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chosok-amo · 3 months ago

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SLIPPING THROUGH MY FINGERS: GOJO SATORU, GETO SUGURU

“suguru, help!” he sounds, pathetic. gojo satoru is a pathetic man when it comes to you. “ . . . there are so many kisses to have, soul and bone for you to crash and swear that how stars are born, so please. . ., believe me, you have to believe me,” he cries, holding your hands, begging for you to love him— love him enough to stay.

warning : age-up! satosugu, depressed! fem x reader, drug mention, trauma mention, suicide, self-harm, death mention, drowning, blood, heavy angst.

w/c : 6,2k | [☆] MASTERLIST

𝜗𝜚 . . . . i had to stop so often writing this because i can't stop crying and think that i shouldn't continue because it hurts me so bad that i have to take a cold shower and think about my life. and honestly, i wasn't supposed to write the last part but yeah..

A MINUTES AFTER YOU TRY TO KILL YOURSELF

it was too quiet. . .

gojo satoru never screams so loud in his entire life, so loud. . . the world shaking beneath his feet, ready to swallow him whole and rotten. so loud . . . he sure he can no longer hear. he ran, slipping on his way until he broke his knee on the puddle of the red, transparent liquid that spill from the bath-up.

the starling sigh, you were there. . .

“no, no, no, baby— no.”

the water, tinged with a haunting crimson, surged and overflowed, cascading into the bathroom with relentless force. it climbed steadily up gojo's legs, as if the liquid itself sought to ensnare him, to drag him down into its suffocating embrace, or just. . . mock him.

a dark mockery that seemed to whisper that it alone held the power to drown him, to swallow your trembling breaths and the last echoes of your voice. it wasn’t him, or geto suguru who was to be your executioner, but the merciless water, eager to claim your final, stutter breath.

“i-i —sorry, i’m sorry..” you stammered.

your voice stammered between choke, barely a murmur beneath the frothy waves, struggled to be heard amidst the tumult. your eyes, devoid of warmth, reflected a chilling detachment. the coldness in your gaze was almost tangible, a stark contrast to the chaotic, drowning world around you.

“suguru, help!” he sounds, pathetic.

gojo, even on the verge of your death is still so gentle, as if he's afraid you are going to die than you already are. dropping on his knees as he tries to pull your warm bodies out of the bath-up.

gojo shook his head, a soft whisper escaping from his trembling lips, “shhh, it's alright baby, it's alright, you're alright,” his mumble, each word a fragile promise against the storm of his own emotions— words and voice shaking, his bones and soul shivering. his strong arm wraps around your body, pulling you closer to his chest, feeling everything, even as his flesh trembling.

tears cascaded from the corner of your eyes, tracing silken paths down your skin, while his embrace, though trembling, sought to cradle and calm you, a sanctuary against the turbulence of your anguish.

“suguru, please help!” again, this time he shouted.

geto runs upon hearing the horror howling, and his purple irises about to peel from his face and his lungs lose air— ragged gasps, as if each inhale were stolen from him. the scene before him struck with a painful clarity: you nestled within gojo’s embrace, your body wracked with distress.

foaming at the mouth, you appeared trapped in a tormenting grip of anguish, while the open scars on your wrist bled stories of suffering and desperation. in that moment, the sight was both heart-wrenching and surreal, a vivid tableau of fear and pain, painted across the canvas of his deepest fears.

“i'm sorry— i-i'm so sorry,” you whisper between choking gasps as geto kneels beside you and your body shaking. tears cascade uncontrollably, each dropping a shimmering testament to a sudden, overwhelming regret. it is as though a profound realization has swept over you, too late to mend the wounds that have been inflicted.

the regret feels like a bitter aftertaste of the sorrow you can no longer escape. the eyes of those around you, trembling with the weight of their own anguish, are bloodshot and haunting, mirroring the crimson that flows from your wrist. in that agonizing moment, the world feels irrevocably broken, and the fleeting desire to be alive seems like a distant, unreachable dream.

they burst from the bathroom, gojo's arms wrapped tightly around you as he dashes through the chaos. your lifeless feet and hands dangle, a heavy, haunting reminder of the blood seeping steadily onto the floor. each drop forms a macabre trail, like the relentless shadow of death that clings to you, a grim companion refusing to let go.

the crimson stains splatter and pool in your wake, an anguished testament to the finality that now seems inevitable— each red stain on the ground is a haunting reminder, a stark declaration. as they run, the blood's mournful descent weaves a sorrowful narrative of moments slipping away, each drop a poignant echo of what might have been, a stark and unyielding declaration that time has run out, that it is too late.

and suddenly, everything feels like a slow motion.

6 HOUR AFTER YOU TRY TO KILL YOURSELF

the doctor spoke with a grave tone, his words laced with concern. “it appears,” he began, looking at gojo who's just sitting there with his eyes focusing on the floor, meanwhile geto standing beside him. “that she intentionally tried to overdose. we've had to act swiftly to pump the substances from her body, working to counteract the severe effects of her actions.”

geto's hand gently gripping on gojo's shoulder as they listen. his expression was one of solemn seriousness, reflecting the urgency and gravity of the situation. “we've done everything we can to stabilize her, but it's crucial that you two understand the seriousness of what she has done. this was a life-threatening situation, and we're only beginning to address the underlying issues that led to this crisis.”

the doctor continued, his voice carrying a mix of relief and concern. “fortunately, the cut on her wrist wasn't too deep,” he said, his eyes scanning the notes before them. “it seems that the severity of the injury was somewhat mitigated by her weakened state from the drugs. if she had been stronger, the outcome might have been different.”

his tone softened, acknowledging the fragile balance between the danger of the overdose and the mitigating effects of your physical condition. “we've managed to address the immediate threats, but it's crucial to understand that this is a serious wake-up call. we need to work on her recovery and the emotional struggles that led to this moment.”

if she had been stronger, the outcome might have been different,’ the words echoed repeatedly, hauntingly through the air, like a broken record stuck on a painful refrain. once, twice, three times, they reverberated through their minds, each repetition a stark reminder of how close they came to losing you, how dangerously close the edge of despair was.

even the notion of ‘almost’ carried a weight too immense to bear, a heavy presence that pressed down on their hearts. the silence that followed was thick with unspoken guilt and anguish; none of them could find the words to bridge the chasm of their shared grief. they avoided each other's gaze, unable to escape the silent blame that hung heavy between them, a suffocating testament to their collective sense of failure.

gojo stared at his hands through the thin veil of his blindfold, his fingers trembling as they traced the dried blood staining his pale skin. the sight of it was a brutal reminder of you. with a strained effort, he clenched his hands tightly, hoping to meld the dried blood with his own, as if to erase the haunting evidence of what had transpired— his last hope trying to be with you.

each breath felt like a desperate gasp, a small gap forming between his lips as he struggled to draw in air. the sensation of suffocation gripped him, a relentless pressure squeezing his chest, making each inhale a battle. despite his efforts, the air seemed insufficient, leaving him feeling as though he were on the precipice of life, teetering on the brink of an abyss that threatened to swallow him whole.

geto felt an overwhelming tide of guilt and anguish, a heavy weight pressing down on his heart. the scene that unfolded before him replayed in his mind like a relentless, agonizing loop, hunting him down like he is some kind of a fucking prey. he was haunted by the sight of your suffering, the image of your blood-streaked hands and the anguished cries that pierced the air. each moment of his own reflection, seeing the remnants of your blood on his skin and his white shirt, deepened his torment.

the sense of responsibility gnawed at him, a constant reminder of how close he came to losing you. he felt suffocated by a profound sorrow and helplessness, as if the very air around him was too thick, leaving him gasping for breath— like the death itself pointing its ugly fucking finger to his face and laugh at him, at them.

what a fucking pathetic man’ the death must be said.

the weight of the situation settled heavily on his shoulders, and the silence between him and his companions only amplified his inner turmoil. the unspoken blame and the aching realization that he couldn't undo what had happened created a chasm of despair within him, making each moment feel like an eternity of unbearable remorse.

both of them are buried in profound sea of grief, guilt, shame because a thousand moments with you that they take for granted— shame, for thinking, assume that there would be a thousand more. is it too selfish to be here?’ they thought.

that curse must be laughing at them, the higher-ups, everyone— pointing their finger from all directions. look at them, ’ they thought, those two who called themselves the strongest can even save a single soul,’ again they must be laughing, let alone a soul who is to be called the love of their life.

but nobody knows, none, not even a single soul that, oh, how your presence evokes such selflessness in them— even amid their silent, tormented reflections. they are consumed by an incessant questioning of the selfishness of their own sorrow, wondering if it is wrong to cling to their grief while you teeter on the precipice of loss.

the haunting thought persists, a cruel reminder of time's fragile nature and the profound depth of their remorse. in their heartache, they are acutely aware of the contrast between their own suffering and the delicate balance of your existence, each moment of their anguish a poignant testament to the sorrow they feel for having taken so much for granted.

is it okay to feel sad? ’ they thought.

even the very sensation of sadness and grief feels like an indulgence they do not deserve. i can't even protect her, what rights do i fucking deserve to be sad?’ they thought. to them, these emotions seem an opulent luxury, an extravagant gift they are not entitled to. in their hearts, the depth of their sorrow feels almost excessive, a poignant reminder of how their suffering pales in comparison to the magnitude of the almost loss they face.

each wave of grief feels like a grand, unwelcome opulence, an unjust reward for the pain they have caused and the moments they have squandered. the luxury of their sadness seems a cruel irony, a stark contrast to the profound emptiness of the reality they must now confront.

people passing by in front of them, throwing them a glance or two. seeing their red eyes and tears-stain cheeks, blood in their hands, in shirts, in pants, in their soul, laid bare. everyone wants to give them both a pat on the back, telling them that they are good at handling grief; howling, crying, and blaming each other. that's the proper way to handle grief.

18 HOUR AFTER YOU TRY TO KILL YOURSELF

your hands are warm, a stark contrast to the pallor of your pink lips, which have lost their vibrant hue, your eyes open still so retain their gentle softness, a quiet testament to the grace you still hold.

as you lie upon the hospital bed, draped in the drab, floral-patterned gown that clings to you, it feels woefully inadequate. the gown, mundane and worn, seems too insipid and shabby to encompass your beauty, too faded and forlorn.

“i'm sorry. . .” you mumble.

you can’t bring yourself to look at them as they sit beside your bed, their eyes red and swollen from sleepless nights, their uniforms crumpled and disheveled, their hair falling in untamed disarray. their faces have lost their vibrant hue, a stark contrast to their usual vitality.

gojo satoru’s once-brilliant blue eyes, which used to shimmer with an unyielding light, now seem dull and lifeless, even when the golden sunlight spills over them. the sunlight, which once might have enhanced the beauty of his gaze with its warm orange tones, now only serves to highlight the emptiness that has replaced his once-sparkling eyes— it's dull, it's dull, it is fucking dull.

geto suguru's strikingly handsome face is graced with a smile, tender and achingly gentle, as though he is pouring all his effort into offering you a sliver of solace. his lips tremble with a subtle quiver, betraying the deep sadness that lingers beneath his calm exterior. his once-vibrant purple irises have dimmed, their former brilliance faded to a shadow of their former selves.

you fear that they might darken further, losing their hue altogether, slipping into a void of despair where even color seems to vanish. the sight of his sorrowful eyes, so devoid of their usual spark, reflects a profound sadness that pierces the heart, a silent testament to the emotional toll of the moment.

oh, what i have done. . .’ you thought.

“don't, please don't,” gojo pleads, his voice trembling as he clasps your unharmed hand with a desperate grip. his blindfold has been removed, revealing eyes that are filled with raw, unfiltered emotion as he gazes at you. beside him, geto's hand rests gently at the back of your head, his touch tender and soothing. he caresses your hair with a featherlight motion, his thumb brushing softly over your scalp.

“we are so sorry for taking you for granted,” he murmurs, the words heavy with regret and sorrow. “we are sorry for offering you only a lukewarm love, when you deserved a love that was fierce and all-consuming, a love that burned brightly and fiercely. i'm sorry,” his voice wavers, each word an echo of their deep remorse, as they both grapple with the weight of their unspoken apologies and the profound realization of what they failed to give you.

they do not seek to question why your soul bleeds, nor do they dare to unravel the dark tapestry of your pain. the blood, flowing with a steady, silent, and disturbingly deliberate pace, engulfs you in its relentless embrace. it seeps into every corner of your being, a somber tide that threatens to consume you entirely.

they find themselves unable to confront this harrowing reality, their hearts too burdened to bear the weight of such a painful inquiry. the sight of your suffering leaves them paralyzed, unable to utter the questions that linger in their minds, as they grapple with the profound helplessness of watching you slowly succumb to the encroaching shadows.

“i love you, baby,” gojo whispers, “i'm sorry that you're in so much pain so to think death is the only salvation,” he stopped for a second, cocooning your hand with his large one before resting his cheek against. “i'm sorry i didn't notice your rage for the world and too busy loving you. does my love scare you, love? that's why you decided to leave, hm?” his voice shaking, lips quivering.

“if you are angry, stab me a little so you can feel better, make it hurt, i don't care. a little suffering would be worth it if it's by your hands, by your pretty little hands,” he murmured against your skin, his breath a warm whisper that sent shivers across your body. each word was a soft plea, wrapped in a tone that trembled with both desperation and tenderness.

his trembling lips pressed gently against your hand, each kissing a fleeting starburst of warmth against your cool skin. him— no they, stood ready to endure your pain, inviting you to inflict upon them the hurt you felt.

they stand poised to let you sink your teeth into them, to delve into their very flesh. to let you open them up, laid bare and vulnerable, just to offer you a chance to heal. just so they can love you a little too much, starving even— like a flesh begging to be knitting together over a wound. ruin me, ruin us, and we will let you.

“i love you, i love you, i love you,” he gave you stars in each between. they fucking love you like a rotten dog. “believe me when i said this. . . there are so many kisses to have, soul and bone for you to crash and swear that how stars are born, so please. . ., believe me, you have to believe me,” he cries, holding your hands, begging for you to love him— love him enough to stay, “we love you.”

he finally said we’ geto thought.

at first glance, people might assume that geto suguru’s love for you surpasses that of gojo satoru, that his love is somehow greater. yet, the truth remains that it has always been gojo satoru who harbors the most profound and boundless love for you from the very beginning. his love is vast, immense, and utterly astonishing, stretching beyond the horizons of understanding.

gojo’s devotion is a vast expanse, a love so deep and wide that it seems to defy the very limits of emotion. even geto suguru, who himself is capable of immense love, finds himself awestruck and somewhat intimidated by the sheer magnitude of gojo’s feelings. no one can truly grasp the depth of gojo’s love—not even gojo himself—such is the overwhelming, almost incomprehensible nature of his heart’s boundless devotion to you.

and sometimes it scares the shit out of geto.

but maybe, just maybe, they have a little too much love for you more than for each other, even more than for themselves— as if you make a space in their ribs, and call it home country.

30 HOUR AFTER YOU TRY TO KILL YOURSELF

geto stirred from a restless sleep, his head resting gently against your hospital bed, nestled close to your side. as he slowly opened his eyes, he was met with the soft, gentle sight of you gazing at him, a faint, tender smile gracing your lips. the serene moment, bathed in the quiet of the hospital room, brought a flicker of warmth to his weary heart, a small but profound comfort amid the lingering shadows of their shared sorrow.

“hey sunshine,” geto whispered in a hoarse croak, reaching a hand to brush your hair away from your face, “how long have you been awake?”

“long enough to notice the dark circles under your eyes and the tear stains on your cheeks,” you replied softly, your fingers brushing gently against his cheek, your thumb tenderly caressing the worn skin. geto hummed, his hand capturing yours and guiding your palm to his lips, where he planted a gentle kiss.

the touch of your skin was like a salve, soothing the ache in his weary soul. he chuckled weakly. his eyes were tired and his skin pale, but your touch made him feel alive. “you’re too observant for your own good,” he teased, his lips curving into a weary smile.

geto shifted in his chair, wincing slightly as his body protested the movement. he settled into a more comfortable position, still holding your hand in his, his thumb tracing soothing circles on the back of your knuckles.

he studied your face, taking in every detail, from the delicate flutter of your eyelashes to the subtle flush in your cheeks. the sight of you, even in this vulnerable state, filled his heart with a mixture of tenderness and protectiveness.

“how are you feeling?” he asked, his voice low and gentle, his gaze fixed on your face. he knew it was a question he had asked before, but he couldn’t help himself. he needed to hear you speak, hear your voice, just to reassure himself that you were still with him.

“like shit,” you answer.

your hand is still gently cupping his cheek, thumb running low across his skin in a loving manner. at your blunt response, geto's lip curled into a soft smile. even in your weakened state, you still had a defiant spark.

he leaned into your touch, his eyes closing briefly as he savored the sensation. “i thought we agreed no profanity,” he teased, his voice laced with affectionate humor, opening his eyes to meet your gaze. he turned his head slightly, his lips brushing against the palm of your hand in a tender kiss.

