#a while ago i met up w someone again after a long time and i was relieved to find out that they still smelled the same | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

clazaries · 5 months ago

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Old Love, New Dream (NSFW)

(JonathanLevy! x f!reader)

Summary: Just when you think you've recovered from a debilitating breakup with Jonathan Levy, all those feelings come rushing back when he walks back into your life again as your best friend's boyfriend. w/c: a whopping 10.1k Warnings: angst, Mira is included in this, NSFW; smut, fingering, p in v, oral (fem rec.), eventual fluff a/n: HELLOOOO! I'm back. Sorry took a small hiatus to finish off college and I really struggled to finish the end of this so apologies if it's shit. I also watched a spanish film called a treves de mi ventana (specifically the third one) which I loved and took inspiration from while I was writing this. Anyway hope you enjoy!!!

Fuck Jonathan Levy.

Fuck him and everything he stands for. Fuck him in the past and fuck him in the future. Fuck him and the way he treated you with love in his heart, with stars in his eyes, and with you at the heart of everything he did. Fuck him for being the best boyfriend, partner and friend that anyone could’ve asked for. Fuck him for promising you that it would last forever, that you would always have him for as long as you live.

Fuck him, especially on that unassuming Tuesday morning when you woke up to sadness on his face, pain behind his eyes and the truth on his lips. Fuck his ‘I think we should take a break, we need to spend time on ourselves, by ourselves.’ Fuck him for making you think that life’s not fair; because how were you to know that after six years of a strong and stable relationship, especially one that guided you hand-in-hand into adulthood, would be ripped from you in a day.

Fuck him for making you miss him so, so fucking badly to the point where you struggle to get through your day without thinking about him. The countless number of occasions where you’ve had friends and family members tell you so naively to ‘move on’, or to ‘get over him’, or that ‘you don’t miss him, you miss what you had with him.’

And in all honesty, they’re exactly right. You can’t bear to reflect upon what could’ve been, so your only alternative is to miss what you had, and therein lies that problem of why he still subconsciously worms his way back into your mind. Because he’s tied to it, intertwined so deeply that he’s the knot you just can’t unravel.

It’s not like you think about him purposely, in fact, if you had the will-power to compartmentalise everything associated with him into a box, you would lock it and throw away the key. But he left such an imprint on you that in the quietest moments of thought, his name, his face, his eyes and Jesus, even the memory of his scent appears when you least expect it. What’s worse is that they’re good memories, not the ones that broke your heart, not the ones that should be reminding you of how much of an arsehole he is, but the ones that you look back on with nostalgia.

It took a long time to come to terms that he’ll never be a part of your life again, to shake hands with the devil and accept that he will always be the one that got away. That’s the part that will never leave you. He is the big gaping wound in your heart that will never heal.

The best you could do was move away to another state, to start afresh with the hopes of finding someone new that could give you everything he did and more. But it’s proven to be a bigger challenge than you anticipated because your desire to find someone capable enough to fill the hole and let it scar has never been satiated. No one, not even in the three years since your break up with Jonathan Levy, has come close.

You had gone for such a long time thinking that this level of pain and heartbreak was exclusive to you only and that there was no one else in this world who could empathise with you. That was until you met your next door neighbour Mira who was shockingly similar to you in every way; broken from a relationship that ended years ago, desperately searching for something or someone to alleviate years of hopeless longing and the need for fulfilment. She was the therapy you always knew you needed and vice versa. There were many nights spent drinking wine, talking about ex-lovers with the same yearning, indulging in each others’ wishes of how they could relive what you both once had. Surprisingly, divulging each others’ woes became a temporary fix to your problem and soon missing him turned from a daily issue to a weekly issue. Now, he’s a quiet thought just once a month.

But things started to change one night in Mira’s dining room when she announced something you hadn’t seen coming.

She’s got a new boyfriend.

~~~~

You sit there, quietly in shock, at her oak dining table directly across from her, listening as she talks of her newly-established relationship as if she had been blessed by all the godly-deities of every power and religion.

“You have to meet him,” she says with a mouthful of spaghetti bolognese, “he’s just the sweetest guy.”

A twinge of bitterness and jealousy has your stomach clenching. “Yeah? Where did you meet him?”

“I’ve always kind’ve known of him, like, I met him last year when I was travelling for work, but recently we’re just really hit it off.”

“Do you think it’ll turn into something more serious?”

The lips of your friendly neighbour beam wider, a subtle coy sparkle evident in her eyes. “I would like to think so, I think we’re both in a really good place.”

“That’s great Mira, I’m happy for you.”

“I was actually thinking about hosting a dinner with the neighbours, like what we used to do years ago, but I might bring him along this time.”

“Wow, so really serious then. Must be something really special if you’re willing to dig up an old tradition just for him.”

She shrugs her shoulders. “Well you know, I miss those dinners. They were always so much fun. They introduced a lot of new things to us including you, and I feel it would be a good way to introduce him to the street too since they’ll be seeing a lot of him ‘round here in the future.”

The Maple Avenue dinners were once the highlight of your week, plucked from a suburban neighbourhood’s dream. It was a tradition you inadvertently started when you first moved into the street, a way of getting to know the neighbours around you. Mira, being your next door neighbour was one of the first to receive an invite and was also the one to convince others to join. Surprisingly, the occasion started a chain of events where other neighbours wanted to host their own dinners, play games, chat and share their life over wine. It happened so often that it became a weekly ritual that you all cherished, until organising a roast for ten to fifteen people became too overwhelming, especially for those who had started a family, or who had taken a promotion at work. Having no such responsibilities, you and Mira became the only two to keep the tradition alive.

“I’d like that. Want me to get in touch with the neighbours?”

“I’ll handle it.”

Two weeks pass and the Friday you have been silently dreading finally arrives. You had been prepared for it up until about an hour ago when you couldn’t remember who drinks white wine and who drinks red, who has an intolerance to dairy and who has an allergy to nuts.

Spotting Mira’s open window across the way, you decide to lean out your bedroom window, hoping to catch her attention. “Mira!” Within seconds she’s mirroring you, her hair still pinned in curls and her body wrapped in her satin robe.

“What?”

“I was going to bring my roasted hazelnut cookies but I can’t remember who has a dairy intolerance and who has a nut allergy.”

“Don’t you remember? Alan doesn’t have dairy, it could get hairy, and Steph doesn’t have nuts, no buts. You don’t need to worry though, they can’t make it tonight.”

“See, this is why you’re the better neighbour. Red or white?”

“Go for red. Jonathan drinks red.”

For a moment, your heart stutters a little in your chest, a small sense of unease tightening your muscles, but you need to remember, it’s just a name. A popular boy’s name. “Jonathan?”

“Jonathan as in boyfriend Jonathan. As in the-reason-why-we’re-doing-this Jonathan.”

“Oh right,” you nervously laugh, “you’ve always referred to him as ‘the boyfriend’ it made me forget that he actually has a name.”

“Yeah, well he’ll soon have a face too. Although he said he might be a little late tonight and doesn’t mind missing the starter. He'll be here for the main.”

“Okay, can’t wait!”

Having food preparations sorted, you take the remaining few hours to present yourself; washing, bathing, moisturising, curling your hair, applying that little extra bit of makeup, and finally choosing an outfit. Despite it only being Mira and a handful of the neighbours who have seen you in worse states, you still feel the need to look presentable in front of a new face, perhaps the result of your mother’s behaviour rubbing off on you when she faced similar situations. ‘Always presentable, always welcoming. First impressions matter.’

Her words stay true to this day. It’s what banked you a job, friends amongst the neighbourhood, and impossibly so, Jonathan Levy’s attraction many, many years ago.

Since the weather had transitioned well into the Spring’s warmth, you settle for a sundress knowing that Mira fully intends to use her beautiful backyard to see off the sunset after dinner. It fits you perfectly, complimented by the sparkling golden necklace that sits squarely between your clavicles; the very same Jonathan had gifted you on your 21st birthday, which to anyone should be reason enough to get rid of it, but just like how you can’t completely get rid of the thought of Jonathan, you can’t get rid of the necklace. At least, not yet.

You arrive a little earlier than Mira had instructed but with good intentions. You help her set the table, stick the necessary food in the oven and ease her nerves. You’re glad to see her dressed similarly, having put in that little extra glamour on top of her usual appearance to appease her guests and, of course, her boyfriend which you both casually joke about.

Soon, one by one, the neighbours start arriving and quickly settle into their own seats as the first course gets plated out. Only one seat across from you remains empty.

You’re surprised by how quickly it starts to feel like nothing’s changed at all; being here together conversing over a roast, clinking glasses and laughing over memories and you remind yourself to give thanks to Mira’s new boyfriend for reigniting a fire that burned out long ago. However it seems like you might need to wait your turn with how engrossed the rest of the neighbours are in Mira’s new boyfriend, everyone wants to meet him. His name fails to fall out of conversation with now being the only chance to ask about him before he arrives.

“So how did he ask you out?” Lisa, from number 32, asks, sitting next to her husband Tom.

“He took me on a date to Rosano’s, very generously paid for my meal, and then we went for a walk along the pier where he surprised me with a bouquet of pink peonies that he had the ice cream vendor keep before the date. He had it all planned out.”

Everyone around you awes with adoration, their lips pouting and their hands over their chest, almost identical to the way people reacted when you told a similar story to your friends when they asked you how your Jonathan asked you out. Only after you swallow the soft lump of potato do you force yourself to respond in the same way, too caught up in your own memories to give an immediate reaction.

Pink peonies. Your favourite flower.

It takes everything in you to ignore the blaring alarm in your head, screaming and fussing over the coincidences. You boil it down to emotions running high and how everything lately has been reminding you of your ex, subconsciously relating everything back to the time you spent with him. Fuck, you didn’t even need to try that hard to link the lentil soup you’re eating back to him. The first meal you had together when you both moved into your new apartment…

The starter course and the conversation concluded when Mira’s boyfriend chapped on the front door. With an understanding nod, you take the plates from Mira’s hands, offering to take them to the kitchen while she answers the door. While there, you can hear through the walls, listening to the cacophony of people greeting one another, sharing names and pleasantries while you stand over the kitchen sink. While the tap runs, you look up to your reflection in the kitchen window, twisting your strands of hair to re-curl that one piece that had fallen flat. First impressions. Better make it a good one.

You enter the dining room once again with a beaming smile on your face ready to welcome him in, and standing there, by Mira’s side, is the last person you want to see.

Jonathan. Fucking. Levy.

It is by chance, or perhaps by fate's cruel hand, that you find yourselves face to face once again in the most unexpected of places. There’s barely enough time to react when your eyes meet from across the room, picked out from a sea of people being none the wiser to the unfortunate predicament you both face. In that moment, amongst the din of the dining room, time almost comes to a stand still and you’re left waiting in the doorway with bated breath, overrun by a wash of emotions as Jonathan’s eyes are confronted with the same feeling.

Between you and him, Jonathan seems to keep up the pretence better than you do as his smile barely dips, but enough to know that he recognises you, enough to know that he too is filled with the same amount of dread and confusion as you are. And as Mira walks him over to introduce you, he doesn’t let the facade fall.

She introduces your name to him and without a seconds’ hesitation, he offers his hand. “Hi, I’m Jonathan, nice to meet you.”

There’s a moment’s delay before you take it, his warmth no stranger to your skin, and with a little wobble to your voice you relay his words back to him. “It’s…it’s nice to meet you too, Jonathan.”

His eyes stay on you as Mira thankfully takes control of the conversation. Poor, oblivious Mira who is unaware of the fact that your Jonathan has just become her Jonathan…because surnames were never mentioned. “Is the food ready to come out?”

“Uh, yeah. I can…I can help out if you need.”

“Perfect! Jonathan, honey, you go sit and get yourself a drink, ‘kay? Dinner won’t be long.”

You watch agonisingly as Mira peppers his cheek with a kiss and follows you into the kitchen where you finally get a chance to navigate the minefield of unresolved emotions without a roomful of witnesses.

Mira instantly tends to the roast slowly cooking away in the oven leaving you to stand in the corner, almost not knowing what to do yourself. An explosion has just gone off inside you yet Mira and a roomful of people are expecting you to carry on as normal, as if years and years’ worth of recovery hasn’t just been stripped from you within a single second. Thousands of layers of hurt have been peeled back and left you bare and vulnerable to your biggest fear, and yet Jonathan’s pretence to not know you has forced you to deal with it as if it’s nothing.

What the fuck are you supposed to do?

“So what do you think?” Mira pulls you from your musing and peers up to you, a proud smile on her face. Her. Mira. It’s all for Mira’s sake, the innocent party in all of this. The realisation hits you like a freight train. If she knew anything about Jonathan being the ex you talked for hours about, it would destroy her. “He’s nice, right?”

“Lovely,” you gleam back, kickstarting your limbs to dish out the cooked vegetables. “He seems very nice.”

“I knew you’d like him.”

If only, Mira, if only.

Not enough time passes before everyone is sat at the dinner table once more, tucking into the delicious food warmly prepared by Mira. You wouldn’t even know, you’ve barely touched it. You can’t find it in you to enjoy the food nor engage in the jovial conversation happening around you because Jonathan Fucking Levy, your ex of six years, is sitting right across from you behaving so casually it makes your stomach churn.

The little ball of stuffing rolls across your plate, dancing from side to side over and over again. You take the small amount of comfort you can find in the hypnotic motion, stuck in a trance of watching this stuffing ball roll back and forward while Jonathan Fucking Levy drones on about his endeavours. You try to pay him no attention of course, but when everyone else around you is sucked into his conversation narrated by his smooth-like-honey voice that used to whisper sweet nothings in your ear, it’s harder said than done.

You dip in and out of his story telling every now and then because you can’t stop your curiosity from wondering just how different the last three years have been for him. Apparently he took ‘personal growth’ seriously and you come to realise that it wasn’t just a shoddy excuse to break up. He’s become a reputable academic, striving in the industry and made quite a name for himself which he explains so beautifully, so fluent with expression and elegant with his choice of his words that hooks everyone in which, given his career choice, makes all the more sense. Then, when you throw in his confident manner and the slightly animated way he presents himself when he speaks passionately about something (which, back in the day, used to be you), it accumulates to something you can’t help but admire. You see it in the eyes of your neighbours around you, afraid to blink for fears of missing something spectacular.

It really makes you wonder how he can act so calm and collected. It’s been three years. Surely there has to be one little atom inside him that's swayed by your being here. There has to be.

Oh, there definitely is.

You don’t know it because you refuse to look at him, but every part of Jonathan is burning with anxiety. If you could just spare him one glance you would see that his fingers twitch around the thin stem of the wine glass, that his whole body shakes with his bobbing knee, and that his teeth incessantly chew away at his bottom lip. At least he has the red wine to thank, staining his cheeks with enough colour to conceal how pale he would be otherwise.

Because he’s terrified. Terrified of not only seeing you, but missing you. Desperately, hopelessly, and unquestionably missing you. He feared he would never see you again to tell you. Yet here you are, sitting an arm’s length away from him, unknowingly tormenting him with the scent of your perfume that consumes every particle of air around him, effortlessly resurrecting memories of how he used to wish that scent would wake him up every morning like it used to. If only he could reach out to feel the buzz of your skin on his, just like it did when you shook his hand, the electricity that flowed through him when your eyes found his. He’s already experiencing withdrawal and he craves for your attention but you won’t look at him anymore. He needs you to look at him again, he needs you to know that he’s been plagued with regret since the moment you split. How can he get you to look at him?

“So what do you do?”

His question cuts through the running conversation like a sharp knife, demanding the attention of everyone at the table as they silence and wait for your answer. It takes you a second to realise he’s talking to you and had it been without everyone staring at you, you would’ve ignored him. But you don’t want to come across as rude to the other guests, and you settle for answering coldly.

“Just corporate work, just a simple nine-to-five-Monday-to-Friday kind of job. It’s nothing special.”

Mira interjects and you happily give her your attention if it means taking it away from Jonathan. Only, she’s leaning against his shoulder, softly patting his thigh affectionately. “Oh she’s being modest, she’s a finance manager, runs the full finance department with an iron fist, don’t you?”

“I manage a small team of bookkeepers and accountants, it’s barely a department.”

“Interesting, how did you get into that?” You pan back to Jonathan who’s munching away, glaring at him through the furrow of your eyebrows, almost vehement at his audacity because he already knows how you got in financing. It was him.

“A friend.”

“What do you mean?” This bastard.

“A friend convinced me to do it. I didn’t have the confidence at the time and he motivated me.”

“That was nice of him.” Sarcasm drips with every word.

You bite back. “Yeah, he was nice. Until he wasn’t. Anyway, that’s a different story for a different time. More wine, anyone?” There’s a few mumbles of agreement, giving you enough of an excuse to rise from the table and make your way to Mira’s pantry in search of a stronger, more bitter tasting wine because God knows you’re going to need it to get through the rest of this dinner.

Dessert comes and goes at an agonising pace. With the help of wine and the particularly boozy dessert, you become less inhibited, detangling yourself from the thick tension that’s lassoed tight around you and Jonathan.

Instead, you find solace in Harry, who lives at number 30, sitting next to you, telling you about the struggles of being a single dad to two troublesome toddlers. It’s quite a depressing conversation and not the pick-me-up you were looking for, but anything is better than having to quietly observe the flirting that’s happening across the table. You deceive Harry into thinking that he’s got your full attention but really you’re hyper aware of Mira and Jonathan in your peripheral vision, sharing small, intimate touches, glancing at each other with stars in their eyes, embraced by the bliss of new-found love.

That used to be you. You haven’t had anything like that since.

“So…uh…” You have all intentions of continuing the conversation with Harry but you weren’t listening well enough to remember where he left off. “Who’s looking after the kids tonight?”

“I hired a babysitter. Which reminds me,” he checks the time on his phone. “I said I’d be back by 8 and it’s 7:57. I better go.” To your dismay, your distraction rises from the table, grabs his jacket from the chair, thanks Mira for the meal and bids everyone a good night. Damn. There goes your distraction.

Everyone around you is locked deep in conversation under the lowlights of Mira’s dining room. All except you. With a heavy sigh, you reach for your wine glass to once again relish the dry, bitter taste of the alcohol as it trickles down your throat. You slouch further and further back against your chair, wallowing in your isolation that no one seems to take notice of.

But Jonathan does, and to your surprise, you feel something tentatively brush against your leg. At first you thought you had gotten too close to the table leg, but when it starts creeping up the length of your leg underneath your dress, your only option is to consider the man sitting directly across from you. Your eyes burn into the side of his head, ignorant to you while he talks enthusiastically about something you’re not privy to. Not that you want to be, especially when the tip of his shoe caresses the back of your calf, pulling it out from underneath you and hooking your ankle closer to him. He remains unfazed as your foot gently rests atop his underneath the table, tracing small circles over your achilles heel.

Your heart beats widely inside you, violently disorientating you as much as the twisting in your stomach does. The gesture is so provocative you’re almost sweating in your seat. It’s scandalous, outrageous, and downright inappropriate, but you’ll be damned to hell if you don’t admit to yourself that it feels mildly arousing.

Only when Mira leaves for the bathroom does he catch a glimpse of you over the tip of his wine glass and old sparks fly as you read the words in his eyes that his mouth can’t say. I miss you. I want you. I need you.

Shaken, you draw back your leg and pull your eyes from his, feeling completely lost and indecisive about what to do. The hidden touches, the secrecy, it’s all too intimate for you to be opening an old wound that still hasn’t fully healed. You’re not ready for three years of hardship to manifest.

Yet again Mira comes to the rescue when she returns from the bathroom and ushers all the remaining guests out into the backyard where you sit yourself as far away from Jonathan as possible, but it’s not without the touch of Jonathan’s hand to the small of your back as you all walk out through the glass panel doors, unnoticed by everyone else. There isn’t a doubt in your mind that he saw the momentary shiver that wracked your shoulders the moment his fingers splayed across the bottom of your spine, virtually feeling the heat of your body through the cotton sundress as if it was your own skin. You make a mental note to yourself to never get close to Jonathan for the remainder of the night.

Once you get outside, you look up to your bedroom window, visible from all areas of Mira’s garden, wishing that you return to the comforts of your own bed, lost in your book and free from this emotional torment. It takes just a glimpse of your window to see everything inside it, something you hadn’t realised was possible until Mira had to awkwardly knock on your door the second week of you moving here and gently warn you to draw your blinds when you were changing. And just as the thought arises…

“Do you remember,” Mira hiccups, perhaps on her sixth glass of wine of the night, “when I had to tell you to close your blinds two weeks after you moved here? I actually thought you were maybe trying to seduce me!” She laughs wholeheartedly, nearly spilling her wine onto Jonathan’s lap.

A blush blooms on your cheeks. “I didn’t realise you could see in! If I had known I would’ve! Jesus, Mira, way to make me out as a flasher in front of the neighbours.”

“Listen, if it makes you feel any better, some guys would’ve paid thousands to have seen what I saw every morning.”

With a nervous glance of your eyes, you see Jonathan’s glare hard on you.

“Do I need to contact the HOA and tell them we’ve got a pervert in our neighbourhood?”

The neighbours laugh but Mira rushes to her defence, unknowingly giving Jonathan that all important detail that he might take advantage of later. “My window is right there! How could I not see you?”

“Conversation over.”

Against your wishes, Mira dives into many conversations of a similar nature provoked by Jonathan who annoyingly asks all sorts of questions that involve how you and Mira became friends, forcing her, in her now drunken state, to divulge all the memories you share together, including the many nights you spent talking about ex-lovers. The minute she starts spilling everything, nausea starts to pool inside you and the colour trickles away from your cheeks. Knowing none the wiser, she talks on and on and on about how you bonded over the troubles and hardships of being single, detailing everything about how you would reminisce over ex-lovers and compare them to every shitty cheesy romance film you watched together. And with just a few stories, she single-handedly exposes all of your inner thoughts and feelings towards Jonathan. Right in front of him all for him to hear.

You silently plead with your eyes, solid in their gaze in the hopes that Mira would catch on and shut up, but she’s seven, no, eight glasses of wine deep that she can’t hold anybody’s gaze let alone yours.

Jonathan merely sits and listens, amused by everything that is pouring out from Mira’s loud mouth.

“I mean, it’s hard. And you’ll agree with me on this, that trying to get back into the dating scene as a single woman isn’t an easy experience! You go on dates with guys that bore you to sleep, clicking with absolutely none of them and it just leads to you going home and dreaming about meeting the one guy that sweeps you off your feet. Of course, you’ll know what I mean because you’ve already met him--”

“Mira--”

She turns to Jonathan to give him context. Knowledge that he already knows himself. “She had this one guy that she dated years ago, the one-that-got-away kind of guy. We used to laugh about him--”

Jonathan’s eyebrows shoot up. “Oh really? How so?”

Fuck.

“Mira--”

“Just the usual girly stuff, what we would wear at our weddings, thinking about baby names, and talk about owning the perfect house in the suburbs, that kind of stuff.”

Jonathan turns to you with an emotion you can only only describe as being distressed, possibly on the verge of being disturbed and you don’t blame him. You’re sure that he could see the very same feeling in you through the gaps of your fingers as they hide your face in embarrassment.

This is possibly your worst nightmare come to life. The entire night had dwindled into absolute ruins and there’s nothing more that you want than to bury yourself into the ground, away from Mira, away from this mortifying feeling, away from Jonathan. You know it’s not her fault, but everything in you is wanting you to blame Mira, to be judge, jury and executioner and lay out all that she is guilty of in front of her. However in reality, you’re projecting. You were the one to tell her about Jonathan. You were the one to feed her all this information believing that not a word of it would ever reach Jonathan’s ears, and when you consider all that has led up to this exact moment, you are just as at fault as she is.

And you need to make a run from it while you can.

“I’m…uh, I think I’m going to go home,” you announce, not realising how shaky your voice is until you speak up. Mira’s expression falls with disappointment, coming immediately to a stand and trying her hardest to convince you to stay. But you know nothing could.

“Do you want us to walk you home?”

“Mira, I live next door, I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

She persistently follows you back into the house. “I’ll walk you to the door then.”

“I know where the front door is--”

“I just want to make sure you get home okay--”

“Mira, honey, you go sit, I’ll walk her out.” Jonathan’s voice appears from behind you both, reassuring enough that Mira follows his word and returns to the back garden with a mousey ‘okay’. Once gone, Jonathan, stoic as ever, catches you in his stride, escorting you to the door with a hand to the back of your shoulder.

This time, when you speak, you can’t stop the sniffle as your emotions run high. “If I don’t want Mira walking me out, I sure as shit don’t want you walking me out.”

He merely looks down to you and sighs, not listening to a single word you say. Within a matter of seconds, you exit through Mira’s front door, ready and willing to slam it in Jonathan’s face but he’s just a pace too quick and is already following you through the front garden. Your body goes into high alert, having no idea what he’s about to do now that for the first time in three years, you have a moment alone together.

“Jonathan,” you warn. “Go back inside.”

“Just let me walk you home.”

“Why?”

“Why? Because I want an explanation as to what the fuck just happened in there.”

“You’re not getting one. You don’t deserve one. Go back inside, Jonathan, your girlfriend is waiting on you.”

“Like hell. Will you just talk to me for one second?!” He reaches out and grabs your arm, swinging you around to face him where your bodies stand inches apart. It’s not in anger nor frustration but in desperation, as if this is the only chance he’ll ever get again to speak to you alone and he’s not willing to let it slip by him so easily. “Is…is what Mira said true? Did you really talk about all those things?”

You look down to your fingers wringing them out while you wait for the courage to build. “That wasn’t her information to share. But what does it matter anyway, it’s…stupid.”

“It matters to me.” He tilts your chin with the gentlest of touches, his hand lingering close to your neck as he picks up the necklace sitting delicately around your neck, one that he’s all too familiar with. “I miss you.”

“Don’t…don’t say that to me.” You begin to feel the tethers keeping the remains of your composure snapping, your mouth sinking deeper into a frown the way it always does when you’re about to cry. “You don’t get to say that to me.”

“Nonetheless, it’s true. And I think you missed me too.”

You roll your eyes and he immediately scorns you. “No, no, don’t do that. Don’t invalidate it just because I said it. I’m not trying to be smug or patronising, I want to know the truth. Did you miss me?”

The wobble in your lip becomes uncontrollable. You don’t have the option to lie because he can read every minute feature on your face like it’s laid out for him in words, he would know if you didn’t tell the truth. With a deep breath, you push out the admission. “Every. Fucking. Day.”

He nods understandably, retracting his hand from your necklace and sinks it deep into his pockets. He looks up to your window before quietly murmuring words suggestive in tone, “then keep your window open tonight.”

And it takes your breath away.

