#but. well lets just say i was quite unhappy.
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you know I'm hindsight i never thought about being aro cuz.. I never thought about romance ever. Like, while everyone around me was thinking about dating and relationship drama well I was playing pirated Minecraft and making my villagers suffer through intricate, saw esque traps I created to make them suffer.
#fugo.txt#i used to roleplay psychological thrillers being played out for these guys#i dated because i thought i had to reciprocate feelings always#but. well lets just say i was quite unhappy.#realized late into the game i wss probably aro#andd now im heree.snile.
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At First Sight PT2
Alastor x doe!reader
PART ONE PART 3
this is a short part 2 to a request, tbh i didnât think about continuing it before so i struggled a bit and itâs quite short! iâm so sorry gang ;-; i hope it satiates yall if not lemme know what i can cook up for you
Warnings: love sick alastor + reader, ooc alastor, mates/soulmate trope, mentions of reproduction and pregnancy (dw yall i didnât do the no no there is no pregnancy itâs just mentioned bc it supposed to be gn), short short, swearing, not proof read, hmmmm i think thatâs it lmk whatcha think
wee little taglist for the people who asked kiss kiss: @fairyv-ice @chirimeimei
Tucked underneath Alastors chin you laid comfortably alongside him in bed. Youâd been awake awhile now tail thumping softly behind you as you watched the demon sleep his smiled soft and barely showing. He laid in pyjama bottoms only chest bare and on display for you. You absentmindedly traced the scars along his torso feeling him respond with goosebumps every now and again.
âGoodmorning my doe,â Alastors voice rang out, killing the silence. It was shocking to hear his static gone and his regular voice out on display, dripped in sleepy sultry. âGood morning my buck.â You reply sickeningly sweet while crawling up to lean over his face, his eyes were lidded now gazing at you with a loving look in his eyes.
âDid you sleep well?â You asked playing with the stray hair that swept across his face. âIndeed darling very well. I should be good for several days.â He chirped happily, ears flicking. âWe should head down, i need to talk to Charlie.â You say with a grimace.
Last night when Charlie caught you and Al, you felt guilty, you knew Charlie was a sweetheart but you practically abandoned her all day for Alastor, then scared her silly with a deal and sex! Groaning you grab your head while Alastor stood. With a snap of his fingers the two of you were dressed, and that did take a load of stress of you. âCome now my doe, Iâll be there the whole time, no shame and if there is weâll be ashamed together!â
Alastor seemed pretty bright in his exclamation holding his arm out to you. Obviously you trusted Al you gave yourself and soul to him and only him just last night. So while attached at the arm the two of you trotted downstairs.
Arriving downstairs interlocked you were both greeted by all the patrons already in the living area next to the bar. Charlie was the first to make a noise gasping, meanwhile Angel was practically vibrating in his seat. Just as Angel was about to talk Vaggie interrupted. âYou made a fucking deal!?â Screamed the fallen angel, hands thrown behind her as the rest of her body lurched forward. Frowning you bit your lip, of course this was gonna be an awkward conversation with Charlie, but with the whole hotel listening. Even worse!
âNeva mind that Vagina! Letâs talk about the real stuff. How big? Seven? Eight? Twelve?! Ouch-â Vaggie knocked Angel over the head with the back of her spear. âYikes alright, twelve is greedyâŠ. ten?â Angel whispered cackling at Vaggie who growled at her. Alastor, obviously unhappy, began to crackle with static, black shadows oozing out from the floor and encompassing the room slowly.
At the sight of Alastorâs figure demonically stretching the room fell silent, you only gazed up at the deer slightly aroused by his stature and the way his antlers screwed out like branches. âYouâre quite the sight.â You say dreamily, barely even noticing you spoke to begin with, Alastorâs head cracked down to you. Coming back to himself Alastor hummed out adoringly, petting your head but wanting to kiss you, unfortunately that was a step too far for him right now.
âUhm anyway, YN, can you please tell me about the deal?â Charlie begged worry on her face as she looked to you and Alastor. You felt the guilt crawl at you again. âI⊠well Iâm not sure why but thereâs just this pull i have to Alastor, he asked me to be his i said yes iâŠâ You veered off feeling too embarrassed by all the eyes, thankfully Alastor pulled you in theatrically waving his microphone around, taking the attention off you.
âWell this lovely doe was just made for me you see? Iâm perfectly capable of protecting such a divine creature and though I don't doubt your ability, princess I'd feel a lot more comfortable being the one to do so.â Alastor fired off sounding like a proper radio host as he did so. Charlie looked confused but then perked up happily.
âThis is thee perfect redeeming quality Alastor, love is so pure! This is great!â As Charlie felt giddy, Vaggie felt suspicious eyeing the red demon. âSo what did you even sell- what was the deal?â You hummed tapping your finger to your lip; well you didnât know, just that you gave yourself to him.
Looking up to Alastor for help here he happily obliged. âWorry not you angry little woman,â Alastor replied, pinching Vaggies cheek, her angrily pushing him off. âThe contract was nothing greater than marriage.â The entire room, yourself included, was surprised at this. You knew this was a soul binding contract, but for him to make that connection on his own was well to you sweet as ever. Your tail flicked happily behind you as you looked to Alastor who returned to your side.
Charlie was as equally as happy as you were, but Vaggie and Husk kept within the same boat of apprehension. âWhy so suddenly?â Asked Vaggie again, but Alastor shrugged her off. âIâm unsure dear, just that i couldnât resist this little doe. Like fate.â Alastor pondered meanwhile you briefly seethed at Alastor for referring to Vaggie as dear.
âMaybe itâs like some soulmate bullshit between deer?â Angel pipped up, putting in his required two cents. Husk groaned at that, but Charlie squeaked jumping up. âThat is totally possible! It happened with my dad! Well, yâknow in the beginning.â Charlie chuckled, brushing her hair behind her ear. Alastor shook his head rapidly a soft laugh echoing out of him.
âNo way dear, how is that possible?â He mocked bopping Charlie atop the head with his mic, you again werenât happy hearing him call another demon dear, but you let it fly. âWell you both are deer, could it be instinctual?â Charlie reasoned her pitch, giving away her uncertainty.
You hummed looking up towards Alastor to see him already looking down to you. âI think Alastor and I would need to talk about it privately before we have a group conversation about it. Itâs kinda of embarrassing.â You admit already tired of the discussion. Charlie however didnât like the idea of not having an answer, so with a plan in mind she turned to Vaggie. âVaggie can you take them to the library, maybe look some stuff up online? We need to figure this out.â Charlie asked giving Vaggie a look that conveyed this was more of a do this rather than a can you do this.
Nodding her head Vaggie looked at you, who looked at Alastor. Alastor shrugged and muttered he didnât see the issue, so long as you were safe. So you and Vaggie headed off, meanwhile Charlie calmly asked to speak with Alastor in private.
Alone in Alastorâs radio tower, Charlie sat on one side of the broadcasting table while Alastor sat behind it, tunes playing out of him. âSo Al,â Charlie started breathing out a deep breath. âCan you please tell me whatâs going on with the deal, listen i canât have them get hurt! Iâll even make a deal.â Charlie said sadly gazing off, she didnât want to make a deal, but she would.
Alastor watched her, and pitied her odd behaviour. Resting his chin on his hand Alastor sat quietly for a moment, Charlie waiting with a hopeful gleam in her eyes. âIt was nothing malicious that i can assure you. Although, iâm not sure what happened between them and myself, I felt pretty agressive in my feelings to protect them. Of course that private moment between us shouldâve stayed private,â Alastors words were stern as he glared down at Charlie who shrunk bashfully in her seat.
âBut suppose since you know i will confess in that moment of intensity, i did the only thing I knew how to do to my dear. Iâm not particularly good with emotions, and so I simply ensured Iâd have them with a deal.â Tapping his nails on the desk Alastor kept his composure but inside he was scolding himself for even letting that much truth out. Charlie seemed to like the sound of that though, nodding her head in agreement.
âSo you wonât, and you donât have any plans to hurt them?â Alastors ears pinned back subconsciously, he didnât enjoy being accused of cruelty when it came to you, and he didnât know he could be any more truthful. âMy dear i swear, on my mother, not a hair on their pretty doe head, will ever be hurt by me.â Holding his right hand up, head high Alastor watched as Charlie eased into a smile. Nodding at him.
Rejoining the crew downstairs Alastor and Charlie were shocked to see you and Vaggie had returned. âHow come you guys are back so quick?â Vaggie turned at the sound of Charlieâs voice, eyes bugged slightly. âYeah you wonât believe what we found.â Vaggie said handing Charlie a book about demons and mating. Charlie didnât seem too keen on the book âuhsâ immediately falling from her mouth.
You stepped up, opening the book to the checked marked place. âItâs species dependent on how mating affects someone, in this case Doeâs are more of a rarity in hell meaning it was an instinct for the two of us to kinda âmateâ or âbondâ to one another, as if we had to worry about going extinct.â You scoffed watching as Charlie glazed over the words while listening to you. âWeird. It must be because youâre a hellborn and an angel, so technically you can reproduce.â
A record scratch sounded out from Alastor, the lot of you looking towards his stiff figure. âDonât worry Al, weâre pretty sure youâre still unable to.â Charlie hushed to him, before giving you a look that told you, she didnât really know that to be true. You werenât worried though, almost a hundred percent certain that he would not be able to have children. âWelp, at least now we know thatâs a thing,â Angel sighed from the background, Vaggie glaring at him.
Pulling you into his side Alastor grinned his poise returned. âLook at us figuring stuff out why wasnât this just the teamwork we all needed, good job.â Alastor applauded slightly condescending, but Charlie was happy with it nonetheless giving two thumbs up to you and Alastor.
#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel imagine#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel oneshots#alastor hazbin x reader#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel alastor x reader#alastor the radio demon#alastor hazbin hotel x reader#alastor x you#hazbin alastor#alastor hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel alastor
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After Hours || Theodore Nott
Theodore Nott x fem!reader || 2.3k words
Warnings: Unprotected & clothed sex, p-in-v, Theo speaking some Italian (hope the translations are accurate..) yeah, i'm a sucker for that.
Summary: Exams are two weeks time from now. You've made a deliberate effort to steer clear of your boyfriend, Theo. One unfortunate night, he ends up dragging you into an empty classroom and teaches you a lesson worth remembering.
Author's notes: Hellooo, requests are open ! It's a blast writing ab Theo !! I've only gotten back into writing recently after not writing fics for a good while. sorry if i'm slow at churning out fics. I'm busy!
It was roughly two weeks before examinations, and professors have even stopped giving out homework as to focus studentsâ time on reviewing for their respective subjects. Youâve been studying your ass off in the library day and night, sometimes offering your friends to join in as well. Though, they quickly get bored as they soon offer to do much more interesting things than studying such as having a go at wizard chess, or exploding snap.
It took a lot of self control not to join them, and it took even more not to just put down your book and see Theo. You had been purposely avoiding him because he would always end up distracting you, one way or another. You always catch him stealing a glance at you, and you would almost squirm at the way he looked at you; severely in discomfort as the tension between you two only continued to rise due to the lack of interaction.
It felt suffocating to say the least, so you even began trying not to even breathe in his direction. Needless to say, the bastard still had his ways. He would sometimes sneak up behind you in the library, as you pore over the shelves, inviting himself in as he grabbed your waist and buried his face in your neck. Another is when he would attempt to ensnare you right after your classes.Â
In the end, you always found yourself ending up hiding away in your common room. You would get past him just by the skin of your teeth each time, as he used his cunning words and a dangerous tone that was like poisoned honey.
You thought, or, more like hoped it would be a quiet night tonight, staying up past curfew hours at the library and praying none of the professors nor prefects would catch you. Though perhaps you were too engrossed in Advanced Potion Making to notice the echo of footsteps that slowly grew louder as it drew nearer to you. Your ears simply blanked it out as mere white noise.
It had not even registered yet in your head until you felt an arm wrap around your shoulder, as someone sat beside you. You didnât need to look to know who it was, as you could see him faintly through your peripherals. âYouâve been so distant lately, amore,â he says, his tone unhappy and laced with a hint of something else you couldnât quite make out underneath it.Â
âSorry, Theo, I-Iâm only trying to focus on the exams at the moment. I mean, not in a bad way but, if I spend time with you, Iâll only end up distracted,â you say, trying to clarify yourself to him. Maybe it wouldâve been a good idea to tell him sooner. He sighs, âI guess Iâll just have toââ he gets cut off as you both stiffen at the sound of someone approaching.
He hastily places a firm hand over your mouth, silencing your protests, and shoves your book, notes, and quill into your arms. Before you could object, he then relocates you two into an empty classroom, hastily and skillfully sneaking around the halls to get there. It looked unkempt, and it seemed as if it were not used regularly either. He finally released you from his grasp as you gasped for air. âTheo! What the heââ you say, as he quickly covers your mouth again. âShh, youâre gonna get us caught, principessa.â He says in a low voice, in a near-whisper before he lets go again. âAhem,â you clear up your throat before you speak, âI-I believe I should get going, Theo.â He furrows his brows at that, frowning slightly. You head towards the classroomâs door, before he grabs you by the waist from behind and pulls you in.
âWho said you were leaving, hm? Are you trying to avoid me again?â He says, as he moved the both of you to sit on one of the chairs. You remain in his arms, unable to get out despite your attempts to wiggle out and you end up on his lap. âTheo.â You say firmly, trying to assert yourself to let him know you really are serious about studying. âMm, fine, since youâre so stubborn. Tell you what, how about I study with you?â He says suggestively, his voice making you feel things you were not supposed to. Not right now at least.
âReally?â You say skeptically, raising an eyebrow. You place your stuff down, with a dull thud as it is placed on the table. Sounding slightly annoyed, he says, âWhat's with the attitude, hm? Are you doubting me?â âF-fine, then,â you hesitantly agree, knowing heâs got you exactly where he wants to be. Alone with him.
âBrava ragazza,â he says, as he rests his head on your shoulder whilst flipping open your book. You can not help but faintly squeeze your thighs together, you didnât know most of the time what he was saying when he spoke to you in Italian, but you found it incredibly hot when he did. Your actions do not go unnoticed by him, though he was not going to do anything yet. You pick up your quill, your eyebrows knitting together as you attempt to focus on taking your notes.Â
âTell you what, Iâll ask you a few questions to help you. If you get it right, I wonât do anything. If you don'tâŠâ He says, his voice trailing off as he does not continue what he was going to say, though the timbre in his voice gave enough implication. You gulp and nod, your throat bobbing as you swallow. You knew you did not really have much of a say, Theoâs done a good job of cornering you. Not to mention the fact he knew you were slightly struggling with potions, too.
âRight then, amore, can you tell me how Golpalottâs Third Law influences the effectiveness and stability of potions?â He asked amusedly, his foot tapping the floor rhythmically. âUhm,â you say, muttering in an attempt to answer, âUh, well, itâs... um, when you have a potion with, uh, lots of different poisons, right? So, um, the antidote... it's not just, um, the sum of... wait, no, it's more than that! Yeah, umâŠâ You begin feeling your mouth go dry as the tension in the room fills the air. You feel your heart thump loudly against your ribcage.
âItâs when you have multiple poisons mixed together in a potion, the antidote needs to be more potent or comprehensive to counteract their combined effects.â He says, cockily smirking as he corrects you. Your breath hitches as he takes off your robes and his, tossing it aside as he hikes up your skirt and gropes you. âTheo!â You gasp at his actions. He buries his face on the crook of your neck, as he breathed in your scent before he began kissing it.
âCazzo,â he mumbles before he spat out another question, âWhat are the common ingredients and methods used to counteract the effects of different poisons?â You feel the tent in his pants growing, his cock pressing against your clothed cunt. âIââ You manage to get out before biting your lip, stifling a moan. You had reviewed this, but lust simply clouded your mind for you to formulate a cohesive answer.
âUm, er.. D-dittany, for uhm, venom,â you say, as Theo continued teasing you, grinding his hips upwards so that you could feel his dick. You moan at the friction on your pussy, feeling your panties get wet. âI..â You slur, unable to say anything further. âCockdrunk already, cara mia?â He lets out a guttural laugh, bending you over the table and grabbing your hips roughly as he continues grinding his cock on your pussy.Â
âDonât forget, Bezoar, for exampleââ he grunts, ââis a stone found in the stomach of certain magical creatures like goats. It's known for its ability to neutralise many poisons when ingested. Then there's the Antidote to Common PoisonsâŠâ He corrects you, adding more strings of information you probably needed. Though, it was not as if you were paying attention, as you were moving your hips hungrily back onto his dick, only being separated by thin fabric.Â
âMerda, might as well just fuck you if you keep getting my questions wrong, principessa.â He says, his voice dangerously low as you hear the clink of his belt unbuckling and the distinct sound of his fly unzipping. You look over your shoulder, watching him intently as he pulls down his dark grey boxers and frees his cock. âTheo, please,â you whine, as he smacks your ass and pushes your panties aside. âI thought you were too busy studying? Maybe I should just leave you to that,â he teases you, tapping his dick on your cunt and rubbing it in between your folds.
âNo, please,â you plead, and desperately you pressed yourself onto his cock. âBeg, cara mia,â he husked condescendingly, enjoying humiliating you as he continued teasing your wet pussy. âPlease, mmhnââ you moan, âIâm sorry, Theo. I-I need it, please, need your cock,â you whimper, flushed from embarrassment as he finally slipped the tip inside you. He pressed inside, at a gruellingly slow pace.Â
âCazzo, una puttana cosĂŹ sporca, arenât you huh?â You could not place your finger on a single word he said in Italian, but your pussy definitely could. He groaned loudly as he grew impatient, shoving the rest of his dick into you. His groin pressed flush against your ass. You moaned loudly at that, and with a swift motion, he reached out and clamped his hand over your mouth. âShh, cara mia,â he whispers sultrily in your ear as he quickly silences you, unwilling for the both of you to get caught.
You let out a few muffled sounds against his hand as he began thrusting into you, slowly drawing out his cock as he slammed it back into you with such force that the table beneath you shook. âSuch a slut arenât you? Merda,â He rasped as he uncovers your mouth, âyes!â you say, as heâs eliciting vulgar moans from you each time he fucked his dick back in.
He slithered his hand down onto your pussy, rubbing your clit. He leans in, grunting, as he kisses your nape. He sucks on your neck, trailing down to your back, leaving red marks as he sealed each one afterwards with a kiss. âTi senti cosĂŹ maledettamente bene, amore,â he groaned, only setting his pace rougher as he hit a particularly deep spot inside you, hitting your cervix.Â
âOh fuck, Theo,â you whine, as you tried to remain as quiet as you could. Your hands firmly grip onto the edges of the table, your nails digging into it, as he fucks you into oblivion. Tears brim at your eyes, as close them shut. Some teardrops cling onto your pretty lashes, and some flow down your cheek, falling down, staining the pages of your book. He loved watching you cry in pleasure, observing your expressions as he drove himself into you.
He loomed over you, using a hand to cup your jaw to force your head to look up at his face. âOpen your mouth, cara mia.â He said, an authoritative tone that rolled off his tongue like butter. You oblige, parting your lips, your tongue lolling out as you do. He spits in your mouth, the hand holding your chin clamping your jaw shut afterwards . âSwallow.â
You do as he says, swallowing his spit as he lets go of your jaw and your head hangs down soon after. With that, he fucks you rougher, his pace frantic. You become nothing short of a moaning mess, he returns his hand to your clit and strokes it rhythmically in time with his thrusts. You let out small whimpers and whines as you feel hazy and drunk on his cock.Â
Theo, in an intoxicated trance, mutters a string of curses and praises in Italian. You cry out his name in ecstasy with every jab at your sweet spot as he ploughs into you. You feel a familiar warmth pooling at your stomach, only feeling more pleasurable by the second. âTheo, mâgonna cum, T-Theo,â you babble almost incoherently. He leans in briefly, and in a gravelly tone, âCum on my cock, cara mia.â He says, letting his breath trickle down your neck.
Spasming around him, you dissolve into pleasure as you see stars. You selfishly clench around his dick, as if you wanted to milk him dry. Cumming all over his cock, you quite literally bury your face into your book, in an attempt to muffle the loud moan you let out as you do.Â
His thrusts grow languid and sloppy, hips stuttering unrhythmically as his climax nears. âWant me to cum inside you, principessa?â He husked, now digging his fingers into your hips as he chased his high. âYes, yes, mhnââ you chant, unable to think straight. âTheo, please,â you pleaded.Â
With one final thrust, he groans loudly and buries himself fully inside you and stuffs your pussy with his cum. You felt his cock pulsing inside you, both of you panting as he rode out his orgasm. âFuck, atta girl,â he says breathily, praising you as he pulls out of your cunt. He watches as you softly moan as you feel white globs of cum trickle out of your folds, dripping down your thighs.
He hastily tucks his cock back into his pants, pulling your skirt back in place as he walks (more like carries) you back to your common room that night before he headed back to his. Well, it was safe to say you definitely got nothing done that night, though he makes it up to you the following afternoon by actually helping you study with potions.
#slytherin boys#slytherin boys x reader#slytherin boys smut#thedore nott x reader#theodore nott#theodore nott smut#theodore nott x reader smut#theo nott#theodore nott imagine#theodore nott x you#theodore nott x y/n#harry potter universe#harry potter fanfiction#hp smut#theodore nott x reader
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SKZ arguing over the bill
Pairing: ot8!skz Ă gn!reader (individually)
Genre: fluff
Request: yes!
Warning: mentions of food, reader never pays lmao. Changbin, Chan, Seungmin's were heavily inspired by "Telling your Stray Kids boyfriend you canât afford to eat out with them" by @ronnierites . If you don't allow this pls lemme know and I'll delete this post. Not proofread
A/n: that's kinda a new format, hope you guys like it! And this have been on my to do list since forever lol sorry for the wait
Bang Chan
Doesn't want you to feel uncomfortable
But he wants to spoil you so badly
Would let you pay if you were uncomfortable but he wants to make sure you get it he would love to pay for you as well
"You know Chris, I can pay for it."
"I know."
"So?"
"I'd rather do it. But thank you baby."
"But-" you stopped talking once you saw his card swiping. You truly should be used at this point "oh."
"Why do I feel like you're unhappy?"
"It's not that I am not happy, it's just that you always pay."
"It's my pleasure."
"But I don't know, I don't want you to think you're being pressured or something like that."
"Babe, I don't feel like that at all. Don't you worry. You're always doing so much for me, that's just a little 'thank you' of mine."
You gave him a little smile and proceeded to hug him, feeling safe in his warmth.
"I'm so lucky to have you."
"I should be the one saying it."
Lee Know
Bro you don't even spare a chance
He's paying before you even have a chance to take your wallet out of your pocket
I'm surprised you even try tbh
"Should we ask for the bill?"
"Oh, I already paid for it, don't worry."
You looked dumbfounded at him while he was finishing his food. You didn't see him talk to a waiter and you're sure he didn't pay for it before you two had your meal.
"What? When?"
"When we were asking for the dishes. Didn't you see it?"
"No?" you tried to recall the moment with no success "Why would you pay? I feel bad that you pay for everything all the time. I don't feel like reciprocating enough."
His eyes soften and a little smile comes to his lips while he watches you pout. If only you knew how much you did for him.
"Hey, look at me. It's okay. You already reciprocate with everything you do. That's already perfect"
Changbin
He pays with the money, you pay back with kisses
Sorry but that's his boyfriend duty
He is physically incapable of not paying for everything
"Hey baby. I'm off work in 40 minutes. I'll pick you up so we can have lunch, okay?"
You were glad that for once you were on a voice call with him instead of being in a face time like you'd usually do. This way he didn't see the way your smile dropped so quickly.
"Um, I don't think I'll be able to."
"Oh? Why?"
"I'm kinda... broke right now. I haven't received my last payment yet."
"Okay? What does that have to do with anything?"
"I don't want you to be the one who always pays for our things. I should be able to pay sometimes."
"You don't need to. That's my boyfriend duty. You know I don't mind, I actually enjoy it quite a lot."
"Still bothers me though. I'd hate to not contribute at all."
"You can always cuddle with me and shower me with kisses. That will make me happier than anything money can buy."
Hyunjin
Stop he'll be like genuinely so sad if he can't pay
He would let you pay if you were really insistent
But then he'll go like :( and you would let him take the bill out of pity lmao
"Hyunjin, stop looking at me like that."
"But darling, I can pay. You know it doesn't bother me."
"Just this once, let me pay, okay?"