“you’ve always been a bad influence on me,” he murmured against your skin, his breath warm and ticklish. he chuckled softly, his eyes softening as he studied your face.

he took a moment to compose his words, his expression growing serious. “there was a moment,” he began, his voice a hoarse whisper, “a moment when i thought i lost you.”

your smile faltered, and your eyes softened with concern as you listened to the gravity in his voice. you reached up to gently touch his cheek again, your thumb brushing away the remnants of his sadness.

“i’m here now,” you whispered, your voice steady but filled with warmth. “you haven’t lost me.” you looked deeply into his eyes, trying to convey with your gaze the depth of your presence and the promise of your unwavering support. “and i’m not going anywhere,” you added softly, hoping to soothe the lingering fear in his heart.

his hand covers yours, holding it against his cheek as he closes his eyes, relishing in your soothing touch. for a moment, he just allows himself to bask in your presence, letting the warmth and comfort wash over him.

“i was afraid i wouldn’t get to hear you say that,” he murmured, his voice growing thicker with emotion. he opened his eyes, the raw vulnerability in his gaze bared to you, his heart laid bare.

your heart ached at the sight of his vulnerability. you gently squeezed his hand, your voice trembling with sincerity as you spoke. “i’m so sorry,” you said softly, your eyes filled with compassion.

geto’s thumb traced gentle, small circles on the back of your hand. “you have nothing to apologize for,” he assured you, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. “it was my responsibility to keep you safe, and i failed.”

the guilt and regret in his voice were palpable, the weight of his self-imposed responsibility clear. he lowered his gaze, wrestling with emotions that were etched deeply into every line of his weary face.

he lifted your hand from his cheek, bringing it to his lips and pressing a lingering kiss against your knuckles, his gaze never leaving yours. “i just need you to know how much you mean to me,” he added, his voice cracking slightly. his grip on your hand tightened, as if he was holding onto you for dear life.

geto’s lips continued to brush against your knuckles as he spoke, soft and gentle. his eyes held yours captive, the depth of his affection bared for you to see.

“you are my everything,” he confessed, his voice hoarse with the weight of his honesty. “the thought of losing you, of living in a world where you don’t exist…” he trailed off, a pained expression crossing his features. he was torn between the love that engulfed his heart and the fear that threatened to consume him.

geto drew in a shaky breath, composing himself as best he could. he lifted his gaze from your hand, meeting your eyes once again. his expression held a mixture of love and devotion, but also a hint of desperation.

“i need you to know that no matter what, i will do everything in my power to protect you,” he vowed, his voice steady despite the turbulent emotions raging within him. “not just because it’s my duty, but because i love you more than i thought it was possible to love someone.”

you met his gaze with a warm, reassuring smile, the depth of your gratitude shining through. “thank you,” you said softly, your voice imbued with genuine appreciation. your smile was a reflection of the profound comfort and reassurance you felt, a silent promise to stand together through whatever lay ahead.

geto’s eyes softened at your smile, a flicker of relief passing over his weary face. he squeezed your hand gently, his touch both appreciative and protective.

he studied your face for a moment, his gaze lingering on each contour, each freckle and line, as if to further commit them to memory. “don’t scare me like that again,” he murmured, mostly in jest, but with an underlying current of seriousness.

gojo entered the room, his expression a mix of relief and lingering concern as he carried a bag of your belongings. upon seeing the tender moment between you and geto, his eyes softened, though they carried a hint of the exhaustion and worry that had shadowed him. he set the bag down and approached, took a sit at the edge on the other side of your bed, his voice catching slightly as he spoke.

“don’t scare me like that again too,” he said, his tone gentle but tinged with the weight of his emotions. his gaze met yours with a blend of earnestness and relief. “i know suguru’s been holding on tight, but i’ve been right here, too. seeing you like this... it’s been hard on all of us. please, don't leave us.” his words were a heartfelt plea, an echo of the concern and love he carried for you, a testament to the depth of his feelings and the strength of his devotion.

geto’s grip on your hand tightened momentarily at the sound of gojo’s voice, his eyes darting towards his best friend. he could hear the exhaustion and worry that laced gojo’s words and knew all-too-well the weight of the responsibility they shared.

he turned his gaze back to you, his expression a mix of worry and relief. his thumb resumed its gentle, soothing circles on the back of your hand. “yeah,” he said in agreement, his voice gruff with emotion. “please, don’t scare us like that again.”

gojo’s presence brought with it a sense of familiarity, a comfort that was both grounding and reassuring. he reached out and placed a gentle hand on your arm, his touch a silent expression of his affection and concern.

he studied your face, his eyes tracing every contour, every line, as if to commit the sight to memory. “how are you feeling?” he asked, his voice softer now, though still tinged with worry. “i wanna say like shit but suguru said no profanity,” you puff a little chuckle.

geto gives a little scoff at your comment, his expression laced with a mixture of annoyance and affection. he rolls his eyes playfully and mutters, “you’re such a bad influence.”

gojo’s lips curled into a small smirk before he turned his gaze back to you, the lines around his eyes creasing with a mix of amusement and relief. “can’t have you talking like that,” he teased, his words light but carrying a hint of genuine concern.

gojo studying your face carefully before speaking ever so softly, “well, apart from the obviously crappy mood geto’s been in, you look good. your color is better.” he noticed a faint crimson crushed on your cheeks, a little pink on your lips.

he reached his hand out to smooth a strand of hair away from your forehead, his touch light and tender. his gaze wandered from your face to where geto still held your hand, his eyes reflecting a subtle hint of appreciation.

geto watched gojo's gentle touch, his grip on your hand unconsciously tightening a little bit in response. his expression was a mixture of protectiveness and vulnerability, his eyes betraying the fear and worry that still tugged at his heart.

he took the moment to observe the soft interplay of emotions between you and gojo, the easy familiarity and the deep bond that existed between you all. he could sense the weight of gojo's concern as he studied your face, the care and attention in his touch.

gojo's voice was soft as he continued, his gaze still fixed on your face. “so, how are you feeling, for real?” he asked, his tone a gentle echo of geto's earlier question. “any pain? any discomfort?”

geto looked at you, his eyes silently pleading for you to be honest. he was hanging off your every word, each response a small insight into your well-being.

you took a deep breath, feeling the weight of their concern pressing down on you. meeting gojo’s gentle gaze and then turning to geto’s silent plea, you spoke with a mixture of remorse and honesty. “i’m sorry,” you began, your voice trembling slightly. “i’m sorry for how i handled things. i know i should have talked to you both, but i didn’t—i tried to take matters into my own hands without thinking it through first.”

your eyes reflected a deep sense of shame and regret as you continued. “i actually feel like absolute shit right now, and i’m ashamed of myself for thinking i could find a quick solution without considering the impact it would have on you both.” you looked at them, hoping your words conveyed the depth of your remorse and the sincerity of your apology, wanting them to understand that your actions were not a reflection of your feelings for them, but rather a moment of misguided desperation.

gojo's expression softened with understanding, his eyes filled with compassion. he knew the weight of your words, the regret and shame that clung to them. he reached his hand back to your arm, his touch gentle and reassuring.

geto's gaze was a mix of surprise and relief as he processed your apology. his hand around yours tightened slightly, his thumb tracing reassuring circles on your skin. “it's okay,” he said, his voice hoarse with emotion. “we all have moments of weakness. what matters is that you're here, safe and alive.”

you felt a wave of gratitude wash over you at their responses, their understanding and compassion a balm to your wounded spirit. “thank you,” you said softly, your voice thick with emotion. “thank you for not being angry with me and for not questioning me right away. i know i made a terrible mistake, and i’m grateful you’re here, supporting me instead of condemning me.”

geto's grip on your hand tightened slightly, his eyes filled with a complex mixture of emotions— relief, love, and a hint of lingering fear. he shook his head gently, a reassuring smile on his lips.

gojo chuckled softly, his eyes filled with a mixture of compassion and playfulness. “we can save the anger and lecturing for when you’re not looking so terrible,” he joked, a wry smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “and trust me, baby, i had a lot of choice colorful words for you when the right time comes,” he lean in to kiss your forehead, “but right now, we just trying to be here for you.”

geto nodded in agreement, his grip on your hand still tight. he couldn’t help but roll his eyes a bit at gojo's playfulness, but there was a hint of fondness beneath the feigned annoyance.

he leaned in, reaching out with his other hand to gently brush a strand of hair off your forehead. “you are a stubborn, reckless, and stubborn pain in the ass,” he scolded lightly, his tone a soft but affectionate mix.

gojo chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners with humor. he settled himself closer, his hand still resting lightly on your arm. “he's right, you know,” he chimed in, his smile wide. “you're very good at pushing our buttons and getting under our skin.”

geto's lips curled into a small smile, his expression a mixture of feigned anger and affection. “and you're even better at making us worry,” he added, his tone light but underlined with the gravity of their concern. “but we care about you more than anything,” he added, his gaze softening as he looked at you. “so you better not do something like that again, you hear me?” his voice held a hint of authority, but mostly it was filled with love and concern.

geto's smile grew a bit wider, his eyes crinkling endearingly at the corners. “yeah,” he said, his voice firm. “you better listen. we don’t need anymore of these near-death experiences from you.”

gojo chimed in enthusiastically, leaning in a bit closer. “yeah, cause let me tell you, i can’t handle any more gray hairs than i already have.”

geto's grip on your hand tightened again, his expression a mix of sternness and vulnerability. he looked at you intently, his gaze locking with yours. “he's right,” he echoed, his voice firm but filled with warmth and care. “no more reckless decisions. no more putting yourself in danger. you hear us, my love?”

gojo nodded in agreement, his expression serious but eyes softened with concern. he added, “yeah, we can't keep having our hearts in our throats like this. it's not good for our health, you know.” geto's hand caressed your arm gently, a silent plea for your understanding. “we just want you safe and sound. that’s all we ask.”

a hint of vulnerability flashed across geto's face, his expression betraying the weight of his words. he locked eyes with you, his gaze filled with a mixture of pleading and sincerity.

“we just want to know that you're safe,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “that you're not recklessly endangering yourself anymore.”

gojo leaned in closer, his hand resting on your arm lightly. “we can't bear the thought of something happening to you again,” he chimed in, his tone carrying an undercurrent of worry.

they continued to exchange tender words and earnest pleas, their voices overlapping in a chorus of concern and affection. each spoke fervently about their love and the lengths they would go to ensure your safety and happiness. their words, though filled with their own fears and frustrations, were underscored by a deep, unwavering care for you.

as you watched them, a soft smile touched your lips. their earnest devotion, their refusal to let you face this alone, filled you with a profound sense of comfort and gratitude. you could see their love in every gesture and hear it in every word, and it warmed your heart. despite the gravity of the situation, their caring presence made you feel cherished and supported, giving you strength even in the midst of your own turmoil.

after a few moments of their heartfelt declarations, the room fell into a short silence, the weight of their words lingering in the air.

gojo ran a hand through his hair, a gesture of nervous energy. “and just so you know, suguru here basically took a week off work to sit by your bedside like a damn watchdog, he even almost made the rainbow dragon eat gakuganji because that fucker won't let him leave.” geto, caught off guard by the sudden revelation, flushed faintly and shot a glare at gojo.

geto, taken aback, shot a sharp look at gojo before retort, “you clearly about to hollow purple the higher-ups and the entire school because they won't let you stay here with her.” gojo's expression darkened for a moment, “you know i would do it in a heartbeat, if i could.” geto's grip on your hand tightened, his gaze still fixed on gojo. “i know you would. and i'd be right there with you.”

gojo and geto turned their attention back to you when they heard your soft chuckling, their expressions a mix of relief and amusement at hearing you laugh.

gojo chuckled as well, “you find that funny, huh?” he said, a smile tugging at his lips. geto rolled his eyes a bit, but his own smile betrayed his true feelings. he couldn't stay serious when you laughed. “just the thought of us going rogue and taking down the entire school system for you is amusing, i guess,” he said, his tone laced with sarcasm.

you hummed in satisfaction, “they are shit anyway.” a gentle smile lingering on your pale lips.

gojo chuckled warmly, his eyes sparkling at your comment. “ah, and there’s that signature wit of yours coming back.”

geto, still feigning annoyance but struggling to hide a grin, shook his head slightly. “still as blunt and unfiltered as ever,” he said, his eyes soft.

you glances at both of them, the comforting silence lingering between you, and with a tender smile, you mouthed softly, “i love you.” your cheeks flushed a delicate crimson beneath your pale complexion as you kissed their cheek.

gojo and geto exchanged a brief glance at your sweet words and soft kisses, their hearts swelling with warmth and love. gojo's hand reached out to stroke your hair, his touch gentle and loving. “we love you too,” he said softly.

geto's smile widened as he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. “always,” he breathed, his voice filled with tenderness.

the thought of you coming back to them is warm.

TAGLIST :

@junni-berry @fortunatelyfurrygiver @soraya-daydreams @diorzs @dancing--devils @iloveboysinred @bounie1 @nina3871 @ohnotheusernameisbroken

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allthingswhumpyandangsty · 2 months ago

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WHUMP ALPHABET

*anything that can be triggering is most likely listed here, skip this post if you think it might upset you*

A is for asystole, amputation, amnesia, asphyxiation, asthma, autopsy, asylum, abandonment, anxiety, abuse, assault, aneurysm, anger, addiction

B is for blood, bruises, blunt force trauma, burns, bite marks, blisters, betrayal, beating, blindfolding, bondage, brainwashing

C is for cannibalism, cuts, convulsion, concussion, cardiac arrest, corpse, chains, cult, carnage, craniotomy, craniectomy, chest compression, choking, coughing up blood

D is for delirium, dehydration, disfigurement, dismemberment, demonic possession, death, dehumanization, degradation, depression, disease, drowning, distress, despair, dizziness, drug withdrawal

E is for exsanguination, electrical injuries, electroconvulsive therapy, electrocution, execution, exhaustion, eating disorders, emergency room

F is for fever, flu, fatality, flat-lining, fractured bones, fear, fatigue, force-feeding, flagellation, flogging

G is for garroting, gunshot wounds, grief, gallows, guillotine, guilt, gash, gag

H is for hypothermia, heatstroke, hallucination, hyperventilation, hemorrhage, handcuffing, hospital, hanging, hatred, hate

I is for intubation, infection, injuries, injection, illness, internal bleeding, intravenous therapy, insomnia, illusion, innards

J is for jealousy, jugular veins

K is for killing, kidnapping, knife

L is for laceration, lobotomy, ligature marks, lack of oxygen, loss of consciousness, lies, living weapon, locking up

M is for morgue, miscommunication, murder, manslaughter, massacre, mourning, miscarriage, masochism, mistreatment, manipulation, misery, mental illness, malnutrition

N is for nightmares, nausea, necrophilia, necrotizing fasciitis, necrosis

O is for outbreaks, obeying, operating theater

P is for physical restraints, pain, punishment, poison, panic attack, paralysis, PTSD, penetration, pierced lung

Q is for quadriceps tendon rupture, quadriparesis, Quebec platelet disorder

R is for ruptured blood vessels, respiratory failure, rabies, rape, rope, resentment, ritual

S is for schadenfreude, strangulation, starvations, shock collar, shock therapy, straightjacket, sadism, scapegoat, shame, sacrifice, sadness, sorrow, slaughter, suicide, self-harm, self-hatred, self-destruction, stabbing, slavery, seizures, stress, slash, suffering, surrendering, somnophilia, shackles, sepsis, surgery

T is for torture, trauma, tears, toxicity, trust issues, traps, tying up

U is for urinary tract infection, unresponsive, unconsciousness

V is for violence, vomiting, viruses, venom

W is for wounds, weeping, waterboarding, weakness, whipping, whimpering

X is for x-ray

Y is for yellow fever, yelling, yelping

Z is for zombie apocalypse

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giantkillerjack · 2 years ago

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@avinlander

Hello! I've got C-PTSD and I've done a Loooot of acronyms of treatment (CBT, DBT, IOP, EMDR, exposure therapy, etc.), and I agree with the above statement.

My biggest pieces of advice are:

1. As much as you can, before starting trauma treatment, ensure you are in a stable place in other parts of your life.

Often when trauma is directly processed, the stress of doing that can make your mental health more fragile for a time.

(A lot of people are not in a place where they can afford to take this time and space. Which is one of the reasons labor rights are a major mental health issue. It's NOT YOUR FAULT if you are in this position.)

Remember that if you are currently undergoing trauma, treatments like EMDR and exposure therapy (which is basically EMDR but without the back and forth brain stimulus stuff) are risky because they are destabilizing agents, and thus can do more harm than good if you are already on shaky ground.