~~~~

It’s late. A little past 1am. It’s been all too silent since the last of Mira’s guests left about an hour ago leaving only her and Jonathan next door.

His last words to you before you separated still echo loudly in your ears but you just can’t figure what he meant. It’s the only thing that’s kept you up this late, and even as you sit on your bed just a few metres from your open window that lets in a cool, calming breeze, you still can’t fathom what he’s intending to do because her window across from you is closed, her curtains drawn and her lights out.

Is this a joke? Is this Jonathan’s cruel twisted idea of a joke to make you watch as he and Mira settle for the night? Teasing you with something you can’t have? The foundation of that idea had developed a little less than half an hour ago and the more time ticks on, the more bricks are added to it.

Having enough, you turn your back to your window, taking your duvet and slinging it over your head and around your shoulders, blocking out the world behind you. There’s no point trying to sleep, the embarrassment and the emotional trauma of tonight are still too raw for you to find any peace, so you reach for the half-finished book on your nightstand.

Fuck Jonathan Levy. Fuck him and everything he stands for. Fuck him in the past and--

Wait, what was that?

Just then, not even two lines into your book you hear the small creak of a door opening and closing coming from outside. Your eyes dart to your digital clock reading 1:10am. It could be Mark coming in from his backshift. It could be Erin, Alan’s teenage daughter sneaking in from a night out. It could be Rebecca, taking her dog out on a late night walk. All options are plausible and wouldn’t be completely out of the ordinary. But there’s one option that you’re afraid to consider.

What if it’s Jonathan?

You don’t look to check because you wouldn’t know what you would do if it was him, and so in the meantime, you continue to anxiously sit and listen out for any other clues.

In time, they come. The rustling of the ivy that weaves in and out of your lattice fencing on the side of your house. The breaths of a man as he scales up the wooden structure to your window. The heaviness of his boots as they thud against your floorboards. The raspiness of his voice as he mutters your name. He’s here. In your room, and yet you still can’t bring yourself to turn around to face him. Your breaths are tremorous as he makes his way closer to you, almost shaking with anticipation of what’s about to happen.

He doesn’t say anything else, doesn’t make any rash decisions. For a moment, he pauses by the side of your bed eyeing you up with your duvet slung over your head and decidedly reaches for it, taking a fistful of the sheets and dragging it slowly away from you until you’re exposed to him, still dressed in the sundress you couldn’t bring yourself to take off. The tension locks you in a chokehold, unable to move, unable to speak, waiting for the moment where Jonathan’s hand reaches out to touch you once more but you know it’ll be different this time. No more gentle touches hidden in plain sight, no more casual excuses to lay his hands on you, everything that will happen here on in will be the result of three years of separation and withdrawal.

The bed dips under his weight and only then do you turn your head to look over your left shoulder. He’s closer than you expected and you see the tufts of his curls hanging over his forehead come into sight, low and looming. His nose comes into contact with your shoulder and even the slightest touch sets you alight. He scales up the curve of your neck to hide deep within the locks of your hair behind your ear and inhales.

“That fucking perfume,” he whispers softly into your hair. “It’s just as perfect as I remember.”

“Jonathan, we…” you heaved a breath, fighting temptation. “We shouldn’t do this.”

“You have no idea, do you?” He murmurs directly into your ear, his arm coming around to circle your waist and hug you closer to him. “No idea just how much I missed you, how much I regret what I did, and every day I spent not being with you was a reminder of the mistake I made to the point where I thought I would never get to hold you again.”

He renders you speechless when he scrapes away the strands of your hair and mouths at the curve of your neck, humming into your skin. It’s almost the same as before, soft pillowy lips showering you with unreserved passion, except this time they’re followed by the slight scrape of his beard grown in the years you hadn’t seen him. It makes his kisses more exhilarating, stimulating. While your body screams for more, your morals just can’t shake the guilt of betraying your own friend.

“But Mira--”

“Mira knows.”

You detach yourself from his lips to face him, still half-lidded and unfazed by his admission. You’re almost nauseous with the way your heart drops in your chest. “What do you mean she knows?”

Despite your surprise, Jonathan simply tilts his head as he assesses your face in the sheen of the streetlight like he’s seeing you for the first time all over again and doesn’t stop his fingers from intertwining with the short baby hairs at the nape of your neck.

“She had an inkling that there was something going on between us. There was a reason why she brought me up in the conversation earlier in the garden because she knew from the moment she saw the look on your face when you saw me. So I came clean. We decided to be completely honest with each other and we talked for a while.”

“And?”

“Well, she knew your thoughts on me…and it was more than I had ever thought to hear.”

Your cheeks flush angrily, wincing at the thought of Mira revealing every confession told with such a lack of restraint. Back then, telling Mira these things felt like securing all of your secrets into a vault, trusting that they would be safe, trusting that they were secure enough that no one besides you would have access to them. In hindsight, you should’ve perceived her as more of a time capsule, planted, hidden for the time being, and when after enough time passes, they are bound to be found by someone else.

“I know that you hated me for a while - and I did too. I always wondered whether you resented me as much as I did, for a while I thought it wasn’t possible. And while I knew the resentment was one sided, there was a part of me that wished that missing each other wasn’t. I guess I found my answers tonight.”

“Was Mira mad?”

“No, darling,” he grazes his chin over the curve of your shoulder, lips inching closer and closer to your own. “She considered you to be too much of a friend to get in the way and cause you any pain, not after all that you had told her. She knew you would’ve done the same for her.”

“I…I don’t know what to think. It’s all just a mess.”

You turn your head towards the book in your hands, fingers fiddling with the page, while you try to figure out where your loyalties lie. With your head? With your heart? It’s a wonder how the same body can feel two entirely opposing feelings and yet still wonder which one is the right one.

“Maybe…” Jonathan whispers, his hand reaching for the book and sliding it from your grasp, “maybe, you don’t need to think at all. Let me do the thinking for you. Let me show you just how much I’ve missed you, because fuck, as much as I love this dress you have on, I’m much more interested in what’s underneath it.” While one hand pulls you tighter against his chest, his other hand comes to slide down your thigh until curls around your knee, bunching the fabric tight in his fist and pulling it higher and higher. You watch with eager eyes, succumbing to Jonathan’s temptation and letting go of all of your inhibitions. Your eyes grow heavy, wanting to relish the feeling of his fingertips tracing the length of your inner thigh as they gently pull your legs apart, but it’s much more satisfying to watch. Jonathan doesn’t need to watch, not when he can taste the supple skin of your neck.

It’s almost agonising how slow his pace is, how he stalls every couple of seconds to trace circles on your skin and devilishly chuckles when you whimper. “I can’t say I’m not disappointed though, talking about our life’s plan without me.”

Just as his fingers feel the outer rim of your underwear, you tilt your head back to lean against his shoulder with a sinful sigh. Opening your legs just that little bit wider tells Joanthan everything he needs to know. It’s been years. Years since he’s had you like this, so he has every reason not to take it slowly and fuck you like a man starved of your touch, but there’s something in him, perhaps the little devil on his shoulder, that persuades him to take it slowly, to exploit the part of you that has missed him and prove to you that the years spent apart, however painful, was worth the wait.

“Tell me,” he urges, “tell me what you had imagined.”

Call you ignorant but you’re not quite in the talking mood. However, you feel he won’t do a single thing to you unless you do as he asks. “That…that we’d get married in the small church near the vineyard where we grew up. I imagined a quiet house in the suburbs, just us two, at least for a while.”

“Hm, what kind of house?”

“One that wasn’t too big that we’d feel far apart, and not too small that we would get in each other’s way. One with a garage and a garden where our dog could run around.”

“Good,” he praises into your ear. A single digit slips beneath your underwear which instantly gets a feel of your warm, wettening cunt, and you grow impatient. “What else?”

“After a while, we…shit…we’d have our own kids. A boy and a girl. I’d hope they’d have your eyes.”

After doing a few rounds of your entrance, the tip of his finger rests upon your clit, barely moving. Your hips start moving fluidly, all of their own volition but he eases his touch. Instead he gives a gentle tap tap tap, urging you to continue before you can get any more.

The hand that keeps you stable around your middle eventually slithers up to wrap around your neck squeezing with a dizzying pressure.

“Keep going…”

“We’d take an early retirement so that we could grow old together. Taking vacations to places we’d never been to before, being the same couple we were when we were younger.”

“Oh yeah? I love the sound of that. Just as much as I love the sound of those moans you make. Keep singing little siren.” The moan that leaves your lips the minute he nibbles on your lobe is unrecognisable. You haven’t been seduced like this in years and every atom of you is buzzing with anxiety and in your physical form, you can’t sit still. It takes the weight and pressure of Jonathan’s thighs resting either side of your hips to keep you anchored.

His fingers make quick work of building you up, conjuring that deep, guttural feeling of pleasure and desire to stir within you. Even after years, he still knows you so well, still knows what makes you tick and what makes you scream. There isn’t an inch of your neck that Jonathan’s lips haven’t touched; sucking, licking, biting until you’re coloured with bruises.

“Seems like you have it all planned out, darling. But why don’t I tell you how I imagined tonight would go?”

“Please.”

Just as his words flow from his mouth, two fingers slide easily into you and curl into that spot makes your body restless and your lungs heaving. “Just as I did, I’d find you here, confess that there wasn’t a day that went by where I didn’t think of you, tell you how I yearned to have the sweet taste of you on my tongue again and the tight squeeze of that cunt around my cock. I’d seduce you every way I knew I could and I’d want you to want it. I’d want you to tell me that you want it and once I knew I had you again, I’d get on my knees, lift up that dress of yours and taste you. Get you nice and wet, ready to take me.”

“Fuck, Jonathan--”

“After years, I thought my patience would get the better of me if I ever had this chance again, but seeing you here like this,” his fingers pick up the pace, drilling into you and filling the room with sacrilegious sounds. “I think I might want to take my time, let each minute that passes reflect what I have been thinking about every day we were apart.”

“Please,” you whisper, growing evermore impatient. It all sounds too good. The more he speaks his feelings into words the more you want it. To have the feeling of him touch you everywhere, to feel him inside you, snug and shaped by him and bringing you to the precipice of losing your mind the way only he could. “I need you, Jonathan, need you now.”

His lips come to your cheek, shaped by a smile of satisfaction. “You will, darling. Soon. I just want to savour this right now.”

His fingers slip from your cunt, trailing all that he’s gathered up the length of your slit to come crashing down onto your clit. While he circles and swirls his fingers, you twist your head to lock eyes with him and even in the cover of darkness, you can still make out the fire that’s burning within him leaving no doubt that he truly wants to ravish you just as he has described. But it isn’t a roaring fire, it’s a slow burning candle, flickering away to slowly dissolve all of what’s left of his patience.

Like instinct, your lips clash together hungrily not sparing a second before your tongues and welding together and tasting the remnants of the red wine you both had earlier. Inexplicably, it tastes sweeter on his palate.

The fingers that curl around your neck tense as if they’re fighting to keep you stable, surging to keep your restlessness at bay and all of this is making you wonder ‘why not just get on with it?’.

You decide to hasten the pace, raising your hips closer to his fingers with the tips of your toes, feeling his cock grind against the small of your back where it should be grinding against your cunt. Though that may be how you truly feel, you make do with his fingers toying with you with his palm flat against your pubic bone to keep you close, once again making you twitch with anticipation and hum with desire. You’re close, so close that with just another lap of his fingers would make you explode.

Holy shit. You’re going to cum. You’re to cum on Jonathan Fucking Levy’s fingers.

“Don’t you think we should maybe close your blinds?” He taunts, suddenly halting all of his movements. “Surely you wouldn’t want the neighbours to see how easily you fall apart for me.”

Jesus. Where did this side of Jonathan come from?

“Um…y-yeah. Close them.” God, it’s starting to take effect on you. When was the last time a man made you stumble over your own words like that?

With a gentle kiss to your cheek, he rises from the bed to leave you attempting to find relief from the friction of your thighs, chasing what you were seconds from having.

When you begin to wonder what takes him so long, you turn to face him staring out of the window, his silhouette blocking the light of the streetlamp that normally floods in through the glass. The fingers that were toying with your cunt seconds ago twitch by his side rubbing together the remnants of your slick, so sensual that it has you biting your bottom lip. Before he closes the curtain he takes those fingers and puts them in his mouth as if he’s just swiped the whipped cream from atop a pudding he’s forbidden to have. But sometimes that’s what makes it all the sweeter.

“Jonathan?” you whisper to pull him from his reverie, your patience waning.

“Coming,” he says gently. “Just taking it all in. You, me…” he snaps the curtains closed and plunges you both into darkness, “your taste on my tongue.”

Slowly and somewhat menacingly he turns around and his shoulders are hunched, his fists are clenched, his breathing is audibly racing. The tone instantly changes when he comes to stand over you, his fingers tilting your chin up to look at him directly. It hooks you in immediately, suddenly feeling the compulsion to do whatever he wants, to go wherever he guides you.

Jonathan’s voice slithers through the air like a snake through the wreaths, worming its way into the valley of your ears so clear and precise. “I know I said I was going to take this slowly and I whole-heartedly intend to follow through with that. But just so you know, I don’t think I can be gentle. Can you allow me that?”

“Yes, Jonathan, yes.”

“Good.”

It amazes you how one short syllable completely changes the aura of the room, how easily Jonathan commands control of the situation because all of a sudden, the gentle traces of his fingertips circling your chin changes to a clawed hand around your neck, drawing you into an all-consuming kiss that’s more powerful than before. Without missing a single beat, he forces you onto your back and hovers over you, caging you in and anchoring his weight down onto your pelvis. It should feel claustrophobic and intrusive, but instead it feels like a sanctuary; warm, safe, secure.

Where it feels like he belongs.

