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toruro · 1 year ago

Text

— ✧ flight of the stars

"It’s funny; Minghao’s whole career is about being in the driver’s seat but somehow when it comes to you, he doesn’t know when to press on the gas or hit the brake."

you go following flights to the stars, and these cars can get us home (zayn)

genre: smut (18+ / mdni), f1 au, brief high school au, angst, fluff

description: being a doctor, you think you should feel guilty when you start to enjoy the presence of a “regular” a little too much, but who can blame you for missing your patient when he's xu minghao. you know—the xu minghao: crown jewel of SECTOR Racing, top pick of the season, and possibly the one person who knows more about you than anyone else in the world.

tags: character death (not reader / hao), discussion of medical issues, descriptions of pain, pining, racer minghao, physiotherapist reader, probably inaccurate representation of physiotherapy, also featuring kwannie, sollie, cheol, wonu, & hannie

w/c: 13.3k

fic playlist

a/n: oh. always thank u to @gyuswhore for helping me w this, and special smooches to han for going over this w me too ^^

smut tags. oral (m receiving), pet names (baby)

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Cheol is going to kill Minghao when he finds out he somehow managed to screw himself over while training. Well, only if Minghao doesn’t kill himself first.

It was just supposed to be a regular session, doing some standard neck exercises with Wonwoo, his training partner. General training shit—you know, the stuff Minghao needs to do so his neck doesn’t snap in half the next time he races and then—pang! Pain flares up in his muscles when Wonwoo adjusts the controls on the harness around Minghao’s head a little harder, the latter losing his form in a moment of unexpectancy.

His hand flies up immediately Wonwoo stops, shutting off the controls and loosening the tether attached to Minghao’s harness, releasing all the tension. “Are you good?” he asks, taking a step closer as he takes in the sight of the racer.

Wonwoo’s heart sinks into his chest when he finds Minghao’s head and neck unmoving, staring straight down as his breaths begin to grow shaky, and—crap, his eyes are glossy and—oh fuck, Wonwoo might just shit his pants.

“Hao—” Wonwoo calls out again, this time his voice drenched with worry as he reaches out to try and untie the harness from around his friends head, but as his hand brushes over the back of his neck, Minghao shifts a little and that’s when Wonwoo hears it—a sharp gasp following by Minghao muttering under his breath:

“G-get the medic.”

His voice is labored and Wonwoo knows exactly what to do and nothing at the same time. His mind is racing because holy crap, SECTOR probably just lost their best racer for a few months, if not the entire racing season, and it’s all because of this stupid neck training session, and—Wonwoo stops himself from thinking about what this means for Minghao’s work and forces himself to scramble back, running out of the training room and down to the nursing hall.

Five minutes and several phone calls later, Minghao is being loaded into a stretcher. He doesn’t say a word though, doesn’t know what to say.

Five hours and even more phone calls later, Minghao is sitting up with a brace around his neck, and his manager and friends around his hospital bed (Wonwoo and Hasnsol are to his left while Seungcheol stands on his right).

“So you’re telling me I won’t be able to compete for the rest of the season?” Minghao finally scoffs out after a couple minutes’ worth of silence in tense air.

“We don’t know that yet,” Cheol responds, crossing his arms over his chest as he watches the racer carefully. Minghao’s lips are curved down in a heavy frown but his eyes remain unwavering as he finally looks up at his manager.

“Fuck,” he breaths out.

“Does it hurt a lot?” Hansol asks worriedly, and Minghao knows that his friend is only just concerned for him but all the pain and frustration is already starting to bubble up inside of him.

“Like a bitch,” he mutters bitterly.

Seungcheol sighs deeply, stepping closer to the bed. He knows the situation isn’t easy for Minghao—it isn’t easy for anyone—and he’s aware of the stakes involved for the team. “Hao, you know we’ll do anything to get you back on the track as soon as possible.”

Minghao scoffs, not meeting the eyes of his manager. “Yeah. I know.”

Wonwoo nearly flinches at the stillness of his friend’s voice. “I’m sorry,” he finally says loudly, causing the other three in the room to look at him. “I messed up with the controls—it’s my fault, and I—”

“It’s fine,” Minghao huffs, tearing his eyes away from his friend. “It was an accident.”

It’s not fine. It’s not fucking fine at all and—

Deep breaths, Minghao reminds himself, but when he actually starts to think about the ache that blooms from his neck and down his spine, it gets harder and harder to keep his cool. He feels like he’s ‘bout to pop a vein from all the blood that’s rushing through his body, the only thing snapping him out of his trance being Wonwoo’s voice.

“You’ll start seeing a physiotherapist tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Best to start the recovery process early, Minghao thinks to himself, mildly calming his irritation. He purses his lips, trying to navigate the cluster of thoughts that plague his mind until he finally musters up the courage to ask, “How long is it gonna take? T-to heal?”

His friends look at him solemnly, and Minghao feels his heart sink right down to his stomach.

“We don’t know.”

“You already sa—” Minghao stops himself from saying something he might regret. “Could I actually be out the whole season?”

There’s silence until Cheol finally decides to speak up.

“There’s a chance.”

Minghao thinks he might scream.

“Hey Seungie!” you chirp, walking into the reception of your office with a bright smile. Your best friend greets you with only an eye roll as you approach his counter at the front, peeking at him from over his monitor.

“I told you to stop calling me that in public!” he whines, nose scrunched up as you laugh at the way he’s pouting.

“No one’s even here, no one’ll hear anything,” you try to reason as he huffs and turns away, refusing to look at you.

“Still!”

You sigh, putting down a brown bag on the floor before raising your hands up in surrender. “Okay fine, I’m sorry.”

“Are you really?”

This time, you roll your eyes. “Yes … Seungie—”

“I hate you!” Seungkwan roars as you double over laughing. “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you! I’m officially disowning you as my best friend.”

You gasp, stepping back and picking up the brown bag again. “Are you kidding me? And here I thought I would’ve liked to share one of my Americanos with you but I guess not …” you sigh dramatically, starting to walk away as you lift the bag to wave it in Seungkwan’s face.

“I was just joking! Come back! How could I disown you as my best friend—c’mon, you know I was just joking,” he pleads from behind you.

You grin as you turn around and walk back to him with a grin. “You’re horribly unpersuasive. Like your acting skills are actually an abomination,” you tell him, pulling out one of the cups of the cold drink and handing it to Seungkwan. “You’re lucky I love you,” you continue, laughing a little as Seungkwan snatches the cup away hastily with a bashful “thanks” under his breath.

“Okay, well ditto to you too,” he barks back. “Who else would put up with you and your ugly crying over Taylor Swift music videos?”

“Hey! Wildest Dreams is a lyrical, musical, theatrical, melodcial masterpiece! ”

“Okay, first of all, melodical isn’t even a word, and even if it was—” Seungkwan is cut off by the ringing of the office phone line. “I probably need to answer this but we are not done with this conversation,” he shoots at you.

You giggle, waving him off and heading down one the hall to get to your office, barely catching what Seungkwan is saying, or who he’s even talking to. It vaguely crosses your mind that it’s a bit too early in the morning for your office to be getting work calls, but you brush it off as you slip past your door and into your little room.

It’s a nice little space you’ve made for yourself; your physiotherapy firm was set up a few years back, and you’d even recently gone through a certification process to belt yourself as one of SECTOR’s physiotherapists. Pretty exciting stuff when you think about it—being able to work with such top-notch racers (albeit under rather unfortunate circumstances), and you get to do what you love at the same time.

Now, you haven’t actually gotten any big-shot patients yet, and you’ve started to appreciate that more recently. It’s not as stressful, and you don’t have to navigate a possibly awkward doctor-patient relationship with someone who’s dealing with what might be a career-changing injury.

You wonder when you’ll stop forgetting that your luck ran out years ago.

Just as you set your bag down and slip into your chair to answer some emails, Seungkwan is knocking on your door and walking in. “Hey, uh, this is kinda important,” he tells you, pointing behind him at his desk where he was taking the call.

“What’s up?” you ask, slightly worried by Seungkwan’s quick change in demeanor from playful to serious.

“Some doctor at SECTOR’s facility just called and—” Crap, you know where this is going already. “—Xu Minghao just fucked up his neck. Like yesterday. And he’s getting discharged from the hospital in a few hours hopefully and they’re gonna send him over right away so you can take a look and start working with him.”

You press your lips together tightly, head going slightly dizzy at the mention of his name. Of course, when you finally got yourself licensed to practice under SECTOR, you were aware of the possibility of working with him, but this feels a little too real and a little too fast.

“You good?” Seungkwan asks, snapping you out of your haze. “Lost you for a second—it looks like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

“Sorry, just zoned out,” you laugh stiffly, turning on your computer and taking a shaky breath. “I’m a bit nervous I guess. I’ve never worked with a professional like him—at least not yet,” you continue to say, and it’s not entirely a lie.

You are nervous, and in any other situation you would try your best to just not think about the situation but given Xu Minghao is going to step into your office in a few hours, you figure you should get to work right away.

Seungkwan steps out soon, saying, “You got this. Seriously, you’ve been working so hard for so long and you finally get to work with one of the big shots!”

Chuckling at his optimism, you finally open the email application on your monitor. Your inbox is flooded with emails, most of which are a series of X-rays and MRI scans of your soon to be patient, and so taking a deep breath, you dive in.

“Hey Hannie, did you sanitize Room C?” you ask one of your (few) employees as he steps out from the supply room behind the reception.

“Shoot, was it supposed to be C? I’m sorry, I cleaned up B, but I can go to C and get it sanitized right now—” he starts to say, turning towards the supply room at the end of the hall.

“Hey wait no it’s okay, I just asked for C ‘cause it’s a bit bigger but it doesn't really matter. Don’t worry about it—have you had your lunch break yet?”

“Nah not yet, I was just about to step into that with Seungkwan, but he’s taken a moment to grab coffee from the cafe across the street.”

You chuckle, “Already? I got him an Americano only a few hours ago …”

Jeonghan laughs out loud at that, slipping off his cleaning gloves and patting his hands down on his scrubs. “You know how Seungkwan is with his Americanos.”

“Don’t remind me—he’s crazy. I don’t know how he ingests that much caffeine and still functions like a normal human being but—”

Seungkwan’s voice cuts you off. “I know you guys are talking about me but I’d suggest you take a break and go get ready because I swear I just saw a car with SECTOR’s logo on the back pull up onto the street right up front.”

Oh fuck. You’re already starting to feel awfully nervous.

“Shit, really? I didn’t think they’d be here as early as noon,” Jeonghan says quickly, tossing the gloves and turning to you for instruction. “Anything we need to do?”

“Guys, just chill,” you say casually. Ironic, you think to yourself, because you feel like your heart might pound right out of your chest any second now. “Just handle this like you would any other patient. I’ll probably have to talk to his manager, but while we’re doing that Jeonghan can take Xu into B and just ease him into things. Lay off the tension, you know? He’s probably stressed out as is.”

“Noted,” Jeonghan nods as he walks down the hall, and then you turn to the door of the reception where you see a group of three people walking up.

You try to make out their figures; that one on the left’s probably one of SECTOR’s health directors, and the one on the right is … that’s Choi Seungcheol isn’t it? The one who sent you the emails? He’s Xu Minghao’s manager, you’re pretty sure of it.

You straighten your back when the front door opens, clutching the clipboard full of prints of the scans you were sent earlier. Setting your eyes straight, you take a deep breath and finally take in the sight of the three people filling into the reception.

Yup, there’s Choi Seungcheol … and then Cho Miyeon following behind and she’s pushing a—shit, it’s Xu Minghao in all his glory.

Well, you’re not sure how wondrous he feels right now in that wheelchair, eyes cold as he stares at the floor. His neck’s held up in a thick brace that you can see reaches down under his shirt and over his shoulders; he doesn’t look up, and for a moment you’re grateful.

It puts off the question though, the words that linger in the back of your mind.

Will he recognize you? Well, more importantly …

Does he even remember you?

You rid yourself of the personal thoughts when Choi Seungcheol approaches you, holding out his hand to you. You shake it, strong and firm as he smiles awkwardly. “Nice to meet you, thanks for making time for us today.”

“No problem,” you reply with a nod as Jeonghan comes in from the hallway. “My assistant, Jeonghan here can take Mr. Xu to one of our rooms while I talk with you two about a few things. Does that work?”

“Yeah, sounds great,” Seungcheol nods, motioning Jeonghan to Minghao in his wheelchair behind him. The racer keeps his head down as Jeonghan brushes over and starts pushing him down the hall to Room B. You wonder if he’s even noticed you.

As Jeonghan goes off, you turn back to the other two still in the reception and point at your room. “Shall we?”

Once the three of you settle down, Seungcheol and Miyeon sit across from you, the former speaks up. “Thanks for seeing us on such short notice—this all happened really quick and if you can't already tell, we’re kind of desperate to get him back in the driver’s seat as soon as possible.”

“No worries, please. These kinds of situations are exactly what I’m here for,” you tell them, and they both seem to crack a small smile of relief. “Now I spoke with the doctor that examined him at the hospital, and then briefly with Ms. Cho,” you say, motioning towards the woman on your right, “And there’s a general understanding that Mr. Xu’s suffered a pretty serious strain in his neck muscles.”

“Yeah, uh—how long is this going to take to heal?” Seungcheol pops in, and you sigh.

“I can give you a range, but it’s not so definite … I’d say between three to five months,” you tell him. “But again, it’s different for every patient. Muscle strains aren’t like a clean break or fracture where we can determine almost exactly when it’ll be healed … this stuff is going to take more time and it varies from person to person as well. It all kind of depends on Mr. Xu’s body, and that’s what I’m here for—to help figure out what works for him.”

“We understand that, thank you,” Miyeon nods, sitting straighter in her seat. “How often should he be coming in?”

“Hm, I’ll give you a definite answer after checking in with him today, but to estimate, I’d say around 2-3 times a week, while also using my suggestions outside of our sessions.”

You finish the conversation with the two after that, excusing yourself as you let them back into the reception before knocking on the door to Room B. Jeonghan opens the door from the other side and quietly closes the door behind him before pushing you a little deeper into the hallway.

“He seems like, really sad, so—”

“Well, duh. It’s a serious injury,” you say with a roll of your eyes. Jeonghan clicks his lips and nudges your shoulder.

“Whatever. I’m just telling you to tread carefully,” he says as you make your way to the door. You don’t respond to Jeonghan as you slip in. Minghao’s turned away from you as he sits on his wheelchair in the middle of the room you purse your lips before taking a deep breath and nodding.

You got this. Seungkwan was right—you’ve worked too hard for too long to be rendered anxious ‘cause of a silly little overlap of your past with your patient.

“Hi Mr. Xu,” you greet, making your way to the table right by where he sits, finally seeing him up close. He doesn’t look at you. “I’m pretty sure you already have heard enough about what’s wrong with your neck right now, so let’s talk about how we can make it better, yeah?”

You hear a gruff, “Sure,” escape his lips, and you figure that given his circumstances, it’s understandable.

“The report says that when you first started feeling the pain you couldn’t move your right arm even a little without it hurting in your neck, right?” you clarify as you sit at the chair between him and your table.

“Yeah.”

“Is it better now?”

“A little. Can move my forearm but moving my shoulder still hurts.”

“Okay, this is a good sign actually—you’re getting through the initial stages of healing just like normal. The first week or so of strain like yours might be pretty painful, but it’s over quickly and the pain after that should be pretty bearable, although it’ll take more time for it to heal.” You tell him, looking away to glance at the scans.

As he stares at the ground, Minghao wants to scream. Good sign? What the fuck are you talking about—he can’t even lift his goddamn arm without it feeling like there’s daggers plunging into his neck, and you’re here sitting all calm faced, pristine, acting like this isn’t his fuckin’ career on the line. Acting like your words are gonna make a difference as long as he’s in this stupid ass brace with this stupid ass injury in this stupid ass room with—who the fuck even are you?

His head hurts, and Minghao thinks it’s partly because of his neck, but it’s mostly because he can’t stop thinking. Thinking about the worst possibilities, thinking about everything that could go wrong and—well shit, he chides himself for letting his anger get the better of himself, even if it was just in his head.

Shamefully, he presses his eyes shut and takes a deep breath before finally lifting his gaze and turning to face you. When you look up from your paper and finally turn back to him, you’re met with the sight of pretty brown eyes staring right back at you.

“I—” Minghao starts, but it sounds like the air got stuck in his throat as he finally takes in your figure, and then he purses his lips together and turns back away. “Nothing.” the possibilities of what he could have been thinking ruins your mind just a little.

You can see it in his eyes—Minghao remembers. Still, he doesn’t say anything about it, and you wonder if you prefer things to stay that way.

“What time is Xu scheduled for on Wednesdays? He’ll be coming in on Wednesdays, right?” Jeonghan asks as he steps into your office.

“Uh, he’s coming in for a session from 11-2 today—which, by the way, could you set up Room C for that? I can’t remember if I already put that on the to-do list.”

“Yeah I did it yesterday after our last patient of the day, I was just wondering. You’re gonna lead it with him this time, right?”

“Yeah, since it’s the first session. You were right about him being … apprehensive—”

“Sad,” Jeonghan corrects you. “A sad, sad boy.”

“Yeah well, go figure,” you sigh out of sympathy. “Anyways, like I said, it’s understandable for him to be frustrated, so I’ll work with him at first to ease him into things and stuff. You can start taking over more of the sessions once he warms up to the whole process, and once we figure out and set a routine.”

“Okay great. Does this mean I can go out for my lunch break at 11:30?”

“Yeah, go ahead,” you reply with a casual shrug as Jeonghan thanks you and slips away. You shift your attention back to your monitor before glancing through the initial medical reports you were sent by the hospital, and then the results of your own tests you ran during your first session with Xu Minghao.

It’s a shitty injury, you’ll have to admit. A neck strain on the muscles closest to his right shoulder, not only rendering his neck immobile for a period of time, but also hindering his abilities to move his right arm.

Must hurt like a bitch—physically and mentally—and the image of him staring down at the ground burns in the back of your mind.

With a sigh, you silently wonder if you could offer him the same solace he gave you.

Xu Minghao shows up to your office two hours later with Choi Seungcheol pushing him inside on his wheelchair, and you’re thankful to see that his stature looks much more relaxed than before. “I’ll come by at 2, right?”

“Yeah, that’ll be great. Thank you,” Jeonghan tells Mr. Choi with a smile before taking control of Minghao’s wheelchair and strolling him into the room. You’re already there and waiting for him, standing up to greet him with a smile.

“Hi Mr. Xu,” you say, thanking Jeonghan as he leaves the room and closes the door behind him.

“Morning,” he says quietly, not quite meeting your gaze. The air isn’t as thick as it was the first day, but there seems to be some invisible barrier between the two.

“How’s the pain right now, Mr. Xu?” you ask, pulling out a notepad on your computer to jot down some notes.

Your patient’s eyebrows furrow, and for a second you have a feeling this might be harder than you thought, but his next words are more comforting than anything. “Uh, can you just call me Minghao? Mr. Xu is … it’s weird.”

“Y-yeah of course, sorry about that, Minghao,” you nod with a half smile. “So could you tell me how things are feeling?”

“I guess it hurts less. I don’t really move that much so I can avoid hurting myself though—kinda in this thing most of the time anyways,” he replies gruffly, hitting the left side of the wheelchair with his palm.

“Do you stand up? Walk around at all?”

“Not often.”

“Okay so I think we’re going to try and change that soon,” you tell him. “We’ll do some mobility checks today but if it doesn’t hurt to move your shoulder a little, then I think it’s best you move as much as you can without pain. Honestly, you’re going to be injured for a while and—”

You pause when you hear Minghao inhale sharply at that, making a mental note to soften your words a little.

“—and we don’t want you to be immobile. If you can move, try to. We’ll try and get you out of the wheelchair within the next two weeks, how does that sound?”

Minghao’s ears perk up at that. “Two weeks? Only?”

You nod happily at his sudden energy and the ghost of a smile on his lips. “Yeah, you know the wheelchair is just so you don’t move your upper body too much but like I said the last time we met, the initial stages are pretty painful but once it’s over, you’ll be more mobile. Of course, you won’t be able to get back to racing and training right away, but you’ll be able to be a lot more active than you are now.”

“How long will it take before I can start training again?” Minghao asks curiously, finally looking you straight in the eye with parted lips.

The desperation is painful to watch.

“I don’t know,” you tell him honestly, watching his shoulders deflate. “At least two months.”

“Two months?”

“At the least,” you say with a held breath.

“At the most?” Minghao asks hopefully.

You purse your lips. “At the most? … A year?”

“A year? That’s more than a whole racing season!”

“Yes but neck strains are fickle and we can’t let anything go wrong, and due to the nature of your sport, you really—”

“I think I know the nature of my own sport,” Minghao scoffs, and with the way he says it, you don’t know if you should be mad or sad or disappointed or a mix of all three.

“I—” you pause, “I understand your frustration Mr.—Minghao, but my job is to make sure you’re one hundred percent healed before you set foot on the track again, so please be patient and allow yourself to heal.”

Something about those last few words rings in Minghao’s ears, and he zones out for the rest of what you’re saying.

Allow yourself to heal. Fuck.

Minghao stays pretty much silent for the rest of the session, and you’re not quite sure if it’s out of complacency or indifference. You go through some slow mobility exercises, and figure out a good range for him to stay in for the next few days.

“Make sure you practice those movements every day,” you note once you near the end of today’s session. “I’ll send you an email listing all of them with instructions so you remember. Please try and do them every day, and it’ll hopefully speed up the recovery process.”

“Thanks,” Minghao murmurs as he carefully sits back down in his wheelchair.

“Is there anything else you’re doing in your free time right now?” you ask, trying to make casual conversation as you start to type up your list.

“Not really. I watch practice videos and stuff, I guess.”

You hum, not really responding until you finally finish the list and send it to his email. “I sent the list, you should start using it tomorrow. Anyways, I think you should try crocheting,” you tell him casually.

Minghao gives you a sideways glance as he raises an eyebrow. “… Crocheting?”

“Yeah,” you say with a shrug, finally turning around to face. “You know, with yarn and stuff.”

“I know what crocheting is.”

“I-I know,” you say awkwardly, slightly thrown off your game by his bluntness. “You won’t have to move your shoulders, only your forearms, so it’s fine.”

“But why?”

“It’s fun. And a nice way to pass time, especially when you can’t move around a lot. Plus, it’s always good to have something to distract yourself from—” You pause, thinking about how to finish your sentence. “—from shitty stuff, y’know?”

Minghao chuckles, and your heart swells a little when you finally see him break a smile. “Yeah, I guess.” There’s a long pause. “Shitty stuff, huh?”

You laugh, nodding. “Yeah. Shitty stuff.”

“You and your stupid Americanos,” you sigh, watching Seungwkan grin as the barista hands him his drink.

“Stop acting like you don’t indulge in me too. Getting me all those Americanos in the morning … I should blame you for this addiction!”

“So you admit it’s an addiction!” you exclaim triumphantly, waving your hands in the air. Seungkwan rolls his eyes, leaving you to sit at a table in one of the corners of the cafe. Laughing at his silent admission of defeat, you wait for your drink patiently.

It’s only a few more moments before the barista is back at the counter, calling out, “Honey lavender latte!” With a smile, you walk over, about to reach for the drink before a hand beats you to it.

Frowning, you look up at the man who’s holding your drink before you say, “Hey, I’m sorry, I think that’s my drink.”

“Uh, honey lavender latte? I’m pretty sure I ordered this,” he says. You look at him with a funny expression on your face, eyes darting between the drink you ordered and the drink that’s in his other hand. He catches your suspicion and shakes his head quickly. “It’s for my friend, I ordered for the both of us so I could get us a spot.”

“Oh,” you breath out, figuring that it probably isn’t a lie. “S-sorry for the misunderstanding. I just—” you chuckle, watching some of the tension from the man’s shoulders wither away. “I ordered the same thing—”

“Oh sorry, I—my friend isn’t here yet so you can just take this and I’ll wait for the other to come out,” he offers, watching your face, and you see something in his expression change. “Hey wait, you look really familiar,” he murmurs.

Your eyebrows furrow as you silently thank him when he hands you the drink. “Uh, are you sure? I’m sorry, I just—I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before,” you admit with an awkward chuckle.

The man shakes his head and laughs quietly to myself. “No, I swear I’ve seen you somewhere, but I’m just blanking on it right now—sorry this is probably so weird but—” The bell of the front door rings and he shoots his head to see who’s coming in, eyes lighting up. “Oh hey, Hao! Was just waiting for you!”

Hao? Mingh—

You lock eyes as soon as he walks in.

The man from before beams as he walks up to him as your eyes finally break away, and Minghao turns to his friend. “Hansol,” he greets with a small smile, and it’s a pleasant sight to see your patient—who’s more often monotone than not—seem a bit more at ease than before.

“How’re you doing? Was just waiting on your drink and—” the man—Hansol—points at you with eyes as wide as saucers, “—oh by the way, doesn’t she look really familiar?”

You chuckle nervously, breaking out an awkward smile and waving at Minghao who returns you by raising his left arm in a sort of half-wave before turning his attention to Hansol to give him a blank stare. “Yeah, she’s kinda like my physiotherapist dude.”

This time, you chuckle a bit more genuinely, eyes darting between the amused smirk that’s just barely there on Minghao’s lips, and Hansol’s agape stare.

“Ohh shit, yeah that’s where I saw you! Cheol and Miyeon were talking about you when they were booking you for Hao at the hospital, and I saw your picture on the screen,” Vernon explains as the realization hits him.

“Oh,” you laugh lightly. “That’s funny,” you reply as you turn your attention to Minghao, “Good to see you’re getting out of that wheelchair. I bet it feels nice to finally stretch your legs and stuff,” you say. If Minghao could move his neck without eruptions of pain, he’d nod his head.

For now though, he settles on smiling and saying, “Yeah, it’s refreshing.” His eyes wander around you, taking in how you aren’t dressed in your usual work attire, but rather clad in a cute outfit. “Is that my drink?” he asks, eyebrows furrowed as he points at the coffee you’ve just taken a sip of.

Hansol laughs and shakes his head. “You two got the same drink so when it came out, I just let ‘er have it, since you weren’t here yet.” He glances around before putting his drink down at a nearby table. “Shit, I think I left my laptop in my car,” he murmurs, looking at his friend. ��I’m gonna go get it so I can show you those videos I was talking about.”

“Yeah, that’s chill,” Minghao agrees. Hansol smiles at you and then his friend before quickly retreating from the cafe to get to the parking lot, leaving you and the tall man standing in silence. It’s a few passing moments where you awkwardly sip on your drink before something pops in your mind.

“Hey, it’s actually really funny that you’re seeing me right now because—well it’s not funny funny, but it’s a nice coincidence so I guess that counts as funny but—anyways, look, I crocheted this cardigan.” You smile, lifting your arms a little so he can see the dark, navy blue fabric you made yourself, before turning around to show off the light blue, striped pattern on the back. “Cool, right?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty. Nice color scheme and all,” Minghao agrees.

“Thanks. Have you started crocheting? I can send you some videos to get you started,” you offer. Just as Minghao is about to reply, the barista from behind you calls out another order of your drink, causing both of you to glance back. “Oh, you wait there; I’ll get it,” you say, putting your drink down on the same table Hansol did before walking over to grab Minghao’s drink and hand it back to his left hand.

“Thank you, you didn’t have to,” he says as your fingers brush over each other before falling back to your side. “Isn’t your friend waiting for you?”