"Okay"
"...Jinnie I really need you to stop that."
"I'm not even doing anything."
"Oh God" you sigh and let your head fall, knowing the man beside you won the argument once more "Fine. You can pay."
He didn't waste a second, swiping his card as fast as possible just so you couldn't have the time to change your mind. After he payed the meal, he took your hand in his and started to walk in the direction of the restaurant's exit with a triumphant (and really sweet) smile.
"I swear I don't get why you like to pay so much."
"My love should be treated as royalty, and that includes me paying for everything you wish for."
Han
Bro is offended
Believes with all his heart that he should be the one paying
Tries to distract you when the time to pay comes
"Were you paying while I was in the restroom?"
"... perhaps."
"Han."
"Baby. You know I like to pay for you."
"But you do that all the time."
"It's my way of showing love! If you ask me, I actually don't think it's enough. It's the least I can do."
He could see in your eyes that you weren't convinced. Unfortunately (for you), he only saw that as an opportunity to spend even more money. Maybe then you would believe him.
"C'mon, lemme show you a little bit of love. You can pay me back with thousands of kisses if that's what's bothering you."
Felix
He loves to pay.
If he could, he would pay for absolutely everything that you could ever want or need.
But if that's something which really bothers you, he will let you pay as well
Tries to do that "the one who invites is the one who pays" thing and fails
"Felix. Don't even dare."
He looked at you confused until he realised you were staring at the credit card in his hand, probably hoping that it could disappear before the waiter came back with the bill.
"C'mon, it's just a small lunch. I can pay for it."
"No. I invited you. I pay."
"Actually, if you think about it, I'm the one who suggested this place."
"Two years ago."
"Still counts."
"Not as an invitation though. I'm the one who asked if you wanted to come here."
Felix sighed, knowing he wouldn't be able to convince you of otherwise. If only he could.
"Okay. Next time it's on me."
Seungmin
LMAO sorry you're 100% not paying
Don't even try
Boyfriend duty pt 2 except he is even more dedicated somehow
"Why did you bring your wallet?"
"I wanted to pay for this one."
"... why?"
"You always pay for everything."
"And I don't plan on stopping so you can take your wallet away."
"Minnie, please. I don't want you to be the one who always end up paying for everything."
"But I want to. I wouldn't mind paying for every single thing for the rest of our lives. So you can't take your money away of my sight because I'm paying."
"For the rest of our lives huh?"
"Don't tease." But you didn't miss how the corners of his lips lifted once he thought you weren't looking anymore.
I.N
Rock, paper, scissors. The winner is the one who pays
It's funny and neither of you can complain about the outcome of it because it's technically fair
Except you always throw scissors first and never noticed it
And Jeongin doesn't have the heart to tell you
"We should change this game."
"No way" he said while giving the money to the cashier whilst trying to hide his grin from you "Not my fault you are horrible at this."
"Seriously though, I think you're cheating. It's impossible for you to win every single time."
"How does one cheat at 'rock, paper, scissors'? Besides, you won yesterday."
"After losing at least 50 times. And I got to pay for some ice cream. It's not the same as paying for a whole meal."
"Get better at this and maybe you get to pay for a whole meal one day. C'mon, we can have some milkshake now. Maybe you'll win this time."
You had a feeling you wouldn't though. He was sure you wouldn't.
Reblogs and feedback are appreciated!
Dividers by @cafekitsune
#celi headcanon#skz fluff#stray kids soft thoughts#stray kids#stray kids soft hours#skz x reader#stray kids fluff#skz x you#stray kids x reader#skz#bang chan skz#bang chan fluff#bang chan#lee know#lee know fluff#changbin#changbin fluff#hyunjin#hyunjin fluff#felix#felix fluff#han#han fluff#seungmin#seungmin fluff#i.n#jeongin#i.n fluff
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Hello! There's just not so many sub! Kaiser fics and I'm d y i n g to read those đđ
Can I request for a sub! Kaiser x male reader where Kaiser has a praise kink but doesn't ever want to admit it đ
#a.n. :This is so same! Kaiser is such a babygirl, I want to kiss him, eat him, hug him, and then rock him in my arms and let him relax... But no, this bitch is always top, lol. Even funny.
"I don't like your damn praise! Just fuck me alreâ...What?"
!!Warnings: Bottom!Sub!Michael, Dom!Top!Reader, sex on an indoor football field (it's empty, it just seemed interesting to me, imagine the echo there...), praise kink obviously, Michael tries to be dominant, but he's too much of a pillow princess (he came out so gentle... In his own way), in fact everything is quite vanilla, but he kicks you when he's unhappy, also very romantic in general. Ă And the reader is somehow connected with football company. You can be a manager, a football player, or even a cleaner there, honestly.
The football field in the building was closed at night, knowing full well how persistent football players in the leagues can be. Darkness, silence, idyll... Except for the flashlight from the phone somewhere in the middle of the field and quiet groans echoing from the walls.
"Why did you decide to have sex here? Plus, at this time?" You ask, looking over at Michael, who was clutching at the trimmed grass in the lawn as you thrust into him at a careful, almost tremulous pace.
âI think you said yourself that you wanted to experiment... So weâre starting with something easy,â Blonde whispers, wincing from the unpleasant feeling of artificial grass in his hands, so he just hugs your neck lazily.
âWell, yes, but... You obviously have some other reasons. But I wonât push if you donât want to talk,â Michael just sighs at your words, but it immediately turns into a soft moan when your lips touch his neck.
âI just love the atmosphere in here, as weird as it sounds, so shut up and fuck me,â A disgruntled mutter escapes his lips, only to be cut short when he tilts his head back, giving you better access to his neck.
You look over his face, surprisingly too peaceful for him. Maybe this place really brought inner comfort to his soul, erasing all the doubts and burdens that he kept inside and sometimes shared with you. Maybe it was. But your heart broke at the sight of him for some reason, you understood his feelings more than anyone... Because you were probably the only one he was able to open up to so much.
âMicha? Youâre a good boy,â echoes from your lips almost casually, but with a sickly sweet note that you want to listen to forever and drown in these sweet speeches.
"What was it?"
You find yourself torn from examining his face by his question. And really, why did you say that? He didn't do anything special during your entire session, which lasted about half an hour. And you too... But one look at him is enough for you to understand why.
Your attentive gaze glides over his perfect facial features, long eyelashes giving his eyes an unusual softness and warmth. Instantly you feel the desire to say that he is beautiful, extraordinarily beautiful. Faithful hands, strength and tenderness in every touch, sincerity and warmth in every word, just for you. The desire to praise, to say how much love and kindness he has, how he is able to bring a smile even in the most cloudy weather.
His soul shines brighter than the stars in the sky, his smile can melt the heart of icy granite. The desire to praise, express gratitude for all the beauty and kindness that he brings into this world. He is not just a person, he is magic, miracle, a spark that pushes you to move even in your most difficult moments.
The words seem unfair, but the heart is filled with feelings that are impossible to carry on the wind. Praise, approval, love â all these are small before the greatness of his soul and his existence. You really want to tell him about this so that he understands how amazing and significant he is to you. Just as the sun rises every morning, he awakens in you a feeling of awe and admiration that seems endless and will remain so.
âBecause I love you,â You say without thinking, and immediately catch a light, rare blush on his cheeks.
His hand immediately drops down from your shoulder to cover the pink dust on his cheeks, but you intercept his hand, kissing his fingers tenderly, intertwining your fingers together.
"You idiot... Why so suddenly?" He asks, even if he doesn't wait for an answer, lightly kicking you in the side, groaning when you lean over him a little closer, hitting his sweet spot at a pleasant angle.
You find yourself thinking that you would worship him if he were God. Itâs not that you didnât already worship him... But he was definitely the person for whom even an atheist would reconsider their views on the world.
"Why suddenly? I'm always ready to praise you. You are tenacious, driven, incredibly smart, caring for those you care about in your own way... You are simply magnificent."
"Shut up, please shut up. I don't need your praise, just fuck me and..." He trails off, kicking you in the side again as he realizes something, "You didn't say that I'm handsome."
âYour beauty is a fact. But your appearance is far from the main thing that you have, even if you think differently... But if I started to list what I like about you externally, then we would move on to dithyrambs and ballads, and not to the climax."
Michael chuckles, finally distracted from contemplating you in response, realizing that he really feels a knot growing in his stomach. In general, he would never admit that he would be glad to listen to these dithyrambs and ballads and much more if it came from you. He's always taken praise for granted because, yes, he's Michael Kaiser, but now? He's just a puddle in your hands that's trying to look like ice.
âIâm not clenching around your cock right now because...â He cuts himself off, groaning as your mouth sucks on his neck in the area of his tattoo, âItâs not because I liked the praise, is that clear to both of us?â
âOf course, my King, as you say,â You say, biting the skin of his neck, causing him to whimper quietly as one of your hands slides to his cock, stroking it in time with your thrusts.
Your pace gradually picks up as you get closer too. And the sight of Michael, who clearly enjoyed your previous praise, did not at all ease your hard-on, nor did the warm walls around him.
"Call me!" He suddenly shouts, kicking you in the side once again, although you have no idea what he means at first, pulling away from his neck.
"Good boy?" You ask cautiously and to your surprise and pleasure, his cock twitches in your palm, and after a few thrusts he actually comes, squeezing you tighter than usual, which is why you canât help but cum, thrusting into him a couple of times in post-orgasmic bliss, and then laying down on his chest.
The quiet rhythm of his heartbeat calmed you as he lightly ran his hand through your hair. You were both regaining your more than ragged breaths before the comfortable silence was interrupted by a question that made you chuckle hoarsely.
âWhy did you ask this and not state it as a fact?â
#seme male reader#top male reader#dom male reader#a!writes.#sub character#sub blue lock#blue lock smut#blue lock x male reader#blue lock x reader#sub bllk#bllk x male reader#bllk smut#bllk x reader#michael kaiser x reader#michael kaiser x male reader#sub michael kaiser#michael kaiser smut
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drunk tonight â ryomen sukuna.
"Yes, we can." he murmurs, his voice a soft, dominant caress that contrasts sharply with the intensity of the moment. His lips press against your jaw with a sharp, possessive kiss, and you feel your head loll against his, unable to escape the overwhelming sensations. His words are both a promise and a demand, a statement that attempts to bridge the gap between the pain and the passion youâre experiencing. "Because I love you. And you love me."
GENRE: alternate universe - modern au!;
WARNING/S: nsfw, angst, toxic romance, hurt/no comfort, break up, fighting, crying, hurt, physical touch, sexual content, sadness, pain, grief, unhappy ending, depictions of toxic relationship, depiction of grief, depiction of fighting, depiction of sexual content, depiction of loneliness, mention of grief, mention of sexual context, mention of loneliness, toxic ex-boyfriend! sukuna, long suffering ex-girlfriend! reader;
WORD COUNT: 9.4k words
NOTE: the thought bubble says "yes, we can." and "because i love you. and you love me."; i wrote this a while back but i was waiting for the poll to end. but if sukuna wins, then he definitely has his stuff posted first. somehow, sukuna always wins my polls đđđ anyway, i hope you love this one too!!! i love you all đ«¶đ«¶đ«¶
masterlist
if you want to, tip! <3
âŹÎčââââââââââââââÎčâŹ
YOU DONâT WANT TO ANSWER THE PHONE. Late at night, your phone buzzes, its vibration cutting through the silence like a knife. You glance at the screen, feeling a chill run down your spine as you recognize the number. Itâs a number you know all too well, one that youâve tried to erase from your mind but could never quite forget, no matter how hard you tried.
A sigh escapes your lips, your heart sinking as Sukunaâs name flashes across the screen. Itâs a name that once brought you comfort, excitement, even love. But now, itâs just a reminder of everything that went wrong, of the hurt and the scars that never fully healed.
Youâve blocked him on everythingâsocial media, messaging apps, even email. You thought you had cut off every possible avenue for him to reach you, but he always remembered your phone number.Â
He was always good at thatâmemorizing details, knowing exactly how to reach you when you least wanted him to. It was one of the things that drew you to him in the first place, his ability to know you so well, to be so in tune with you. But now, itâs a curse, a reminder that no matter how far you try to run, he can always find you.
The text is a mess of jumbled letters and half-formed words, the kind of message that only makes sense to the sender. You can almost hear his deep, slurred voice in your head as you read it, the way he used to talk when he was too far gone, too deep into the bottle. Heâs drunk, that much is obvious, and the thought makes your stomach churn.
You roll your eyes, frustration bubbling up inside you. Thereâs nothing worse than a drunk ex-text. Itâs a toxic mix of emotionsâregret, anger, longingâall wrapped up in a few poorly typed words. You know how this goes, how the night will unravel if you let it.Â
Heâll keep texting, maybe even call, and each message will be more desperate, more incoherent than the last. Heâll say things he doesnât mean, make promises he canât keep, and youâll be left holding the pieces of a conversation that never should have happened.
For a moment, you consider ignoring it, just turning off your phone and pretending you never saw it. But you know that wonât make it go away. You know that as long as Sukuna has your number, as long as he has a way to reach you, this cycle will keep repeating itself.
You take a deep breath, your fingers hovering over the screen. You could respond, tell him to stop, to leave you alone once and for all. But part of you knows that wonât work either. Youâve told him before, and yet here you are, staring at another late-night message from the man you once loved.
Your thumb hovers over the message, the words blurring in your tired eyes. You want to be strong, to resist the pull of old emotions and familiar patterns. But thereâs a part of you thatâs still connected to him, a part that wants to reach out, to understand why he canât just let you go.
But you know better. Youâve been down this road too many times before. And as much as it hurts, as much as it feels like tearing a piece of your heart out, you know what you have to do. With a sigh, you delete the message, your chest tightening as you do. You close your eyes, trying to block out the guilt, the sadness, the tiny voice in your head that says maybe this time will be different. But you know it wonât. It never is.
You canât even muster the energy to be angry. Itâs all too familiar, the cycle of hurt and regret that you both keep getting sucked into. You start typing back, your fingers trembling slightly with the weight of it all.
âSukuna, stop. Wherever you are, just stop.â You hesitate, your thumb hovering over the screen. But you need to say thisâyou need to finally put it to rest. âThis hurts, all of it. Itâs a mess, and weâve broken up. You need to stop chasing after me. We canât go back.â
Thereâs a long pause. You wonder if heâll leave it at that, but another text pings through.
âI canât⊠I canât live with this without trying. PleaseâŠâ
You swallow hard, feeling the ache in your chest, but youâve made up your mind. This is a wound that needs to heal, and reopening it will only make it worse.
âSukuna, Iâm done. You need to be, too.â You send the message, and this time, you turn off your phone. The silence that follows is almost deafening, but itâs the first step towards finally moving on.
You purse your lips, staring at the screen as his last message burns into your mind. You know heâs just too drunk tonight. He doesnât really want you backânot the way he thinks he does. Heâs just broken inside, sad and high, and you can feel the weight of his loneliness pressing through the words.
A lump forms in your throat as the urge to cry wells up again. It hurts because deep down, you know the truth. He doesnât want you back. Heâs just lonely, aching for something familiar to fill the void. Youâve been there before, reaching out in desperation, hoping for comfort in the arms of someone who used to mean everything. But that was then, and this is now.
You type slowly, forcing yourself to keep going, even though each word feels like a knife twisting deeper into your heart. "Sukuna, youâre not really after me. Youâre just lonely and sad, and I get that. But this⊠us⊠itâs over. We ended things for a reason."
Your fingers hesitate over the next part, but you push through the pain. "We hurt each other too much. I didnât want to be with you anymore because all we did was tear each other apart. And I donât want that for either of us."
You take a shaky breath, knowing what you need to say, even if it feels like ripping off a bandage from a wound that hasnât fully healed. "So put down the phone, Sukuna. Itâs time to go home. Youâre just drunk tonight.â
You hit send, and the tears that youâve been holding back finally spill over. Youâve been strong for so long, but tonight, in the quiet of your room, you allow yourself to feel the full weight of everything youâve lost and everything youâve chosen to leave behind.
You ended things because you knew it was the right thing to do, but that doesnât make it any easier. And even though youâre telling him to move on, a part of you is whispering the same words to yourself. Itâs time to let go, for real this time. Itâs time to heal, even if that means facing the pain head-on and accepting that some things can never be fixed.
Your phone rings, and your heart sinks as you see his name flashing across the screen. You hesitate, your thumb hovering over the decline button. You know you shouldnât answer, know that nothing good can come from this. But some part of youâmaybe out of concern, maybe out of habitâhits the green button.
âSukuna, donâtââ
âIâm on my way.â he interrupts, his voice slurred but filled with a determination that chills you. âI need to see you. We need to talk.â
Your stomach drops, and a sense of dread washes over you. âNo, Sukuna. Donât do this. Youâre not thinking straight.â
Thereâs a pause on the other end, a brief silence where you can hear him breathing heavily, as if heâs fighting to keep his composure. âI have to see you.â he repeats, softer this time, almost pleading. âPlease. IâŠ..I want to see you. I wannaâŠI wanna be with you.â
âSukuna, please.â you say, your voice trembling. âYouâre drunk, youâre not yourself. Turn around and go home. Youâre only going to make this harderâfor both of us.â
âI donât care.â he snaps, and you can hear the desperation creeping into his voice. A desperation thatâs never been there before. âI canât keep living like this, pretending I donât need you. Iâll be there soon.â
Panic starts to set in. You feel trapped, knowing that no amount of reasoning will get through to him tonight. âSukuna, if you show up here, I wonât open the door. I mean it.â
Thereâs a harsh laugh on the other end. âYou will. You always do.â
His words hit you like a punch to the gut because theyâre true, or at least they were. You canât deny the history between you two, the countless times youâve stood at the edge of this same precipice, teetering between resolve and surrender.Â
How many times had you given in, opened the door, and let him back into your life, even when every fiber of your being screamed that you shouldnât? Youâve lost count, the memories blurring together into a painful montage of late-night confessions, tearful apologies, and broken promises.
Each time, you told yourself it would be the last. You would stand firm, hold your ground, and finally cut the ties that bound you to him. But then he would show upâvulnerable, raw, and desperateâand the walls you had so carefully constructed would crumble in an instant.Â
He knew exactly how to reach you, how to twist the knife just enough to remind you of what you once had, what you once were. And for a fleeting moment, youâd believe that maybe, just maybe, things could be different this time.
But they never were. The darkness that surrounded him, that clung to your relationship like a shroud, always found a way to seep back in. It would start slowlyâa harsh word here, a lingering silence thereâbut soon, it would consume you both, dragging you back into a toxic cycle of pain and regret. Each time you let him back in, you lost a little more of yourself, a little more of the light that once defined who you were.
But you canât do that anymore. You canât keep losing pieces of yourself to a love that no longer serves you, to a relationship that has long since become a shadow of what it once was. Youâve fought too hard to reclaim your life, to step out of the darkness and into the light of something better, something healthier. Youâve built yourself back up, brick by brick, and you canât let him tear it all down again.
This time, it has to be different. This time, you canât open the door, no matter how much he begs, no matter how much it hurts to turn him away. You canât let him drag you back into the darkness that you fought so hard to escape. You deserve moreâmore than late-night texts filled with empty promises, more than a love that only thrives in the shadows. You deserve peace, stability, and a future that isnât haunted by the ghosts of a past you canât change.
So you take a deep breath, steeling yourself against the familiar pull of his words, the seductive lure of what could have been. You remind yourself of the pain, the nights spent crying, the days filled with anxiety and doubt. You remind yourself that youâve survived without him, that youâve thrived in ways you never could have imagined when you were still caught in his web.
And as much as it hurts, as much as it feels like a betrayal of everything you once held dear, you know that you have to let him go. You have to close the door, lock it, and walk awayâthis time for good. Because if you donât, youâll never truly be free. And freedom, you realize, is worth more than any fleeting moment of comfort he could offer. You canât let him pull you back into the darkness. Youâve come too far, and itâs time to finally step into the light.
âNo, I wonât.â you say, forcing steel into your voice. âNot this time. If you care about me at all, youâll turn around and go home. Youâll stop this before it gets worse.â
He doesnât respond right away, and for a moment, you think maybe, just maybe, heâll listen. But then he speaks again, his voice rough and broken. âIâm almost there. Just⊠wait for me.â
Your heart is racing now, your mind scrambling for what to do. âSukuna, if you come here, Iâll call the police. Iâm serious.â
Thereâs a sharp intake of breath on the other end, and then, finally, silence. You think heâs hung up, but then he speaks again, his voice barely above a whisper. âIâm sorry⊠Iâm sorry for everything. But I have to try.â
He hangs up before you can respond, leaving you standing there, staring at your phone with your heart pounding in your chest. You feel sick, torn between the history you share and the need to protect yourself from the man heâs become.
You take a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions swirling inside you. You donât want to call the police, donât want to escalate things that far, but you need to be ready. You need to stay strong, for your own sake.
With trembling hands, you lock your door, turn off the lights, and sit down on the edge of your bed, phone clutched tightly in your hand. You wait, praying that heâll turn around, that heâll finally realize that what you had is gone, and itâs time to let it go. But deep down, you know this isnât overânot tonight, not until heâs standing at your door, and youâre forced to make the hardest decision of your life.
The minutes tick by slowly, each one heavier than the last. You sit in the dark, your breath shallow and your nerves frayed, listening for any sound that might signal his arrival. Every car that passes by your window makes your heart jump, your mind conjuring images of him stumbling out, determined and reckless.
You think back to the times when things were good between you two, when his intensity was something you admired, even loved. But that intensity had turned into something else, something darker and more destructive, and you couldnât let it consume you both any longer.
Your phone vibrates again, pulling you out of your thoughts. Another message from Sukuna:
âIâm here.â
You freeze, your blood running cold. Heâs close, maybe right outside. You stand up slowly, moving toward the window with a mix of dread and resolve. Peering through the curtains, you see his figure in the dim light, leaning against a lamppost across the street, his silhouette unmistakable.
He looks up, and even from this distance, you can see the torment in his eyes, the way his shoulders sag with the weight of whatever heâs carrying. But you canât let that sway you. Youâve made your choice, and you need to stand by it.
Your phone vibrates again, the familiar buzz sending a jolt through your already frayed nerves. You donât even need to look at the screen to know itâs him. The notification hangs in the air like a weight, pressing down on your chest, making it hard to breathe.
With a trembling hand, you unlock your phone, the brightness of the screen almost blinding in the darkness of your room. His message is there, short and desperate, the words filled with a plea that youâve heard too many times before:
âPlease, just open the door. We can talk, I swear. I wonât make a scene.â
You close your eyes, willing yourself to stay calm, to keep the tears at bay. His voice echoes in your mind, the deep, gravelly tone that once brought you comfort now only serves to break you down. You can almost picture him on the other side of that door, his eyes wide with that familiar mix of anger and sadness, his posture tense with anticipation. Heâs close, so close that you can feel his presence like a shadow creeping over your heart.
It would be so easy to give in, to let him in one more time, to listen to whatever promises he has prepared for tonight. After all, youâve done it beforeâopened that door despite knowing it would lead to nothing but more heartache. But tonight feels different. Tonight, thereâs a finality in the air, a sense that if you open that door now, it wonât just be another mistake; it will be the last one, the one that shatters whatever remnants of strength youâve managed to hold onto.
You swallow hard, your throat tight with the urge to cry. You know him too well; you know he wonât leave unless you confront him, unless you face him head-on. Heâs stubborn like that, relentless in his pursuit of what he wants, even when itâs somethingâor someoneâthatâs no longer his to claim.Â
But you also know, deep in your bones, that opening that door is the last thing you should do. Itâs a line you canât cross, not this time. Because if you do, youâll be dragged right back into the storm youâve fought so hard to escape. Youâll be pulled into his orbit, where everything is chaotic and intense, where love and pain are intertwined so tightly that you canât tell where one ends and the other begins.
You take a shaky breath, your hand hovering over the door handle as your mind races. What could he possibly say that he hasnât already said? What could he promise that he hasnât already broken? The answers are clear, but the pull of the past is strong, and it tugs at you with a force thatâs hard to resist.
But you have to resist. You have to stay strong, for your own sake. Because you know that once you open that door, once you let him back in, all the progress youâve made, all the nights youâve spent rebuilding yourself, will be undone. Youâll be right back where you startedâlost, hurt, and wondering why you ever let him back into your life.
Your heart aches with the weight of it all, but you know what you have to do. You know that tonight, you have to choose yourself, even if it means walking away from someone you once loved with every part of your being.Â
So you close your eyes, forcing yourself to breathe through the pain, to let it wash over you without letting it consume you. You clench your fists, nails digging into your palms as you fight back the urge to cry, to scream, to throw open that door and let everything unravel.