Shivers race up your spine and throw your hands into motion as they cling onto his shirt, luring him even closer until the beat of his heart is pounding against yours. Not only that, but you can feel his hips thrusting into yours, grinding his contained cock against your heat and it elicits a moan from both of you. With a sudden rush of adrenaline, he races to undo his belt, pulling himself free and you almost squeal with the anticipation of knowing how well he can undo you with one swift thrust. But like Jonathan promised, he isn’t going to rush this. He slowly peels off your underwear until you are well and truly exposed.

Not without a few pumps of his fist, he lines himself up and anchors you down, teasing your entrance with the head of his leaking cock, giving you a taster of what’s to come.

“You drive me fucking insane,” he grumbles into your mouth. “Always have, always will.”

“Please stop talking.”

“Or what, huh?” he chuckles. He takes the head of his cock and batters it against your swollen clit. Deliberately, you guess, to render you speechless. And it works, the snide quip hot on your lips quickly loses all conviction and you’re back to moans and whimpers. “‘S what I thought. You and I both know how much we want this. How much we’ve missed this.”

This time you take the chance to bite back before he robs you of it. “Well get on with it, then.”

Now driven, he snags your bottom lip with his teeth dragging it out until it’s released with a pop. “Fine.”

Giving you a final taste of his lips, he comes to a stand taking your legs with him with a mighty pull until your hips lie just over the precipice of the bed. He hugs your legs to his chest, his cock lining up with your exposed cunt perfectly and with powerful thrust, he sinks deep into you. All of the air punches out of your lungs in a single beat and you claw at the bed sheets while you fight for your breath back. You’re momentarily debilitated while you acclimate to his size, filling you so effortlessly. Despite being slightly uncomfortable, it’s a welcome intrusion and you’re thankful that he gives you a minute.

“Fuck, you’re so tight. Holy fuck.”

Not a moment later, he pulls his hips back, completely withdrawing and just when you think you’ve got your breath back he charges into you again, snapping his hips against your ass and sending aftershocks up the length of your body. It’s a motion he repeats over and over again, giving you that pleasurable feeling of being so full of him as he grinds into you all to be taken away within a moment leaving utterly empty. You have just enough awareness to listen out for the staccato notes of his hips slapping against yours followed by your sheepish sobs.

It’s insatiable. He never changes pace and the power of his thrusts never falters. He certainly doesn’t allude to breaking his promise of rushing things and frustratingly so, continues his slow rampage, finding pleasure in that little sweet spot where the swollen ridge of his cock drags from your cunt. It’s enough to get you going, but not enough to finish you off.

“I need more,” you beg between breaths. “Please.”

Jonathan doesn’t respond, and instead waits until the cheeks of your ass are red raw from his poundings (which feels like a lifetime) and only then, does he take a new approach. Your legs swing apart, forced wide open by his greedy hands and you’re left to watch with bated breath as he drops to his knees and devours you.

“Fuck, Jonathan!”

“Mm, that’s right, baby, say my name.”

“Jonath--fuck!” His mouth completely consumes every inch of your cunt, lavishing the taste of you with his tongue from deep within you to the tip of your clit. Amongst the buzzes of his hum, the soft scrape of his beard, and the crescent-moon marks pressing into your waist, your back arches as desire slowly morphs into a desperate pain, needing to give his hot mouth more access to your cunt if it was at all possible. And just when you think you are ready to give in, he steals the moment from you. With two fingers, he slots them easily into you and starts working your pussy at a torturous pace.

“Look how soaked you are.” His lips brush against your clit as he speaks, a depraved grunt rolling from the back of his throat.

“I’m gonna cum.”

“Do it. I want it. I wanna taste you. I want you.”

Your heart grows, a small smile appearing on your lips. The warmth of affection stills you momentarily to appreciate how you have your old love back, the man you could never really get over, that all those years of waiting and wanting are over. You don’t know what it was about the sudden softness and love-drunkenness that washed through you, but God, he was stunning. Everything about him was annoyingly perfect. Stupidly, annoyingly perfect. Yet, here he was, lavishing you as if you were an elixir of life.

Your fingers itch to race through his locks to pull him closer, tempted to never let him go. Through his dark lashes, his lust-heavy eyes find yours as if he knew what you were insinuating.

“Don’t worry, baby, I’m never leaving. Let go for me.”

You didn’t need to be told again. With the final swipe of his tongue across your clit, you internal combust, your entire body folding into itself with Jonathan trapped between your thighs.

----

You and Jonathan spent the night catching up on all the years you spent apart, sharing orgasm after orgasm until you were completely and utterly spent. Despite only having just a few hours of sleep, you awoke early in the morning, just in time to see the sun rise over the peak of your neighbours’ houses. All is calm in the street aside from the few birds tweeting in Mira’s tree and Jonathan’s steady breathing beside you. The tranquil, blissful few moments of consciousness fills you with a sense of rejuvenation from all that has happened within the last 24 hours. If it hadn’t been for Mira’s approval beforehand, you would be drowning in guilt. You make a mental reminder to talk to her and apologise later.

You roll over on your side of the bed to find Jonathan sleeping peacefully beside you, his hand tucked under his chin like it always did when he was deep in slumber and you quirk a smile when you realise that nothing’s changed. With a delicate finger, you sweep away the curl resting against his forehead, careful not to wake him but yet he still stirs, readjusting himself subconsciously. Though not fully awake, he reaches out for you as if it was instinct and little do you know, it is. Every morning since you split, Jonathan had always reached out for you to find nothing but empty cold space on the other side of his bed and it was a sad reality he couldn’t quite accept. But now, when his fingertips feel the warmth of your skin against his, he doesn’t hesitate to lure you into his embrace to relish the lingering scent of your perfume, the slow beating of your heart, the little content hum singing from your throat. You’re here. You’re real. And he’s certain to never lose you again.

In his drowsy state, he puckers his lips in a timid kiss to the surface of your forehead.

“Love you,” he quietly murmurs.

With a breathy laugh, you return his kiss, whispering the same words against his bare chest directly over his heart.

I love you too, Jonathan Fucking Levy.

#oscar isaac #oscar isaac smut #jonathan levy #jonathan levy smut #oscar isaac characters #scenes from a marriage #jonathan levy x reader #jonathan levy x you #fluff #angst #oscar isaac fic #jonathan levy fic #old love new dream #moon knight

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anisangeldust · 6 months ago

Text

Coriolanus Snow NSFW alphabet

A/N: did one for Ani a bit ago!

Because Coriolanus is the way he is, I’m doing this all based on the idea that he genuinely loves you.

Fem!reader x young!Coriolanus

A = Aftercare: Coriolanus would definitely have to learn about the importance of aftercare. I feel like he’d only understand after a few months of being sexually active. But after that it’s 10/10.

B = Body part: his favorite body part on himself is his hands. The way he can make you feel good, the power and strength they posses, and how objectively beautiful they are. On a partner would definitely be hips. He loves to grab, squeeze, and pinch your hips.

C = Cum: Coriolanus LOVES cumming on you until you’re akin to a glazed donut. He loves the way it marks you, almost like he’s claiming his territory. But when he wants kids, it’s creampie after creampie for you!

D = Dirty secret: He’s definitely very subby sometimes, and it takes him a very long time to admit that he loves not being in control all the time.

E = Experience: Academy Coryo was a cum in his pants if you touched him virgin, but anything PK on he’s very experienced.

F = Favorite position: 100% piledriver. He’s obsessed with how deep and hard he can go. But I also think doggy and riding him are other faves.

G = Goofy: Coriolanus Snow isn’t goofy. He’d be as serious as they come during sex.

H = Hair: He strikes me as the kind of guy who is completely shaved. Like no hair at all down there. And (don’t hate me) he’d expect the same from you, I lwk think he’d think pubic hair is gross.

I = Intimacy: With sex in general he used to be very robotic, just get off and go. But once he met you he’s so obsessed with your pleasure that he treats you like a princess while fucking you like a slut.

J = Jack off: once again, Academy Coryo was best friends with his right hand, but anything PK after he sees no use. He can always find someone to fuck. And after you two start he can’t get off if it’s not you doing something.

K = Kink: President Snow is into ddlg. I said what I said. Also I think bondage/ any kind of sensory stimulation or play is up his alley.

L = Location: (President Snow) He loves the bed most of the time; if it ain’t broke don’t fix it, but he also adores bending you over his desk randomly.

M = Motivation: Anything to do with you is a turn on, because you two go at it so often, he thinks about you all the time. And anything associated with you makes him want you.

N = No: I know lots of people love Snowjanus x reader, but I can’t imagine Coriolanus ever sharing you. He’s obsessively possessive, and he’d rather shoot himself in the face than have someone else pleasure you.

O = Oral: I don’t think he’s as much of a munch as people say he is. He’s 100% prefers receiving, but he also definitely gets off on you getting off; so he’s really good at eating pussy.

P = Pace: Listen, if he really wanted to, he’d be slow and loving. But 99.9% of the time he’s fast and rough, he fucks you until you can’t feel your waist and down.

Q = Quickie: I feel the same I do for Anakin. He’ll do it if he really needs you or you really need him, but he prefers taking his time and getting into it.

R = Risk: He’s 100% into anything you put on the table. Coryo is a freaky mf. I think maybe all except President Coriolanus would be done for exhibition.

S = Stamina: Coryo’s stamina is crazy. He goes until he feels satisfied. So if that means it’s hours upon hours, too bad.

T = Toys: At first he’d hate toys. Why would he let silicone do what he can do? But after a bit and some learning, he starts to understand the benefits. I think he’d own a butt plus for each of you, and a multitude of vibes and dildos.

U = Unfair: Oh he’s so unfair. His favorite punishment is to get you super close to the edge, and then make you wear a chastity belt while you watch him get off. (Escp President Snow)

V = Volume: I don’t think he’s super super loud, just grunts and groans. Maybe the occasional mewl or whimper.

W = Wild card: Anal. You, him, doesn’t matter. He loves being on the giving and receiving end of anal.

X = X-ray: He’s definitely packing. Maybe 7-8 inches? He’s definitely not super girthy, but he’s longgg.

Y = Yearning: Coryo could go all day if he wanted, he has the stamina of a teenage boy who snorted viagra. So anything about you makes him hard and needy.

Z = Zzz: he’s out like a light. He cuddles into your boobs and he’s a goner, lord help him if you play with his hair.

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hellhazbinstuck · 6 months ago

Note

I wanted to ask for wlw verosika imagine. Basically the reader was w verosika in rehab and they had something going on but nothing ever happened until they randomly find each other in a bar. The reader would think verosika doesn't remember abt her but they would end up tangled in the bar's bathroom

You had gotten out of rehab months ago, and right now, you were throwing some of that time away at a bar. You were talking to a cute girl, and you could feel it going nowhere. Cute was no substitute for Veronica.

That sounds really fucking shallow. Normally, you wouldn't compare someone you'd just met to a pop star of all people. But Verosika was.... different. You met her at the shitty rehab you went to, and you thought you hit it off pretty well. You gave her your number when she got early, already a long shot, and she never used it.

"I'm sorry, I have to use the restroom." You told the girl sitting next to you before you booked it to a stall in the ladies' room. You did have to go, but mostly, you were just trying to dodge the girl and make sure nothing would go any further.

After about fifteen minutes, you left the restroom. On your way to get another drink, you ran into someone.

"Oh my God, I'm so- Verosika?" The embarrassment in your face went away when you realized it was her. "I haven't seen you in a while." You blushed, but you were clearly sad. "What are you doing here?"

She put an arm around you. "I've been looking for you for a while. I came here because you mentioned this bar in rehab, and I've been trying to find you for months ever since your phone disappeared." She pulled a phone out of her purse. " I believe this is yours. "

You slowly took the phone while looking up at her. "I thought you forgot about me. I thought I was too boring and-" She cut you off with a deep kiss. "You're too fantastic and beautiful to forget about. You're the one person I've made a connection with who didn't see me as a pop star first instead of who I am."

She picked you up, making your legs wrap around your waist, and kissed you again. "Do you wanna take this to the bathroom? I think we've both been way too deprived of each other. " You responded by kissing her.

She set you on the counter and kicked every stall door to make sure nobody could watch you. "Where were we?" She said, stroking the inside of your thigh. You decided to be forward and started unzipping your dress before she stopped you. "Let me do all of that Y/N"

Verosika started unzipping your dress, her lips practically latched to your neck, causing your moans to echo off the bathroom walls. "No bra? That's good for me." She immediately put one of your ripples in her mouth, making you moan almost instantly. "Fuck I missed how responsive you are." She growled in your ear as her hands went under your dress and ripped your panties off.

She started rubbing circles on your clit, making your legs shake and your hands let go of the counter. She put three fingers in your pussy and tried to start off slowly. "P-please, go faster. I need it so badly!"

"Fuck, I've missed everything about you baby. I'm not letting you go again." Her fingers moved even faster, and she took your clit into her mouth. She started off licking in slow circles and increasing her speed almost by the second.

She smirked against your clit as your moans got louder and your walls tightened around her fingers. "Verosika! Fuck, mommy can I cum?!" She smirked against your clit, you always know how to be the sweetest. "Yes, baby."

She kissed you, moving her fingers even faster. "F-fuck! Mommy! Please!" You moaned out. Your legs began shaking as you came all over her fingers.

Verosika licked everything off of her fingers before putting you back in your dress and putting your ripped panties in her purse.

She picked you up bridal style and carried you to her limo. Your legs always gave out after she fucked you, so she wasn't gonna make you walk. "Let's go home. Fuck, I've missed you."

#helluva boss x you #helluva boss verosika #helluva boss x y/n #helluva boss x reader #helluva verosika #verosika mayday x female reader #hb verosika #verosika mayday #verosika mayday x reader #verosika mayday x fem!reader #verosika mayday smut

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souglias · 6 months ago

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People Say To Take Things One Step At A Time For A Reason [GINTOKI]

OR: Gintoki makes a dire mistake about you in his drunken state

Gintoki x f!reader

c/w: gintoki has been drinking, alcohol mention, use of pet names (but for humour effect), all fluff no angst :>

word count: 1.2k

note: something I wrote for fun and sheesh finally a fluffy gintoki fic rather than my usual bittersweet fics. For my followers who saw my post about a gintoki multi-chapter fic a while ago, just in case you thought this is it, this is not it. Inspired by this (I couldn't find the image from the original artist's twitter 0-(-( )

All likes and reblogs are appreciated!

The phone rings at your bookstore at 1am as you're finishing up some administrative logs. It must be a prank for a call that’s way beyond opening hours. Even if it isn't, you decide you don't want to deal with queries at this time. The phone quietens after 5 rings.

Not long later, the phone starts ringing again. It sounds like urgent business for someone to be calling a bookstore twice in the middle of the night.

"Hello, this is Kabukicho books. How can I help you?"

An all-too-familiar voice comes out from the receiver. His words are slurred and you press the receiver to your ears as you strain to listen to him.

"Heyy, are you free for... dinner?"

"Gintoki. It is long past dinner."

"Dinner is any time after lunch and before breakfast."

"I want to sleep and you should too."

You hear whining from the other end of the phone. "Can't you have at least a parfait with me? We haven't met in a while!"

Is this a secret, roundabout cry for help from him? Coming from the very lips of Gintoki, those words feel like stark yellow paint on a white wall.

Regardless, you are a little concerned he's going to die in a ditch somewhere instead of making it home. Even if he's gotten this drunk multiple times before he called you today.

He prompts you again with a "hello" before you hear some crashing on the other side.

You suppose once is fine. It is a solid reason to see the person you harbour feelings for. On top of that, he's right that the two of you have not seen each other for a while. And just maybe, it is a sign that he chose to call you out of everyone else.

(Okay but maybe you're just being delusional. Who else he could even call? Kagura would simply smash the ringing phone at this hour. If he calls up the Shimura household, Otae would tell him to die rather than let her younger brother pick him up.)

You sigh, "Where are you now?"

He hums a little before telling you the bar he visited. You pack up your work (that is still 1% unfinished) and head out into the cold winter night to find him. Gintoki should thank his lucky stars that you like him, otherwise, you would have left him to freeze. Almost no one gets to interrupt your work.

You easily find the telephone booth near the bar he patronised. As you approach the telephone booth, you see a scene you find somewhat humorous. He's bent over backwards in the cramped space, face pressed against the clear glass of the booth and feet propped against the other side. His eyes are closed, mouth slightly open with drool.

Taking out your phone, you snap a photo of him before you knock on the door. He's so ridiculously unsightly, but it endears you.

One eye of his cracks open and his lips upturn. You swing the door open and give him an unamused look. That doesn't shake his half-lidded eyes and a wide smile.

"Yo, you pretty thing."

Your heart skips a beat. Gintoki is possessed, or he's lost it. All Gintoki has been calling you is an ugly hag and a shit-faced bitch. To call you pretty is... out of this world.

"You're way too fucking drunk. Get out of there by yourself, I'm not helping you."

As he twists and turns to get himself out of that difficult position, he whines again. "Help me, woman! You can do this little thing for me right?”

Seeing him struggle, you decide to milk this scene. “Well, who am I for you to assume this is ‘little’?”

“My girlfriend.”

You're sure your face is visibly red at this point, and your heart is beating in your throat. You manage to stammer out, "What?"

"You're my girlfriend duh!" He exclaims without an ounce of doubt in his statement.

He's lost it. He's lost it.

"Since when? Huh? Huh? Why was I not informed about this?"

"Huh? Why are you-"

Gintoki freezes and he narrows his eyes at you. It dawns on him that you are not his girlfriend.

To be precise, he has not asked you to be his girlfriend.

Suddenly, he's able to stand upright in the phone booth. He remains rooted there, his body turned away from you. What has he done? His heart beats at a thousand per hour and he thinks he might collapse.

"Did you mistake me for a girlfriend or something? Anyway, you should have told us you have one."

He could pretend to black out now. Or maybe he should try to be smooth.

"Well, no... I don't. I just forgot I wasn't in the future, that's all!"

Gintoki timidly looks over his shoulder to check your reaction. From the puzzled look on your face, he fucked it. He doesn't even remember the exact pick-up line if one like this actually existed. Something about a girlfriend but in the future.

"What are you talking about..."

He averts his gaze again. The obvious way to clarify everything is to be honest with you. It's that easy. It's that easy. But he can't say it. Even in his half-intoxicated state, he feels like he'll keel over saying those three or five words. He did plan to say it some time, but not in this manner.

You watch his broad back slowly shrink inwards, and you hear him mumble something you don't catch. A gut feeling fills your chest. You breathe, slowly regaining your composure. Meanwhile, he decides he should pretend to black out.

"Look, if you wanted me to be your girlfriend, you should have asked me first. I would have said yes. Don't skip steps, please. I'd like some order."

Already amid Operation Pretend-To-Collapse, Gintoki falls backwards and lands on the ground. But his eyes are wide open instead of shut as he lies on the ground, searching for a sign of a joke from you. You lower into a crouch, continuing to stare into his bewildered eyes.

“So, what will it be, darling?”

The weight you put on what you just called him makes him shudder. His face is too distractingly hot compared to his body for him to come up with any kind of retort. He mumbles again with his eyes looking elsewhere.

“Huh? I can’t hear you, you have to speak up.”

Words come out in a murmur. All you hear is the word “girlfriend” but you egg him more. “What?? Is this all you got, Sakata Gintoki??”

His hand reaches for your face and he pulls you towards him, pressing your lips against his. You can smell a sweet alcohol scent on him. When you pull away, you find a fiery, intense gaze in his eyes.

“You’re my girlfriend now, stupid.”

Just like that, he renders you speechless. But a smile tugs on the corner of your lips, and you stifle a laugh.

Gintoki picks himself up from the ground, still a little woozy. You grab his arm to steady him, then decide to wrap your arm around his back. He stiffens slightly but eases into your arm for support. When he rests his arm around your shoulders, both of you begin the journey to his home.

“Just so you know, I have unfinished work thanks to your ‘little’ favour. You owe me now. Maybe you should be the one buying me a parfait instead, honeypie.”

He glances at you only for a moment, unamused, before he turns away. You laugh, getting a kick from the whole night of teasing your friend-turned-boyfriend. Suddenly, you stop laughing.

“You didn’t throw up before you met me right?”

“I didn’t.”

Disgust starts creeping onto your face. “Are you sure? Are you sure?”

“I didn’t, you shit.”

