchen floor with a sigh, your back against the cabinets. “It was just... I don’t know. It just happened”

“Does she want to come back?”

“She didn’t ask.”

“But do you want her to?”

You don’t answer right away. There’s too much noise in your head—memories, pain, last night’s warmth. You press your palm against your chest like it might keep everything from spilling out.

“I don’t know,” you admit. “I don’t think I’m ready to know.”

Your sister is quiet for a moment. When she speaks again, her voice has softened. “Just be careful, okay? For your own sake. And his.”

You nod even though she can’t see it. “Yeah. I know.”

Abby comes by again the next day, just to drop off some clothes your son left at her place. You talk more this time, standing on the porch after your son runs inside with his new truck.

You don’t look at her at first. You keep your arms crossed and your eyes on the chipped paint of the railing.

“What happened that night,” she says, and you can hear how carefully she’s choosing her words, “it wasn’t just about missing you.”

You glance at her. Her hands are in her pockets. She’s not wearing her scrubs today—just jeans and that old gray hoodie she stole from you when you were still dating.

“I still love you,” she continues. “I never stopped.”

You swallow around the knot in your throat. “I know. I love you too.”

She looks relieved, but there’s sadness there too, a kind of restraint that hurts to see on her face.

“But,” you add, because it has to be said, “loving each other didn’t save us the first time. It’s not going to be enough on its own.”

“I’m not asking to move back in,” she says quickly. “I’m not asking for us to pretend nothing happened. I just… I want us to try. Carefully. Slowly. I don’t want to confuse him.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” you admit. “He’s too little to understand any of this. If we try and we fail again, I don’t want him carrying that weight.”

“I’d never leave him hanging,” she says. “You know I wouldn’t.”

“I know. That’s not what I meant.”

There’s a pause. She steps a little closer, not enough to touch you, just enough that you can feel the heat of her presence again.

“I just don’t want to do this wrong,” you whisper.

“Then let’s do it right,” she says. “Whatever that looks like.”

It’s not a solution. It’s not a promise.

But it’s something.

You nod. “Okay. We’ll try.”

Abby doesn’t reach for your hand, doesn’t lean in for a kiss. She just smiles. A small, hopeful, quietly broken thing.

“I’ll see you Saturday.”

She steps down from the porch, gets into her car, and drives away. You watch her until the taillights disappear at the end of the street.

When you go back inside, your son is lying on the rug with his trucks, humming the same off-key tune from that morning.

You sit beside him, and he scoots closer without looking up, like he just knows where you’re supposed to be.

You think about what trying means. What it might cost. What it might heal.

You think about Abby’s hand brushing yours under the dinner table, about the old room, about how easily everything came flooding back.

And for the first time in a long while, the thought of a happy ending doesn’t feel like a lie.

One month later.

Things are quieter now—softer around the edges. The air between you and Abby doesn’t crackle as much. It stretches. Breathes. You still keep your distance in certain ways, still don’t sleep in the same bed or leave your toothbrushes tangled together like before. But the rhythm is new, and not entirely unwelcome.

Abby comes over more often, but it’s never framed as anything permanent. She brings takeout when you’re too tired to cook, lingers by the sink to help with dishes, joins you and your son on Sunday walks to the park. She still calls before she comes. She still asks if it’s okay. And you always say yes, even when you’re not sure what that means.

Your son has adjusted, like kids do. He doesn’t ask why she’s here more. He doesn’t question why some mornings it’s only you, and some nights it’s all three of you on the couch, your knees brushing hers, your son fast asleep between you.

You’re rebuilding. Not with grand gestures, but with little ones. The kind that can’t be undone with a single argument.

On a Friday afternoon, your son brings home a drawing from daycare. You’re in the kitchen, packing up leftovers, when he tugs at your sleeve and holds out a sheet of paper, crumpled at the corners, crayon lines jagged and bright.

“For you, Mommy,” he says, proud.

You smile and crouch to take it from him. “You drew something?”

“Yeah,” he says. “Us.”

The picture is unmistakably his—three stick figures, wide round heads and too-long arms. One of them has your hair. The smallest is holding hands with both adults.

But it’s the label that stops you.

He’s written one word across the top in big, uneven letters.

"Family."

Your hands still. You swallow hard, staring at the drawing, at the way he’s drawn Abby beside you without hesitation.

He doesn’t understand what’s happened between you. Not really. But he feels it—that she’s here again, that something has shifted.

You don’t realize you’re crying until he tilts his head, confused.

“Why’re you sad?” he asks.

You shake your head, laughing softly as you wipe your face. “I’m not. Just... happy.”