But you donât. You stay where you are, standing firm in the decision youâve made. Because tonight, for the first time in a long time, youâre choosing to protect your heart instead of breaking it all over again.
You steady your breathing, forcing yourself to stay calm as the reality of the situation sinks in. Each vibration of your phone feels like a pulse of pain, a reminder of the emotional battleground youâre standing on. You know that answering the door would only open the floodgates, allowing the turmoil and chaos of the past to flood back into your life. Youâve fought so hard to reclaim your peace, and you refuse to let it slip away now.
With a deep breath, you take a moment to center yourself. You remind yourself of the reasons youâve decided to cut ties, the countless times youâve faced heartache, and the strength it took to rebuild your life. This decision, though painful, is a necessary step to ensure you donât lose everything youâve worked so hard to achieve.
You get up and move to your front door, standing just a few inches away. The cold, unyielding surface feels like a barrier between you and the chaos youâve left behind. You listen for any soundsâfootsteps, a knockâbut the night is eerily quiet, punctuated only by the occasional rumble of distant traffic. Itâs as if the world itself is holding its breath, waiting for you to make the choice that will define this moment.
Another message from Sukuna pings through, and you resist the urge to check it. Instead, you focus on the decision at hand, the choice youâve already made. You know that the best way to move forward is to keep the past where it belongsâbehind you.
You glance at your phone once more and see that Sukuna has called you again. Your heart races, but you refuse to answer. You let the call go to voicemail, the familiar chime sounding distant and detached. Each unanswered call is a step towards reclaiming your autonomy, towards making it clear that you will not be dragged back into the emotional mess that has defined your relationship.
The minutes tick by slowly, each one feeling like an eternity. Finally, thereâs silenceâno more texts, no more calls. You take a deep breath, letting the calm settle over you. You feel the weight of your decision settle into your bones, a mixture of relief and sorrow. Youâve chosen to protect yourself, to preserve the hard-earned peace youâve fought for.
As you turn away from the door, you feel a mixture of sadness and strength. The pain of seeing Sukunaâs name, the torment of his pleas, is still fresh, but youâve managed to hold firm. Youâve chosen not to open the door, not to let him back into your life. This choice, as difficult as it was, is a testament to your resolve, to your commitment to yourself.
You sit back down, wrapping yourself in a blanket of quiet determination. The tears youâve fought so hard to keep at bay finally come, not as a sign of weakness but as a release of all the emotions youâve been holding inside. Theyâre a reminder of your humanity, of the depth of your feelings, but theyâre also a sign of your strengthâstrength you needed to make the right decision, no matter how hard it was.
Youâve done what you needed to do to protect your heart, and now, you allow yourself to grieve, to heal, and to move forward. You close your eyes, letting the tears flow, and in the silence of your room, you begin the process of letting go, knowing that youâve taken a crucial step toward finding the peace and happiness you deserve.
You reach for your phone, your hands trembling slightly as you begin to type out a message. You need to be firm, clear, and compassionate, even if youâre struggling with your own emotions. You know that any form of communication right now will only complicate things, but you also want to make sure Sukuna understands the finality of your decision.
With a deep breath, you type:
âSukuna, I canât talk to you right now. Please, just go home. We canât have this conversation tonight. I need some space, and I need you to respect that. Please understand and go home.â
You hit send, watching as the message is delivered. For a moment, you feel a flicker of hope that this will be the end of it, that heâll respect your wishes and leave you alone. Youâve made your boundaries clear, and now itâs up to him to honor them.
Minutes pass in tense silence, and your phone stays quiet. You sit back down, trying to calm your racing heart, focusing on the quiet around you instead of the anxiety that has taken root in your chest.
But then, a new message comes through. You donât even need to look to know that itâs from Sukuna. With a heavy heart, you open it:
âI just need to see you. Iâm sorry for everything, but I canât let this end like this. Please.â
You can almost hear the desperation in his words, the anguish that comes from knowing heâs losing you. But you also know that this isnât just about you and him anymore. Itâs about your own well-being, your need to set boundaries and stick to them, even when itâs incredibly hard.
You type back:
âNo, Sukuna. This is not the time. Iâve made my decision, and I need you to respect it. I canât keep doing this. Please, just go home.â
You hit send, feeling the weight of your words settle heavily on your shoulders. Youâre asking for something that feels almost impossibleâto respect a boundary when emotions are high, when both of you are vulnerable. But itâs necessary.Â
You put your phone aside and try to find a way to soothe the emotional storm inside you. You remind yourself of why you made this decision, of the personal growth youâve achieved, and the need to maintain your peace. You try to focus on the positives of your life and the future youâre working toward, hoping that with time, the pain of this moment will fade and youâll find a way to heal.
Hours tick by slowly, each minute feeling like an eternity. Finally, thereâs a quiet relief in knowing that, at least for now, youâve done all you can. Youâve set your boundaries and communicated your needs as clearly as possible.
You let yourself close your eyes, allowing the exhaustion to wash over you. The road to recovery will be long and fraught with moments like this, but for tonight, youâve taken a crucial step toward reclaiming your life. As you drift into a fitful sleep, you hold onto the hope that tomorrow will bring clarity and a renewed sense of peace, allowing you to continue moving forward.
âŹÎčââââââââââââââÎčâŹ
IF THERE WAS A LOVE STORY WORTH MENTIONING, ITâS YOURS. Because in truth, it wasnât a love story. It was a painful hurt instead. The romance between you and Sukuna was a tumultuous symphony of passion and pain, a story that oscillated between intense highs and devastating lows. It was a love that consumed everything in its path, leaving behind a trail of broken dreams and shattered hearts.Â
You, the good girl with a heart full of hope and idealism, and him, the quintessential troublemaker whose very presence seemed to stir chaos wherever he went. It was a match made in hell, an explosive combination of purity and defiance that sparked with an almost palpable intensity.Â
From the beginning, there was an undeniable chemistry between you two, a magnetic pull that drew you into Sukunaâs orbit. You were drawn to his raw energy, the way he seemed to live on the edge of every emotion, pushing boundaries and challenging norms. His life was a whirlwind of excitement and unpredictability, and it was a stark contrast to the more controlled and orderly world you inhabited.
At first, the contrasts were thrilling. Your calm demeanor and responsible nature seemed to balance out his reckless tendencies, creating a dynamic that felt electric and invigorating. You believed that your love could be the force that tamed his wildness, that your stability could anchor him amidst his stormy existence.
But as time went on, the initial thrill gave way to a more complex and painful reality. Sukunaâs troublemaking ways began to seep into every aspect of your relationship, turning what was once exciting into something exhausting. His impulsiveness, once charming, became a source of constant stress and conflict. The very qualities that attracted you to him started to feel like burdens, and the harmony you sought began to slip through your fingers.
The highs were dizzyingâmoments of intense connection and fiery passion that made you feel alive and on top of the world. But the lows were equally devastating, each conflict leaving deeper wounds, each argument a reminder of how differently you saw the world. The love that had once seemed like a perfect escape from your own constraints now felt like a whirlwind of chaos that you couldnât control.
Your attempts to bring order and stability to the relationship often clashed with Sukunaâs need for freedom and rebellion. The more you tried to ground him, the more he resisted, and the cycle of conflict and resolution became a relentless pattern. The love that once felt like a daring adventure turned into a series of battles, each one leaving both of you more scared than the last.
Ultimately, the contrast between your worlds proved too great. The boundaries you set were repeatedly crossed, the promises made were broken too many times. The passion that had once ignited your connection became the fuel for your destruction. What began as a match made in hell had devolved into a battlefield of emotional devastation.
You were left to pick up the pieces of a love that had burned too brightly, too destructively. The remnants of your time together were a stark reminder of the dangers of mixing such opposing forces. In the end, the love you shared was a powerful testament to the intense beauty and agony of a relationship that, despite its fiery start, was doomed from the beginning.
From the beginning, the relationship was marked by a magnetic pull that was impossible to ignore. Sukuna's charisma and intensity drew you in, his presence filling every space with an almost palpable energy. There was a fire in his eyes, a promise of something deeper and more profound, and you were captivated by the allure of his raw power and unfiltered emotions.
At first, it felt like a dream. His touch was electric, his words charged with a potent mix of desire and vulnerability. You would get lost in his gaze, swept away by the intensity of his kisses, believing that this was what true love was supposed to feel like. Every argument, every make-up, every moment of passion felt like a confirmation of the bond you shared.
You couldnât stand it anymore, how tired you were. How truly full of it you were. how emotionally drained youâve been. You found yourself face-to-face with Sukuna in the dimly lit living room. He stood close, his gaze intense and his voice almost a whisper, yet filled with an undeniable gravity.
"I'm sorry." Sukuna said, his eyes searching yours for some sign of forgiveness. "I never meant for things to get so out of hand. I just... I can't stand the thought of losing you."
You could feel the weight of his words, the sincerity mixed with a touch of desperation. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart.
"You say that now, but it feels like weâre always back here, fighting and making up," you replied, your voice trembling slightly. "I thought this was supposed to be different. I thought we were building something real."
Sukuna reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek with a gentleness that belied his earlier anger. "It is real. What we have is intense, but itâs real. I know I mess up, but I need you to understand that I canât imagine my life without you. Youâre everything to me."
You looked at him, feeling the familiar mix of pain and passion. âI donât know if I can keep doing this, Sukuna. Every time we fight, it feels like weâre tearing each other apart. Maybe this intensity isnât what I thought it was.â
He stepped closer, his voice filled with an earnest plea. âPlease, donât say that. We can work through this. I know Iâm not perfect, but we have something special. We just need to fight for it, not let it slip away because of a few mistakes.â
You shook your head, tears welling up. âItâs not just a few mistakes. Itâs the pattern, the way things keep repeating. I want to believe in us, but itâs getting harder every day. Weâre not just having moments of passion anymore; weâre living in a storm.â
Sukunaâs expression softened, and he pulled you into a tight embrace. âI donât want to be the storm in your life. I just want to be with you. Please, let me show you that we can be more than this.â
As his arms wrapped around you, the warmth of his body was a stark contrast to the cold reality of your situation. You said nothing as you leaned into the warmth of his body. The intensity of his words and the fire in his eyes were a powerful reminder of his hold on you. You forgave him that night once again, as you always did. And once again, you were trapped.
But beneath the surface of this passionate connection lay a darker undercurrent, one that grew stronger with time. Sukuna's emotional volatility was not just a fleeting characteristic; it was a core part of who he was. His moods shifted with little warning, swinging from intense affection to cold detachment. What seemed like an endearing quirk quickly revealed itself as a source of profound instability.
Sukuna's massive hand moved to your hair, his fingers tangling in the strands you had painstakingly did. You were ignoring him again after your recent fight. You just wanted peace of mind from him. And you knew that he hated being ignored. You know he hated being forgotten. You were the only person in his life that dealt with him, all his everything â and to not have you there shatters him. As much, you suppose, when he shatters you by loving you.
His other hand wrapped around your side, pulling you closer against him with a possessive strength. You felt the heat of his body pressing against yours, his touch both demanding and overwhelming. He leaned in, his breath hot against your neck as he started to kiss and nibble along your skin.
The kisses were intense, growing more fervent until he bit down, his teeth breaking through the delicate skin. A cry escaped your lips, a mix of pain and confusion. You could feel Sukuna speaking against your skin, his voice muffled and indistinct, but the words were lost in the haze of sensation and hurt.
The pressure of his hand on the back of your neck was unrelenting, anchoring you to him and heightening the intensity of the moment. It was only when his fingers pressed firmly against the nape of your neck that everything snapped into focus. The sharp reality of the situation cut through the fog, pulling you back to the present.
The biting pain, the tight grip, and the overwhelming closeness were all too much. You could see the raw, unfiltered emotion in his eyes, the storm of feelings that often clouded his judgment. In that moment, you were starkly aware of the power dynamics at play, the fine line between passion and control, and the deep-seated turmoil that defined your relationship.
The kiss, now a blend of pain and longing, was a stark reminder of the complexity of your loveâboth fierce and destructive. The intimacy of the touch, the raw intensity, and the sharp bite were all part of the same emotional spectrum, where passion and pain were often intertwined in ways that left you feeling vulnerable and conflicted.
You could feel your skin growing moist, a cold sweat breaking out across your entire body as you struggled to maintain your sanity against his relentless touch. Ryomen Sukuna had a way of overwhelming you, of winning you over even when you were trying to resist. His touch always managed to reach places you thought were well-guarded, stirring up sensations that you couldnât ignore. You could feel your body betraying you, slick pooling between your legs, a stark contrast to the turmoil inside your mind.
With a swift movement, Sukuna pinned you against the wall, his body pressing hard against yours. His kisses grew even more rough and demanding, each press of his lips a reminder of the intensity and chaos that defined your relationship. His hands roamed over your chest, fingers pinching and teasing, heightening the mix of pleasure and pain.
"Sukuna, slow down. It hurts." you cried out, your voice wavering as you tried to make yourself heard over the roar of conflicting emotions. The rawness in your voice was a plea for understanding, a desperate attempt to make him see the damage being done. "Sukuna, we... oh, we won't fix anything with this."
His grip faltered for a moment, but only just. He paused, his breath ragged and heavy against your skin, his eyes dark with a mixture of frustration and desire. There was a flicker of hesitation, a moment where he seemed to question the reality of the situation. But the tension in his body remained, the emotional storm far from over.
Your heart pounded as you struggled to maintain your composure, to hold onto a shred of clarity amidst the haze of his touch. The physical connection was undeniable, but it was the emotional wreckage that left you feeling most exposed. The passion that once felt exhilarating now seemed like a dangerous force that threatened to consume you both.
"Yes, we can." he murmurs, his voice a soft, dominant caress that contrasts sharply with the intensity of the moment. His lips press against your jaw with a sharp, possessive kiss, and you feel your head loll against his, unable to escape the overwhelming sensations.
His words are both a promise and a demand, a statement that attempts to bridge the gap between the pain and the passion youâre experiencing. "Because I love you. And you love me."
The declaration hangs heavily in the air, mingling with the heat of the moment. You mewl softly, a sound of both surrender and confusion. His touch and words are a potent mix, stirring emotions that youâve been trying to keep in check.Â
In your turmoil, you find yourself grappling with the truth of his words. The love you shared is undeniable, and itâs clear he still feels it deeply. Yet, the intensity of him and the roughness of his touch make it hard to reconcile with the pain and frustration that have become a part of your relationship.
"Even if you love meâŠ.." you manage to say, your voice trembling. "We canât fix everything like this. Weâre hurting each other, Sukuna.â
He doesnât pull away, his gaze fixed on yours with an intensity that makes it difficult to look away. The struggle between your emotions and his unyielding desire leaves you feeling torn, caught between the remnants of your past connection and the harsh reality of the present.
Sukunaâs grip remains firm, his dark red eyes not leaving yours. In this moment, the lines between love and pain blur â as it was with your relationship. The declaration of love feels both comforting and confounding, leaving you with the painful realization that while feelings might persist, the way youâre handling them is only adding to the emotional wreckage. You were in love with him as much as he was with you. But what was the point of this? Of this suffering?
But as he pleasured you, you never said anything. You just let him love you painfully, because thatâs all he knew. It was a raw, visceral form of connection, a way he expressed what he felt, even if it was damaging. It was all he could give, the only way he knew how to bridge the gap between you.
As you felt him inside of you, there was a deep, painful connection that mingled with the physical sensations. It was a painful reminder of the way your love had always beenâintense, consuming, and sometimes overwhelmingly conflicted. The pleasure was intertwined with the hurt, making it difficult to distinguish one from the other.Â
You accepted it, allowing the moment to unfold as it did. In your mind, you grappled with the reality of your situationârecognizing that this was how Sukuna knew to express his love, even if it was fraught with pain. And so, in the midst of the storm of sensations, you let yourself be caught up in the complexity of your emotions, trying to find a semblance of understanding amidst the chaos.
Arguments became frequent, fueled by misunderstandings and a growing sense of frustration. The intensity that once seemed thrilling now felt suffocating. Sukuna's need for control and dominance clashed with your desire for independence, creating a constant struggle for power. What was once exhilarating now felt like an endless cycle of conflict and resolution, each cycle leaving deeper emotional scars you didnât want.
The tension in the air was palpable. You were sitting on the edge of the bed, your hands clenched in frustration, while Sukuna stood across the room, his posture rigid with anger and jealousy. His eyes were fixed on you, his gaze fierce and unrelenting, the result of a recent encounter with one of your friends who had been a bit too touchy for his liking.
"Youâre always so quick to run off." Sukuna snapped, his voice sharp and laced with irritation. "Why canât you just stay and deal with things like an adult? Iâve seen the way you look at others. Do you think Iâm blind?"
You turned to face him, your heart pounding with a mix of anger and desperation. "Itâs not about anyone else. Itâs about us. Youâre always so controlling. You want to dictate every part of my life. I need space, Sukuna. I need to be able to breathe."
His eyes flared with frustration as he stepped closer, the intensity of his emotions almost tangible. "Space? Thatâs what you call it? I saw the way you were with him tonight. Itâs like youâre trying to push me away, like youâre looking for excuses to slip through my fingers."
You stood up, feeling the weight of his words pressing down on you. "Itâs not about looking for excuses. Iâm not trying to push you away. I just need to feel like I can make my own choices without feeling like Iâm under constant surveillance. This isnât about him. Itâs about the way youâre smothering me."
Sukunaâs frustration was evident in the way he paced the room, his fists clenched at his sides. "Smothering you? Iâm just trying to hold onto what we have. If youâd stop running and actually listen, maybe we could work things out. But every time I turn around, it feels like youâre slipping further away."
"Youâre not holding onto what we have, Sukuna." you said, your voice trembling. "Youâre suffocating me. Every time we have an argument, you try to control me even more. I need space to figure out what I want without feeling like Iâm being watched and judged every second."
Sukuna stopped pacing and looked at you with a mixture of anger and hurt. "I donât want to control you. I want to be with you, but it feels like youâre constantly pushing me away. I just donât know how to handle it when I see you getting close to others. It makes me feel like Iâm losing you."
The room fell silent, the air thick with unresolved emotions. You could see the pain in his eyes, the fear of losing you. But you also felt the deep, suffocating grip of his jealousy and control. The love that once felt exciting now seemed like a battleground, and the constant cycle of arguments and attempts at resolution were leaving both of you emotionally drained.
"I donât want us to keep going in circles like this, Sukuna." you said softly, your heart aching. "We need to find a way to be together without this constant struggle. Otherwise, weâre just going to keep hurting each other."
Sukunaâs gaze softened slightly, but the tension remained. "I donât know how to change things if you wonât let me in, you know that." he said, his voice a mix of vulnerability and frustration. "I just want us to be okay, but it feels like weâre constantly fighting against each other."
You took a deep breath, trying to remain calm despite the sting of his accusation. "That wasnât flirting. I was just being polite. And even if I was, what does it matter? You canât keep trying to control me like this. We canât keep doing this.â
He stepped closer, his anger palpable. "You think youâre so perfect, donât you? Always so independent, always so self-righteous. Iâm the one whoâs always fighting to keep us together. And this is how you repay me? By pushing me away and seeking attention from others?"
His words cut deep, each one a painful reminder of the control he exerted over your life. "This isnât about repaying you. Itâs about being true to myself. Iâm tired of feeling like I have to constantly prove my loyalty to you. Iâm not your possession."
Sukunaâs face contorted with frustration, and he slammed his fist against the wall. "You think this is easy for me? Watching you slip away while Iâm left here fighting to keep us from falling apart? Iâm trying to hold onto something real, and youâre pushing me away."
The hurt in his voice was undeniable, a mix of jealousy and desperation. But you could see the cracks in his control, the way his need for dominance had become a cage that both of you were trapped in.
"Iâm not trying to push you away." you said, your voice trembling. "Iâm trying to find a way to be myself without feeling like Iâm suffocating under your expectations. Weâre stuck in this cycle of fighting and making up, and itâs tearing us apart."
Sukunaâs expression softened for a moment, the anger giving way to a look of vulnerability. "I just donât want to lose you. I know Iâm not perfect, but I need you to understand how much you mean to me."
You sighed, feeling the weight of his words. "I know you care, but the way you show it is suffocating. We need to find a way to be together without this constant power struggle. Otherwise, weâre just going to keep hurting each other."
The room fell silent, the intensity of the argument leaving both of you exhausted. The love that once felt like a thrilling adventure now seemed like a battlefield, with each conflict leaving deeper scars. The vibrant energy that had once sparked between you was now overshadowed by an unrelenting cycle of discord and unresolved tension.
You wrapped your arms around your chest, as though trying to hug and comfort yourself amid the emotional wreckage. Your shoulders shook slightly with the effort to maintain composure, but even more tears were inevitable.
Sukunaâs posture was a reflection of his internal struggle, his anger giving way to a raw vulnerability. He took a hesitant step towards you, his voice trembling. âWhat do you want me to do?â he whispered, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. âWhat can I do, toâŠto make you stay?â
The softness in his voice, the genuine plea for understanding, struck a deep chord. You could see the pain and desperation etched into his features, the realization of how precariously close he was to losing you. Yet, amidst the raw emotion, you felt overwhelmed and trapped.
âI donât know,â you replied, your voice breaking as the tears began to fall freely. âIâm tired, Sukuna. Iâm tired⊠of loving you and losing you all at once.â
His shoulders sagged as he absorbed your words, the weight of your exhaustion evident in his expression. The tears that prickled at his eyes now spilled over, reflecting the depth of his own despair. His gaze fell to the floor, unable to meet yours, the crushing reality of your relationship settling heavily between you.
The room was filled with a profound silence, broken only by the soft sounds of your sobs and his choked breaths. The love you shared, which had once been a source of exhilaration and passion, now felt like a relentless cycle of joy and pain that neither of you could escape.
Sukunaâs voice was barely audible as he spoke again, his tone carrying a sense of helplessness. âI donât know how to fix this. I donât know how to make things right when everything feels so broken.â
You wiped at your tears, the exhaustion of the emotional turmoil leaving you feeling drained. âNeither do I.â you admitted softly. âI wish I had the answers. I wish I could find a way to make things work, but right now, it feels like weâre stuck in a never-ending loop of hurt and confusion.â
Sukunaâs silence was heavy with resignation, a poignant acknowledgment of the struggle that had become an inescapable part of your relationship. The love that had once been a source of strength and excitement now seemed overshadowed by a painful reality that neither of you knew how to navigate.
In that quiet moment, both of you were left grappling with the depth of your feelings, the complexity of your relationship, and the painful truth that sometimes love alone isnât enough to overcome the barriers that keep you apart.
Sukuna's tears continued to fall, and he moved closer, his steps hesitant but deliberate. He reached out tentatively, his fingers brushing against your arm in a gesture that was both gentle and desperate.
âI never meant to make things so difficult,â he said, his voice rough with emotion. âI thought... I thought if I held on tight, if I tried harder, we could work through it. But now, I see how much Iâve pushed you away.â
You looked at him, your own tears blurring your vision. The sight of him, vulnerable and torn, added to the weight of your own sorrow. You wanted to reach out, to offer comfort, but the chasm between you felt insurmountable.
âI know you were trying,â you said, your voice cracking. âBut the way you tried to control things... it pushed me away more than anything else. I felt like I was losing myself in trying to make things work.â
Sukunaâs hand tightened around your arm, his grip firm but not painful. âWhat do you need from me?â he asked, his voice desperate. âTell me what I can do to make things right, to fix this.â
You shook your head, struggling to find the words to express the depth of your exhaustion and the confusion that clouded your mind. âI donât know if thereâs anything that can fix this right now. I just feel... lost.â
His expression softened, the realization dawning that perhaps the damage was too great to repair immediately. âIâm sorry,â he said, his voice breaking. âIâm sorry for everything. I never wanted to hurt you. I just didnât know how to handle my own fears and insecurities.â
You nodded, the sadness overwhelming. âI know. And Iâm sorry too. Iâm sorry that we couldnât find a way to make this work without hurting each other so much.â
The silence between you was heavy, filled with the echoes of what had been and what might never be again. The love that had once felt so alive now seemed like a distant memory, overshadowed by the pain and the sense of inevitability.