#gintoki x reader #sakata gintoki x reader #sakata gintoki imagines #sakata gintoki #gintama x reader #gintama writing #gintama imagines #gintama #souglia.s #the way i had titled this 'confess your love for me' in my google docs #also fun fact this idea has been sitting in my drafts for a while #and it was inspired by a particular piece of pinterest art that has him drunk and bent over in a telephone booth

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solannn · 6 months ago

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i dunno if reqs are still open, if sent at wrong time I'm so so sorry </3 (or if the fandom/anime I'm trying to request is not in ur list) I wanna request headcannons or drabbles aboutt 15!Chuuya (or Dazai, you can choose>_<) x w/ 15-16(?) y/o reader that has the same personality as Kyouko Sakura or maybe Mami Tomoe from puella magi? (Or the same ability) once again if this doesn't make sense i'm deeply sorry— puella magi and bsd has my HEART at the moment p-p

‘‘𝐏𝐔𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀 𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈’’

ᥫ᭡ 𝐌𝐀𝐌𝐈, ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⤷ Chuuya, Dazai with someone who’s like mami tomoe & kyouko sakura from puella magi. headcanon, gn reader, ooc for chuuya and non-consistency. Hints of male ( ? )

DAZAI OSAMU ;

( mami tomoe )

• i think, Dazai would be slightly intrigued by you, the first time he met you. You were assigned for a mission for the first, you seemed more experienced in mission than he does.

• It’s a long time since you’ve been paired with someone around your age, you felt lonely after doing mission alone. Mori didn’t want you feel so isolated since you’re so most experimented teen in pm, so after Soukoku’s first mission together he pairs you with Dazai.

• Dazai founded you rather, interesting. You were enough stong to fight on your own, and had a sense of personal justice to help anyone. He never really saw your ability during the mission, he wants to know what’s your ability about.

• he would maybe stubborn around, trying to find what’s special about you, how long you’ve been here, and how did you met Mori. His question was also intrusive to your liking, however you didn’t mind answering It.

"What’s your ability ?" Dazai asked, while playing with his Game console. His curiousity was slowly peaking out after their missions. [Name] rather a calm person, who doesn’t say about themselves much, unless you ask him. The brown haired male groaned as he lost his game, so he slightly looks up gaining back his attention on [Name]. ".., "I can summon percussion-lock rifled muskets, which are weapons or are used as a melee weapon. " You stated, as eyes met Dazai’s. The male in front of him lower his brows faintly. "that’s seems cool if you know how to use it." He admitted, his mouth forming a pout expecting a cooler ability. But, maybe you had cool way to use It. "Silly question, how long have you been here ?" He inquired, suddenly his pouty expression changed to serious one. "Four years ago." You revealed, you have been here, the longest time you could remember. His mouth gapped apart, this long ? "Before, you came here, i felt lonely. Nobody at my age was here to do mission with me." You admitted, your friendless state when you were younger. "ohhh" is the only sound that came out of Dazai’s throat.

Osamu now, appreciate you congratulations !!

CHUUYA NAKAHARA ;

( kyouko sakura )

• Chuuya noticed you, when you were walking around. His eyes always caught yours wherever you are here in pm or outside for a mission.

• Usually, he never saw you inside the pm. So that is why, he doesn’t know much about you. He heard some 'rumors' about you, some were about you fighting with the other members, as if you didn’t careless about them or just you being selfish. Some person said, that he shouldn’t go near you.

• His choose was to confront you, to see if you were as bad as they thought, and won’t hesitate to retaliate if you became aggressive towards him. When he saw you, you were chilling eating [fav food] in peace.

"So, you’re [Name], right ?" He asked you, his step became heavy to your ears, the heels of his boots tapped on the ground as he got closer, he was getting closer to you. "yeah ? Why are you even asking this?" You buntly spoke, eating the bite of your food. You expression was rather calm, you didn’t show any sigh of selfishness or anything, you just enjoyed your time. His brows narrowed faintly, those stupid rumors seems false when he saw you. "Is this about those person, i fight with ? Isn’t it ?" You inquired, looking at him. "Hah, you don’t seems like a bad person huh ?" A grin appears on the corner of his mouth. "ugh, whatever you say." A sweat drop flowed down your forehead, putting you chins on you palm. "I’m not cruel," You spoke, rolling you eyes. "But i’m not nice neither." You sarcastically stated. "Huh ?" A confuse sound came out of Chuuya’s mouth. He had to admitted, both of them resembled each other without meaning to. You were hot-headed, so he is. He’s the type of person would never get along with his partner, Dazai. And You don’t get along with anoyone, but both of you are still reasonable person to talk with. Might a future sign of them getting along, and tries to trust each other, having their sweet spot with each other and them trying to giving each other a will of life and humanity and its not their fault 🙏⁉️

A/N ; HELPP IDK WHAT I WAS TRYING TO DO W CHUUYA HEKP…

#male reader #x male reader #anime x male reader #male #dazai x reader #dazai osamu #dazai x male reader #dazai osamu x reader #bsd x gn reader #bsd x gender neutral reader #bsd x you #bsd x y/n #bsd x male reader #chuuya x male reader #chuuya x reader #bungo stray dogs x male reader #bungo stray dogs x reader

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multi-fxndom446 · 3 months ago

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Wherever you go

Gojo Satoru X Reader

Warning: Gojo may be a little ooc but I really don’t think that much, reincarnation, everyone’s alive. Best friend Tsumiki. Sukunas a professor, so is Nanami. Gojo and geto are students too.

Summary: After having the same nightmare almost every night everything comes to a head when you are met with his blue eyes and a whole life time of memories

Word count: 2.7k

Please don’t look to hard at particulars I wrote this immediately when I had the idea. Tsumiki and Megumi are still related.

I just woke up from a dream where you and I had to say goodbye and I don’t know what it all means.

The day started out like any normal day.

You woke up from the same nightmare, got dressed, did your regular morning routine then went outside to meet your friend, Tsumiki in the same spot you do every morning.

You passed by the same people every morning, most of them the owners of the small shops on the street. You said good morning as usual.

You went to the same cafe as you always did when you and tsumiki needed to work on an assignment, you usually picked the same seat every time but today there was already someone in your seat.

But other than that one hiccup, by all accounts this was just like any other day.

So why did you feel like your nerves were on end. Like you were missing something or like today was some important day.

You stopped in your tracks when you registered someone had taken your usual spot, your eyes staring holes into the back of the guys head. It wasn’t even like you were upset, you couldn’t claim a public table but something about him felt familiar.

His long dark hair tied up in a bun while he drank his drink seemingly waiting on another to join him if the drink waiting on the other side of the table was anything to go by.

“Hey come on, I see a table over there.” Your attention was brought back to Tsumiki who was tugging on your wrist and pointing to a table in the corner.

You could tell she was rushing you to the table since the cafe was starting to fill up so you let her drag you over and when you sat down your original table, along with the familiar man, was out of sight and you felt like you could breathe a sigh of relief.

But still you were on the edge of your seat. You were slow to pull out your laptop and by the time you did Tsumiki had already had hers open and was typing away.

It wasn’t until you set your laptop on the table and opened it did she sense that something was off with you. She watched you for a moment and you could feel her staring at you intensely so you put your hands on the keys acting as if you were about to type.

But your mind was blank and your fingers wouldn’t move. You glanced at her for a split second before looking away when you saw her leaning forward with a raised eyebrow.

“Are you okay?” She had finally asked after a few moments of you just staring at your computer that wasn’t even turned on. You just nodded slowly like you were also trying to convince yourself you were fine. “Y/n seriously what’s up? You look exhausted.” There was a moment of silence before she reached across the table to place her hand on your arm. “Did you have that nightmare again?”

The nightmare.

The same one you’d been having every night for the last year.

It started out simple enough, you could honestly barely tell what was happening and you completely forgot about it by morning like any other dream.

But over time it had gotten worse and worse. It became clearer to you every night until it reached the point of feeling like it was a distant memory.

It was almost as if you could see it happening like it was just yesterday. Like you were dying in the arms of someone just a moment ago. You could almost feel their warmth wrapped around you as they held on.

You could almost hear the trembling of their voice even though when you had this nightmare you could never hear a sound. You couldn’t hear the words being spoken to you or even see the face of the person who shook while they held you close.

Your gaze must’ve gone hazy as you recalled the nightmare because in the next moment you felt her hand shaking your arm slightly with a worried whisper of your name.

You looked up at her again and put on the best smile you could, waving her off with a slight laugh.

“No no, just this project is gonna run me into the ground.” Which wasn’t entirely a lie. The professor was known to be harsh in his grading and you more often than not stayed up late working on his assignments.

“Professor Sukuna?” You nodded and she gave you a grimace before leaning back into her chair, retracting her hand. You were glad she seemed to believe your lie. “I’m so glad I didn’t get him. Not like Professor Nanami is any better.”

You laughed when she let out a dejected sigh. “At least he gives you a little breathing room. Professor Sukuna has been non-stop assignments and projects.” You finally turned on your computer ready to move past the weird morning.

Just as you were about to start typing Tsumikis phone started vibrating with an incoming call. “Oh I gotta take this it’s Megumi. I’ll be back.” You nodded with a smile and told her to tell him you said hello.

Left alone, you finally started on your assignment and let everything else fall to the background. You needed a good grade on this, if you got one more bad grade in Professor Sukunas class…you shuddered just thinking about the malicious glare you had received more than you’d like to admit.

Just as you went to type something your hand stopped. A chill ran up your spine, an oddly familiar sensation like someone running their fingers lightly down your back.

You felt like your heart all of a sudden dropped or sped up to an ungodly speed that you felt like it was about to give out.

You realized belatedly that your hands were shaking. Out of the corner of your eye you saw someone outside the window walking by you. You saw the flash of white hair but it was enough to make you stop breathing.

You didn’t turn your head, you didn’t want to. You were scared all of a sudden. You felt your heart squeeze painfully in your chest at the lack of oxygen.

A whisper of pain slid up your side and the familiarity of the feeling had you wanting to curl in a ball and cry and you didn’t know why.

You felt like you might pass out and you probably would’ve had Tsumiki not come back with a smile on her face, unaware of your current state.

“Sorry Megumi was asking me about-“ her question cut short and finally your body started moving again. Your eyes looked over to her in question, wondering why she stopped talking. “Y/n..what happened? Why are you crying?”

What?

Your hand that was previously stuck over your keyboard shaking, reached up to run a delicate finger across your cheek.

You pulled your hand away to see your friend was right. You were crying.

You went to open your mouth to reply, to tell her you were fine- that you didn’t know why you were crying when a voice across the cafe stopped you dead in your tracks.

“Suguru!” An eerily familiar voice sung out and the words you were about to say stuck in your throat and it genuinely felt like this time you couldn’t breathe.

“Satoru.” Another voice sighed and this time you felt the tears fall down your cheeks and watched as they clouded your vision. “You’re late.”

You couldn’t register anymore of the conversation. There was a ringing in your ears and your head felt like it was going to explode.

In front of you, you could see tsumikis mouth moving in what looked like her calling your name but you couldn’t hear and you couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t breathe.

Tsumiki grabbed onto your arm again and forced you to look at her. She said your name again and this time you could faintly hear it. She motioned for you to take a deep breathe and you did and followed when she motioned to breathe out.

She stayed like that for a few more moments until she could see you came back to her. “What just happened?” She asked, rubbing your arm soothingly.

“I-I don’t know.” You wiped at your eyes. “I feel like there’s something I should remember but can’t.”

She looked between you and your computer before shutting it closed and doing the same to hers. You looked at her in confusion when she started packing up. “Let’s go somewhere. Our projects aren’t due yet, let’s get out of here.”

You watched her as she stood and she turned to you expectantly so you followed suit and packed up your things.

She grabbed your hand as she dragged you to the front of the cafe towards the door. You couldn’t help but laugh softly, thankful she was there.

Just as you got to the front door dead silence seemed to fill the cafe and you stopped in your tracks.

You looked to your usual table where the man with the bun was sitting waiting for his friend. Now though the friend was there, staring at you.

His bright blue eyes widened in shock and the sunglasses he had in his grasp fell to the table with a clatter. There was no one else in the cafe in that moment.

His mouth opened like he was about to say something but all at once everything came crashing down on you.

His eyes.

You can almost recall seeing his eyes somewhere…everywhere.

Your mind felt like it was splitting open as thoughts-as memories filled your head the longer you stared at him.

Nothing to clear but enough for you to be sure you know him or you should know him somehow. Like you knew him in some other lifetime.

Some other lifetime…

Your mind whispered back his name to you, Satoru. It came so softly as if you had heard it a thousand times and associated it with some kind of warm feeling.

As if you’ve stared into those blue eyes so many times you’ve lost count.

Tsumiki tugged you out the door before you could think anymore and by the time you were just down the street turning the corner you saw him run out of the cafe, looking both ways frantically.

But your voice wouldn’t let you call out to him so you let your friend pull you away from him.

It wouldn’t be until weeks later that you would see him again. It wasn’t like you had been avoiding trying to find him but he never seemed to be at the cafe the same time as you.

And with you finishing your project for Professor Sukuna your visits to the cafe became less frequent

The memory of him was always on your mind as well as some underlying feeling that you couldn’t seem to reach. Like something was on the tip of your tongue but it was gone from your mind when you thought too hard about it.

So you stopped thinking too hard and just let his memory sit there while you went on with your life.

Today though was different. Today you did go to the cafe and this time alone. Tsumiki was out with her brother getting him ready for a school trip.

You were sat at your usual table that was vacant this time around. The whole cafe seemed to be vacant today with only you and one other older lady sitting at the far end.

You were just finishing up some homework you had for another class, your laptop open and a pen and paper next to you as you jotted down notes.

The bell above the front door chimed but you paid it no mind, you were too focused on the notes to care who came in.

But then the chair in front of you scraped along the floor as someone pulled it out and sat down. Your hand froze mid sentence and your gaze stayed down as if scared to see who was in front of you, even though deep down you knew..

“Do you know how long I’ve been looking for you?” Finally you glanced up and were met with bright blue eyes. Your breathe hitched as those prodding memories from before started to slip back into focus.

It felt like your brain had been dunked into ice water and pulled every memory into the forefront of your mind. Like you finally broke the barrier that held all of these old feelings from you.

You can see a memory, although blurry it was there. His face was slightly blurred but you’d never mistake those beautiful eyes and the striking white hair.

You could barely hear him talk, the words sounding too far away but you understood enough to know he was trying to convince you to stay where you were.

“Wherever you go, that's where I’ll follow.” You could hear yourself telling him. The phrase alone causing another pang of hurt to course through you.

He’d told you those words before when you were teenagers and you were about to go on a mission alone.

He’d never let you go alone and in turn you never let him go alone.

As more memories came to light the clearer they became. You could see the look on his face like he knew he wasn’t going to come out alive and he didn’t want to take you down with him.

You could almost feel the trace of his fingers down your jaw as he gazed at you almost like it was the last time.

You could see in your mind's eye now why your side hurt so much. It was because Sukuna had driven a hole through your side.

Sukuna

You could feel Satorus warmth wrap around you instantly. And finally finally you could see your nightmare clearly, you could finally see the person who was holding you while you died.

You could see the person who was trembling, you could feel as his tears fell onto your cheek, you could taste the metallic taste of your own blood and you could finally hear the words he spoke to you.

“This is why I told you not to come.” His voice trembled and you can almost feel yourself frown, not used to hearing him be so vulnerable. “I can’t lose you too. Please not you.”

You remember your bloodied hand coming up to caress his cheek. You didn’t respond, you couldn’t even if you wanted to. You just smiled at him and hoped your eyes conveyed all the love you held for him.

Then your eyes closed and you could feel his head drop down to your neck where he let a few quiet sobs go before he took a deep breathe and whispered against your skin. “Wherever you go, that's where I’ll follow. I promise.” Then he squeezed you tightly one more time then layed your body down.

He gave your forehead one last kiss before he went to fight knowing full and well he would be joining you in death soon enough.

So many memories. So many moments.

You watched as hundreds of shared kisses flitted through your mind. Thousands of hugs and gentle caresses.

You were never a firm believer on reincarnation but you know these memories you’ve lived these memories and there’s no denying that.

His touch brought you back, his cold hand softly cradling your cheek so he could wipe away the tears. He had a pained look in his eyes like he had waited for this moment for so long.

“Satoru-“

“Seven lifetimes.” He let out a small huff at the confusion that crossed your face. “That’s how long I’ve been trying to find you.”

“You-“ your words choked. He had waited for so long. Did he have these memories the whole time? Or was he like you and only had nightmares of when you were separated? “I’m sorry.”

He was quick to get to his feet and pull you into his arms while you cried. More and more memories came in slowly and it finally felt like you had found a missing puzzle piece to a forgotten puzzle.

“I promised I’d follow.” You nodded against his chest.

“Thank you.”

His arms wrapped tighter around you. You had a million questions but for now just being in his arms safe and sound again was all you needed.

Hope yall like it

#gojo satoru x reader #jjk imagines #jjk x reader #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujustu kaisen imagine #gojo x reader #gojo satoru imagine

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ode2cheol · 1 year ago

Text

maybe we can try if you let me ..

6.6k words ☠️ angst fluff hurt comfort pining jealousy royalty au prince! mingyu f!noble!reader one sided love, mentions of infidelity/cheating reader is childhood friends w dokyeom like one mention of blood not proofread

“so, how does it feel?” miyeon inquired excitedly from your side, dusting her fingers carefully over her tiara once again, “i’m still in shocked that one of us is actually getting married”

you forced a gentle smile to her, never wanting to crush her excitement. it’s not her fault she’s blissfully unaware of how you felt about the entire situation. it’s not her fault that your engagement was purely made of convenience. it’s not her fault that you hardly considered it was truly you getting married. it’s not her fault your soon-to-be husband didn’t love you back. and it’s not her fault that you’ve been hopelessly in love with him for years.

miyeon never knew about your infatuation with mingyu, you never told her because the second you did it was a sign that your feelings for mingyu were strong enough for you to inform others of it, and you convinced yourself you’d never let it come to that.

although this should’ve been a dream come true for you, your inner teenage self bashfully giggling at the thought of marrying the prince you’d harboured feelings for since you’d first met him, the part of you that was now mature enough to realise loving someone didn’t always mean they’d love you back quivered in fear at the thought of being tied to a marriage where you’d never receive a fraction of the love you felt.

“it feels.. surreal. i don’t think i’ve still realised i’m actually engaged, that i’ll be somebody’s wife, you know?” you tried putting up a convincing enough act, hoping she’d take your hesitance as nerves rather than melancholy.

she nodded understandingly, soothing over shoulder reassuringly.

“that’s fairly understandable. if i was you i’d be all the same” she hummed, “not long ago we were giggling at the thought of picking a wedding dress and now you’re meeting the tailors at the end of the week”

right. you weren’t particularly excited for it like you’d dreamt you’d be. in fact, you dreading it the more you thought of it. because the fitting would just be you and your fiancé mingyu.

pushing the thought to the back of your head, you smiled at miyeon once again and continued entertaining her questions until you’d both decided to call it a night, miyeon headed back to her chambers while you could barely sleep, mind too busy thinking about what your life had come to and what it will come to after your marriage.

there was no official date for the wedding yet, but rumours circulating the palace led you to learn that there was a ball in a weeks time, whether the wedding would be before or after you could only find out from the prince himself, and whether or not you can would attend the ball with mingyu was also something you’d have to find out from him.

however, you could never bring yourself to ask him. every moment since you’d learnt of the ball was an opportunity to find the prince and get any idea of what was happening, but you were too much of a coward to ever go through with asking him.

you paced outside of his study once again, debating whether or not you should knock on the intimidating oak door. you hovered your fist over the door for the seemingly hundredth time that morning before sighing defeatedly and turning on your heal to leave. but before you could take your first step the doors swung open as you froze immediately.

there he was. kim mingyu, the crown prince and your soon to be husband. he was taken aback for a second at seeing you suddenly, before he allowed a smile to grace his face.

the smile was probably just to be kind, but part of you wanted to believe it was genuine. while he might not be in love with you, you’d hoped he’d at least not think the worst of you.

“y/n. is everything alright? what brings you here?” his eyes continued to run over you, frowning when he stopped at your hand, “what happened to your finger?”

you were flustered when he pointed it out, surprised he even noticed. you quickly recovered and shook your head lightly, corners of your lips curling up.