Now, recognizing you are currently being traumatized is not always possible (trauma naturally seeks to hide itself), but to give an example from my own life:

This past year, my partner was dangerously close to death for months (she's safe now thank fuck), but since no one was abusing me and I've had years of therapy to help me recognize these feelings, I was able to recognize that, even though I had JUST FOUND an EMDR specialist, it was a bad time for me to start actively digging into past trauma because I was currently incurring more trauma.

Instead, I opted for talk therapy that helped me get through all that on a day-to-day level. Even now, as my partner slowly recovers, my life is not stable enough to do something like exposure therapy or EMDR again anytime soon.

AND MORE IMPORTANTLY,

2. No matter what PTSD treatment you seek out, this work will exhaust you.

I mean, PHYSICALLY exhaust you.

I am so fucking serious about this:

In 2019, I attended an Intensive Outpatient Program that involved group trauma processing.

It was an emergency 4-6 week program for suicidal adults.

I was there for 21 weeks.

As it turned out, this was what I needed to finally stabilize after years of spiraling. But it was... an intense 5 months.

In fact, I was there for so long that after a time, the counselors declared I was in charge of welcoming newcomers because I had gotten really good at giving advice to new people.

And the thing I said every single time to every single person was basically:

This will exhaust you. Be gentle.

I would say that if you are anything like me and basically everyone I know with PTSD, you will leave here and think, "all I did today was sit and talk and maybe draw a little - why the fuck am I so tired!?"

If you are like me, then tomorrow, you will wake up, and you will think, "Fuck! Why aren't i getting more done? What is WRONG with me?!" And you will push yourself as hard as you can to get everything you planned on done.

And I tell you now, that any kind of trauma processing will actually physically drain your body of energy.

And because of the nature of trauma and capitalism, you likely won't be praised by many people for the extremely hard and extremely scary (brave) work you are doing. And since, during this time, you will also almost certainly be struggling to do anything considered "productive" by the powers that be, then the shame of this exhaustion - or the sheer denial of it - becomes treacherous.

So please know that this is brave work.

Whatever brings you genuine healing is good and important and you are worth it. And every time you try - whether or not you find the solution that time - that is an act of bravery.

If no one else acknowledges that for you in the way you deserve, then let me acknowledge that here:

This is the work of the giant killers.

This is deep magic.

I'm using flowery language but I'm right.

Here be dragons, adventurer. Some for slaying, some for study. And some for finding where they have been left lying long-forgotten, waiting to finally be held by gentle hands, despite everything. And you are the only one who can do it.

You don't deserve this pain, but you do deserve to be seen in the sunlight. I can't lessen the pain. But I can say there is something terribly heroic about you. And that I see you. Sunlight looks good on you.

I salute you and I desire nothing more than to see us both (and also Mr. Wheaton and anyone who reads this and--gods I do go on don't I?) alive and at peace.

I beg you to screw up every scrap of gentleness towards yourself that you can find. Healing is the opposite of an act of brute force. You deserve your gentleness more than anyone else in the world.

Your exhaustion is not weakness; it is a physical reaction to an impossibly exhausting task. This is going to take some remembering.

Try to take time off work if you can. If you can't, try to at least take the days off after sessions until you know how it affects you. (Ex. I was NOT safe to drive or travel after my first times doing new types of trauma therapy for like 24 hours after. I was so so dissociated. I felt like I had the flu. It also didn't help that my response to my exhaustion was to shame myself and push harder. I learned the hard way. That's why I started always saying this stuff to newbies at the program.)

The exhaustion is not just in your mind and heart but in your muscles and joints, and if you try to respond to that with harshness, you'll make it worse. You need extra rest!

Best of luck and softest of hearts,

- Jack

So I was just formally diagnosed with PTSD (I have depression and anxiety and suspected PTSD for some time) and my therapist has suggested EMDR therapy. I still don’t understand much about it and I was wondering if you have tried it? Or any of your followers have?

I've been doing EMDR for a couple months. Everyone's experience is different, but my experience has been remarkable. It isn't a magic potion that takes it all away, but little by little, I'm working through the roots of my pain, sadness, and trauma, and it's working.

I want to stress that it's not magic, okay? But it's been a positive part of my experience and is currently a significant part of my healing.

Also, as a fellow member of the PTSD club, I'm so sorry. I see you.

#[hurls a novel-length text post at you] TAKE THIS. IT'S DANGEROUS TO GO ALONE.#original #ptsd #c-ptsd #emdr #therapy #different things work for different people #my girlfriend as it turns out desperately needed adderall. and i needed 5 months of the most intense shit I've ever done.#she tried that same program and dropped out. group therapy didn't work for her.#i prefer emdr to exposure therapy by a wide margin but have only done a handful of emdr sessions comlared #*compared to how many trauma processing hours i got elsewhere #but i think my statement stands regardless. be gentle. be brave. be kind - especially to yourself. which is the hardest thing I've ever #had to learn. and is a constant battle to this day. but also it is a skill and like any skill - you can slowly build it up #folks can message me if they have questions but I'm still kind of going through it in my day-to-day life and so no guarantees #on if I will be able to answer. i am no longer suicidal but i am OVERWHELMED BY LIFE.#but most days i laugh til i cry while i hang out with my partner. so. it isn't so bad as it was. things get better.#or at least i get better at things #I am actually going to get a tattoo that says Giant Killer. my name is Jack.#and this was an analogy that my friends and I used a lot during that time #my friend madelyn once made me a cake in the shape of a giant to celebrate. we have this excellent pictures of me stabbing it w a big knife #that was a nice day #I used to think it was a cliche to say that courage is not the absence of fear but rather facing it #and maybe it is. but it's a terribly true cliche. a hero unbothered by fear is just poorly written.#a hero that has to handle fear is far more compelling. I think a lot about Sam and Frodo these days. they don't become unafraid of Sauron #but they do win a better world in spite of that. and it is not lost to me that Samwise Gamgee's kindness saved all of Middle-earth.#obviously people cannot be poorly written but I hope you get what I mean. healing is the closest thing to magic that I have seen.#the hard kind of magic that you really have to work for. but magic in its way.#I honestly don't know if I recommend IOP if you are not in an emergency situation. but also I don't know you.#this just in: i have no fucking chill when it comes to healing from trauma AND I NEVER WILL #this could have been so much more succinct but what am i an english paper

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acupoftaewithsomesuga · 2 months ago

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"𝑩𝒖𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔 𝑻𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏" • 𝑾𝒐𝒐𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒈 𝑱𝒖𝒏𝒈

summary• wooyoung and you have been in arranged marriage for almost 3 years. You are tired of the constant lack of physical affection and you start to slowly lose yourself. Who knew that this one misunderstanding would shift your relationship with Wooyoung.

warnings• ANGST, enemies to lovers, alluding to suicide, signs of depression, arguing, mentioning of harming others, mention of mental disorders, manipulation, mental breakdowns, SMUT, pet names (baby, dear, love, sweetheart, husband, wife), teasing, penetration, unprotected sex, clit play, squirting, rough sex, passionate sex, aftercare.

videos/audios to view before reading

w/c• 13.2k

a/n• this one took me forever to do but it is finally here! I want to thank @itsnotmydejavu and @rems-writing for giving me the strength to continue writing this one. I was genuinely going to scrap the whole thing but here it is to share with everyone! Next up Seonghwa to finish the OT8 saga!

taglist• @rems-writing @st4rhwa @sugarnspice630 @joongiesmoon @no1likevie @woohwababes @hongjoongswife1 @blackb3ll @staytiny23 @ccalyse

network• @othersideoutlawsnetwork

•masterlist•

After working on some paperwork for the business you decided to go see Wooyoung in his office. Wooyoung was a very established businessman known for working mainly in stocks. But what people didn’t know was that he was also smuggling drugs into the country. You were a businesswoman who worked with your father's established wood company. You have known Wooyoung from a young age but he was always standoffish. You were closer to his brother Hongjoong and connected more with him growing up. So you were really surprised when your parents and their parents decided that Wooyoung and you would be getting married. He didn’t have much of a reaction, he just nodded and bowed. You objected with no hesitation and got into a heated argument with your parents. But they weren’t letting up on their decision and neither were Wooyoung’s parents.

Wooyoung didn’t react to anything that was happening on the day of the wedding. He had a straight face throughout the whole thing and didn’t say a word to you except “I do.” On your honeymoon, you cried yourself to sleep because he didn’t touch you or even try to talk to you about anything meaningful. You felt so helpless at this point. That was 2 years ago and now you and Wooyoung are coming up to your third year of being married. Your relationship has grown but not as much as you would like. You both talk but it’s never how you want it to be. He talks about business and asks you how you are doing but that is about it. Conversations are kept to a minimum and you were at your limit with this. You figured you would try to win him over just so you weren’t losing your mind.

You knock on Wooyoung’s door and you can just hear the annoyance in his voice. “What is it?” He said irritated. You opened the door and saw him at his desk looking at the stack of paperwork on his table. “I just wanted to see if you needed anything,” you smiled but his expression didn’t waver one bit. “I don’t need anything from you. I need to focus on this deal. Don’t you have something to do? Like manage your father's business?” he said in a flat tone, still looking at the papers. “I have finished everything I needed to do. I just wanted to see how my husband is doing,” you say causing him to raise an eyebrow, his expression unyielding. “You're my wife, not my assistant. I don't require checking in on. I'm fine.” There is silence in the room before he speaks again. “Don't you have a hobby or something to occupy your time?” You stare at him, your smile fading at his words. “Yes, but as your wife I should make sure you are doing fine. And I do have a hobby, it's currently drying at the moment,” You explained referring to your painting.

Silence fills the room again before he speaks. “Painting, huh? I didn't know you were interested in that. It's a hobby, not a career. You don't need to waste your time on it.” You could feel the blood rushing through your veins as he belittles your passion. “You asked if I had a hobby and I told you my hobby. You want me to leave you alone and waste time on my hobby. But when I tell you my hobby you tell me it’s a waste of time and I should stop doing it. You don’t make sense at all sometimes. If you hate me then just say that.” Your voice echoed through the room causing Wooyoung to look up from his paper, his eyes flashing with annoyance. “Oh, spare me the drama. I don't hate you, I'm just trying to focus on my work. And I didn't say your hobby was a waste of time, I said it's not a career. There's a difference.” You could feel yourself boiling at his response. “Whatever Wooyoung. I’ll just go back to being your uncaring wife since that is what you want me to be. Ever since our parents arranged this marriage you haven’t even looked at me with loving eyes.”

His expression darkens, his voice cold “That's enough. You know as well as I do that our marriage was a business arrangement, not a love match. Don't pretend to be hurt or offended. You're getting everything you wanted out of this deal, just like I am.” You roll your eyes and close the door to his office. He returns to his work, but his focus is now scattered. He can't shake off the feeling that he's lost control of the situation and that nagging sense of guilt is starting to creep up on him.

You place your hands over your eyes, trying not to cry as you walk back to the painting studio. “I just want to be touched lovingly. I don’t care about the money. I fucking hate my parents,” you say to yourself as you enter the studio and close the door behind you. You sit in the studio and cry for up to an hour. Your heart was shattered and you felt like no one cared about my feelings. The idea of not having a husband who loves you made you hold yourself tight and sob. Knowing that he wouldn’t be able to love you fully along with your future children.

He enters the painting studio, his footsteps quiet on the floor. He sees you sitting there, tears streaming down your face, and for a moment, his mask falters. He looks almost human. He clears his throat, trying to regain his composure, and approaches you slowly. Wooyoung stands before you, his gaze fixed on your tear-stained face. He tries to reach out to you, his hand hovering above her shoulder, but hesitates.“You're…” For a moment, he looks like he's about to say something, but the words die on his lips. You just sat there folding your face, not wanting to hear anything he had to say. “Just leave me alone,” you cry out crunching your body closer to yourself. His eyes narrow, a flash of annoyance crossing his face, but he checks himself. He takes a deep breath, his expression smoothing out into its usual mask of calm control. He turns to leave but pauses at the door, his voice low and detached. “We have a meeting with the investors tomorrow.”

You whence at his words, holding yourself close. His gaze lingers on her for a moment, his eyes flicking over your soaked shirt before he turns away, his strides long and purposeful as he exits the room, leaving you alone with your tears. You get up, close the door to the studio, and take out your paint brushing. You start to paint on a new canvas with your emotions, painting a story of your heartbreak. He stands outside the studio door, his ear pressed against the wood, listening to the sounds of brushstrokes and muffled sobs. His eyes close, his jaw tightening as he absorbs the emotions that seep through the door. For a moment, he remains still, the only sound of his quiet breathing.

You continue covering your canvas with red and black. Painting your emotions onto this canvas. Red with black smudges representing your heart turning cold and helpless. He opens the door, his eyes scanning the room, taking in the canvas and the turmoil that surrounds him. His gaze fixes on the vibrant red and black hues, his expression unreadable, yet his eyes seem to hold a quiet intensity as if he's trying to decipher the code of her emotions.

You painted a base for a heart being held by a hand, crushing it with force causing it to bleed black. The black paint dripped off of the canvas and onto the wooden easel. Your hands were messy from the aggressive painting, your hands shaking. You take a deep breath and try to calm myself down, letting your remaining tears drip off your face.

For a moment, he's frozen, his chest rising and falling with slow, deliberate breaths. He takes a step closer, his shoes silent on the floor, his eyes never leaving the canvas. His voice is low and even, yet laced with an undercurrent of intensity, "Tell me, what is this?" He gestures to the painting, his hand hovering above the crushed heart.

“It’s art you’re supposed to interpret it yourself,” you say in a flat tone, your tears stilling. You start to grip your paintbrush forcefully, your body filled with rage. His eyes flicker to the side of your face, "Ah, but that's where you're wrong. Art is not just about interpretation, it's about understanding the soul of the creator. And I want to understand yours." His words were supposed to be endearing but in the moment it just pissed you off. “My heart is extremely fragile. Love represents red and hopelessness represents black,” you expressed weakening your grasp on your paintbrush to calm yourself down. His gaze lingers on the black paint. He takes another step closer, his proximity making the air feel thick and heavy, "And what do you hope for, when love is crushed and hopelessness reigns?" He asks causing your eyes to swell up again. “I hope to die, that’s what I hope. I’d rather not be here anymore than my heart be crushed by hopelessness,” you utter, the grasp on your paintbrush tightening again.

His expression remains unreadable, but his voice takes on a hint of softness, a gentle probing, "And what is it about this world that makes you want to escape it so desperately?" He pauses, looking at you with an emotionless gaze. “My lack of love and touch. The lack of loving conversations. Not having someone hold me and adore me. That’s why I want to escape.” He pauses before speaking, "You crave human connection, but are surrounded by emptiness. It's a feeling I'm familiar with," he says, his voice low and filled with regret. “Then why do you force me to go through it alone?” you snap turning around and looking up at him. Your eyes were red and puffy from all the crying. Red and black paint was smugged on your cheek from you wiping away your tears. His eyes widen fractionally at the accusation, but he doesn't back down, "I'm not forcing you to go through anything alone, you're choosing to be here, to surround yourself with the very things that hurt you," he argues back, his stance dominating the space between you.

“You don’t understand. No matter how much I surround myself with people I still lack physical touch and love.” He looks down at you, his presence looming over you. You see his jaw clench before he speaks, "Perhaps that's because you're looking for the wrong kind of touch, the wrong kind of love. You're so focused on what you're missing, you've forgotten how to appreciate what's right in front of you,” he says his expression getting more irritated.

“Again you don’t understand and you don’t listen. The point is I need you to love me. I am losing my mind. I sleep in bed with you every night with our backs turned to eachother. When I wake up you are gone. I don’t get morning hugs or even night kisses. It would be one thing if you didn’t want to be affectionate with me but I’d at least want you to talk to me like I’m your wife.” More tears escape your eyes, the paint making visible streams down your face. His expression remains unreadable, but his voice takes on a slightly softer tone, though it's still laced with a hint of detachment, "I do talk to you, y/n. I provide for you, protect you, and give you everything you need. What more do you want from me?" You look at him for a second and try to search for the words to say. “I just told you what I wanted Wooyoung. For you to hold me and be intimate with me.”

He takes another step closer, his eyes narrowing slightly as he speaks in a low, measured tone, "Intimacy is a weakness, y/n. It's a vulnerability that can be exploited. I've worked too hard to build my empire to let emotions get in the way.” Your face drops and you look at the ground. You sigh to yourself in defeat. He tilts his head slightly, studying you for a moment before continuing, his voice softer, "Why are you so hung up on this, y/n? I've given you everything you could ever need. Why does it matter if we-,” You instantly cut him off with your words and express your feelings. “I want a traditional husband. I want to be loved by my husband. Don’t you want the same from your wife?” Your eyes swelled with tears again as you looked up at him. You looked so hopeless as you looked at him, your eyes emanating a mixture of fear.