Sukunaâs hand slowly fell away from your arm, and he took a step back, his shoulders slumped in defeat. âMaybe... maybe we both need some time apart to figure things out. To heal and find ourselves again.â
You looked at him, a mix of relief and sorrow washing over you. âMaybe youâre right. I need time to understand what I really want and to heal from all of this.â
Sukuna nodded, his face a mask of resignation and understanding. âI hope... I hope we can both find a way to be okay, even if it means being apart.â
With that, Sukuna turned and walked towards the door, each step heavy with the weight of what was ending. As he left, the silence of the room seemed to deepen. You sat down on the edge of the bed once more, your emotions a tangled mess of sadness and relief. The path ahead was uncertain, but in the quiet that followed, you felt more alone than ever before. But free. Freed from your own ruin.
âŹÎčââââââââââââââÎčâŹ
YOU COULDNâT DO IT ANYMORE IN THE END. In the end, you did break up with him. The cycle of arguments and reconciliation had become a never-ending loop, a house of cards that seemed destined to collapse no matter how carefully it was built. You loved him deeply, that was undeniable. But you also realized that rekindling the relationship would only lead to more pain, more hurt that neither of you could bear.
As you stood by the window, the first light of dawn was beginning to creep across the sky, painting the world in soft hues of pink and gold. The sight was starkly beautiful, a contrast to the turmoil that had been raging inside you. This was what life should be like, you think. You shouldnât settle for less. You shouldnât settle for hurt.
Outside, you could see himâstill there, lingering near your door, his figure slumped against the wall. He had a cigarette against the burrow of his lips, smoke filling his face. The remnants of a wild night clung to him; he was drunk and high, his posture wavering as he waited for you. The sight of him, lost and desperate, broke your heart in a way that felt both familiar and foreign.
You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of your decision settle heavily upon you. You knew that as much as you loved him, returning to him now would only mean opening the door to a love that had become toxic, a love that had already left you shattered too many times.
âI canât go through this again.â you whispered to yourself, your voice barely audible. The realization was painful, but clear. The cycle of breaking up and making up had drained you emotionally, leaving you with scars that were too deep to ignore. âNot again.â
As the sun continued to rise, its light growing stronger, you turned away from the window, feeling a sense of finality. The decision to end things was not made lightly, and the pain of walking away was immense. But you knew it was necessary for your own well-being, for the chance to heal and find a path forward that wasnât mired in the constant heartbreak that your relationship had become.
You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts as you reached for your phone. With a heavy heart, you composed a message, knowing it was the last thing you needed to say to him. Your fingers hovered over the screen, the weight of your decision pressing down on you as you typed:
"Sukuna, this is the last time Iâm reaching out. I can see you waiting outside, and I need you to understand that this is over. I love you, but weâve reached a point where continuing this relationship will only lead to more hurt. The cycle of breaking up and making up has left us both wounded, and I canât keep going through it. I need to move on and find healing for myself. Please respect my decision and let this be the end. I wish you well, but I canât be with you anymore. Goodbye."
You stared at the message for a moment, feeling a mix of sadness and relief. With a final press of the send button, you put your phone down and took a deep breath. It was done. The words were out there, and now it was time to let go and start the process of healing. You took a deep sigh and pursed your lips into a flat line.
As the first rays of sunlight began to illuminate the room, you felt a glimmer of hope amidst the sadness. The end of this chapter was painful, but it was also a step towards a future where you could rebuild, where you could heal. It was a chance to find peace and to rediscover yourself, away from the shadows of a love that had become more damaging than fulfilling.
With a final, lingering glance at the window, you steeled yourself for the difficult road ahead. The love you had for Ryomen Sukuna was real, but the decision to move forward was the right one. As the sun rose higher in the sky, you began to prepare for a new day, one that would be marked by both the pain of goodbye and the promise of new beginnings. You hope the best for him, as much as you hoped the best for you.Â
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Idea by @itsaslaminak tysm đ©·
In His Arms
Summary- Cregan Stark comforting his wife through a thunderstorm
named! reader with no desc, made up house between Dorne and the Reach.
not proofread just wanted to get something out. I've been so swamped
When Lenora discovered her betrothal to Lord Stark, Warden of the North and Lord of Winterfell, she was confused first and foremost. Her, a firstborn daughter of House Keaton, a house that bordered between the Reach and Dorne, a dry and arid place. Northerners hardly married anyone who wasn't born and bred in the North, let alone married from a house allied with Dorne. Never in Westeros history has such a marriage been prospected, but a sudden need for alliance had sprung up one Winter.
The Starks were in need of livestock in stead of the harsh winter, and Martells were in need of supplies and ships. A pact was made for an annual trade to by conducted every early winter, for as long as relations were well between the two kingdoms. With the Martell Princesses all being married off already, Prince Qoren decided to send a vassel house's daughter instead. So, Lord Lent Keaton provided his eldest daughter to Lord Stark in a marriage and trade alliance, providing a generation of trust between the Dornish and Northerners.
It had taken months to travel North, with Lenora dreading every step that brought her closer to her mysterious bethrothed. Her parents and ladies in waiting could not join her on such a far journey, their services needed elsewhere during the time, so Lenora was left with only two of her maids and the guards protecting her carriage. The weather, too, was almost unbearable. By the time she had gotten there, the boats of livestock had long since reached the North to get the people through the harsh winter. Winter was long over by her arrival. Though, it hardly seemed that way given the powdery show falling over her hair and shoulders the moment she stepped from her box.
A welcome party was in Winterfell's square to greet the young Lady, consisting of Lord Stark, his sister, and a few of his trusted council members and bannermen.
It was easy to tell which one was Cregan. With a broad and tall figure, dusty brown hair that was half tied back, and a massive brown pelt held over his shoulders and clasped together with the signature Stark direwolf. A long face, straight nose, and fine lips turned into a straight line. As she got closer, she noticed steely grey eyes to match the longsword strapped to his shoulder. An intimidating sight, one quite unlike the friendly faces of Dornish men.
Was he unhappy with her? Burdened by the fact that he had to marry a Dornish girl in order for his people to thrive in the cold winters? Or was it simply the face of a hardened Northerner? Lenora had heard they were all miserable and serious, even with their own close families. Glancing at Sara Snow, she wasn't quite sure of that. The girl's pale face was set in a charming smile as she bounced on her feet as if to contain her excitement.
Lenora was glad to see a friendly face in such a cold place. Perhaps even if her husband was distant, she could still have a friend to keep her company.
Her eyes trailed back to Cregan, who stepped forward to meet her. Tilting his chin down slightly, he grabbed her hand to meet her knuckles in a kiss that seemed too delicate for a man like him. "I welcome you to Winterfell, Lady Lenora. I hope your travels were not too arduous."
Even his voice was rough, with that thick Northen accent she had only heard in King's Landings' tourneys. The stark difference between his accent and the usual one of her own kin made her stomach stir with warm nerves, the tone pleasing to her ears.
"It was no trouble at all, my Lord. Though, I dare say that the bite of the North was not at all as I expected. I half-thought the tales of the permanent snow where merely exaggerations."
He smiled, showing a softer part of him that Lenora hadn't expected to see. Truthfully, she was unsure if he could smile at first sight. She decided it fit him well, and hoped such an expression oft graced his comely features.
"You'll find Winterfell much different than the summerlands of House Keaton, my Lady. I will ensure that you can acclimate to our lands quickly. I've had some warm dresses and pelts commissioned for you over the winter, if they please you." He offered an arm to Lenora, which she took with a warmed face.
He glanced up and down briefly at the young lady, assesing her clothes discreetly. She had taken her warmest gowns for her travels, though even bundled up with many blankets in the box, she did not find much warmth. Hopefully, North-made attire would prove to be more useful. The dress she wore now exposed more than she had seen on other women at the passing inns and small Northern towns. In the heat of Dorne, modesty was not taken so prudishly as it was in other places. People were free to wear thin silks, laces, and cottons as well as strappy and more revealing necklines. Skirts were thin and flowy, as they should be for ease of walking and air flow.
When visiting King's Landing, her outfits earned her more than a couple of prolonged stares, either of judgment or unveiled lust. She took them all in stride, only strutting past any onlookers with a striking confidence; as any Dornish lady should uphold.
Now, she couldn't help but feel sheepish under Cregan's steel gaze. Did he think her silly for not preparing garments herself over the winter? Or perhaps unfit to serve as Lady of Winterfell with such improper attire. Sara had dressed like a true Stark, with a light blue dress lined with wolf pelt at the wrists and collar along with brown gloves to match. Even while showing off little of her figure and only her face, she still looked a picture of Northern beauty with blue eyes and contrasing dark black hair.
"Anything you provide, I am most grateful for, my Lord. I am not a difficult person to please." She mentioned, tilting her head up to meet his eyes as they walked into the Great Keep.
Inside, it was much warmer. Lenora felt the Keep's ancient. presence surround her like a safety blanket. It was a heavy feeling, much different from the open walls of her own family house.
As if noticing her relief, Cregan started, "Winterfell is built on a group of hot springs, keeping it warm throughout all the seasons. The water lines the walls," he nodded towards the stone walls surronding them. "To keep us warm. You will find it most comfortable in the Keep, but I hope that does not deter you from exploring Winterfell and Winter Town as you please."
Lenora nodded, taking the halls in and memorizing them as they walked. "I am excited to meet the people of Winter Town. I hope to settle in to my duties quicky." She said pointedly, glancing at Cregan to guage his reaction. Many lords in the Crownlands, Reach, and Stormlands did not care for their wives beyond just making heirs, and so they were often cast aside and did not have any duties to take care of. Lenora grew up with her mother and father both being busy constantly with their duties, sharing the burden as head of a great House.
Winterfell was an even greater House yet, one that Lenora hoped to be welcomed to by the commonfolk and leige lords alike. That started with being active in the communities, and an attentive Lady.
He nodded, "I will let you get adjusted to the North before anything else. After the wedding, and the honeymoon period, I will teach you the duties of a Stark Lady." Cregan promised her kindly.
Lenora was grateful for the immediate response, and found herself eager for this arrangement. 'A Stark Lady' ran through her mind many times as she settled into her temporary chambers. She liked the sound of it.
Many moon turns later, Lenora had turned her attentions almost fully to her duties. Organizing the Great Keep's staff, taking care of Winter Town's events and charities, and so on. She took to it naturally, with Cregan's help, and found the commonfolk of Winterfell had accepted their new Southern Wardeness with open hearts.
Cregan, too, shared that sentiment. Though the wedding was a beautiful affair, it was a bit tense given that the bride and groom were only just acquainted. The honeymoon weeks were spent purely in each other's company to get to know the other. Horseback rides in the mornings, hunts in the afternoons, settling down in their marital chambers in the evenings; all their days were spent in content and relaxation. At the end of their honeymoon, they finally felt comfortable enough to perform the bedding ceremony without the watchful eyes of any Lords or maesters.
Though Lenora had shown no signs of being with child yet, she was still content. Cregan showed no comtempt with the matter either, telling his wife that a child would come when it was time, should the Gods will it. She agreed quite happily, secretly enjoying having her Lord husband all to herself.
On night's like these, she was ever more grateful for it. After they finished their separate days, Lenora and Cregan settled into bed together. Lenora, in a baby blue night shift and Cregan, in only a loose pair of trousers.
Lenora had oft told Cregan how comforting it was to listen to his heartbeat as she fell asleep, so he took to sleeping without a tunic since their first days together. The chill was kept away by the many pelts on their bed and their own body heat combined.
With her head lying on his chest and his large hand rubbing up and down her back soothingly, she felt herself drifting from the light conversation.
"...not to worry too much about the solstace feast."
"Hm?" Lenora murmured, lifted her head to meet his eyes.
Cregan smiled knowingly, shaking his head. "Never mind, we can discuss that in the morrow. Go to sleep, my girl." He said quietly, kissing her hairline gently.
Unable to resist sleep's great temptation, she only hummed and placed her head back in its place. Thump, thump, thump, and she was asleep.
Lenora was woken by a thunderstrike. It crashed with a piecing 'bang!' and left her jerking awake.
The sound of pouring rain upon cobblestone roofs and glass windows surrounded her on all sides. Bright shots of lightning peeked in from the window in their chambers, followed by more thunderstrikes. Lenora flinched harshly, each strike sending a spike of fear into her heart.
She had rainstorms, of course. But none as ferocious as this one. Never such loud, nauseating thunder and bright lightning in her homeland. Duststorms were common back in her childhood homeland, something she could handle easily. This was a complete turn from that.
When another strike hit, sounding ever more close to Winterfell's keep, she clutched onto whatever her hand was rested on. Coincidentally, it was Cregan's forearm. He stirred then, lifting a hand to his eyes to rub at them tiredly. "What's wrong, my girl?" He murmured.
How had he slept through the noise? Was he so unconcerned with a flood happening, or the roof collapsing under the weight of so much water. Or fire, struck on the Wolfswood trees by stray thunder?
"The storm." She hissed worriedly. He sat up, moving his hand on top of hers and rubbing atop her knuckles soothingly.
"What of it?"
"I've never seen one so strong. Will the Keep not flood, or the woods catch fire? We should prepareâ"
A deep chuckle came from beside her. At Lenora's confused and panicked look, Cregan shook his head and cleared his throat.
"'Tis Summer, wife. Monsoon season is upon us for some weeks, it happens every year. We are well prepared for anything that happens. Our roofs are slanted for rain to slide right down, our food is stored in sealed silos, and fires stand no chance of spreading with such heavy rain."
Lenora's heart slowed slightly, calmed at the thought of Winterfell being safeguarded by its years of tradition and preparation. Though, she was not completely calmed by his words alone. The pelting of drops hitting the roof and window still made her veins feel ice-cold, even with the hearth still running strong in their chambers.
Cregan reached out to grasp her face gently in his hands. "It will be like this for only a short time. We are safe in here, I promise you."
She nodded, clutching onto his large hand with one of her own as she leaned into his warm embrace. There, he held her firmly to his chest as he stroked her hair. Kissing the crown of her head, he spoke. "Shall I fetch more pelts? You are shivering, my heart."
Lenora shook her head, not wishing to part from his arms. "Just stay here with me, please."
"Of course." He obliged, succumbing to her whims as easily as the wind blew seeds from a dandelion. His wife came before all else, after all.
Slowly, he layed them both back down on the bed. Covering them up snug under the thick pelts of fur, Cregan rested his wife's head to his chest, covering her exposed ear with a cupped hand.
Wordlessly, he soothed her without needing to be asked. Never annoyed at her soft demeaner, he delighted in taking care of his beloved wife.
Comforted by his steady heartbeat instead of the thundering rain outside of the Keep, Lenora found herself drifting back into the welcoming and warm arms of sleep. Cregan stayed up all the while, ensuring his wife could not be disturbed again that night. He kept a hand held over her ear, adjusting to fit around her whenever she shifted in her sleep. His over arm lie firmly over her waist, rubbing circles at the small of her back distractingly.
Lenora did not wake again that night, oblivious to the raging storm outside. Every night after that, during the season of monsoons in Winterfell, Cregan was exceptionally careful that she rested throughout the night and was never scared again by the storms.
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WORSHIP ME INSTEAD.
Maegor Targaryen x Niece!Septa!Reader
The Gods have been unhappy with your uncle for some time now, but perhaps he's just needed to give them an offering⊠a sacrifice in return for a healthy heir all along. And what makes a better sacrifice than a septa?
WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT - MDNI; very dubious consent, canon typical incest/targcest (uncle/niece), blasphemy, corruption, corruption kink, size difference, semi public sex, female reader (mentions long, silver hair as appearance)
WORDS: 3K
NOTES: you're all getting some big tiddy daddy as a special treat and to officially end my 3k celebration! thanks to everyone that has participated by asking questions, by writing their own fics, and by just supporting me. also a special thanks to @zaldritzosrose and @arcielee for betaing this. <3
The atmosphere in the newly completed Red Keep is strange. It never was comfortable or calm, not even when your father sat the throne, but it feels as though a dark veil is hanging low over the castle and its staff, not even sparing the king and your uncle, Maegor Targaryen.Â
Youâve been gone from court for quite a while, being sent to Oldtown to become a septa by the very hands of the man youâre serving now, which has made the change in atmosphere even more apparent to you.Â
Several deaths haunt the castle â Ceryse Hightowerâs being the most recent one â and you can only fathom the pressure your uncle holds on his shoulders at this very moment. He does not have an heir, one wife after the other perishes, and the boy that poses the biggest threat to his claim to the throne, your brother Jaehaerys, has fled the castle of Dragonstone with your mother after the passing of the Dowager Queen Visenya.Â
You were not mad at being sent to the Starry Sept, for it allowed you to leave the insanity of your own House for an unknown amount of time. It was when youâd been called back to Kingâs Landing that you could feel your mood sour. You were brought there with no real task for you at hand which forced you to take over some duties Grand Maester Benifer assigned you with.Â
Your whole day has been spent in the Keepâs library, making you forgo your hood at one point and therefore allowing your silver tresses to cascade down your back freely. Wearing the hood is no necessity, hence your lack of concern should someone walk into the library and catch you without it.Â
With several books in hand, you sort some of the scrolls and books that had been brought to the royal chambers before, putting them back to where they belong.Â
You are too engrossed in your task to notice that youâve been alone for the longest of time, only aware of that other presence the moment the raspy voice fills the room. âSepta,â he almost says it in a mocking manner, and you immediately know who it is that has joined you.Â
Turning on your heels, you crane your neck to meet your uncleâs eyes for a moment. âY-Your Grace.â You dip into a slight curtsy, placing the books in an empty place on the shelf.
Heat warms your cheeks in his presence. Even during your childhood, you have always found a liking for your uncle and enjoyed the way he allowed you to leave the boredom of your princessly duties to take you flying on Balerion or let you watch him train with the sword.Â
âAt ease, Septa,â he replies, flicking his hand as if he means to dismiss your stiff posture. The library is not well lit, a few candles sparsely placed here and there granting for most of the light, and yet you still notice the way his eyes rove over your form slowly and deliberately. âI trust that all is well in the Keep?â
Your heart races in your chest underneath his gaze, as if he contemplates eating you, and it makes you swallow thickly. âOh, yes, of course. Everything is well, Your Grace,â you say, trying to keep your voice as calm and polite as possible, though you can not help but feel your pulse quickening at the hunger in his eyes.Â
His lips curve into a smile, clearly taking pleasure in the way youâre squirming beneath his gaze. âAnd your duties? All going smoothly?â He takes a step towards you, looming over your small frame.Â
You have to bite the inside of your cheeks to keep your composure, more so as his pleasant scent fills your nostrils in a way you canât describe. Taking in a shaky breath, a shiver runs down your spine. Itâs been easier being close to him when you were all but a child heâs bounced on his knee, not a woman grown. Â
âWell enough,â you reply a beat later. âThe new midwives are coming along wonderfully. The Queen can know herself in good hands should she be with child soon.â
Maegor just hums in response, reaching out a hand to drag his knuckles over your cheek, his calloused fingers rough against your soft skin. Even from this little contact he can feel how warm your flesh is, and a heat grows in his loins at the thought of how warm and sensitive your skin would be if it was no longer covered by your septa robes.Â
âThat is good then⊠Septa ,â he says, hesitating to use your title. His voice has dropped lower as his hand travels to your jaw, his thumb caressing your chin.Â
Your eyes widen, but you donât dare to step away from him for fear of the consequences. â... Your Grace?â You eventually find the courage to whisper.Â
His fingers graze your jaw, gently tracing your features. A low hum rumbles in the depth of his chest. You donât know that heâs always found you beautiful, much more than your younger sister Rhaena, and even more now that youâve become a woman grown. Youâre so unlike the women he usually entertains himself with. âYes, Septa?â With these words leaving his lips, his hand travels down to your neck, gently wrapping around your throat, grasp firmly but not enough to hurt you.Â
Drawing in a deep breath, that is the moment you decide to bring some space between you again, taking a step back. But much to your surprise, his grip does not falter, hand still around your throat with his arm just outstretched. âIââ you swallow thickly, not able to keep your gazes locked. âThis⊠This is highly inappropriate, Your Grace.â
Maegor merely scoffs, and although his hand follows your movements, itâs clear itâs meant to stop you from getting away from him. His thumb gently runs along the sensitive skin of your throat, feeling your pulse quicken beneath the pad of it. âInappropriate?â he murmurs, his dark blown eyes drinking in the sight of your slightly parted lips. âWhen have I ever cared for what was appropriate, Septa?â
It feels as though the gentle brush of his thumb coaxes another shiver to run down your spine, and you catch your mind straying to the thoughts of what it would feel like if his fingers were anywhere else but your neck.Â
âMust⊠Must I remind His Grace that it was him sending me to Oldtown to become a septa? IâI have vowedââ you trail off, your voice shaking slightly. âIt is not very proper for a septa to be touched in⊠this way.â
Moving forward again and closing the gap that has formed, his hand around your throat stops you from backing away. âItâs not proper, noâŠâ he murmurs, leaning forwards to bring his lips on level with your ear. âBut then again, Iâve never been a proper man.â
You suppress an involuntary gasp as you feel his hot breath fanning over your skin, enough to nearly melt you here and now. Perhaps his grip leaves you more as a willing prisoner to his mercy rather than his prey. A part of you wants to pull away, yet the other part is afraid of angering him by doing so.Â
âYâYour GraceâŠâ you whisper, the sound of your voice almost breathless as his domineering presence makes it difficult to think straight, â... please.â
The wicked smirk on his lips grows wider at your pleading. He can feel himself getting lost in your voice, so soft yet sounding so helpless in his presence. If it hasnât been obvious before, he takes immense pleasure in the way he towers over your frame, making you appear so small and fragile clad in your septa robes.Â
âPlease what, niece ?â he says, leaning in even more to brush his lips against the shell of your ear.Â
You try to tilt your head to get away from him, squirming in his grasp, but to no avail. âÄȘlon kessa daor,â you try to reason with him in the tongue of your ancestors, a small flicker of hope that this brings some sort of clarity back to him. We should not.Â
But Maegor just chuckles lowly, the grip around your throat tightening slightly. Your breathing is uneven, shaky even, with your body pressed against his, and he relishes in the feeling of your vulnerability. âKostilus Ä«lon kessa daor,â he replies, a dangerous lilt in his tone. âYn gaoman sÄ«r jorrÄelagon raqagon ra nyke kessa daor.â Perhaps we should not. But I do so love to indulge in things I shouldnât.
Before you can answer, youâre spun around by him, the movement unusually fluid and graceful, as if heâs done it plenty of times before. Your back presses against his sturdy chest, pinning you between him and the bookshelf with no way to escape. The hand from your throat rests on your waist instead, the fabric of your robe pinched between his fingers.
âThatâs much better, is it not?â he teases in a murmur.Â
The vow of chastity youâve sworn plays over and over again in your mind, but does little to stop your knees from growing weak at the proximity.Â
âThis is not a good idea⊠uncle ,â you protest quietly. Itâs completely out of place for you to address him as such, he is the king and youâre a mere septa that has set aside her last name, but neither the Mother Above nor the Maiden can stop him from getting under your skin.Â
âPerhaps, but where is the fun in a good idea, huh?â
Youâre a septa, and youâre supposed to be a pious and celibate woman, but at this moment all you can think of is how good it feels to have him this close to you, so very close to giving you more â something youâve craved for a long time.Â
Both your hands are captured by his paw, pinning them behind your back and making you unable to move. While his lips explore the side of your neck, leaving a trail of open mouthed kisses, his other hand rucks up the skirt of your robe, bunching it around your waist. Itâs pinched by the fingers of his other hand, held high and allowing him to pay more attention to your undergarments.Â
If you werenât so distracted by the coarse hairs of his beard scratching the sensitive skin of your neck with each kiss he pressed to it, you would have attempted to squeeze your thighs together, making it more difficult for him to tug down your smallclothes. But alas, your mind and body are too far gone from all the summers you have spent untouched and unsatisfied, addicted to the rush his touch sends through your body.Â
He is hard and heavy behind you, the outline of his thick cock pressing against the curve of your arse. You're too desperate for something you have only imagined at night, making you arch your back as though you mean to make him hurry up. You can feel him fumble with the laces of his breeches, undoing them one by one.Â
âWeâll just have to be good at not getting caught,â he rasps against your neck. The robe you wear offers almost no liberty to push it down to reveal more of your soft skin and the curve where your neck meets your shoulder to him, and so he has to make do with your neck alone.Â
Your uncle is met with little resistance as he sheaths his hard cock inside of your warm cunt, filling you up at once. Not even the sharp pain of his teeth sinking into the skin at the curve of your neck grants you enough distraction from the stinging that comes with accommodating his size, your cunt struggling to take him completely.Â
âBy the Seven,â you whimper, your hands clenching to fists in his grasp while your walls flutter around him. Â
Your soft whimpers are enough to drive him further into his need for you already, and the gentle rolls of his hips make your knees slacken, caught by him bringing his free hand to your chin to pull your body against his. âThere is no need for the Gods here, my sweet Septa,â Maegor rasps into your ear, emphasizing his words with a particularly harsh thrust of his hips that makes you choke on a whine. âYou may worship me instead.â
His grip on your chin forces you to tilt your head back and arch your back against him to hold up with the slowly increasing pace of his thrusts, and your teeth digging into your bottom lip is a fruitless attempt of yours to stifle a moan coaxed past them by that.Â
The sound of your moans and whimpers sparks something in him, prompting him to growl against your skin. It tightens the grip he has on your chin to the point it becomes borderline painful with how much he has tilted it back.Â
âDonât hold back,â he grunts, resting his forehead against the crown of your head. âLet me hear you, sweetling.â
Although your mouth is agape, no more sounds than breathy whimpers and whines leave your lips, despite the reckless pounding of him. But when another moan manages to escape your chest, it strains your throat to the point you have to cough once.Â
Sensing your discomfort, he eases the grip just slightly, shifting it to your throat and allowing your head to tip forward again. Youâre desperate to fill your lungs with air, yet each breath is knocked out of them by the merciless snaps of his hips.Â
âThatâs it,â he groans, nudging your legs further apart with his foot. âThe Gods have been unhappy with me for some time now, but perhaps Iâve just needed to give them an offering⊠a sacrifice.â Heâs just rambling into your hair at this point, and your mind is too hazy to really process anything he says.