“oh i had accidentally cut it when i was taking some of my jewellery off, nothing to worry about. i had honestly forgotten about it” you reassured smiling.

mingyu nodded before bringing his gaze back up to your face, “please be more careful next time. now as i asked before, if something the matter?”

you stayed silent for a few seconds, throat running dry at his intense gaze on you. you cleared your thought and swallowed, “um.. if it’s not a bother, could i ask you a few questions?” turning your eyes away from him slightly to focus on the gold doorknob with a floral pattern engraved on its sides.

“hmm, i have a few meetings with the court i attend this afternoon but i believe i’m free for the next hour or so” mingyu hummed thoughtfully, turning slightly to the side to make space for you, “please come in, take a seat”

you sat at the desk chair opposite to mingyu, the situation reminding you of when a principal would scold a student making you unconsciously tense slightly while you mentally cursed at yourself for getting nervous at the smallest of things.

mingyu must’ve noticed your tense posture and took it as a sign to instead invite you to a small round table placed by the fireplace. while you sat however mingyu busied himself with something else.

he returned with a tray carrying a teapot, two teacups, a small pot containing sugar and a small plate of small desserts. you tried reassuring him that he didn’t have to bring the tray, that he didn’t have to pour you a cup, that it was inappropriate for a prince to do such things when you could’ve but mingyu simply reassured you that this was a minuscule action.

after you had both taken a sip of the tea mingyu was the first to speak up, “do you like tea?”

his question was surprising, you thought he would’ve rushed you to ask your questions, any small talk only being a waste of his time.

regardless, you pondered his question for a few seconds before turning to look at him once again, “i don’t really particularly like or dislike it if that makes sense. my mother encouraged me to have a few cups whenever i was sick but i don’t often have it other than that. how about you, your highness?”

“for a long time i didn’t care for it much, but a friend of mine, minghao, he’s quite interested in tea ceremonies” he answered after taking a sip, “whenever we meet he often goes into detail about different tea’s and how their grown, he’s researched a lot into it”

you smiled lightly after he told you that the tea set you were using right now, a gift he’d given only recently after hearing news of the engagement.

a few minutes of silence pass before mingyu speaks up again “oh my apologies, i had forgotten you had a few questions to ask, what were they?”

you played with the ring on your finger as you murmured, “there had been a few rumours that there was a ball to be held in a week?” you took mingyu’s nod as confirmation so continued, “i was only wondering if i was to attend to?”

mingyu tilted his head and looked at you with a confused look for a few seconds. cute you thought.

“well.. of course, you’d be attending with me as my fiancé. who else would i attend with?” he still looked a little confused.

“that’s fine, thank you for letting me know. oh! and if i could ask you one more thing” again you took his nod as a sign to keep going “i understand there likely isn’t a confirmed date yet but i was wondering if you had an idea when the wedding would be?”

“i’m afraid not, the elders in the court are rushing it but it wouldn’t be very princely of me to rush you into a wedding now would it? the guilt of springing the engagement on you is eating me up as it is” he frowned slightly.

you murmured something quietly and if mingyu wasn’t so close to you he’s certain he would’ve missed it altogether, “i’m sorry, y/n, could you repeat that?”

“my apologies, i had said that if the wedding needs to be done in a hurry i really don’t mind. the marriage is for your highness’ convenience so honestly, i really don’t mind when it is. i just wanted an idea so i know when i should tell a friend of mine to take a train into town” you trailed off slightly at the end.

mingyu frowned even deeper at your sentence, he looked.. sullen? in fact it even looked like he was pouting slightly.

“i’ll be sure to let you know” he said rather hastily before grabbing a few of his things, “while i really must head off now to the meeting but you’re more than welcome to stay here if you wish”

and that was all that was said before he quickly parted ways with you, leaving you alone in the study.

you finished up your tea and started to clear up the table. after you had finished you’d decided to look around the study, after all, mingyu had given you permission to stick around.

you looked over the walls, pictures of mingyu with the royal family gracing them. there were some pictures of him and his pet puppy, some of him and his friend that you recognised as minghao, a duke of a kingdom not far from your own.

you continued looking at some more of the pictures, before you stopped at one that was more recent. it had to have been, mingyu’s hair was slightly longer from when he’d grown it out recently, not that you’d been paying attention of course.

you looked over it again, he was with a lady, you recognised her as a princess of another kingdom, it seemed like her and mingyu were close. from the story that the picture was telling you, they were quite fond of each other even.

you swallowed the bitter taste at the back of your throat. honestly, why did you care? he was a good looking guy that would very obviously have hundreds if not thousands of women pining over him, it’s no surprise he’d take a liking to one. and that one wasn’t you. it’d never be you.

you turned your heel and left before you’d allow it to hurt you even more.

you hadn’t spoken to mingyu for the rest of the week. it seemed he’d been busy with whatever the elders wanted of him. you’d been busy too, there were all sorts of responsibilities that you would have to take on when you eventually married mingyu, and you’d spent the week at ‘classes’ that taught you how to handle said responsibilities. you figured that mingyu would’ve had to attend such things too, only he’d have been forced to when he was a child.

but today you wouldn’t have to be bored out of your mind while one of mingyu’s butlers explained which was the proper fork to use. despite being a noble yourself, you were never told to go into such details, your family being content with you simply being polite and having good etiquette.

although, you would’ve much rather potentially die of boredom than do what was actually on your schedule for today. and that was meeting the tailors.

meeting the tailors also meant that you and mingyu would face each other, and you didn’t know how you could do that after seeing the pictures he had of him and that princess, because as much as you’d try convincing yourself that you knew he’d never fall for you, part of you still foolishly longed for it and craved it more than anything.

you made a turn in the hallway and finally came face to face with the door, behind it you knew were mingyu and some of the kingdom’s finest tailors and jewellers. hesitantly, you pushed yourself to know on the door, calling out too in order to alert mingyu of your presence before finally turning the knob.

mingyu smiled at you and you returned it quickly before you were being dragged away by the tailors.

you didn’t think that everything would be done so meticulously, but you were quickly shown just how serious of a matter the tailor’s considered it. first they had a team to decide which colors suited you well, also making sure that whatever color you wore went well with what mingyu would wear. then a team helped you decide what shape and design you wanted the dress to have. and then a team to take the required measurements multiple times to make sure everything was perfect. and finally there was a team to decide what jewellery you should wear. after all of your decisions were finalised the tailors told you’d both have to meet them again once the dress was sewn to ensure the dress was perfect.

by the time they left, you were so exhausted you ended up practically collapsing on the stool. mingyu chuckled at your state, striding his way over to you “if you thought that was bad you’re going to loathe the dress rehearsal”

“there’s a dress rehearsal?” you sighed exasperatedly. you shut your eyes, rubbing at your temples as you felt a migraine approaching.

“yes, darling, there is a dress rehearsal” he laughed, “usually a few days before the official ceremony. royals often do it since our weddings are always expected to be more than perfect”

although you didn’t focus on that last part. you didn’t focus on anything mingyu said after he said that one little word.

darling.

oh it felt nice to believe for a second that this was real. that this marriage wasn’t out of convenience. that mingyu had proposed to you for love and not because you were a rich noble’s daughter that he only proposed to because the elders of the court wouldn’t let him breathe.

“so there won’t be one after the dress is ready?” you peered at him.

“it’s a little different than a dress rehearsal, it’s simply a fitting. they’ll make sure that both of our garments appear well on us and don’t clash with each other” he explained to you, hand combing through his hair.

you nodded slowly and let your eyes close for a few seconds, your head was pounding and you’d decided to allow yourself to relax for a few minutes before reality would cut in.

when you awoke, you were alone.

you were still wearing your garments from last night and you don’t remember walking home last night, or even being escorted.

soon you realised you weren’t home, you were in the palace. most likely one of the many guest rooms. as for how you got there though, that you were still unsure of.

once you got up you noticed something at the dresser. a note.

good morning y/n, once you’ve finished getting ready, please be kind enough to join me in the courtyard for breakfast.

-mingyu

your heart started growing flustered at the thought of mingyu asking you to meet him. you rushed to meet him, quickly changing into the spare clothes someone had left for you by the mirror and making sure you looked presentable for mingyu.

as soon as you were happy you made your way through the palace halls, walking with joy as you thought about meeting the prince and allowed your mind to be taken over by situations you imagine yourself in with mingyu.

when you’d reached the courtyard, the first thing you saw was mingyu as he sat under a tree for some shade from the sun. when he caught sight of you, he beckoned you over with a smile.

“good morning, your highness” you said while joining him.

“and to you, y/n. did you sleep well? i’d noticed you’d drifted off so i brought you to a guest room, i really hope i didn’t impose”

you shook your head, heart warming at the thought of caring after you, “if anything, your highness, i should be the one to apologise”

“nonsense. this palace is as much yours as it is mine, in case you’ve forgotten, we are engaged to be married” he chuckled teasingly.

you’d spent that entire morning talking with mingyu, it felt nice. you’d been closer when you were younger but when mingyu was named the crown prince, you could only see each other so often. the morning with mingyu was nostalgic, but it also gave you hope and made you content with the future you would spend with him too.

mingyu eventually had to leave for another meeting and you were free to spend the day as you wished, mingyu insisting on it considering how tired yesterday had made you. he said you deserved a break.

you’d decided the best way to spend it would be heading back to town. it’d been a few days since you’ve truly done anything there, by the time you’d usually arrive home you’d be too exhausted to do anything.

upon your arrival, you’d been accompanied by a knight, you were unsure of his name but he gave you enough space. that’d been mingyu’s only rule for the day, that you were to be with a knight at all time for safety.

you looked around the town, waving and conversing with a few old friends, mainly congratulating you on the engagement, asking for any details but mainly, they were asking you about mingyu.

it was no surprise that there was a slight bitter tone whenever someone asked you about what mingyu was like, half the town probably wished they could learn what the prince was like for themselves.

by the time you finally had some time alone, well alone with just the knight, you saw a few carriages make there way into town. odd.

you looked toward the knight accompanying you, silently asking what is this to which he caught on pretty quick, “those are guests from the neighbouring kingdom. prince mingyu invited them for the ball that’s in a few days”

you nodded, slowly remembering the ball. you silently wondered if the tailors would exhaust you for hours to find a dress for that too.

you looked over at the carriages again, eyes catching sight of something, or well someone, familiar. waiting for the commotion to die down, you approached the carriages with the knight.

“seokmin?” you gasped.

“y/n!” seokmin smiled back at you, arms immediately engulfing you in a hug, “it’s been too long”

you and seokmin had grown up in town together, friends for a long time until his family decided to settle in the other kingdom. it looks like he’d finally become a knight like he’d dreamed of.

after he was given permission by the rest of the knights, he made his way with you, both of you reminiscing about memories you’d made in the town the second you saw anything.

“wow, so you’re prince mingyu’s fiancé. that’s unbelievable. but i am happy for you, he seems like a good man” seokmin smiled genuinely

“well i’d hope he’s a good man, he is the future king after all” you replied back laughing lightly, “enough about that though, look at you. a commander in the knights, that’s incredible”

the tips of your friends ears turned red as he laughed bashfully at your praise, “i suppose we’re both doing quite well then”

you continued your walk around town with seokmin, passing over a small bridge and looking over at a lake, “so seokmin, will you also be at the ball?” you turned to ask him.

“i believe so yes. mainly to accompany the princess”

ah so that was who was in the last carriage.

it was starting to get dark so you’d thought it was about time to head back. you bid farewell to seokmin and headed back to your home, heading straight to bed.

the next few days were mainly spent getting ready for the ball, except today.

today you were expected to attend a dinner with mingyu and his friends, when you had asked mingyu the occasion he explained that he enjoyed meeting with his friends regularly, and now was a good time to get you acquainted with them.

you were getting ready in the palace, the maids helping you and calming your nerves for tonight. you don’t know how mingyu was able to manage things like this since he was old enough to walk. when you were ready, mingyu arrived at your chambers to escort you to where the dinner was being held, immediately, you were greeted with the sights of all of mingyu’s friends.

you recognised a few, some of them grew up with you. some you had only met today but knew of them. and some you were seeing and hearing of for the first time today.

one person it particular caught your eye however, was the princess you’d seen from the photos in mingyu’s study.

how was she even more gorgeous in person?

she greeted you kindly and throughout the night was a delight, which made you feel even worse because how could you even dislike her? and how could you blame mingyu for falling for her?

you tried not to let your sour mood show to anyone, especially not mingyu, because you don’t know how you’d lie if he asked you what was the matter.

so you made sure for the rest of the night that you wouldn’t let any of your true feelings show, despite wanting nothing else but to cry.

you’d learnt that the princess had only arrived a few days ago for the ball, and was from the same kingdom as seokmin.

so she was the princess that seokmin would be escorting.

you’d decided to ask her about seokmin too, explaining that you were a childhood friend of his. she got excited at that, shocked at how small of a world it is.

when the dinner was finally wrapping up and guests were leaving, mingyu pulled you aside, “is everything alright? you were quite quiet the entire night”

you shook your head, blaming it simply on your nerves and apologised for potentially coming across as rude to his friends.

“nonsense. you shouldn’t apologise. i apologise for springing this dinner on you quite suddenly”

mingyu insisted on you staying the night at the palace, telling one of the maids to lead you there.

a few moments after you’d gotten ready for bed, you heard a knock on the door.

“come in” you said back, going toward the mirror, you looked to see mingyu in the reflection.

“your highness” you turned toward him, “can i help you?”

he said nothing as he took long strides to stand behind you.

he said nothing as he slowly started to take your necklace off for you, as he slowly took off the rest of your jewellery too, one by one.

when he was done he smiled at your confused look, “so you don’t hurt yourself again”

you were surprised at how he remembered and let the first genuine smile make its way onto your face that night.

today was the day of the ball. you were incredibly scared because today would be the day where everyone learnt exactly who the crown prince’s fiancé was. as of right now, you were a stranger to most of the public. your family was well known, and it wasn’t like the engagement was a secret, but majority of people didn’t know exactly who you were.

most of the day was spent getting you ready, making sure your dress was perfect along with the makeup, hair, jewellery, shoes and just everything.

you really couldn’t wait for this to be over.

you’d been to balls before so you were luckily able to skip the butlers teaching you the waltz.

before the guests had arrived, mingyu’s friends had arrived early. the princess also arrived early, along with seokmin. you smiled at him and introduced him to mingyu, smiling even wider as they started to get along.

seokmin had already left by the time you’d met mingyu for the first time, so this was the first time they’d ever met.

minghao had also arrived, greeting you with a smile and congratulating you personally on the engagement.

the guests were to start arriving soon and a maid had informed you to stay with mingyu for the time being, but when you looked around you couldn’t spot him anywhere.

you’d asked a few of his friends, even asking seokmin and minghao while apologising for interrupting their conversation.

you’d decided to check outside of the ballroom too but still couldn’t spot him. worried, you tried to think logically.

in a room with this many guards, nothing could’ve happened.

as you continued looking around you heard giggling, mingyu’s. and someone else’s. you had an idea of who but you really didn’t want to admit it.

but as much as you’d want to convince yourself, you couldn’t erase that it was reality.

you found mingyu. he was with that same princess, they were hugging, she’d kissed his cheek too. he looked at her with such a fondness that you could never deny. and who were you to get in the way of that? who were you to stand in the way of two people so clearly in love?

there was a part of the hallway that was empty that you decided to stand in for a few minutes, collecting your thoughts.

he was so cruel.

how could he be so in love with someone while he was engaged to you? how could he make you fall so hard for him while he knew he’d never feel the same?

you couldn’t take this anymore, when you heard footsteps approaching you snapped your head in the direction.

there he was, “y/n? is everything alright?”

“no. no not really” you murmured, letting out a deep breath.

he frowned slightly, coming closer to your side to rub your shoulder, “what hap-“

“i’d like to call off this engagement.” you kept your arm away from him.

“what? what on earth are you talking about?” he looked angry, but he was controlling himself, “you can’t just suddenly say that”

“i can. nobody could ever force me to marry you, your highness. and i refuse to marry someone like you” you looked at him coldly as you started to walk away.

you didn’t think mingyu would stop you and you were right, because while you walked out he didn’t make any move to stop you, to ask you anything, he didn’t even try to look upset. and that was reason enough for you to never look back.

you didn’t try going back to the palace after that, you didn’t even try finding out what happened for the rest of that night. if it was up to you, you’d forget everything about the last few weeks, he’ll even the last few years. if it was up to you, you’d never meet mingyu, you’d never fall for him either. oh how much better life would’ve been if you could simply turn back time every once in a while.

it dawned on you however how irrational you were being, guilt ate you up when you realised how your actions could jeopardise your family’s relationship with the royal family. however you couldn’t bring yourself to truly regret it. you’d rather be an outcast by your own choice than an outcast in what was supposed to become your home. and you’d loathe being an outcast in your own marriage.

for a few weeks you didn’t try meeting anyone, you hadn’t told anyone about what you did either, mingyu would likely take care of it anyway. so you allowed yourself these few weeks of peace, nobody there who you have to explain yourself to.

“you still haven’t heard anything about her?” minghao asked his friend warily, “this makes no sense. how does someone just go missing?”

missing. well if you were really missing you would’ve been found by now. and if you were really missing then an actual search party would’ve been sent, not just mingyu looking around day and night going mad trying to find any glimpse of you.

the look on your face that night broke mingyu’s heart, so how could he tell everyone the truth after that? he knew that the court would become too hasty and would cut all ties with your family immediately for apparently ‘disrespecting our monarch’. and how could he do that knowing he already hurt you enough?

mingyu was unsure what he really did, but what else could make you look at him like that? from looks of adoration to a cold, inconceivable glare. part of him hated himself for bringing you to such a state.

“how she went missing doesn’t matter. just as long as i can bring her back.. that’s all that truly matters to me” he said slowly, although he knows you weren’t in any real danger that night, he can’t help but grow paranoid at what happened to you since.

ignoring him was one thing, but ignoring your family too was another. he’d even tried asking seokmin and miyeon if they’d heard anything.

the court elders have been pestering him for days, saying that it’s no use trying to find you, that he should call off the engagement officially and just find a new suitor. but how could he when he only had eyes for you.

mingyu was seven when he’d first met you, you who shyly waved at him when your parents introduced you to him. you who at seven years old asked him if he could ride horses, and fight battles, and have his own wizard, and save princesses because that’s what the princes in your stories would do.

mingyu always enjoyed when you came over. you were the only one who was around his age. you were the only one who understood that he was a child too, he felt safe with you. he didn’t have to be the picture of perfection around you, because you wouldn’t belittle him for being a child. you’d never judge him for being himself. even when his friends would poke fun at him sometimes and he’d sulk, you’d always be there to cheer him up.

and when mingyu was eight and his hand started bleeding after he fell, you were the one who was worried for him, who ran to get him a bandage, who told him it’d be alright when he cried about how it hurts so bad. and you were the one who kissed his hand better for him and giggled when you said that usually the prince does the kissing when the girl is in pain.

and even a few months ago, when mingyu was told he’d have to marry soon, no matter how many suitors he’d meet, his mind would always be on you.

and that’s why mingyu’s whole world lit up the second you said yes when he proposed, but everything went dim the second he heard you say you’d never marry someone like him.

mingyu stood on the balcony that night, watching the views of the kingdom, it really was gorgeous. you’d have to be there somewhere. there were no carriages leaving or entering that mingyu didn’t know of, so unless you’ve managed to walk out of the town completely unnoticed, you’re somewhere there.

“you look terrible” he heard a voice behind him say.

he recognised it but couldn’t put his finger on it until he turned around, “seokmin, was it?”

seokmin nodded sending a short smile his way, he joined mingyu on the balcony, letting out a deep breath, “y/n where did you run off to?”

they both stayed quiet for a few seconds, seokmin glancing over at the other before sighing, “for the record, i really hope you’re not blaming yourself for this. because, really, it’s not your fault”

‘oh if only you knew the whole story’, mingyu thought, ‘you would’ve done something to me that would’ve had you executed in seconds’

seokmin continued looking over the city, before laughing lightly at something that caught his sight, “you see that cabin behind the bar? y/n and i used to joke that we’d settle there if we ever did anything to offend the nobles. she really used to get in trouble with them a lot back when we were children. she hated them, always having such strict rules for us. could only imagine how bad it must’ve been for you”

mingyu chuckled at that, despite being shy around him there was a reason he was able to be so carefree around you, and it was because of how much you worked your way around the strict rules laid out for you.