His expression falters for a brief moment, a flash of something deeper beneath the surface, before he masks it with his usual arrogance, "Love is a fleeting thing, y/n. It's a myth perpetuated by the weak-minded. I don't want love from you.” Your heart drops and his words stab into you like a knife. Your rage gets the best of you and you start to talk out of hatred. “And see that’s your problem now. You are going to die alone and miserable. But me I won’t dragged into your coldness. I will find someone that truly loves me.” You get up from your stool, the scrap running across the ground and echoing through the room. You glare at him before walking out of the studio.

He watches you go, a flicker of something like regret crossing his face before he shakes his head and turns to the window, his expression once again cold and unreadable. He mutters to himself, "Love is a fool's game." Your emotions were on a high and you felt like you weren't being heard properly. How could someone like Wooyoung be so cold and reserved for you but when he is around other people he smiles? What about you did he resent you so much?

You get to the room and get clothes out for bed. You walk into the bathroom and turn on the bathtub. You light some candles and turn off the lights, letting all the candles engulf the room.

He enters the bedroom and hears the sound of the running water coming from the bathroom. The soft glow of the candles drew him in. For a moment, he stands in the doorway, his gaze fixed on the peaceful scene before him.

Without knowing he was standing in the doorway you undo your robe and let it drop to the ground, your naked body being exposed to the air. You climb into the tub letting the hot water radiate against your skin. You breathe out as you feel your body being covered with hot water. For a moment, he's frozen, his usual composure slipping. His chest rises and falls with a slow, deliberate breath, and his fingers tighten into fists at his sides. You start to wash your body gently, humming to yourself. You throw your leg in the air and wash it thoroughly.

His eyes follow the movement of your leg, his gaze lingering on the curve of your thigh and the gentle motion of your hands as you wash. His jaw clenches, a muscle ticking in his cheek as he struggles to maintain his stoic demeanor.

After you clean yourself you decide to destress even more. You move your hand down to your core, rubbing your fingers against your folds. His eyes widen slightly as he watches you, his gaze riveted on the intimate act. His breath hitches, a low, almost imperceptible sound escaping his lips. He takes a step forward, his body seemingly drawn to the scene unfolding before him despite his better judgment.

You rub your fingers against your clit and start to moan softly, the waters around your arm splashing. He can't tear his eyes away, transfixed by the sight of your fingers dancing over your most sensitive flesh. The soft moans that spill from your lips send a jolt of something primal through him, his body responding with a surge of heat that he can't suppress.

“Hmm please, I’ve been a good girl,” you moan, continuing to rub circles against your clit. His control snaps as he hears your talk. With a few quick steps, he's at the edge of the bathtub, his icy façade shattering as he takes in the sight of you pleasuring yourself. His hand shoots out, gripping your wrist and gently guiding your hand away from your core.

Your eyes widen as you see Wooyoung looking at you his hand tight around your wrist. You were in complete shock as you made eye contact with him. His gaze holds yours, the intensity of his stare rendering you breathless. For a moment, the only sound is the soft lapping of the water against the tub. His voice was low as he spoke. "You shouldn't be doing that."

You scoff, “I can’t please myself in peace now? You won’t do it so I have to force myself to.” His eyes narrow, a hint of anger flashing beneath the surface. His grip on your wrist tightens, his fingers digging into your skin as he pulls you closer. "You think I won't do it?" His voice is low and menacing. “Not in the way that I’d want you to, no.” You express holding the same intensity that he was towards you. He takes a deep breath as his grip on your wrist tightens further. His other hand reaches up, cupping your chin and tilting your head back. "What way is that?"

“With love and passion. You only see me now for lust.” You hiss before pushing his hand away forcefully. His eyes flash with anger, his jaw clenched in a tight line. For a moment, it seems like he's about to lash out, but then his expression smooths, his mask of control slipping back into place. "Love and passion are weaknesses, sweetheart. I prefer to keep things transactional."

You roll your eyes at his childish response. “And I’d like to keep things traditional,” you scoff trying to pull your hand away from his grasp. His grip on your wrist doesn't relinquish, his fingers digging deeper into your skin as he pulls you back to him. "You want traditional?" He sneers, his voice dripping with disdain. "You want romance and fairy tales? I'm a businessman, not a prince charming.” Seeing him like this broke your heart. “You made that one obvious,” you said looking into his eyes in pain. For a fleeting moment, something in his eyes flickers, a glimmer of uncertainty or perhaps even empathy, but it's quickly snuffed out by his usual cold calculation. "You're not hurt, you're just disappointed,” he said in reaction to your hurt comment. “Just leave so I can fuck myself in peace.” His grip on your wrist tightens for a moment before he releases you with a dismissive shrug. "I'll leave you to your devices." He says, his voice clipped and cold, before turning on his heel and striding away, leaving you alone in the dimly lit room.

The sound of the door opening and closing breaks the silence, signaling Wooyoungs's departure. The room feels empty and still, the only sound being your ragged breathing. As the minutes tick by, the tension and anger seem to seep out of your body, leaving behind a hollow, exhausted feeling. You breathe and exhale, trying to calm yourself down. You sit in silence for a minute to try to keep yourself together. You lay back in the tub and try to forget everything that just happened between you and Wooyoung. You felt like your life was coming apart and you didn’t know how to cope with it. You sat into the stillness of the room remembering that this will soon pass and you will find someone to love you since Wooyoung made it apparent that he wanted to keep your relationship transactional.

You start to hum to yourself as a distraction. The humming is a weak attempt to drown out the thoughts swirling in your mind, but it's a start. As you lay back in the bathtub, the warm water envelops you, and your eyelids begin to feel heavy. “I should get out in a minute.” you sigh to yourself. The water continues to swirl around you as you lay motionless, the remnants of anger and hurt slowly fading. The exhaustion, however, stays, weighing heavy on your limbs. The minutes tick by, each one bringing you closer to the decision of getting out of the tub.

You get out of the tub and start to dry your body off. As you dry off, the cool air of the bathroom hits your skin. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, and for a moment, you're taken aback by the reflection staring back. Your eyes look tired, your skin paler than usual, and your expression drawn. “I need to get it together. I have to find someone to love me. I can’t dwindle away like this.” you said before pulling the robe over your body and walking to the bedroom to change into your night clothes.

You slip into a comfortable pair of pajamas, the soft fabric a gentle solace against your fragile emotions. As you make your way to the bed, your gaze falls upon the scattering of papers and notes on your side table, reminders of the meeting with the investors, and the looming deadline for the investment deal.

“Why was I forced to live like this.” you sigh spreading your body on top of the bed, letting the sheets press against your warm skin. Your phone, abandoned on the bedside table, suddenly buzzes with an incoming message. The screen illuminates, casting an eerie glow on your face. The words "Ever, we need to talk. -H" flash before your eyes, piercing through the haze of your despair. You hesitantly reach for the phone, your fingers hovering over the screen as if unsure of what secrets it might hold. The message from Hongjoong seems to weigh heavier with each passing moment, his words echoing in your mind like an unspoken challenge. The phone rings twice before Hongjoong's resonant voice answers, his tone is husky from what sounds like a late night or lingering exhaustion. "y/n, I've been trying to reach you all day. We need to discuss the Kang account. There are complications."

“What happened,” you ask bluntly, your voice uninterested in the situation. Hongjoong's pause is palpable, the silence between you a heavy, unspoken understanding. "The Kangs are getting cold feet. They're threatening to pull out of the deal if we don't meet their revised demands. I need you to charm them, y/n.” You exhale and roll your eyes, irritation lingering in your voice, “How would I do that?” Hongjoong's voice drops lower, the weight of his words seemingly pulling at your very consciousness. "You've always had a way with people, y/n. You know what they want before they even realize it themselves. Use that to your advantage. And mine." You could hear the desperation in his voice and you started to feel empathetic towards your brother-in-law.

“Okay, I will see what I can do,” you said in a flat tone, your finger hovering over the end call button. Hongjoong's tone lightens imperceptibly, a low, smooth chuckle rumbling through the phone. "I knew I could count on you, y/n. You always were the one with the silver tongue. Just remember, I'm counting on you to get this deal back on track.” “Yup I got it,” you said before hanging up and squeezing the phone out of irritation. The line goes dead, and for a moment, you're left lying there, the phone still clutched in your hand, the weight of Hongjoong's expectations settling in like a shroud. You can almost feel his eyes on you, even from afar, watching, waiting.

You place your phone back down on the nightstand and engulf yourself in the sheets. As you lay there, trying to escape the suffocating feeling of Hongjoong's demands, your mind begins to wander back to the conversation, replaying his words like a mantra. "Use that to your advantage. And mine."

“What a fucking pig, why doesn't he get his brother to do it. Why am I always trying to please others? Leave it to me to take care of two men who don't even provide for me emotionally. What a fucking joke.” you scoff to yourself before exhaling deeply. “Everything is going to be fine. All I have to do is get this deal done and we can relax for a moment. Tomorrow is another day, meaning another day to start over again.” You reassure yourself about this whole situation and sit for a minute to calm your lingering frustrations from the day. You let your eyes fall shut, drifting off to bed.

Your dreams that night are plagued with images of Hongjoong, his piercing gaze and unyielding presence haunting your sleep. You see Wooyoung in your dreams repeating everything he said to you during your arguments. You toss in bed all night your head riddled with the two brothers.

You wake up the next morning with a renewed sense of purpose, if not a slightly bitter taste in your mouth. You'll do what he asks, but not out of loyalty, only for yourself and your cut of the deal. You get up and look at the way you look in the vanity. You force a smile on your face just to make sure you remember how to. “He doesn't love you y/n. Just keep being you. Don’t change for him and don't shed any more tears.” You make this promise to yourself realizing that Wooyoung will never break his habits and he will forever be distant with you.

You get dressed and put on your designer black dress. You do your makeup and put on jewelry. You put on your heels and walk to the living room. At this time you assert yourself with confidence. This was an important deal and you had to make sure that you were on top of performing today. As you stride into the living room, you're met with the sight of Wooyoung, already seated on the couch, sipping on a cup of black coffee. He's dressed impeccably in a tailored black suit, his eyes fixed on you as you enter.

You invert your gaze from Wooyoung to the teapot lying on the coffee table. You grab a glass and pour yourself some tea. You put a cube of sugar in it and started to drink. Wooyoung's eyes narrow slightly as you avoid direct eye contact, his gaze lingering on the delicate curve of your neck. His lips compress into a thin line, his expression unreadable. "So, are you prepared to discuss the terms of our agreement with the Kangs?" You put the cup down and cross your legs before speaking, “I’m always ready.” Your voice is disinterested in having a conversation with him. Wooyoung's gaze flicks to your crossed legs, a fleeting interest sparking in his eyes before he returns to a neutral expression. He sets his cup down, his movements deliberate and controlled. "Very well. I've reviewed the proposal, and I'm willing to make some concessions.” You take another sip of your tea before making a dry response. “Hmm, that’s good. Mr. Kang would like that.”

Wooyoung's eyes flash with a hint of annoyance, but he quickly masks it with a calculating calmness. "Yes, I'm sure he would. However, I think we can both agree that Mr. Kang's interests are not the primary concern here." “Very true but he is the one taking the deal at the end of the day,” you snap back wanting him to simply shut up. Wooyoung's lips curl into a subtle, condescending smile. "Ah, but that's where you're wrong. Mr. Kang may think he's calling the shots, but I'm the one holding the reins. And I always get what I want, one way or another." I look at Wooyoung in response to his childish comments.

“Do you think Hongjoong would be pleased with how you’re talking? You know the deal Wooyoung. We sell this deal to Mr. Kang and we get our cut,” you say to get Wooyoung to know his place and to remind him that his older brother is the one calling the shots. Wooyoung's smile widens, his eyes glinting with a hint of amusement. "Hongjoong? Ha! He's too busy playing nice with the investors to care about the details. And as for the deal, I'm not worried about getting our cut.” You exhale softly before drinking my tea. You didn’t want to argue with Wooyoung anymore because you knew if he was doing this on his own he would find a way to fuck up the whole deal.

“When they get here remember that we are a loving married couple. We don’t want the Kangs suspecting us,” you say causing Wooyoung's gaze to drift to you, his expression softening ever so slightly as he raises an eyebrow. "Oh, don't worry, darling," he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'll make sure to put on a show for the Kangs.”

You roll your eyes and pour yourself some more tea. Wooyoung chuckles, a low, throaty sound, as he watches you roll your eyes. He leans back in his chair, steepling his fingers together in a gesture of mock seriousness. "After all, we're a loving married couple, living a life of perfect domestic bliss.” “So that means don’t be a dickhead.” you say sarcastically before getting up and looking out of the window. Wooyoung laughs, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Oh, I'll try to contain myself, sweetheart," he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I wouldn't want to spoil the illusion of our perfect marriage." You look out the window for a while just thinking about the act that you have to put up before you decide to respond to him. You move from the window and walk behind Wooyoung, hovering over him as you speak. “Well, we should get into character.” Wooyoung was more into the contract than he was into you, a typical sight you were used to.

You changed your personality from Wooyoungs arranged wife to his loving and caring soulmate. “Good morning darling,” you cooed before rubbing your hands against his chest. You could feel his body tense up from the sudden feeling of you caressing his chest softly. You slowly pull away from his and walk in front of him. “So nice to see you awake.” you express before grabbing his chin with my fingers and pulling him closer to your lips. You press a passionate kiss on his lips before pulling away and looking down at him. Wooyoung's eyes flicker with surprise at the sudden change in your demeanor, but he quickly recovers, a charming smile spreading across his face. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you in for a deeper kiss, his lips expertly mimicking passion and affection.

“That’s good enough,” you say the smile on your face fading into a neutral expression. You pull back and move back to your spot on the couch, taking a sip of your tea to get the taste of him out of your mouth. Wooyoung's arms fall from your waist, his expression carefully neutral as you return to your seat. He watches you for a moment longer before turning his attention back to the paper in his hand, adjusting his tie with an air of cool indifference. "Took you long enough," he snickered. “We are just pretending.” you expressed reminding Wooyoung that it was all an act. Wooyoung's gaze meets yours, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "Of course, darling," he says, his tone laced with sarcasm. "I forgot we're just pretending to be in love. How convenient." He pauses, his expression turned icy once more. You could tell Wooyoung’s own morals were starting to slip. Just yesterday he was preaching to you how love was pointless but now he suddenly forgets that the love that you give to him is all pretend. You start to scoff to yourself realizing that Wooyoung isn’t as strong as he thinks he is.

You take a sip of your tea and your eyes wander his body, looking at Wooyoung up and down. You notice the visible tent in his pants and you couldn’t help but piss him off. “You need to control that before the Kangs get here.” His eyes narrow, his face flushing with a subtle hint of embarrassment. He quickly regains his composure, his mask of confidence slipping back into place. "It's none of your concern," he says, his voice low and even. You couldn’t help but chuckle to yourself and roll your eyes knowing that he was flustered by simple one kiss. Wooyoung's eyes flash with annoyance, his jaw clenched in irritation. "What's so funny?" he asks, his tone dripping with disdain. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, trying to subtly adjust himself without drawing attention to the obvious signs of his arousal.

“The only thing funny in this situation is how hard you are from me kissing you. We are described as an overly affectionate couple, so you can’t just get hard like you aren’t used to us kissing.” His eyes flashed with anger and embarrassment at your comment. "Shut up," he says, his voice low and menacing. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself down, but his arousal remains evident. "You think you're clever, don't you?" You pause and smile to yourself as you feel Wooyoung’s facade fading at your command. You quickly changed your demeanor from cold to warm. You turned and looked at Wooyoung, a precious smile painted on your face,

“I do my love.” Wooyoung's expression softens, his eyes warming up as he gazes at you. He clears his throat, attempting to maintain a semblance of dignity despite his still-obvious arousal. "Ah, dear," he says, his voice slightly wavering, "you're not helping the situation." You look at him as if he is a lost puppy before speaking. “Well my love, you better fix it soon before they get here. Imagine their first impression of Mr. Kang is his boner poking out of his trousers.” You chuckle softly seeing a peak of his softer side come out because of his embarrassment.

Wooyoung's face turns bright red as he glances down at his crotch, his embarrassment and frustration palpable. He hastily adjusts himself, trying to hide the evidence of his arousal. "Dammit, y/n," he mutters under his breath, "you're not making this any easier for me."

“I’m not doing anything, your mind is just filled with dirty thoughts and you need to get rid of them.” Your response struck a nerve with him causing him to become defensive. "My mind is not filled with dirty thoughts," he protests, though his voice lacks conviction. He straightens his tie, his motions stiff and awkward. “I'm a respected businessman, not some hormone-driven teenager.”

“Wooyoung I just kissed you, you are hard as a rock right now. Last night you watched me play with myself in the bathtub. You aren’t a saint.” His face reddening further as he struggles to maintain his composure. "That's not the point," he snaps back, trying to ignore the fact that you were right. You could see him struggling in the moment so you decided to make him struggle even more. “Oh my beloved husband, then what is the point?” He clears his throat, trying to regain his composure. "I-I don't know what you're trying to do, but it won't work," He stutters before looking back at the contract.