“Of course I have to. I’m your doctor! I can’t make you do that,” you reason before pointing back at your best friend. “And are you talking about Seungkwan? Looks like he’s having the time of his life doing—” You turn your head around to glance at him before looking back at Minghao, “—doing god knows what on his phone and—”

“Are you talking about me?” you hear Seungkwan’s voice calling from a few meters away, and the way you cringe has Minghao stifling a giggle. “All good things I hope!” he continues.

“You know it!” you shoot back sarcastically, only to be followed by Seungkwan’s rolling eyes. “That little shit. I pay his bills!” you exclaim, a faux frown making its way onto your face.

Minghao laughs, his head throwing back a little. The small movement flares up a bite of pain in his neck, causing his breath to get stuck in his throat, eyes widening as he slowly shifts back into a comfortable position.

“Sorry,” you murmur sheepishly.

If Minghao could shrug without feeling like his neck would snap in half, he would. Instead, he raises his eyebrow playfully when he says, “Are you seriously apologizing for being funny?”

You roll your eyes. “I’m retracting my apology.”

It’s been around three weeks since you started working with Minghao. He’s warmed up to you a fair amount, and ever since you saw him at the cafe, the air around you two has been lighter.

It’s still a bit awkward at times—skitting around the moments where you wonder if you should say something about the elephant in the room before shaking your head and biting your tongue. Then again, given how often you see Minghao, you’ve gotten used to it.

Seungkwan stops by your office this morning when he walks into work. “Morning,” he greets, dropping a small brown bag by your desk as you file through some papers.

“Ooh, thank you,” you tell him gleefully, taking a break from your task to glance at the chocolate muffin that sits inside of the bag. “I’ve been craving this,” you admit, reaching in and picking out a small piece to stuff into your mouth.

“Your welcome,” Seungkwan sighs, sitting down on the seat in front of you. “Anyways, I found something cool that I don’t think you told me.”

You raise your eyebrows at him skeptically. “Yeah? What is it?”

“You and Xu Minghao are from the same hometown!”

You roll your eyes. “Why do you still keep calling him Xu Minghao? He’s told us to just say Minghao, and even if he didn’t, it’s awkward when you say his full name like that.”

Seungkwan scoffs at you, reaching his hand over to try and flick your forehead but you dodge. “Because he’s Xu Minghao. I can’t believe you aren’t still jumping up and down for getting to work with him, seeing how much you love SECTOR.”

“You want me to be happy that the best racer from my favorite team is injured?”

“Ugh, you know I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Whatever,” you shrug, a small hint of a smile peeking from your lips.

“Anyways, you didn’t answer what I actually said. Why didn’t you tell me you guys are from the same area? That’s so cool!”

“I mean I guess,” you say with a shrug.

“And you guys are the same age so—wait, did you go to school together? Oh my god, are you guys like—I don’t know, long lost best friends or something?” Seungkwan’s eyes widen. “Oh, that’d be so cool—I could totally see a movie on this and—wait! If he’s your long lost best friend, where does that leave me? You better not replace me with him!”

You laugh at the progression of his thoughts, almost choking on your second bite of the muffin. “We did go to school together,” you admit. “It’s not like we crossed paths though. He kinda just, I don’t know, existed back then. So no worries for you, you’re not getting replaced any time soon … unfortunately,” you add with mischievous giggle.

“Better not …” Seungkwan huffs.

Minghao comes in a few hours later for his afternoon session. Jeonghan works with him for the first two of the three hours, and you walk in for the last hour. You go over some more mobility exercises, before finally sitting down so you can discuss his progress.

“So things are going really well,” you start to tell him, beginning to list off a couple signs of development which stood out to you. You’re about to commend him on keeping up the exercises everyday, when you notice him staring at the floor with a blank expression. “H-hey, Minghao?” you ask, clearing your voice when he doesn’t respond. “Minghao.”

His eyes shoot up to yours, shoulders tensing for a second before he lets out a deep breath. “Sorry, zoned out for a second.”

You chuckle nervously, wondering if it’s okay if you probe just a little. “You good?”

“Yeah,” Minghao replies casually, but you catch the way he doesn’t meet your gaze. “Just thinking about last night’s race.”

“Oh, Singapore?”

“Yeah.”

“I was able to catch a bit of it last night, but I passed out. It seemed intense though—you see Kim’s pit stop?”

“Yeah, it was kinda insane,” Minghao says breathily. His expression is unreadable, but he’s continuing to respond and so you choose to let things go on naturally. “He’s been living up to his talent now that his shitbox is back to what it’s supposed to be.”

“Can’t imagine how frustrating it is.” Fuck, when Minghao’s shoulders drop, it feels like you said something you probably shouldn’t have.

I can imagine, Minghao thinks after hearing your response, but he bites back the words. “Yeah,” he says dejectedly instead.

Silence. This seems like a good chance to change the topic.

“Uh—” Sorry, you want to say, but you choose to hold your breath instead. “I have good news.”

“Oh?”

“We can get you out of the neck brace today,” you tell him happily.

Minghao’s eyes light up. “Really?”

“Yeah, your progress has been great. Didn’t want to tell you earlier to get your hopes up, in case something went wrong, but everything has been looking really good and you’re at the point where we usually take any supports like braces off.”

Minghao grins, and it’s a stark contrast from the grim shadow cast on his face just moments earlier. You take a few moments to go over the procedures with him, helping him out of the foamy, firm brace with gentle hands and watchful eyes.

“How’s it feeling?” you ask, setting the brace down by one of your counters so you can dispose of it later.

Minghao lets out a low groan of what you can only assume is relief when he looks up. “Like my skin can finally breathe,” he sighs heavily, a bright smile taking over his features as you turn to face him.

“I’m happy for you,” you tell him, before beginning a quick examination process of the area under the brace and going through some quick motions.

“All done?” he asks. When you nod, he continues. “Kinda early, huh?” he say pointendly, and you both quickly glance at the clock on the wall: his session is supposed to end in 43 minutes.

“Oh yeah, uh—actually … I was wondering if you wanted to try something?” you ask tentatively, and Minghao senses your hesitation. “If you have the time.”

Raising a brow, he nods. “Yeah I don’t mind, what is it?”

“One second,” you tell him, getting up and leaving the room to grab something from your office. Shyly, you walk back in and to your seat, all while holding up a brown bag. “Just some old crocheting supplies I thought you might like,” you murmur, placing it down on the counter.

Minghao presses his lips together tightly, not expecting your words. “Oh, uh—I haven’t really … I haven’t taken up crocheting yet. Sorry, uh—”

“Oh yeah,” you say quickly, holding a hand up, using the other to show him the contents of the bag. There’s some balls of yarn and hooks in a little mess, and you reach in to take some out. “I figured—it’s pretty intimidating to take up by yourself but,” you sigh. “I think it’ll be really nice for you. I recommend it to a lot of my patients who can’t do their regular activities and hobbies … and now given your brace is off, your vision will have more range and it might be really fun for you. No pressure if you don’t like it, but I thought it wouldn’t hurt to show you the ropes,” you admit, holding up a ball of blue yarn.

Catching onto your pun, Minghao chuckles and replies, “Sure, why not.”

“Okay great,” you say excitedly, dropping the bag and pulling your chair up in front of him and next to the table, pulling the supplies out.

Minghao is patient as you show off the different yarns and hooks, explaining the very basics in great detail. You can’t quite tell if he’s being so obedient out of genuine interest, pity, or simply polite compliance, but for whatever reason, you’re thankful. Soon, you’re showing him how you do it yourself before handing him one of your spare hooks and the ball of yarn, letting Minghao test the waters for himself.

“Yeah, just do that and—wait,” you mutter, reaching over to adjust the way he’s holding the hook. Your soft fingers gingerly brush over his knuckles, and Minghao finds himself getting lost for a moment. As you innocently fix the position of his fingers, his stomach churns in a manner he can’t quite name. “You got that?” you ask him suddenly, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“Sorry, zoned out again. What was that?”

“Singapore really got you thinking, huh?” you muse before shaking your head and laughing it off.

“Sorry, I—”

“Don’t worry about it. Here, I was just saying you should position your thumb like this or else you might start to cramp up really fast. Happens to me like crazy but I didn’t fix my habit and now I just gotta crochet through the pain.”

Minghao looks at you with an odd expression. “Crochet … through … the pain?”

“That sounded cooler in my head, my bad.”

Minghao laughs. It’s not a tight chuckle, or a soft giggle, it’s a laugh. And it’s bright and full and tugging at your heartstrings in a way you’d rather ignore. “It’s okay.”

“Anyways … here, I’ll show you how to start off with a slip knot and then we’ll take things from there,” you instruct.

Slowly, you walk him through the steps. You learn that Minghao is a good learner. He’s intuitive, but it’s not that you expect much different—you figure no one can get to the level he’s at without being quick to pick up on things.

You’re soon showing him how to start a simple chain, the yarn and hook still in his hands as you work him through the process. “Yeah, now you just gotta yarn over like this—no, the other way, just like that … and—yeah … yeah!” you exclaim excitedly when Minghao slips the hook right through, lengthening the chain. “You got it!”

“Really?” Minghao asks. “Simpler than I thought,” he admits aloud, and you nod vigorously.

“Yeah … crocheting looks hard from afar but once you actually get the hang of it, it’s as easy as breathing,” you explain, softly taking the yarn and hook from his hands and showing how it looks once you build in more loops.

He watches you carefully—the way your fingers so gently, with such precision; how your eyebrows furrow ever so slightly as you focus in on the task at hand, tongue unconsciously sticking out from the corner of your mouth, and—

“You’re really good at this,” Minghao murmurs quietly, and you swear he’s so close, his warm breath fans down on your cheeks. You gulp, pausing what you’re doing to look up at him.

“My mother taught me. It’s been a casual hobby ever since.”

You feel Minghao’s eyes bore down on yours intensely, wondering if he’ll respond. Something is screaming at you to pray he’ll keep his mouth shut.

Minghao doesn’t say a word, thankfully. Still, the possibilities of what could be running through his mind haunt you.

You think you should start feeling guilty. You think you should already be feeling guilty when you start to look forward to seeing Minghao. He’s your patient for fuck’s sake—you should be happy he’s not holed up in here everyday.

Still, there’s a weird feeling that festers in your chest when you think about him.

Minghao, and the way he’s so persistent, so patient, so attentive with all the exercises and information you tell him. Minghao, and the polite smile he throws your way at the beginning of each session. Minghao, and the way his eyes light up.

“We’re going to try some new mobility exercises today,” you tell him today with a grin, standing up from your seat. Minghao’s ears perk up as he catches the bright look on your face, and something inside of him swells with hope.

“Really?”

You smile and nod in return. “Yeah! I mean your recovery has been really great so far and I think this is a good point to move on and see if we can test out an even wider range of motion.” Minghao doesn’t really say anything in response, but the way his eyes light up when he watches you explain the exercises tells you enough.

In the hour that follows, you two walk through the exercises, trying out each one, and you’re almost three quarters through all the motions you planned today right before you show him how to angle his shoulder before a new exercise.

“How are things feeling? Anything hurting? Anywhere?” you ask anxiously as Minghao comes out of the last stretch you showed him with a pleasant look on his face.

“No, not like pain pain,” he says casually, leaning back into the chair. “Not the kinda pain from the strain, but I feel a bit of tension on my shoulder from keeping it in that position for too long.”

“Okay great,” you say, typing it down onto your digital notepad. “We’ll try and switch up that one next time so your body is completely relaxed from now on.”

“Thanks. What’s the next exercise?” Minghao asks curiously upon taking in the information. You vaguely think to yourself about how you enjoy his growing warmness—he’s been a lot more positive these past sessions with his rapid progress, and it’s bringing a much lighter atmosphere to Room C.

You explain the movement to him, explaining to him how to lift his shoulders just enough to circle them backwards without too much movement. It’s going pretty smoothly like the other exercises; you explain, Minghao listens, you adjust, Minghao lets you.

Right now you’re about to lean in, hands brushing over his shoulder blade to guide them to a more steep angle, explaining to Minghao how to fix his posture. Your fingers brush over his collarbone and jaw a few times in the process, your eyes keeping steady on making sure he doesn’t make any abrasive movements.

“There we go,” you tell him after showing him how to do the circular movement with his shoulders. “Why don’t you try it by yourself?”

Shooting you a thumbs up, Minghao complies, lifting his shoulder forward first slowly. He’s going through the motions of everything pretty normally—after all this is just like any other exercise so he doesn’t really worry that much until—fuck.

Holy shit, that quick but sharp pain stings so bad.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” you ask worriedly when Minghao stills, his eyes widening.

So much. So fucking much, Minghao thinks to himself.

“Talk to me,” you say, moving closer to him so you can move your hands over his shoulder and lead them back down to a natural position.

“It h-hurt for a second. Really bad, but then it was gone,” Minghao says breathily. You purse your lips together and Minghao feels his heart sink to his chest when you turn around and type some stuff he can’t read from where he sits. “Is this like—” He needs to pause to collect himself so the nerves don’t get to him. “—is it bad?” When you hesitate to respond, Minghao already knows his answer. “Fuck.”

“Look, it’s just hurting in that spot for this exercise. The rest of your progress is amazing, but we’re just going to need to take it slower since you’ve probably just overexerted the muscle a little bit.”

“So I’ve been set back, basically,” Minghao says bluntly, his tone doing a full 180 from just a few moments earlier.

“Not a setback …” you sigh. “Just a sign that we need to go slower right now.” You watch him worriedly when he presses his lips together and doesn’t meet your gaze.

“So a setback.”

You gulp. “You can’t think of this like that. I told you from the start that progress is never linear and—”

“I don’t give a fuck, okay?” Minghao breaths out, and something about the way he says it with such a curt, tense tone almost makes you lose your composure. “This is—fuck, this my career okay? I can’t afford any setbacks.”

“I know that and that’s why I’m your doctor, okay?” you say, a bit more harshly than you intended.

You don’t understand why you’re letting his hostility get to your head all of sudden—it isn’t like you haven’t had frustrated patients before. Fuck, you’ve had people cry, sob, break down in this same room over slow progress but something about the way he looks so disheartened has your heart clenching.

“I’m here to help you,” you reiterate, your tone more composed than before. “But I can only do that if you let me.”

Minghao eyes flicker between your wide eyes and his hands in his lap. There’s a growing knot that ties in his throat, and he’s too afraid to open his mouth to speak, too afraid of what he might say. Instead, he just huffs and stands up.

“Sorry,” he finally musters up, eyes trained on the ground as you watch him carefully for his next move. “I’m leaving.”

You don’t stop him as he walks away.

When Minghao walks into the reception a few days later, he’s not surprised to see that you aren’t the one greeting him. He thinks back to the way your lips were pressed into a tight line when he walked out last week. It was the last time he’d seen you in the past few days, and some weird mix of worry swirls in his stomach.

Were you avoiding him? He wouldn’t blame you if you were, but he feels guilty for thinking that way. You wouldn’t let something personal get in the way of your work, Minghao knows that for sure.

Still, he bites his tongue when he briefly considers asking Jeonghan where you are. Would that be overstepping? It’s not like there haven’t been sessions where you weren’t there, but something about the thickness in the air around him tells Minghao that there’s something he should be worried about.

As if he could read Minghao’s mind, Jeonghan speaks up. “Doc’ll come in around the end. It’s her mom’s birthday so she’s out for most of the afternoon, but she’ll be back for the last half an hour,” he says casually, not really expecting to turn around to see Minghao looking at him with wide eyes and parted lips.

“H-her—” Her mom? Minghao wants to ask but something stops him from saying it. Maybe it’s the fact that you’re not here. Something feels wrong. “That’s fine,” he mutters, pursing his lips before looking at the ground.

He can feel Jeonghan’s curious gaze burning into the back of his skull, but Minghao only doesn’t move as he keeps quiet. They soon fall into the regular pattern of starting off with mobility exercises before doing a check of his range of movement.

It’s nearing the final hour of his session when Jeonghan excuses himself for a moment. Only two minutes passes before there’s a knock at the door, and then some footsteps leading in.

“Good afternoon Minghao,” you greet softly upon walking in. The man glances up at you, eyes widening when he takes in your figure.

“Oh—uh, hey.”

Minghao wants to bash his head into the wall. Hey? Seriously? That’s all he could muster up? Hey?

“Jeonghan gave me the rundown,” you tell him, looking away as you lift a clipboard and squint to read the tiny text. “No more sharp pains … returning mobilily …”

You hum slowly as you read off the notes your assistant left for you, not meeting Minghao’s gaze. He wonders if that’s what you intended. “Seeing as things are going smoothly for now, we’ll continue with the low-risk exercises and—”

“I’m sorry,” Minghao blurts out. He wonders what compels him to do it, but when you finally meet his gaze, he realizes that he just wanted you to look at him.

“Mi—”

“I’m sorry for how I acted last time. I shouldn’t have said that stuff to you. I was frustrated and took it out on you, and that wasn’t okay. I’m sorry.”

Your lips are pursed by the time Minghao is finished. He’s said enough, but when he peers up at you, his eyes speak a story of their own.

“It’s okay,” you respond with no hesitation, before turning back to your clipboard, scanning over it a few more times and then setting it down.

You smooth your hands over your lab coat, and for a moment Minghao wonders what it would feel like to have your palms run down his neck, pressing into his skin so gently yet with such fervor, fingertips ghosting over—

Minghao shouldn’t think like this.

“Jeonghan told me that it’s your mom’s birthday,” he finally breaks the silence. It’s the first time either of you have actually brought it up, and the reality of it all—fuck, it’s hitting you so hard that there’s already tears pooling in yout lashline.

You silently curse yourself for forgetting to tell Jeonghan not to tell Minghao anything. It’s okay, it isn’t like he knew any better, you tell yourself as you blink rapidly, trying to shoo away the tears.

“Mhm,” you hum, hoping he doesn’t probe any deeper. You aren’t sure what you should say.

You’re silent, and Minghao itches to reach forward, to rest his hand on your shoulder, to smile at you, to say all the things he’s been thinking about you but he just can’t. All he can manage is to clear his throat, causing you to look up at him expectantly.

Fuck, what should he say? “I’m um—I’m glad. Glad that she’s uh—that everything worked out.” That’s fine, right? There’s nothing wrong with that statement, Minghao’s almost sure of it so … so why in the world are you crying?

Shoot, did he fuck up? You’re sitting in the chair right next to him, head in your hands as you cover your face and turn away; your cries are soft but just loud enough for Minghao to hear over the rush in his ears, just loud enough for him to feel the ache, just loud enough for him to get the message.

Oh.

The first time you meet Xu Minghao, you’re in middle school. Seventh grade and walking into Algebra, going to sit down on your regular seat. Five minutes into class and a new boy walks into the room, handing your teacher a slip before being directed to sit down at a spot a few tables over.

He’s got short, dark hair, cat-like eyes, and a bit of tall, lanky figure as he slinks down into the chair. Your teacher claps her hands together and announces that there’s a new student in class. His name’s “Xu Minghao,” she said.

You don’t really remember his name at first. It isn’t uncommon for there to be new students on campus. He’s not in many of your other classes you realize as the day goes on, and so he slips your mind. Maybe you work with him for a few assignments throughout the year, but not enough for you to wave at each other when you pass the other in the hallways.

Five years later and you’re in your final year of high school. Time has passed, you have changed, Xu Minghao has changed, but what remains the same is what you are to each other. Strangers.

You’re paired with a stranger for your final senior Literature project.

“Do you want to write a paper, or do the poster?” you ask as he sits down next to you once the pairing assignments. Your teacher had given you two options on how to go about the project. “I don’t really mind either or,” you admit.

Minghao hums, setting his copy of Macbeth on the table before turning to you. “Poster? I think I’ve done enough writing in this past year to last me a lifetime,” he tells you with an obvious sigh.

“Yeah,” you laugh. “Were you in Biology?”

He nods. “Regretfully.”

“Oh so you also had to write that whole research paper. Damn, that thing had to have shaved at least ten years off my life.”

“Ditto,” Minghao grumbles, running his hands over his face. “Oh god, just thinking about it is making me queasy. I’m so happy we’re in our final semester.”

“So we agree on no paper, just the poster?” you finalize.

Minghao agrees, “Yeah, that’s great.”

One week later and Minghao is at your doorstep. “Cool set up,” he notes, stepping into your room, looking down at the poster splayed out with markers all over.

You grin. “Thanks—I kind of like being artsy and stuff sometimes so I was pretty happy to do this when you said you also wanted to do the poster.”

“Seems like I made a good choice then,” he replies, sitting down on the opposite end of the poster and pulling out a notebook and his book. “I did some work and got a bunch of lines that we could use as citations in different parts.”

“That’s great,” you say, picking a pen. “Let’s get started then?”

You two get straight to work, and all goes smoothly. Minghao is a good worker, you’ve noticed. His friends are quite fun—you’ve seen him with them in the hallways sometimes—but you start to realize that Minghao doesn’t let himself sacrifice his work ethic for fun.

You make quite some progress over the next hour or two, and you’re just about to bring up one of your ideas. “So over here, I was thinking we could write out the context of the play and then—” You’re cut off by the voice of your older brother at your door. He’s looking down at his phone with his lips pressed into a tight line as he speaks.

“Mom’s starting another cycle of chemo this Thursday so—oh, sorry,” Beomgyu says quickly upon looking up and seeing you have a visitor. “Come to my room when you’re done,” he mutters before turning on his heel.

The silence that envelopes your room is deafening.

You don’t say a word as you take a deep breath and pick up a different colored marker. You clear your throat. “So back to what I was saying …”

The next time you work on the poster, it’s at Minghao’s house.

You wear a blue gown at graduation. It’s a sunny day in June, and you’re sweating a little through the silk fabric, but it’s okay.

Your father and Beomgyu are there in the stands, but your eyes can’t help but be pulled to the empty seat next to them. Your mother said she’d try to make it, but broke the news last night that it was a dream too high up to reach.

It’s okay, you had told her, but as you clutch your diploma close to your heart, all you can think is, no it’s not, no it’s not, no it’s fucking not.

You sit through the rest of the ceremony with a silence and all around you, you see your peers’ smiling faces, the encouraging words of the dean, the cheers of the crowds, and somehow you feel so lost in it all. When you’re finally dismissed, everyone claps and revels once more, but somehow you can’t find the voice in your throat to join them.

Slipping through the crowds of people who line up to take pictures with their friends, family, and all the sort, you slip out of the small stadium and into some hallway.

“Fuck!” you finally cry out, raising your hand up and whipping it forward towards the brick wall. You wince, bracing yourself for the pain, but the sting never comes. Something warm envelopes your wrist, and when you finally blink your eyes open, you see a stranger.

“I don’t understand what you’re going through,” Minghao finally says. “I won’t pretend I do either, but it’ll be okay.” He hugs you and your face is pressed into Minghao’s own blue gown that is about to turn a few shades darker.

You cry. You cry harder than you think you’ve ever cried before.

You don’t know what it is about the way he speaks. Maybe it’s the way he holds you. Maybe it’s the way he smells. Maybe it’s everything, but whatever it is or isn’t, you don’t stop crying and for a gracing moment, you bask in catharsis.

And then, you hear Beomgyu’s voice calling for you from a nearby hallway, so you pull back. Minghao presses his lips together and lets you go, hands dropping to the side as you wipe away the tears. There’s a darker blue splotch in the middle of his chest, but he says nothing of it.

You don’t say a word as you step back—the only communication you share is a nod, but you swear on every last star in the sky that he has said more words to you in that moment than anyone has told you in your entire lifetime.

You don’t see Minghao’s face until it’s seven years later and he’s plastered on the screen as SECTOR’s newest recruit. He’s got phenomenal potential as an F1 racer—greatest new talent in a while—you hear the host of the channel say, but as you look at his picture on the screen, all you see is the face of a stranger who’s held you tighter than anyone before.

The last time you saw Minghao, it was through tear-blurred vision as you scurried out of Room C—you had to tell Jeonghan through broken sniffles to wrap up the session with Minghao—that the weight of the day had gotten to your head and that you needed to take a breather.

It wasn’t entirely a lie. You retreated to your office soon after, staring at the photo of you and your mother that sat at the corner of your table, and then you cried a little more.

It’s the next day when you’re back in the office. Two patients had just finished up, and you’re sitting in your office, filing through some emails when you hear the familiar ringing of the front door opening. You furrow your eyebrows to yourself, not recalling having any other patients scheduled for at least another two hours.

Had Jeonghan and Seungkwan taken their break earlier than you thought? No, that can’t be possible because they always let you know when they’re heading out and—

“Doc!” you hear Seungkwan’s voice call out to you from down the hall. “Could you come here for a sec’?”

Frowning, you close your laptop and stand up, walking out the doorway and down the hallway towards the front entrance of the clinic. “What is i—oh.” The question dies on your tongue when you see Minghao standing in the reception.

Something in your stomach churns at the sight of him—eyes slightly blown out, lips parted but somehow curved downward in a way that has your own lips frowning. The events of the past few days crashes down on you, and you bite down on your bottom lips in hopes that it’ll ground you in reality.

Seungkwan stands behind the main desk, looking at you with some sort of awry expression, and you catch Jeonghan coming down from the other hallway to catch the odd situation. Minghao doesn’t seem to mind though, eyes zoning in on you.

“I need to talk to you,” he says. You feel Seungkwan and Jeonghan’s gazes burn into the back of your skull.

Glancing at them, you point to the door. “You guys can take your lunch break now,” you tell them before turning your attention to Minghao. “Let’s go to Room C?”

He follows you in an instant, slipping into the seat that he always does as you close the door behind you and walking up to stand in front of him.

You can hear the words already coming together on his tongue—I’m sorry—and so you open your mouth before Minghao can even say it.

“I’m sorry,” you say, breaking the silence. “I shouldn’t have stormed out like that.”

“No, I—I shouldn’t have said anything. I had no idea you—” Minghao stops himself. He doesn’t know how much is too much.

It’s funny; Minghao’s whole career is about being in the driver’s seat but somehow when it comes to you, he doesn’t know when to press on the gas or hit the brake.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you,” he says. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you since graduation.”

“Me too,” you respond in an instant. “I see so much of myself in you,” you tell him.

“Stop, I—our situations aren’t comparable and—”

“Let me be the judge of that, yeah?” you cut him off with a small smile and through tears, cupping his face. The skin over his cheek bones are soft when you run your thumbs over them. “When everything is going wrong and you’re so angry, and you’re blaming all the wrong people but you can’t help it, and it makes you feel worse and there isn’t a thing you can do about it.”

“Yeah.”

You inhale steadily, feeling hot water meet your hands and trickle down to your wrists. Minghao is crying, and suddenly you are hit with waves of deja vu. “I get it, okay?” you tell him, even though you know that Minghao already knows. You get it better than anyone. “It’ll be okay.”

The echo of his words from all those years ago crashes down on you, and suddenly Minghao pulls your arms down causing you to hunch over so your face is right in front of his.

“I’ve thought about you everyday since then.” The words come out of your mouth in a soft whisper. “Even when she passed away a few months later.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he mutters, eyes closing and head titling forward so that your foreheads press against each other. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you tell him, stroking his cheek. “You don’t have to be sorry—you were right. Everything’s okay. Everything’s okay.”

“I—I’m sorry, I just—”

Something about the way Minghao says the word sorry not from his throat, but from his stomach, has your mind twisting in ways that you can’t comprehend. The sound is so guttural and heart-wrenching, and this time you want to cry because he’s got nothing to be sorry for. Not a thing.

And so you kiss him.