Abby arrives ten minutes later. You don’t wait. You hold the drawing out to her without a word.

She looks at it. And then she looks at you. And her face softens the way it always has when something knocks the air out of her.

“He made it at school,” you say quietly.

She holds the paper carefully, like it’s fragile. “He called it… family.”

The word sits between you. Not a question. Not an assumption. Just a truth that neither of you has had the courage to name.

Your son is on the floor, already pulling out his dinosaurs. “Mama, come play!”

Abby glances back at you. “Can I stay a little longer?”

You nod.

And she steps inside like she never left.

Things had been going well. Quietly, steadily—like spring thaw after a long winter.

Abby started staying later. At first, it was because your son asked for another bedtime story, or she forgot something upstairs, or she’d dozed off halfway through a movie. You let her stay on the couch those nights, a folded blanket draped over her legs, her hoodie pushed under her head. The first time you found her already asleep, you brought her a pillow. The second time, you asked if she wanted one.

She never asked to stay. But she never left early either.

Eventually, the excuses started shifting. She started saying things like, “I’ll just head out in the morning,” or “I don’t want to wake him by leaving now.” And once—just once—she said, “I like waking up here.” You didn’t respond, but you didn’t pretend it didn’t settle somewhere deep in your chest.

She made coffee before you even came downstairs. She packed your son’s lunch if she heard you hit snooze too many times. She still folded the laundry a little weird, but you let her. You didn’t correct her when she started calling the house home again.

You didn’t stop her when she started keeping a toothbrush in the bathroom drawer.

And one night—when the house had gone quiet and the lights were low and you were sitting together on the couch after your son had fallen asleep between you, curled against her side like it was second nature—you looked at her, really looked at her, and said, “You don’t have to sleep on the couch tonight.”

She blinked. Softly. Carefully.

“Are you sure?”

You nodded. “I want you to.”

You changed into one of your old shirts. Abby wore hers—gray, loose, familiar. She waited until you got under the covers first before crawling in beside you. There was an inch of space between your bodies, at first. Respectful. Careful.

But you turned on your side, and she mirrored you. And before long, your face was pressed against her chest, your fingers curled into the fabric near her collarbone, her heartbeat steady and warm under your cheek.

You lay there like that, quietly breathing together. Her hand came up to rest at the nape of your neck, stroking gently, and your eyes fluttered shut, safety blooming like a slow ache.

She whispered your name once. You looked up.

Her eyes found yours.

You didn’t say anything. You didn’t have to.

You kissed her.

It wasn’t urgent. It wasn’t rushed. It was slow, deliberate, aching. You kissed her like you remembered exactly how she liked it. Like muscle memory, like muscle longing. Her hands found your waist, grounding you, anchoring you in place even as you pressed your body into hers.

Her mouth never left yours. Even when your legs slid between hers. Even when her hand crept under your shirt to touch skin she used to know so well. She kissed you through the weight of every memory you both had buried. Every soft sound you made pulled her deeper. Every soft word she whispered steadied the space between you.

You tugged at the hem of her shirt, and she helped you pull it off. She looked at you like you were something familiar and holy all at once. Her hands found your hips, your thighs, her fingers tracing every curve like she still knew how you fit against her—how to make you melt, how to make you want.

When she touched you, it was with quiet reverence, like she was rediscovering something she thought she’d lost forever. Her fingers slipped lower, slow and careful, her mouth still pressed to yours as she made you sigh, then gasp, then fall apart. She murmured soft things against your jaw—your name, little reassurances, words that made your stomach twist in the best way.

You pulled her closer, dragged her down against you, skin on skin. The warmth of her weight made your whole body hum. You wrapped your legs around her hips, urged her closer, hips meeting with friction and heat. You moved together like nothing had changed and everything had.

It wasn’t desperate. It was deep. Familiar. It was the kind of intimacy that didn’t ask for permission because it already knew it had been given long ago.

When you came again, it was quieter. Slower. Your body arching into hers, your breath caught between a gasp and a cry. Abby held you through it, her hand tangled in your hair, her lips at your shoulder.

After, she stayed close. Your head on her chest again. Her arm around your waist. Her breathing steadied into something gentle and safe.

You didn’t say I love you. Not because you didn’t feel it—but because you did. And for once, it didn’t need to be said.

You already knew.

The morning after, everything feels softer.

You wake tangled together, sunlight pouring through the curtains in golden streaks. Abby’s breath is steady against your shoulder, her arm still wrapped loosely around your waist. She stirs when your son pads into the room, rubbing his eyes with one fist and holding his stuffed giraffe in the other.

He doesn’t say anything at first. Just stands in the doorway, blinking.