“My love I’m not doing anything I’m just practicing for when they come,” you say softly before smirking at him with amusement. You can see the anger emanating from Wooyoung as he looks you in the eyes. "So you think you can just play me like a fool?" He sets down the paperwork on the coffee table, his voice dripping with venom. "You think you can use your charms to manipulate me, to get what you want?" You could sense that Wooyoung’s anger was getting the best of him. He didn’t like being controlled so this whole situation fueled his rage even more. The idea of you manipulating him and you being in control made him feel inferior to you. This caused his reactions to be radioactive and his emotions to be erratic and almost seem bipolar.

“I’m practicing on you so I can get what we want from the Kangs. All we need is for them to take the deal that’s it. Then we can go back to being ourselves.” You said, your expression is a bit more serious. You were trying to reassure Wooyoung of why you were doing the things that you were doing to him. But in reality, you wanted to see a glimpse of the softer side you never got to experience. Wooyoung's expression subsides, his anger giving way to a calculating curiosity. "I see," he pauses before speaking again. "You're using me as a test subject, to refine your skills before the real negotiation. And what makes you think this will work?" A sly smirk danced across your lips. “It always works. Why do you think Hongjoong speaks so highly of me?” you allude before taking a sip of your tea. His gaze lingers on the smirk, "Hongjoong," he repeats, his tone neutral, but laced with a hint of warning. "You think you're that good, huh?” You rolled your eyes knowing that Wooyoung didn’t know half. He didn’t know that before you were both in an arranged marriage you had eyes on Hongjoong. You had Hongjoong around your finger until both of your parents decided to arrange the both of you together.

“Trust me darling I know I am.” You scoff followed by a chuckle. Wooyoung’s expression remains impassive, but his eyes flicker with a mixture of amusement and annoyance. "Save it for the Kangs, sweetheart," he says, his voice dry. "I'm not impressed." He glances at his watch, his gaze lingering on the time. “That’s because you know my secret.” Wooyoung's eyes narrow, his interest piqued despite himself. "And what secret would that be?" he asks, his voice low and even, but with a hint of curiosity lurking beneath the surface.

You get up once again and hover yourself over him again. “That I can change my character swiftly to get whatever I want,” you whisper in his ear. “Just like how you got hard from me acting as your loving wife that fucks you right,” you said trailing my hands down his chest. Wooyoung's eyes flash with anger, but his body betrays him, his chest rising and falling with a sudden intake of breath. He tries to maintain his composure. "You think your little manipulative games are going to work on me?"

“Absolutely my love” you whisper, followed by kissing him on his neck. Wooyoung's eyes drift closed, his jaw clenched as he struggles to resist the sensations coursing through his body. His hands, however, involuntarily flex, as if craving to grasp and hold onto you. “Darling if this deal is successful with the Kangs I’ll let you take me,” you whispered your lips touching his ear. His breathing grows heavier, his control wavering as his gaze snaps back to yours. For a moment, his eyes burn with a fierce intensity, and his voice drops to a low, husky tone. "You're pushing it, sweetheart." You ignore his threat and continue to tease him further. “Just imagine how desperate I sound as you ram into me.” You then proceed to moan in his ear, “Mmmm Wooyoung,” you playfully moaned before giggling.

Wooyoung’s face darkens, his eyes flashing with a mix of anger and desire. His hands shoot out and grasp your arms. He pulls you infront of him and tails his hands down to your hips as he pulls you onto his lap. "You want to play dirty, huh?" His voice is low and menacing, his breathing hot against your ear. You chuckle as he sits you on his lap. “Absolutely.”

"Then let's be nasty," he whispers, trailing his fingers along your jaw to turn your face towards his. He then leaned in to claim your lips in a bruising kiss. His hands roam freely over your body as he whispers wicked things in your ear. "Fuck, you're gorgeous." You smirk against the kiss mischievously “Just how you like it, my love.”

"You're a fucking danger," he mutters, his lips quirking into a smirk as he pulls back to look at you. "But I fucking love it." You chuckle getting off his lap and moving your way back to your side of the couch. His gaze follows your every move as you saunter back to your seat. He takes a deep breath, his chest rising and falling with a slow, deliberate slowness. "Tease." You take another sip of your tea before saying, “Trust me I know how to do that the best baby,” His gaze never leaves yours, his eyes flashing with a hint of warning as he raises an eyebrow. "Don't think you've gotten out of this that easily, sweetheart," he says, his voice low and silky, a promise of retribution lurking beneath the surface. You chuckle in amusement. He was so easy to turn on even when we were just “pretending”.

Wooyoung seems to gleam with a knowing intensity as if he's aware of the game you're playing and is more than willing to play along. He leans back on the couch, steepling his fingers together as he regards you with an air of quiet confidence.

The doorbell rings and you both get up and walk to the door. “Remember we are a loving husband and wife.” Wooyoung shoots you a dry look, but a hint of a smirk plays on his lips as he takes your hand, his fingers intertwining with yours in a gesture of affection. He opens the door, his smile widening into a charming, effortless grin as he greets whoever is on the other side.

“Hi Mr. and Mrs. Kang please come in.” you give a pleasant smile before moving to the side. Wooyoung's grip on your hand tightens slightly as he steps aside, allowing the Kangs to enter. He nods cordially, his smile never faltering, as he ushers them into the living room. "Please, make yourselves at home. Can I offer you something to drink?" The Kangs say they would simply want water and this signals Wooyoung to go to the kitchen. “It’s such a nice day outside. Amazing weather for golf. Me and my husband were just discussing that not long before you both came in.” you smiled flashing your charm. Wooyoung returns with a tray holding four glasses of water, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he hands them out with a courteous smile. "Ah, yes, the weather is perfect for golf, isn't it? We were thinking of squeezing in a round later this week.”

You smile at Wooyoung, grab the glasses from the tray and place them down on the coffee table. Wooyoung's gaze lingers on you for a moment, appreciating the grace with which you handle the glasses. He sets the tray down on the nearby sideboard, his eyes twinkling as he turns back to the conversation. "You both play golf?" Mr. Kang nods and goes on a tangent about how he goes frequently. He talks about how he loves going early in the morning and you and Wooyoung listen intensively, smiling and nodding. Mrs. Kang makes a joke about his obsession causing everyone to laugh. “Trust me my husband is the same way.” You chuckle.

Wooyoung's laughter is a low, smooth sound, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he joins in the amusement. He inclines his head towards you, his gaze warm with shared understanding, before turning back to the Kangs. “I heard that you both will be going on vacation soon isn’t that exciting? A month's vacation is a treat.” You smile looking at them. Mr. Kang nods and talks about the planned trip to the Virgin Islands and how he wants to treat his wife to something special. “Oooh a romantic I see.” you giggle flashing Mrs. Kang a smile. Mr. Kang smiles back and kisses his wife on the cheek.

“I just know you both will have an amazing time. Should we go over the business deal?” You smile reaching out of your briefcase to pull out a contract. Wooyoung's attention snaps back to you, his eyes locking onto the contract in your hand. His expression transforms the geniality of moments before giving way to a sharp, calculating intensity. He nods curtly, his voice taking on a clipped tone. "Yes, let's get down to business.” You go over the paperwork with the Kangs for a good 2 hours. There was a lot of negotiation involved but it seemed like they were pleased with the offer. “Okay then it’s settled, just sign here for me.” Mr. and Mrs. Kang signed the contract and everyone got up and shook each other's hand. Everyone continued to make small talk and laugh just before they left. You and Wooyoung waved as they left and Wooyoung shut the door. As the door closes behind the Kangs, Wooyoung's demeanor shifts once again, his expression becoming more relaxed, though still guarded. He turns to face you, his eyes narrowing slightly as he surveys you. "Well done," he says, his tone firm. "You handled that meeting like a pro.”

“Of course I did. I told you I was good at charming people. We needed the deal so I had to do what was best. I’m just happy that the Kangs took the bait.” I said exhaling my body relaxing.

Wooyoung's gaze lingers on you for a moment, his eyes seem to be searching for something beneath the surface. Then, he nods, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Yes, charming people is indeed one of your talents." You chuckle at his comment and pick up the cups off the table. “Yeah, I had you pretty worked up earlier.” Wooyoung's expression remains impassive, but a hint of dry humor creeps into his voice. "Worked up? I was merely intrigued by your audacity." He glances at the cups in your hand, his attention snapping back to the task at hand. “Right.” you chuckle gathering up the glasses and taking them to the kitchen. Wooyoung follows you to the kitchen, his footsteps quiet on the floor. He leans against the counter, watching you with an air of casual interest as you put the cups in the dishwasher. "So, what do you think the Kangs will do next?"

“Well first go on their vacation then continue with their regular business,” you say closing the dishwasher. “What are you doing the rest of the day?” Wooyoung's eyes narrow slightly, his gaze turning introspective. "I have a meeting with a potential investor later today. And then, I have some personal matters to attend to." You look down at your watch before saying, “Got it, well I will be here working on my work once you get busy. Is there anything you would like to do for the time being?” Wooyoung's gaze flicks to your watch, then back to your face, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "Actually, I think I'll join you in the living room. I have some documents to review, and your company is tolerable." You roll your eyes at his sly comment.

“Okay sounds good,” You say before getting out a charcuterie board and a glass of wine. Wooyoung raises an eyebrow as he leans against the counter beside you, his eyes fixed on the charcuterie board and wine. "You're trying to impress me, aren't you?" His tone is laced with dry humor, but a hint of curiosity creeps into his voice. “Absolutely not, I’m trying to enjoy myself after a job well done. I know you are a whisky guy, not a wine man.” you chuckle pouring yourself a glass.

Wooyoung's expression remains unreadable, but a faint glint of approval sparks in his eyes. "You're learning. Most people wouldn't dare assume my preferences, let alone correct themselves." “I’m your wife, even though we don’t spend that much time together I know what you like.” You say before grabbing the board and wine and making your way to the living room. Wooyoung follows you, his long strides eating up the distance as he hovers behind you. "I suppose that's true," he says, his voice low and measured. "Though I've often wondered if our arrangement is more convenient for you than I previously thought."

“Convenient how?” you chuckle placing the wine and board on the coffee table. Wooyoung's gaze narrows, his eyes piercing as he regards you. "Don't play coy, darling. Our marriage is a mutually beneficial arrangement, isn't it? I receive the respectability of being married to someone of your standing, and you gain access to my resources and influence."

“This is true,” you say before walking down the long hallway to your shared bedroom to change into something comfortable. You strip away your dress leaving only your panties and bra on and wrap your body in my silk-green robe. You could feel Wooyoung’s eyes tracking your movements from the doorway. You turn to look at him, his eyes never leaving yours, his expression unreadable. “You didn’t have to follow me. You could have just stayed in the living room. Unless you need something.” you teased undoing the strap on your robe and flashing your body to him, your lace set looking at him. Wooyoung's gaze doesn't waver, his eyes locked onto the tantalizing glimpse of your body. A slight raise of his eyebrow is the only indication of his interest, but his voice remains smooth and controlled. "I think I do need something, darling. Your attention, perhaps?"

“How could I give you my attention my darling husband?” you say sarcastically closing your robe and leaving the room. Wooyoung's eyes narrow, a faint spark of amusement dancing in their depths. He strides after you, his legs easily keeping pace with yours. "You know exactly how my dear wife. You're not as innocent as you're pretending to be." You chuckle, loving this game of him following me around like you're his prey. “How would you know? You never dabbled in peeking at my arousal. You have no idea if I’m innocent or not.” Wooyoung's smile grows, a calculated glint in his eye as he corners you in the hallway. "Ah, but that's where you're wrong, my love. I've been watching you, studying you. I know exactly when to make my move, and exactly how to get what I want."

“Mmm, I’m sorry my dear” you smirk wrapping your fingers around his tie and pulling him closer to you, your lips lining up with his ear. “I hate to break it to you but I won’t easily crumble under your touch. No matter how much I want you to fuck me you will have to chase me,” you say before letting go of his tie and walking back to the living room. Wooyoung's eyes flash with a mix of surprise and intrigue, his pupils dilating slightly as he processes your bold move. "Is that a challenge, my love?"

“In ways yes. It’s more of a challenge for you and not for me. I have self-control. You on the other hand do not. See how long you can last before you pounce on me.” you tease, sitting down on the couch, drinking my wine. Wooyoung's gaze lingers on you, his eyes tracing the curve of your lips as you smile. He takes a step closer, his movements deliberate and calculated, his voice low and husky. "I'll have you know, I've built my empire on self-control.” You put a piece of meat and cheese into your mouth, looking up at him. “Is that right?” you chuckle. He takes another step closer, his presence looming over you like a dark shadow. "Yes, that's right," he says, his voice dripping with confidence.

You take a piece of meat and cheese and get up from the couch. You walk over to Wooyoung and guide it to his mouth. “We will see how much self-control you have my dear husband.” Wooyoung's eyes flash with surprise, his gaze fixed on the offering. For a moment, he seems to hesitate, his mouth opening slightly as if to accept the snack. Then, his expression darkens, and he reaches out to grasp your wrist, his grip like a vice. “What is it, my love? You can’t eat from my fingers?” you chuckle looking up at him. Wooyoung's grip tightens, his fingers digging into your skin as he glares down at you. His eyes flash with fury, and for a moment, it seems as if he might lose control. "I am not your plaything," he growls, his voice barely controlled.

“If you say so my love.” you smile removing your wrist from his grasp and eating the snack. “I just wanted to please you that’s all,” you say caressing his arm with your hand before you sit back on the couch. Wooyoung's gaze follows your every move, his eyes burning with intensity. For a moment, he seems to be collecting himself, his expression a mask of calmness. "You think you can manipulate me with such childish games?" You roll your eyes and look down. “Tell your dick that,” you say referring to the visible tent in his pants. You then take a sip of your wine. Wooyoung's face darkens, his eyes flashing with anger. He takes a step closer to you, his voice low and menacing. "You think you're clever, don't you?" he sneers, his eyes fixed on yours. "But you're just playing with fire, darling.” You scoff, “From the looks of it baby, you are the one playing with fire. You’re the one all worked up and hot.” You say eating a grape and laying back on the couch.

Wooyoung's eyes narrow, his jaw clenched in frustration. He takes another step closer, his presence looming over you as he speaks. "You're pushing your luck, sweetheart. You think you can tease me like this and get away with it?" “Absolutely because you have self-control. remember?” you grab another grape and eat it. He reaches out, his hand grasping the armrest of the couch beside you, his fingers digging into the leather as he leans in closer. "Self-control is a myth when it comes to you, darling." You giggle at his words finally seeing that he has broken his cold facade. You place your hand on his cheek and caress it softly. “Are you losing control, my love?” Wooyoung's eyes flutter closed, his breathing quickening as he succumbs to your touch. He presses his cheek into your hand, his skin warm against your palm. For a moment, his guard drops, and his mask of control slips, revealing a glimmer of vulnerability beneath. "Maybe."

You look at him softly seeing his demeanor change. “Then come here, baby,” you breathe before pulling him closer by his tie and placing a kiss on his lips. Wooyoung's eyes snap open, his lips parting in surprise as you pull him in for a kiss. “You look so good today Wooyoung,” you said between the kiss. For a moment, he's frozen, his body tense with anticipation. Then he yields, his lips crashing against yours in a fierce, possessive kiss. Wooyoung's hands wrap around your waist, pulling you off the couch and into his arms as he deepens the kiss. His fingers dig into your skin, holding you in place as he devours your lips. The air around you seems to be charged with electricity, your desire and passion coursing through every nerve in your body. You pull away for a moment and look at his face, seeing the need in his expression. “Don’t you have some paperwork to do my love?” You tease him watching the frustration sweep across his face. He exhales heavily, his chest heaving with restrained passion. "Paperwork?" he repeats, his voice low and rough, heavy with disappointment. "You think I care about paperwork right now?"

“That’s what I like to hear baby.” You then press my lips back onto his. Wooyoung's scowl disappears, replaced by pleasure as he claims your lips once more. He devours you, his tongue tangling with yours in a fierce, possessive kiss. His hands slide up your back, pulling you even closer, his body molding against yours. “Fuck...” you gasp against the kiss as you reach down to his suit jacket and start to unbutton it, causing his breath to hitch. His hands suddenly grip onto your wrist and squeeze tightly as if he was trying to hold back. He breaks the kiss, a low moan escaping his lips as he watches your fingers work on his buttons. "You're forcing my hand, love,"

You remove his jacket and breath in his ear, “To be honest darling, I couldn’t give a fuck.” you say before pressing your lips back together. Wooyoung's eyes roll back, his body shuddering against yours. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you in with fierce possessiveness. His lips devour yours, his tongue stroking yours with a slow, deliberate intensity.

You start to unbutton his button-down as you kiss passionately. “Ever since I saw you shirtless at our honeymoon I have wanted you since. I can’t believe you didn’t fuck me that night. You're such a tease.” you said against his lips. He moans, his lips faltering for a moment as he pulls back, his eyes blazing with intensity. "You think I didn't want to?"