You kiss Minghao because he is no longer a stranger. Because he is crying for you and you might as well cry for him. Cry for him, but you have done enough crying to last you a lifetime and so you kiss him instead, because they speak the same words: I love you.

And his lips are soft, his tongue warm, his hand ghosting over your arm is gentle, and you can hear it. You hear it in the way he moves against you—he understands and you want to cry again because he’s always understood, and so you don’t cry but only kiss him deeper.

“I made you something,” he admits. “It’s in the car.”

You’re thankful you sent your two coworkers out when you did, sparring all four of you the awkwardness when you and Minghao slip out of Room C and out the clinic towards the parking lot and to his car.

He pulls a blanket out from the passenger seat. It’s hardly big enough to cover your lower half but it’s bright and blue and warm, and somehow you feel your eyes well up with tears that you can’t seem to stop this time.

“Did you—did you make this?” you choke out as Minghao stands in front of you, handing the cloth over as you run your palms over the loose threads and yarn that poke through.

“Crocheted it myself,” he tells you, standing from a couple inches above, as you marvel over his work. Minghao thinks he’s done a poor job—you could probably do better—but you clutch the blanket with such vigor that he doesn’t have the heart to tell you. “You’ve helped me so much,” he says instead.

“Fuck,” you mutter over harsh breaths. “Y-you made this.”

“You taught me,” he corrects, and that’s when the dam breaks.

And this time Minghao hugs you, and you can tell he’s being careful about his neck and in all your frenzy you almost want to push him away and say, “Don’t move so much!” but then his arms fold in on you like a blanket of their own and you crumble.

You crumble into happiness because through everything you’ve ever been through, Minghao still holds you tighter than one holds onto life itself.

“I don’t think I can come here on Sunday next week,” you tell your boyfriend as you peer down at your phone. You’re leaning over his kitchen counter going between looking at some emails and glancing at the screen.

Minghao groans, and you bite back a smile. “Are you serious? Why?”

“Yes I’m serious,” you huff, rolling your eyes playfully. “My brother’s visiting town for a bit.”

“And I can’t meet him, why?” Minghao asks with a raised brow.

You laugh. “Good point. I haven’t told him I’m dating yet though. Might be too big of a ball drop if I tell him I have a boyfriend right away. A boyfriend who’s SECTOR’s best racer, might I add,” you say, pouring yourself a glass of water from the fridge before joining Minghao on the couch.

“It would be a good surprise though, right?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Yeah yeah, whatever floats your boat,” you shoot sarcastically. “But seriously. I’ll see if I can get you two to meet, but I really can’t see you on Sunday. I have to pick Beomgyu up from the airport.”

“Got it,” Minghao agrees, shuffling closer to you as you both focus on the TV. A live interview with Kim Mingyu plays on the screen, the young man talking about his recent rise in recognition. You two sit in silence for a couple of minutes before Minghao speaks up.

“I fucking hate not being able to do anything,” he groans, shifting onto your shoulder slightly. His condition’s gotten exponentially better in past couple of weeks, but you instructed for him to wait at least two more weeks before fully getting back to training.

He’s been restless ever since, you’ve started to notice. “Do I really need to wait?” he mutters, lips close to your ear as you cuddle into his embrace.

You pull back slightly, narrowing your eyes at him. “Yes! I told you—it’s a part of the process.”

“Fuck the process, I wanna drive again!”

“Too bad I guess,” you say with a shrug, turning your attention to the TV. The channel moves on from the interview to talk about some updates, and eventually somewhere in the mix, Minghao’s name comes up, and you hear the man next to you curse under his breath.

Chewing on your tongue, you debate for a few moments on what to do before reaching for the remote to shut the TV off.

“Hey! I was watching th—”

“Do you ever stop complaining?” you huff, stepping out of his embrace much to Minghao’s dismay. “Stop moving,” you order him, sliding down onto your knees in front of his legs.

“What are you do—oh.” You hear the words dry on his tongue when you nudge your body between his thighs, inching closer to his groin.

“You’re so restless,” you hum, trailing your fingers from his knees, over his thighs, and finally let the ghost over the growing tent under his sweatpants. “Let me take care of you, yeah?” you suggest, toying with the elastic waistband of his pants and boxers.

“O-okay,” Minghao agrees, and you grin at the way you see his cheeks flush pink when you inch the fabric off of his pants. His cock springs out, hardening under your gaze as it slaps against his lower adobe that’s still covered by his shirt.

You think for a moment to help Minghao out of his shirt too, but with the pretty pearl of precum dribbling off his slit, veins pressing up all against the length of his cock—all of him aching just for you—you start to feel your mouth water, forgetting about anything that isn’t having Minghao’s cock in your mouth.

“Careful with the right arm, ‘kay?” you tell him, a sly smirk tugging at your lips when you bring them down, dragging them over the base of his length all the way up to the glossy tip where you place a wet kiss.

“Y-yeah—fuck baby,” Minghao grunts when you envelope your lips around his throbbing tip, tongue swirling over the slit at the top as you do so. His left arm makes its way into your hair, fingers digging into your scalp when you pull back to take a deep breath.

Saliva drips down the corner of your lips, and as you look up at Minghao with wide, glossy eyes, he thinks he might bust in on the spot. “Go on baby,” he murmurs, using his firm grip on your head to nudge your lips closer to his pink tip. “Put it in …” he instructs, and when you grin and open your lips wide once more, Minghao knows he’s too far gone to be saved.

“You’re so hard Hao,” you whisper against him, tongue tracing constellations over the base of his cock when you reach to cup his balls, massaging them under your palms.

“Fuck, just like that baby,” Minghao moans, and the sound is so guttural it has your own pussy clenching around nothing. Your skin burns when you take him into your mouth again, cock sliding further down your mouth than before.

He’s so thick, and you feel every last curve of his cock, every last vein, against your cheeks, pressing against your tongue—Minghao is all you can taste, and you might go drunk on the sensation alone.

And he isn’t faring quite well above you either—his hand in your hair has got a firm hold but if anything, Minghao is losing touch with reality. Your mouth is so soft and so warm, your tongue so meticulous with the way it’s swirling around his tip when you slip off his cock before pushing your mouth back down on him—he’s going fucking crazy.

“Baby—oh baby,” the words rumble at the base of his chest, egging you on. With every bob of your head, you start to take him down further until his fat tip is battering against the back of your throat and yeah, it’s got tears pricking at the corners of your eyes but he’s moaning and grunting and squirming all for you and you just can’t seem to fucking stop.

“Shit, shit, shit—baby, ‘m gonna cum if you keep doing that,” he warns when you deep throat all of him, your nose nearly pressing against his pelvis as you press your eyes tight and revel in the sound of his moans, the feeling of his hands in your hair.

You take his slice of warning as a token of advice, pulling back for only a breath before attempting to do the same thing again, shoving his cock into your mouth and down your throat, rubbing whatever you can’t with your palms as wetness smears all over your lips and cheeks.

“Oh—fuck, I’m—”

When Minghao cums, it’s with his chest singing your name. Breathy moans—calls for you—as you suck him through the high, hot white painting the inside of your cheeks and tongue. You pant heavily when you finally pull yourself off of him, swallowing all that is left of him in your mouth, and then he looks at you with flushed cheeks and you both grin.

And when you climb up, Minghao hugs you. He hugs you like a blanket—like the blanket he made you, the blanket you taught him to make—and you two bask in this moment because Minghao is no longer stranger, but he is here and he is in your arms and you are in is, and there isn’t any other place you’d rather be.

a/n: mika ramble time! whatever demonic sickness has been haunting me for the past 5 days will NOT get the best of me. i have been aching to get this fic out since like september and it was initially supposed to be posted on hubbie's bday but :/ unfortunately i was a bit late bc life gets in the way ;c overall i'm really happy w it! personally, i think this is among the most emotional fics i've written, and i am extremely proud of myself for some parts of this so !! yea !! if u enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it, pls feel free to leave comments / reblogs >_< they mean the world to me ^^

#seventeen imagines #seventeen smut #svt smut #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #seventeen fanfic #seventeen angst #svt angst #minghao smut #minghao x reader #xu minghao x reader #xu minghao smut #xu minghao fanfic #xu minghao angst #minghao angst #the8 x reader #the8 angst #📝 writing #flight of the stars

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iholdwhatican · 7 months ago

Text

tension

part two to reunions - must read part 1 first!

pairing: art donaldson x reader x patrick zweig

length: 3.2k

author's note: this took wayyyy too long for me to do yall, i'm so sorry. these two have a tight hold on me and i'm in the trenches. i've got some good stuff lined up tho, and i'm super excited to write it heeheehee :) also smut in the future will be much longer and much more detailed, just fyi

tags: y/n is art donaldson's wife ; birthday party ; art is down bad ; patrick wants y/n ; possessive!art ; the boys are fighting ; no use of y/n ; pining ; sexual tension ; sugar mommy y/n? ; unapologetic flirting with your bff's wife at his birthday party

warnings: sexual content, p in v, not super detailed but still there!

summary: the stressful night of the birthday party continues, and you find yourself pinging between art and patrick like a tennis ball. how the hell did you get yourself into this?

originally posted by iholdwhatican

It took four minutes and 36 seconds of Art and Patrick being alone outside before the anxiety became too much. Your dress was too tight against your skin and the chatter of the guests rattled in your skull. Your mind replayed the anger on Art’s face over and over, convinced that he’d direct it at you the moment he came back in. And if you were being honest, you couldn’t stop thinking about that kiss.

Your blood boiled with the ferocity of it, and an ache in your core begged for another taste.

Another three minutes and 18 seconds passed while you downed half of your second glass of wine. You made conversation with a few people who caught your eye, making sure all the food and drink were up to par. Not that you really could care about that right now. Your mind was a jumble of thoughts about the two men on the balcony.

Art, Patrick, Art, Patrick, Art, Patrick, Art, Patrick

“You look like you’re gonna puke.”

For the second time that night, Patrick Zweig’s voice made you jump.

You looked at him, catching sight of that damned smirk that made your stomach flip, and furrowed your brows. One quick scan of the room came up empty for your husband, forcing the anxiety in your chest to worsen.

“Where’s Art?” You asked, not missing the way your voice wobbled slightly.

“Relax.” Patrick responded, resting a hand on your shoulder, “He went to the kitchen, I think. I didn’t kill him. And he didn’t run for the hills either.”

You decided not to comment on how easily he’d read your worries without you saying anything. For some reason, you were an open book to him.

A deep sigh left you. You licked your lips anxiously- which immediately caused Patrick’s eyes to fall on your mouth.

“What happened out there?”

The man gave you a shrug, letting his hand fall back to his side, “Nothing, really. We just talked for a bit. He told me I could stay, as long as I stopped flirting with you.”

“So does that mean you’re going to stop?” The idea made you slightly unhappy, which in turn filled you with guilt. Why were you so excited by his flirtations when you had a wonderful, loving husband who treated you like a queen?

But then Patrick grinned, and you knew the answer before he said it, “Well, I’ve never been one to do what I’m told.”

A smile grew over your lips, and you tried to hide it with an eye roll, “Why don’t you mingle? Try some food. I’m going to find my husband.”

He didn’t miss the enunciation you put on ‘my husband’, and you didn’t miss the way his eyes darkened as you said it. You didn’t give it time to linger, instead turning away and moving towards the kitchen.

You knew the look Patrick had in his eyes. You’d seen it a dozen times in Art’s. On the court, over a board game, in all sorts of scenarios. And every time, even now, the look sent a chill down your spine.

That expression was clear, resolute competition.

Just as Patrick had said, you found Art in the kitchen. With his back to you, you had a perfect view of his tense shoulders and hanging head as he poured himself a glass of water. He was all wound up, and you knew it was your fault. Now it was your responsibility to fix it.

You stepped up behind him, sliding a hand between his shoulder blades. He didn’t hesitate to lean into the touch, a subconscious reaction. He knew it was you just by the feel of your hand on him. And, even if he might be furious, he still found comfort in it.

“Hey…” You breathed, leaning to the side to meet his gaze. Art looked at you over his shoulder, a half-smile quirking his lips up, “How are you doing?”

“Hey.” He responded, turning and sliding his hands over your hips. Your chest pressed against his as he leaned down and placed a kiss on your hairline. Then he just lingered there, breathing in your smell, “I honestly don’t know. I just- it was so weird to see him.”

“Yeah, of course it was.” Your words reached him in a soft, comforting tone. The guilt of putting your perfect, doting husband in this situation was enough to make you feel like you had barbed wire around your neck. You had to pay penance- somehow. You rubbed your hand in circles over his back, “I’m sorry, sundrop. I don’t know what I was thinking when I invited him.”

Sundrop. A nickname that went way back to the early days of your relationship. Art was an energetic puppy dog with a halo of golden curls and a smile that made your insides feel hot. He was what you pictured a personification of the sun to be, hence the pet name. He pretended not to like it, but his eyes always sparkled a certain way when you said it.

Art pulled his head away to peer down into your eyes, his own pensive and confused, “No, baby, don’t be sorry. It was a great fucking surprise. Just… a surprise.”

You shook your head. He was so fucking good to you, “You’re allowed to be mad at me.”

“Mad? At you?” In one quick motion, he picked you up and set you on the counter. Your legs opened for him without hesitation, allowing him to slot right in between them, “I don’t think that’s possible.”

You fought the blush rising in your cheeks and rolled your eyes, “You think too highly of me.”

“No. Never.” He replied instantly. He kissed your chin. Then your jaw. Then your neck. Then down your throat, “As far as I’m concerned, you’re God.”

“Art-” You argued, though you weren’t sure what for. You tilted your neck back and offered yourself up to him.

“I could spend my life on my knees for you and be happy.” His words were muffled as he mouthed at your neck, sending shivers down your spine. This, combined with the kiss from earlier, was making you ache with need. You were half-tempted to end the party early and take your pretty husband to bed.

You bit your lip when he ran his tongue over a sensitive spot above your collarbone. If he wasn’t in between them, you’d be squeezing your thighs together.

When Art pulled away, his eyes had darkened. Dilated pupils and heavy breaths told you all you needed to know. He was just as fucking horny as you were right now. His hands held your hips tighter.

“Do you think we’d be left alone long enough for me to show you how much I mean it?” He asked. It was almost as if he were begging. As if he couldn’t bear the idea of doing anything other than dropping to his knees and devouring you.

And God, when he looked at you like that, you had no choice but to say yes.

Unfortunately, fate intervened, and you were kept from making a scene at your husband’s birthday party.

“Hey, you two, quit snogging and come entertain us!” One of Art’s tennis friends called, sticking their head into the kitchen. The big grin on their face told you it was just teasing, but you still felt your face burning with embarrassment.

“It’s my birthday, let me do what I want.” Art jeered right back, lifting you off the counter and back onto your own two feet. You laughed airily at the comment, feeling more light-headed than anything.

Before following his friend back into the action, he whispered a quick, “Later, okay?” to you. And then he left you standing in the kitchen- touch-starved, foggy-headed, and excruciatingly aroused.

It was then that you realized you didn’t even get to ask him what happened with Patrick.

Upon re-entering the party, you found yourself taking note of two things- or rather, two people. One, Art- conversing with some friends from the foundation with a big grin on his face. Two, Patrick- having his fill of finger foods from the refreshment table. He was alone. And though you tried to fight it, you found yourself gravitating towards him.

“Do they not have food where you’re from?” You teased, falling into place at his side. Your gaze slid over the spread before flicking up to his face.

You’d caught him mid-bite, and he attempted to swallow quickly and regain his composure. Something warmed slightly in your chest. Endearing.

“Well, I’m kinda… in between places right now.” He explained, tongue stuck in his cheek to clear out residual bits of food, “And there’s never stuff as good as this.”

You let the compliment slide away, instead focusing on his more troubling response, “Are you homeless?”

“What? No.” He chuckled, as if the question were preposterous, “I go all over for tennis. It’s just easier to stay on the move.”

You raised an eyebrow, “And on off-season?”

Something in his expression darkened, only for a moment, and then he was back to cocky smiles and overwhelming confidence, “I’m too busy to care about that. And what’s it matter to you, anyway?”

“I’d like to think I’m a good person.” You said, plucking a snack off the table and popping it into your mouth. You chewed it halfway before continuing, “And a good person worries if they think someone they care about isn’t doing well.”

Patrick grinned at you for five long seconds. And it took him actually saying the words to realize where you’d slipped up.

“You care about me?”

Shit. You had not meant to say that. Why was this man so damn good at getting every little thought in your head to spill out of your mouth?

“If caring about you means I don’t want you sleeping under a bridge somewhere, then sure.”

“Okay, I would never let it get that far-”

“I wanna help.”

He blinked, “Help how?” Briefly, very briefly, you thought of your bed. Your comfortable, spacious bed, perfect for three individuals. You could picture it- you, safe and sound and nestled between the two men. Art, your lovely, obedient husband on one side, letting himself love and be loved. And Patrick on the other side, nice and cozy with a roof over his head and a full belly.

The image flashed in an instant, and you were left with hollow, heavy guilt. You swallowed.

“How much do you need?”

“Huh?” You rolled your eyes at him, “How much money do you need? To keep you afloat for the next little while. And I’ll send you home tonight with leftovers.”

Patrick let the words wash over him, slowly smiling as they did. He took a step towards you, close enough that one tiny shove would have your bodies pressed together. You could smell him, all sweat and cigarettes and woodsy cologne that made your head spin. You’d been wound up all night, and this was absolutely not helping.

“You gonna write me a check? Use your hard-earned money to get a practical stranger a hotel for a couple nights?” He murmured, heavy on the charm, “What would your husband think?”

He knew he’d gotten under your skin. He knew what he was doing. He was fucking enjoying this.

You tried to hold your ground, looking up at him through your lashes, “It’s his money, actually. He makes sure I never have to work unless I want to.”

“Guess he treats you pretty well. And look how you’re taking advantage of it.” His hand lay on the table next to yours, his fingertips nearly brushing the skin of your wrist. How bad would it be if you closed the gap?

You bit your lip, “You’re allowed to turn me down.”

“I don’t think I’d ever turn you down, Mrs. Donaldson.”

Something about that title, something about the way he said it, made your blood run hot and cold at the same time. It reminded you of the myths of sirens. Beautiful monsters of the sea that used their voices to bring others to their demise. Talking to Patrick had that same type of allure, and the sense of danger.

“Then tell me what you need.”

“What do you think I need?”

Oh, you could think of a few things. But you could also feel a pair of eyes on you, and you knew exactly who they belonged to. Part of you wanted to tempt him, see if you could get another reaction like out on the balcony. However, you quickly shot the idea down. Not right now, not in the middle of a crowded party.

Lips curving into an innocent smile, you pushed yourself a step back from him, “I think you need a nice place to sleep. And a few good meals. And maybe a hug.”

The sudden switch-up took Patrick by surprise, but he handled it smoothly and responded only a beat later, “You’re offering?”

“At least for the first two.” You didn’t know what you’d do if you were in his arms. With the way you were feeling now, with two glasses of wine in your system, your boundaries were getting blurrier and blurrier. How humiliating.

His bottom lip jutted out into a pout. Which unfortunately dragged your gaze right down to his mouth. It took you a moment too long to meet his eyes again.

“What, we can’t hug? Don’t you consider me a friend?”

“I do.” You shrugged, tucking loose hair behind your ear, “Maybe I’m just not a touchy person.”

A lie. You knew it, and you could tell by the look on his face that he knew it too.

“Yeah.” He smirked, sounding the opposite of sincere, “Art’s wife isn’t a touchy person. Sure.”

You needed a cold shower. Or to go have some one-on-one time with your vibrator. Or maybe move to the seaside and spend your days going mad in a lighthouse. You weren’t sure. All you knew was how increasingly hot you were feeling.

“Speaking of Art, go talk to him. Try to make amends. Meet some of his friends.” You suggested, glancing over at your husband. He wasn’t watching you anymore, at least not straight on. But he had a radar when it came to you, and he was very diligent in keeping tabs. No matter what.

“You trying to get rid of me?” Patrick asked lightly. No heat behind the words.

“Oh, yes.” You admitted, placing your hands on his shoulders and pointing him towards Art, “Find me again before you leave and I’ll have your check.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He grinned at you over his shoulder, sending a wink before sauntering off.

Finally, you felt like you could actually get a breath in your lungs.

The party had ended. Guests went home, Patrick got his check and headed to a hotel you recommended, and you and your partner left all the cleanup for the morning. You barely gave it a second glance as you went up to bed with him, your hand held tightly in his.

Art fucked you like a starving man that night. You barely got into the room before his lips were plastered on your skin, his hands unzipping your dress with quick precision. He was usually much more reserved, but something about tonight had made him ravenous. And he wasn’t the only one.

You ended up on his lap; bare chests pressed together, skin sweaty and breaths heavy as you rolled your hips into him. His hands clutched your thighs, keeping you close, fingers pressing into the flesh. You pulled on his hair and his head immediately fell back. As if he were a puppet for you to position and use however you wanted. His eyes looked up at you with a fire in them you’d never seen before, but the adoration, the reverence, was all too familiar.

Your name fell from his lips over and over again like a prayer. The single word weaved with threads of devotion, possessiveness, desire. A song joined in chorus by whatever nonsensical phrase entered his head. I love you, so perfect, all mine, please, please, please.

He was claiming you. Marking his territory in his own special way. It didn’t matter that Patrick wasn’t here to see it, or that he probably would never even know. As long as Art could tell himself that you were his, he’d be okay. Jealousy was a good look on him.

You could feel your core tighten with each and every movement of his hips against you. You weren’t going to last much longer. But by the look in your husband’s eyes, neither was he.

Parted lips claimed yours in a messy kiss, tongue sliding into your mouth and exploring every open space. Then you were being flipped over; back pressed into the mattress as Art rocked into you with reckless abandon. He intertwined his fingers with yours and pinned your hands above your head without ever breaking the kiss.

You lasted about thirty seconds. Finally, the tension in you snapped and your orgasm washed over you in waves, leaving you limp and trembling. Art finished only a moment later. You could feel him pulsing inside of you as the aftershocks slowly faded away. The room reeked of sweat and sex and your head was spinning.

Art, your precious, dutiful man, rested his head on your chest as he attempted to catch his breath. You could feel the tickle of his lips kissing your skin, the soft squeeze of his hands on your hips. You ran a hand through his damp hair, fingers massaging his scalp.

“I love you.” He murmured against your ribs, right over your thundering heart. He said it like he couldn’t quite believe he was allowed, like he didn’t believe you were here, that you were his.

Dark hair and cigarette smoke flashed through your mind. Almost-touching hands and paper checks.

“I love you.” You responded, kissing his hairline, “Happy Birthday, baby.”

The only response you got was a tired, happy sound and another kiss to your collarbone. A quick adjustment later and the two of you were tucked under the blankets, your head on Art’s chest and his arm around you. Neither of you cared enough to clean yourselves up or to put pajamas on. Art was already softly snoring next to you, and you could feel your eyelids getting heavy.

As you listened to the baddump of his heart, a strange thought flitted through your mind. You’d just had the best sex of your life, and it was because of Patrick. You weren’t the only one who’d been thinking of him while in the throes of passion. The notion made something strange twinge in your gut.

And then, like he’d somehow read your mind, your phone lit up with a text.

Patrick Zweig: You free for lunch tomorrow?

***

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grimm-writings · 8 months ago

Note

HI IT'S EAVESDROP ANON YOU GAVE ME AN IDEA what if izutsumi and reader faced the succubi together, and izu sees that one of reader's succubi looks like chilchuck !! maybe she promises to keep it a secret, but also talks to reader about it? bonus points if izu and reader have a sort of unspoken mother/daughter relationship :')

to the grave

…ft! chilchuck x fem! reader, izutsumi & reader

…tags! headcanon format, slight suggestive points, motherly reader

…wc! 623

…notes! give it up for One Whole Request Complete omfg. sorry for how short it is eavesdrop anon it’s been a rough few weeks for me 🫶 this is absolutely not my best work, but i did what i could!

“Come on… I know you always thought about how I’d look underneath you.”

Hearing the words come from his mouth renders you still. It’s his face, his voice, yet completely wrong.

You had thought he had somehow recovered and came back to help you, but of course it isn’t as easy as it appeared.

You’re lucky to have Izutsumi with you. If it weren’t for her pushing you out of the way to claw at the succubus, you probably would have dropped all pretence and leaned down to where you had Chilchuck – or the succubus, rather – pinned to the floor to kiss.

Still, you can’t miss the look of absolute disbelief she gives you.

Silence fills the air as the succubus is reduced to nothing more than slob on the floor. You refuse to look at what, to you, is eerily similar to Chilchuck’s visage. Disturbingly so. For just a second, you consider reaching out to it (him?) again. However, Izutsumi is quick to swat you away. “Hey, we have a mob incoming,” she tells you. You are about to retort, interrogating if she even felt remorse for hurting someone that looks like your ally, but Izutsumi’s quick to interrupt. “We’ll discuss this later.” She leaves your side. Preparing your weapon with a deep breath, you prepare to fight off the waves of succubi ahead.

It’s only when you and Izutsumi assemble all the bodies of your allies does she finally speak up.

She really isn’t interested in the ‘hot gossip’ like Marcille would be. In her own rough way, Izutsumi is more just expressing worry for you.

She doesn’t overall react to the fact it’s Chilchuck that you saw. It was just sort of an “Oh!” before she remembered that this succubus will steal your life force.

“So, you just wanted to protect me?” At your conclusion, Izutsumi growls. She faces away from you as she drags over a succubus to drain into Senshi’s pot. “When you put it like that,” she grumbles, “it makes it sound all virtuous and sappy.” You laugh, reaching over to pat Izutsumi’s head. “I appreciate it very much, thank you Izutsumi.” Maybe it’s the fact she just had to confront this ‘mother’ the succubi took the form of, but the cat girl feels at ease when you show affection to her. She sighs, giving up on the argument quicker than she normally would.

That is to say… she wouldn’t not tease you.

She’d hand you some of the milk, poured into a bowl. “Here, for Chilchuck.”

Your face contorts in confusion. “Why me?”

“So you can get all close and intimate and stuff.”

“Izutsumi.”

She wants to support you both! She just… doesn’t really care.

The party has woken up, and by now Marcille has spoken up, “what were your succubi like? Laios? Oh, what about yours?” She turns to you, her green eyes glimmering with curiosity. Cheeks and tip of her ears flushed, it’s hard to miss what exactly she’s on about. You sheepishly laugh anyway, your mind recalling the lowered eyelids, the words spoken to you by the succubus. “I don’t know if I…” “Hey, don’t pressure her to say things like that.” Chilchuck’s voice cuts through the air, and makes you jump. He’s at your side, shooing Marcille away. “That stuff’s usually private for a reason. If she wants to say, she will.” It doesn’t go unnoticed how Chilchuck doesn’t say a word when Marcille instead asks Laios for details on his succubus, though. Though you should be glad Izutsumi isn’t awake to see this. If she was, she’d be rolling her eyes and bemoaning how nauseating the pining was to herself. So, maybe taking things to the grave is for the better.

#✮ grimm's fics!#dungeon meshi imagines #delicious in dungeon imagines #dungeon meshi x reader #delicious in dungeon x reader #delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi #chilchuck #chilchuck tims #chilchuck x reader #chilchuck tims x reader #chilchuck imagines #chilchuck tims imagines #izutsumi #izutsumi imagines #this is so crap i'm sorry folks </3

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jollyhunter · 1 month ago

Text

24 Kinky Days with Dean x reader - Day 1.

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW - MDNI! - includes explicit sexual content and sex toys, soft!dom Dean. It's a kinky writing challenge, so expect anything at this point, (nothing freaky, don't worry) but it's a surprise calendar so I won't spoil it! Also, English is not my native language

Advent calendar includes: headcanons, snippets, one shots, imagines, blurbs etc.