“she really did think highly of you, your highness. in our letters she’d mention the charming prince that was her favourite friend. i was actually quite jealous of you for stealing my spot quite frankly” the knight glared at the prince light heartedly, “i’ve wanted to fight you ever since i was ten”

the two were reminiscing about you for hours on that balcony, laughing with their new found friend.

that morning, you awoke with a headache. perhaps drinking last night wasn’t the best of ideas but it’d been the first time in weeks you’d felt anything but pain or self pity. the cabin was small, you’d stocked up on food before news of you going missing had spread, you weren’t sure what you were to do after that however. if you were lucky you’d be able to sneak around town wearing a cloak that would hide you well enough for some time. right before closing time would be ideal, there wouldn’t be many people around and it wouldn’t be considered odd for you to be walking around in a cloak.

that night, you secured the black cloth around you, basket looped around your arm before you stepped out and made your way around town.

ever since seokmin had told him about that cabin behind the bar, mingyu was sure you’d be there. he’d checked the properties he knew anyone in your family had owned, and even some that your friends’ families had owned only to come up with no luck. and as far as he knew, no recent land purchases were made.

the cabin was small, the only door being at the back, it creaked as it’d opened and when mingyu looked around all he saw was darkness, he didn’t have a candle to light the lamp either. the prince looked around for a few minutes, there weren’t many places to search and you weren’t anywhere. like that, mingyu became more hopeless. where else could you be?

he sat on the rotting floor, tears in his eyes threatening to spill as he realises he may have lost you forever.

you looked over at your basket, content with how much you were able to purchase. it was dark so even without the cloak it would’ve been hard for anyone to pinpoint who you were. opening the door to the cabin, you lit one of the freshly purchased matchsticks and use it light the lamp by the door, the room lighting up immediately.

when you looked forward the cabin was how you left it. starting to put some of your things away, you drowned out the sounds of the town at closing time, more and more patrons were heading into the pub and it tends to get noisiest around now.

one sound took you out of your daydreams however, the door opened. you quickly grabbed the cloak to wrap yourself in once again, turning around to see none other than mingyu standing there.

he looked like a mess. his eyes were bloodshot, he looked somewhat smaller than the last time you’d seen him, paler too.

you two stood staring at each other for a few seconds before mingyu came forward, eyes pleasing with you to not move away like you did last time.

“i’m so, so glad to see you” his voice cracked, “please even if you hate me, never leave like that again” he grasped your hands.

“glad to see me? wouldn’t you be more glad to see the princess?” you glared at him unimpressed.

truth be told it warmed your heart knowing mingyu genuinely cared about you, that he’d been worried about you, but you couldn’t forget the pain he’d put you in.

“the princess?” mingyu tilted his head confused, “y/n what.. what are you talking about?”

“i saw you that night. that night i left, i had tried finding you, and when i did i saw you with the princess, hugging, looking at her in a way you’d never look at me. because why would you look at me like that?” you couldn’t stop yourself from truly expressing how you feel, letting it bottle up for too long, “after all i suppose i really can’t blame you for you not loving me when i’ve- and why were you with the princess that night-“

“please allow me to explain. the princess is merely someone i’ve known since birth. and the princess is in love with minghao, i’ve been trying for years to get them acquainted and she was explaining to me that the duke had finally confessed to her”

you felt incredibly stupid, and incredibly guilty. you stayed silent for a few minutes trying to gather your words.

“my apologies, i shouldn’t have come here. i should have let you have your peace and i’ll be on my way-“

“no!” you shocked yourself with how instantly you had opposed him, “please no. mingyu- your highness. i apologise. i should have allowed you to explain, i could have avoided this. i humiliated you on account of my own insecurities, and it was childish of me to assume something”

“y/n, you can be honest with me” the prince looked at you earnestly, at that you allowed your tears to finally fall.

“it-it hurts. it’s hurts so much knowing i’d be tied to a marriage where only i was giving. and these last few weeks i’ve just been contemplating if it’s my own fault. if it’s my own fault that you’d never be able to look at me how i look at you. and it hurts knowing you’d never love me the same-“

you’d felt mingyu’s lips brush against yours slowly, for a second you’d think it wasn’t happening if it wasn’t for his hand circling your waist.

he slowly brought his lips away from you, both of you breathless, “does it still hurt?” he smiled at you.

“please, never assume that i don’t love you y/n. because i do. i truly do love you, and for the better part of my life i have. i’ve spent years dreaming of a day where i could finally have you to myself as someone i could spend years to come loving. and if i ever made you doubt that then i’m a fool, but please never blame yourself” he said gently, bringing his hand up so his knuckles could wipe at the tears spilling from your eyes, “i love you”

“i love you too” you smiled tearfully at him.

#mingyu x you #mingyu x reader #mingyu x y/n #kim mingyu x you #kim mingyu x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen x reader #seventeen angst #seventeen x you

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sunflowersandsapphires · 5 months ago

Text

A Brewing Storm

In All The World, Chapter 1.2

Series Masterlist Next Chapter

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader

summary: This series of one-shots follows Matt and the music teacher he is steadily falling for, despite her distant familial connection to The Punisher.

warnings: angsty Matthew, Matt and Frank being little shits (mostly Frank), fluff, hints at smut

w/c: 2.3k

a/n: I KNOW THIS DIDN’T WIN THE POLL BUT I WASN’T ABLE TO FINISH THE OTHER FICLET, I’M SORRY! I hope this is a decent consolation prize for you all. The comfort piece should be done by next week!

There are a few things mentioned in this chapter that I won’t go into unless people are interested but here’s the rundown: Matt and Reader started their relationship after her testimony, though the trial had not yet ended. The ABA code of ethics doesn’t really have much to say about attorneys and witnesses, but the general rule is after they’ve testified (as long as the trial isn’t discussed) they can begin a personal relationship. The ethics rules are much more concerned about lawyers and their clients than witnesses. However, Matt asked her out during proceedings so, in his head, he did something wrong. I wasn’t planning on writing their beginning, but if that’s something you all are interested in, let me know!

Trusting the men to keep their word, you left Frank standing over the door mat while you grabbed some bath towels and a jacket he'd forgotten on your couch months ago. Returning to a room frigid with their disdain for each other, you stifled an eye roll while you passed over the items in your hold. “Here. Dry off if you can. Are you hungry? I can set another place for dinner.”

Matt stiffened from his seat at the table, blowing an annoyed breath out of his nose. Smirking in satisfaction, Frank rubbed the towel over his hair, splattering your floor with leftover rain. “Sure, kid.”

Pretending not to see your boyfriend's twisted frown, you padded over to the stove to scoop the remaining noodles into a clean bowl.

“Ok, it's not much, but I wasn't planning on cooking for three–”

“How long?” Came Frank's curt question.

Running the tip of your tongue against your molars, you blew out a breath, shoving Frank's food over to him.

“Um...”

“Eight months.” Matt answered, chest puffing out ever so slightly. Swatting at him with a glare, you grimaced as Frank gnashed his teeth again.

“For fuck's sake. During the trial?”

“Well, that is how we met.” Matt snapped back, posture rounding as the Devil slipped back into control.

“And you thought what, Red? That you could treat my case like your own personal dating pool? You of all people know how dangerous that was for her.”

“I think we are all familiar with the risks taken last summer.” You retorted, taking your seat at Matt's side, letting your knee brush against his in what you hoped was a grounding touch.

What Frank was insinuating wasn't far fetched. You had run into trouble after coming forward as a character witness, but your relationship with Matt hadn't caused that, your role in the trial had. No matter how much guilt he carried over the incident, your boyfriend was in no way responsible for the actions of the Kitchen Irish. Matt regularly got stuck in his head, castigating himself for giving in to temptation. Despite making it ostentatiously clear that you were interested in him from the moment you met, your self-conscious partner was convinced he’d somehow violated an unwritten code of ethics and manipulated you into going out with him. It had taken months of promises before Matt began to believe that your consent had been honest and voluntary the whole time–his fragile acceptance would surely combust if Frank continued to cast more doubt over the dubious start of your relationship. He didn’t need anyone’s help to make him feel like a monster.

Matt nudged your knee with his in response to your touch, though his expression was stony. You could see his walls going up brick by brick, his confidence waning as someone confirmed his worst fears.

“Are 'we'? Cause I, for one, ain’t dyin’ for you to be bleedin’ out in my bathroom again.” Frank hissed, eyes still locked on Matt as he referenced your previous injuries. “You think she's safe with you? You can’t protect her. Fuck's sake, Red–you're covered in blood at her table right now. She doesn't need to be dragged into your bullshit–”

“Enough.” You snarled, cutting Frank off. Inhaling deeply, you lowered your voice and softened your tone. “Matt, can you give us a minute, love?”

Ignoring Frank's sneer at the pet name, you placed a hand over Matt's knee, rubbing circles into it with your thumb. “Can you wait for me in my room? I'll be right in.”

“I can just go home,” Matt shifted uncomfortably, looking defeated and agonized as he slowly clambered to his feet.

“I’ll only be a minute, love. Don't leave yet please.” You squeezed his hand where it hung limp by his side, hoping that his barely noticeable nod was conveying his true intentions.

You set your jaw, watching Matt stalk into the bedroom before whirling towards Frank who was leaning back in his chair, arms crossed, looking all too pleased with himself. “What the fuck is wrong with you, Frank?”

“There ain’t nothin’—”

“Nope, it's not your turn yet.” You bit out, cutting him off. “I'm not unhappy to see you, because it means you're still breathing, but you have some damn nerve coming into my house and speaking to my boyfriend as if I'm not in the room. I am not an object, nor am I anyone’s property. You do not get to dictate what is or isn't good for me, regardless of how you feel about it.“

Frank winced slightly, but he didn’t make any other indication that your words were getting through his thick skull.

Sitting back in your seat, you clasped your hands in your lap. “I appreciate you looking out for me, Frank. Lord knows you've saved my life more times than I can count, but Matt is good for me. Your views on our start and on him as a person won't change that.“

Frank scoffed, rolling his eyes to the popcorn ceiling. You grit your teeth. “Alright, if you want to be pissed, that's your prerogative. I'm sorry you didn't find out about us directly from me, but I refuse to accept full responsibility for that because you haven't responded to me for months. You don't get to just pop back into my life when it's most convenient for you.”

The towering man didn’t respond. Fine. If he wasn't in a headspace to hear what you had to say, then you were done talking. Stretching over to a nearby cabinet you pulled out a tupperware and tossed it to him. He caught it without glancing up.

“Have a good night, Frank. Text me if you ever decide you want to listen. And take that food home with you or I will be obligated to hunt you down.”

Using the seat of your chair to leverage your weight, you stood up and paced away from Frank, crossing your fingers that Matt was still in the bedroom when you reached it.

Matt’s hearing was powerful enough to register conversations a block away, let alone one room over, so ignoring the voices beyond your bedroom walls should’ve been difficult. However, Frank’s implications had worn him down, rehashing a mess of anxiety and spurning his feelings of unworthiness. If you hadn’t asked him to stay, he would’ve gone back out to find a distraction lurking in the city streets before passing out on any surface in his apartment. Instead, he lay in your bed, coiled in a ball beneath the sheets, drained of energy–feeling small and useless.

Frank apparently didn’t have much more to say because it was only minutes before he heard you approaching the closed door obscuring him. Your footfalls were light, as always. You did whatever you could to make his existence easier. It was one of the many reasons he loved you.

Your heartbeat grew stronger as you entered, leaving the door open only briefly in an effort to preserve the hideout Matt had taken shelter in. Gently crouching until you were seated on the mattress, you curled your body around Matt’s–shielding him from the abundance of sensory input and surrounding him with the subtle scent of your body wash. It was warm and sweet, comforting like the brief whiff of sugar you smell when walking past a bakery. A stark contrast to the harsh remnants of gunpowder and leather drifting in from Frank’s now abandoned seat.

“How much of that did you hear?” You asked, tracing over his prickly cheek with a finger.

“Bits and pieces.” Matt exhaled roughly. “Did you want me not to listen?”

“Sweetheart, I would never ask that of you. That’s not really something you can control when we’re twenty feet away.” Turning his head into your touch, Matt placed a gentle kiss on the pad of your finger. You took a moment to study him, heart clenching at the weary expression on his face. His posture was tight, you could tell he was holding back. “C’mere, lovely.”

At your prompting, Matt’s blank face twitched, his sorrow peeking through as he shifted on the mattress.

“I’m sorry I let him in.” You murmured, threading your fingers into Matt’s hair as he wriggled until his face was squished into your stomach. “I should’ve forced him to calm down, or take it out on me. It wasn’t fair to subject you to that.”

“I’m a big boy. I can handle it.” Matt chuckled breathily, the sound coming out choked with emotion.

“I know, handsome. But that doesn’t mean you deserve to be screamed at over a misunderstanding.” Sliding down until Matt was resting against your chest, you tucked his head under your chin, wrapping him in an embrace. He hummed against you, not trusting himself to speak on the matter.

“Matty, you do know that what he said was complete and utter horseshit, right?” Your blunt question made him snort, the noise muffled against your collarbone. “No, I’m serious. He was mad that we caught him off guard, so he said that crap to get under your skin. Classic Frank tactic. He did the same shit when we were kids.”

“Did he really?” Came Matt's amused question.

“Oh yah. He’s damn good at it too. The day I knocked him off the Dig Dug leaderboard at our local arcade, he told me I was adopted. My parents were FURIOUS to hear he’d let that cat out of the bag.” You laughed, your nose crinkling as you pictured Frank hanging his head on your family’s tattered leather couch as he got chewed out by your dad.

Matt made a mournful noise, pressing impossibly closer. Rubbing his shoulders with a flat hand, you kissed his crown. “But, the next week, he took me back to the arcade so I could show him how I did it. And when the dude running the candy counter made a sexist comment about how I shouldn’t even be there, Frank forced him to apologize.”

“What’d he do? Shoot him?” Matt asked dryly.

“Just a stern talking to. With his fists.” You joked, pinching Matt’s waist. His lips tickled your skin as he smiled.

“Moral of the story is: Frank speaks without thinking sometimes, just like the rest of us. And he tends to be protective of the people he cares about, myself included.” Sliding your hand beneath Matt’s shirt, you cradled his waist tenderly, drawing delicate patterns with your thumb. “You have that in common.”

“A talent for lashing out?” Matt quipped.

Ignoring his attempt to deflect, you continued. “You want to protect me.”

“Apparently, I’m not as good at it as I thought.” Matt remarked icily.

“Yes. You are.” You poked him, tone stern. “You protect me and the rest of Hell’s Kitchen every day, regardless of what Frank thinks. You are an amazing man and a wonderful partner, and I wouldn’t trade what we have for anything, love.”

“I love you.” Matt whispered reverently, feeling his insecurities beginning to subside. You always had that effect on him. Your melodic voice and persistently kind nature acting as a life preserver when his own mind seemed determined to drown him.

“And I love you, Matty. All of you. Always.” Cupping his chin with one hand, you drew him towards your face, pecking his lips lightly. “Why don’t I help you change out of your suit so we can shower? If I’m tired, I know you’ve gotta be wiped out.”

Smirking, Matt cocked his head at you—his confidence finally reappearing after the disaster of a night you’d had. “Are you trying to get me naked, sweetheart?”

“Desperately.” You muttered, trailing a finger over the waistband of his pants. “I have not seen nearly enough of you today.”

“It must be so difficult for you,” He lamented, flopping flat on the mattress with a sigh. “Not seeing your partner.”

Snorting out a laugh, you shoved his chest playfully. “Both of us know that is not what I meant.”

He chuckled, fingers of his left hand loosening the knot of rope around his other wrist.

“Let me,” You suggested, cradling Matt’s dominant hand with both of your own, rotating it and unwinding the cord with a gentle tug. As the dirt and blood stained material fell from Matt's arm, it revealed a crisscross pattern of reddened indents in his skin—angry from being bound by the woven line for so long. Tutting in sympathy, you bent forward, kissing the marks gently before releasing your hold.

Without speaking, you tangled your fingers around his other arm, inching one finger beneath the rope, repeating the motions until he was free of them. Trailing another line of kisses down his arm towards his palm, you smiled triumphantly.

With two fingers, you pried the hem of his shirt away from his sweaty abdomen. ”May I?”

Matt nodded, a lopsided smile hanging on his lips as he arched his back off the mattress to allow you to remove his top. Rolling the fabric up and over his head, you dragged your nails up his spine, grinning at the soft whine you got in response.

“Feel good, Matty?”

He opened his mouth to respond, but the sound dissipated into a moan when you licked a stripe over his pulse point.

“How about I mark you up this time, hm? Take care of you first for once?”

Matt rumbled beneath your lips with a small moan, his head falling back as he arched off the mattress.

Giggling, you dragged your teeth over the pulsing vein in his neck, provoking a soft mewl in the back of Matt’s throat. “C’mon, sweet boy. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Leaping from the bed, Matt flew after you, snatching you by the waist and locking your lips together as you clumsily stumbled toward the bathroom.

Taglist: @marytheweefrenchie @cheshirecat484 @siampie @xxdrixx @gracethyomen @abucketofweird @ignore-mp3 @silas-aeiou

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raainberry · 9 months ago

Text

How and When I Fell For You (This is)

« To be attracted to someone and start to love that person. »

Momo x gn!reader

Fluff

synopsis - how would a college romance start out between two equally awkward engineering student and dancer?

wordcount - 3.2K

T/W - Alcohol, Food, Drugs (mentions, allusion)

A/N - took a (long) while but im happy with how it turned out, i hope you enjoy it!

10:26pm.

Four minutes. Four more minutes of looking at that textbook, then you could leave. Question of principle, you weren’t going to finish solving that stupid problem by 10:30pm, but at least you’d have stuck to the schedule.

Hundreds of pen taps against your head, leg bouncing up and down underneath the wooden desk, your whole body itched at the mere thought of leaving this place. The party you were heading to after was much more exciting to think about than this theorem.

The chaotic and carefree atmosphere wasn’t something you particularly liked, but you needed to let your hair down every once in a while, your friends made sure of it.

10:29… 10:30pm sharp. You closed your textbook and laptop shut, shoving them into your bag in one swift motion before leaving the chair you’d been warming up for the past three hours.

Your feet felt heavy, dragging them to that party was going to be a little harder than expected. The all nighters were catching up to you, and it seemed you weren’t the only one.

The girl trailing behind you carried herself the same way. You were far enough ahead to hold the exit doors for her, which allowed you to take in her appearance. Hands in her sleeves, hood over her head as her soles barely left the ground. The sight was nothing extraordinary, it was about the same energy as any other student in that building, but something about her made it captivating enough for your eyes to stay on her longer than deemed normal.

Her eyes met yours for a split second as she walked past you, leaving behind her a small but thankful nod and a surprisingly fresh, fruity smell you’d remember for a moment.

Had you not been to that party, that scent was going to be the only thing you’d remember. The girl wasn’t going to be anything special on your mind, time would have erased the interaction faster than the beloved citrus you’d picked up from around her.

Memories and taste are weirdly linked.

That explained the gag reflex that vodka shot pulled from your throat when your friends waved one in your face. Ironic when you thought about the lack of memory triggering it: a blackout night you emerged from in an unknown living room with barely any knowledge of who you were.

That didn’t stop you from downing it with a lovely orange juice though, earning cheers from your peers. A wall crumbled around your brain, one less keeping you from normal social interactions.

Alcohol was fun for you. Alcohol made you brave. Alcohol made you friends. The lack of inhibitions was liberating at small doses. Devastating at abusive ones. Somewhere in between in moderation.

Somewhere in between… That’s where you were when the citrus scent filled your nose again. Surely you weren’t that far gone yet. This wasn’t something your brain had made up because she stood in front of you, all glamed up and beautiful.

The girl you’d held the door for. Flashes of you making way for her hours ago flooded both your minds, pulling a laugh out of you and a stare out of her.

The fact that you bumped into each other in a doorway was funny enough of an event for you to giggle before the liquid in your veins voiced your thoughts.