“Why didn’t you? I was waiting. I touched myself that night because of you.” You pulled his button down completely off, running your hands down his chest to his stomach. Wooyoung's face darkens, his jaw clenched in restraint. His hands slide up your back, his fingers digging into your skin as he pulls you closer. "I was trying to be a gentleman," he growls, his voice low. “It was our honeymoon, we were married at that point. I wanted you to ruin me,” you say before starting to unbuckle his pants. He hisses, his body tensing as he tries to maintain control. "You have no idea how hard it was for me to restrain myself that night," he breathed trying to keep it together.

“Well, baby you can make up for it right now.” You say unbuttoning his pants and unzipping them. You then unravel my robe and expose my lace underwear set to him. Wooyoung's gaze devours your body, his eyes lingering on the lace underwear before snapping back to yours. You pull him in closer and whisper. “Where do you want me? In the living room? In the bedroom?” You pause and smirk against his ear. “In your office?” His chest heaves with a ragged breath as he struggles to maintain his composure. "My office," *he demands, his voice barely above a whisper.

You chuckle before getting up and grabbing his hand, guiding him to his office in just your lingerie. Wooyoung's eyes never leave yours as he follows you, his grip on your hand tightening. He slams the door shut behind him, the sound echoing through the room. He spins you around, his hands grasping your waist as he pushes you against the desk. You moan wrapping your arms around his shoulders. Wooyoung's lips crash down on yours, his kiss fierce and demanding. His hands roam your body, tracing the curves of your waist and hips before grasping your thighs and lifting you onto the desk. "I've wanted this for so long," he confesses between the kiss. “So have I,” you say before reaching behind your back and unhooking your bra, tossing it across the room. Wooyoung's eyes widen as your bra flies across the room, his gaze immediately snapping back to your now-exposed breasts. He takes a step closer, his breathing heavy, as he cups your boobs in his hands. His thumbs tease your nipples, sending a chill to your core.

“Fuck,” you breathe before reaching down and rubbing your hand along his still-clothe shaft. Wooyoung groans as he thrusts into your palm, his hips moving on their own accord. "You have no idea how many nights I've jerked off to thoughts of this," he confesses, his eyes burning into yours. “Then I plan to make it more than you ever imagined.” You pull down his pants slightly and rub him through his boxers. “So thick.” you breathe, pressing a kiss on his lips. Wooyoung's hips buck into your hand, a low moan escaping his lips as you rub him through his boxers. He breaks the kiss, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "Get rid of these," *he commands, nodding towards your panties.

You reached for your panties and slid them off, a trail of my juices connecting from your panties to your core. Wooyoung's eyes flicker down to the glistening wet trail leading from your discarded panties to your slick core causing his pupils to dilate. "Spread your legs," he orders, his voice low and commanding. You spread your legs and look him into his eyes. Wooyoung's gaze lingers on your exposed core for a moment, his breath hitching as he drinks at the sight of you. With a swift movement, he hooks his fingers into the waistband of his boxers and pushes them down, freeing his member. His dick slaps against your thigh and your eyes grow wide at his size. Wooyoung's lips curl into a smug smirk as he notices your reaction to the size of his dick. He grips his shaft, giving it a few slow, deliberate strokes. "You're going to take all of me," he promises, his voice dripping with confidence. "Every inch."

You look at him and your demeanor turns from confident to sheepish. You take a deep breath and nod your head letting him know that you agree to take him. Wooyoung's smirk grows wider at your submissive nod, a glint of satisfaction in his eyes. He steps closer, his tip brushing against your soaked folds. "Good girl," he purrs, his voice low and approving. "Now, spread your legs wider for me." You do as you are told and spread your legs, looking at him as you do so. Wooyoung's eyes darken with lust as he takes in the sight of your spread thighs, your pussy glistening with arousal. He positions the head of his cock at your entrance.. "Look at me," he commands, his voice rough with desire. You look at him shyly and bite your lip in anticipation. Wooyoung's nostrils flare as he notices your nervous gesture. With one slow, careful thrust, he begins to push himself inside you, his hard length stretching you wide. "You're so tight," he murmurs, his voice filled with approval. You couldn’t help but roll my eyes back, your walls clenching around him, your walls near your cervix finally being touched.

Wooyoung's gaze locks onto your face, his eyes intense as he watches you react to him thrusting inside you. He pauses, giving you a moment to adjust to his size before pulling almost out, only the head of his cock remaining inside you. You feel your walls clench around nothing making your heart race in desperation. Wooyoung's lips quirk at the corners as he sees your desperate need. Taking pity on you, he pushes back inside, filling you once more. This time, he sets a rhythm, thrusting in and out of you with deep, powerful strokes. "Breathe, baby," he insists as he watches you hold your breath. “Holy fuck,” you moan trying to keep your composure. "Keep moaning for me," he demands watching you come undone in front of him.

“Wooyoung, augh-” you moan out gibberish your mind completely spiraling with each thrust. You lay your back flat on the desk not being able to hold yourself up anymore. Your body feels weak as you focus all of your energy on clenching around him. Wooyoung's eyes flash with excitement as he sees you surrender to his touch. He leans forward, "Give in, baby. Give into me," he whispers, his words pulling you over the edge. “I- aaaugh,” you moan in desperation gripping his arm and clawing slightly. Wooyoung's grip on your hips tightens as he senses your impending orgasm. He thrusts harder, faster, his cock pounding into you recklessly. "You look so sexy like this baby," he growls, his voice laced with urgency, his pleasure building with each passing second.

“Fuck-” you breathe as he goes faster, you trail your fingers down to your clit and start to rub. Your walls twitch as you get closer. Wooyoung watches you with intense focus, his climax rapidly approaching as he feels your walls begin to flutter around his cock. He reaches down, capturing your hand in his and forcing it away from your clit, his voice a low, dominant command. "No, baby. I'll decide when you come," You whimper looking up at him with pleading eyes, “Please-” Wooyoung's gaze is unwavering as he pins you beneath him, his thumb finding your clit and applying firm pressure. His hips ram into you, his cock driving deeper with each stroke. "When I say so, baby. Not a moment before,"

“Shit shit shit shit shit-” you moan trying your best to hold back from exploding around him. Wooyoung's eyes darken with lust as he sees how close you are. He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "I can feel you teetering, baby. Hold on just a bit longer." You reach for his head, gripping his hair tightly as you feel your walls quiver around him. Wooyoung's head jerks back slightly as you grasp his hair, his eyes flashing with a spark of pleasure. He hisses, his cock surging forward in response to your tightening walls. "Good girl," he breathes. "Now, come for me."

“Mmmmm Wooyoung!” you yell as you feel the knot in your core pop. You feel myself squirt all over his dick and stomach causing it to trail down onto his desk. Wooyoung's eyes roll back as he feels your pussy clench and pulse around him, your juices soaking his cock and belly. With a guttural groan, he buries himself into your soaked core and lets go, his orgasm washing over him in intense waves. "FUCK!" He drops down and nuzzles his face into the crock of your neck. Wooyoung's arms wrap around you, holding you close as your orgasm continues. His own breathing is heavy and labored, his muscles tense with aftershocks. You continue to shake involuntarily, holding onto him for support. "Easy now," he murmurs gently, his lips brushing against your neck as he whispers soothing words.

“Mmmm holy shit.” you gasp, trying to calm yourself down from your intense orgasm. "Did you enjoy that?" Wooyoung asks, his voice still shaky from exertion. He presses a tender kiss to your forehead before slowly pulling out of you, his softened cock slipping free with a wet, slick sound. “Yes… a lot,” you said shyly as his cum starts to leak out of your core. A satisfied smirk tugs at the corner of Wooyoung's lips as he sees the result of his hard work. "Good girl," he praises, causing your cheeks to flush a light shade of red. He then reached down to gently wipe away the excess with his fingers before sucking them clean. "I'll take care of you now." Your eyes then open wide as you see him lick up a combination of my juices and his cum off his fingers. Wooyoung's gaze locks onto yours, his eyes burning with a sensual intensity as he savors the taste. A hint of amusement plays on his lips as if he knows exactly how his actions are affecting you. "Mm, you taste amazing," he whispers.

Your pussy twitches at his words causing more of his cum to leak out of your core. Wooyoung's eyes darken with renewed interest at the sight of his release dripping from your still-sensitive core. He leans in, his tongue darting out to lick the trail of his cum from your inner thigh to your glistening pussy lips. "Delicious," he murmurs approvingly. You whimper and bite your lip in desperation. “Can we please… go another round?” Hearing your desperate plea, Wooyoung's eyes glint with desire. He moves between your legs, his cock twitching as he teases your entrance. "You want more, hm?" he teases, slowly pushing inside you. "Y-yes.” you moan, looking into his eyes and biting your lip.

Wooyoung's expression softens slightly at your eager response. He grips your hips possessively as he thrusts the rest of the way in, his thick length stretching you once again. "Wrap your legs around me, baby," he instructs gently, his voice belaying the dominance of his actions. “Fuck-” you breathe, wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him deeper inside you. "I'm going to take you nice and slow this time, so I can watch you fall apart." His fingers dig into your soft skin, holding you close as he begins to move. His thrusts are slow and deliberate, each one causing you to moan in pleasure as he fills you completely. "That's right," he moans as you both look each other in the eyes. “Oh my god, that feels so good baby,” you moan rubbing your hand against his forearm. He leans down, his forehead pressed against yours as he continues his slow, deep thrusts. "You like that, don't you?" he murmurs against your lips. "You like feeling me inside you, stretching you, claiming you?"

“Yes, oh god yes,” you breathe, looking into his eyes. He leans in, capturing your mouth in a searing kiss as he increases the pace of his thrusts. His tongue tangles with yours, the movement mirroring the deep, claiming strokes of his cock inside you. You run your hand along his back gently clawing as he thrust into you. Wooyoung groans into the kiss, his body tensing as your nails dig into his skin. He breaks the kiss, panting heavily as he looks down at you with a fierce, possessive gaze. "Mine," he growls, his hips snapping forward in a harder, more demanding thrust. “Yours,” you breathed looking at him with half-lidded eyes. His face flashes with satisfaction at your surrender, and he thrust deeper, his cock stroking a spot that makes you spiral. "Always mine," he repeats, his voice low and menacing, as if daring anyone to try and take you from him, "Forever."

“Forever” you repeat, your eyebrows scrunching together in pleasure. Wooyoung's thrusts become erratic as the promise of forever sends him spiraling toward release. His cock swells inside you, and he groans deeply as he empties himself, filling you with his seed. "Forever," he repeats again and again, like a mantra. You start to rub his back as he comes down from his high. “Together forever,” you whispered in his ear. Wooyoung shivers at your whispered words, his body still trembling with aftershocks of pleasure. He turns his head, nuzzling his face into your neck as he wraps his arms around you protectively. "Always," he agrees, his voice rough with emotion. "Together, always." A tear starts to fall from your face knowing that Wooyoung finally sees me as his wife..

Wooyoung feels the tear come down on his cheek and he removes himself from your neck to look at you. His eyes soften as he notices the tear, and his gaze follows it as it rolls down your cheek. He gently wipes it away with his thumb, his touch tender. "My wife," he whispers, his voice filled with a deep affection, "my love." You pout as more tears start to stream down your cheeks, “I’m sorry I don’t mean to cry.” Wooyoung shakes his head, a small smile gracing his lips. "Don’t apologize," he murmurs, kissing your forehead softly. "Your tears are precious to me." His thumb continues to gently stroke your cheek as he holds you close, offering comfort and reassurance. You press your head closer to his hand, wanting his touch to be closer to you.

Wooyoung's smile widens, and his eyes crinkle at the corners as he gazes at you with warmth. He leans in, his lips brushing against your forehead in a gentle, tender kiss. "You are precious to me," he whispers. "You’re all I’ve ever wanted Wooyoung” you respond, caressing his shoulder. Wooyoung's eyes flutter closed, and he takes a deep breath as if savoring the words. His fingers tighten around you, pulling you closer as he buries his face in the curve of your neck. "And you, my love," he whispers, his voice filled with emotion. “I’m so happy right now,” you smile. Wooyoung's face relaxes, and he exhales a contented sigh, his body melting into yours as he lets go of all reserve. His arms wrap tightly around you, holding you close as he nuzzles his head deeper into the curve of your neck. "I am happy too."

“I- I love you Wooyoung.” you express another tear falling down your face. Wooyoung's eyes snap open, and he lifts his head to gaze at you with an intensity that makes your heart skip a beat. His face is etched with vulnerability, his voice barely above a whisper. "I love you too," he says, his words dripping with sincerity.

You giggle and move his hair out of his face. “We should get cleaned up. We made a huge mess on your desk.” Wooyoung's gaze lingers on yours, his eyes softening with affection before he nods and stands up, pulling you with him. He looks down at the mess on his desk and lets out a low chuckle. "I suppose we did," he says, his voice tinged with amusement. He carries you to the bathroom, turns on the shower, and you both get in together. As the warm water cascades down on you, Wooyoung wraps his arms around you, holding you close as he gently washes away the remnants of the passionate encounter. His hands move with a tender touch, his fingers tracing the curves of your body as he cleans you. "You know," he says suddenly. “Hmm?” you ask opening your eyes. Wooyoung's eyes lock onto yours, his gaze intimate as he continues. "I think I'm falling for you." He pauses, his chest rising with a deep breath as he searches your face for a reaction. "Hard."

“Now you see how I feel my love.” you giggle turning around and pressing your head against his chest. Wooyoung's arms tighten around you, holding you close as he rests his head on top of yours, inhaling deeply. He lets out a soft sigh, his body relaxing into the embrace as he whispers "My love," He kisses the top of your head, his lips gentle and adoring. Wooyoung's lips curve into a soft smile as he speaks, his voice filled with a warmth that's rarely seen. "I never thought I'd find someone like you. You're different. You make me feel" He pauses, his words trailing off as he searches for the right phrase. His gaze drifts downward, his eyes locking onto yours as he continues, his voice barely above a whisper. "Human." He says the word as if it's a revelation, a subtle tremble in his hand as he strokes your hair.

Your eyes soften as you look at him with adoration. “Of course baby.” You get on your tippy toes and lay a soft kiss on his lips. Wooyoung's eyes flutter closed as your lips touch his, a soft sigh escaping him as he savors the gentle kiss. He deepens the kiss, his lips moving slowly and sweetly against yours, his arms tightening around you to pull you closer. “You’re my special human,” you cooed between the kiss. Wooyoung chuckles, his lips still moving against yours as he responds. "You're my everything," he whispers, his words muffled by the kiss.

“No, you’re my everything.” you giggle and smile into the kiss. Wooyoung's smile mirrors yours, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he pulls back slightly, his lips brushing against yours in a gentle, tender motion. "I think we can agree on that," he says, smiling warmly. You giggle and press your forehead on top of his, looking into his eyes. Wooyoung's gaze holds yours, his eyes darkening with emotion as he searches for words to express the depth of his feelings. "You're the only one who's ever seen me, truly seen me," he whispers, his voice trembling with vulnerability. “Oh Wooyoung.” you coo, rubbing his body to soothe his emotions.

Wooyoung's eyes flutter closed, his face tilting into the gentle touch, a soft sigh escaping his lips as he relaxes into your embrace. "You're my safe haven," he whispers, his voice barely audible, as if the words are being torn from the depths of his soul. “You’re mine as well baby.” you express continuing to rub him. Wooyoung's arms wrap around you, pulling you close as he buries his face in the curve of your neck, "I don't deserve you."

“Trust me baby you deserve me. The most stubborn individuals always need their small adoring fairy.” You kiss his cheek and rub his head. A soft, husky laugh escapes Wooyoung's lips as he nuzzles his face deeper into the crook of your neck, his arms tightening around you. "You're the only one who can tame me, little fairy," he whispers, his voice laced with affection and gratitude. You giggle, “And now I have a stubborn man that I have to take care of. But I don’t mind at all.” Wooyoung's eyes sparkle with amusement, a small smile playing on his lips as he pulls back to gaze at you, his face soft and affectionate. "You're stuck with me, little one,"

“I know, forever.” you chuckle, pressing a kiss on his lips. Wooyoung's lips curve upwards, meeting yours in a gentle, tender kiss, as if savoring the promise of forever. "Forever," he whispers, his voice filled with conviction, his eyes locking onto yours, shining with a deep, abiding love.

#ateez #atiny #kpop #wooyoung #ateez wooyoung #wooyoung smut #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung angst #wooyoung fanfic #ateez fanfic #ateez smut #ateez angst

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daydreams-after-dark · 2 months ago

Text

Good things come in small packages Part 2

Part 1 | Part 2

Pairing: Mini Han x fem reader

Synopsis: One year ago you purchased a ‘miniature companion’ named Hannie. He’s the size of a Ken doll but alive and horny. But something unexpected happens on your one year anniversary.