Words: 2,380

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

A/N: If you want to be tagged for the next parts, just let me know. And feedback is welcome!! Enjoy! 🦊

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

1st Dec. - Sunshine

“Sunshine?” You repeat the unexpected nickname with a little grin while you sit down on the edge of the motels bed. You were used to sweetheart, darling, love or even baby, but sunshine? “That’s a new one…” you remark with a teasing lift of your eyebrow, your eyes darting from his, back down to the gift on your lap.

“I thought it suited you.” He explains with an expression which was almost too innocent for him. Clearly he is trying his best to hide his knowing smile, but his excited voice betrays him. “Now open it, sunshine.”

“Uh-huh”, Your finger tugs at the unconventional gift paper, which consisted of nothing but a roll of toilet paper that hung loosely around the small package. “Interesting wrapping paper you picked there…” You comment with a wry smile. This was so typical Dean.

He chuckles at your remark, “What can I say? I’m a fan of practical gift wrapping,” he says with a cocky smirk, taking a seat next to you, “It’s eco-friendly.” The mattress dipped down from his weight and your shoulders bumped against each other. He makes a great effort to play it cool, but the slight friction was enough for you to notice the excitement and arousal which was radiating off of him. This just made you wonder even more; What the hell is that sly bastard up to this time?

Dean watches as you carefully unwrap the package, clearly intrigued by what he had given you. “But I promise, the content’s worth the toilet paper sacrifice,” he adds with a playful smirk. There it was again, that all too familiar glint in his green eyes. That flash of ‘oh baby if only you knew’.

At last, you rip the box open, your eyes peering down to be met with… Oh dear lord. Your eyes widen and Dean could see a million thoughts flicker across your face at the moment of realization. This is exactly the reaction he had hoped for. He has to bite the inside of his cheeks to keep a straight face – but fails miserably.

“You stick it where the sun don’t shine… sunshi-”

“I know where it goes.” you cut him short in a sputter, your mind still trying to catch up with this... this gift, “I just- I’ve never-…”

“- done it before. I know,” he finishes for you, his voice a mixture of teasing and reassuring, “Remember that talk we had? About tryin’ new things.” He leans over, his shoulders brushing against your chest as he reaches into the box. “You like it?”, he asks, feigning innocence. He takes the toy out of the box to trace a finger lightly over the small, jewel-adorned plug.

“I-...I- uh-,” You start, but your eyes keep drifting down to the toy in his hand, your mind racing – damnit, you were usually confident and experienced when it came down to these things… but, to be honest, kinky stuff really hasn’t made it into your bedroom so far. But trying these things with Dean for the first time? You’d be damned for missing out on that. And hey, don't knock it till you try it, right?

“Yeh, I like it,” you finally say, trying to muster some of your usual confidence, “I mean… I did say I wanna spice it up...”

That answer hit jackpot in Dean’s expression. He bites his bottom lip, trying to contain his eagerness, yet again, failing miserably. “Well, don’t keep me waitin’,” he teases, his voice just a tad bit lower than usual. You glance down at the toy and back up at him, unsure how to approach this exactly.

Noticing your lost expression, Dean gently takes your hand and leads you to stand up in front of him, him still seated on the edge of the bed. “Strip.” His tone has an authoritative edge to it now, though his eyes remain soft, almost tender as he tries to guide you.

You feel a little shiver run down your spine; that damn voice could have made your knees buckle any time. Nodding slightly, you slowly begin to undress, stripping off layer after layer of clothing until you stand completely naked before him. Dean takes a moment to admire your body, his eyes roaming over every part of you. As his gaze lands on your hips, he speaks again, his voice a low growl. “Now turn around, sweetheart.” He places his hands on your hips, his fingers trailing over your skin, sending a row of shivers through your body. Once you face away from him, you involuntarily bite your lower lip in anticipation. With the toy in his grasp, he speaks again, his voice barely above a whisper. “Get on your hands and knees, sunshine.” You swallow thickly. But again, you obey his command without question and you drop down onto your hands and knees on the floor in front of the bed. By now you can feel the excitement and lust raise more with each of your quickened breaths. And Dean can almost smell your arousal as he has to bite back a groan from it, his bulge growing bigger. He pushes off the bed and places a hand between your shoulder blades, pushing you slightly forward, forcing you to arch your back slightly. He runs his fingertips down your spine, eliciting another small shiver from you. Out of your sight, but still not going unnoticed by your ears, you hear him lick the bottom of his lips at the sight while he could feel all of his blood go south. He leans in close to you, his lips just barely brushing against your ear. “You’re so damn beautiful.”

A small whimper leaves your lips at the praise and the feeling of his firm hands on your bare skin are already enough to make you dripping wet. You hear Dean move behind you, reaching for the lube on the bedside table and what you assume, coating the toy with it. He then gently leans against your back, the cold buckle of his belt and the evidence of his arousal pressing against your bare skin. You bite back a groan from it, silently wishing nothing more but for him to unbuckle those damn pants already. But you know, you’d have to be patient for now, so you keep your needy sounds back as well as you can. At least until you gasp loudly when you suddenly feel the cool, metallic surface make contact with the warm skin of your buttocks. “Relax, baby,” he murmurs, his free hand soothingly massaging the small of your back. “I’ll be gentle.” His voice is even deeper now, filled with lust. You feel his hands continue their exploration, running over your curves and every dip, his calloused fingers caressing you like you are a work of art he wants to savour. His hands send sparks up your spine and you find yourself shudder and your breath hitch whenever his fingers brush across your most sensitive spots. “Now, this might feel a lil’ odd at first,” you hear him whisper, his lips hovering over the back of your neck as you feel his warm breath tingle your skin and the fabric of his flannel rest against your back. “Lemme know if it’s too much, ‘kay?”

“Yeah, I will,” you reassure him in a low mumble, not managing to hide the slight trepidation from your voice while your fingers idly searched the rug for something to dig your fingers into.

Dean feels you tense under his touch and he makes sure to keep his hands firm yet tender, his fingers tracing reassuringly over your skin. “Remember, just relax,” he repeats, his lips grazing your ear as he speaks. A shaky breath escapes your lips and you do your best to loosen up your muscles and melt into his strong hands which always give you a feeling of safety, no matter what you two did. And you two had done a lot of adventurous things so far.

“I’ve got you,” you hear him whisper against your ear again. And this time you could swear you even heard some vulnerability in his voice. You trust him, always, no doubt about that. But it’s moments like these, rare little moments of him giving you a glimpse of how damn much he really cares about you feeling safe and protected in his presence, that makes you eager to reassure him. Maybe even please him a little. You hum a soft “Mhm”, silently giving him the final go.

Then, he begins to slowly press the plug forward, his hand still resting on your back, steadying you. You feel the cool and wet tip sliding further inside, spreading you surprisingly well – but then a little sting makes you gasp from the unexpected feeling, which let your muscles tense up momentarily, before you feel his soothing hands again, and you relax under his touch.

“Shhh, ‘tis alright,” he coos softly, the plug inching inside you at the same time, “Good girl. You deserve a big treat.” Your legs tremble from the sensation and a low whimper leaves your lips – it’s not bad, but still very new and you were constantly fighting the urge to clench your buttocks around the unfamiliar object. When Dean finally stilled in his movement and the toy reached its end, you couldn’t hold back the shaky exhale which was close to a soft moan. Now that your body has adjusted to it, it feels… surprisingly exciting and pleasurable. And damnit, you want more now. You need more.

A sudden pleading whine hits Dean’s ears and his smirk widens into a cocky grin at the needy noise coming from your trembling form. “You want more, sunshine?”

“Yes...please,” you whimper instantly, your hands and knees shifting along the rug, in a desperate attempt to get some friction between your thighs. He groans – this time failing to hold it back in. The sight of you, all needy and exposed and you wearing that pretty jewel adorned-plug that’s twinkling in the low light of the motel room and fuck- he just noticed how wet you are. He briefly grazes his bottom lip with his teeth before he clenches his jaw to force down a swallow, his voice a low rumble under his breath, “Goddamn honey…”. Meanwhile his fingers run along the inside of your wet thighs, scooping up some of your juice like he wanted to make sure that none of it went to waste. He brings his fingertips up to his lips where he then licks them off with a deep groan.

And that just does it to make Dean give in.

Without giving you the chance to prepare, he goes back to your pussy and effortlessly pushes two fingers past your slick lips, drawing a deep moan from you as you feel a shudder go through your body. He keeps one hand on the small of your back, while his fingers pump inside you, relentless and eager to give you the release you deserve. “You were such a good girl,” he praises you, his fingers curling inside you to hit that sweet spot which makes you almost buckle. “Oh God-” you moan shakily, the sensation of his thick fingers filling you up on one side while the butt plug is spreading your other side, was almost too much.

“You can take it, come on,” he challenges you with a gravelly voice, his teeth grazing your neck as if to dare you to talk back. “‘M gonna make sure you get what you deserve and then some,” he whispers against your ear, the sound of it a threat as much as a promise. And then he starts scissoring his fingers while holding you in place with his other hand. You groan loudly, your fingers clutching the next thing they can reach - the damn toilet paper wrapping, which rip and crumple from your nails in an instant. Your hip‘s bucking involuntarily at the increased pressure and a row of guttural moans leave your throat. “F-fuck” you whine breathlessly, the feeling of being spread and stretched becoming almost bordering painful and yet oh so pleasurable as you feel the knot inside you tighten up more and more. The working of his fingers and the pressure in your butt get you close to the edge in record time as you just give in and let him do his magic. Your legs start to shake and if it wasn’t for his fingers dug into the flesh at your hip, you’d have keeled over by now for sure. Dean increases the speed, now his thumb flicking over your swollen bundle of nerves every time he pumps his fingers inside of you again.

“F-fuck, Dean, I- I’m- I’m comin’-” your voice breaks off when his fingers hit your g-spot again and you find yourself whimper into the rug, your nails clawing at the floor.

“That’s it-” he praises you again, now slowing down his pace but thrusting them as deep as he can while his arm slams against the plug, pressing it further in - and that‘s the last push it takes to tip you over the edge. You feel your legs give in as the knot finally bursts and the wave of ecstasy hits you, your walls clenching around his fingers and your body tensing up. Dean keeps you from falling forward, his fingers still going and his grip on your hip tightening while he’s murmuring words that go past your clouded mind. He lets you ride out your hight while your juice is soaking his entire arm. You moan out his name with a final shudder before he lets you collapse to the floor.

Dean looks down at your trembling form, all spent and limp. A satisfied grin spreads across his face while his tongue swipes over his glistening arm, savouring your sweetness and cleaning some of the mess. After a moment, he kneels down behind you, his hands caressing your butt where he pulls the plug gently out, putting it aside before his hands go back to soothingly stroke your arms and legs. He places a row of tender kisses on the back of your neck, his voice a low rumble, filled with affection and pride as he whispers against the nape of your neck. “Happy first advent, sunshine.”

EDIT: I revised some of it. My sleep-deprived brain had left out some parts which I just had to add / adjust.

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

Masterlist of opened windows:

1st Dec. - Sunshine 2nd Dec. - Spell Book 3rd Dec. - Lights Out 4th Dec. - Tickle 5th Dec. - Dirty UNO 6th Dec. - (TBA) 7th Dec. - Candlelight 8th Dec. - Hex Play 9th Dec. - Whip Stroke

⚝‿︵‿୨♡ ⚝ ♡୧‿︵‿⚝

Tags: (thank you lovely sweeties, I hope you enjoyed it!)

@deaniemyboo @deansjacket @literallylexa

#dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean x you #spn reader insert #spn x reader #spn x you #dean winchester #soft dom! dean winchester x reader #supernatural smut #dean winchester smut #supernatural #spn #kinky advent calendar

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dumpywrites · 26 days ago

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Test Drive - Min Yoongi / Suga

Prompt: “How does one incite a first kiss?”

Prompt request: HERE

Genre/tags: Fluff, friends to lovers, friends with benefits? but they only kiss

Pairing: Yoongi x she/her reader

a/n: The idea of friends figuring out their feelings for each other is always so cute to me idk why >_<

Yoongi and you used to date once… back in high school. That happened due to peer pressure and the fear of missing out from not getting a prom date like everyone else. In fact, neither one of you had ever said anything about your feelings to each other, just a mere “do you think it’d be cool if we just date?” uttered by your friend on a random Thursday after school. It didn’t last that long as you agreed that friendship just made a lot more sense than relationship to you both.

Fast forward to just a few years later, you were now a fully functional adult, at least that was what you’d like to think. The high school quote on quote friendship gang that you used to have, was now slowly divided by work. All of you were occupied by your own schedules, projects, side jobs, or simply, just adulting stuff. You were just glad you had a friend like Jimin who would take his time to organize random hangouts now and then, just for the sake of it.

And so after not meeting for around two full months, all of your schedules finally lined up. It also happened to be the first time in forever that Jin introduced someone new to your group, a girlfriend.

“Honestly, I thought you’d die alone.” Taehyung said nonchalantly.

“Just because you were voted most handsome student that one time in college, doesn’t mean you get to say shit like this…” Jin said, clearly annoyed, which only resulted in laughter from everyone.

“You’re just butthurt you weren’t the one who won.” Taehyung smirked and took a sip of his cola.

“Cut it off guys, you’re scaring poor Wendy here.” You said, smiling at the girl sitting next to Jin. “Don’t worry, we’re not always like this.”

“She has to get used to it one way or another, she’s dating the most annoying one in our group after all!” Jimin said while snickering.

“I swear I’m going to murder you all…” Jin groaned. The girlfriend next to him only giggled.

“Man, I wish I wasn’t so single.” Nayeon puffed her cheeks and sighed. “It’s gonna be Christmas soon too.”

You nodded. “Relatable.”

“Aren’t you and Yoongi used to date though?” Jimin suddenly said.

The guy who was only quietly sipping his coffee, suddenly straightened his posture. “I heard my name mentioned.” Yoongi said.

“Oh my god… it was just silly thing we did to have a prom date!” You whined. “Right, Yoongi?” You looked at the guy, searching for validation. You earned a shrug from him.

“I wanna know the details!” Wendy suddenly said with excitement.

“We were both dumb and had never dated anyone before. It was more of a play date kind of thing.” You replied, looking at Yoongi again in hope that he would back you up.

“I was the one who suggested it, the fomo was getting to me seeing Taehyung date left and right. Look at how that turned out for him though…” Yoongi simply said. The mentioned guy could be heard protesting in the background.

“I always wonder,” Nayeon tapped her chin in a comical way. “Did y’all ever kiss or something?”

“Eww, never!!!” You cringed, while the others laughed. “We dated for two weeks in total because just holding hands made us gag.”

“Not gonna lie, I could picture it. The two of you would look cute.” Wendy commented with a playful smile.

“Lord… trust me, we don’t.” You shook your head at her.

“Hey, Yoongs!” Jimin called. “When was even the last time you went on a date?!”

“Contrary to popular believe I actually go on dates, excuse you.” The guy rolled his eyes, taking another sip of his coffee.

“I hardly believe that. We don’t need to count Y/N here, okay???” Jimin chuckled.

And that was how Yoongi became grumpy the entire ride back home. He gave you a ride because your house was in the same direction and you were just too lazy to deal with the busy street on a Saturday night. The moment you stepped inside the car, the guy was already complaining. With some time to kill, you decided to stop at a drive thru for some ice cream and chit-chats.

“They really need to mind their own business.” Yoongi said, still vexed.

“I’m sure they were just joking.”

“Do I really look like a loser?!”

“You don’t.” You quickly replied.

He sighed. “Sorry, it’s just that it’s been a while and I suddenly feel self conscious.”

“Aww, Yoongi…” You cooed. “Is there someone in mind though?”

“Not really.” He said with a straight face.

“What’s it like anyway? Your ideal type and all…” You turned your body to face his side, lifting your feet a little bit.

“Uh… I guess I like someone who has no filter and just chill.”

“What about appearance?”

“You sound oddly excited.” He side eyed you.

“I’m just curious! Plus you never really talked to me about this and we’ve been friends for years.”

“Hmm… let me think.” He tapped his thigh, wondering. “Nah, I think I couldn’t care less.”

“I find it hard to believe that…” You squinted your eyes. “Men are visual beings.”

“Do not generalize!” He eyed you again.

“Is it someone like Minjoo? Cause I remembered her being very pretty.” You didn’t know why you were whispering.

“That was such a long time ago.” He shook his head.

“Hey, I heard that apparently your first relationship supposedly shapes your ideal type.” You shrugged.

“So it’s you then.”

Your eyes widened. He really had to say it with the blankest looking expression. The honesty of this man really blew your mind sometimes.

“Oh, shut up! That doesn’t count!!!” You protested.

He only chuckled, clearly finding your reaction amusing.

“Is Minjoo your first kiss?” You whispered again, wiggling your eyebrows.

“This topic has clearly shifted from wanting to help me out to full blown interrogation.” He folded his arms and closed his eyelids. “No, she was not.”

You dramatically gasped. “The drama!”

“I think my first kiss was in uni and neither of us were sober at that time so it doesn’t really matter.” He scoffed.

“Damn, I was gonna ask how’s your first kiss like, only for you to say that. I’m sorry, I guess.” You sighed with a teasing smile on your face.

“What’s yours like?” He asked.

“It was sweet actually.” You smiled as you reminisced through the memory. “Both of us were really shy and I think we kissed under a tree. It was some real k-drama shit.” You laughed. “It’s kinda embarrassing now that I think of it…”

“Must be nice.” He nodded a few times. “To be quite honest with you, I don’t even know if I’m a good kisser.”

You raised your hand and high-fived him. “Surely that’s not something we should be proud of.” You giggled. “Like, how does one incite a first kiss? Hell, how does one incite a kiss in general???”

“I’m pretty sure you just go for it, don’t need to think much.” He laughed. “Worst case scenario you get rejected.”

“This conversation started with me wanting to help you with your insecurities to then giving me an insecurity! Now I’m worried about my kissing skill!!!” You whined.

“You think you might be rusty? If you’re rusty, then what am I?!” He grinned.

“Should we just practice kissing?”

The car suddenly went silent. It was no help that the radio volume was playing at almost the lowest volume. The sentence just flashed through your mind and you let it out without thinking of it twice. In your head, it would be way weirder to ask someone random or even someone you romantically interested in to indulge in the idea. He was your friend, a very close one too. He was in fact, just Yoongi. It should not be weird, right?

Yoongi’s lips turned into a big O shape. “I’m sorry, what?!”

“I mean, in what other situation can you just ask a person to practice kiss with you. Any other situation would be too embarrassing. We’re just friends that want to test something out!”

“You sure it wouldn’t be weird?” Yoongi raised one of his eyebrows.

“I think so?” You looked at him skeptically.

“No take-backs.” He warned you.

“Roger that.” You nodded. “Do we just… uh, how do we???”

Instead of replying, he just softly brought you closer. The space in between the car seat was making it a bit tricky, but his hand smoothly pulled you by the back of your neck. And your lips met, just like that. Both of you let it linger for a few seconds, before you felt his lips moving, so automatically, your response was to mimic his movement.

“Stick your tongue out for me.” He said between the kiss.

“Oh, you’re giving directions now?”

You pulled back, smirking at him before leaning back in. You did as told and soon found both of your tongue dancing, intertwining with each other. You couldn’t help but to giggle every now and then, breaking the kiss as you did, but each time Yoongi would reach for your lips back on his. You could feel him smiling through it, maybe he wanted to giggle along with you too.

After what felt like forever, you both pulled away, mostly due to the awkward angle making your back ache a little bit.

“That was… something.” You chuckled, fingertips holding your lips as you still couldn’t believe what happened.

“That was not so bad…” He breathed out and grinned.

“I think so too.” You giggled. “It’s just kinda funny though, I’m sorry I kept laughing.”

“It’s okay, it’s kinda cute to be honest.”

Sometimes you hated how frank your friend could be, because this was the kind of stuff he just blurted out without thinking, and it was messing with your head.

“So… what do we do with this information?” You looked at him, feeling your face flushed.

“Nothing, I suppose.”

It was just a week after when you receive a text from Yoongi, asking if by any chance you were free after work. You were not sure what he wanted to say that was so important to the point that he had to tell in person immediately. You soon found out why.

“I have a date tonight.”

He said, standing right in front of your door that you just closed right after welcoming him in. It was raining and the black hoodie he was wearing was slightly damped after running from the parking lot, adding to the dramatic effect. It looked like he was shivering ever so slightly, you just had the tiniest urge to hug him to make sure he was warm.

“Huh?” You gaped. “With who??? I didn’t know you were close with someone?!��

“I downloaded bumble a few days ago. It was Taehyung’s idea.” He cut your question short.

You folded your arms, wanting to tease him but no words came up. You couldn’t exactly pin point as to why you felt almost disappointed upon hearing the news. “Congrats? You could just call me or text me.”

“What if I kiss her at the end of the date?”

Your eyes widened as you started to get some ideas. Or you could just be one hell of a pervert if that was not the case.

“I need your feedback… and consent.” For the first time in a while, you saw nervousness in Yoongi’s face. He kept fiddling with the ring he had in his middle finger. He cleared his throat before popping a question slash offer to you.

“Can we practice again just for a bit?”

In short, Yoongi ended up ditching the date and spent the whole night making out with you on the couch. He never asked or mentioned anything about the alleged date afterwards, just silently watched the tv you had on as you leaned on his shoulder.

The first time was odd, but it was odd in a cute and endearing way. But the second one was intense. If you were giggling mid kissing before, this time you were holding down your voice, trying to not make any weird noise. When he bit your lower lip, did he remember the fact that both of you were just friends?

At this point you were both experts in kissing. At least in your case that was what you would like to believe. It had been going on for weeks and it was turning into a habit that you found yourself guilty on too. It was just too easy to keep coming back to him, asking the silly question. It appeared to be the same for him as well. He never refused. Kept coming back to you as well.

None of you ever addressed anything, not that you thought it would matter anyway. It would be a lie to say that you didn’t enjoy this, because clearly, you were addicted at this point. You just could not bring yourself to stop. Any chance you get to be alone with him, your lips would find each other almost as instantly. It would always just end like that though, a kiss, a make out sesh. Never more, never less.

With Christmas just around the corner your friends were starting to plan getaways, dinners, parties, and other possible options. You? You were just thinking of how to sneak and shower Yoongi with smooches. It was getting unhealthy and you were completely aware, but oh well.

Came twenty fourth of December. It was snowing and surroundings were looking festive. With everyone having days off from work, it was decided that renting a cabin and spending the night there sounded perfect to all of you.

Wendy and you were in charge of the Christmas tree, while Jin and Taehyung being the taller ones in the group, were assigned for decorations that acquired more height. Yoongi could be seen trying to set up the fireplace, as Jimin and Nayeon set up the food and snacks.

“Done!” Wendy clapped her hands happily as both of you finished the tree with a star on top.

“We should take a picture together with the tree!” Nayeon exclaimed.

All of you started to scoot, preparing your poses as Nayeon grabbed her phone and put it on a table after setting the camera timer. When she ran back to quickly join the rest of you, you suddenly felt Yoongi’s arm coming from your back, pulling you closer to him. A big grin was plastered on his face. Normally, you wouldn’t bat an eye to that, you had been friends for years and years. So you weren’t so sure why it made you malfunction for a second when you felt his fingertips brushing your shoulder. Thankfully, you had enough time to look up back at the camera to make an appropriate expression.

Two board games and one boring christmas movie later, most of you were sleepy, if not a little bit tipsy. Taehyung started taking sips of Jimin’s coffee he found in the fridge, that was when you knew that man was drunk. While Jin and Wendy had already head upstairs to their room, Nayeon and Jimin were sitting on the carpet while you and Yoongi on the couch, with this weird gap between the two of you.

“I heard the bumble dates went well.” Taehyung said, as he occupied the empty space between you and Yoongi.

Your head immediately jerked to your left side, looking at both Yoongi and Tae. Didn’t he ditch the date? “Oh, you actually went to the date?”

Yoongi looked at you, with yet again another unreadable expression. He was about to open his mouth but the other guy beat him to it.

“Did he show you her photos? The girl looks hot!” Taehyung exclaimed eagerly.

“Our Yoong-yoong finally went on a date?” Jimin looked up with a curious smile.

“Oooh, spill the tea!” Nayeon joined.

“It was only one date.”

You froze. So he did go to the date and he never told you a single thing. You were not sure how to feel or how to react regarding the news, but you felt betrayed.

“She’s not a catfish or anything, right?” Taehyung asked, scooting closer to Yoongi.

“She’s not.”

“Nice.” Taehyung nudged the man. “Are y’all going on another date or something?”

“I don’t think—“

“You better be!” Tae cut the guy short again. “Come on, you need this. You need to at least get laid.” He laughed.

“Hey, maybe let’s not pressure the guy like that…” Nayeon said to Taehyung.

“Let’s just celebrate the fact that Yoongi just went on a date.” Jimin chuckled.

You tried your best to not look like the conversation bothered you in any way. “Told you, you have nothing to worry about.” You said to him with a smile.

Yoongi was only silent and soon the topic changed.

The next morning you woke up very early, but most likely due to the fact that you could barely catch any snooze. You decided to make yourself a cup of tea and sat on the front porch, enjoying the cold morning air and the falling pieces of snow.

You started getting teary. You could be still sleepy, maybe it could also be the hormones acting up. It’s about time of your PMS, judging by the date, but you were not certain. What made you so upset about? You should be thrilled that your friend who you wanted so badly to get his confidence back, finally went on an actual date.

Not even seconds later that your mind started to wander at a possibility of him kissing another person, then you started tearing up again.

Sooner or later you needed to accept the cold hard truth. Jealousy was a knife.

“Isn’t it cold out there?”

You looked back, surprised to see Yoongi closing the front door behind. He took off his gloves and placed it on your lap.

“It’s fine, the tea is warm.” You reasoned.

“I don’t feel that cold.” He said, taking the seat next to you. “Why are you up so early?”

“Could ask the same to you.” You said after putting on the gloves. It was slightly bigger and your heart raced at the thought.

“Can’t sleep.” He chuckled, running his fingers through his hair. “You?”

“Same.” You realized you hadn’t looked him in his direction the whole time.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

You were taken aback by the sentence, but still chose to look straight at the scenery in front of you. “About what?”

“The date.” He sighed. “Actually, I only went because I felt bad that we already agreed on a time and place but I cancelled on her in such short notice before. She actually turned out to be really nice and we hung out for a bit…”

You felt sick listening to it, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything, instead you just nodded along.

“She asked me for a second date but I refused.”

This time you looked at him. “Why? Didn’t you say that she turned out to be really nice?”

“That day after I took her home, we almost kissed… I backed away because out of nowhere I just saw your face.” He sighed, followed by a nervous chuckle. “She’s nice…” He looked away, rubbing his neck awkwardly. “But she isn’t you.”

What?

“Yoongi, I don’t understand…”

“I don’t either, but I can’t bring myself to kiss anyone else other than you.” He looked at you with a genuine expression. “Can’t imagine you kissing anyone else either, it kills me.”

It had been the same case for you too.

“I actually feel the same way.” You let out a relieved chuckle, feeling a huge weight lifted off your shoulders. “What does this mean for us now?”

He smiled, so wide that your heart melted seeing the sight. He took your right hand and intertwined his fingers with yours. You felt your cheeks warmed up, and a giddy smile curved your lips. This definitely was different from how you felt back in the day.