Youâve been so inexperienced and have spent so much time completely untouched that even the slapping of his heavy sac of stones against your pearl brings you a pleasure beyond imagination.Â
He towers over you, your small frame completely hidden by his significantly taller one. Itâs such an easy game for him to keep you where he wants, to use you however he pleases, and at this point youâd let him do whatever he desires with you for as long as you get to relive the sensations you feel over and over again.Â
Your peak washes over you in an ambush, the pleasure all but soaring through your veins. But his assault on your cunt doesnât stop, and when the urge overcomes you to squeeze your thighs together, it doesnât seize.Â
âPerhaps the Gods havenât been giving me a healthy heir because they need me to fill you up,â he growls as if heâs been waiting for this since the moment heâd sent you to Oldtown, his voice raspy and thick with need. âPerhaps the Seven will bless me with a son if my seed quickens within you.â
His words nearly send you to your knees if it wasnât for his muscular arm wrapped around your frame. A renewed wave of your arousal oozes out of your cunt at the thoughts of you carrying his child, yet it also makes you shudder, a feeling of guilt lingering in the pit of your belly. âBy⊠By the Gods⊠T-The Seven would notââ you protest weakly, your voice a little more than a gasp. But even to your own ears your protest sounds more like a pleading than denial.Â
Pulling you even closer against him, Maegor nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, teeth grazing the exposed flesh of your shoulder gently. âMy little Septa,â he murmurs, the nickname almost sounding like an insult and a taunt. âYou say we can not, yet you press yourself against me⊠are you so desperate for my cock?â
That is the moment you lose any resemblance of restraint youâve held before, your mind becoming blank, his merciless pounding, and words forcing every thought right out of your brain. You whine a string of incoherent words, rambling one âyesâ after the other.Â
Itâs as if heâs just as desperate, because you can feel his thrusts becoming more and more erratic, a sign that lets you know he is about to topple over the edge. With a few more thrusts, he forces his thick cock into you, until a strained groan heralds his peak. His twitching cock spills his seed deep inside of your quivering cunt, and you squeeze him ever so tightly in response, all but milking him for every drop.Â
He squeezes your flesh and trails both his hands over your body, mapping out the curves hiding beneath the robe. His thrusts grow leisurely, the feeling of pure bliss subsiding rather quickly for him.Â
Shame and guilt for what just has happened overcomes you, growing stronger the moment he pulls out and you feel the remnants of his spend idly trickle down your thighs.
You donât dare pull around. You donât want to meet his gaze, to see the smugness and satisfaction written over his features at having convinced you to give in to him.Â
âI suppose I have kept you away from your duties for long enough,â he says, his voice dripping with irony. âYouâre a septa, and I believe you have some more duties to tend to.â
Nodding weakly in agreement, you canât shake off the feelings of being exposed and vulnerable under his piercing gaze. It takes a moment for your brain to function again, the fog of need and pleasure only slowly clearing from your mind.Â
âYouâre right, Your Grace,â you say, voice weak and shaky. âI should⊠I should get goingâŠâ Dipping your head in a nod, youâre quick to scurry off, hastily looking around on your way out of the library in hope of no one having seen you in your moment of indiscretion.
Maegor Taglist: @hypocritic-trash-baby @k4marina @foxyanon @peachysunrize @nats-whore
@palmer-hjp @sinarainbows @luvdella
General Taglist: @arcielee @userhotd @multyfangirl @zaldritzosrose @black-dread
@wintrr13 @winter-soldier-101 @thought--bubble @dixie-elocin @beautbuck
#maegor targaryen smut#maegor targaryen fanfic#maegor fanfic#maegor imagine#maegor smut#maegor targaryen x reader#maegor x reader#maegor targaryen#maegor the cruel#maegor i targaryen#asoiaf#asoiaf smut#asoiaf fic#asoiaf fanfic#asoiaf imagine#asoiaf x reader#asoiaf x you#asoiaf x y/n#a song of ice and fire x reader#a song of ice and fire smut#a song of ice and fire fanfic#a song of ice and fire#a song of ice and fire imagine#house targaryen#targcest
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i know it's over | oneshot
read the alternate ending here!
pairing(s): choi beomgyu x you, kang taehyun x you
summary: you love beomgyu â you truly do â you just wish he loved you back, but after a particularly humiliating night in which he shows you just how little he cares, you finally decide enough is enough. enter kang taehyun, a sweet boy who's the polar opposite of beomgyu; but while you begin to develop your relationship with him, beomgyu realizes exactly what he's missing.
genre: ANGST, romance, hurt/comfort, fluff at the end
warnings: toxic relationships
word count: 7.3k
notes: repost/rewrite of one of my first works (formerly titled: to know him is to love him, and i do) THERE WILL BE AN ALTERNATE ENDING, YES the best friend's little brother!beomgyu au won the poll but i'm so hesitant to post it because i hate it so i thought i'd post this for now until i'm able to edit the other work enough to where it's not an actual eyesore.
you're tired. really tired. exhausted, even, as you stalk through the doorway of beomgyu's apartment. you practically tear off your coat, letting it land harshly on the living room floor with a slight thud. beomgyu rolls his eyes and picks it up with a sigh before hanging it up on the rack.
"i told you it was nothing. why are you freaking out?" he asks flatly.
"she was fucking you with her eyes, beomgyu!" you exclaim in frustration.
"and that's my fault how?"
"it's not your fault, but i'm sick of you entertaining women, let alone your actual fucking ex, while i'm standing right next to you!" his ex is just another fish in the barrel, or at least that's what he says, but the thought that they were intimate together at one point still makes you feel sick. truthfully, your boyfriend is handsome, so you've spent the better part of the past 10 months warding off the women who circle him like vultures. you wouldn't mind as much as you do if he seemed at all interested in helping you do so, especially when faced with his ex that you suspect he still has feelings for, but he does not. quite the opposite, actually. it's like he thrives off of the attention and, god, it hurts.Â
"i'm not entertaining anybody. i told her i have a girlfriend now," he, well, you would say argues, but it's said so nonchalantly it doesn't warrant the term.Â
"a girlfriend you proceeded to ignore while she hung off of your shoulders and laughed all night! i just don't understand how you don't understand how much it hurts my feelings. i'm a human, too! how would you feel if my ex, who was very clearly interested in me, hung around me right in front of you?" and it's like you're explaining empathy to a child.Â
"me? i wouldn't give a fuck because it's not that serious," he replies with a slightly irritated shake of his head.Â
it's always like this. always. you're always the one who cares more between the two of you. you were the one who asked him out in the first place. you were the one who initiated your first kiss. your first fight. hell, even your first reconciliation. you're not stupid, you know he doesn't feel quite the same way you do, but he has to feel something, right? otherwise, why would he say yes to you when he's rejected so many other women? your brain hurts trying to wrap your head around it all.
 "you're missing the point! if you were me, you wouldâ" you begin frustratedly, but you cut yourself off. "you know what? i don't even have the energy to explain this to you. i don't understand why i have to explain basic human emotion to you, and i really don't understand why i have to beg and plead for you to care about how i feel!" you all but shriek. Â
"you don't have to do shit, just leave if you're that fucking unhappy," he spits out angrily, which is the first real emotion â besides mild annoyance â you've seen out of him this entire conversation. he gets impatient when you're like this, which usually results in you relenting, but not tonight. you're far too hurt to let go so easily.
"you're right! i am unhappy! i just â why don't you care that i'm unhappy? what can i do to make you give a fuck about me?" you have a brave face on but you can feel your eyes getting hot and your voice trembling ever so slightly.Â
"you could try not being so damn needy, maybe that'd help."
your eyes redden even further and your lips unintentionally twist themselves into a sour frown. you hate it when he calls you needy because you do need a lot from him, it feels like. his time. his care. his attention and affection. yet you never seem to get it.
"do you not love me? like at all?" you ask. all of the venom in your tone has been sucked out mercilessly and you sound more helpless than angry.
"do you not realize how fucking crazy you sound?" he scoffs as if he can't fathom why you'd be upset. as if he's not watching you break down in real time.Â
"why won't you give me a straight answer?" you question, voice softer than it was before.
he does nothing but scowl, and that's enough of an answer as it stands. he doesn't care. never has. probably never will.Â
"then why'd you even say yes to dating me?" you truly don't understand. you thought you were different. you thought he saw something in you he didn't see in his harem of other suitors, and trust that there were many. Â
"i dunno. i was just bored, i guess," he answers with a shrug and your world as you know it collapses. the man you love sees you as nothing more than a way to kill time. he's picking you up right now just to toss you away when the next shiny toy presents itself, and so far, you've let him drag you around because you love him â that's how much you love him â but looking at him now, at how unbothered he is, you wonder if you've even got anything left to give.
"i really do love you," you manage to squeeze out with a bitter smile. your poor heart is on display for the naked eye to see, and it seems like he really couldn't care less, but that won't stop you from asking: "does that mean anything at all to you?"Â
"well, i'm sorry you feel that way," he says simply, "but that's not my fucking problem."
your heart sinks to your stomach and you feel like you're going to throw up. in this moment, as you watch the love of your life dismiss you like you're a fucking dog begging for scraps of food, you feel an overwhelming sense of clarity as you realize he doesn't love you. he doesn't even like you. he probably hates you, actually. like a mental montage, every moment in which he showed you that exact sentiment plays all at once in your head.
all those times you let him choose everything from movies to dinner because the idea of a compromise was inconceivable. all of those occasions, special and otherwise, where you were supposed to go out on a date, but he'd bail without a word and you'd forgive him with no apology. even something as menial as when you'd offer him your share of dessert because he ate all of his and you knew he wanted more, and he'd take it without so much as a thank you. how you'd sit and listen to him tell stories about how amazing his friends were, but he'd never even ask about your day. when those same friends would jokingly call you the perfect girlfriend, and you thought it was an indication of how good your relationship was, but in reality, it was a way to tease him because the thought of actually being with you was so abhorrent and ridiculous that it must be a joke. nobody likes a desperate girl, after all. all those times you told him you loved him and he'd just smile and kiss you deeper. memories like these flood your brain with a vengeance so cruel it makes your head ache, and in a way, you realize it's ridiculous to be surprised when there was so much proof of his feelings in the first place. Â
"oh. okay," you say with what you hope is a soft and unbothered laugh, but comes out more as a choked one. "i guess there's nothing left to say. i'll get my shit and go."Â
you hesitate for a few excruciatingly awkward moments before collecting yourself enough to start gathering your things, which are scattered haphazardly around his apartment from his bedroom to his bathroom. it's like a walk of shame, almost, and you feel even shittier when he plops down on the couch with a long suffering sigh as he begins to massage the bridge of his nose. you feel so small in this moment â like a petulant child who just got done throwing an unsuccessful tantrum â and you're now soaking in the sobering aftermath and sitting with the thought that he just watched you have a meltdown like he was watching a monkey putting on a show. how much more is he going to humiliate you? enough is enough, you think, so before you can actually finish collecting all of your belongings, you're scurrying out of the apartment. before you go, you glance back at him one last time.Â
"beomgyu?" you ask tentatively, tears clouding your eyes.Â
"yeah?" he replies with a sigh. this is it, you think.
"i don't want to see you ever again," you say firmly. before he can reply, if he ever intended to in the first place, you slam the door.Â
-
there's a lot to love about beomgyu. for one, he's handsome, which is obvious, but he has a certain allure you could never help but be drawn in by. he's always been a charming man, but even more so when he's talking to a woman he's interested in. as interested as he could be, that is. he's funny and comically pompous when he wants to be, but still somehow down to earth despite it all.Â
he's been described as a mood-maker, and while he grew to resent that term, you thought it was at least partially true, if only in the context of your relationship. when he's sad, you're devastated. when he's happy, you're over the fucking moon. his feelings are your whole world â or were, you guess, since all that's over now.
it wasn't all bad all the time, you think. there were times where you thought he really might reciprocate even a fraction of what you felt for him, and most of the time, that was enough. you could work with that. love looks different for everyone, you would reason. maybe he just had a funny way of showing it.Â
there were days where you'd laugh together and end the night lying in each other's arms while you'd cradle him like he was the most precious thing in the whole world because, to you, he really was. he was normally so boisterous when with his friends, but while he would never admit it to anyone else, he'd tell you about some of his insecurities while you gently combed your fingers through his long, silky hair. he'd speak of regrets and longing for people to take him more seriously. he'd never say it, but he wanted people to see you like you saw him. the real him. you'd let him cry while your hands cupped his cheeks and you'd shush him while he fiddled mindlessly with your hair like a child. you'd kiss the tip of his reddened nose until he laughed instead of cried. times like those, you'd really think you were someone special to him, but now you realize you were wrong. you were just an outlet for him, and anyone willing to be an emotional dumping ground would do the trick, too.
after a few weeks of moping, your sadness has begun to morph into anger and resentment. you spent nearly a year of your life trying to make an emotionally stunted man care about you, and that's not even counting the years of pining over him before you finally worked up the courage to ask him out. it was difficult to see it in the moment, but after being away from him for so long, it's crystal clear that he was honestly just an asshole who didn't really like you. nothing more, nothing less. maybe he'd find someone to change for someday, maybe he'd even work things out with his ex, but for whatever reason, you weren't her. that's just the way it goes, you guess. what really bothers you are the "what if's" of the situation. what if you were prettier, or smarter, or kinder; would he have seen you for who you really are? would he have grown to appreciate you if you had given him more to appreciate?Â
either way, there's no use crying over spilled milk now. you won't be going back to him any time soon, and he certainly won't come crawling back to you. you'll continue to think of him less and less until your time together fades into a distant (and unpleasant) memory. you smile at the thought.
-
the first time beomgyu realizes just how impactful your absence is, nothing in particular happens. it's a regular tuesday night a week or so after your "breakup" and he's bored out of his mind. he showers, listens to music, texts his friends and makes himself dinner, but something is missing.Â
as he sits on his couch, he realizes what it is: you. right about now, you should be pestering him to hang out and showing up on his doorstep to watch a movie. he'd roll his eyes at first, but eventually relent as long as he got to pick the movie, of course. he wouldn't say it, but he'd actually enjoy glancing over and seeing your reactions. you were comically expressive and every twist and turn of the plot had your eyes bulging and mouth agape, turning to him for confirmation that he was seeing the same things you were. when you watched inception for the first time, it absolutely rocked your world.
he's alone, but he puts on a movie, anyway. every so often, his head turns to the side with the corner of his mouth raised, but you're not there to give a reaction. he should be used to your absence by the third twist, but he still finds himself subconsciously turning to you throughout the rest of the movie. when the credits roll, he's half expecting to hear you chatter on about how crazy it was, but it's silent. the only time that would happen would be when you'd accidentally drift off in spite of how engrossed you were. you'd try to fight it off like a stubborn kid, but would succumb by the final act. he smiles at the memory before shaking his head in disbelief. what's wrong with him?Â
moments like these plague him more and more frequently, but the most notable one is the night before his first day at a new job. he briefly talks to his friends about his excitement, but he's too embarrassed to divulge just how anxious he is. times like this, he'd come over and complain for however long he needed. you'd sit and nod, asking questions during his pauses to encourage him to continue, always adding appropriate and thoughtful commentary.Â
his thoughts wander to how you're doing alone. you really love him, it seems, so he can only imagine how you're faring without him. he wishes you hadn't blocked his number so he could at least ask how you are. maybe you'd even tell him you miss him. not for the first time, he begins to wonder if he pushed you too far this time around. you've gotten angry and given him the silent treatment before, sure, but you've never blocked him and you've certainly never done it for so long.Â
he looks you up on instagram for the first time since your breakup. he's not terribly surprised when he sees he's blocked on there too, but all it takes is a switch to his photography account, which you had forgotten to block, to see what you're up to now.Â
the first thing he notices is a picture of you sitting outside with an ice cream cone in hand, sun encircling you. your smile is beaming and your eyes are crinkled and he can almost hear your giggle through the screen. the caption reads "ice cream date with my best friend!â
he scrambles through his memories to try to remember a time in recent history when you two did something similar, but he comes up blank. what he does recall, though, is you mentioning a new frozen yogurt place you wanted to visit with him for your birthday. he nodded in response, but he knew he wouldn't go with you, opting instead to get shitfaced with his friends. in retrospect, maybe you knew it, too. he had checked his phone the next morning and saw he had at least half a dozen missed calls and well over a dozen texts from you. when he finally texted you back, you took almost a full 5 hours to respond, which was uncommon. usually, you'd text back within minutes. it occurred to him later on that that was your version of the silent treatment, and it amused him that you could only hold out for a few hours. he honestly found it kind of cute.Â
he remembers what you did for his birthday. how you had secretly invited his friends over to his apartment to surprise him after an especially shitty day at work. he came home to an elaborately decorated apartment and all of his favorite people greeting him. he remembers how happy you looked when he opened up your present to him, which was the guitar he had always secretly wanted but could never quite justify buying for himself. you were so excited, any spectator would think he had gotten you the gift of your dreams and not the other way around. you were practically buzzing with excitement when he pulled you in for a kiss. his friends had whooped at the display of affection, and you giggled shyly at their reaction. what did he get you for your birthday again? anything?
he spends days pondering over this and similar circumstances, which eventually turn into weeks upon weeks. what starts as a nagging feeling that he may have gone too far in his neglect for you becomes guilt and anxiety. he recalls just how torn up you seemed the last time he saw you. to be honest, at the time, he was mostly just irritated. but he never thought you'd actually leave. all he can see is that awful look on your face when you finally ended everything, and all he can remember is the fact that he put it there. he knows in his heart that he has no right to feel this way, but he feels it all the same.Â
-
you would have never imagined you'd actually like somebody other than beomgyu, but taehyun makes it as easy as possible given the sticky circumstances. you met at a club your best friend dragged you to, both you and taehyun had to remain sober (designated drivers, of course) and ended up having a surprisingly engaging conversation amidst the blaring music and strobe lights. after that, the rest is history.Â
he can tell you've been hurt before, but he gently coaxes you into opening up as you spend more and more time with him. you're afraid of being overbearing and coming across as a lovesick puppy again, but taehyun is gentle and seems to enjoy your attention and affection, even if he's a surface level tsundere. more than that, he actually reciprocates it.Â
do you still think about beomgyu? of course. do you miss him? well, you'd never admit it to a single soul, but the way you see him in everything has to be an indicator that you do. it's getting better, though. more bearable.Â
a month or so into your relationship, you post about taehyun for the first time. you don't know why you're so nervous about announcing to the world that you have a boyfriend again, but happiness overwhelms your fear when you're met with nothing but positivity.Â
-
beomgyu is shellshocked, to put it mildly. the picture of you and your so-called boyfriend is sickly sweet. it's not over the top or anythingâjust a candid of you in a cafĂ© holding hands with him while looking over the same menu. the caption is nothing other than a heart and squirrel emoji (why?) and both he and your best friend are tagged. his finger jumps to the boy's profile and he sees the same photo. he scoffs at the cheesiness of it all, but his heart aches at the way all of your friends have commented on the post expressing their happiness for you â they had never approved of him for reasons he's only now beginning to understand.
you always defended him in front of your friends no matter what he did or didn't do. you'd "comfort" him after your friends said something snarky and explain that they just didn't understand him. you'd say that if they knew the real him, they'd see him differently. at the time, he'd scoff and say something along the lines of "i don't need for them to see me differently because i couldn't give less of a fuck about what they thinkâ. you'd be hurt, of course you would be, but you'd never say so.
more and more, like an outsider looking in, he can see just how awful he was to you. it's to his horror that he realizes this must be the case for you, too. the chances of you getting back together with him seem slimmer and slimmer, especially now that you've got that pretty boy on your arm. your words echo in his mind as if to haunt him: "what can i do to make you give a fuck about me?" leave, apparently, and don't look back.Â
he can't keep living like this.Â
-
a knock on your door is all it takes to ruin your night â you had actually had a really good day up until now. you and taehyun had gone on a breakfast date and napped together until he had to leave in the afternoon, so you're humming now in contentment while applying your nightly skincare, thinking relentlessly about the boy you think you might be starting to love. it feels different from the love you felt for beomgyu, but in a good way. you still think about him and wonder how he's doing, but you always derail that train of thought with a god-given force previously unknown to you. he doesn't care about you, you chant to yourself â it's almost like your daily mantra. in the midst of your thoughts, you hear a knock on the door. you smile widely when you surmise that it's probably taehyun again. you don't realize just how big your grin is until it drops.Â
standing before you is not your lovely boyfriend, but the man who made you question whether or not you were even lovable in the first place. he has a small smile on his face, and if you were to look a little more carefully, you'd notice that he actually seems a little nervous.Â
"hi," he says, breaking the silence. his heart is racing a mile a minute, and potential scenarios battered his mind the entire way here. what would you do when you saw him? smile? he could handle that. cry? he could also handle that, even if he didn't want to see your tears. what he is not prepared for is the blankness of your features when you ask:Â
"what are you doing here?"Â
his smile falters almost imperceptibly.
"i, uh, i just wanted to see you." you're merciful enough to give him a nod of encouragement to continue. "a-and i wanted to tell you that i haven't stopped thinking about you for the past few months, and that i, um, i think i'm finally ready to be with you," he finishes with a shaky breath.
you're quiet for a moment and squint your eyes as if you're deep in thought.
"but i thought you were dating someone now? your ex?"
"i'm not!" he says almost a little too quickly.
"i heard you were," you counter, not quite believing him. you heard he had been seeing his ex from one of your friends who happened to live in her apartment complex. she had seen his car in the parking lot a few times in the last couple of weeks and had no reason to lie to you.
"w-well, i've seen her a few times, but not seriously. i â to be honest, i was just trying to get over you, but i've finally realized that i can't becauâ"
"so, just to make sure i understand, you're not over me so you're seeing her?" his eyes widen in shock before his head hangs in shame as he realizes exactly what he's done and how he must look to you right about now, but you're not finished. "isn't that what you were doing with me?" your voice is low and indifferent, but each word feels tailor-made to slash at his heart. "wow, i guess some things really never change, but don't worry, i'm sure once she moves on, you'll finally see the good in her instead of me," you spit out.
"can you listen to me? please?" beomgyu is so ashamed he wants to die. he fumbles for the right words, but when he accidentally makes eye contact with you, they die on his lips. he wishes you would give him time to process what you're saying and mull over what to respond with because you always knew he was bad with words, but he supposes he lost the right to your patience a long time ago.
"you want me to listen to you so you can fuck with my head until the next person rolls around?" the latter words are strangled by the tightness in your throat, and he can't help but wince. when he thinks it's over, you continue.Â
"nobody has ever made me feel as small as you have. i hated myself because of you," your lip trembles and before he can say a word, you're raising your hand to shut the door.
"wait, wait, wait! just let me say this," he pleads as he gently grasps the doorframe. "i... i love you." he almost thinks he hears you gasp, but he's too busy looking into your unreadable eyes to know for sure. he has never said anything like this to you before. you're completely silent for a few moments before breaking the tense atmosphere.