Word count: approx 7.4 k

A/n: SURPRISE!!! I know I said this was being released approx next Monday, but.... I wrote it quicker than I expected. I want to thank you for your patience with this installment. There was a point there where I almost didn't have it in me to write it. But your words of encouragement helped spur me on.

I hope that you enjoy part two of this fic. There's a lot of emotions, sickly sweet moments, and a surprise character features too.

CW below the cut

C/W: unprotected p in v sex, oral sex, rough sex, angst, brief themes of depression, fear of suicide (just a fleeting thought), size kink?

Previously:

"Hannie?" You whisper, lowering the lamp, letting it drop to the floor.

"Why is everything so small? Wait. Why am I naked? Noona, have you been playing with me in my sleep?" He looks up at you confused and worried. "Noona, why are you looking at me like that?"

His eyes land on his pajamas, torn to shreds next to him. He picks up the scrap of fabric that was his pajama top, and his eyes widen. "Why are my clothes so tiny?"

"Hannie," you take in the man before you, naked and taking up most of the bed. "You're big."

------------

Han just stares at you blankly. Then realization hits him, causing him to spring out of bed and look around the room frantically.

"Hannie?" You say again. "Hannie, look at me." You take a step closer to him and he finally looks at you. It's as though your gaze anchors him and he appears to calm down somewhat. His eyes soften and he looks at you like he's looking at you for the very first time, just as you are with him.

You already know he has an incredible physique. Broad shoulders, slim waist, toned muscles. But standing before you right now he’s breathtaking. But you don't love him for his body. You love him for his heart.

Standing fully naked in front of you, he seems less real than when he was small. How can this be happening? It's impossible. Right?

"Noona?" His eyes drop to where your gaze has fallen. Right on his cock, still semi hard from his morning wood. It's the most delicious thing you've ever seen. So much bigger than you expected too. You can't help but imagine all the things you want to do with it. You have imagined it plenty over the past year. How you want him to fill you up, or make you choke on it. How it tastes. How it feels in your mouth.

"Hey!" he covers himself with his hands. "I'm going through a crisis and you're staring at my dick!" He exasperates. He narrows his eyes. "Oh my God, Noona? You know what this means?" His eyes light up with excitement.

"I do, Han. Trust me, I know. But first we need to figure out what is going on. Why this has happened." You take another step towards him, closing the distance, and with shaking hands you reach out and touch his chest. You feel his heart pounding and it makes your heart beat faster too.

He's real.

"Do you think my wish has finally come true?" he whispers. "I wish it every night before I fall asleep. That I'd wake up and be human sized."

You look up to meet his gaze. His gorgeous big brown eyes. "I wish it every night too. It's just... this doesn’t make any sense.” You pause. “Wait. The manual. Maybe it says something in that?”

Without giving him any warning, you snap into action and disappear into your walk-in wardrobe, returning with a pair of sweatpants and an oversized tee.

"Here. Put these on. I can't be getting distracted." You say and hurry out of the bedroom.

----------

"I thought you said you'd studied the manual?" Han says suspiciously whilst chewing on the scrambled eggs and toast you quickly cooked for him. You were quite happy to forgo your breakfast so you could search for answers, but his stomach rumbled so loudly you couldn’t ignore it.

While he scoffs down his breakfast, and you're still in your pajamas, you pore over the instruction manual spread open on the dining table, looking for any information that might help.

"Well... I kind of only read about how to keep you alive. You know, like how often I needed to feed and water you." you reply casually. Inside, you wish you had read the rest of the information. Maybe you would have had a heads up about this and you could have prepared yourself?

"Do you think I'm going to be like this permanently? Like the first year was a test of your commitment or something? Maybe I could learn guitar? Or cook? Or-"

"Okay. I've got something." You interrupt. "It says here: At twelve months of ownership, your companion will transform into typical human size-"

Han's eyes light up excitedly. "Wait! So this means?"

You hold up your hand to hush him. "There's more." You say. "He will remain in this state for 48 hours, before returning to his original size."

“Oh.” Han’s fork clatters on his plate. You look up at him as his expression changes from excited and hopeful, to absolutely crestfallen and deflated.

"I'm so sorry, Hannie." you whisper. You know how badly he wants to be big. You watch as he swallows a lump in his throat, and without a word, he stands and walks into the kitchen to look out of the window above the sink.

————

Forty eight hours? So It's not permanent? What kind of fucking idiot is he to think he'd ever be able to be a human? He tries to fight back the tears as he looks out of the window.

It's a beautiful, sunny morning, and usually on a day like this he'd climb up onto the windowsill and watch the world. There's a little strip of shops across the street that he especially loves to watch. His favorite is the flower shop. Observing the customers going in and out buying flowers and bouquets for loved ones. They’re such pretty colors too, the flowers. He’d love to be able to buy flowers for you.

A lady about your age works there, and sometimes another man is there too. Han doesn’t see him there often, but knows he’s someone special the way the shop owner and him look at and hold each other. Maybe he travels for work? He's often wondered as he sits on the windowsill.

He's broken from his thoughts when he feels your arms wrap around his waist and you lean against his back. His eyes close softly, and his body relaxes as he savors the feeling of being embraced in this way for the first time.

"Hannie, I know we don't have long, but maybe if we see it as a gift?"

He turns in your arms to face you, and wraps his own arms around you. You feel so good like this. In his arms. Holding so much of you in one go. Feeling your entire body pressed against his. It's better than he ever imagined.

"You're right." He says finally. "We can't waste a minute of this precious time. There's so much I have to do to you." His dick twitches when he sees your cheeks flush. He knows you're not shy, but if you feel anything like he does right now, then you’d have to be trembling on the inside.

His hand slides up to hold your jaw tenderly as he brings his lips close to yours. Sure he's kissed you, parts of your lips - both sets even, and other parts of your skin. But your lips in their entirety? He feels so scared, so nervous. What if he's a shit kisser?

"Stop thinking, Han Jisung." You say and connect your lips to his.

His lips fit yours perfectly and he melts into them with a moan. He kisses you slowly and carefully and a warmth spreads throughout his body. He hardens immediately when he feels your tongue slip into his mouth to find his. Your tongue, the one that’s licked his entire torso in one sweep, is currently inside his mouth.

He allows his hands to wander lower to cup your ass. He loves your ass and often stares at it when you're doing housework in your tight little exercise shorts. Another moan escapes him when he pulls you even closer against his body. Touching so many parts of you all at once has him feeling overwhelmed in the best way possible. What will it be like when he’s inside you as well? He has to know.

He lowers his hands a little more to lift you up and you wrap your legs around his. Then he’s carrying you - actually carrying you - to your bedroom.

Your room is still filled with the warm sunlight, and Han is glad because he’ll be able to see absolutely everything. He lays you gently on the bed and kisses you deeply, then sits up to kneel between your parted legs.

“I think these need to come off.” He announces, flicking the waistband of your pajama shorts.

You smirk. “You do, huh?”

“Yes. We need to be naked.” He starts tugging off your clothes, then his own.

You look stunning beneath him, and you feel the same way about him. The sunlight hits his honey skin perfectly and you feel a surge of love for the man above you.

This is actually happening, is the thought going through both your heads.

Han gulps as he drinks you in with his eyes. Where to begin? He decides to start with your breasts. Holding them in his hands, massaging them. He loves the pretty noises you’re making as he kneads them. He leans over to take a nipple in his mouth, flicking the tiny pebbled nub that he normally has to stretch his mouth around. It goes straight to his dick and he can’t help but grind his cock against your core. This is too much already. He sits back up between your legs to try and regain his composure. He doesn’t want the first time he has intercourse to be over before it begins. To bide some time, he slowly runs his hands down your stomach and massages the tops of your thighs while his eyes lock onto your pussy. Home.

His favorite thing in the world is to eat you out, and he’s excited to taste you. Firstly, though, he is dying to explore you with his fingers. He drags his thumbs through your folds. “Wet for me as usual, Noona.” He states, glancing up to see your flushed cheeks. He chuckles to himself knowing how flustered he’s making you.

“Hannie…always soaked for you.” You say with a breathlessness to your voice.

He rubs circles on your clit with his thumb whilst using his other hand to spread you wide.

“I need your fingers inside me, Hannie.” you wiggle your hips to give him the hint.

“Like this?” He asks innocently as he slips two fingers into you. You moan in relief, making him smirk again.You’re so tight just around his fingers that he can’t imagine how you are going to fit his cock. He partially withdraws his fingers then pushes them back into your warm, wet, cunt. He repeats this a few times, your moans and ‘yes’s urging him to go a little harder, a little deeper. He remembers watching you finger fuck yourself and that there’s a spot inside you that when you stimulate it makes you come. He needs to try it.

He angles his fingers a little differently and fucks you with his hand. The response is immediate. Your pussy begins to make those lewd, but arousing sounds, that he has heard when you’ve made yourself cum on your dildo. Your back arches off the bed and your thighs start to tremble. He knows the signs of you having an orgasm. He’s made you come so many times. But not like this. He leans over you to slide his tongue into your mouth, capturing the moans from your orgasm while his fingers work you through it until you’ve settled back to earth. Stunning. Erotic. Perfect. That’s what you are to him right now.

Now he can eat you out. Lick up all that arousal leaking from your delectable pussy. He nestles between your legs, his agonizingly hard cock squashed between his stomach and the mattress. He knows it’s leaking all over your quilt.

Firmly holding your thighs apart, he licks a long stripe from your vagina to clit. You taste perfect. He is careful not to go too hard or too rough. When he’s tiny he needs to use all his energy and strength to get you off, but right now even the most delicate of licks or suckles has you whimpering for him.

He spits on your clit and then sucks it off. Then moves lower to slip his tongue inside you. He has to hold you still as another orgasm starts to build for you. He loves making you feel this way.

He needs to make you come again, so he slips a finger into your pussy while he laps at your clit. He feels you come on his face, shaking, quivering, covering him in your juices. Yep. Still his favorite thing to do.

He removes himself from between your legs to hover over you to take you in an urgent kiss, smearing your arousal all over your lips. His dick throbs.

“Hannie,” you pull away from the kiss. “I really need you inside me. I need it so much it hurts.” You look up at him with desperate eyes.

“Me too, Noona.” He gulps. He’s so fucking scared and hopes you don’t notice.

“Are you nervous?” You reach up and stroke his cheek.

Of course you noticed it. You always know how he feels. He nods. “Yeah. I am actually. I am a virgin you know?” He chuckles awkwardly, like you didn’t know he’d never actually fucked before.

You wrap your arms around the back of his neck and pull him close. “It’s okay. I’ve got you. Just let it slip in. Dicks usually find a way into a pussy.” You whisper in his ear.

He trusts you and grinds the length of his cock against your slipper pussy. It’s already beyond incredible feeling your soft skin against his obscenely hard cock. You both moan equally in pleasure and the frustration of needing more, so he shifts his hips to allow the tip of his cock to prod at you.

“Yes!” You cry out against his ear. “Fuck…Hannie…need you. It’s so close…”

All it takes is a slight adjustment of the angle of his hips and he feels the tip slip inside you.

“Please…hurry.” You sob. “I love you so much, Hannie.”

“I love you too, Noona.” he says with a shaky breath, and then he’s inside you. All the way to the hilt. You both moan in relief.

“You’re so tight.” he declares, his eyes rolling back into his head. He’s not going to last even a thrust. It’s already too good. But he begins to move anyway, eventually finding a slow, deep rhythm.

He was wrong. This is his most favorite thing to do. Be buried in your pussy, with your arms and legs wrapped around him as you moan his name over and over. Definitely his favorite.

“Faster…please… harder…oh Hannie…fuck.” You claw at his back trying to pull him even deeper. He obliges, picking up the pace, fucking you harder. He kneels between your legs again so he can see all of you. The sight is erotic. Seeing all of you at once, with your legs folded and pushed up high and wide. Your breasts bouncing with every thrust. And the expression on your face as you look down at where you’re connected almost makes him fill you right then and there.

“I’m coming, Hannie… I’m…don’t stop! Come with me. Come inside me!” You’re already trembling beneath him, and there’s no way in hell he’d be able to stop himself coming inside you even if he wanted to. He’s about to burst. Not just his cock, but his heart too. He loves you too much. He takes his thumb back to your clit and focuses on bringing you over the edge. He feels your walls squeeze tight around him like a vice, and it sends him over as well. With a few last shaky thrusts, he releases himself inside of you with a deep moan.

“Noona… Fuck…” he pants and collapses on top of you. “That was the best feeling in the whole world. I don’t know how anyone gets anything done when they could be doing that!”

—-----------

The day passes far too quickly as you fill the rest of the day with lovemaking, food, drinks, and even more lovemaking. You both don't want to miss a single moment of each other. Night comes too quickly, and despite trying your best to stay awake, sleep eventually takes you both as you lay in his arms.

-----------

The sun streams through the window waking you from your sleep. You feel Han's arm laying heavy across your waist. It wasn't a dream. Your eyes snap open to find him fast asleep, mouth open, and still very much human size.

You watch him until he finally stirs and opens his eyes. "Am I still big? Are we still naked?" He asks sleepily.

You grin in response. "Yes. You're still big. And we’re still naked. " You lean down and kiss his cheek.

"So we can have more sex today?" he adds, rubbing his eyes.

"Anything you want, my love." You say and let your hand wander down to rest on his erect cock. Flicking the sheet off of him, you begin to kiss your way down his body, savoring every inch of his skin, ensuring you remember this moment forever. You pause when you reach his cock, admiring the way it looks. Fucking perfect. Mouthwatering. You waste no time taking him in your hand and bringing your tongue to the underside of his shaft.

He releases a sharp breath. “Fuck, Noona. Please…are you gonna suck me off? Please suck my cock, Noona.” he begs, lifting his head and looking down at you. You give him a sly look and swirl your tongue around the tip, and he throws his head back down onto the pillow, surrendering to you and your plans.

You take your time teasing him, alternating between kitten licks to the tip, to long languid strokes of your tongue along the shaft. His breathless pants turn to whimpers, then finally a deep, relieving groan as you sink your mouth over him. You take as much of him into your throat as you possibly can, and even though your eyes start to water, you take him even deeper.

“Baby, Noona…This is…your mouth… How can you even breathe right now?” He can barely get the words out. “So good… ngh…s’good.” he squeezes his eyes closed trying his hardest not to thrust into you. His hands thread through your hair and rest on the back of your head. You hope he pushes you down further so you take absolutely everything, and when he does, you feel your cunt tighten and your arousal leaking between your legs.

Your lips are pressed to his pelvis and he isn’t letting you go. You are finding it hard to breathe, but you don’t care. You want more. You feel him getting close when his cock hardens even more and he starts thrusting into your throat. Yes. This is what you need.

Han gets noisier as he approaches his climax, then you feel it. The familiar taste of his hot cum hits the back of your throat. He cries out then stills, releasing his hands from your head and relaxing into the bed.

As usual, you swallow every last drop. There is so much more compared to normal, the fluid coating the back of your mouth, then you make your way up to kiss his lips.

Han grins at you with hooded eyes. “Fuck, Noona! That was so fucking goog.”

“You don’t know how many times I’ve pictured doing that for you, Hannie.” You smile and curl up to his side.

“Noona?” he says, stroking your arm.

“Mmm. Yes my love?” you hum.

“Do you think…after we fuck again, we can go out? There’s something I want to do.”

You turn your head to gaze at him. “Of course. Anything you want, my love.” you say again, but this time with a curious tone.

-----------

"Are you sure I don’t look weird?" Han isn't convinced that the sweatpants and tee you have given him are gender neutral.

"You're fine, I promise. Just trust me?" You reply, locking your front door. You take his hand in yours and begin to up your front path. As you reach the sidewalk, he begins to have second thoughts. Sure he's been out of the house with you before. In your handbag, hidden away. Safe. Unseen. Maybe this isn't a good idea after all, he thinks to himself. Maybe he shouldn't have such lofty ideas? But he's not going to have another opportunity to do this. So he has to be brave.

“”What would you like to do, Hannie?”

“There’s something I’ve thought about doing for a while now. Buy you flowers.” He gestures to the flower shop across from your home.

Your eyes light up and a smile washes over your features. “I’d absolutely love that!” You squeeze his hand and look up at him. “I love you Hannie.” You say and kiss him on the lips.

“Noona, y-you can’t do that!” He stutters.

“Do what, sweetie?” You tease, and kiss him again. This time a little longer.

He pushes you away gently. “You’re getting me hard.” He whispers sternly and looks around to make sure no one can notice.

“Okay, Han. No public display of affection. Got it.” You pinch his chubby cheek.

The flower shop isn't very big, but it manages to accommodate so many flowers and bouquets that fill every corner and surface. Han takes in the floral scents, and the vibrancy of the colors, and smiles when his eyes land on what he's looking for.

"Can I help you with anything?" the shop owner asks cheerfully.