“Woah, it’s you!” You yelled over the music with little care for her earsdrums. The latin song was enough pressure on them, she was trying to get away from the blaring speakers while yours enjoyed it as much as the drink in your hand.

Demente. The melody kept singing, describing the way you felt when her eyes met yours and seemed to do so for the first time in her life. Life has a sense of humor.

“Oh, I held the door for you like an hour ago? At the library?” You reminded, or asked, you weren’t sure. You’d seen her already, right? You were drunk, not crazy.

Thankfully she proved you right when her gaze softened. “Right. Well… Thank you.” She mumbled because maybe that’s what you wanted out of this. She knew she hadn’t been the most polite with that nod, but it was better than nothing, which is what followed your brief conversation.

That was it.

She just pushed past you after that, and you were still too shy to follow up on anything. She was already far away by the time you even came up with an obvious “you’re welcome”.

That was your first encounter with Momo.

—

The second was a little less pathetic. Mainly because it didn’t involve you speaking nor actually interacting with her.

Your eyes were pleading for a break from the complex numbers and formulas on your screen, and found sweet relief in your bland surroundings. Beige outdated walls never looked so good until the door girl from a week prior grazed them.

Her stride was a little brighter, still visibly defeated but at least there was a sense of purpose. You wondered where she was heading, your brain too caught up in how cute she looked to make sense of the clothes she wore.

That you could only do on your third encounter: the most pathetic of them all.

Looking back, maybe it wasn’t that bad, but you sure didn’t want to ever see the face you made throughout the whole stage you saw her on.

She turned out to be part of the dance team, something your College was most famous for. The whole arts program was as prestigious as your engineering one, if not more. Aspiring artists all over the country dreamed of making it on, something only the most talented were able to make into their reality.

If you doubted that fact before (which you didn’t), seeing Momo on that stage was enough to make your mind up.

It was only a rehearsal. The very first one that took place months before the real deal, when her performance blew your mind out of the room, transcending through the sound you were supposed to monitor.

Three year-end shows in three years on this campus, you had yet to witness such talent. That wasn’t exactly what piqued your interest though. The girl on stage seemed different from the one you held the door for. Yet similar to the one who grazed the walls with purpose.

Three different versions of one person, all in a week of knowing about her existence. A smile pulled at your lips as your brain grew entertained by the situation.

How many versions were there? Which one was the real one? Were they all real?

The engineering mind is ever so curious. Hopefully you’d be able to satisfy it and see more of her.

—

“Hi.”

That’s all you managed to say to her for weeks after rehearsal. You liked to think you were doing well, earning a little more than a nod after some time: a smile.

You had yet to hear her voice. That time at the party didn’t count, you barely could make out her few words. Their number never increased. She could only return your “hi” a month later, when you caught another version of her at another party.

She was proud of this one. The entertainer. She needed a few drinks in her for it to come out, the pain in her head in the morning was never fun, but the moment was.

The lights, the eyes, the attention on her… Some kind of harmless drug she got high on and never came down from. Purely recreational.

Her heart raced yet she felt at peace. This part of her was undoubtedly hers. You had no reason to look so surprised in the crowd.

“Hi.” She finally spoke when you crossed path in a quieter part of the house. A purple lit corridor on the first floor, near a wooden and trashed staircase.

Everything short of an elegant place to meet your future lover, but quite the memory for the start of a wonderful friendship.

“How are you?”

You smiled as her voice reached your ears for the first time. It was nothing familiar, weird even as you tried to associate it with such a familiar face.

It’s harder to hear new sounds than to see new things. Yet to understand something, you need both. They’re complimentary. Maybe that’s why your mind was only satisfied whenever you spoke with her.

—

The campus library loved to put Momo in your path, and she grew to love being in the way. Glimpses of your nose burried in textbooks that you only lifted to send her a smile as she walked by. A short moment she looked forward to as days passed.

Your demeanor was everything but what she had witnessed so far. You had been the bold one until the purple corridor. A couple weeks had passed since. You’d ended up taking a walk that night, circling the house too many times to count before wrapping it up in the early spring grass of the backyard. Flowers went to sleep around you, lulled by the soft sound of your voices as you opened up to each other.

Had it been too much? Would you rather have kept things as simple and mysterious as they were? But then you wouldn’t smile at her… Why weren’t you saying hi anymore though? Did she make you nervous?

Your behavior was intriguing yet undeniably endearing. She wanted to see more of you.

“Hi.” She smiled, leaning against the sound console you were sitting at.

Another rehearsal, a routine one used to check up on the progress of the show reunited the two of you.

She came up to you first for the second time, surprising and enabling your curious self. She sounded different though. Less confident, but ever so lovely.

You couldn’t help but wonder what made the difference. You’d come up with a theory; one where the confident dancer was everything that shy student wanted to be.

Although she had nothing to be shy about in your eyes, it was funny how she was anyway. Were you the one making her shy?

“Hi. You did amazing.” You smiled back and Momo chuckled as her lips made way for a bright grin.

“Thank you. I mean, I feel like I was all over the place but I really appreciate it.” She confessed, running a hand through her hair.

“If you were, you did an amazing job at covering it.” You joked, silently referring to how charismatic she was on that stage. “So…” You trailed off, trying to navigate the slightly awkward atmosphere. “Have you been doing well?”

“I have, yeah.” She nodded. “What about you?”

“Good. I’ve been good.”

The awkward silence won very easily. You nodded a couple times and glanced over her shoulder, mind wandering in search of a way to ask her about your previous encounter.

She beat you to it.

“Uhm… I wanted to say thank you for listening to me that night.” She spoke, although hesitantly. “That was really nice of you.”

You didn’t need to be familiar with her voice to know it came from the heart. It warmed yours to think about the comfort you might have brought her.

If it were like that all the time she wouldn’t mind having you around.

So the next time you smiled at her from afar, she crossed the distance in between your feet.

Just to say hi.

You answered her every time for the next few weeks, and she smiled back at you whenever you asked about her and how well she was doing.

She nodded along whenever you vented about numbers, coding and theorems. She giggled whenever you joked around and poked fun at your surroundings or yourselves.

She tagged along when you had to make a small impromptu trip to the convenience store a month later.

She laughed for hours with you, sharing stories about herself and thanked you for the food and the joy you’d given her.

She felt she had made a true friend that evening. One she could count and rely on whenever her environment became too big of a distraction.

That evening was the first time your heart skipped a beat for her.

—

Momo was talented. There was no doubt about that, until she faced the mirror with a weakened mind.

The year end show, which served as a final exam for the dance team, was coming up quick. That meant she spent most of her time at the studio. Day and night, skipping a few classes to get a few moves down.

It was fine. You didn’t see a problem with it, until you learned a few meals were skipped too. So you made sure to bring her some food whenever she practiced late, which was nearly everyday.

The sound of her panting reached your ears as soon as you opened the door. You peeked inside, seeing she was alone tonight and stepped in just as she noticed your reflection.

Momo turned to you, the grin on her face genuine and bright as she walked to meet you halfway. She wasn’t sure of the cause behind her increasing heart rate, but she knew your arms would soothe it.

“I brought you a few things.” You smiled, and she nodded before pulling you in for hug, barely sparing a glance at the plastic bag in your hands.

The feeling of your arms around her was better than the smell of her favorite food. She had to seek it out for her own comfort and sanity.

This whole year-end show thing was slowly driving her crazy.

She had been struggling to get some details down, and you watched for weeks as she obsessed over the way her body moved.

Perfection was the standard here. She knew that as much as the next person. She never held herself up to less than that, but for some reason she couldn’t do anything right that night.

The hours she’d been putting were catching up to her, limbs failing on her more often as minutes passed by. The song mashup played over and over, keeping you from dozing off on the familiar leather couch. The food sat untouched at its foot, cold and slowly developing into a digestive threat.

The phone in your hand had long lost your attention, battery on its last leg when the percentage warning popped as a last attempt to get it back.

Your eyes stayed on her though, tired but mesmerized. You couldn’t tell what she thought was so wrong in her execution. She had performed the whole routine perfectly for the tenth time when the loop she was stuck in finally broke.

A sudden groan through her gritted teeth, her body giving out before hitting the ground, the tears in her eyes burning her cheeks red… It all startled you to your feet, running to her side as if it’d keep her from falling even lower.

Her body was fragile in your arms but her priority seemed to be hiding from you. Her hands attempted to conceal her weakness displayed by her treacherous sobs.

As much as your heart urged you to push them away, you helped her hands by looking away, but never let go of her. Your arms tightened around her, bringing her face closer to your neck.

Her tears were warm against her palms, rivaling with the warmth in her chest. The worries on her mind slowly faded, replaced with thoughts of you. Of your arms around her, of your fingers in her hair and the way your own palm rested against her ear as you held her close.

You held your breath as her every cry hit your chest. Your own attempt at soothing the pain it caused within it.

“You’ve been doing a great job, Momo. Don’t beat yourself up.” You tried to reassure her with the truth. “You’re gonna be amazing as always.”

Just in case your words weren’t enough, your hand awkwardly patted the side of her upper arm, though your soul yearned to ease hers in a more traditional manner.

Maybe later. Another time. This one wasn’t right.

—

“Oh my gosh—I did it!”

Coming from Momo, the words weren’t that surprising to hear. In fact, you expected them with a grin as you stood a few feet away from the result board.

It was all a little dramatic, you never understood why they couldn’t just send the exam results through e-mail like everyone else. Then again, this wasn’t your usual College. You were just thankful to have actually passed, happily missing out on the public display of disappointment.

“Y/n, I made it! I’m still gonna be on the team next year!” Momo squealed as she ran towards you.

Welcoming her with arms wide open was a reflex at that point, but it never meant less than the first time you’d done it. You giggled along with her as well, still unsure why but it had become a natural reaction within you.

Maybe it was the way her nose scrunched whenever she was happy. You felt a wave of joy and excitement as you realised just how often you witnessed it.

You made her happy. Or at least, she was happy around you. Maybe that’s why she trusted you enough to catch her when she threw herself in your arms, legs wrapping around your waist.

That wasn’t a habit.

That never happened before.

Yet your arms found themselves around her, holding her tight despite being frozen in place.

That was the second time your heart skipped a beat for her. The third one happened just seconds later, when you felt her lips against your cheeks.

She must be really happy, you thought. You sure were as time seemed to stretch, making her kiss linger on…

Dramatic. Maybe you belonged in this school in more ways than one.

“Sorry, I’m emotional.” She said, pulling away just enough to look at you.

Again, it was the first time she kissed you. So why did it felt like the most natural thing in the world?

“I-It’s fine.” You stuttered, all the way down to your smile.

“Are you sure? What’s that about?” She giggled, cupping your cheeks. Her fingers were soft against your skin, a new feeling that left you breathless though her voice was familiar enough to know she was teasing you about the blush on your cheeks.

“I’m hot— It’s hot.” You pointed out. It wasn’t a lie. Using it as an excuse made it one.

“It is, yeah…” She nodded. “Or am I?”

Your arms nearly gave out and dropped her. Momo felt your limbs falter around her, but it only made her laugh and tighten her own around you.

“You know, I wasn’t lying when I said I’m emotional. I’m feeling a lot of things, and a lot of them…” She trailed off, eyes stuck on yours as her heart picked up the pace once more.

There was no backing out now.

She could feel her throat dry up, her tongue knotting itself as she tried to get the words out of her heart. The air was becoming thicker by the second, making it hard to even as much as breathe them out.

“Momo, I—” You started, and it seemed that’s all she needed. The sound of your voice, of her name coming from you.

It all seemed easier now.

“A lot of them are for you.” She finally finished, eyes closed as anticipation and embarrassment suddenly hit her.

That pulled a soft chuckle out of you, which washed it all away and pulled them back to yours. Just in time to catch them slipping down to her lips.

You saw her smile, the cutest one yet before realizing she was leaning in. Apparently she didn’t need you to say anything. The way you looked and smiled at her was enough.

It had started that way after all.

#momo x reader #twice x reader #hirai momo #twice momo #momo imagines

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 1 year ago

Note

Would I be the asshole for breaking up with my partner over something my best friend told me?

Hi, I'm 20, (they/he) and have been seeing said partner, 23 (any, also I'll call them V from now on) for almost three years apparently. We met in 2020 at a BLM demonstration and quickly became friends. Back then I had been crushing on them for a while but was in a then closed relationship. My girlfriend of that time (20, she/her, let'scall her F) and I opened our relationship and around Halloween I told V. They asked if it was open sexually or also open romantically. After discussing it with F, we said romantically as well, even though I knew that I was unable to commit 100% to loving someone besides F.

Yes, I know. I should have been honest back then. And I was, in a way. I told V that I didn't think I could love them the same way I loved F. It didn't matter then. But it does now.

F broke up with me in February and since then V and I have gotten closer and gone on regular dates and stuff. I still can't love them the way I should, though. I don't know why. We send each other hearts all the time and I tell them I love them, but only in English, because the words in my native language are too heavy and more meaningful (to me at least).

Now I have thought about breaking up with V thousands of times, and always felt bad because how do I explain that even though I said it(that I loved them) I never meant it 100%?

Last week my two best friends W (20, any) and K(20, he/him) (who are dating btw) were supposed to look after my cat (3, she/her). V was there when W showed up and I explained what to do, when to feed her etc.

Now apparently, when I was gone for a hot second to take out the trash or something, V bit W. V has always been a very affectionate and touchy person which has put off both W and K before, since they barely know V and aren't that touchy even with people they know very well (like me. We've known each other for 9 years and been best friends for 8 and 6 of those respectively). So W told me they signalled that they felt uncomfortable with that but V tried to do it a second time and was only apprehended by W fleeing.

Normally, this kind of boundary violation would cause me to cut ties with someone immediately. I am not a stranger to unwanted affection and know that W feels extremely violated by this. It affected them so much they were mentally incapable to take care of my cat and in the end, V ended up looking after her. Which is why it is so hard for me to know what to do.

W is my best friend. I love them dearly and wouldn't have survived school without them. They were violated and felt so horrible and dirty they had to take a long shower to even feel like a person again.

V is my partner who keeps telling their friends and family how well things are between us. I love their mum and I know some of their friends through work and the CSD parade. I feel so guilty about sort of lying to them and saw this incident as an out of a relationship that should've provably ended months ago.

So would breaking up with them over this make me the asshole?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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mcdonaldsplayground · 2 years ago

Text

| actually the worst | bonus part

aged up ao’nung x f!reader (18+)

summary: a few years after meeting the metkayina people (and quaritch trying to kill your entire family), you finally get a chance to bring ao’nung to see your former home. however, there’s more to think about than just touring him around the forest.

includes: 18+ content (not anything actually spicy, just more suggestive), teasing, swearing, suggestive remarks, ao’nung being a cocky bastard again😮‍💨

word count: 5.4k

a/n: okay so in this universe neteyam is still alive because i simply cannot process complex emotions at this time😀 also please note that i made up the general plot here just to fit the story but obviously it’s probably gonna be very different in the next avatar films😅 ALSO, i’m so sorry to anyone who was expecting smut or like, in-depth descriptions, but this is as spicy as my writing is gonna get for now hehe. hope you enjoy this lil’ bonus part. i’m gonna get to writing some other stuff soon:)

“Okay, everyone! We’re leaving in ten minutes so if you’re not ready by then, you’re flying by yourself!” Your father called, looking frantic as he saddled up his ikran and tried to herd everyone over at the same time. Jake always went full dad-mode before these trips.

Since the battle on the ship with Quaritch a few years ago, things had finally calmed down and allowed your family the ability to travel back home to the forest and the Omatikaya clan. However, the island had become your home too, so you tried to split your time between each. As much as you loved returning to the forest, though, there was someone that you found increasingly difficult to leave behind.

Ao’nung. The most annoying person you had ever met. Also, often to your chagrin, your boyfriend. The past few years together had been whatever your guys’ version of domestic bliss was. Mostly a lot of playful teasing and sometimes borderline bullying. A lot of flirting, too. Your family and friends often called the two of you childish, but that was just your dynamic, and you loved every second of it.

Recently, though, you’d been a little disappointed. Not with Ao’nung’s treatment of you, definitely not, but with how busy he’d been with his duties. You knew it wasn’t his fault, he was the son of the Olo’eyktan, after all. It was just that between going out hunting, Olo’eyktan training, and working on completing his warrior rites, you felt as if he was becoming a stranger that you were watching from afar. You couldn’t even remember the last time the two of you had been alone.

“Hey, I’m sorry that Ao’nung can’t come, [Y/N].” Neteyam said as he packed the last of his things and strapped them to his ikran, shooting you a sympathetic look. You sighed to yourself, trying not to let your disappointment show.

“It’s no big deal,” You shrugged. “It’s not like we’re leaving forever.” It was true that you wouldn’t be gone as long as usual this time, but it was certainly long enough. Not only would you be away from Ao’nung, but you would miss the completion of his Iknimaya. He was supposed to finish up next week, which was the only reason he wouldn’t be able to come with you like you had originally planned months ago. Actually, you'd been begging him to go along with you for a while, but it had never worked out with his schedule. This time seemed to cut the deepest, though.

“You keep saying it’s not a big deal, but I don’t think you mean that,” Neteyam pushed, coming over to stand next to you. His presence was a comfort, especially because he had inadvertently become the person you always went to for relationship advice. “It’s okay not to be okay, you know.”

“Yeah, I- I know…” You trailed off, unconvincing. “I just wanted to be there when he finished his Iknimaya. He’s worked so hard, Teyam.” You bit your lip, staring hard at the ground. “And-” You cut yourself off, suddenly feeling embarrassed at your own thoughts.

“And?” Neteyam’s tone was gentle, encouraging. You sighed.

“And I just keep worrying that he’s going to get tired of me being gone all the time. Once he’s officially a warrior he gets to choose a mate. I know it’s really horrible of me to think it, but, what if he doesn’t choose me?” You involuntarily imagined coming back from the forest to find him mated to another, your heart rising to your throat.

“I hear what you’re saying, but I have to tell you that’s impossible, [Y/N]. If you could see the way Ao’nung looks at you, you would know.” Neteyam grinned as you flushed, fighting a smile of your own. Before you could say anything in response, your dad declared it was time to leave. Your heart sank back down, and you turned to mount your ikran.

“Wait! Wait up! You’re going to forget your favourite, most handsome possession!” The deep voice sent a familiar shiver of longing down your spine, though his words made you roll your eyes. There was only one man in the world who could do that to you with just a sentence.

You whipped around, wide-eyed as your big dork of a boyfriend sprinted over to your family.

“Miss me, forest girl?” He was grinning like an absolute fool as he finally came to a stop a few feet away from you, panting slightly. You were quick to hide your extreme joy with a glare, lest you show just how much power he held over your emotions.

“Aren’t you supposed to be taming a skimwing right now?” You raised an eyebrow. “You know, so you can prove that you’re a man or something?” You held back a smirk as he narrowed his eyes.

“Alright, then. If you didn’t want me to come you should have just said so.” He said, nonchalantly shrugging as he turned to go back. You knew he was goading you, but you couldn’t help it as you jumped forward, catching his wrist.

“No! Don’t.”

“Oh, so you do want me to come?” He simpered, eyes dancing with mirth. If you weren’t in front of your family you probably would have jumped his bones right there. Something about that perpetual conceited attitude did things to you.

“Can you not be a dickhead for like, one second?” You asked, eliciting a chuckle from him. That was when you noticed the tattoo.

The sweeping intricate black lines spanned a good portion of the left side of his rib cage, swooping slightly up and around the curve of his back. It was gorgeous, but the ink looked incredibly fresh, the edges of the elegant piece slightly raised. You gaped, your fingers twitching with the urge to reach out and touch it.

“What is that?” You breathed, flicking your gaze up to meet your favourite ocean blues.

“I’m surprised you don’t know what a tattoo is considering you’ve lived here for-” You glared daggers as he spoke, indicating that now was not the time for witty banter. He cracked a wide grin, holding his hands up in surrender. “Alright, geez. I wanted to surprise you.”

“Okay but-” Suddenly everything fell into place in your mind and you gasped, your eyes growing wide. “You finished your Iknimaya?”

He nodded. “Just call me the greatest warrior who’s ever lived- woah!” He laughed deeply as you barreled into him, wrapping your arms around his neck before he lifted you off the ground and spun you around.