"j-jesus, i mean, i guess i just don't know what to say," you sputter and his eyes alight with what looks suspiciously like hope. "except maybe that... i'm sorry you feel that way?" you finish with a sardonic smile and a roll of your eyes. before he can respond, which he actually intends to do this time around, you slam the door in his face.
-
if you were to ask beomgyu if he loved his ex mere months ago, he'd say he didn't know for sure, but probably. they ended things rather messily, which seems to be a trend for him, but if he really thinks about it, he doesn't know what he liked about her after all. if he had to pinpoint it, he liked the thrill of the chase and the idea of never knowing how explosive things would inevitably get between the two of them. he liked the toxicity. only now does he understand that that wasn't love at all, but some sort of sick game of hurting and being hurt he doesn't want to play anymore. he doesn't want to hurt the people around him, especially not you, but it would appear that that sentiment has presented itself a little too late.Â
there's always been a lot to love about you. always. you're so kind and so incredibly patient, at least with the people you love. you're thoughtful and intentional with your words and actions. you're not perfect, but you try your best to be a good and fair person. and you listen. like, really listen. the kind of listening where you're not just waiting for your turn to talk, but the kind where you genuinely want to know what the other person has to say. even if he didn't know it at the time, beomgyu always did love you. was it in the way you deserved? obviously, with the way things are now, it's perfectly clear it was not.Â
even if he does bump into you, it's completely pointless. you made it perfectly clear that you want nothing to do with him. the last thing you said to him echoes in his head with an unspeakable viciousness.Â
"i'm sorry you feel that way." he didn't realize just how cruel those words were until they were falling from your lips instead of his. he didn't realize just how cruel he was in general.Â
he ponders over how succinctly you summed up your entire dynamic:
"i don't understand why i have to explain basic human emotion to you, and i really don't understand why i have to beg and plead for you to care about how i feel!" to be honest? he doesn't understand why you had to do that, either.Â
contrary to what one might suppose about him given his overall shitty personality, he had actually had a pretty good go at life. he was innately able to make the world sit and watch him go, and he wouldn't let anyone forget it. but what should he do since you don't want to watch him anymore? what should he do since you don't want anything to do with him anymore?Â
as he sits in the extremely uncomfortable chair of his new least favorite bar, he's confronted by this truth over and over again. he's not completely sure why he's even here â he hates this place, but he remembers you mentioning you liked to come here. in hindsight, there's no doubt that that was a way to hint that you'd like to come with him, but what use is it to recognize it now, after all this time?Â
not much, apparently. or at least that's what his conscience is telling him. he should leave, he thinks. he should stop coming here every night hoping he'll run into you because it's wrong to make you uncomfortable when you've said in no uncertain terms that you don't want him anymore. he should, he should, he should. and he will, really. in just a minute. that's what he tells himself, but he just watches the door as he gets drunker and drunker, still.
he's on the brink of literally passing out when he hears a sound he'd recognize anywhere: your laugh. he actually thinks he's hallucinating just because he wants to hear it so fucking badly, but it takes the sound of your voice to convince him it's real. you're actually here. he's incredibly drunk, so the idea of being tactful escapes him. he can't miss this chance.
-
you try, and try, and try some more, but you can't seem to forget beomgyu's last words to you. he loves you? you scoff at the idea. does he even know what love is? it doesn't feel like it â truly, it doesn't. if that's what his love feels like, you'd rather not feel it at all.Â
that's what you keep trying to hammer into your head along with the idea that you're doing well, and you are doing well. seriously. things with taehyun are better than ever and you can really see yourself building a life with him. everything feels so pure and brand new. your feelings for him may lack the intensity that you felt with beomgyu, but that was years in the making, so it's only fair that you nurture the love that's blossoming between the two of you while smothering out the embers of what used to be with beomgyu. it's only right, right? it should be, but the way you're so torn makes your head spin.
so you decide to go to your favorite bar and forget about everything for the night. it's been a long while since you've let loose, and you're excited. you're surrounded by your friends and you're ready to let go. it's only when you excuse yourself to get some fresh air that you realize fate has other plans.Â
when you're walking to the curb to take a seat, you feel a tug on your elbow and whip around.Â
"who â" you stop dead in your tracks as your eyes meet with beomgyu's misty ones. the ones you used to love so much.Â
"hey," he says weakly.
"what do you want?" you seethe while harshly yanking your elbow from his grasp. his lips purse and even in the dim lighting outside of the bar, you can see his eyes water even more. he's always been such a baby when he's drunk.Â
"i just wanna talk," he pleads. he sounds so out of it and looks so pathetic you almost feel bad for him. almost.
"i have nothing to say to you," you reply coldly.Â
"but i do." he sounds desperate to a degree that you sincerely never thought you'd hear.
"what, are you gonna tell me you love me again?" you retort with a roll of your eyes. you're obviously being sarcastic, but all he can think in his drunken state is how pretty your eyes shine even when they're impatient to look away from him.
"if you're not gonna say anything, i'm leaving," you snap, turning away, but beomgyu is awoken from his daze and gently pulls you back.
"n-no! i mean, yes. i love you, b-but that's not what i wanted to say."
"well, what did you want to say?" you ask, tone laced with annoyance.Â
seeing that you'll actually give him a chance to hear him out, he scrambles for a moment before clearing his throat. heâs so anxious that you can see his hands shaking as he wrings them.
"i just want to tell you that iâm sorry. i know iâve said it before, but i want you to hear it again, and iâll tell you as many times as it takes for you to believe me. i want to make it up to you â i really do â and i know that i can change. i'm â i just miss you so much i can't stand it. i-if you donât feel the same way, or donât care, or however it is, i understand; but i meant it when i said i love you, and i mean it now when i say that i'm so, so fucking sorry," his voice cracks as he finishes and hot tears threaten to find their way down his face.Â
"beomgyu..." you begin, not really sure what to say. what is there to say? and any hope he has of being with you is almost extinguished when he sees how much you pity him in this moment, but he'll hold on for as long as you'll let him.
"you said you saw the real me. you know i'm not all bad, right? i'm a piece of shit, but i can't be all bad," he pleads, tears now streaming unabashedly from his eyes. maybe if he can just find the right words, you won't leave him.
"beomgyu," you sigh, "i've never thought that about you. i know you're not all bad," his face perks up at this and he's tempted to bury his face in your neck and sob in pure relief. the pain he's been feeling for the past few months is about to be over because you understand him. always have. even though he's like this, you can still see the good in him. just the thought alone is enough to fill him with pure ecstasy. he goes to close the distance between the two of you to pull you into his embrace, but you gently place your hand on his chest before he can come any closer.
"thank you for telling me how you feel, beomgyu, but if you think you can fix everything with a few words, you're delusional." his face crumbles at this and a sense of panic and dread pools in his stomach.
"w-what? b-but you said â"Â
"i know you're sorry, and i know you'd probably try to make it up to me if i let you, but that's not enough. you really hurt me, okay? and it's just, you know, i'm finally happy now, and i have taehyun. i really like him, beomgyu. and he really likes me," you say with a fond smile, as if you're thinking of taehyun right now, and his heart shatters into a million pieces.Â
"it's okay," he smiles bitterly, tears still flowing freely. "i... i understand. i just want you to be happy. i want you to be so happy. you deserve it."
"but..."
"go back in," he sniffles. "you don't need to stay here with me anymore." he swipes at his eyes with his sleeve and tries to send you off with a smile, but it's so forlorn, you wish he'd just keep frowning.
"... okay." you turn away, and even though he told you to do it, he can't help but feel an even bigger lump in his throat now that you're actually listening to him.
"beomgyu?" you say softly, before you enter the door.Â
his damned heart can't help but flutter again against his will.Â
"yes?"Â
"don't wait for me anymore, okay?" and he knows youâre being kind, but it feels so final, it hurts more than any hateful words ever could. he should agree, but the ugly and selfish part of him refuses to lie, so he just shakes his head and waves you off. his love is ugly and his heart is broken, but it's still yours to have.Â
"I'm sorry," he murmurs again to nobody but himself as you enter the bar.
-
âtyuuunn,â you whine into your phoneâs speaker. you canât tell how it's been since your final conversation with beomgyu, but now youâre drunk and all you can think about is taehyun. about his kindness, how happy he makes you feel, and how much you want to give him all of that in return.
âwhat is it, baby?â he coos. even in your inebriated state, you can hear the smile in his voice and it makes you wanna smile, too.Â
âmiss youuu,â you groan. he laughs at your childishness, and you can feel just how much heâs doting on you. itâs a relatively new feeling, being cared for like this, but itâs one you welcome with fervor.
âlet me pick you up from that stupid bar so you can stay the night. howâs that sound?âÂ
âmmm, hurry up,â you pout, and he just laughs again. god, youâre gonna feel so embarrassed by your neediness come tomorrow morning, and he canât wait to tease you.Â
taehyun is so eager to see you, he almost gets pulled over twice while making his way to the bar. he just canât wait to see how cute youâll look in his arms, all whiny and grumpy and begging for affection; and heâll baby you, like he always does, because you deserve it. when he had heard about your appalling history with beomgyu, he couldnât believe how someone could treat a person as sweet as you so cruelly. truth be told, you do have a bit of a softer personality, but that only evoked the need to protect and cherish you in taehyun. he canât fathom the idea that somebody would see someone so pure and decide to take advantage instead of nurturing that innocence. his friends keep saying heâs a sucker, and theyâre probably right, but heâll happily be one for you.Â
heâs lost in his thoughts when he pulls into the parking lot of the bar youâre in, but his dopey grin drops the second he sees your dreaded ex stumbling away from the building. his face is red, and heâs feverishly wiping away tears and snot. taehyun is a smart man, so he can easily piece together what must have happened, but the thought that you were still thinking of taehyun in this moment comforts him. you had run into your ex, and instead of running back to him, youâre thinking of your new boyfriend. what a relief. taehyun has always known you were still a little broken up about your split with beomgyu. he came into this relationship fully knowing that, but he liked you so much, he really didnât care. maybe it was rash of him, but he thought it was worth taking a chance. he thought you were worth taking a chance, and so far, he had been correct.Â
he parks and stays in his car. if he were a petty person, he might ignore beomgyu and just walk right by him with his arm wrapped around your waist. taehyun, however, is a good person. so good, in fact, he waits for beomgyuâs friend to pick him up before leaving his car to find you.
when he enters the bar, he scans the crowd before he finds you sitting with your friends. your phone is to your ear and it only takes a few seconds for his own to ring. he smiles when he sees your contact photo (the one you both took on a date to your favorite frozen yogurt shop) appear on his screen. he rejects the call and watches you pout before striding over to you and placing his hand on your shoulder. you turn around with a scowl, but your features immediately melt, and you grace him with a toothy grin. you excitedly squeal and wrap your arms around him. he matches your enthusiasm as he peppers your face with kisses.
beomgyu, who has very unfortunately come back to get his phone, watches it all and itâs enough to make him nauseous. heâs in such a daze as he watches you two that he barely registers his own friend honking at him to hurry up. he sees the afterimage of you leaning into taehyunâs touch and accepts the fact that youâve truly moved on and wonât be coming back. he replays the last conversation you had and he decides heâll hold onto your words forever. theyâre all he has left, after all.
-
youâre so used to taehyunâs apartment that even though youâre drunk enough to see stars, youâre still able to navigate it with ease. taehyun sits you down on his couch and kneels while removing your shoes for you.Â
âso chivalrous,â you giggle.Â
âanything for my princess,â he replies cheekily with the biggest grin youâve ever seen.Â
âwhy are you so nice?âÂ
âbecause i like you,â he says as if itâs the most obvious thing in the world.
âi like you, too.â you whisper while your face warms. your gaze becomes heated, and he cups your cheeks while gently guiding your face towards his. his touch is soft, and his lips? even softer.Â
he doesnât push for more. youâre drunk and vulnerable at the moment, so he graciously grabs some of his clothes for you to change into and waits for you to come to bed. when you do, you plop down and he pulls you into his arms. you smile at his earnestness. he locks his arms around you, and for the first time in your life, a man is making you feel so happy and secure you canât help but melt into the feeling. you feel safe. you feel loved.
âi really like you, you know?â he whispers into your hair, and itâs all you can do to keep your heart inside of your chest.Â
âi know. i really like you, too.â and you do. things with taehyun are still new, but as his breathing slows, you realize this is how love should be, and you think you want to be with him for a long, long time.
notes pt. 2: yes there will be an alternate ending where she ends up with gyu :,)
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THE RESIGNATION
Summary: You can quit. It doesn't mean Rafe will let you.
Paring: CEO!Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader
Strictly 18+ No Minors to Interact
Warnings: Â 18+ Smut. Oral (w receiving) Masturbation (w), Rough Sex, PIV, Creampie, Fluff, Romance with a dash of Angst. AgedUp!Rafe. Not Proof-Read. Enjoy.
Word Count: 2k words
Author's Note: Something a little shorter, lighter and sweet. Happy reading and much love to you all â€ïž
Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Please donât steal or copy bits of my writing or any writing from other writers cause karma will get ya.
-------
*Buzzzzzzzzz*
âYes.â
âY/N is here to see you.â
âSend her in.â
Rafe watches in fascination as you shuffle in, your face taut and serious. Your eyes cast downward, clutching a file. As you tuck an unruly strand of hair behind your ear, he realizes you're nervous. The tension, his silence, makes you even more anxious.
âSit,â he instructs, motioning to the chair across his desk. Meanwhile, he keeps his gaze on his papers. He continues to read and leisurely sign forms. Yet, he can distinctly feel your eyes on him, both of you fully aware of the meeting's purpose.
For Rafe, the dynamics at play are exhilarating. After finishing his tasks, he lifts his eyes to find you focused on your file, seemingly avoiding his gaze.
He unbuttons his suit jacket and leans back, his fingers drum lightly on the fine-crafted letter in front of him. The paper carries a soft hint of perfume. It smells like you.
There's a part of him that wishes to be cruel, to use biting words he's often used with others in his employ. Yet something about you prevents him. The game of power was always in his favor, but with you, the boundaries become ambiguous, shifting in unexpected ways. With you, it's always been personal.
âWhy didn't you tell me you were unhappy?â he asks. His tone is calm, yet probing. You seem taken aback, eyes widening as they search his face.
He decides to try another approach. âIt's clear to me now,â he points to your letter of resignation. âYou were unhappy at Cameron Enterprises. How long have you felt this way?â
Your surprise is palpable, and he watches you closely, enjoying the tapestry of emotions that flash across your face, each one more captivating than the last.
âWell?â he prods.
You shift, straightening your back. âI am grateful for my time at Cameron Enterprises. Truly I am. The team has been so kind to me, and I'll honestly cherish the friends I've madeââ
âBut?â he asks, cutting you off, eager to understand.
âBut, I believe it's time for me to pursue other opportunities,â you admit, measuring your words. You slowly nod your head, as though you have thought this whole thing out, and now you are not only resolved with the thought but you truly believe it. Itâs this sureness, this resolution, that truly makes Rafe react.
âI see,â Rafe says as he presses a button, making the office walls turn opaque. "So, you think you've outgrown us."
âNoââ
"No?" he interrupts, rising from behind his desk and walking slowly toward you.
"No. I just- I feel it's time for me to try something... new.â
"Something new," he repeats, his gaze lowers to meet yours while you look up at him. His eyes scrutinize you carefully. âI respect that,â he nods, and as you avert your gaze, he gently hooks your chin with his fingers, prompting you to look him in the eye.
âNo, really. I do. What's the point of life if not to grow, right? But let me be crystal clear: leaving here is not an option. So, here's what I'm willing to offer," his voice is as smooth as honey as his thumb strokes your jaw. "First, a five percent raise. But seeing as youâre already on one of the highest salaries here, I suspect that won't really sway you. Youâll also be given a new title.â
"Rafâ"
"And to sweeten the deal," Rafe interrupts, "a vacation to any destination you want. You'll be whisked away on the company jet, stay at a five-star, luxury hotelâevery need pampered and taken care of. I'll see to that, and we'll get to that, but here's the thingâ" he whispers, his voice low and seductive.
"You embarrassed me todayâah, ah, I'm talking," he asserts, his eyes commanding yours into silence. "If it were anyone else, anyone else, no one would have noticed or given a flying fuck. But since itâs you, your little resignation created a lot of gossip. It made us look weak, hinted at instability, and in a Fortune 500 company, that's not going to work. Do you think the board cares about your need to âtry something new'? Hm," his gaze is drawn to your mouth as you clamp it shut.
"So for those reasons, I'm going to punish you,âhe says, while his thumb gently taps your chin. "But how to punish you...â he muses. âThatâs the real question.â
Pulling away, he slides his hands into his pockets and, after taking a few steps back, leans against his desk.
"Rafe, you know I was justâ I mean I wasnât trying toââ
"Spare me, all right? I'm not interested in hearing what you have to say. Not right now. What I want..." he said slowly as he tapped a finger to his chest "What I want, is for you to open your legs, yeah? That's what I want."
You're shocked â he gathers as much from the way you gulp, and Rafe can't help but let a smirk of self-satisfaction curl his lips.
"Don't look so surprised. You knew what working for me entailed when you agreed to it. Now, spread your legs. Let me see what I'm shelling out nearly half a mil for."
"Rafe, I⊠I" you murmur.
Crossing his arms, his gaze locks onto yours signalling the end of the discussion. Hesitantly, and with much caution, you eventually slide your legs apart, your skirt riding up ever so slightly.
"Wider," Rafe commands, "Lean back and open them wider."
Breathing heavily, you do as he asks. Leaning back against the chair, you spread your legs open fully, causing your skirt to ride up to your waist, revealing your panty-covered sex. The damp patch, dark against the bright red fabric teases him.
"Pull your panties to the side. Let me see how wet you are.â he whispers silkily.
You turn your head away shyly but eventually you hook a finger into the fabric and pull it aside, exposing your slick wet folds to his ravenous gaze.
Rafe smiles in approval.
"That's good." he purrs, "Now, touch yourself. That pussy looks like it needs a good fingering " his voice rumbles with authority as his gaze flickers from your face to your exposed weeping slit. You hesitate, breathing heavily while trying to form a protest.
"I⊠I'm notâ"
"Do it," he interrupts firmly.
You hesitate for a few moments, but eventually obey by pushing a finger into your dripping sex. A moan escapes your lips when Rafe lets out a deep groan as encouragement. Your hesitation seems to disappear and you push another finger in.
"Fuck," he hisses. "Add another. I know you can handle it."
You nod slowly and introduce a third, while the middle finger of your other hand gently rub your clit. Sinking into the sensation you open your legs wider for more access, your fingers moving hard and fast.
Rafe groans in protest. âGo slow...This isnât for you. Itâs about what I want, and what I want is for you to tease yourself. You're not allowed to cum. Not yet. Not until I say.â
You whimper but follow his command. You slow your speed til it's teasing almost leisurely and Rafe soaks it all in. The jolts of pleasure that have you mewling, the way your chest rises and fall, breathless, desperate. The way you curl your fingers just enough to make you gasp. It's incredible to watch and as your hips begin to buck against your massaging fingers, Rafe finds himself looming over you, taking in the sight of your ecstasy-filled face and finger-stuffed pussy.
He leans in and kisses you. His tongue lashes yours, tasting your moans and desperation. He pulls away, eyes back on your wet centre, focused on your fingers moving in and out, accompanied by the sweet wet sounds it makes and your hips rising from the chair.
"Go on, make that pussy cum." he orders. In no time, your orgasm washes over you. He can see it build from your core as you shudder and your thighs shake, your breath hitches fighting to stave it off and then it radiates out from the depths of your soul in a moan of pure ecstasy.
Before you can catch your breath, Rafe pushes your hand away and laps at your essence with his tongue. His hands on the back of your knees, push your legs right to your chest, keeping it wide open as he tongue fucks you.
Eating you out was always an appetizer he savored, making sure you had cum at least twice from his efforts, but right now, with his blood boiling with anger and frustration, he's famished and desperate for the main course.
Urgently, he undoes his slacks and lifts your legs even higher, pinning your ankles above your head with one hand. Without giving you time to adjust, he smears his cock with your slick and plunges deep into your tight heat, pressing you into the chair with his body weight as he begins to pound you.
It's a painful position, and he's acutely aware of that. It's deep and aggressively forceful, the type of position that should be approached with care, or ease you gently into it. But right now, it's not about you. Right now he's too riled up to care and so he fucks you without remorse or restraint, reducing you to nothing more than a fuck toy- his fuck toy spurred on by the delicious moans that escape your parted lips.
Your hands cling to the armrests for dear life as you desperately try to maintain your balance. Rafe continues to slam his hips against the back of your thighs, taking pleasure in your inability to move while he plows you deep. You whimper, desperate to escape his grip, but it does nothing to deter him. Instead, he revels in your struggle, knowing that your lack of control will only intensify his orgasm and your own.
"You want to quit..." Rafe sneers. He watches you whimper and feels your pussy tighten like a vice, while simultaneously soaking the front of his slacks. It makes him feral and he redoubles his efforts, fucking you into the chair until it starts to scrape against the cherry-oak floor.
"You want to quit on me?" he strains, while he observes ecstasy wash over your face, your eyes roll back in a pleasure-filled awe. With one hand, he gently taps your cheek to keep you focused.
"You wanna quit on me? Huh?â And he leans in further, his cock repeatedly hits a spot so deep youâre shaking, babbling and barely coherent.
âYou're not going anywhere. Not now, not ever," he grunts, "Now fucking cum. Fucking cum.â His ruthless demand pushes you higher until all inhibitions are obliterated. You scream out in surrender, bucking up onto his plundering cock while Rafe releases a guttural moan, filling you with ribbon after ribbon of thick cum.
Several minutes have passed when his movements gradually stops, signaling the ebbing of his energy. He's exhausted, his fervor having reached its climatic end. He pulls out, his balance wavering slightly until his back meets the glass desk behind him. A contented exhale escapes his lips as he takes in the sight of you.
There you are, looking thoroughly fucked out. Your legs are splayed open, a sheen of sweat glistens on your skin, reflecting the aftermath of passion. His cum slowly leaks out of you and you wear it like a carnal badge of honor. Observing your state, heâs acutely aware that his own appearance mirrors yoursâfucked out and messy. His clothes is in disarray, his cock is hanging out and physical exhaustion makes his body seek support against the table.
Despite the disheveled scene, a wave of affection swells within him, washing over any remnants of his earlier anger. His chest heaves as he gulps in air, attempting to control his breathing.
"You're lucky I love you," he manages to say, each word punctuated by his effort to recover. His gaze locks onto yours, intense yet softened by the rush of emotions. "No one else has this infuriating, intoxicating effect on me. You drive me to the brink and back," he adds, a playful seriousness lacing his tone as he licks his lips. "For that little stunt, I should fire you," he teases.
Your fingers glide through the cum dripping from your sex, and Rafe can't suppress a sense of pride. He always takes pride in the chaos he creates, especially when you revel in it.
"I've been trying to talk to you, but you've been so distracted lately, you haven't been listening" you sigh, as you try to catch your breath. "What else was I supposed to do to get your attention? Hand me some tissues, will you?"
He pauses, his eyes narrowing as he digests your words, then reaches with a trembling hand for the tissue box on his desk. "When? When did you try to talk to me and I wasn't listening?" he asks. He takes a clump of tissues and hands them to you.
"This morning at breakfast, and last night during dinner. I barely started speaking before you turned the conversation back to contractors and deadlines and even when I gave you a solution, not just one Rafe but two- two concrete solutions you ignored me. It was like I wasn't even there. It's not the first time." you explain, accepting the tissues from him.
"I didn't realizeâ"
"You did," you interrupt, ensuring your eyes stay fixed on his to underline your statement. "Why do you think I kept singing the song about wanting to make some changes, wanting to try something new. I've been saying it for weeks on and off because this is clearly not working."
âI thought you were talking about remodeling the offices, not resigning from the company. It's a family businessâhow would it look if my wife quits?" His voice carries a hint of concern, not just for the optics but for the unspoken bond that this business represents between the two of you.
A soft sigh escapes you as you lock eyes with him, a delicate blend of frustration and affection. "Rafe, I don't want to walk away from this," you admit "But I need more than just a title and a desk. I need to feel heard, to be part of this with you, not just in name because I'm married to a Cameron. I want to be a part of the decisions and changes we dare to dream up together."