“You good?” He asked with a big gummy grin.

“It doesn’t feel weird like how it was when we fake dated.” You giggled.

He smiled and held your cheek with his hand, while the other still holding yours. Midway through leaning in, he stopped and straightened his gaze at you.

“I like you, if that’s not clear by now.”

“I know.” You giggled, blushing.

He quirked his eyebrow. It seemed like he was not too pleased with you not saying the magic words back to him. He might need to kiss you first to earn it and that was the idea that Yoongi could definitely get behind.

Oh you could already imagine the chaos when your friends finally found out about this whole rollercoaster of a story.

Thank you for reading! 🖤

#bts fanfic #bts fic #bts scenarios #yoongi fanfic #yoongi scenarios #yoongi fluff #min yoongi #yoongi x reader #yoongi x y/n #suga x reader #suga imagine #yoongi imagine #suga scenarios

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lacroixqueen · 4 months ago

Text

i can fix him no really i can (18+, dubcon) ex bf deadpool x down bad reader

Summary: your ex boyfriend deadpool shows up at your apartment after many years and he's badly hurt so you need to help him but he also wants to fuck you because he's toxic :/

Pairing: ex bf deadpool x fem!reader with unresolved feelings

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings/Tags: dubcon, making out, flirting, wounded, angsty

It was Friday night, so naturally, it was pouring rain outside. You were already snuggled up in bed with a bowl of popcorn and your favorite movie locked and loaded ready to play. Until you realized exactly what this perfect evening was missing: ice cream. You quickly got up out of bed and moseyed your way into the kitchen.

Before you could swipe your favorite gelato from the top shelf, you heard a loud crash emanating from your living room window. You froze in your steps for a moment, and then grabbed the largest kitchen knife you could find in your vicinity.

Inching your way towards the noise, you were about to swing your weapon at the intruder before a nearby lamp flickered on and you laid eyes on a face you could recognize from a mile away.

“Holy fuck, put that shit down!” the assassin in all red and black exclaimed, taking the knife out of your hand with ease.

“Wade?!” you said, placing your hands on your hips. “What the hell are you doing here? I haven’t seen you in what, five years?”

“Great to see you again too, sweetheart,” he replied, noticeably clutching the lower part of his abdomen. “I just thought I’d swing by and say hi.”

“Wade, you are bleeding,” you pointed out, rushing to his side. “What the heck even happened to you?”

“Don’t worry about it too much,” he muttered through gritted teeth, sliding his arm over your shoulder, which immediately caused your back to tense up. “But if you want the short version of the story, let’s just say I pissed off someone who had a giant sword for an arm. Like, he drove that shit through my fucking brain! It’s okay though, I’ll get him back for that one of these days, he’ll see.”

“Oh my god,” you sighed as you guided him to sit down on your couch. “Just.. don’t go anywhere. I’m gonna grab some stuff real quick.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it!” he chuckled playfully. “Also, did you do something new with your hair? I love it. It’s like your old color but just subtly different. Hey, did you like tone it? Was it that salon next door? Because their cut and color deal is to die for.”

“Stop doing that,” you shot back, ambling over to your first aid cabinet.

“Stop doing what?” he said with a feigned innocence.

“You know what,” you responded bluntly, pulling out a set of tweezers, gauze, and saline.

“What, flirt with you?” Deadpool asked, sitting up a little bit more enthusiastically now. “Honey, we’ve been broken up for a long time, do you seriously think I would pick this moment to hit on you? Because you would be sorely mistaken. I am happy to report that I am 100% completely over our relationship and have moved on to bigger better things in life like car sales and snorting cocaine with Blind Al. Oh, she said she misses you by the way.”

“Your timing has never been impeccable,” you commented, kneeling before him with your wound care supplies. Before he could protest, you parted his legs open and rested your forearms on his thighs. This was making him blush harder than he would ever care to admit to you. “Now can you lift your suit up for me, please.”

“We’ve barely caught up for five minutes, and you want me to strip for you already?” Wade chirped, placing a melodramatic hand on his chest. “I mean, I’m all for it but aren’t we moving a little bit fast here?”

“You’re doing it again..” you sighed while shaking your head. “Can you just please not make this more awkward than it already is?”

He grumbled a bit before finally lifting up his suit, revealing a sizable gash slightly to the side of his V-line. There were multiple shards of glass embedded into the wound, glistening menacingly in the dim lighting of your living room.

“Holy shit, Wade,” you breathed while laying out your instruments. “What the hell have you gotten yourself into this time?”

“Look, maybe I pissed off an intergalactic space fascist or two,” he mumbled while shrugging his shoulders. “But who’s counting? Besides, the next time I get my hands on that freak I’m going to gut him from the inside out and make him eat it. Ooh, that would be satisfying, it’s making me so hard right now.”

“Always the pacifist,” you murmured sarcastically, taking your tweezers and dislodging one of the largest glass shards from his wound. “Have you ever considered, oh I don’t know, volunteering at the soup kitchen? Being a contributing member of your community? It doesn’t always have to be about bashing people’s faces in.”

“Jesus fucking shit on a stick motherfucker! Fuck!” he yelled as you removed the glass piece. “What kind of archaic method was that? At least numb me up first? Or I don’t know, buy me dinner?”

“Oh don’t be such a little bitch. If you wanted anesthetic, you could have just gone to the urgent care across the street,” you said matter-of-factly. “Besides, this isn’t exactly a professional clinic.”

Wade’s breathing became heavier when he noticed your soft tits pressing up against his leg as you focused harder on prying out a stubborn shard of glass. And how your lips curled into an adorable little pout when you were extra concentrated on something.

“You know, this would be the perfect opportunity to give me head right now,” he said with a smirk under his mask. “Like, you could not be in a better position.”

You tried to ignore his lewd statement, focusing on removing the smaller shards of glass in his wound. You gasped when you felt his leathered hands reach into your hair, gathering the locks between his fingers to form a ponytail.

“Wade!” you groaned, immediately setting down your tweezers. “I said stop, so quit it.” You shook his hands out of your hair, re-directing your attention back to his injury.

“Oh, but you always looked so hot doing it!” he reminisced, clasping his hands together like some dazed fangirl. “And you were amazing! Like, took the entire length, it’s like you didn’t even have a gag reflex! I’ve never seen anything like it. Oh, and you always swallowed without me even having to tell you. Do you know how rare of a find that is? Because I haven’t gotten head that good since the day we broke-”

“One more word out of your mouth and I’m literally not going to help you anymore,” you interrupted, staring him dead in the eye, which was quite effective at shutting him up.

You finally removed the last piece of glass, working a bit more efficiently now that he is not constantly interjecting with his fantasies about you.

“Aaand, all done!” you said, tucking the debris into a wad of gauze. You cleaned the wound with some saline and covered it with a large bandage. “Yay, that actually wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be.”

“Well of course, I’m literally a self-healing mutant,” Wade replied, pulling his suit back down to cover his wound. “Someone has literally shot me in the head before, but here I am, still kicking!”

“But it’s not like you can just heal foreign bodies out of yourself,” you countered as you cleaned your bloodstained tweezers with some bleach and a cloth. “You would have been in pain for days if it weren’t for me.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t get too ahead of yourself,” he sneered. “But thank you sweetheart, that actually did get me out of a pinch. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a big ugly bad guy to send back to his dimension, and time is money, so I really should get out there before he blows up another building downtown or God forbid beheads a baby or something.”

“Nope, you are going to stay right here,” you established as you closed the lid of your first aid kit. “Because I’m not gonna have you come back here multiple times again throughout the night and me not sleeping at all.”

“Wow, so now you’re just being a selfish bitch!” Wade said, crossing his arms over your chest. “Did you hear that, innocent bystanders? She could give less of a fuck if the world was set ablaze the next morning because I wasn’t there to stop it!”

“Oh, the world will be just fine,” you stated. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I am going to go to bed and you are going to sleep on the couch-”

As you got up, your stance wobbled a bit and you found yourself collapsing face forward onto Wade’s lap, your lips just barely brushing against his mask. You grasped onto his shoulders out of instinct, steadying yourself.

“Ohhh I see what you’re doing here!” the assassin called out. “You want me to stay so badly because you are just a horny little slut who can’t get enough of me! Well that’s no problem at all, because I am actually completely open and willing to do this, just know that my hard lines are scat, vomit, and furry. I don’t know why I can’t get into those animal costume things by the way, just something about the eyes..”

“I don’t want to sleep with you tonight, Wade Wilson,” you said, enunciating every single word. “I just.. lost balance.”

“Uh huh, ‘lost balance’,” he repeated, making air quotes with his fingers, his gaze not wavering. “Well if that’s the case, why don’t you kiss me and not do anything else? Since you’re so certain.”

“I’m not kissing you either,” you snapped, gasping a bit as you felt his hands slide over the curve of your waist, tugging gently at the fabric of your cami.

“You’re just saying that because you know if you did you wouldn’t be able to resist doing more,” he accused, voice darkening all of a sudden. He lifted up his mask to reveal just his lips. “So kiss me, Y/N. Since you’re sooo not attracted to me like that anymore.”

You sighed a bit as you felt the tips of his lips brush against yours, his hot breath entering your mouth, almost inviting you to lean in closer. You also realized you were never one to back down from a challenge. You went ahead and wrapped your arms around his neck, rolling your hips into his. You tilted your head slightly to the side, allowing a couple strands of hair to fall down your face.

So you kissed him, your soft pouty lips blending seamlessly with his bruised, callused mouth. He was hungry, voracious for you even, wanting you so desperately as he pushed his tongue into you. And you allowed him to. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you even closer towards his body as you kissed him back. Your tongue twirled against his, a little whine escaping from your lips as he broke the kiss momentarily to catch his breath.

He grasped one of your bloodstained fingers, and sucked his own blood off of them, licking his lips mischievously after.

“W-wait, Wade, stop..” you gasped, leaning back a bit once you felt his hand sneak over your taut stomach and grasp your neck firmly. “I-I can’t do this.”

“Aw, but we were getting so into it babydoll,” Wade whined, his grip tightening a bit around your neck before finally releasing you. “What happened? Are you getting cold feet because you remembered I’m so good at it?”

“No, it’s just I can’t catch feelings for you again,” you admitted, unclasping your hands from over his shoulders. “I don’t like it when I get like this with you.”

You stood up from the couch and turned your back to him, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Ugggghhhh you always get so dramatic like this,” he said, standing up to follow right behind you. “I promise you it’s not that serious. Think of it like this: just two people fooling around and then calling it a night. We don’t have to get into all that messy bullshit from the past if you don’t want to. We could just.. What’s the word my therapist says all the time.. Oh! Compartmentalize. Yeahhh that’s it. You know, you get really good at shit like that when you watch multiple people you care about die in front of you, it’s pretty great.”

“But it’s not that simple Wade, I can’t just..” you sighed as he wrapped his arms over your torso, pressing his chest tightly against your back. He slightly lifted up the bottom of your cami, playing with the top of your panties that peaked out of your shorts. “Please.. don’t do this to me.”

“What, this?” he asked before sliding his tongue over your exposed neck, still playing with the top of your lacy panties and twisting the little bows around his fingertips. “Love these by the way, are they new?”

“St-stop..” you stammered, breath quickening as he rolled up your tank top to eventually reveal your delicate bralette, which accentuated your cleavage perfectly. You felt his hot breath splash against your shoulder as he panted at the sight of your body gradually revealing itself to him.

“Wow, you look even better than I remember!” he commented, playing with the little ribbon in the center of your bra. He used the palm of his gloved hand to rub aching, undulating circles over your toned stomach. “Have you been working out? And by the way, love the statement piece, it goes really well with what you have under too! Ugh, I love when you wear a matching set for me, which reminds me, remember that gorgeous lingerie you had on that one Valentine’s day? I still can’t get it out of my head! Oooh, do you still have it? Because if so I would love to uh, borrow it for a few days if you don’t mind?”

You broke away from him, stepping towards your bedroom door, back still faced to him. “I have to go to sleep now,” you said, trying to conceal how flushed your cheeks were getting in the dim lighting. “You can use the sofa but please be gone by morning.”

You twisted the handle to enter your bedroom and slammed the door behind you. You pressed your back against the cold wood, trying to regulate your breathing by counting numbers and steadying yourself by grasping your dresser while the room spun.

“Welp, at least I tried,” you overheard Wade mutter nonchalantly. He stepped over to your living room window, unclasped the locks, and disappeared out into the night. Like it was just another pit stop in the evening for him.

Eventually, you found yourself back in bed, staring at the ceiling as your heart continued to pound against your chest. You tossed and turned the entire time, wide awake, until eventually, you couldn’t take it anymore and had to find some relief.

So you regrettably, masturbated to the thought of him, legs shaking underneath your sheets while you clasped your hand over your mouth. This was something you did way more often than you care to admit. And only then was sleep able to reward you.

#deadpool #deadpool 3 #deadpool and wolverine #wade wilson #deadpool x reader #deadpool x you #deadpool x y/n #wade wilson x reader #wade wilson x you #wade wilson x y/n #marvel jesus #marvel #mcu #marvel movies #marvel cinematic universe #marvel mcu #marvel comics #the avengers #avengers endgame

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breezeflows · 5 months ago

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The Long Road (Stanford Pines x Reader)

Chapter 4

Y’ALL THIS ONE WAS/IS A ROUGH ONE. I had a lot of writers block with this chapter, but I think I finally accomplished fitting in everything I wanted it to have! Also just for clarification, a lot of things that happened in this chapter will be discussed more thoroughly in future chapters! (Aka Ford’s perspective.) Thank you everyone so much for your patience and continued support!! With that, here is absolutely gut wrenching chapter 4!!

Also, last thing I promise, if you want to be added to the tag list, just comment!

Themes: Lying, Arguments, Strong language, Lotsss of bottled up emotions, Fiddleford gets traumatized by the portal, Ford over prioritizing Bill and his work over sleep/his wife etc, all the fun stuff! This chapter is very sad! But we will finally be back to the present in chapter 5!

You found yourself waking in the late afternoon, your bags now packed and in hand as you make your way out of Lizzy’s apartment. And although you were a nervous wreck to return home and confront Ford about last night’s events, you were also happy at the thought you’d be sleeping in your own bed tonight. You were hopeful that Ford would have a good explanation. Maybe he was drunk out of his mind, due to your absence, or maybe Fiddleford brought the two of them there after a breakthrough in their research. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

You keep your thoughts running as you settle into the passenger seat of Lizzy’s car. Your mind is a flurry of hope, worry, and anxiety as you mull over all the different possibilities of what happened last night.

Lizzy hops into the driver’s seat, her gaze flickering over to you as she senses your nerves.

“Hey,” she says softly. “Everything will be okay, alright? I’m sure Ford has a good explanation for everything. At least, he better.”

You let out a nervous sigh, once again fiddling with your wedding band as you try to steady yourself.

“I hope so,” you murmur, eyes drifting out the window as Lizzy kicks the vehicle in motion. “I really don’t know what I’ll do if he doesn’t.”

Lizzy places a sympathetic hand on your shoulder, giving it a squeeze.

“Let’s just focus on getting there for now, okay? Try not to imagine any worst-case scenarios until we actually talk to him.”

You give a small nod as she drives, the world outside becoming a blur of trees and late afternoon sun.

6:00 PM.

With a final turn down the gravel path, you arrive at the place you consider home, the cabin. The familiarity of your surroundings should be relieving, yet you find yourself on edge, tugging down on the beanie that rested against your head.

You unclip your seatbelt as the car hauls to a stop, Lizzy turning to give you a reassuring smile.

“I’ll drive around closeby.” she says. “In case things go, you know, not so great.”

You nod softly, thanking her as you grab your bags from the backseat, stepping out of the car. The gravel under your feet crunches with each step, your heart beating rapidly in your chest.

Taking a deep breath, you make your way to the front door of your home, a nervous hand twisting the knob and pushing it open. As you step foot into the familiar space, you’re surprised to find Ford in the living room. He’s seated on the couch, working on what seemed to be some sort of gadget on the coffee table.

He looks up as you enter, his expression casual with a hint of excitement.

“You’re back!” He states as he stands, approaching you with a warm smile.

You swallow hard, clutching your bags tightly as you regard him warily.

“I missed you, how was your trip? There’s so much I have to tell you, Fiddleford and I had a major breakthrough this weekend!”

Ford’s words are light and pleasant, and he looks genuinely happy to see you. A stark difference from how he was the night before. He steps closer to you, looking as if he’s about to pull you into an embrace, but you take a step back, releasing your bags from your grip.

Ford’s smile falters for a brief moment, a flicker of confusion in his eyes.

“Is something wrong?” he asks, his voice laced with concern.

“Where were you last night?”

He seems taken aback by your blunt question, a brow raised as he rubs the back of his neck.

“Ah… well I was here, working with Fiddleford, like I said.” he replies, gesturing to the gadget on the table. “Why do you ask?”

Your heart twists in your chest as you clench your fists, frown adorning your lips.

“Is that all..?”

Ford looks perplexed by your question, his eyes filled with concern as he takes a step towards you, his expression growing increasingly more confused and worried.

“What do you mean? Where else would I have been?”

You go to speak, but falter, looking down at the floor as you hold your elbow sheepishly.

“Nevermind.. It’s nothing, sorry.”

Ford pauses, his concern only deepening as he watches you avoid his gaze. He takes another step closer, his voice gentle.

“Y/N, please tell me what’s wrong,” he says, reaching out to touch your arm.

“You’ve been acting strange ever since you came through the door… Did something happen? You can talk to me.”

You swallow hard, before looking up to meet his gaze.

Ford’s expression is genuine, his grip on you squeezing gently as you gaze at him for a moment. This Ford was a huge contrast to whoever you had talked to last night, this was the man you knew and adored. Maybe you and Lizzy really did have too much to drink, and you mixed it all up with some other guy? It seemed too coincidental, but the way Ford was acting now made you second guess everything. He seemed totally unphased, and there wasn’t a single thing about his tone that would lead you to believe he was lying. This was still your husband, after all.

You shovel all of your thoughts and suspicions down as you sigh, placing a hand over the one he had rested on your arm.

“It’s nothing, I promise,” you say, cracking a soft smile as you lean into him. “I just missed you a lot. It’s good to be home.”

Ford’s eyes soften at your words, and he pulls you closer to him, gently enveloping you in his arms. He holds you close, one hand rubbing soothing circles on your back.

“I missed you too,” he murmurs, his voice soft and gentle. “More than you know.”

Your ears and cheeks turn red at his words as he pulls away, just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes searching yours for a moment before he speaks.

“So, you uh, need help with your bags?”

A soft blush covers Ford’s cheeks as you smile once more, your hand reaching to cup his cheek, thumb grazing the skin underneath.

“Sure, although I wanna hear everything you wanted to catch me up on while I unpack.”

If somehow possible, Ford’s cheeks turn an even darker shade of pink as you touch his face, his gaze flicking down to your hand before coming back up to meet your eyes. He then clears his throat, voice slightly strained.

“Y-yeah of course,” he stammers, his hand coming up to rub the back of his head. “We can talk in the bedroom while you unpack.”

“Sounds like a plan.” you say with a chuckle, grabbing both of your bags and handing one to Ford, placing a quick peck to his cheek before pulling away.

A small, boyish smile appears on his lips at your gesture. He quickly takes the bag you handed him, keeping his eyes on you for a moment before looking down at your luggage in his hands.

He clears his throat once more, his voice betraying a hint of nervousness as he speaks.

“Right, let’s go then.”

Ford then begins to lead the way to the bedroom, you trailing along behind him.

As you both enter your shared room you begin to unpack your bags, Ford chatting away excitedly as he helps you with your things, pulling out your clean clothes and placing them in the closet.

You smile at his enthusiasm, but you can’t help but notice the bed as you unpack. The sheets are just how you left them, pillows fluffed and blankets tucked into the edges of the frame.

“Did you get any sleep while I was gone?” you ask, shutting a drawer after you’ve placed a pair of jeans inside.

Ford pauses mid-sentence in his excited explanation, faltering as his glaze flicks from the bed to yours.

“Uh, well… no, I didn’t,” he admits, his voice laced with a hint of guilt. “With all the work Fiddleford and I’ve been doing, I guess I just forgot about sleep.”

You frown deeply as he moves to continue helping you unpack, your arms falling to your sides.

“Ford..”

Ford pauses again, a flicker of guilt in his eyes as he senses your disapproving tone.

“Just promise me that you’ll at least come to bed tonight. Okay? I worry about you when you aren’t getting any rest.”

His expression softens, gaze full of guilt and affection meeting yours. He nods in agreement, a sheepish smile crossing his face.

“I promise.”

Over the following nights, Ford makes a point of coming to bed, holding true to the word he gave you the night you returned from Lizzys. However, the pattern you had desperately hoped for doesn’t last long. The old habits return quickly, Ford abandoning the bedroom in favor of work in the lab for days on end. Days soon turn into weeks, weeks into months, and so on. You find yourself lying alone in bed each night, your mind filled with anger and frustration. Sometimes, you’re kept awake by the bright flashes and rumbling from below. A part of you wanted to stomp down there and give him a piece of your mind, to leave him and this broken marriage behind, but another part of you yearned for Ford. You longed for the day you’d see him emerge from the lab instead of Fiddleford, or the day he’d prioritize you again. Even just a simple acknowledgement of your presence, other than “hello, how are you”, would do. You missed how things used to be. You missed him.

But the day never came.

You were too stubborn to be the first to break the now built-up tension, after all it was Ford’s fault the two of you were in this predicament anyway. At least that’s what you told yourself, feeding into the false hope that things were going to somehow magically improve.

The same cycle repeated itself, leaving you feeling helpless and abandoned.

Until one night.

You found yourself lying alone in bed yet again, your head laid on what was once Ford’s pillow, his scent no longer attached to the fabric. The sounds of the lab seem louder tonight as you toss and turn, grunting in annoyance. You glance towards the clock on your nightstand, the glowing numbers reading midnight. Frustration mounts within you, the lack of any attention whatsoever from Ford wearing you down.

Suddenly, an extremely loud whir from the lab forces you to sit upright, your heart pounding in your chest as your irritation gets the best of you. Finally, you’d had enough.

You throw back the covers in an aggressive motion, swinging your legs over the bed. You pad across the room, your bare feet touching the cold hardwood floor. Each step you take fuels the growing anger in you, your patience thinning.

Reaching the door, you pull on it, the sound of it creaking open adding to the building tension. With a huff, you step forward into the darkness and descend the stairway leading to the lab.

You press the button to the elevator harshly, stepping inside the metal contraption. As you descend further you hear the sound of faint yelling, along with a thud. Your stomach twists with frustration and anxiety, your mind reeling with possibilities of what the hell was going on down there.

Finally, the elevator doors slide open, revealing a blinding blue light behind the glass window of the lab. Your feet carry you quickly to the source, dashing through the entryway when all of a sudden, your shoulders are grabbed.

Your body stiffens as your eyes adjust to the lighting, revealing a disheveled Fiddleford in front of you. His fearful eyes search your panicked ones, his grip painfully tight.

“Fiddleford-”

“You’ve got to get out of here Y/N,” he states frantically, his voice shaky. “This machine will bring about the end of the world, it’s dangerous beyond comprehension. It should never see the light of day.”

The sound of your heartbeat fills your ears as you process his words. The seriousness in his voice and panicked look in his eyes were enough to send a chill down your spine. You take a moment, before stuttering out a few words.

“What? Machine? The end of the world..?”

Before you can finish your sentence, Fiddleford leaves in a rush, your frightened gaze moving to the source of the light.

In front of you stood what seemed to be some sort of portal, with your husband standing right below it.

You watch him as you stand there, dumbstruck by fear and confusion. You clench your fists before taking a firm step forward, swallowing dryly.

“Ford..?”

He stands with his back turned to you, mumbling something before yelling aloud.

“No, you know what… I don’t need anyone!”

Your legs tremble as you make your way towards him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Ford jumps violently at the contact, his head whipping around to face you. His gaze widening for a moment, before turning cold and harsh.

“What..? What are you doing down here Y/N?” He snaps, his tone sharp and defensive.

Your gut clenches at his tone, your eyes brimming with tears as you finally break.

“What the actual fuck, Stanford!” You yell, hands formed into fists as you hold them in front of you.

“What is this?! This.. this thing?!” You yell, pointing towards the portal.

“This is too fucking far!!”

Ford’s eyes narrow, his irritation growing apparent. He stands his ground, stepping towards you and jabbing a finger towards your chest.

“This?” he replies, gesturing to the portal. “This is my life’s work Y/N! Everything I’ve dedicated myself towards for decades! Something you wouldn’t even understand the significance of, even if I explained it to you!”

His words cut through you like a knife, tears now streaming warmly down your cheeks. You grab hold of his wrist roughly, jerking him towards you.

“No!” you yell, your grip unrelenting.

“This is some sort of doomsday device you abandoned EVERYTHING for! That you abandoned ME for!”

Your voice breaks with that last sentence, your teeth clenching as you attempt to stifle your pain.

“I’ve stuck with you through everything, Stanford! When you lost Stanley, during those horrible years in college, through this!” You say, pointing to him and then to yourself with your free hand. “When you’ve practically neglected me as your wife, all of it! I stayed with you because I’m in love with you, Stanford!”

Ford’s eyes soften at your words, a strong flicker of guilt in his expression as you list all the sacrifices you’ve made for him.

“But I can’t,” your voice trembles with each word, your grip on his wrist loosening to where it falls back to your side.

“Y/N…”

Every emotion you’ve bottled up until now weighs down on you, your heart racing in your chest.

“I can’t do this anymore.”

Your tearful gaze meets his, his heart aching at the sight.

Ford looks as if he’s been torn in two. Flashes of guilt, anger, and concern, all etching across his face as he stands there, desperately searching for the right answer. And although you never in a million years would intend for him to be put in this spot, he knows he has to choose. The person who devoted their everything to him, or everything he’s ever devoted himself to.

Ford stutters out his answer faster than he can think, sweat beading against his forehead.

“This isn’t,” he pinches the bridge of his nose, his expression heavily conflicted. “This is something monumental Y/N, something that could change the course of existence itself. I have to do this,” as Ford continues, you feel your heart snapping in two, your gaze lowering to the floor as you attempt to take in what he is saying.

“I have to finish what I started, Y/N.”

Your vision blurs with heavy tears as the two of you stand there in deafening silence.

Your expression is filled with pure distraught as you lift your head, your gaze meeting Ford’s. Although he doesn’t return it, his eyes glued to the ground with a solemn frown on his lips. Your lip trembles as you lower your head once more, standing there for a few moments before forcing yourself to turn away.

“Okay.”

Your legs feel heavy with each step, every part of you screaming at you to stay. But deep down you know you can’t, it was time for you to choose yourself for once.

So with that you trudge on, out of the lab and out of the cabin.

The cabin you once considered home.

Thank you for reading! I hope y’all like how this turned out :)

Tag list: @karmaisacatluzi @therottenheartofscum @catr4dora @slay-thou-pookie @wow-life-love4 @missgurlsstuff @violetvsworld @inquiit @mandossillyriduur @mokikow @phirbat

#gravity falls #stanford pines #gravityfallsxreader #stanford pines x reader #gravity falls fanfiction #ford pines x reader #the book of bill #gravity falls dipper #mabel pines #stanley pines #stanford pines x you #gravity falls stanford #thelongroad

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obsessednothing · 2 months ago

Text

Her

George Russell x fem!reader

Summary: being stood up by your fiancé a week before the wedding is something woman doesn’t want to go through in her life, ever

Warnings: nothing special maybe heartbreak, break up, curse words, cheating, no use of Y/N, one use of L/N

A/N: I really love Sex and the City movies, so this is basically inspired by the events from the first movie. My English is sometimes hot or not, so I’m sorry for any mistakes! Please don’t use my writing without my consent, also I don’t own any of the pictures! Enjoy.