Then, with a smile so casual it nearly breaks you, he says, “You sleeped here, Mama.”

Abby sits up slowly, running a hand through her hair. “Yeah, bud,” she says. “Just for last night.”

He nods, accepting that, and walks over to climb onto the bed between you. He curls up against Abby, resting his head on her stomach like he used to. For a few minutes, you lie there like that. The three of you. Quiet. Whole.

It doesn’t fall apart all at once.

It starts with a small thing. It always does.

It’s a Tuesday night. Abby had said she’d be home early—that’s the word she used. Home. You’d repeated it in your head after the call, tasting it again, trying to make sure it didn’t hurt. You made dinner. Not anything complicated, just stir-fried noodles, some chicken, the kind your son always picks through for extra carrots. You let him stir the sauce in, made it a game. He kept looking at the door every time a car passed.

But Abby didn’t show.

Not at six. Not at seven.

Your phone stayed quiet. The food went cold.

She came through the door at almost eight, still in her scrubs, her hair a mess, her face drawn tight with exhaustion. And you didn’t yell. You didn’t raise your voice. You just asked, “Why didn’t you call?”

Her eyes flicked toward your son, who had already fallen asleep on the couch, curled up with a blanket and his toy giraffe.

“I was in surgery. It ran long.”

You nodded once, but something in your chest twisted.

“I just… waited,” you said.

“I didn’t mean to be late,” she said quickly, toeing off her shoes. “You know I wouldn’t do that on purpose.”

“That’s not the point, Abby,” you replied, quieter, but sharper. “It’s not about what you meant. It’s about what you didn’t do.”

She straightened, the defense rising in her eyes before she even spoke. “What, you want me to step out of an OR with blood on my hands just to say I’ll be thirty minutes late?”

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

“Then what are you saying?”

The edge in her voice made your jaw clench. You took a breath, tried to level it out, but it still came out cracked.

“I’m saying I need to know when you’re not coming. I need to know I’m not just… waiting again.”

Her face changed at that—softened and shut down all at once. Like a door quietly closing behind her eyes. And you hated how fast she retreated. How fast the walls came back up.

“I’m doing my best,” she said, and it wasn’t angry. It was tired. That was somehow worse.

You folded your arms across your chest, not out of anger but to hold yourself together. “I know. But sometimes it doesn’t feel like we’re on the same page. And I can’t go back to pretending everything’s fine just because we’re trying again.”

Abby exhaled sharply through her nose and turned slightly, like she couldn’t stand being looked at. “You think I’m pretending?”

You were about to answer when a soft voice broke through the tension.

“…Mommy?”

Your son stood at the edge of the hallway, barefoot, giraffe in hand, sleep still clinging to his face. His eyes moved from you to Abby and back, small and uncertain.

You dropped your arms. Abby went still.

You crouched down first, your voice gentler than it had been all evening.

“Hey, baby. Why’re you awake?”

He didn’t answer. Just rubbed at one eye and mumbled, “Were you mad?”

Your throat closed up.

“No, sweetheart,” you said immediately. “We were just talking.”

He looked at Abby, who hesitated only a second before kneeling down, opening her arms.

He walked to her slowly and climbed into her lap.

“You’re not mad?” he asked, quieter now.

“No,” she murmured into his hair, closing her eyes. “Not mad. Never mad at you.”

He let her hold him for a while, then looked back at you. “Promise?”

You sat beside them and reached out to hold his hand.

“We promise,” you said. “We just got a little frustrated. But we’re okay now.”

You didn’t look at Abby when you said it. You didn’t have to. Her fingers tightened around his back in silent agreement.

You carried him to bed together, tucked him in side by side like you always did. Abby smoothed his hair back and kissed his forehead. You turned on his nightlight and left the door open just a crack, the way he liked.

In the hallway, neither of you spoke for a long moment. The quiet stretched until it ached.

Finally, you broke it. Your voice was low.

“I don’t want to fight in front of him.”

“I don’t either,” Abby said, and for the first time that night, she sounded like herself again. “I’m sorry. I should’ve called.”

You nodded. “And I shouldn’t have snapped. I just… I got scared. Felt like before again. Like the slow slipping.”

“I know,” she said softly.

You both stood there, a few feet apart, shoulders weighed down by all the promises you never thought you’d have to make again.

Abby looked at you then. Really looked at you.

“I want this to work,” she said. “Even if it’s hard. Especially because it’s hard.”

You nodded again, slower this time. “Me too.”

Neither of you said anything else. But when you both turned in for the night, she didn’t head for the couch. And you didn’t stop her when she reached for your hand beneath the covers.

You tried.

That’s what you keep telling yourself.