Rafe's eyes hold yours, a moment of realization dawning upon him. "I see you," he says quietly, the weight of his oversight apparent in his tone. "I'm sorry I wasn't listening. Do you really want to leave? Is that what you truly want?"
His question, earnest and laced with vulnerability, hangs between you, but you shake your head gently. "No, I don't want to leave, Rafe. I just want... more. More involvement, more acknowledgment, and yes, maybe even a little more attention. But leaving? No. This place, with all its madness, is where I belong."
He exhales, the relief evident in the way his shoulders drop slightly, the rigid line of worry softening around his eyes. "Thank fuck for that," he says with a hushed intensity. "Because I can't imagine doing any of this without you. But let's agree on no more 'resignation stunts' in the future, yeah? It's bad press and only makes for bad businessâbesides, I doubt my heart can take it."
You nod, agreeing, a mischievous glint in your eye as if to say youâll find another effective way to get right under his skin, because in the end you always do. âFine. But for the record, I do have some ideas for my office too."
He laughed, the sound rich and warm, and he pulled you into a messy, loving kiss. "We'll discuss it at home, Mrs. Cameron. For now, let's get you cleaned up, yeah?"
"Speak for yourself. You're the one with your dick hanging out."
With a shared laugh and a sweaty kiss, you both begin the task of putting the officeâand yourselvesâback together, the line between professional and personal wonderfully blurred.
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A/N - See guys I can do sweet đ I tried to keep the reveal until the end shhhh đ€ Thanks for reading x If you enjoyed it please reblog as it supports writers. Until next time â€ïž
#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x you#rafe x reader#rafe fanfiction#rafe obx#rafe outer banks#outerbanks rafe#obx fanfiction#rafe cameron smut#rafe fic#outer banks rafe#rafe imagine#rafe x y/n#rafe x you#rafe cameron imagines#outer banks fanfiction#obx x reader#rafe cameron x y/n#drew starkey x reader#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron one shot#drew starkey#obx fanfic#obx#outer banks#outer banks smut#smut warning
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Fatherâs weakness
Aka another mom figure x arlecchino!
Warnings: blood, injury to reader, stitches,
A/n: part of this was written before her story quest, but i wanted to get something out after weeks of nothing. Tryna feed my arlecchino fans out there
You hadnât ever fought in your life. You were not a fighter by any means. But when one of the city mechas malfunctioned and started to target the very child you were with, something in you snapped. Before you could think you were struggling against a metallic arm, blood dripping from your hands as you had stopped the blad with your palm. In that instance all pain was numb, your body didnât exist but your determination to protect the very helpless and small child did, it overrides your weakness as you had successfully stopped it. The child in question immediately screaming for help.
âI donât want to leave you! No I wonât leave you again mommy!â She cried, her mother had been murdered, thatâs why she was a orphan, you could only imagine how horrific it was for her.
âCelia you have to run! Iâll be fine!â You said, lying through your damn teeth. The machine tried to overpower you, your body was pushed back as you tried to wrestle the sword from its hand.
Finally the guards, the human ones arrived. A gunshot aired as the mecha turned its attention to far more dangerous agressors and withdrew its sword to fight them instead. Leaving you to fall to the floor, injured and awkwardly comforting Celia as she immediately tried to drag you back to the house of hearth.
âI canât really say youâre a fool. There wasnât exactly any better alternative in that situation.â Your coworker said. You winced as she stitched the gash in your hands. There wasnât much time to get a pain killer so you bore it through your teeth. âBut Alrecchino will certainly be unhappy with the guardes. I truly donât understand why it picked on you.â
âJust.. keep scolding me or something. Its easier to forget the pain.â You whispered. The children were hysterical outside. You, the favorite caretaker, had been greatly injured. Of course they were upset, these are orphans. You could hear the older agents trying to soothe the younglings outside.
âArlecchino wonât be pleased. Lets just hope her anger will be directed towards the engineers.â
âLikely. I didnât do anything against the code, infact Its well within my job description to protect the children if needed. I may have lied about my capabilities on that thoughâŠâ you hissed. Now without the adrenaline did everything fucking hurt. The antiseptic in your wounds, the bruises, the needle actively piercing your skin, it fucking hurt. But you had to suck it up, otherwise the children would meltdown into utter chaos believing their mother was dying.
âSurely you know that she.. values you in some way. I was just saying that she may be particularly pissed. You are her favorite.â
âWait what? Iâm the kids favorite, thatâs no secret, but hers? Are you sure?â You asked skeptically. Although Clarice had been quite old, having worked for the previous knave and well into her 50s, you didnât think she had a eye for those details.
âIt doesnât take a expert. But you should be more careful.â
âAnd what? Let the machines murder the kids Iâm designated to protect? No! I did nothing wrong! I donât care if I destroyed or damaged that machine. Iâd sooner punch the Iudex myself then let any of those kids get harmed on my watch.â You said defensively.
âYes I understand. There. Youâre done. Now Iâll wrap it so the kids donât worry to much. Now please go out there so the kids donât start mauling each other.â Clarice groaned. You took your hand, it wasnât pretty, you certainly couldnât let the kids see that kind of wound when theyâre so young.
âMom! Mom!â The children only became more rowdy when you left through the door.
âBack up now! Youâre all going to crush each other!â You said sternly. Only about half seemed to listen, you had to repeat yourself a few times before they relaxed. âIâm okay children. Iâm just a little hurt, Iâll live okay?â You flipped your hands around to showcase the bandages, hoping theyâd relax. They did but you could still see the worry. Even the older children seemed concerned. âPlease return to what you were doing now, all is well. No one is dying or leaving okay?â You said. Slowly they dispersed. If only because their worries had been addressed. But you knew it didnât fully do so. But at least now you could walk down the halls. You sighed as you walked towards the entrance, seeing a few guards.
âYou wonât take our mommy!â One kid said immediately latching onto your leg. You patted his head.
âThis isnât a arrest. In fact we just wanted to get a report from you as to what happened. We understand you left the scene almost Immediately yes?â The officer in question seemed suspicious of you. As if you had something to benefit from the situation. âGreat heâs going to find anything to twist into suspicionâ
âSir I hope you understand that now is not the the time for interviews. I have just been patched up and I am still on the clock, I have a big responsibility right now. Iâll be happy to come to your olace for a official statement but now is not the time. Now please leave before the children get worried even more so.â
âMaâam we have to get your point of view to better understand-â
âI was taking one of the children for icecream because she had been very good and it was her birthday. That mecha started randomly attacking people and I jumped in to save her. That is all you are getting at this hour, now please step outside.â You said, you didnât trust this officer. Just his eyes alone were shifty, plotting, something wasnât right with him and you werenât going to risk it,
âMa-am do not put your hands on me.â
âI am very much not touching you right now. Am i not allowed to exist in the air nearby you? Let me repeat myself, i will go to the palais to give my statement once Iâm clocked out. You however need to get out.â Normally you were polite and understanding, the epitome of grace and manners. But you almost died today so you didnât feel intimidated by the cops ad you had previously been.
âMay I at least speak to the child?â
âI will not repeat myself sir, get. Out. We will give our statement later.â You said pointing to the door. He wrote something down which annoyed you greatly.
âAlright, you donât have to be so rude. Iâll leave. We expect your testimony soon.â He said. You frowned even more so.
âWhat a bitch.â A child said.
âDo not use that language Belle.â You sighed.
âArlecchino was supposed to be back by now, but I believe sheâs having a strong word with the guards right now.â Lynette explained. From the way her tail swished you could sense she was alarmed. âMany people are afraid of the mechas right now. Apparently theyâve been temporarily recalled. Although the current belief is that one of the wild ones managed to sneak in without suspicion. But its only a theory for now. The important thing is you are safe.â Despite her stoic face you could see both her and Lyney needed reassurance of your wellbeing. Like the many children who were now on edge.
âI am safe. A doctor came by to inspect my injuries and said that I should be fine. Iâm likely s little anemic is all. For now I canât do any heavy lifting or intensive jobs.â You explained. Lyney stiffened.
âThat shouldnât be a issue, Freminet and I would be more than willing to help you with anything.â He offered. You smiled trying to reassure the twins of your health.
âThat is sweet but you two have your own lives now. But if you have the time to I wouldnât complain. Just donât go against your fatherâs orders just for me okay. I donât want anyone getting into trouble.â
âThatâs reasonable enough. Will you still be working?â Lynette asked.
âWell like you said, Arlecchino isnât home yet so Iâd have to discuss that with her. But likely yes. I have already used up my sick days for the month.â You smiled.
âNo Iâm sure sheâd let you rest at least!â Lyney said.
âIâm glad you care Lyney but itâs up to your Father to decide. Besides Iâm still kicking. Iâll be fine.â
âFather did tell us to accompany you for now. How is Celine right now?â
âShe had a panic attack and had to be kicked out of the nursing station. But sheâs uninjured and Iâve spent time to calm her down. Unfortunately she didnât get to finish her icecream.â You joked. They didnât seem to enjoy your humor.
âWe can get her some ourselves. You just relax for now.â He said. You sighed.
âMiss Alrecchino.â You bowed as she entered the room. She however seemed anything but normal. She held your face forcing you to look at her and tilting it, as if checking for any injuries.
âHow are you feeling.â Her tone was different. She sounded riled and angry. You dreaded seeing this side of her.
âIâm just a little weak right now. My palms hurt quite badly but Iâll be fine.â You said. She seemed unpleased.
âShe didnât even use painkillers..â she said under her breath. âYou should rest. Bandage the wound and check in with the doctor, ill ask the others to lighten your workload for the time being. Be cautious from now on.â
âY-yes.â You bowed as you quickly exited, unsure if you had heard the entire conversation properly.
And that was it. Arlecchino despite her cold and unfeeling demeanor, everyone else seemed convinced she had a fondness for you. But even if she did you could never see it in her eyes. Her eyes looked somehow dull and sharp, dangerous maybe a better term. Sometimes they soften, the light would reflect in them but her lips hardly ever curved then. It was like she never smiled with her eyes but never smiled when her eyes lit up. But you had a job to do, you had to help the kids, you could ponder arlecchinoâs emotions later.
#genshin imagines#genshin x y/n#genshin impact#arlecchino is so hot please step on me#arlecchino x you#arlecchino drabbles#arlecchino x reader
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Cursed Bloodsucker
pairing: Wednesday Addams x Fem Reader!
summary: A day of the week, you'd think curses and hexes was all on the same day, but surely it wasn't that bad.. You had a girlfriend, didn't you?
A/N: I feel good tonight, and I feel like I didn't do pretty shitty here..
Warnings!: ermmm....ooc wednesday probably..
Masterlist
Being a vampire had its perks, but everything seemed to be..a downside for a certain individual today, specifically, friday. One might say, 'Oh, but how bad can it be?', well...
"OâOw, Jesus Christ, easy on the stitches Wednesday.."
"If you'd just listen to what I had told you, we wouldn't be in this predicament."
Waking up early wasn't a problem for the vampire, so instead of listening to Wednesday, she decided to sleep in, and look where that got the bloodsucker. Running off to her second period while trying to neat out her wrinkled vest. She couldn't see well really, having her satchel slinging on her shoulder for dear life, her sunglasses almost falling off before she got inside the classroom, what a sight to see.
Disheveled hair, wrinkled clothes, slipping satchel, she thought it couldn't get worse.
She might've jinxed that one, that for a moment she thought she was cursed for living on specific days.
Walking was supposedly calming for the vampire, but today just seemed to be a day you wanted to get over with.
"Okay, what's for lunch, oohâ gimme!"
"Yâ Y/N! Stopâ!"
She was determined to have a bite of whatever Enid was having for lunch, unknowingly, the utensil Enid decided to use for todays lunch was silvered utensils. Why did that school have silvered utensils anyway? Well, labels. They have labels.
She reacted instantly to the object, dropping the spoon, immediately. "Fucks sake! Whaâ"
"That's silver!"
If only she didn't let her intrusive thoughts win for once, maybe then she'd live another day.
Another problem, a full moon was happening tonight, what a coincidence!
She felt too worn out to even go out and feed, but she just had to, didn't she.
That same night, she did quite have an interaction with a shifting wolf, then gets mauled. What are the chances, huh? Thankfully, Wednesday was there to save the day! Or night.
"I feel exhausted, thank goodness it's the weekend tomorrow..I don't always have the best luck on friday's I swear, I'm cursed."
"Perhaps it's because you think you are."
Wednesday tidies the kit and stitches on the vampires bed, making her way in the bathroom and began cleansing her hands filled with the blood of her girlfriend.
"Noâ I really do have bad lucks on fridays.. Remember that one time I had an essay due? And I accidentally poured coffee, everywhere. Then there was that time when I slipped on the stairs and nipped my fucking tooth, and had my lip busted. But, I guessâ they weren't as bad.. Because I had a lovely, gorgeous girlfriend to help me recover from all of that.."
The raven sat next to the vampire, scrutinizing her lover. She had a light smirk plastered on her lips, she leaned forward, your lips mere inches away from touching. You waited, you always did. You closed your eyes, awaiting her plump crimson lips making contact with yours, but that didn't happen. Tonight was different, she felt like tormenting you. She had only pecked your cheek.
What. The. Fuck.
Bothered, you gazed at her as she began inspecting the stitches on your arm. "Stitches look horrendous on you, Cara Mia."
"You're just pure evil, like the devil, did you know that?" You grumbled, unhappy that she still hasn't given you the one thing that you were waiting for all day, considering she was out with Eugene the whole day.
"Some consider me as Lucifer's daughter, but that isn't new, no."
Her eyes looked rather, luminous under the moons emitting light, you were ready to do everything she'd order you to, even let her redo the perfect stitches she's done just so she could have all her attention back at you, while she enjoys at what she does best. Being your girlfriend.
You didn't dare disrespect her, or even trespass her boundaries and limitations. Never in your life would anything hurtful leave that mouth of yours, you love her too much to do so.
Your gaze didn't leave her still figure, if anything it made you more focused on her, and only her. Your fingertips grazing on her pale skin, feeling her burgundy lips on your finger, to your desperate bloodied lips.
Fridays in the morning were a no, but the night time was an exception.
______+______
A/N: Wednesday has my heart, but she's soo difficult to write for sometimes đ this is a makeup for the recent imagine đ
#wednesday addams x reader#jenna ortega#jenna marie ortega#jenna ortega x fem!reader#jenna ortega x you#tara carpenter x reader#wednesday addams#jenna ortega x reader#wednesday addams x female reader#wednesday x reader#wednesday addams imagine#wednesday x fem!reader#wednesday netflix#wednesday addams x you
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how they speak up for you â mitsuri, shinobu, kyojuro, sanemi, muichiro
Authorâs Note: short and sweet, and hopefully a lil funny too. đ
how they speak up for you â mitsuri, shinobu, kyojuro, sanemi, muichiro
Kanroji Mitsuri x Reader, Kocho Shinobu x Reader, Rengoku Kyojuro x Reader, Shinazugawa Sanemi x Reader, Tokito Muichiro x Reader
Word Count: ~800
CW: explicit language, mild sexual content
Emergency Request Fulfilled: could you write comfort for when Their S/o like absolutely hates speaking up for themselves, like someone could be walking all over them and they'd be like "Oh, its fine" bc conflict= worst enemy? I would like to request Muichiro (love him sm) and Sanemi if that's okay, and the rest you can decide (-if you want to add more.)
~faqs~
Mitsuri will be all over the situation (in a good way, ofc đ)
âBaby, didnât you want your drink hot?â â> sheâs already staring daggers at the barista who made your drink đ
âHm?â
You do your best to conceal the pinch of your eyebrows, as well as the goosebumps raising on your arms đ„¶
âI thought cold drinks made you cold, and you donât like being cold?â
⊠âHm?â
Sheâs not buying your nonchalance đ
âThatâs it.â Uh oh. âIâm getting you your drink made right.â
đłđ«Łđ«
âNonono, Mitsuri, itâs fiiine.â đ
Arms crossed, her lips purse, eyes narrowed as you weakly grin and take a big sip đ
âIf you wonât let me get you another one, then at least wear my sweater?â
đ€Ż âOkay!â đ€
So maybe sheâs wearing a cropped tank top underneath â youâre only a mere mortal after allÂ
â #oops my thirst made an appearance đ
Short girlfriend = scary girlfriend
And thatâs a compliment đ
Shinobu doesnât need height, bulk, or a dick to defend you
Her scathing tongue and unnerving stare are plenty
Not to mention, sheâll go full Karen if need be, but the more eloquent, calculating, deceptively sweet version đ
She can make anyone feel like a complete idiot in 2-3 sentences, give or takeÂ
Which does include you, but you donât argue too often đ
Basically:
Itâs highkey hot when she speaks up for you đ€
But it may or may not make you cry when her sharpness is directed toward you đ„Č
Fortunately, you in distress is also one of few things that immediately softens her â at least, when sheâs the reason for it đ„ș
Kyojuro always tries to solve your problems for you
Not bc he thinks youâre incapable, and not w/o your expressed consent/prior communication
But he just hates seeing you unhappy, uncomfortable, unsafe â really anything that isnât grinning and laughing
He understands thereâs a time and place for more difficult and painful emotions, but why on earth wouldnât he go out of his way to ensure those times and places are as few and far between as possible????? đ€š
So, obvi, he more than willingly goes out of his way âșïž
âDo you want me to say something?â his quiet breath warms your ear, softening the frustration growing in your chest
âI dunno,â you sigh, gesturing hopelessly at the person whoâd just cut you in line, âWeâre all going to the same place anyway.â
âTrue,â he shrugs, âBut that was quite rude and noticeable of them.â
âDo you want to say something?â you tease, elbowing his side with amused fondness
âNot if it discomforts you.â
âIt wouldnât discomfort me,â you mumble, cheeks darkening nonetheless, âYouâre so cute.â
Albeit, you arenât sure whether to feel proud or embarrassed when he somehow intimidates the person who cut you into leaving altogether đ
On one hand, you know Sanemi has your back âșïž
On the other hand, you arenât 100% positive that thatâs a good thing đŹ
âI swear, does that bitch even know I exist?!â đ€
⊠đ«Ł
âI bet she doesnât! Otherwise she wouldnât dare treat you like-â đ€
âAnd this is why she doesnât know you exist.â đ„Č
âPardon?â đ
âSanemi, I love you, and I so appreciate how ready to go to war you are for me, but-â
âOoh darling, you have no idea. Go to war? I will be the war for you.â đ€
âSo sweet,â your eyes roll, âHow about you just let me handle it?â
âAnd how are you handling it?â he scoffs, âWith smiley face emojis?â đ
âŠ
âYou deserve kindness and honesty. Not her manipulative bitch shit.â
âIâll block her.â
âYou what?!â đł
âWould that suffice?â đ
âActually⊠yeah.â Sanemi is very surprised. Gushing now, âIâm so fucking proud of you.â đ„°
Itâs kind of alarming when Muichiro speaks up for you
Bc you get a faint taste of what he was like before heâd really opened up to love đ
And that Tokito Muichiro is sharp and cold as steel w/ a -139% tolerance for bullshit
Impossible to impress đŹ
But your Muichiro hugs you when youâre feeling low, rests his chin on your shoulder while you do your best to draft a stern, confident text msg to your asshole âfriendâ, and is more than happy to tell you what he would do were he in your shoes
⊠you usually ignore his advice đ
Buuut sometimes he reaches over and hits SEND before you can stop him đ«
âMUI! I was going to delete some of that!â đ
âNah, itâs great as is.â đ
#headcanons#modern au#kimetsu no yaiba#demon slayer#kanroji mitsuri#mitsuri x reader#kocho shinobu#shinobu x reader#rengoku kyojuro#kyojuro x reader#shinazugawa sanemi#sanemi x reader#tokito muichiro#muichiro x reader
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But Daddy I Love Him | J.H.S
Summary: You finally tell your dad and Rooster about your secret relationship with Hangman. Content Warnings: Secret relationship, mentions of food/eating Lyric: "Now I'm dancing with my dress in the sun, and even my daddy just loves him." Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Mav's daughter reader
Buy me a coffee
âI know you like to get involved with what I do for work, but I need you to stay away from Hangman, got it?â Your dad had asked you one night over dinner.
âWhy? Whatâs wrong with Hangman?â
âHeâs an asshole, thatâs whatâs wrong with him,â Bradley said.
âYeah, okay.â
You just couldnât stay away. The first time that Hangman got you by yourself was on the patio of The Hard Deck. Everyone was too busy inside to worry about what was going on so close to the water. He did a pretty good job of chatting you up and getting your number before you went inside because your dad was getting worried about you. That was months ago, and you and Jake had done a pretty good job of keeping your relationship a secret so far. You had a few close calls but nothing too serious, mainly just Payback and Fanboy catching you hugging or being too close to each other for âacquaintancesâ. They definitely knew, but Jake scared them into not telling Mav.
Both of you knew what you wanted out of this relationship. You wanted to marry each other but there were a few things you needed to do first. The most important being that your dad had to know about the relationship, even if heâd be unhappy about it. That was the most nerve wracking part, since he was the one who told you to stay away from the Dagger Squad, Hangman in particular.Â
âYou should come by for dinner tonight,â your dad had told you over a phone call while you were sitting on your couch with Jake. Jake quickly shook his head and you had to stifle a laugh.Â
âI actually have plans with some college friends who are in town,â you lied.
âOh, which friends?â
âJust some friends from the tennis club that I was in. I donât think I talked about it that much with you.â
âOh, okay. Well, have fun.â
âThanks. Oh, Iâve been meaning to tell you that Iâve been seeing someone. He wants to meet you and Penny. Letâs schedule a dinner at my apartment some time in the next few weeks. How does that sound?â
By the end of the phone call, you had dinner scheduled and had told your dad a little bit about your new boyfriend. He didnât know that it was Hangman, and if he had somehow figured it out, it wasnât obvious. You spent the rest of the night with Jake, mainly relaxing and watching movies on the couch. As you both climbed in to your bed, you talked about telling everyone else.Â
âLetâs tell Bradley on the same day as dinner with my dad. Actually, weâll call and tell him after. I donât want him to let it slip to my dad before we get a chance to say anything.â
The next couple of weeks flew by, and there were only a few hours until your dad and Penny would be at your apartment for dinner. You told Bradley about dinner, and he decided to join, so you didnât have to go to the base just so that you and Jake could announce your relationship. Jake joined you at your apartment while you cooked dinner. You had him set the table and put a bottle of wine on ice. There were plenty of beers in the fridge, since you only had wine on special occasions. (Mainly because you werenât really a fan of it unless it tasted like jam.)
Bradley walked in with Penny and your dad at the perfect time. You were pulling the lasagna out of the oven and Jake was in the bathroom. You mentioned that when your dad asked you where your boyfriend was, leaving out his name.Â
It was a surprise to everyone when Jake walked out of the bathroom and asked if you were all ready to eat. Bradley immediately got a beer out of the fridge, Penny looked impressed, and you couldnât quite describe the look on your dadâs face. Everyone sat down and started eating, and things were mostly quiet except for the occasional ask to pass something across the table.Â
âSo, how long have you two been dating?â Your dad asked.
âA few months, and before you get worked up, weâre happy.â
âIâm not worked up, okay? I just wanna know why you kept it a secret for so long.â
âThatâs what youâre wondering about?â Bradley asked, âI mean, Hangman, I knew you were seeing someone when you started skipping nights at The Hard Deck. Iâm wondering why this, why now, yâknow? Like, why get us together for dinner to announce this? Not that Iâm really complaining, I get a free meal, but this couldâve been a text, really.â
You sighed and put your head in your hands out of embarrassment. Bradley did have a point, but you were mainly focused on trying not to laugh.Â
âWeâre thinking of getting married. Thatâs why youâre all here, because one day, weâre gonna have a big ceremony,â you glared at Jake while he was speaking, âor weâll head down to the courthouse, and weâll want you there to celebrate with us.â
âDo you love him?â Your dad asked you.Â
âYes,â you said as you nodded your head.
âAnd do you love her?â
âAbsolutely, sir,â Jake said.
âThatâs all I needed to hear. Get married, have fun, do whatever you want. But try not to rush into it, okay?â
âWait, really?â You asked through chuckles.