“There’s no possible cancellation, miss. You need to come to the honeymoon vacation or it’ll expire.”

Yes, the word honeymoon. Woman without a man. The man who stood her up week before their wedding. It was all perfect, everything about their love. And yet, here she stood, single, heartbroken and humiliated in front of the suite for newlyweds that carried their names Mr. and Mrs. Russell. Out of all the girls from the grid family, Kelly was the one to be there for her. She packed her up and got her on this vacation, because she already payed a lot for this to be a surprise for George. One that he’d never forget, one with which she’d shown him how she loved him.

For two days straight she only slept. Kelly fed her a little with some fruits and yogurt from breakfast. It was painful to watch her close friend to suffer like this. She looked pale, her face puffy from all the crying, and her gaze was dull.

As the night fell on the resort in Mexico, Kelly picked up her phone, Max was FaceTiming her.

“Hey, babe. How is it going?” He asked with frown.

“Hey, love… please, promise me, that if you ever want to break up with me, don’t you dare to propose to me before that.” Kelly said in sadness.

“How is she?”

“It’s bad. She’s sleeping for second day already. You should see her face when she saw the name tags on the door… it was like a punch in the gut.”

“I’m really glad, that you’re there with her, Kells. She deserves the best. I must’ve restrain myself very hard to not punch George when I saw him at the paddock today.”

“Wait, what? He’s back at racing? I thought that he was supposed to get a break from all that stuff, like he said to her.”

“Don’t say it to her, but… There’s this woman with him here, like a shiny bracelet on him. Lando nearly threw up from the sight of them and everybody here is giving him a silent treatment.”

“Holy shit… this is a nightmare.”

“Yeah… keep her away from socials, she doesn’t need more heartbreak than she already received.”

“No probs, babe. I’ll keep her occupied and her phone is with me anyway and it’s turned off.”

“Okay, I’ll keep you posted. Take care, love you.”

———

Fourth day into vacation she got up from bed, surprising Kelly at the terrace for breakfast.

“Hi, K.” She said, her voice raspy from all the sleep.

“Ah, the sleeping beauty. How are you today, darling?” Kelly hugged her instantly.

“It’s strange, but good. I think the most of the hurt is gone. I know it’s not that simple, but today is good and I’m gonna enjoy it.” She softly smiled but her eyes spoke another story. Kelly gave her a sympathetic look as they talked through the breakfast.

“Max is wishing you well. He’s so worried about you.” Kelly said sipping on her coffee.

“Aw, thanks. He’s a good man, Kelly.” She smiled kindly with little sigh.

“Hey, don’t let your mood flatten, we’re here to have a good time, you’ve worked hard for this. So, we’re gonna make the most of it.” Kelly said with amused smile.

And they did. Girls nights, partying a little, spending afternoons at the pool and beach, some trips around the resort too. Two weeks went by like a click, when they stood at the airport waiting for Max’s private jet.

It was also first time after that weeks of freedom when Kelly gave her her phone back.

“It’s time to go back to reality and I know it’s gonna be hard, but we’re gonna do this. Don’t get those things get to your head. You’re you and you’re the most amazing human in this world.” Kelly reassured her.

She turned on the phone with her stomach churning. Millions of notifications of messages, emails and tags. In the tons of photos at the socials she noticed that one photo, that George posted. She felt like she’s gonna throw up. All the sickness was back, the pain in her chest too.

“Mi amore. Love you to the moon and back.”

George and his new girlfriend. She was so pretty, like a doll. And god, how he was glowing.

As they boarded the plane, Kelly noticed the turn in the her mood as she slipped her phone to her bag.

“I guess you found out, don’t you?” Kelly asked with frown.

“Y-yeah. I don’t know what to say, it’s driving me insane. And he’s back at racing, he just… he’s a fucking liar.” She was at the rage stage.

“It’s gonna be okay. We‘ll manage.”

———

And it was true. Kelly managed to get a people to pack her things out of their shared apartment with George, the first day they went on that vacation. She didn’t want to stay in Monaco, she wanted to go back home to London, where her flat was for rent. She was lucky that it was free in the moment.

Getting from the Heathrow airport was like a blur, feeling all the nostalgia from the surroundings and memories of her past life were everywhere. But it didn’t hurt as much as when she finally unlocked the door to her apartment, getting in the known scent and looking over the boxes there and there. All her life packed like it meant nothing. She was in no mood to start unpacking, because she was afraid to untangle the suppressed emotions. It was a job for her in the next months.

———

It was like six months after the called off wedding. She shut down her socials, getting herself a fresh start with private profiles with a few people following on them. Her main public profile was still up, she didn’t post any new photos, the last post there was a photo of her tasting the sweet cake for wedding with caption wedding vibes #therussells.

She turned her attention to the direction of self love, reconnecting with her old friends in London and little bit of vacations and mainly work. Her going to the Monaco was absolute no go, so when someone from her grid friends wanted to see her, they needed to visit. But they were more than glad. Nobody talked about George, it was her strict rule number one. She practically erased him from her life and mind.

Life just has a strange ways to make things a little crazy.

Sunny morning in London, she went to the café for her morning coffee. She liked to try new places. As she was on the phone working already, she ordered a waited for the cup of hot love.

George sat in the corner of this café, looking through the newspaper like a classic English gentleman. His life turned upside down for the last six months. He was now reminiscing all the things he had done and how he hurt people around him. Brushing another feeling of shame off of him, he looked up from newspaper and his eyes found her standing at the order counter. It was like some nasty dream, ripping his heart apart for another time. She stood there, talking over phone, smiling with her classy appearance. Thinking about the way he wanted to approach her, he tried not to look suspicious. He was the one, who made her life hell, betrayed her the worst.

She slid her phone to her purse, got her coffee and turned around to get out of the café, when she spotted George already staring at her. She was so taken aback by seeing him, that she bumped into the glass door. Hard. Feeling her head spinning and the blood running from her nose, coffee was everywhere on her skirt. People around her was at her immediately, helping her, but she was in some kind of trance.

“Excuse me, please. I need to get to her. Hey, are you okay?” George got through the crowd to her, his protective persona on, getting his white napkin to wipe her bloody nose.

“I-I’m not…” she said still in shock.

“I’m going to take you to the hospital, you may have broken nose.” George frowned in guilt because his presence caused this.

She only nodded, there was no place for denying it. George gave her reassuring squeeze to her shoulder and guided her to his car, which was parked outside on the street. Feeling his hand on her back and on her arm felt strange.

Ride to the hospital was quiet. She held the napkin at her nose, blood was slowly stopping pouring, and she was staring in front of herself, still processing what just happened. She felt her anger rising in her, how dare he shows in her life now, when she’s been on the good way of healing her wounds.

“Why are you here?” She mumbled slightly wincing in pain.

“There’s race in Silverstone this weekend.” He said taking the last turn to parking lot at the hospital. As he stopped the car, she put all her strength to get out from the car without his help.

“You can go, I’m gonna take care of myself.” She took quick steps towards the hospital.

“Wait! I’m not gonna let you handle this alone. I caused this, so let me take care of it.” He ran after her, softly grabbing her arm.

“At least please just don’t touch me, George.” She got out of his grasp still walking.

They were waiting for doctor to see her, while George wrote down the application for her. He stopped at the column about family status. Flagging it as married, he hoped that he would get access to information about her condition. She just signed it off not caring about anything. Her phone rang, it was Kelly. Oh god, they were supposed to meet today.

“Hi, Kells. I really can’t talk right now.” She tried to talk coherently but her lips started to get swollen from the crashing to the door.

“You sound weird, are you okay?” Kelly asked in concern.

“Yeah, I just bumped into the door at the café, hard, that I might have broken nose. I’m currently at the hospital.” She sniffled a little blood.

“What?! I’m getting there, we’re already in London!”

“No, no! Actually I’m not here alone.” She looked up at George.

“You’re full of surprises, girl. Is that the new man, you’re seeing?”

“No, it’s not him. It’s George.”

George was listening to her conversation and pinpointed the word him. Is she seeing someone new? Is she in love with him?

“Holy shit, what the fuck?!”

“Calm down, K. I can’t talk right now, all you need to know, that I’m okay. I’m gonna text you, bye.”

She sighed putting her phone to her purse.

The awkward silence between them lasted for a while.

“Is there- are you-“ he started to ask but it came out as a blurt.

“I’m not seeing anyone, if that’s what you want to ask. I’m just tired of questions if I’m still single, so I said to my friends that I’m working on my dating life. So no. I can’t love anyone after what you’ve done to me and you have this sick luck of hurting me still.” She said with sad sigh.

“I’m sorry.” He said plainly.

That was words she wanted to hear from him all this time. She met his gaze full of guilt.

“I’m so so sorry. I was just stupid and foolish, I really didn’t care about things I had around me, in my life. I was so ungrateful. And I hurt the most precious thing in my life. You. No words can mend the wounds I caused. I just want to make it up to you, so bad.” His eyes was glistening with tears as he talked sincerely.

She processed all the words he just said. Her heart broke again, but now for him. For the way how he talked, how he was honest. After that months of silence between them and his lies from the last conversation they had together.

“I forgave you. A while ago. I just didn’t understand those lies you told me. About you taking a break from everything we shared together, that it drowned you. And then I saw that post on the socials, you back at track with her.”

George felt pang in his chest, he was deeply ashamed of his actions. Before he could say anything else, nurse peeked from the doctors office calling her inside. She stood up and George assisted her.

“You’re her husband right? You can come inside too.” Nurse politely smiled.

She wanted to protest but George interrupted her. “Yeah, I am. Thank you.”

After getting some scans and check up, doctor said, that she doesn’t have broken nose, just little bruised and that in few days the swelling would be gone same as bleeding.

George took her to her apartment, helping her with everything she needed. Sitting on the couch with cup of coffee in her hands, he was in process of putting the cream on the bruise on her nose. She sat still her eyes closed. He took in her features, how she was still herself. The same woman he loved, and still loves.

“You’re supposed to be with her, not with your ex fiancée.” She said while opening her eyes to look at him.

“I’m not with her for some time now. As much as it was mesmerising, it wasn’t it. I had time to think about my mistakes. I was the number one asshole.”

“You were, that’s for sure. I was so mad at you, angry and pissed off. You just threw our lives we built together out of the window. We could’ve talk about that, I would understand anything. But not that huge heartbreak you put me through. I had a surprise honeymoon booked for you. And I went on it with Kelly, because it cost really so much money…” her eyes were filled with tears as she relived the memories of pain.

George looked down in shame, he was pained by his actions towards her. She truly loved him, deeply, she was always so caring and he was… him.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve talk to you more, not just tear you from me and destroy our life.”

Their conversation was interrupted by doorbell.

“That’s most likely Kelly and Max.” Grace said. George retreated from her as she stood up to get to the door. As she opened, Kelly hugged her immediately and Max looked through the space for George with mad look.

“How are you, love?” Kelly looked at her nose with frown.

“I’m good, Kells, really. George took care of me.” She softly smiled.

“Really? No doubt that he did.” Max looked with narrowed look at George, who stood in the doorframe to living room.

“I’m on my way out, I see that she’s in good hands.” George said plainly.

“In the best hands.” Kelly said with not amused look.

She sighed tired from all the tension.

“Take care.” George kissed her forehead lightly as he brushed off around them.

All three of them were looking at his figure until he disappeared in the elevator.

“How- what the actual fuck?” Kelly asked looking at her flushed face.

“Kells, please.” Max groaned at the word fuck.

She took them inside as she prepared some coffee for them.

“How was your flight?” She asked casually.

The duo looked at her in disbelief. “You just had your ex in your home and you’re asking us about flight?”

“Yeah and yeah?”

“Tell us everything!”

She sat in front of them in the armchair. “I was at the café this morning, you know, I like to try new places and he just happened to be there. I spotted him and I was so in shock, that I crashed to the glass door. He got me to the hospital, took care of everything. And he apologised for everything he put me through. He said that he was number one asshole.”

Max snorted as Kelly looked over him with stern look.

“And then you came and that’s it.”

“He kissed you. You’re okay with that?” Kelly asked sipping on her coffee.

“Why not?”

“Because he practically left you at the altar?”

“Oh that. I nearly forgot about that.” She gave her an sarcastic smile.

“You’re falling for his lies again.”

“No, I’m not. We just talked, he was nice. I deserved to know, what was on his mind and behind his actions. I can move on now.”

“Can you?”

The question was hanging in the space. She was sure, to this day, that she wouldn’t even lay her eyes on him. But it was all nice and she felt loved again. All the wrong things.

“Can you?” Kelly asked again.

“Fine! I don’t know!” She rolled her eyes.

“You’re unbelievable. He broke your heart, you were a mess. And now he’s messing with you again.”

“I know, I know all that. And I’m grateful for the care you have for me. But… it’s complicated.”

“It’s not. You love him.” Max interrupted them. Kelly gave him another look of disbelief.

“I’m not sure, I don’t know. I’m not ready for anything but it feels so close to home.”

“Jeez… just be careful. Anyway, it’s perfect timing really, because we wanted to get you to spent a weekend at Silverstone with us.” Kelly said with sour face, now her idea sounding not so perfect.

“I need to think about it. And I don’t know how this thing will turn out to appear.” She pointed to her bruised nose.

“You know the power of makeup, dear.” Kelly rolled her eyes.

“As much as I like you here with me I need some space right now.” She said with sigh.

“Just think about it and give me a call and we’ll manage it. You could use some fun around old friends.” Kelly said while she hugged her.

Max gave her reassuring smile as they walked into the elevator.

———

She took a shower as she thought about George. How his fingertips felt against her skin, his scent calming her down, how he looked at her with care and love, he was completely different. He looked like he was ready to die for her.

Then there was the other side. How she felt humiliated when he left her at the restaurant in Monaco with smile, ready for his new life.

How the ring on her left hand was somehow heavy.

Thoughts there and there, she needed to be honest with herself.

She loved him. Still. And truly. Even after all of this.

As she laid in bed scrolling through her phone, she got a call from unknown number.

“I have a package for you, is this Ms. L/N ?”

“Yes, that’s me.”

She went down to receive the mystery package. Back at the apartment, she opened it. There was VIP and paddock pass with her name, also she spotted a sticky note with handwriting.

“Just in case you want to have fun on the weekend. GR”

Her heart skipped a beat as she read those words. Snapping a photo of it she sent it to Kelly with comment I think the plans are clear for the weekend. Kelly answered with crazy emojis and comment I can’t wait.

She decided not to tell George that she’s actually coming, because he deserved a little silent treatment. He’s gonna need to win her heart back.

As the Saturday approached, she was already on her way to the paddock gates. The first she spotted her was Lando.

“Oh my god! Am I dreaming?” He nearly shouted as he hugged her tight.

She giggled happily. “No, this is real.”

Greeting with others went well as she arrived at the Mercedes hospitality, her stomach churning and turning in nervous way, reliving all the memories she had there. She got to chat with some people, which were surprised that she’s there. Nobody had the courage to ask her, why she’s there and she was glad.

Grabbing some coffee she stood outside on the little terrace looking at the Silverstone track. It was like coming back to home.

“You came.” The voice said behind her causing her to turn around. There stood George, wearing his Mercedes shirt and white pants along with kind smile.

“I thought that you not being sure if I’d come, would be a good treatment for you.” She sipped her coffee with a little smile.

“I absolutely deserve that.” He said coming to her side.

“I’m sorry about yesterday. Kelly and Max were there for me for all that shit you put me through. They’re worried.”

“I understand that. They’re really good friends. I’m grateful that they helped you through tough times.”

“I thought I’d never see this again.” She looked over the track.

“I thought I’d never see you here again.”

“I don’t want to poke in that hurtful things from past anymore. If anything, I want things from fresh start.”

“Again, I’m sorry. And I understand.”

“You know, it’s not like winning race to win my heart.”

“I’d likely do both.”

“We’ll see.”

She chuckled as she was enjoying messing with him.

“Good luck.” She smiled softly giving his arm a little squeeze as she walked out to find Kelly.

———

George got the pole position and she couldn’t be more proud. She fought that huge smile on her face as she noticed, how Kelly was watching her. Max took a second place.

She leaned against the frame of the entrance to the Mercedes garage, where George celebrated with everybody around him. Then he noticed her standing there and smiling proudly. Immediately he walked towards her getting her into his tight embrace while she giggled.

“You’re incredible, George.” She said laughing.

“You’re my lucky charm.” He said as he placed kiss to her hair. His embrace was warm and soft. All she missed that long.

“Please, just don’t let me go.” She whispered to his chest.

“I’m not gonna make that mistake ever again.”

#george russell x reader #george russell #george russell 63 #gr63 x reader #gr63 #gr63 x you #f1 x female reader #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #george russel imagine #formula 1

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bitchesuntitled · 5 months ago

Text

Lies, Excuses and Bullshit

Pairing: Exboyfriend!Dave York x f!Reader

Summary: A man with a double life willing to do anything to keep his obsession around, and a woman who doesn't know what she's gotten herself into.

Warnings/Tags: 18+ MDNI, go on get! Breaking up, creepy!Dave, infidelity, stalker behavior from Dave, oral(f receiving), spanking, unprotected PIV(make smarter choices), manipulation, and if there is anything I missed please let me know!

A/N: Phew, not sure what happened here. This is a first, I don't usually write darker stuff but something about Dave made it just fly out of my finger tips. This was written for @punkshort's AU August Challenge! Thank you Shortie for letting me be part of the challenge 😊 I need to shout out @beefrobeefcal @strang3lov3 @ozarkthedog and @mothandpidgeon thank you all for the encouragement and lending your eyeballs for this story! ❤️

@jay-zzle, my love, my bestie. This one is for you! 🥰❤️🥰❤️

Masterlist||AO3

divider by @saradika-graphics

You thought things were fine. Dave is the perfect gentleman. It is a complete shock to see this text from your friend. It was a picture of Dave with another woman and two little girls at a soccer game. Maybe it’s his niece's soccer game and he’s just there being a good uncle? Until the next text comes in.

Isn’t that your boyfriend?

Another picture is attached featuring Dave, his arm around the woman. Then another and another and another. More evidence to suggest he is obviously in a relationship with the woman and you are the one left in the dark on this whole situation.

You stopped responding to your friend a while ago, staring at the pictures they sent. Back and forth, memorizing every detail. The way he’s looking at her. The way his arm is around her. The way he’s touching her. The way he kissed her - that was the one that sealed your fate of knowing you had in fact not been seeing a recently divorced man but a married one. Your phone buzzes with another text notification.

D. York: Hey baby, still picking you up at 9 right?

You glare at your phone unsure of what the next step is. Obviously he is cheating on his wife unbeknownst to you. How does somebody even handle something like this? You really liked Dave, you saw a future with him. Your relationship has been going on for months now.

After neglecting to respond your phone buzzes again with another text from the man himself.

D. York: Been thinking about you

You roll your eyes and text him back.

You: Not tonight. Don’t feel good.

D. York: Aw you poor thing. Do you need anything?

You didn’t even have the energy to respond with this new found information rattling around your brain, pressing the button to make your phone sleep and making your way to your bedroom. You plugged your phone in and crawled into bed, ignoring the constant buzz against your nightstand as you tried to drift off. The sun was still out but you couldn’t be awake right now. You needed to shut your brain off and this was the only way you knew how.

There was a pounding on your door when you woke with a startle. The moon casting shadows through the curtains into your room. You checked your phone, seeing the multiple notifications, some from your friends and some from Dave. He’d also tried calling several different times.

D. York: Are you okay?

Did you talk to him yet?

D. York: Do you want some company?

Want me to kick his ass?

D. York: How are you feeling?

What do you plan to say?

D. York: Baby, please answer me. Getting a little worried here.

The pounding on your door continued as you checked your phone. The doorbell camera he insisted on getting for you and installed showed Dave at your doorstep holding a plastic bag, grumbling, you got out of bed and walked towards the door.

“I’m coming. Give it a rest,” you shout, hoping Dave can hear you over his loud knocks.

Sliding the chain lock you open the door.

“Baby,” Dave sighs with relief, “What have you been doing? I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for hours now!”

“I told you, I don’t feel good,” you shrug, “I’ve been sleeping.”

“I’m sorry to wake you, I started to get worried,” Dave says, looking around your living room, “I got you some stuff to hopefully help with whatever bug you’ve seemed to catch.”

You watch as he carefully steps into your space, placing the bag on the coffee table in front of your couch.

“Dave,” you sigh, “I know.”

“Know what?” Dave asks, hands on his hips and shaking his head with a smirk.

“I know you’re still married.”

You see his adam's apple bob as he swallows, flopping back onto the couch, and clasping his hands together. He stays silent for a moment, contemplating what to say next.

“How’d you find out?”

Your eyes widen, not expecting him to fold so easily.

“A friend sent me some photos from today at the soccer field,” you murmur, trying to keep the wavering in your voice to a minimum.

“I see,” Dave says with a nod.

“You also have kids?”

Dave nods again, facing you this time.

“Why?”

“Why what?” Dave scoffs, “Sleep with you?”

“I wouldn’t just call what we’ve been doing as ‘sleeping together,’ Dave,” you say, using your fingers as air quotes when the words sleeping together leave your mouth.

“It’s really not that big of a deal,” Dave chuckles, “I get bored from time to time and like to play with someone new.”

“Your wife know that?” you ask, glaring at him. This man who you thought you knew is showing an entirely different side of himself, and you don’t like it.

“She doesn’t need to know because it’s not a big deal.” Dave sighs exasperated.

“I think it’s best if you left.”

“Alright,” Dave says standing, “If that’s what you want.”

“Yep,” you say with a sharp nod.

“Listen,” Dave says, reaching a hand towards your arm, and you slid your arm back letting him know not to touch you, and he put his hand down beside him, “Okay, well, it’s really not as big of a deal as you’re making it out to be. I like you, I like what we’ve been–”

“Dave, you’re cheating on your wife,” you grit through your teeth interrupting the spiel he was going on, and swung the door open for him, “Leave.”

—

“Fucking take it.” Dave growls in your ear, thrusting his hips harshly into you, “Just like that baby.”

Your moans fill his ears, he can tell you’re close. The way your walls flutter around his length, squeezing him tighter. He can practically taste your climax in the air around him, gripping your hips tighter and angling them so he can get deeper.

“Dave,” you sob, after a particularly harsh thrust. Fingers gripping the sheets beneath you, back arching as you continue to cry out his name.

Dave. Dave. Dave.

“David!”

Dave jumps to the sound of Carol’s voice. Looking around to see he’s in his own bed in his home, not yours.

“Honey, your alarm has been going off for 10 minutes now.”

He lets out a sigh facing his reality, adjusting the hardness in his pajama bottoms. It was just a dream. It’s been months since he’s seen you. You’ve seemed to make your way into his brain at all times of the day, conscious or not.

“I’m gonna get the girls ready but you don’t need to be late for work again,” Carol says, giving him a smile and wink. After last night, he’s not sure how much longer he can do this. He’s been trying to have sex with Carol more. Sure, she’s his wife but she doesn’t scratch the same itch you did.

He’s tried. He’s tried to be a good husband, he’s tried to be a good dad and he’s exhausted. Dave feels himself becoming more of a shell since you told him to leave.

You’ve made it abundantly clear you want nothing to do with him. He tried to reach out to you, only to have his number blocked. You disabled your doorbell camera after he left that night. You must have known he’d try and look at it on his phone, you knew he had the information for your account. Why wouldn’t he try to look?

What you don’t know is that once Carol takes the girls to school, he gets the second phone hidden in the false bottom of a shoe box in his closet that is an exact copy of your own. He can see who you’re texting, where you’re at, how things at work are going, who you’re hanging out with. It’s become an obsession to check it daily.

—

As he steps out of the shower, Carol shouts up the stairs that she’s leaving with the girls, and the front door closes shortly after. Time to start his day.

Getting dressed in his running gear and snatching his headphones from the dresser. He makes his way to the closet. Finding the shoe box with your duplicated phone.

Texts from your friends, a text from your boss and a missed call from your mom. What catches his eye the most is the notification from some jackass on Tinder. James. Scanning James’ profile he’s definitely not your type: blonde hair, green eyes, gelled back hair, and a full beard.

James, 29

Looking for a girl who just wants to have some fun, if it leads to more that’s cool too. I like hiking, graduated from Harvard, hanging with my bros, anything else hmu

Dave shakes his head as he reads the messages shared between the two of you. He scans reading hellos, good nights, sharing random facts about each other, until he stumbles upon the most recent messages

James: Hello gorgeous 😉

Hello 😊

James: So I’ve been thinking would you wanna meet up? Go get a drink or something?

Sure! 7 good?

James: Awesome! Yeah. Do you know where Sal’s is?

I do! It’s not far from my job

James: Perfect! I’ll see ya then beautiful

No. No way in hell is this James guy meeting up with you. Dave calls the office letting them know he’s taking a personal day, he has some business to take care of.

—

Sal’s is exactly what you expected it to be. Dark, dingey, and small. Not too crowded thankfully, it’s definitely got character though. The random decor on the wall is confusing. You can’t tell if this is supposed to be a sports or a punk bar with the random band posters on the wall along with sports jerseys next to them.

Making your way to the bar you sit down on a stool, flagging down the bartender.

“What’s your poison for the night?” He asks, wiping his hands on the towel he was carrying.

“Jack and Coke,” you say, slipping your hand into your bag to get your wallet out. He makes quick work of mixing the drink and placing it in front of you, handing over your card while you hear the jingle of the door.

“Starting a tab?” The bartender asks, swiping your card.

“No, thank you,” you smile as he hands your card back to you, putting it back in your wallet.

Out of the corner of your eye you can see someone standing a couple stools away. Looking down at your drink, moving the straw around before taking a drink. You take a peek at your watch to see it’s 10 minutes before you’re supposed to meet James.

Maybe this was a bad idea, you haven’t had to do this in months. It was easier when Dave just kind of fell into your life.

“Whiskey on the rocks.”

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up when you heard the familiar timber of his voice, head snapping to look at him. Dave. His smirk as he waits on his drink says it all, he knew you would be here. Was he James?

“Are you fucking serious?” You hiss through your teeth.

Dave thanks the bartender, moving closer to you.

“I come in peace,” Dave says, sitting in the stool one away from you, “All I want to do is talk.”

“Are you James?” You ask through clenched teeth, glaring at him.

“Oh baby,” Dave tuts, “I’m not James, he’s very real.”

You continue to glare at him. Unable to force your brain to work with your limbs on moving, leaving, throwing your drink on him. Anything other than sitting here being in his presence.

“He wasn’t hard to convince to leave you alone though,” Dave looks at you with a smirk, one eyebrow raised and begins to chuckle, “One mention of snapping any finger that touches you sent him running.”

You try to swallow but your throat feels like a desert, gripping the tumbler in front of you and taking a swig. Did he… did he do something to James? Surely not, Dave wouldn’t even kill the spider that appeared in your apartment one day, scooped it up and took it outside. How could he cause harm to anything?

“Dave did you…” pausing pondering how to even ask the question.

“Did I hurt him?” Dave asks, scooting to the stool next to you and leaning in closer, invading your space and you nod your head, “No, just made it known what’s mine.”

You let out a sharp gasp at his words, arousal seeping into the gusset of your underwear, thighs clenching together at his closeness, feeling goosebumps erupt across your skin. This shouldn’t be happening but your body thinks otherwise.