You tried more than most would. You opened the door again, handed her a spare key, let her back into your routines, your silence, your bed. You let your son believe it might really be different this time. And maybe for a while, it was.

But cracks don’t disappear just because you stop looking at them. And wounds don’t close properly if they keep getting reopened every time something feels too familiar.

It wasn’t one fight. It was all of them.

The small ones, the tired ones, the ones that started with a sigh and ended in silence. The ones that happened in the kitchen with your son quietly watching from the hallway. The ones that echoed in the car after drop-offs, in the bathroom at midnight, in the way you both stopped touching each other when it wasn’t convenient.

You tried therapy. It helped, at first. You both showed up. Sat on the stiff couch. Said the hard things. Held each other’s hands when you didn’t know what else to do.

You talked about resentment. About fear. About how deeply rooted your exhaustion had become. You told her how afraid you were of being the only one carrying the weight. She told you she was afraid of failing you again.

Your therapist said healing wasn’t linear. That sometimes, love meant staying. And sometimes, it meant letting go.

You both nodded. Pretended that wasn’t a mirror being held up to your last thread of hope.

But the days stretched. And the cracks deepened. And even though neither of you ever said it out loud, you both felt it—the slow quiet death of trying.

She still stayed some nights. Still helped pack lunches. Still left notes in your son’s backpack and sticky reminders on the fridge. But her smile started missing her eyes. Her laughter stopped curling at the ends. She used to reach for your hand in the dark. Now she just turned her back when the lights went off.

You fought in therapy. You cried in the parking lot. You sat side by side in the car, unable to say a single thing because the words felt like weapons, and neither of you had the strength to draw first.

Then came the Thursday she forgot your son’s parent-teacher meeting. You waited outside the classroom with your arms crossed and a knot in your stomach, watching other kids run to their moms and dads, wondering if your son would remember this. Wondering if he’d tuck it somewhere deep, the way kids do, and let it fester years from now.

She showed up twenty minutes late, breathless and apologetic and full of excuses. But you didn’t want reasons anymore. You wanted change. And she just kept giving you intention.

You didn’t talk for two days after that. She texted. You didn’t answer. Your son kept asking when Mama was coming over again.

And then she did. Quietly. Without knocking.

You were folding laundry in the living room. She stood in the doorway like a ghost.

"We can’t keep doing this to him," she said.

You didn’t look up.

"We can’t keep doing this to us," you replied.

It wasn’t a dramatic conversation. No yelling. No crying. Just exhaustion. Just two people who loved each other too much and too badly.

She stayed that night on the couch again. Not because you told her to. But because neither of you could lie beside each other with the truth hanging so loud between you.

The next morning, your son woke up early. He padded into the kitchen with his giraffe tucked under his arm, still rubbing sleep from his eyes.

He blinked up at you, then turned to the living room. "Mama?"

She sat up slowly, eyes bloodshot, hair tangled. "Hey, buddy."

He walked over and curled into her lap.

You watched them from the doorway. Watched the way she held him like she was memorizing it.

That was the last morning she stayed.

The official decision came a week later. Not in therapy. Not with fanfare. Just two cups of coffee on the kitchen counter, and one long, hard breath.

"I think we need to stop trying," you said.

Abby didn’t argue.

She nodded once. Looked down at her hands.

"Okay."

She packed slow. Again. Her scrubs. Her hoodie. The books she never read. She didn’t take everything. She never does.

When she hugged your son goodbye, she didn’t say it was forever. You didn’t tell him anything final either. Just that Mama would be at her place more now. But she’d always come back. Always see him. That he didn’t do anything wrong.

He cried. Just a little.

You did too. But not until after.

The house is back to quiet.

You still keep the hall light on for him. You still fold his clothes at the end of the day, line up his little socks and mismatched pajamas. You still sit in the same spot on the couch after he falls asleep. You still wonder if you did enough.

Sometimes he draws pictures. He draws you. He draws himself. Sometimes he draws Abby. Sometimes he doesn’t. You don’t ask why.

She still picks him up twice a week. Still texts you updates. Still sends photos of him covered in paint, asleep in the car, giggling at cartoons. He still asks if she’ll come over sometimes.

You say yes. Even when you mean maybe. Even when you mean never.

Some nights, when it rains, you let yourself imagine the way her arms used to feel around you. The way she’d tuck herself against your back like a second spine. The way her voice could break and build you at the same time.

You let yourself miss her.

And then you get up. Close the windows. Check on your son. Crawl into a bed that feels too big and too small all at once.

You stare at the ceiling and whisper the hardest thing you’ve ever had to learn.

Love is not always enough.

Not even when you want it to be.

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