âYeah. If youâre happy, Iâm happy. I couldnât really stop you, anyways, since it is your life.â
âIâll cheers to that,â Jake said. You clinked wine glasses and beer cans before handing out dessert.You had made a cheesecake before everyone arrived, so all you had to do was pull it out of the fridge and cut it. Bradley stayed a lot longer than anyone thought he would, not leaving until midnight when you pointed out how late it was getting.Â
It was somewhat surprising that your dad had approved of the relationship so easily. It was even more surprising that Rooster was okay with all of it. Either way, you werenât complaining. And since you and Jake were more comfortable with being open about your relationship, you started going to The Hard Deck with him and the rest of the Dagger Squad. You even loudly supported him at the next air show that he had, while hanging out with the other partners of the group.
Taglist:
@littlebadariell @cycbaby @luckyladycreator2 @idontcare-11 @blue-aconite @maverick-wingman @shawty-fenty @littlemisstopgun @rosiahills22 @katieshook02 @justanothermagicalsara @caitsymichelle13 @smoothdogsgirl @adoringsebstan @cherrycola27 @alexxavicry @mrsjaderogers @mak-32 @thefandomimagines @tallrock35 @caatheeriinee07 @bradshawseresinbabe @atarmychick007 @3sriracha @genius2050 @halstead-severide-fan @withakindheartx @Lolliepops2501 @avengersfan25 @genrockstar
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#hangman x reader#jake seresin x reader#jake hangman seresin#x reader#top gun maverick#reader insert#top gun#the tortured poets department#ttpd
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Pairing:Â poly! WooSan x gn! Reader
Word Count:Â 4587
Warnings:Â cursing, implied sexual activity, arguing
Genre:Â Angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, established relationship, T for teen
Summary:Â In a relationship with Wooyoung and San, you feel left out of their activities. One evening, it all blows up.
this is my baby :') (yes i keep saying that about my fics) but i spent a lot of time on this and i think its one of my best works lol,,,,i hope u enjoy! i do have a second, shorter, part with the aftermath if you'd be interested
thank you to @hobeemin for betaing <3
Youâre sitting on the couch with two pairs of legs in your lap. To anyone else, it would look like a sweet scene. Your boyfriends cuddling while you watch them fondly. But youâve never felt so alone before.
You knew you were the addition to the relationshipâSan and Wooyoung had been dating for a long while before they met you, and it took another few years for them to ask you to join their relationship. After crushing on the two of them for so long, you had leapt at the chance to.
At first, you were just happy to be thereâto have them smile at you sweetly, hold your hand, and press you into the sheets so well. But as time passed, it felt like being there was all you had to be happy about.
Sometimes, you wonder if you had just misconstrued the whole thing. Maybe they just wanted a roommate they could fool around with. Or youâre just reading too much into it. Itâs only been six months since you were invited into the relationship.
As youâre contemplating your relationship with the two, your boyfriends stand. You only notice because of the weight leaving your body. âHey, babe, Sannie and I are going to the bedroom, okay?â
âOhâ is there anything I can do too?â The desperation in your voice is evident, and you hate that it is. Sanâs eyes soften but both he and Wooyoung chuckle. Not meanly, but not kindly.
âNot today. Enjoy the movie.â
They each drop a kiss on the top of your head, and just like that, you watch them slip right through your fingers again.
You do your best to sit there and not feel upset; you try, but the pinch in your heart doesnât go away. Theyâve never been so outwardlyâŠdismissive of you, and youâve had quite enough of it. After a long five minutes of unhappy thoughts swirling around your head, you stand. Youâre not sitting around and letting yourself feel like the second (or third) fiddle.
You blink back the angry tears threatening to fall as you pull on your sweatshirt and search for your phone, only to remember you left it on the bedside table. Youâre not about to barge in on and grab it so you settle with your keys. You wonât be out for too long anyway.
As you leave the apartment, you do your best to close the door behind you as quietly as possible. The crisp fall air clears your mind, and you can think properly about your relationship. You just cannot allow yourself to continue to hurt like this. Theyâre a package deal to you and will come hand-in-hand with you in your life. You may love them, and they may be fond of you, but in the end, youâre just a plus one.Â
The realisation hits you like a ton of bricks, and you clap a hand over your mouth to muffle the sob that escapes. It hurts you deeply, and you donât want it to be true. You want to believe they need you just as much as you need them, although you know the thought is futile.
You shudder as you finally let your sobs calm down, and your heart returns to a normal pace. You canât stay there much longer if you donât want to lose yourself. As you head back to the apartment, you hurriedly wipe your eyes and clear your throat, unwilling for San and Wooyoung to see the state youâre in.
But that proves unnecessaryâwhen you walk back in, San is sitting on the couch, a new movie is on the screen, and Wooyoung is prepping dinner. A quick glance at the clock tells you that youâve been gone for about an hour and a half. Your blood boils as you realise they hardly noticed your disappearance, but you force it back to your gut. Blowing up now would be counter-productive.
Your phone is right where you left it, but as you try to escape, San calls out for you, âOh, YN. Woo and I wanted to askïżœïżœïżœâ Your breath catches in your throat, hoping for something. âDo you want to join us next time?â
It takes all of your willpower not to laugh. âNo, I donât think I will.â Such a tone of mockery had never left your mouth directed at them before, and you snap your mouth shut before you say something else. Sanâs eyebrow rises high into his hairline.
You hear Wooyoung chuckle from the kitchen. âThatâs fine. We have more fun without you anyway.â
And you know, deep down, he didnât mean it maliciously. Wooyoung doesnât have a mean bone in his body. He was just trying to be funny and lighten the mood from the tension he had heard in your voice. But he didnât know he (and San) was the cause of the stress, and all he does is relight the anger in your gut.
âOh, so Iâve realised,â you mutter, and this time, Sanâs other brow raises, and he interrupts.
âWhat do you mean by that?â He moves to cross his arms, and you scoff.
âIâm sure you know damn well what I mean, Choi San. I get it. You guys have been dating forâŠlonger than youâve known me. Itâs understandable you guys sometimes just want to be together without me.â You pause to take a breath, and San looks just about constipated. âButâŠI genuinely cannot remember the last time the three of us went on a date or included me in anything other than just sex. And even that, once in a while. What is the point of me being here?â
âWhy didnât you just talk to us?â Wooyoung asks, having moved from the kitchen to stand in the doorway. His brows are furrowed, and he looks so confused that you almost want to forget your argument. But itâs gone too far already, and words wonât stop pouring out of your mouth.
âYou would rethink your already comfortable relationship for me? Donât be silly.â You cut off Wooyoungâs attempted argument. âMaybe you wouldâve thought about it, but come on. Iâm me. Iâve known you guys for four years; youâve been dating for seven. I asked to join you guys all the damn time, but all I got was getting brushed off. Forgive me for not having the confidence to confront you two.â
You run your hand through your hair, blinking back your tears. âI canât imagine this relationship without you guys, but to you two? Iâm just an afterthought,â you state, shaking your head.
Before your soft heart gets the better of you and you fall to your knees and take it all back, you turn right back out the door, your phone clutched in your hands this time. Wooyoung and San make no move to go after you, and it hurts more than it should.
Youâre not in the mood to walk and wallow, so you sit in the parking garage, ordering a taxi. As you wait for your ride, you hear footsteps thundering up to you, and you know whatâs coming.
âAre you actually leaving?â Sanâs voice comes from behind you, a tightness to it you havenât heard before.
You keep your eyes forward and nod. âYes. I need some time to myself. IâŠI wonât leave forever, at least not for now. I donât want to give us up, but I need time to rest my heart. And you guys need time to process, Iâm sure.â
The taxi you called is pulling up now, and you stand. After hesitating, you turn around and wrap your arms around Sanâs waist. Thereâs no wait on his side; his warm and strong arms come around your shoulders to squeeze you gently. Your eyes are shut tightly, knowing that if you open them, youâll want to go right back up to the apartment.
âTell Wooyoung I said âsorryâ,â you manage to choke out, and you can practically hear Sanâs melancholic smile.
âYou have nothing to apologise for, but I will if it makes you feel better. The only reason he didnât come down is because he didnât want to overwhelm you.â San sighs, running a hand through his hair. âFor whatever itâs worth, Iâm sorry weâve made you feel so alone. It was never our intention, but that doesnât excuse the fact that it happened.â
You sometimes wish San wasnât so sweet and lovely and perfect. And you sure wish Wooyoung didnât feel as strongly as he did. If they cared less, it wouldâve made your hurt and betrayal less sharp in your chest. But you donât want them to be guilty, and you donât want Wooyoung to cry.
âIâŠwonât be gone for long,â is all you have left to say to San before you cram yourself into the taxi, and will your tears to not fall until you get into the safety of your apartment that doesnât even feel like home.
As soon as you reach your apartment, you collapse to your knees and cry. With every sob, your chest heaves and your throat aches. But youâre finally able to let out all your hurt, and after an hour or so, you feel as refreshed as you can be. You hope it will work out in the end for your sake and theirs.
â
You sink into the familiar comfort of your couch, a sigh escaping your lips as the silence of your apartment envelops you. It's been two weeks since the tearful confrontation with San and Wooyoung, two weeks since you've allowed yourself to feel the full weight of your emotions. The initial relief of expressing your pent-up frustrations has given way to a dull ache of longing and uncertainty.
Days turn into nights, and the silence stretches, punctuated only by the occasional text message from San and Wooyoung, their words a mix of apologies, reassurance, and pleas for you to come back. You read and reread their messages, your heart torn between the desire to run back into their arms and the fear of being hurt again.
Yeosang, your closest friend, becomes your lifeline during this time, his presence a comforting anchor amidst the storm of your emotions. He listens patiently as you pour out your doubts and fears, offering his unwavering support and gentle guidance. "They miss you, you know," he often reminds you softly, his eyes reflecting a deep understanding of your inner turmoil.
"I miss them too," you admit, your voice barely a whisper. "But what if it's not enough? What if we can't bridge the gap that's grown between us?"
Yeosang squeezes your hand reassuringly. "You won't know until you try. They're willing to work on things, YN. Don't let your fear rob you of a chance at happiness."
His words echo in your mind, a constant reminder that you can't stay hidden forever. You need to confront your fears, to have that difficult conversation, and to decide whether the love you share is strong enough to overcome the challenges you face.
As the days pass, you find yourself slowly emerging from the cocoon of your self-imposed isolation. You start venturing out, meeting friends for coffee, taking walks in the park, trying to rediscover a sense of normalcy amidst the chaos of your emotions.
But the longing for San and Wooyoung never truly fades. It lingers in the quiet moments, in the empty spaces beside you on the couch, in the memories that flood your mind when you least expect them.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity, you call Yeosang, asking him to meet up with you for coffee so that you can figure out how to approach your relationship with San and Wooyoung. He agrees readily, and promises to set aside some time at lunch tomorrow to hear you out.
âYou miss them, too.â You blink at Yeosangâs statement, before heaving a sigh and taking a sip of your drink. As usual, he doesnât waste time with small talk and just starts with the point of the meet-up. âYouâre putting off this discussion for far too long, YN.â
And heâs right, as he usually is. Itâs been about two weeks since the breakdown, and youâve managed to avoid most attempts at reaching you, placating them with a âsoonâ whenever they text you to ask. But youâre a little too scared to reopen the conversation. What if they hate you and donât want you anymore?
âThey donât hate you,â Yeosang interrupts your spiralling with an all-knowing look. You swear he can read your mind, and he swears youâre just easy to read. âYou both just need to have a long conversation. Of course, it may not work out properly, but if not, they need to know it for future reference.â
You bite your lip, sighing like the weight of the world rests upon your shoulders. âStop being so smart, okay? I know I should. Iâm justâŠI donât know how to start.â
Yeosang raises an eyebrow. âFirst, you should set up a date to talk. I recommend calling them.â He easily dodges your slap. âSeriously, YN. I canât tell you what to say. Just go talk to them properly. Theyâre not gonna be unreasonable. They like you.â
If you sighed anymore, Yeosang would probably smack you himself. âFine. Iâll call them tomorrow.â Yeosang narrows his eyes, and you know heâs seen right through your lie.
âCall them now. I wonât bother you or be loud.â
You start to whine, but Yeosang fixes you with such a glare that you pull out your phone begrudgingly. Your hands tremble as you dial Wooyoung's number, knowing San would probably be at work right now. The phone rings once, twice, and your heart squeezes in hope and disappointment that he hasnât picked up yet.
Youâre just about to hang up when the phone picks up, and Wooyoungâs breathy voice crackles over the receiver. âHello? YN?â He sounds like he just ran a marathon, and you canât help but smile. The sound of his voice on the other end of the line sends a wave of warmth through you, a bittersweet reminder of the love you've been missing.
âHey, Wooyoung. Sorry for never getting back to you guys.â You can already feel the awkwardness and tension through the phone call. âUhâŠwhen are you guys free to talk?â
You can hear the eagerness in Wooyoungâs voice as he responds almost immediately. âDonât apologise, YN, okay? San and I are free tonight after five. Would you like to come round to have dinner? Iâm making spicy pork belly soup. If not, tomorrow evening also works at the same time. If you need more time.â
Heâs one word away from practically begging on his knees, and you feel your heartstrings tug. âYeah, tonight works if thatâs okay. Is six-thirty okay?â
âYes!â Wooyoung has no hesitation when he answers you. âJust come up wheneverâyou know the door code.â
âOkay, thank you again,â you say, seconds from hanging up when his voice cuts through the phone.
âYN. For what itâs worth, Iâm sorry. And Iâll see you tonight.â
He ends the call before you can say anything else, and youâre left staring at the phone longingly. Yeosangâs chuckle brings you out of your thoughts. âTold you they donât hate you,â he hums, a small smile on his lips, and you roll your eyes at him even though your heart warms.
âShould I bring a gift? Like wine or something? I donât knowâŠtheyâre feeding me. And it could be a peace offering.â
Yeosang laughs again, amused by your dilemma. âIf you want to, it could be a nice gesture. But really, I think they just want to see you again.â He reaches over to you to squeeze your hand. âYou guys will be just fine, okay?â
You nod, offering him your own crooked smile. âThanks for sitting and talking, Sang. I appreciate it.â Your eyes dart to the side. âI should probably go see if I can find a proper bottle of wine, though.â
-
The bottle of wine in your hands is clutched so tightly you fear it may shatter in your sweaty grasp. Youâre almost too scared to knock, but your longing to see your boyfriends (were they still your boyfriends?) overrides your fear, and you tap on the door lightly. It might be presumptuous to just walk in, even though Wooyoung told you they didnât change the door code. Youâve done it many times before, but these circumstances are different.
Before you can chicken out and call it off, the door swings open, and San stands before you, his hair messy like it always ends when he tries to style it without help. Your fingers twitch as you keep yourself from reaching up to smooth it over. â...Hi,â you greet him instead, eyes flitting down to your hands. âI brought wine.â
âThanks. Come on in. Wooyoungâs finishing up now.â
He steps aside, and you pass him, trying not to flinch as his comforting scent fills your brain. Oh, how you missed him and Wooyoung. The apartment is unchanged, and a picture of the three of you is still hung on the wall. âI hope youâve been well?â
âYea. Iâve been keeping busy.â San closes the door behind you, running a hand through his messy hair, which only serves to worsen it. âHow about you?â
You shrug as casually as you can. âIâm doing well. Just been workingâŠâ Thereâs a long pause where neither of you knows what to do. âDo you need help with anything? Where do you want me to put the wine?â
San shrugs. âThereâs not much to do. The table has already been set. Do you want to wash up or anything? I can pour the wine.â
You nod, handing over the bottle, being careful to avoid Sanâs touch before excusing yourself to the bathroom. You can practically hear the disappointed sigh leaving Sanâs mouth and you feel a sharp stab in your heart at how upset he seems to be but you remind yourself this is important. As Yeosang said, they have to be aware of what issues youâre having.
You glance at your weary face in the mirror, wiping at some smudged makeup and fixing your hair, taking any moment you can get to calm yourself down. When you can hear low murmurs in the kitchen of San and Wooyoung talking you know itâs about time for you to get out of the bathroom.
When you turn the corner into the kitchen, Wooyoung greets you with a tentative smile and a wake of his spatula. âHey, YN. Hope youâre doing well. AreâŠare you hungry? Itâs almost done.â Wooyoung speaks carefully like heâs triple-checking the words he wants to say before they come out of his mouth.
âOf course,â you laugh awkwardly. âYour food is always good. I hope youâre doing well too.â
Itâs almost painful how tense the atmosphere is, and both you and Wooyoung cast a glance at San as if pleading silently for him to resolve it for you two. Before any of you guys can speak, the rice cooker beeps, slicing the thick stress in half and all three of you laugh. âLetâs eat,â San cheers, his eyes crinkling in the smile you missed.
The three of you move towards the seats, where three glasses of wine sit and side dishes are scattered around. Wooyoung holds the stew in his hands, setting it down in the middle of the table as you and San take your seats.
The dinner is mostly silent, aside from a couple of hums in delight at the taste of Wooyoungâs cooking. As much as you would deny it, you missed this. You missed being near them, being able to share the same space with them. As the three of you eat, you sneak glances at both San and Wooyoung. Aside from the tousled hair, San seems pretty put-together, with an easygoing smile on his face and dimples still prominent. But the dullness in his eyes is clear and he smiles and giggles way less than usual. Wooyoungâs face is lined with worry, hints of stubble peeking out, and youâre embarrassed to admit you find it attractive. His hands fiddle with his silverware as he eats, and the guilt returns to eat at your stomach.
âSoâŠâ you try and break the silence carefully, and both menâs eyes quickly focus on you. â...my brotherâs boyfriend adopted a cat secretly and Hongjoong is livid, but I caught him cuddling with the cat just two days ago.â
San chuckles. âSounds about right. Seonghwa definitely seems the type to. What, did he find the cat on the side of the road and âjust couldnât let it starve out thereâ?â You snort at Sanâs imitation of your brother.
âAlmost spot on. Itâs like Seonghwa is sitting right here, really.â
And with that, the conversation continues almost completely normally, like nothing had happened two weeks prior. Wooyoung prods at Sanâs cooking like always and you defend San but canât help but throw in a jab of your own, one that San reaches over and pushes gently at your shoulder for.
At the touch, you freeze and Wooyoungâs eyes dart between the two of you. A long moment passes until you finally laugh stiffly and push him back. âWhat can I say? Itâs true.â
Wooyoung smiles at the both of you, the corner of his lips crooked. âGood to see you take his side as always when it comes to cooking,â he teases. âMaybe Iâll make him cook next time.â
Next time. Your breath catches at those words and both San and Wooyoung take note of your hopeful reaction. âIâll hold you to that.â
-
After dinner, all of you shuffle into the living room slowly, knowing exactly what must come. None of you want to start the conversation, but it must happen. You sit first, hands wringing in your lap. San and Wooyoung sit right next to each other, but not far from you.
âWe could draw straws?â Wooyoung speaks up, his hands gripping the couch beside him. âTo see who goes first.â
You donât quite know how to react, but unlike the last time Wooyoung tried to be silly, you understand it isnât coming from a place of malice. âI think thatâs a great idea, Wooyoung,â both you and San agree, and although Wooyoungâs body tenses a tad more, his eyes soften.
âThanks.â
With shaking hands, you hold out the straws Wooyoung had given you. Both San and Wooyoung draw, keeping their pick hidden until you pick yours. Long. San uncurls his hand and reveals his. Long.
Your gaze shifts to Wooyoung who looks just about ready to throw up at the prospect of going first. âOf course itâs me,â he laughs soullessly. âI suggested it, so I end up being first.â
âIf youâre not comfortableââ
Wooyoung stops San with a quick squeeze of his hand. âNo, itâs okay. I have a lot to say.â Without further ado, he turns to face you, his eyes pleading and his brows furrowed. âYN, Iâm sorry. I was inconsiderate of you in the relationship, and although I meant no harm, I hurt you when I commented on âhaving more fun without youâ. Although I tried to keep tension low, it only served to hurt you and I apologise for that. I shouldâve been more attentive to you and considered how you may have felt when San and I went off to do our own thing without you.â
You feel a wave of relief wash over you, your heart warming at his heartfelt apology. âI really appreciate that, Wooyoung,â you hum. âI missed you a lot, and after a couple days of cooling down, I realised you meant no harm, and I couldâve told you how I felt about that with more maturity. IâŠI hope you donât mind if I go next.â
San waves his hand, gesturing for you to go on. âOf course,â he agrees readily, squeezing Wooyoungâs hand gently.
âIâm sure myâŠcomplaintsâŠabout our dynamic were pretty clear. I felt left out, excluded, and separated from the two of you. And what I was feeling was valid, but my reaction wasnât. I am sorry about how I went about talking to you guys. I assumed you wouldnât care, and so I kept it to myself and let it boil over. And just running out on you guys was unfair of me. I didnât explain, nor give you guys a chance to explain.â
San nods empathetically. âI was indeed hurt by your immediate assumption that we wouldnât care. I thought it was clear we care about youâI mean, we did watch that show together and we asked if you wanted to join us next time. If you were really feeling hurt, I do wish you brought it up sooner.â
You sigh, looking down at your twisting hands, bringing one of them up to your mouth to chew lightly on the nail. âLike I said way back, I was insecure about the two of you changing your relationship dynamic just because I wanted it. Maybe it was stupid, I donât know, but the hurt I felt wasnât stupid. Sure, we watched the show, and sure, you asked me if I wanted to join next time. But that was it! I was an afterthought. You dismissed me when I said I wanted to join, and yet you asked me why I didnât bring it up before?â
Before you can sink your teeth any further into your nail, Wooyoung leans forward, gently pulling your hand away from your mouth and bringing it to his lap. âDonât bite your nails, YN. Iâm sure San didnât mean to be dismissive,â he pleads, elbowing San lightly in the ribs, who winces and nods sincerely. âIâm sure you understand, we were just hurt you didnât trust us enough, although your reasons are understandable. We want to make things right, though, and we want you to be comfortable to talk to us about your insecurities and worries.â
âYeah, I didnât mean to be so defensive,â San concedes. âI got too caught up in wanting everyone to get along, I got ahead of myself. I pride myself on being the calm one, but I was too passive and that quickly turned into self-righteousness.â His hand moves to rest atop yours and Wooyoungâs, his thumb gently rubbing circles into the soft skin.
âWe still want you with us, YN,â Wooyoung cuts in, âand we want to change for you. We talked about this when you were gone, and weâll respect your decision to leave if you so wish, but we really would like to try and work this through.â
You pause for a moment. You could walk away right now, minimizing any potential hurt that could follow. But as your eyes land on your conjoined hands, any minute wish to leave is immediately squashed and you smile up at the two of them. âI want to stay too.â
San matches your smile and Wooyoungâs grip on your hand tightens almost imperceptibly. Before anything else happens, he pulls you forward, wrapping his other arm around your shoulders as he engulfs you in a warm hug. Without hesitation, San quickly joins, pressing a kiss to the top of both your and Wooyoungâs head.
As they murmur promises of how they can include you more, as well as soft âI love youâs in your ear, you canât help but relax at their showcase of love. Things will turn out all right.
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Genre-Fluid Branch XD The idea for the lore behind this one... well, or idea for another AU XD everyone keeps doing the 'Branch gets adopted by other tribe', but what if he wasn't a young trolling when that happened?
The scenes from the first movie- played for comedic gag- where he kept interrupting events to scream about Bergens- ended with him overthrowing coffin at a funeral, and I image even for Pop Trolls, that would be kind of like the last straw- especially for the grieving widow
After calming down from his panic attack, I imagine even his most stalwart defender at the time (Poppy and to some extent Peppy) would be at loss what to do and what to say to smooth this mess over, and Branch himself would probably feel pretty horrified and horrible
Now feeling most ostracized than ever, I can just imagine him having quite the bout of absolute self-loathing, and coming to conviction that he is very much not welcome among his tribe- especially if he overhears trolls discussing him as if he was the worst thing to ever the walk the earth
Miserable, unhappy and very very lonely, he could be prime for breaking point- where instead of staying in his bunker and embracing the half-forgotten promise of his brothers returning, he chucks all that aside, packs his bags and decides to leave the Troll Village for good. (And perhaps in hopes to find his missing brothers himself, if only to get that part of closure)
After all, it's not like anyone would miss him. (He is wrong of course)
Time wise, set probably roughly 3 or 4 years before the events of the 1st movie, and thus Branch is a very young troll who probably just got into his 20s
Of course, his travels will bring him far and wide, eventually meeting all of the tribes (each offering a different perspective on life), allowing him to heal with help his own tribe cant provide
He would eventually head back to troll village- if only to get few sentimental things from his bunker that he left behind in his hurry to run away- just in time to see the mess of the 20th anniversay escape party
Lets's call this.... Wanderer!Branch AU?
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