“I’ve missed you baby,” Dave hums into your ear, “Don’t like how we ended things.”

The way he says it has the ice around your heart melting. You hate him but can’t help the way your heart betrays your brain at his words. Dave lets out a small growl, gripping your bare thigh beneath the bar top possessively.

“I’m staying in a hotel room tonight,” he says, the grip on your thigh becoming less and smoothing his hand against your inner thigh. Gliding his hand up, up, up. Pinky finger playing with the edge of your underwear under your skirt.

You grab his hand and pull it away from your core, bringing it to rest on your lap. Lacing your fingers with his, while his thumb rubs along your palm. You sigh, contemplating what to do. Go with him or send him packing like last time. The devil on your shoulder telling you to go with him, it’s just stress relief, it won’t- it can’t mean anything, he knows your body better than anyone else. The angel on the other side just repeating the same words, he’s still married.

In the words of your mother, if he doesn’t cheat with you then he’ll just find someone else. Might as well have fun.

“I’ve missed you too,” you confess with a soft whimper in his ear. Finally seeing him again after months of nothing has your practical sense crumbling.

“Let’s go then,” Dave smirks, standing pulling your hand slightly to stand with him and leave.

—

Dave drove like a bat out of hell to the hotel, dragged you to the elevator and his room as if this was his last chance to have you. Clothes flying off the moment you crossed the threshold of the room.

“Dave,” you moan, his lips ghosting down your neck to your collarbone. His hands grip your ass, pulling you flush against his front, feeling his erection against your stomach.

“I’ve missed you so fucking much,” he groans, his mouth sucking the flesh of your breast, capturing your nipple in his mouth and giving it a nip. A whine escapes past your lips at the sudden pressure of his teeth, moving your body with him until you feel the back of your knees hit the bed.

Dave releases your nipple, pushing himself against you to lay back on the bed, making room for himself between your thighs. His dark eyes swimming with lust study your face. His hand comes to rest on your jaw, thumb brushing your cheek.

“Why’d you let me leave like that?” His voice barely a whisper, lying his forehead against your own.

“You’re married,” you wince hearing the words leave your throat. You shouldn’t be doing this.

“I can change that,” he smirks with a chuckle, kissing the corner of your mouth, “I’d leave if it meant you’d stay,” kissing your jaw, “I’d spend every single day of my life making you happy,” he coos, trailing his lips down to your neck, laving his tongue against your pulse point.

“Dave,” you plead, hoping to stop his words. You don’t want to hear this, it’s all lies to get you to stay. The ache between your thighs begging for more.

“Mean it baby,” Dave says with a hum, mouth traveling down the expanse of your body, “Only want you,” he breathes when his face inches away from your sex, “Looks like you want me too,” he teases.

You feel the warmth spreading through your body as he sighs using his thumbs to spread your lips apart, staring at your glistening slit.

“Oh yeah, she’s definitely missed me,” he hums, flicking his tongue against your clit.

“Dave,” you gasp, gripping the sheets between your fingers. He works his tongue along your bundle of nerves swirling and sucking.

“God I’ve missed this pussy,” Dave growls, gripping your hips tightly before fucking you with his tongue.

“Fuck,” you moan, back arching off the bed. The fire in your abdomen grows more intense. You reach for one of his hands, linking your fingers with his. His other hand moving, fingers prodding at your entrance.

“Please,” you beg, “Dave, pl- please. More, I- I need m-“, you cry out when his fingers plunge into your cunt. Swiftly curling them inside you as he moves the pads of his fingers back and forth putting delicious pressure against your g-spot.

“That’s it baby,” Dave groans, nipping your inner thigh, “Let me have it.”

Your toes curl feeling the coil in your lower belly tightening, leaning your head up to watch him. He looks as wrecked as you feel as he rapidly flits his tongue against your clit. His brows furrowed in concentration as he worked his mouth and fingers in sync for you to reach your climax, his lips shiny from your arousal. He opens his eyes to see your mouth hung open in a silent scream, brows pinched together as you pant looking into his eyes.

“Dave,” you pant, “Baby, I’m gonna come.”

Your walls clamp down on his fingers as you stare into his dark orbs. White hot heat spreads throughout your body, letting out a soft shriek.

“Flip over,” Dave instructs, moving your pliable limbs so you’re on your stomach. You cry out as he pushes his cock into you sharply.

“Fuck.”

“Shhh,” Dave tuts, “It’s okay baby, you can take it.”

You whine, it feels like he’s splitting you in two, walls gripping his length. He doesn’t give you a moment to adjust before he’s roughly snapping his hips into you.

“Make you mine again,” Dave grunts, “No one else deserves you.”

The pain quickly turns into pleasure as he works his cock in and out. The sound of your squelching pussy filling your ears as strangled noises crawl up your throat.

“God damn baby,” Dave hisses, tilting your hips up as he grinds his hips into you, hitting that spot deep inside only he’s been able to reach.

“Missed this so,” he grunts, slapping your ass, “Fucking,” another slap against your skin, “Much,” another harsh slap before soothing the marks he’s left with his palm.

“Dave,” you let out a choked sob, feeling the pleasure building, thrusting your hips back into him, “Faster.”

“Dirty girl,” Dave hums, gripping your hips again, pounding into your pussy at a frantic pace, “You gonna- oh fuck- come again?”

You can only nod your head weakly, feeling the sizzling pressure in your abdomen start to boil over. Your walls spasming and contracting around his cock. The muscles in your legs tensing before screaming out.

“Oh fuck,” Dave moans, “That’s it baby. Come on my cock. Just like that.”

Dave leans over caging you between his arms, thrusting into your wet heat a half a dozen times before his hips start to lose rhythm and going still, your name tumbling from his lips, letting your walls milk his cock feeling the warmth of his seed paint your walls.

“I really have missed you,” Dave admits slumping against you with a sigh, “So fucking much.”

He kisses your shoulder before pulling out with a hiss. You groan feeling the emptiness before he helps you up, guiding you to the bathroom.

You shower together, taking time to wash each other with delicate touches, and sharing intimate kisses before crawling back into bed with his arms wrapped around you.

You wake sometime in the middle of the night. Dave’s snoring beside you, finding your phone amongst your belongings scattered around the room, you make your way to the bathroom. Looking at Dave sleeping so peacefully from the doorway of the bathroom you can’t help feeling torn. You loved him, still do if you’re being honest with yourself, but this isn’t what you two should be doing.

You find an uber available and schedule to be picked up. Quietly making your way out of the bathroom and grabbing your things when you hear two identical dings. One from your hand and one from Dave’s bag. Slipping your clothes back on you slowly wander over to his things. Rummaging around until you find a phone, similar to yours. Pushing the button on the side you see a notification for an Uber 5 minutes away, looking at your own phone to see it displaying the same.

“What the fuck?” You whisper to yourself, head snapping to look at Dave hoping you didn’t wake him. You look around to find a pen and piece of paper.

—

Dave wakes the next morning with a smile, remembering what happened last night. Sliding his hand to where you should be, feeling the cool sheets under his palm, peeking an eye open to see the empty spot next to him.

He listens closely to his surroundings, hoping to hear the shower but is met only with silence. Frowning as he sits up, scrubbing his hands against his face trying to rub the sleep from his eyes. Looking around the room for any sign of you, taking note of your things being gone.

He sees a folded piece of paper lying on top of something on the dresser. Dave gets up to inspect what it is. His name is on the paper, sitting on top of two phones. Immediately recognizing one as yours and the other the duplicate he had made. His eyes scan the note you left, unable to believe what he was reading.

You’ll never be anything but a lying, cheating, manipulative douchebag. Figure your shit out. Don’t ever reach out to me again.

Dave’s hand curls into a fist as he reads the note over and over again. You left. You really left and this time it’s going to be even harder to find you.

He smirks, shaking his head as he collapses on the edge of the bed. You must not realize how much he loves a challenge.

#shortieswritingchallenge #dave york x f!reader #dave york smut #dave york fanfiction #dave york x you #dave york equalizer 2

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howlett-variants · 2 months ago

Text

"I've got you"

a/n: I love Charlie Kenton sm, he deserves more love. Also, I haven't written an X reader fic in like 10 years forgive me.

Prompt: Charlie gets his ass kicked, thankfully he has you to patch him up! Words: 2,975 Tags: gn!reader, post movie, hurt/comfort, Charlie is very dog coded to me and I don't know how to tag things anymore

You could have never guessed your day to go like this. Work had been boring as all hell. The only thing keeping you going was the thought of getting to hang out with those you cared about most over at Tallets Gym. Bailey was basically your closest friend at this point. She was kind and caring but could always match your energy- especially if that energy was being angry with Charlie. Speaking of Charlie, seeing him was always one of the best parts of your day. Even when he was being an idiot, or impulsive, or both- he always knew how to put a smile on your face. Which was much needed after a boring day at work. You even looked forward to seeing Max most days. The kid was the spitting image of his father when it came to personality, which definitely had its downsides. Max was probably the most independent eleven-year-old you’ve ever met- he was always determined to do stuff by himself. Even if he ended up asking you or Bailey for help in the end. Things were never boring with the Kentons.

Today would be no exception.

Your phone rang mere moments before you were about to park in front of the rundown gym.

“Hel-” You started, but were quickly cut off by the sound of your good friend Bailey in a panic.

“Charlies hurt.” “What?” “Max just called, and he’s freaking out-” You could hear her voice quicken on the other end.

“Slow down Bail, where are they?” “Some gas station twenty minutes outside of town, they were on their way back from a fight and-” She gave you a few more vague responses, clearly not sure of the situation herself, but that was okay. You could work with that. There weren’t that many gas stations on that side of town, plus it would be hard to miss Charlie’s massive green truck.

–

Ten minutes, and a few potential road laws broken, later- you finally spotted the truck. You pulled up next to them, attempting to not fully slam on your brakes. Your panic had slowly grown over the last few moments, and panicked driving is not a good idea.

Tossing the door open in a quick motion, you stepped out and ran over to see Charlie sitting on the tailgate of his truck. Max was next to him, holding a makeshift ice pack to his face.

“How’s he doing?” You plant your feet in front of them, doing your best to keep your arms at your side to not fret over him. At the sound of your voice, Max looked over with a smile. Charlie attempted to look at you, but winces the moment he tried to open his eyes.

“I’m fine- just a black eye.” Charlie replied weakly, still unable to fully open his eyes.

“He might need stitches this time.” Max’s smile fades, returning to a worried expression.

“Let me see.” Max nods before jumping off of the tailgate, making room for you to take his place. You carefully move to sit next to him, close enough for your legs to touch. You reach a hand up to his face, slowly peeling away the ice pack. It took everything in you to not visibly tense at the rather nasty wound on his face. Whoever beat him up this time actually used a weapon, brass knuckles, if you’d have to guess. He had a large gash right next to his eyebrow, reaching almost to his ear, as well as a black eye and numerous other bruises all over his neck. You can only imagine the amount of bruises he was hiding on the skin you couldn’t see. “Yeah…that’s going to scar. Where’s your first aid kit?”

“Don’t have one…” He mumbled.

“Come again?” You can’t help but sigh, “With how much you get beat up-”

He avoids your glare and refuses to respond, which is Charlie for ‘You’re right, but I will not admit it’. With a slight roll of your eye, you reach into your back pocket with your free hand and take out your wallet to hand to Max. “They should have bandages, or at least some cotton balls I can use to stop the bleeding. Grab what you can- if nothing else, your dad can save it for later.”

The kid nodded as he took your wallet before running back into the gas station. It probably wasn’t your smartest idea to just hand your wallet to an eleven-year-old, but you knew Max would at least grab what you asked- even if he came back with a few extra snacks.

Seconds after he left your eye-line, you heard Charlie suck in a sharp breath. The sound caused your full attention to turn back to the man next to you. He was no longer sitting upright, but instead leaning on the side of the truck as if the metal wall was the only thing holding him upright. You were quick to notice the stiffness in his shoulders was far worse than a few seconds ago, and you didn’t have to ask why to know what was going on in his head.

“Char, the kid just watched you get your ass kicked- again. You don’t have to act all tough. Hell your face is bleeding like some kind of horror movie victim. He knows that you’re not alright.” It broke your heart to see him like this. He was always putting on a front of the big strong unfeeling douchebag, but you knew better. You also knew better than to question it. Max was a strong kid, but he was still just a child. No kid should have to watch this dad getting beat up as much as Charlie did. You moved your hand from his face to his shoulder, using your thumb to rub soothing motions in a small attempt to comfort him.

“How’d you get here so fast?” He questioned, completely avoiding your concerned comments.

“Max called Bailey. Bailey called me. Here I am.” You moved your free hand up to his face, attempting to inspect the wound a bit more. Fingers lightly holding his chin, making it easier for you to move his head if needed. He couldn’t help but lean into the small touches. “I think I still have some pizza in the car. It’ll be cold by now though.”

He let out a light chuckle, mouth struggling to turn into a smile without pain. “Maybe when my face is done bleedin’ out.”

You smile at him, grateful to hear that his sense of humor was still intact. The moment he winces again, your smile falls. “What the hell happened?”

“Just some assholes that I used to owe money to, what else-” He pouts, “I would have been able to our run em but-”

“Max…”

He didn’t have to even look at you for you to understand what he meant. From what Bailey had told you in the past, getting his ass kicked out of the ring was nothing new for Charlie. He was constantly coming back to the gym with cuts and bruises, and the occasional broken bone, but ever since he regained custody of his son, he’s tried to be a lot more careful. He had always been reckless and almost uncaring when it came to what happened to him, but now he had someone to protect. Thankfully, the Atom fights had helped pay off practically every debt he had ever owed, but there were still some people who had it out for him that couldn’t give less of a shit if his son was watching or not.

The hand on his face slowly moved to the back of his neck, before you carefully pulled him closer to you. You positioned his head to rest comfortably on your shoulder. Your other arm snaked around his back, holding him in a secure hug. “It’s okay…I’ve got you.”

Your hushed tone was all he needed to melt completely into your hold. His face hid in the crook of your neck, like it was the only thing keeping him in one piece. His arms found their way around you, holding onto the fabric of your shirt like a lifeline. Charlie Kenton was many things. He was a boxer who had seen his fair share of violence, as well as a man who routinely went to shady places for robot fights, but he was also a father who had no idea what he was doing. To him, there was nothing more terrifying than the idea of his son watching him bleed out (and potentially die). Whoever had attacked him this time didn’t hold back. He honestly didn’t know if he was going to make it out in one piece.

He was in pain and scared shitless, but you were there. You kept him grounded, like you always knew what to do or say to keep his anxieties at bay. You were his rock, and he was yours. The two of you had this unspoken thing that not even Bailey dared to bring up to either of you. You could feel your shoulder becoming damn, from both tears and the blood from his wound- but you didn’t care. The stains would come out, and even if you ended up having to throw the shirt away, it didn’t matter. What mattered was the man quietly sobbing in your arms.

He would never admit it, but Charlie cried a lot. Never in front of you or anyone else, but you’d always catch him silently crying to himself in the middle of the night. You knew that Bailey and Max were aware, but all three of you knew better than to mention it to him. Anytime that you gathered the nerve to ask him if he was alright in the middle of his crying session, he’d just yell at you to go away. You knew he never meant to actually yell at you. Normally he’d even apologize the next morning with a vague ‘sorry about last night’ while avoiding any actual questions about whatever he had been upset about. But right now, he didn’t care. There was nothing he needed more than you.

—

Time passed by in a small blur. The only sound you could hear was Charlie’s heavy breathing finally beginning to regulate itself to the sound of your light humming. His arms were still wrapped around you, but the grip on your shirt had loosened. You still had one arm around his back, the other had found its way to his hair- playing with the short brown strands.

“I got some stuff!” Max’s sudden voice startled you both. You turned your head in his direction to see that his hands were filled with an assortment of bandaid boxes, a bag of cotton balls, and a few snacks that he bought with your money (which you fully expected would happen). Charlie’s body went stiff under your arm at the sound of his son’s voice, embarrassed to be caught in such a vulnerable state. “This is all they had.”

“Thanks kiddo,” you smiled at him. The arm around Charlie’s middle let go, so you could reach out for the ‘medical’ supplies. He silently mourned the loss of the touch the second you let go. You placed the items next to you before your gaze returned to Max. “Why don’t you sit up front and update Bailey, tell her we’ll be back in a little bit. I’ll get to work patching up your dad’s apparently very punchable face.”

It was a poor attempt at a joke, but Max still smiled. Charlie made a mental note to thank you later for the small attempt at saving what was left of his pride. Thankfully, Max obliged and left to go sit in the front seat, giving you two a bit of privacy.

Using both your hands, you carefully lifted his head off of your shoulder. He made a small noise of disappointment as you pulled him from his safe spot. You couldn’t help but chuckle to yourself. You held his face in between your palms as you examined his face one more time. His eyes were a little swollen from the crying, and he looked like he was about to fall asleep. The adrenaline must have finally worn off.

“Okay, I’ll do what I can, but I’m taking you to actually get this checked out first thing in the morning.”

“Fine by me.” his words were beginning to slur together. Something told you that you’d be the one driving the truck back to town tonight. It would be safer to leave your old car than the massive truck holding one of the most popular boxing robots at the moment.

Your humming continued as you cleaned up the drying blood from his cheek. There was only so much you could do with the limited items (and skill) you had, but you stayed focused. With the bleeding stopped and wiped away, the wound wasn’t as bad as you originally thought. It would still leave a nasty scar, but it was small enough that a trip to an actual medical professional could wait. As you worked, you could feel Charlie’s head become heavy in your hands.

“You falling asleep on me?” You teased lightly.

“mmmno.” It was more of a noise than an actual word.

“Almost done, big guy. Then you’re welcome to crash on your little cot back there.” Between the warmth of your hands, the soft touches, and your quiet humming as you worked- Charlie was practically melting. Bailey and you liked to joke that he was like a dog sometimes, from the bursts of impulsive energy, to the unapologetic joy over the smallest things, and of course his mastery of the ‘puppy dog eyes’ that he often used on you and Bailey to get what he wanted. He would always scoff or roll his eyes whenever you would tease him or whenever you called him a dog. You couldn’t help it, especially at times like this- with his eyes comfortably closed and melting into your every touch. It was adorable, despite the fact that you were actively cleaning up a wound.

“Can’t sleep yet-” His body betrayed his words by interrupting his sentence to let out a yawn. “Gotta drive back.”

“Not like this, you’re not. I’ll drive.” Driving the truck wasn’t your favorite, but you have done it before. As long as you didn’t get pulled over, you could drive it home without a problem. “C’mon, let’s get you into bed before you actually pass out on me.”

With a light pat to his cheek, he dutifully allowed you to help him stand. His head immediately seeking your shoulder to lean on again. He was taller than you, but still seemed perfectly comfortable once he found the crook of your neck again. You blamed the blood loss and the crying for how touchy he was being. It’s not that he wasn’t a touchy person. He had a lack of personal space with those he was close to, but this was different. For a second, you questioned if this was even beyond him seeking you out as a source of comfort.

Ignoring the swirl of worry and emotions you had yet to even fully admit to yourself, in your stomach, you carefully led him over to the cot inside the truck. You gave him a small nudge to sit down. He listened with only a small sound of complaint. The disappointment was short-lived. You could almost see ears perk up the moment you returned to sit by his side.

“Thanks…for doing all this.” Standing must have woken him a little. His voice was much clearer than it was a few seconds ago.

“It’s not like I was going to let you bleed out.” You rolled your eyes with a small smile across your lips, as you finished putting the last bandaid on his face. It was a haphazard job, but it would do the trick- at least for a few hours.

“I know. Glad to have you on my side is all.” Your eyes moved from the collection of bandages to his eyes, feeling a little shocked by the genuine emotion they held. Charlie didn’t have a lot of people to count on. You knew that better than anyone.

“I’m happy to patch you up anytime.” Your hands left the sides of his face where you had been diligently working, moving down to find his hands. He took the hint and intertwined your fingers, giving them a light squeeze. The two of you were bonded, neither wanting to question of risk actually talking about what that bond was. You were waiting for him to say something, and he was in between being far too chicken shit and waiting for you. So many days spent dancing around either other like this. You knew, even now, that neither of you would mention the softness and tenderness from tonight’s interaction. He’d go to sleep as you drove him, and he’d wake up not remembering much of the night in the first place. Still you sat with him, foreheads pressed together, basking in each other’s company.

“I gotta take you home, Char.” You whispered, not wanting to leave this moment yet. His grip on your hand tightened, but he still allowed you to pull away.

“Tomorrow, let me take you to dinner.” His voice wasn’t as quiet as yours, but it was even more unsure of itself. Speaking before thinking, as always, but looking deep into your eyes this time. “As…thanks.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the offer. The two of you went out for dinner alone all the time, but something about this felt different. You gave his hand one final squeeze and planted a small kiss on his cheek before standing up. “It’s a date.”

#charlie kenton #real steel #charlie kenton x reader #hugh jackman x reader #fic writing #I guess I'm doing fics now

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strwbrryeyes · 8 months ago

Note

nini… think about… iwaizumi meeting a girl who’s surprisingly stronger than him. she can lift that man with no problem. she has a sleeper build or something !! :3

𖦹°｡⋆ Friendly competition (iwaizumi x reader)

⟡ cw: fluff, competitive fem!reader and iwaizumi, taken place at a gym, idk i'm bad with tags, lmk if i missed anything

⟡ a/n: omg requests are finally rolling out after ages! also i rewrote this and proofread it countless times so if there's anything wrong i'm sorry im just DUMB

Iwaizumi Hajime has always loved going to the gym, which is evident as he goes there almost every day. Not only is he very fit and built, but his health is also in excellent condition as he knows that taking care of himself and his inner workings is just as important (actually, more important) as keeping up his outward appearance. It also helps that he is an athletic trainer, so he always has a way to remind himself to stay in shape as he would always nag his athletes about the importance of being fit while not overworking themselves. Overall, Iwaizumi has always found comfort and importance in working out and keeping everything about himself in good shape.

So that’s when he saw you about to lift an alarmingly heavy weight, he walked towards you as worry took over him but then stopped in surprise when he saw you lift up the weight over your head with complete ease and no sign of struggle.

“Impressive…” Iwaizumi mutters out as he watches you place the weight back down in front of you.

As he catches your attention, you turn around and smile at him with pride. “Thank you! I’ve been working towards that for weeks now!” You happily tell him while wiping the sweat off of your forehead. Iwaizumi continues to watch you as you walk towards the rest of your stuff in pure amazement and curiosity before striking up another conversation.

“You know, I’ve never seen someone like you lift like that,” Iwaizumi starts as he leans over the piece of equipment in front of him “What’s your secret?”

With a chuckle and a light flush creeping up your face, you look at him with a teasing kind of look. “Not much really, just a lot of hard work and a lot of trial and errors of multiple techniques!” you exclaim to him as you flex your arm further surprising the man by how well-built you actually are.

“Why don’t you show me a few tricks then?” he quirks his brow playfully as he steps closer to you as if he’s proposing a challenge.

“I don’t see why not,” you take one step closer, looking up at him “but I’m warning you, you might get yourself into more than you can handle.” playfully teasing him, you smirk at Iwaizumi causing him to drop his jaw in shock a bit before he lets out a low chuckle.

“Oh, I’m sure I can handle it.” Iwaizumi finally says before sticking out his hand for a handshake “I’m Iwaizumi, and I’ll see you here same time tomorrow.”

“I’m [name], and you can bet I’ll be here tomorrow to make you beg for mercy.” You take his hand in yours and shake it as if he had just made a deal with the devil.

What the both of you don’t know is that this handshake would be the one that would change your lives for the better.

As the next day rolls around, you both stay true to your words and show up to the gym around the same time. You both share techniques with each other and become friends easily as you both push each other to new limits, sparking a playful rivalry that leads into more sessions at the gym.

With each day at the gym together, you both challenge each other to multiple tests of strength and endurance that even catch the attention of all the other regulars to the point where they all surround you during every small competition you guys had. Even with all of the eyes looking at you two, you and Iwaizumi only see each other with no care for everyone else. Was it just that you wanted to one up each other? Or was it more than that? Neither of you were too sure yet, but you did know that you never wanted your time together to come to an end.

Days and weeks pass by, and you and Iwaizumi still find ways to work harder and to encourage each other to go further than you have been in the gym, but now you’ve come to realize you have challenged each other to almost everything one could think of.

With this realization, you walk up to Iwaizumi who is doing his post-workout stretching and sit across from him.

“Well, Iwa-chan~” you say in a mocking tone, knowing that nickname annoys him ever since his friend, Oikawa, came to work out with you both a couple of times, which causes him to roll his eyes, “Looks like I’ve taught you everything I know and you still fall behind a bit.” you smirk as he whips his head up to look at you.

“That’s a lie and you know it.” he spits out before standing up.

Your smirk turns into a full-on shit-eating grin as you look up at him from the floor “How is it a lie? I’m still stronger than you.” You tease him, making his eyebrow twitch.

“You are not stronger than me.” He chuckles, only a bit offended before turning around to grab his water bottle as an idea pops into your head.

As Iwaizumi drinks his water, you slowly and quietly stand up and walk behind him. Once directly behind him, you snake your arms around his waist and lift him up, causing a high-pitched yelp to come from his mouth which causes you to burst out laughing and accidentally drop him on the ground, making him lose his balance which leads to him falling over.

After a few more seconds of your non-stop laughing to the point where your eyes are squeezed shut with tears poking out from the corners, Iwaizumi takes this as an opportunity to take revenge and scoop you up bridal style in his own two arms.

This action makes you stop laughing as shock takes over you with your face turning a bright shade of pink, Iwaizumi smiles at you.

“You may be able to lift me a few inches off the ground, but that doesn’t mean anything as long as I’m able to lift you,” He says in a voice that's soft and soothing to your ears before placing you back on the ground slowly.

You try to gain your composure as fast as you can but only fail when he takes your hand in his and looks directly into your eyes with a look you’ve never seen from him before. A look of adoration.

“Let me take you to dinner after we leave?” Iwaizumi asks you, with hope in his voice, and after a few moments of shock and silence, you lightly punch his chest before nuzzling your face into it so he wouldn’t see your face, which was still the pinkest shade possible.

“Okay, but I get to choose where we eat.” Finally, you mutter out an answer into his chest, and all he can do is hug you while lifting you up into the air once again.

With that, you and Iwaizumi go out to dinner and talk and laugh before you both decide to make it official.

After dinner, you walk hand in hand back to your place, happy that you’ve found each other, but of course, you can’t let this be too sappy of a moment, so you let go of his hand and step out in front of him.

“So! What’s it like having a girlfriend that’s stronger than you?” You tease him with your signature grin, making him roll his eyes before pulling you into his arms.

“It feels pretty great actually.” Iwaizumi mumbles out, causing you to cheer and pump your fist into the air as he finally admitsthat you’re stronger than him.

You’re only stronger than him by a bit, but he doesn’t care as long as he gets to see you smile your goofy smile more.