“Ao’nung the mighty warrior.” You could barely contain your smile as you peppered a few kisses along his cheeks. “I am so proud of you!”

It wasn’t like either of you to show such blatant affection in front of others, especially your parents, but it seemed impossible not to in this moment.

“That’s why I’ve been so busy lately,” He admitted, pulling back and setting you down in front of him, maintaining a loose grip on your waist. “I had to beg my father to let me work overtime, and it was a pretty tight schedule. I technically finished yesterday, but I woke up before dawn this morning to get my tattoo done.” You could have sworn the only other time Ao’nung had smiled this big was after your very first kiss.

“Oh, Nung, I’m so happy for you! Thank you!” You leaned in to kiss him, but you were rudely interrupted by your youngest brother, who was standing a few feet away with your family.

“Oh, Ao’nung! I’m so proud of you, mighty warrior! Let’s kiss in front of everyone and waste a whole bunch of time being gross!” He mocked in a high-pitched voice, rolling his eyes. Lo’ak may have gotten older, but he still loved to make fun of you two. “I hate to break up your guys’ little love fest, but we were supposed to leave like, ten minutes ago.” He huffed. Tsireya may not have been around to chastise him, but your mother certainly was. She smacked the back of his head, glaring at the boy.

“Lo’ak! You should be happy for Ao’nung! He is a warrior of the clan now.” Neytiri turned to look at Ao’nung, smiling proudly. Ever since your parents had found out about you and him, your mother was very supportive. She’d grown to love him like a son. Your father, however, was not so fond. You and him had been through many arguments in which he claimed you needed to wait until you were old enough for a mate in order to be with Ao’nung. Even now, when this had suddenly become possible, Jake looked a little disapproving.

“My love, Lo’ak is right. We really do have to get going.” You frowned at your father’s lack of enthusiasm, but nothing could truly drag your mood down for long as you thought about finally getting to show Ao’nung your precious forest. Even the days-long ikran flight didn’t seem all that bad anymore.

After you and Ao’nung clambered onto your ikran together and took off, you sighed contentedly, leaning back into him when you had a chance to relax a bit. You could feel the low tenor of his voice through his chest as he spoke, his hands placed on your thighs as he rubbed slow circles along them with his thumbs.

“I can’t wait to see this great forest you’ve been raving about for years.” You grinned at his words, biting your lip as you fantasized about showing him every inch of your former home.

“I can’t wait to see what my grandmother thinks of you.” You snorted. The image of her scrutinizing gaze making the usually overconfident Ao’nung sweat had you giggling.

“She’ll love me. All the ladies do.” You could hear the smirk in his words.

“I hated your guts when we met.” You reminded him, hoping to humble him even just slightly. It was a futile attempt.

“And now?”

“Maybe I still do.”

“Is that so?” He bent his head down to whisper into your ear. “It’s interesting that you hate my guts but yet you love when I rearrange y-”

“If you finish that sentence I will push you off this ikran so fast, Ao’nung.” You warned, a nervous laugh threatening to escape your chest.

“You’d miss me if you did that.”

“Unlikely.”

“Oh, you'd definitely miss me."

“So what is this boy’s name, again?” Your grandmother questioned as you helped her prepare food for dinner. You couldn’t help but smile as she squinted her eyes in the direction of where your brothers and Ao’nung were talking around the fire a little ways off. You all had arrived at the forest late, so everyone was just resting for the remainder of the night. Exploring would have to wait until tomorrow.

“His name is Ao’nung, grandmother.”

“Hm. Well, he could do with an attitude adjustment. But he looks to be a strong warrior, no doubt.” She pursed her lips, still appearing to scrutinize him.

“Yes. He actually just completed his Iknimaya,” You tried your best not to sound like you were gushing over him. “He is very strong, indeed.” The image of his toned arms flashed through your mind. The way he could lift you over his shoulder and carry you. The way his muscles tensed when he gripped your hips as he kissed you. You couldn’t help but flush, shaking your head slightly to clear it. Your grandmother was staring at you, the smallest of grins tugging at the corners of her lips.

“So you are mated, then?” She questioned, and you almost choked on air. You supposed you should have expected the question sooner or later, but it still surprised you. Your heart sped up at the thought.

“Oh- well… no.” You mentally cursed yourself for stuttering.

“You sound unsure, child. Do you not want to be his mate?”

“I- It’s- Yes. Yes of course I do,” Your gaze drifted over to him, watching fondly as he laughed at something Lo’ak had said. Despite the obvious stupidity of it, you still couldn’t shake the thought of him possibly choosing someone else to be his mate. It was like some deeply hidden fear you didn’t know you had until now. “It is just a matter of whether or not he wants to be my mate too.” You finished your thought quietly, looking down at your hands in your lap.

“I would think that would be the least of your worries, my dear.” Your grandmother spoke softly, placing a gentle hand on your knee. “He may be a mighty warrior, but even I can see his weakness is you. His eyes betray him every time he looks at you.” This was the second time recently someone had told you such a thing. It made you slightly dizzy with childish giddiness, the idea of you having such an affect on the aloof and confident male.

You were unsure how to respond, but you smiled widely to yourself, a little embarrassed. Your grandmother just chuckled and turned to call everyone over to eat.

The food was almost painfully good after eating pre-prepared meals over the course of your trip. Even Tuk, normally the pickiest eater ever, was scarfing every last bit down. It also felt great to eat together with your family, just enjoying their company as you leaned into Ao’nung’s side, his free arm wrapped around your shoulders. It didn’t take too long for everyone to finish and start turning in for the night.

Your family all slept in a group of hammocks nearby one another, but Ao’nung had been given a spare hammock a little ways away in order to give him more “privacy”, as your dad said, but you figured that he just didn’t want the two of you sleeping near each other. He was very protective and hypocritical considering everything he got up to with your mother when they were young. He was also naive if he thought that sending Ao’nung off by himself was going to keep you two apart.

Once everyone seemed soundly asleep, you silently slipped out of your hammock and crept away to find Ao’nung. It wasn’t too difficult as he appeared to be struggling to lie down comfortably in his hammock. You giggled quietly, sneaking up beside the warrior.

“Do you know how stupid you look right now?” You whispered, quickly slapping your hand over Ao’nung’s mouth as he yelped. You could barely hold in your laughter. “Shut up, skxawng! You’ll wake the whole clan!”

“Very funny, you little brat.” Ao’nung’s expression was sour, especially as he continued to struggle slightly with his hammock.

“You know, I’m very good at helping people who ask.” You smirked, folding your arms across your chest as you watched him try to stop swinging from side to side.

“Fine.” He huffed, glaring up at you.

“Fine what?”

“Seriously?” Ao’nung shot you an annoyed look, but you just stood there, enjoying the power you held in this situation. When you didn’t respond, he finally huffed, resigning himself to what he knew you wanted.

“Would you please do me the favour of helping me figure this stupid thing out, your all-knowing royal highness?” The last bit was a snarky joke, one meant to annoy you, but it only made you grin.

“Why didn’t you ask sooner, Nung?” You made your way over and steadied the hammock, fingertips pushing lightly on Ao’nung’s bicep to indicate that he should move over. When he shifted, you took the chance to climb in beside him, a look of pleasant surprise overtaking his features. The hammock stilled once the two of you had found a comfortable position facing each other, close enough to breathe the same air.

“So this is what you came here for?” Ao’nung questioned, his eyebrows raising as his signature cocky smirk settled onto his lips.

“It’s like you want me to punch you.” You scoffed, tracing the familiar patterns of his skin with your finger, particularly the glowing constellation of freckles that spanned his broad chest. He shivered beneath your touch. However, when you accidentally grazed over the edges of his new tattoo, he hissed. You quickly pulled back, cringing.

“Sorry!” You apologized hurriedly, worried that you had hurt him.

“No, it’s alright. It’s just still a little sore.” He admitted, offering you a gentle smile. You returned it, but did not place your hands back where they were.

“So, you can choose a mate now.” You finally said after a few moments of silence, peering through your lashes to try and gauge his expression. This was a conversation you had been dying to have for days, but it hadn’t seemed like the right time until now. Even so, your heart began to race slightly.

“Yes.” Ao’nung’s tone was low, serious. Maybe it was because of your nerves, but you found it difficult to read his expression.

“And?” You bit your lip, waiting impatiently for him to say anything. Your irrational fears were screaming in the back of your mind.

“And?” He quirked an eyebrow. “What do you want me to say?” You heart plummeted into your abdomen, unable to stop yourself from frowning deeply as you flicked your gaze down so you could avoid eye-contact. You swallowed thickly as your throat constricted. You felt like such a baby for reacting this way, but it was like you couldn’t stop it. The next words coming out felt like someone had stuck a branding iron down your throat.

“Do you want to mate with someone else?”

“What?” Ao’nung sat up slightly in shock, confusion and worry written all over his face. “What are you taking about?”

You just shrugged, afraid you would truly start crying if you spoke or even looked up from your fidgeting fingers.

“[Y/N].” His tone was firm but soft, a plead for you to explain. You felt ridiculously stupid.

“There’s lots of beautiful women of the clan. Many who would make a great Tsahìk some day,” You managed quietly, letting out a short breath. “I don’t want to hold you back just because we have been together so long. Besides, I know what your mother thinks of me, and maybe she is right. I still act like a child sometimes. I am gone so much visiting home. And I am not-” Your voice broke, a few warm tears finally spilling over onto your cheeks. “I am not Metkayina. I am not like you.”

It was painfully silent for a few torturously long seconds. Finally, you felt Ao’nung’s fingers tilt your chin up so he could look at you. His gaze was giving you the all-too-familiar impression that he was seeing you intimately, seeing beyond just your face.

“I do not want anyone else.” He breathed, moving to cradle your face in his hands, brushing away your tears with his thumbs. “I have the most beautiful woman here in front of me. And for some reason, Eywa forbid, I think she likes me.” He grinned and you felt your heart lift.

“You might be right about that.” You said quietly, earning a low chuckle from him.

“[Y/N], I need you to know that I do not care if my mother doesn’t approve of you. The other women of the clan do not tease me. They do not make ridiculously funny faces when they’re annoyed. They do not have the courage to stand up to me and call me a jerkwad when I’m being mean.” The two of you laughed faintly at the memory of you calling him every English insult you could think of. “I love you because you do all of those things. And I love you because you are just as much Metkayina as anyone else in the clan, even though you did not grow up knowing our ways. You were not born into your place there, you earned it, and I can only hope I’ve earned even a slight chance at being worthy enough to be your mate.” You were staring hard at each other now, barely breathing as you hung on to every single word he said. You slid your hands behind his neck, tugging him closer to you, your lips ghosting over his.

“Whether I like it or not, you own my heart, Ao’nung.”

His lips crashed to meet yours with an intensity that set your heart racing. The kiss was all heat and desperation, tongues and teeth. Ao’nung bit your bottom lip, smirking when you gasped. His fingers then found your waist and he smoothly flipped your positions so that he was over top of you, groaning as you placed kisses along his neck and jaw.

“I can’t believe you were worried about me not wanting to be your mate when I’m so fucking in love with you.” He said between sloppy kisses, his hands sliding slowly up and down your thighs, positioned on either side of his body. You shuddered at the way it made your stomach tighten. “As if I would let anyone else hold my heart in their hand.” You whined as he fingered the waistband of your clothing, sucking on a sweet spot just beneath your ear.

“I can think of something else of yours that I would love to hold right about now.” Your eyes glinted as you gazed at him, a quick flash of surprise passing over his face before he broke into a smirk.

“Be my guest, love.”

The mid-afternoon sun shone brightly as you excitedly made your way up the hallelujah mountains. You and Ao’nung had spent the morning around the forest with your family, but you’d really wanted to show him some of your favourite spots by yourself, one of which you were heading to now.

"Hurry up, slow poke!" You found yourself calling out, a laugh bubbling from your chest when Ao’nung groaned behind you. You turned your head back to grin tauntingly at him.

"When you said you were going to show me your home, this is not what I pictured us doing." Ao'nung frowned, glancing warily over the side of the vine you both walked upon.

"No? What exactly were you picturing, then, Nung?" You queried and Ao'nung's lips split into what you could only describe as a suggestive grin.

"Oh, you know, maybe a little less dangerous hiking and a little more finding a secluded spot to-"

"Oh my Eywa!" You yelped, shaking your head. "Just keep walking, you sick bastard."

"Just putting ideas out there.." He chuckled, suddenly pushing forward to catch up to you. He slung his arm around your waist, pulling you into him like it was the most natural action in the world.

You leaned in closer, standing on your tiptoes to whisper into his ear. "You're so desperate, Ao'nung." He shivered.

"Only for you, forest girl." As the words left his lips, you suddenly felt as if you’d experienced this moment before, down to the exact details. You furrowed your brows, trying hard to remember why it felt so familiar.

“Oh!” You gasped out loud, nearly sending your boyfriend toppling over the side of the vine as your memory came into focus. On instinct, you reached out quickly to steady a confused looking Ao’nung.

“Are you trying to kill me, woman?” He asked incredulously, placing a hand over his heart. “What was that?”

You flushed, unsure of what to say. It was such a strange experience to have to explain.

“Um, it’s nothing.” You laughed breathily, trying to sound as casual as possible before continuing your trek up the mountains. Unfortunately, that was not satisfactory enough for him. He grabbed at your waist, pulling you back into him so you were both were facing forward, your back flush against his chest.

“Tell me.” He whispered in your ear, sending goosebumps along your skin.

“It’s weird.” You chuckled, turning your head so you could meet his eyes. They were alight with interest.

“Like you don’t already say weird things all the time?” He asked, laughing as he earned a gentle punch to the bicep. You turned fully to face him.

“Do you remember the first night we went to the cove of ancestors? The night Kiri had a seizure?” You questioned, playing with your fingers as they rested on his chest, feeling his slow breaths beneath your touch.

“Of course.” He furrowed his brows slightly, as if playing through the memory in his head. “The first time you let your guard down around me.” His lips split into a small smirk, though it was more fond than cocky.

“Yeah, whatever,” You smiled softly. “Well, before all that crazy stuff happened, I had a vision when I connected to the tree. It was- well… it was this.” You bit your lip, spreading out your hands to indicate the scene around you.

“The mountains?” He questioned, not entirely following.

“Yes. But us, too. The exact conversation we just had a few minutes ago. It felt so familiar while it was happening, but I couldn’t remember why until now.” You felt awkward explaining it to him, avoiding eye contact and instead trying to read the rest of his face.

“So you knew this was going to happen?” It was a loaded question, indicating both the general situation and your relationship as a whole. A smirk was tugging at his lips.

“Kind of…” You said slowly. “But at the time I still thought I maybe hated you, so it freaked me out. I didn’t know if it was actually going to come true or not. I was working up the courage to talk to you about it before everything went to shit.” You laughed a little, thinking back on all the chaos of those first few months living on the island.

“I want you to be my mate.” Ao’nung said suddenly, staring down at you with a rare completely serious expression. You snapped your head up quickly, confused at the sudden turn in conversation, though a flutter of excitement settled in your stomach.

“I know,” You smiled softly. “I can’t wait until we get back home-”

“No, now.” His voice was firm, his mind already made up. Your eyebrows shot skyward. “I don’t want to waste anymore time not being officially bonded. We can go tonight,. I think Eywa has given us a sign through your dream.” He grabbed your hand, gently lacing his fingers with yours.

“But- what about our parents?” You asked, trying to ignore the rising giddiness inside of you. “I mean my dad will probably burst a blood vessel in his eye. And don’t even get me started on your mom… She already has enough reason to hate me.”

“It’s not about them, my love.”

“But you are the chief’s son, Nung. There are rituals and ceremonies for you and your chosen mate-”

“Me and you.”

“Yes,” You breath hitched slightly, blushing. “Us. Your parents won’t be pleased if you do not complete them in the traditional way.” You were speaking to deaf ears, reiterating things he already knew well.

“We’ll have our own stupid rituals.” He muttered, his fingers skating along your arm, bringing them up to trace the outline of your jaw. “Ceremonies and parties and disapproving parents can wait until we return.” He searched your eyes, desperately hoping for you to be feeling the same immediacy as him. The same all-consuming desire to be one after waiting so long. Despite your feeble rationale behind why it was a terrible idea, you had to admit that you wanted to do it just as badly.

“Tonight, then.” You finally caved, an excited buzz settling under your skin. Ao’nung grinned, picking you up to swing you around before pulling you into a hug. You could feel his excitement in the air around you, making you bite your lip to keep from smiling too wide.

You woke to the sun already shining brightly, pleasantly warming your skin. A pair of strong arms were wrapped around your abdomen, your legs tangled together with two other, longer and broader ones. It could have been any other morning after sneaking out to be with Ao’nung.

It was not.

You could feel the mating bond even now as your mate lay sleeping beneath you, his soft breaths tickling your skin. Nothing about your feelings for the warrior boy had changed, you still felt the deep love that had claimed a stake on your heart years ago, but it was like it had been fortified, made immortal under the gaze of Eywa. Your soul was tied completely to his, two halves to make a entirely new whole. His eyes fluttered open as you stared at his sleeping form, admiring his peacefulness. He smiled sleepily.

“Good morning, my love.” His voice was slightly raspy from sleep, and you felt your stomach tighten, suddenly replaying every euphoric detail about the night before. You clenched your legs together, letting Ao’nung sit up and pull you into his lap while running a hand slowly up your thigh. Once you were comfortably sitting on top of him, he began to place sweet kisses along your neck.

“Ao’nung.” You tried (failed) to sound stern, placing a hand on each of his biceps in a weak attempt to stop him from caressing all along your body. “We have to go back.” Your words got lost in a moan as he nipped at your collarbone, looking up at you in a desperate sort of way. You shuddered, unable to stop yourself from dipping your head down to place a kiss on his pouted lips. He kissed back fervently, one of his hands sliding to the back of your head while the other danced along your ribcage, dangerously close to eliciting another moan from you. If you didn’t stop now, you knew you never would.

“Alright, alright. Don’t make me smack you, dipshit.” He groaned in annoyance as you pulled away, your lips already slightly swollen from the kiss.

“C’mon, [Y/N].” He whined, his ears flicking back in disappointment. “You're my mate, now. Can we not just enjoy this time?”

You chuckled, tracing your thumb over his bottom lip. “I’m sure you got more than enough enjoyment last night. Now it’s time to for us to deal with the repercussions of that.” You quickly placed one more soft kiss on his lips before sighing and untangling your limbs from his. He unhappily followed your lead, holding your hand to help you up. As the two of you slowly began your walk back home, you smiled to yourself, feeling more content than you ever had before. Even the thought of confronting both your parents seemed but a small inconvenience, an easy price to pay for the sheer elation you felt at the bond you now shared with Ao’nung.

“I still think we could have stayed longer.” He frowned, swinging your intertwined hands back and forth slightly.

“Doubtful. It’s pretty much a miracle they haven’t sent out a search party already.” You laughed, guessing it was already mid-morning. Your family had probably been awake for hours.

“What should I say to your parents?” Ao’nung questioned.

“Well, you should probably start by begging my dad for mercy,” You deadpanned. “Though I doubt that will help.”

“Thanks, I’m so glad you’re confident in me.” Ao’nung quipped back sarcastically, rolling his eyes. “I’d like to remind you that I’m a warrior now.”

You grinned. “You’re about to be a dead warrior.”

“Well, at least my last great memory is of you on your knees last night-"

You cut him off with a light punch in the gut. It was like hitting the bark of a tree, but he did you the courtesy of pretending to feel it, at least.

“Geez, someone’s touchy about that.” He smirked, amusement flickering in his gaze.

“Just save the cockiness until after we talk to my parents. I know you probably don’t know to be humble, but-”

“Oh, I’ll be humble. I’ll be even more humble than Neteyam when he gets a compliment.” He spoke of it like a challenge, and you giggled.

“Speaking of that, I forgot to mention that my brothers are probably going to kill you, too, you know. Then maybe even Kiri. You’ll be dead four times over.”

“You’re lucky you’re worth all this murder I’m about to experience.”

“Just remember that this was your idea, genius.”

“Yeah, yeah. But who’s the one who loves me too much to have said no?”

“Shut up.”

“Fine. But only if you give me a good luck kiss before we get back because I’m starting to get nervous now.”

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