#iwaizumi hajime x reader fluff #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi x reder fluff #iwaizumi hajime fluff #iwaizumi fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu x reader fluff #haikyuu #iwaizumi hajime #haikyuu iwaizumi

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sunshinedeekay · 6 months ago

Text

The Craving (DK’s version) || lsm.

pairing: dk x gn!reader

genre: tooth-rotting fluff

warnings: tbh none. just some kissing n hugging n stuff. slight cursing but not really

word count: just over 6k

author’s note: WOW okay hello. this has probably been a little longer awaited than i anticipated, but it is done now! the first idea on my previous post and first completed fic i’ll ever post on this account,,, and tumblr in general.

anywho, if you notice some odd spelling of some words (centre, colour) i am canadian, so things are normally spelled a little differently here. so i apologize if that throws you off 😭

but finally, i felt like i had to base a fic off of this song. after hearing the craving (jenna’s version) for the first time and seeing the video for it. i was brought to tears just because of how cute and sweet it was. i’m also a huge twenty one pilots fan, so that’s another part of me that went “WRITE THIS FIC.” so, here it is. i really hope you guys enjoy it :))

special shoutout to my bestie @wooziorgans for helping me with publishing, tags, banners, and also gassing me up to actually finish this and post this. you all should follow him as well because his posts are SO GOOD. he’s such a great writer.

divider by @cafekitsune

now, onto the fic!

~sunshinedeekay <3

“I don’t know why I can’t stop crying. I fear about getting old, and I don’t know a lot about you still…”

That was a voicemail that Seokmin constantly replayed in his long history of Y/N’s voicemails they had sent. He saved every single one. Even if it was the most mundane voicemail in existence, any sound of his precious Y/N’s voice was utter harmony to his ears.

He remembered that voicemail vividly. Waking up early in the morning to see a missed call and a voicemail from his partner of a few months. Y/N’s whisper sounded like they were crying, but also attempting to stay quiet and hold everything together. He remembered how nervous Y/N was of being good enough for Seokmin, and still not knowing a whole lot about him because they had only dated for a short amount of time. It crushed his heart to hear them like that.

He sent a plethora of loving words to them that day.

Now, here he was. Lied in an unfamiliar hotel bed in an unfamiliar hotel room. Darkness overcame the space, and the only light that shone was the screen of his voicemails. His thumb pressed the play button over… and over… and over. He kept thinking. Thinking more than actually doing, and that was what led him to the sinking feeling in his stomach. He felt so much guilt and remorse for what happened between them before he left for tour, and even if they talked after like nothing happened, it still lingered on his mind.

——

“You’ve been distant…” Y/N’s quiet voice brought up softly as Seokmin was cuddling their tired body that was still under the covers. He was up and ready to leave for SEVENTEEN’s short tour around the area. “Did I do something wrong?”

“Why would you think that?” Seokmin’s voice responded just as soft, if not even softer than Y/N’s sleepy tone. “I would tell you if something was wrong. You know that.”

“But you haven’t been telling me.” Y/N spoke back. Seokmin stopped in his tracks with that statement. “You’ve been out late at practice, always on your phone with something, and always sitting with that lost puppy look in your eyes. Every time I ask what’s wrong, you dismiss me.” Y/N continued as they slowly sat up and gently pushed Seokmin off. They finished their explanation with a rub to their sleepy eyes. “I’m beginning to worry there’s something you’re hiding from me.”

“Why would I hide anything?” Seokmin found himself getting defensive right off the bat. Why was he speaking like this? He never spoke like this right away to anybody, let alone Y/N who just asked a harmless question.

Y/N’s brows furrowed from the sudden defensive tone. Their nose scrunched with slight irritation. “I don’t know why you would. You never have before, so why do you seem to be now?” They spoke in the same tone back to him. Seokmin could tell that the way he spoke to Y/N irritated them.

“You act like I’m cheating or something.” Seokmin suddenly muttered. Then he thought about what he just said, and his eyes widened while his blood turned to ice. Did he really just say that? Even after he knew that was a sore subject for you? He cursed that dirtbag for even considering another woman over you… Now he just threw that out into the open.

“…What?” Was all that could come out of Y/N’s mouth. Their voice got quiet again, and their brows angled more with worry and irritation. “There’s no way you said that just now.” Despite the instant regret Seokmin felt for saying what he just said, he felt all of the stress from his planning and work bubbling over. He couldn’t stop himself from speaking now.

“Jesus, Y/N. I just wanted to say goodbye. I don’t have time to talk about this right now. Do you really not trust me enough to believe I could cheat on you?” Seokmin asked. His voice slightly sharpening with every syllable as he stood up and looked at his partner. His heart squeezed just looking at Y/N, their expression read as two parts confused, and one part hurt.

“Well excuse me for being a little worried and skeptical about your shady behaviour recently. You haven’t exactly been open and affectionate with me as of late.” Y/N started to argue. It was true. Because of Seokmin’s thinking and panicking about their relationship, he said less, and gave Y/N less affection than he normally did.

“Do I have to be clung to your hip the whole time in order for you to trust me? That’s a little much.” Seokmin retorted back. He slung his backpack over one shoulder and raised the handle of his suitcase.

“That’s not what I said at all, and you know it.” Y/N raised their voice slightly. That was the straw that broke the camel’s back for Seokmin.

“Well then I don’t know what you want from me, Y/N! It’s ridiculous that I change my routine with you just slightly and suddenly you think I could be cheating?” Seokmin just spoke without thinking. If current him could go back in time, god he would slap himself in the face. “I don’t have time for this. I gotta go before I’m late.”

“Fine. Leave.” Y/N spoke sharply. No “travel safe” or “I love you” spoken between either of them. Seokmin just left without a word, and probably too harsh of a slam of the front door.

——

Seokmin groaned internally thinking about that fight. Even though he apologized profusely over the phone to Y/N that night after he landed in Japan, he felt his heart still hurting. If he could explain everything, he would. But it wasn’t like that.

Truth be told, he was thinking about proposing to them.

He thought about it so much that it made him panic to himself. What if they weren’t ready? What if they said no? What if they realized they suddenly didn’t love him enough to want to spend a life with him like that? Sure, they had been together for about three years now, living together for one, and everything had been absolute bliss for Seokmin since then. But what if Y/N didn’t feel the same?

Seokmin continued to scroll his camera roll now. Having a folder made specifically for any of Y/N’s pictures or videos he would end up taking or saving. Every time he would look at a photo, the memory replayed in his mind.

Oh! Like the beautiful one of Y/N walking a trail full of looming evergreen trees. Dawned in a cute trench coat, a beanie, and a scarf he had bought for them just moments ago before that point. Their nose and cheeks were red from the cold, and their eyes were crinkled from their joyful, genuine smile.

——

“Take a few steps ahead, love! The scenery is perfect for a picture!” Seokmin told Y/N. His new camera he got for his birthday held in his chilled, slender hands while he placed it closer to his face to get a good frame.

Y/N didn’t even question it, but he could see the way they got flustered from him being so eager to take a picture of them. He knew they always got bashful when he insisted on taking a picture of them because that moment was just right. Even if the scenery wasn’t perfect, Y/N always was to Seokmin’s eyes. So a pretty scenery like this was just the cherry on top of an already delectable sundae.

Seokmin snapped a couple pictures, and as he looked back at them, his heart lept. Y/N looked so pretty. They were always so pretty. He couldn’t suppress the goofy smile on his face. He caught up to Y/N after taking the pictures with the same smile that started to ache his cold cheeks.

“Did they turn out good?” Y/N asked, but before they could even finish that breath, they felt Seokmin’s strong arms around their waist. Lifting them off their feet and spinning them in circles. Y/N burst into a fit of laughter, and held onto him tight.

“You’re so pretty.” Seokmin mumbled into their warm neck. He placed a lingering kiss against their supple skin. “I love you so much.”

——

Seokmin continued to scroll. Finding a video of him and Y/N playfully partner dancing courtesy of Seungkwan. There wasn’t any special setting, no special occasion, they were just dancing in their kitchen to the music playing on the TV. Both of their smiles infectious through the screen as they just looked happy to be with each other, and Y/N’s darling laugh as Seokmin tried (but ultimately fumbled) a complicated spin around. Seokmin wrapped his arms around his love, and the video ended.

There were so many little things. So many pictures that were taken at such different points in time. From fun and outdoorsy, to the mundane, soft, and intimate moments Seokmin got to share. All with one person. One person he knew he could and would love for the rest of his life. If Y/N wasn’t ready, he would wait for the rest of his days until they were.

He needed to let them know just how much he was ready for this next step. How much he loved them. He hated the thought of putting them on the spot like that, but goddammit, he would give Y/N the universe if they asked for it. Even if it meant taking a chance, and possibly taking some sense of security for such a big decision even for a split second. He would give them everything.

And that’s exactly what Seokmin was determined to do. He was gonna marry Y/N.

“So, I’ve had this idea for a while,” Seokmin started casually, sitting across Joshua in a secluded café the next morning. The warm sun comforting both of their bodies in addition to the lattes and pastries on a large plate in front of them. “But you have to swear to me that this stays between us. It goes to nobody else in the group or anybody else you know unless I say something to somebody else.”

This puzzled Joshua. He eyed Seokmin over his mug as he sipped from it for a lingering moment before setting the drink back on its saucer. He licked the frothed milk off his lips before he spoke. “Alright. What are you thinking about?”

Seokmin felt his heart begin to race in his chest once more as he nervously tapped his index finger onto the porcelain cup of his half-drank latte. He had to prepare himself to gain the courage to even say a few words- the main words- of his plan. How was he gonna explain everything he thought about the whole process?

“I…” His voice fell short for a moment. His throat forced a hard swallow before he sighed and tried again. “I’m proposing to Y/N.”

It was a good thing Joshua had his mug set down by now. Otherwise he’d have choked and had hot coffee spilled all over himself. Fortunately, only one of the two things happened. Except he choked on air when he heard Seokmin finally explain the summed up version of his idea.

He finished coughing a couple more times before patting his chest softly. “You’re being dead serious?”

“I’ve never been more serious than anything in my life.” Seokmin breathed. His brows furrowed in concern for his friend, but they quickly softened once he saw Joshua was fine. “I just,” he continued. “I was thinking about it all last night. Listening to their beautiful voice over the phone, looking over our old pictures and videos… It made me realize just how lucky of a person I am to have somebody as great as Y/N. They make me shine only the best parts of me, and I’ve never felt unsafe or uncomfortable around them once. I’ve thought about this for so long, and it was what was making me so off these past couple weeks. But now, I don’t think any other choice is a compromise.”

Joshua stared in awe, but the way his doe eyes twinkled when hearing Seokmin just open his heart up and speak truthfully about such a huge decision made his heart swell with pride for his best friend. Honestly, he wouldn’t be surprised if he cried at the wedding. “Seokmin…”

Seokmin looked to Joshua, and paused for a moment before continuing. The tapping on his mug stopped. “Every moment we’ve shared together has held a special place in my soul. Y/N is the most patient, loving, and perfect person I’ve been graced with. I want your help in carrying out the plan, and even the planning. I was thinking of asking Seungkwan as well, but I wanted to tell each of you this privately.”

Joshua couldn’t fight the smile on his face. He reached to take Seokmin’s nervous tapping hand and clasp it in a firm grasp. “I’ll do anything you need me to do. I’m so proud of you, Seokmin. You deserve Y/N and Y/N deserves you. To see the way you two have blossomed over the past couple years has been an honour, and I would love nothing more than to help you take the next step.”

Seokmin felt his eyes gloss slightly. He squeezed Joshua’s large hand with the same intensity as he gave him a tearful smile. His bright teeth in full view and almost glimmering from the morning sun coming through the window.

“I knew I could count on you.”

“Y/N-ah!~” Seokmin’s sweet sing-song tone would call out to his beloved partner. His feet scuttled from the kitchen to their shared bedroom, where a sleepy Y/N, probably only about half awake thanks to Seokmin’s loud voice, would lie.

“Min…” Y/N would grumble. Opening their eyes and squinting from the neutral light that now flooded the bedroom. “What time is it?”

“I’m sorry, lovebug, I know it’s early and you like your sleep,” Seokmin started. Straddling his partner’s legs to lean over them and slightly press his weight onto their body, peppering Y/N in delicate kisses. “But I have a big day planned. I’m making breakfast right now, so you can get ready while I finish. Dress nicely, because I’m pampering you, today.” He gave a cheeky grin. Leaning over to place one last kiss right in the centre of their forehead.

Y/N would laugh gently through their nose. They moved to lazily wrap their arms around Seokmin’s toned body and pulled him closer on top of them. “But you’re so warm and comfy like this…” They’d whine into his warm neck.

Seokmin would breathily laugh in return. He rested more of his weight onto Y/N’s body as he nuzzled his nose into their cheek and gave a lingering peck on their skin. “Mmm… But today is gonna be so fun. I know you’ll love it.” His voice was a sweet and low purr into Y/N’s ear. Something that could always make them shiver just from the sensation of his breath and the vibrations from his voice.

“Fine.” Y/N sighed and slid their arms from around Seokmin’s broad body. They lied flat with their arms sprawled out so he could climb off of them with ease.

Seokmin would grin like a child on Christmas while hovering over Y/N. Placing one more kiss onto their lips before climbing off. “That’s my lovebug. Trust me. You won’t regret it!” He exclaimed, then hurriedly shuffled his way back out to the kitchen.

Y/N pushed themselves up and sighed softly again. They looked over to the clock, 7AM. Jerk. As they rubbed the sleep from their eyes and face, they couldn’t help but wonder.

What did Seokmin have planned?

“Okay… And… Open!” Seokmin uncovered Y/N’s eyes. He had covered them some minutes ago to lead Y/N to a very special place for the both of them. One they would often go to when they needed a break outside, but also didn’t want to do anything too huge. In front of Y/N was the small café where they and Seokmin had their first date. Nothing had changed about it, despite it being a couple years since that fateful day, but that’s what always made the experience so wonderful each time they revisited.

“I had a feeling you’d bring me here.” Y/N teased Seokmin with a grin and a small poke to the right side of his ticklish waist. Seokmin would laugh and grab ahold of Y/N’s hand, lacing his long fingers with theirs.

“Yeah, yeah… But you don’t love coming here any less.” Seokmin chuckled and led them into the café. The little bell rang as the cyan door opened, and Seokmin held the door for Y/N to let them enter first.

Y/N entered and absentmindedly made their way towards the table they always sat at since that first date, but a sight of something caused them to stop in their tracks.

Already lied out on the table was Y/N’s favourite pastries and coffee. The beverage being made just the way they liked it. On the little cup, the word “Lovebug” was written beside it with a small heart beside it.

“Min…” Y/N would gasp softly. Bringing a hand over their mouth as they felt their heart swell from the sweet gesture.

“Yes, love?” Seokmin would have a loving grin on his face again. Bringing his arms around his lover’s waist as he pressed them up against him a little more. “Is everything alright?”

“Of course, yes! Sorry I’m just—“ Y/N tried to explain. But there wasn’t any words that could put together the amount of love and tenderness they felt in this moment for Seokmin. Maybe it was because they resolved their fight just the night before, but they also just felt… Happy. Overjoyed to have somebody like Seokmin who loved them enough to do this.

“It’s alright… Just sit down and enjoy. We can take whatever we don’t eat back with us to the car.” Seokmin reassured with his gentle tone. Moving his hands over Y/N’s hips to gently rub gentle circles around the bones with the pads of his thumbs.

The café date was everything Y/N could’ve dreamt it would be. They caught up with Seokmin, who told many stories about SEVENTEEN’s escapades during their tour, showing pictures, videos, and whatnot. But not to mention, Seokmin was just as lovey-dovey as he always was.

He held their hands over the table, under the table, gently grabbed their knee under the table and gave it a loving caress. But the way he looked at them…

Y/N had never noticed it before, maybe because they didn’t believe the people who told them all the time about how Seokmin looked at them, but they saw it now. His eyes glimmered with the sun whenever his attention was on you. His expression was bright, beautiful, endearing. They didn’t think it was true, but Joshua was right.

“He looks at you like you put stars in the sky.”

“Everything okay, lovebug?” Seokmin’s voice would bring them back to reality. Y/N suddenly looked up to Seokmin’s curious, and almost concerned expression since they had zoned out suddenly.

“Mm? Yeah. I’m all good.” Y/N reassured. Gently squeezing Seokmin’s hand that was holding theirs on top of the table. “Keep talking, I’m listening to every word.”

To let the food settle, Seokmin took them to a park next. One in the middle of town where they’d normally walk at any time of the day. Early morning, afternoon, middle of the night, you name it. They walked it.

Seokmin had Y/N’s hand in one hand, and the strap of his camera bag in the other. He was looking for a perfect scenery spot to take pictures. But not just of the trees, or that cute little bird that perched and twittered on the branch, no. He needed a picture of Y/N. One where he could capture the memory of this moment, of Y/N, before both of their lives would change forever.

“Y/N, go stand over there. Right under those trees. You see that little divot in the grass?” Seokmin tugged gently on Y/N’s hand to get their attention. Then leaned in real close to their side to point. He wanted to make sure they could see the spot, and that he wasn’t just crazy. But honestly? It happened more than he’d admit.

Y/N squinted to look for the spot. Seokmin looked over to their expression, and a small grin spread on his narrow cheeks. The way their nose scrunched always had his heart in a knot.

“I see it!” Y/N grinned. Slipping their hand out of Seokmin’s and making their way towards the spot. Seokmin was already getting his camera out. Taking test pictures to alter anything that made the picture look less than perfect. He then watched Y/N through the camera, and his heart pounded against his chest.

God. He was down horrendously.

“Now just look around. Don’t even worry about me being here. Just be you.” Seokmin instructed. Holding the camera up to his face as he carefully watched his loving partner through the lens. He couldn’t fight the goofy smile from his face.

Y/N would casually pose and look around. Smiling up at the little bird on the branch and even whistling back. Well— they attempted to, anyway. This made Seokmin laugh behind the camera.

When they saw Seokmin lower the camera, their attention caught glimpse of a group of pigeons. Picking from the ground and minding their own business. Y/N suddenly wondered how close they could get to the pigeons without startling them.

They took careful and slow steps to the group, and eventually found themself in the centre of the pigeon circle.

Seokmin looked up from his camera to where Y/N was before. They weren’t there? He looked around the area for them, and then found his partner standing in the middle of what looked like a pigeon cult. This made his chest ring with a hearty laughter as he took out his phone and started to video them.

“How did you get in there?” He laughed.

“I don’t know! I just walked in!” Y/N would respond with a giggle. Looking up to Seokmin and shaking their head when they noticed him recording. They continued to look down at the pigeons all strutting around them. Smiling when just watching their little mannerisms.

Suddenly, Y/N did a little hop. The pigeons went flying around them. They would laugh and shield their head. Rushing their way back to Seokmin, who was laughing even harder at this point. His dimples on full display as his eyes crinkled happily. He placed his phone away and took Y/N into his arms while they both still laughed.

After the walk in the park, things were staring to get a little darker now. The afternoon was setting into dusk, and the air stared to get a bite of chill within the breeze.

“We’ll head home soon. There’s just one more thing I need to do.” Seokmin smiled. His voice had suddenly gone more quiet. It faltered slightly. Was he suddenly nervous?

“Is everything alright, Min?” Y/N asked. Squeezing his hand to attempt to reassure him, even if they didn’t know what was happening.

“I’m more than alright, my love. Don’t worry.” Seokmin smiled. Squeezing Y/N’s delicate hand in return as he led them to another small place. An abandoned boardwalk over a lake not too far from the park. It was deserted. Not a single soul in sight.

The only sign of life Y/N could see on it, was a path made just for them to walk. Small candles bordered the pathway to lead them towards the end of the dock. Their flames danced elegantly in the breeze.

“Seokmin? What is this?” Y/N asked with a surprised laugh. A wide smile on their face as they gawked at the scene in front of them. They couldn’t help but pull out their phone and take a picture.

“Shhh… Just walk with me.” Seokmin grinned. Moving his arm to wrap around Y/N’s waist and pull them into his hip. Leading them through the path in a slow pace. Like one you’d take through an art exhibit. Y/N took in the sight around them. The clear sky showed the beautiful colours of the forming sunset, the gentle waves of the lake plopped onto the shore from the slight breeze. They felt their heart beat pulsing against their chest. What was all of this?

Seokmin, on the other hand, was quaking in his dress shoes. This was it. This was the final step to take before he asked Y/N the biggest question he’d ever ask in his life. He did his best to stay calm on the outside. Pulling Y/N closer and just walking in silence to let them take in the scenery. It was beautifully romantic. Seungkwan nailed it.

As they approached the end of the dock. There was a projector screen that came into view, as well as a plethora of rose petals, and a small rug that was lied down in front of the projector.

Seokmin guided Y/N by the small of their back to stand on the rug. Watching their expression light up and their jaw slightly hang open as the projection finally came on. What would play is little video memories of Seokmin and Y/N together. From when they first dated, progressing into more recent times. While a gentle song played in the background. One Y/N had sent to him when they first started dating.

“When you touch me, yeah I feel butterflies

I’m gonna love you ‘till the day I die.”

Y/N covered their mouth with both of their hands now. Feeling tears well up in their eyes as they continued to watch the compilation of videos. There were so many. Recorded by Y/N, recorded by Seokmin, or even from an outside source of one of their friends.

Seokmin stood carefully behind Y/N. Making eye contact with Joshua and giving a small nod of acknowledgement. Joshua followed the signal. Sneaking out from his hiding place to hand Seokmin the ring box.

Seokmin clasped his fingers around the box. Joshua placed his hand over Seokmin’s fingers and the box. Joshua gave Seokmin a silent encouragement through the reassuring touch. Seokmin nodded, feeling tears already well in his eyes as he smiled to Joshua.

When the slideshow looped again, Seokmin tucked the ring box in his back pocket. He approached behind Y/N and casually wrapped his arm around their waist. He took a moment to appreciate the new music playing. A peaceful, romantic piece that Woozi had put together just for this special night.

“We’ve spent so many memories together, haven’t we?” Seokmin started. His voice just above a whisper as he tried his best to keep his own emotions in check for this important moment.

“Min…” Y/N started. Looking up to Seokmin. But he took their hands in his and gave them a tender grin. Rubbing his thumbs over their knuckles as if he still didn’t remember how they felt off the top of his head.

“I love you, Y/N. I always get so scared I don’t say it enough.” Seokmin started now. His chest tightened with tears. He sighed softly and just kept himself grounded by rubbing his thumbs over their small knuckles. “But I really do love you. With all of my heart, my soul, my existence. I wouldn’t be who I am if you weren’t by my side. I don’t know who blessed me to have you, whether it was some sort of god, or the universe, or just something that drew us together. But I will always be thankful for what I have. That I have you.” His voice broke slightly. The tears making his vision blurry as he tightened his grip on Y/N’s hands. Bringing both of them up to gently place a kiss on each set of knuckles.

“You’ve been my world, my happiness, my inspiration, my muse… You’ve been and always will be all of these for me. And Y/N I— to imagine a life without you in it breaks my heart.” Seokmin continued. He gently lowered their hands, but kept them in his grip. Blinking back his tears to meet Y/N’s tearful gaze.

They already figured it out.

“Which is why…” Seokmin trailed off. Slowly bringing himself to his left knee. His gaze never leaving Y/N’s, and his heart leaping when he saw them gasp alight from surprise and start to choke out silent sobs.

“I want you to be my everything for the rest of my days, Y/N. I don’t see myself in the future with anybody else other than you. You complete me, you love me in ways that I’m sure you don’t even know yourself. You’re kind, patient, caring, selfless… You’re everything I could ever hope to achieve.” Seokmin’s voice now began to break. Seeing their tearful expression mixed with the overwhelming feelings of both love and fear made it impossible for him to hold back his emotions now.

“I don’t say enough how much I love you or appreciate you, and I feel terrible I can’t remind you every single day just how deep my feelings root for you. So… I hope that this can tell you just how much I need you with me.” He finally one of his hands out of Y/N’s. Reaching into his pocket to pull out the black velvet box and lifting the lid of it. He held it up to them. The ring was a beautiful silver. The jewel wasn’t just a diamond within it, but instead, a mix of amethyst, his birth stone, and Y/N’s birthstone. A(n) [insert birthstone].

“Y/N. I’m not perfect in loving you like you deserve. But I’ve never been more sure of this choice in my life. So my question is, do you want to love me for just as long? Will you marry me?” Seokmin finally asked. There wasn’t much silence between them in terms of words, but even the most brief pause felt like a million years. Was he pushing this too far too soon? Was Y/N not ready? What if he just put them on the spot all for nothing?

“Yes… God, Seokmin, yes.” Y/N choked out through sobs now. Frantically nodding their head as they covered their trembling lips with their free hand that still wasn’t in Seokmin’s.

Seokmin felt his world stop for a moment. They… They said yes?

“You… You will?” Seokmin stuttered out. His eyes going wide in surprise as his jaw hung agape. The tears were now flowing down his tanned and flushed cheeks full throttle now. They said yes. He couldn’t believe they just said yes.

“Yes!” Y/N nodded as they nodded frantically again. Feeling more sobs escape their chest as they looked over the ring, then to Seokmin. The Seokmin who had lived them better than anybody ever could, the Seokmin who was made of affection and tenderness, the Seokmin who was now on one knee wanting their souls to be dedicated to each other.

Seokmin quickly took Y/N’s trembling left hand and the ring out of the box with his other hand. Sliding it over their finger and looking over it now. It was beautiful. Just as amazing as he’d imagined. The best part was, it fit perfectly.

Now, Seokmin had pushed himself up to envelop Y/N in a tearful embrace. Sweeping them off their feet to wrap their legs around his waist as he quietly sobbed into their neck, while they did the same on him.

“I love you, Y/N. I love you so much.” He sobbed quietly. Moving one hand to the back of their hair to press their face a little more against his warm skin. He wanted them to be as close as possible.

“I love you too, Seokmin. With everything I have.” Y/N sobbed back. Clinging to him tighter as if it would be the last time they would ever hold him. But they both knew now that that was far from true.

Suddenly, cheers erupted from behind the embracing and tearful couple. Y/N would look up and realize that, indeed, Seokmin had help.

Seungkwan was throwing leftover rose petals in celebration, also crying with the two. Joshua was just crying and cheering for Y/N and Seokmin, a clear smile of pride written all over his tearful face. Wonwoo was clapping for the pair, his camera hanging from its strap over his neck as he had the widest smile out of the bunch. Soonyoung, standing next to Seungkwan, who was also throwing petals and shouting in victory like a viking going to war. Finally, a calm Jihoon and Minghao, well— calm compared to the rest. They were just as happy as everybody else, but weren’t the open crier types.

Seokmin set Y/N down, which caused Y/N to look back up to him with a trembling smile. Seokmin wouldn’t hesitate in taking their face between his hands and connecting their lips together in a deep, loving kiss. Wonwoo raised his camera to take a few more final pictures of the beautiful moment.

When Seokmin pulled away from Y/N, his forehead went to rest against theirs. Just closing his eyes and enjoying their new moments as an engaged couple.

“You won’t regret this. I’ll be the best husband anybody could have…” Seokmin promised through a whisper.

“I know you will…” Y/N whispered back. “I love you, Min.”

“I love you, too…”

As the group now worked to clean up the romantic scene, there was nobody short of a smile, or a stray tear. Joshua was clinging onto Seokmin from pure excitement, even though he wasn’t even the one that got engaged.

“Well,” Jihoon started. Approaching Y/N’s side and placing a gentle hand on their shoulder. “I guess the bad news from all of this is you’re really stuck with us now.” He joked with a slightly cheeky grin to his round face.

“Oh no, that’s gonna be terrible.” Y/N chided sarcastically as they playfully rolled their eyes.

“Listen, I’m just warning you now, this is your last chance to run for the hills.” Jihoon added. A chuckle leaving his chest as he finished. There were a few moments of comfortable silence between the two, before Jihoon tightened his grip slightly on Y/N’s shoulder.

“Welcome to the family, Y/N.”

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