"Yes, can I please have the bouquet of purple tulips?" he says proudly.

The owner, who's name tag says 'Jules', takes the bouquet back to the counter to ring up the price. "That will be $60."

That's right. He has no money. He closes his eyes for a moment, berating himself. Of course he can't pay. He has no bank account. No identification. He's not a citizen of... anywhere really. He's an alien.

"That's okay, I've got it. He forgot his wallet today." You step in from out of nowhere and take care of paying for the flowers.

Ashamed by his inadequacy, Han steps away from the counter, and busies himself by looking at the corner with some potted houseplants. He quite likes the houseplants you own, often sitting underneath the leaves pretending to be somewhere outdoors. He chuckles to himself at how silly that sounds when movement behind one of the pot plants catches his eye.

Intrigued, he crouches down and ever so slowly nudges one of the plants to the side. His eyes widen and he almost stumbles backward when he sees a little man, the size of a Ken doll, looking up at him.

The same man that he’s seen kissing and holding Jules the shop owner multiple times.

Han blinks, not believing what he is seeing, but when he opens his eyes the little man is gone. Where did he go? Did he imagine it? He starts shifting plant pots around, desperately trying to find him.

"Hannie. I'm done now." you call to him from the shop entrance.

----------

"Hannie, what's wrong?" You ask as you both step outside onto the sidewalk. "Is it about paying for these?" You hold up the tulips.

"No, Noona. It's not that." He turns to look back at the shop.

"Han? You look like you've seen a ghost. Are you okay? Are you feeling okay?" You press your hand to his forehead. Sweaty and warm. Is he getting sick?

"I'm fine. Just... the forty eight hours are coming to an end tonight." He frowns.

You drop your head. You have been trying your best not to think about it. Today was so perfect, spending time with Han like a proper couple. It felt so heartwarming watching him with his big, curious eyes as he interacted with his surroundings.

You take a deep breath, inhaling the scent of the flowers. "What made you choose these?" you ask him curiously.

"Well," He starts, as you begin to walk back towards your home. "From what I read on the internet they are a symbol of perfect love." He smiles sheepishly. "It also said that they symbolize rebirth, as well as being known to help us let go of the past and embrace the future with renewed optimism and hope." he adds, proud to have remembered the details he'd read.

"I think that sounds perfect." You smile warmly and kiss him on the cheek.

---------------

Dinner is a quiet affair. The quietest it’s ever been. Usually at dinner time you share your day with each other, listening intently, offering advice or support, or whatever each of you needed that night. Tonight you’re both thinking about the same thing. That your time together like this is coming to an end. Neither of you want to talk about the elephant in the room, so you both stay silent.

After a while you see Han set his knife and fork on his plate and stand up, walking around to your side of the table. You look up at him and he offers his hand out to you. Wordlessy, you take it and let him lead you to your bedroom.

He’s not gentle as he pushes you down onto the mattress and practically rips your clothes off before climbing on top of you and taking you in a rough, heated kiss. He shoves his tongue past your lips and you thread your fingers through his hair to pull him into an even deeper, even more feral kiss. He pulls away only to remove his own garments, then he forces your legs apart so he can line his cock up to your entrance.

Without any preparation, or warning, he pushes the entire length of his cock into you in one go. You cry out at the intrusion, but part your legs further. You need him inside you, to consume you.

He’s careless with his thrusts, and his hands grope and squeeze, bruising your flesh. There’s a look of anger and resentment in his eyes. You know it’s not because of you, but at this whole situation. It feels so unfair to have a glimpse of how life could be, and know that it’s never going to be like this again. You love Hannie no matter what. But this feels so good too. Why? Why let you experience this, only to have torn away so quickly?

“Are you gonna remember me like this forever, Noona? How full I make you? How deep inside you I am? How hard I can fuck you?” He growls. “Tell me. Tell me you’ll never forget it. Cos I’m never going to forget how your pussy feels around me. Squeezing me tight. Tell me I’m your favorite. Tell me I feel better than anyone before me.”

Han’s words are aggressive, and so is the way he’s fucking you. But his voice is full of heartbreak and angst. You want him to give you everything. His sadness, his anger, you want him to take it out on you.

He thrusts his hips even harder against your body, and his cock slams into your cervix, causing you to cry out his name.

“Hannie!” You choke. He doesn’t slow down or go easy on you. You can barely breathe.

“Say it… please…Tell me your mine.” he sobs, but he doesn’t slow down.

“I’m yours, Hannie…forever.” you whimper.

He leans down over you, caging you underneath him. “Come for me. Come on my cock.” He growls, his hot breath against your ear. “I wanna feel your pussy choke me one last time.”

It’s too much and you come hard around him, sobbing against his shoulder.

“That’s it…Yes…Fuck! I’m coming too!” He grunts as he thrusts his hips a few more times and empties himself inside you.

You stay like this for a while. Breathless and sweating. Eventually, he lifts his head and looks down on you. “Did I hurt you?” He asks with a concerned expression.

You shake your head. “It was passionate. I needed you to fuck me like that.” You sigh. He closes his eyes softly in relief, then withdraws his softened cock from you.

Neither of you move to clean up, or even get a drink, or even say another word. You simply lay in the comfort of each other’s arms as though the world was about to end.

---------

You fall asleep first, but Han can't sleep. He doesn't want to sleep. So he watches you sleep instead. He cups your cheek. He needs to burn the image of this into his brain, for tomorrow his hand will barely be able to wrap around your pinky finger. These past forty eight hours were a dream come true, but he’s not sure how he’ll get over it either.

-------------

You wake to find your bed empty. "Han?" You call out and search the bed, lifting the blankets. Sometimes he ends up tangled in them, but he isn't there.

You hop out of bed, slip on your robe and head out into the kitchen. You find him sitting on the windowsill above the sink. Small as ever. You feel a sadness in your chest and bite your lip as you approach him. "Hannie?" You say softly, leaning your arms on the counter next to the sink so your face is close to him.

"I'm okay Noona." he sighs, but doesn't turn to face you.

"You want me to fix you some breakfast before I go to work?" You ask hopefully, but he shakes his head.

The usual conversation that you have when you get ready for work is replaced with a heavy, awkward silence.

"You know, Hannie, you are perfect to me no matter what. Your personality, your heart - it’s bigger than that of any man in the world.” You say as you turn to leave the kitchen and head out the front door for work.

--------------

Han hasn’t left the windowsill in days. He hasn’t washed, he's barely eaten. The spark you love so much in him has dimmed, and you’re frightened that it won't come back. It's not like you can get him therapy. No one knows about him. No one can know about him.

Every day you leave for work not knowing what you'll find when you return home. What if he’s left? What if he's-" No you won't let yourself even go there.

Those forty eight hours of him being big was not worth it, and if you could take it back and go back to how things were before, you'd do it in a heartbeat. You just want your Hannie back.

--------------

Han knows you love him. But he can't help but feel depressed. He feels worse now than he has ever felt in his entire, albeit short, life. It's like him becoming big was some sick, cruel joke. Like it was to taunt him. To show him how good it could really be, how good it could really feel, to be a human, just to snatch it away from him.

It isn't just depression that's consuming him. It's an obsession with the flower shop and that little man he had seen that day.

For ten days now he’s stared at the shop hoping to catch a glimpse of...something... anything that might give him answers or closure. They know something. He can feel it.

Then finally it happens. Han hurries to a kneeling position, face pressed against the glass to catch a better look.

The man is back. As a human sized man. Han guesses he's seen this man maybe four times over as many months. He stands in the doorway waving to a customer before going back into the shop. It definitely looks like the little guy he saw standing by the pot plant.

You probably imagined it. You were probably over excited from the sex with Noona. Can sex make you hallucinate? Han isn't sure of anything anymore. Except that the miniature man was either imaginary, or, he has the answers Han's looking for.

-------------------

You leave work early and pick up a cheesecake. Han hasn’t eaten in days and you hope his favorite dessert might perk him up a little bit, even if it’s just a sugar rush.

You open your front door kicking your shoes off, and make your way upstairs to your main living area. The house is eerily quiet, even with a depressed Han it's too quiet. Something is off. Something is wrong.

“Hannie?” You call out. No answer. You place the cheesecake box on the counter. He’s not on his windowsill. Maybe he’s asleep somewhere? You check your bedroom next. He isn’t there either. You search every room, calling out his name.

Nothing.

He’s gone. He’s actually gone! Why? Why would he leave? Where would he go? What if he’s hurt? What if he’s - you gulp. You start to panic and begin to check everywhere again. Maybe he fell into a drawer? Maybe he’s stuck somewhere?

Again, nothing.

He really was gone.

—-----------

Han has never ventured out of the house by himself before. Well this month has been full of firsts, he thinks. Why not climb down the stairs and sneak out of a slightly ajar window?

He jumps down from the window sill and tumbles into the garden, surprisingly unscathed. He is on a mission and nothing is going to stop him.

Determination takes over any fear of being eaten by the neighbors cat, or being runover by a car, as he carefully treks across the road to the flower shop.

He hasn't even planned what he’s going to say. What if he's mistaken and the owner faints? What if she kills him? Or kidnaps him? Tortures him? No. He shakes his head. The lady was really nice the other day. People love to go to her shop. It'll be fine.

By the time Han reaches the threshold he is hot, sweaty and very thirsty. He looks up to looming doorway and swallows hard. Here goes nothing.

He slips inside, carefully seeking the cover of a nearby flower pot. The shop looks gigantic compared to last time he was there.

He notices something that he missed the last time. That the entire shop is set up suspiciously accessible for him. Like it was made for someone his size. Strings from buntings and signs dangle in such a way that Han would be able to reach just about any shelf he wished. Some shelves look to have mini rope ladders, and there seems to be plenty of places to hide and watch customers, or your Noona.

He quickly climbs up one of the rope ladders where he can get a better view of the sales counter. Jules is there finishing serving a customer. But where is the man?

Han doesn’t have to wait for long. The man emerges from a back storeroom with a gift bag for the customer.

“Oh Minho! You’re back in town!” The customer exclaims in a high pitch voice. “How was your work trip?” She gives this Minho a kiss on the cheek.

“Adventurous as usual.” He winks at her.

“Well it’s good to see you.” She takes her flowers and gift bag, smiling as she leaves the shop.

“Take care Mrs Maple!” Minho waves after her then turns to Jules. “Finally, I’ve got you alone, kitten.” He smirks and closes the gap between them. “Maybe we could close up for lunch? Head back into the storeroom?” He kisses her neck.

“You’re always so horny, Minho.” She teases. “Don’t think I don’t know you masturbate behind the flower pot while I work.”

Wait! What? Han’s eyes almost pop out of his head and he stumbles knocking an ornamental garden gnome off the shelf.

Jules and Minho’s eyes land on the smashed gnome. Then they lift their gaze, eyes landing straight on Han.

Fuck! He freezes to the spot.

The pair look confused and make their way over to where Han is standing pretending to be gnome himself, and crouch down so they are eye level with him.

“It’s the customer from the other day.” Jules remarks. “He didn’t have any money.” She adds.

Han crosses his arm and pouts.

“He’s the one I told you about. The one that saw me on the shelf.” Minho adds.

“Excuse me?” Han interrupts. “I was hoping you could help me. You see, I live across the street with my Noona. She was the woman I was with when I came in the other day. And…anyway… I sit in the window sill and watch the flower shop. Not in a creepy way.” He is sure to add. “And I’ve seen him…Minho, or whatever your name is,” he points to the man “a few times… Then when I came in, he… he was small.”

“And you were big.” Minhos’s eyes glisten and he rubs his chin deviously. “And now you’re small!”

“Exactly! And I need to know… are you one of those miniature companions like me? And if so, why do you keep getting big? And… and is it the same for all of us? Is it different depending on the batch? Do some of us get big and others don’t?” Han’s out of breath by the time he’s finished.

“What’s your name?” Jules asks kindly.

“Han.” He replies and plops down, crossing his legs.

“Han?” She repeats thoughtfully.

“Do you recognise the name, babe?” Minho enquires.

Jules nods. “Yes. I believe he was also part of the range I purchased you from. The Skz range. I don’t think he was ready yet. How long have you been with your owner?”

“Just on a year.” He replies.

Jules and Minho exchange looks, then turn back to Han.

“Well, Han, buddy,” he says. “I think we might be able to answer your questions.”

—-----------

Eventually, after tearing your house apart in the hopes to find Han and failing, you flop yourself on your couch feeling empty and numb. You don’t even notice that your doorbell is ringing, but then a loud knock on the door makes you almost jump out of your skin.

“Yeah okay, I’m coming!” You call out as you head downstairs. With a sigh, you open the front door to find the woman who owns the flower shop across the street, and a man who you’ve seen a few times around the place, standing there. The woman holds a basket in her hands, and the man holds an amused look on his face.

Great. You’re not in the mood for interaction.

The woman’s eyes widen when she sees your tear streaked face.

“Uh, sorry to bother you. I’m Jules. From the flower shop across the street.” She smiles awkwardly. “And this is my, um, partner, Minho.” She gestures to the man next to her.

You continue to stand there, saying nothing.

Jules coughs, clearing her throat. “We’ve brought your Hannie home.” She declares.

“Noona!” Han’s head pops out of the basket.

Your hand comes up to cover your mouth. “Why do you have my Han?” You choke. Your eyes dart from Jules to Minho, confused and scared. Han is supposed to be a secret. You can’t have outsiders knowing about him.

“I went to them, Noona. They have something to tell you! Can’t you let us inside already?” He whines.

A whining Han is a good sign. You nod and usher them inside.

————-

You’re back on your couch, this time with Jules and Minho on the couch across from you, and your little Hannie on the cushion next to you. You’re relieved he’s back, but also so mad at his reckless behavior. He could’ve gotten himself killed. He and Minho are enjoying a piece of cheesecake, like this is some normal afternoon gathering of friends.

“So you have something to tell me?” You say looking to Jules.

“We do. You see, Han came to us because he saw my miniature companion in the flower shop the day you both came in.” She starts.

Your eyes widen. “You know about them? You’ve got one?”

Jules nods. “Yes. Minho here is my companion.”

“Hi.” He waves.

“He’s your companion?” You arch an eyebrow.

“Yes, he’s got his monthly grown up pants on at the moment, but most of the time he’s small like Han.” She nods her head towards Han.

You shake your head in disbelief. “One minute Han is doll sized, then suddenly out of nowhere he’s big.”

“She really didn’t read the manual, hey Han?” Minho chuckles.

“Then I find out there’s another tiny man running around across the street?” You continue, ignoring Minho’s remark.

“Hey, I’m far from tiny!” Minho turns to you with a deadly glare.

“Calm down sweetie.” Jules pats his thigh. “He’s not really cold and cynical.” She reassures you.

“He’s cocky isn’t he?” You say lightheartedly to Jules but your eyes are firmly on Minho. “You know you were able to read their traits on the website and select accordingly?” You say jokingly.

“That’s why she chose me. For my cock-iness.” Minho leans back into the couch.

“He was the only one who was cat friendly. I have three cats, you see.” Jules playfully punches Minho in the arm.

“Hah! You love my cock-y personality.”

“I do.” Jules admits and leans against him.

The pair are fascinating, but you need to know more. “What did you mean by monthly grown up pants?” You ask.

“Once a month I grow into the size of a human for two days.” Minho shares. “It’s a fault in the Skz manufacturing process.”

“You didn’t receive the recall email from the company?” Jules turns back to you surprised.

You shake your head.

“There was a form in the back of...the manual...that you could send in so you’d receive any important information. Like recalls and such.”

“Noona only read up to the part where it says I can ejaculate.” Han pipes up, his mouth full of food.

“Hannie! Don’t, you’re embarrassing me. Sorry, he hasn’t been socialized.” You say bashfully.

“I think these two will become best friends.” Jules laughs looking at the two men. “Han did say this whole human size situation came as a surprise to you both.”

“I feel so stupid. I didn’t read the whole manual. I’m such an irresponsible companion owner.”

“There was a recall on the Skz range because they were only supposed to grow big the once, not once every month. Purchasers were given the option to return the companion if they chose.”

“And she chose to keep me.” Minho adds.

“Would you have sent me back, Noona? If you’d known about the recall?” Han looks up at you with his boba eyes.

“Of course not. I love you. I just wish I’d known all this so we could have been prepared. Looked forward to it, even.”

“It’s okay, Noona. I think it has worked out for the best this way.” He looks at each of you. “I’ve finally got friends!” He says gleefully.

Jules and Minho leave shortly after, to have some alone time before his “grown up pants become too big”.

Han is exhausted from his adventure, and just wants to snuggle up on your chest and watch anime. Neither of you say much. There's no point in being angry at him for venturing out alone, and you're just happy to have him back in one piece.

Neither of you are really watching the anime either. Instead you're both smiling inwardly, imagining what life is going to look like from now on.

—————-

A little update on our y/n and Hannie:

Over the next year, Han and Minho have become inseparable, spending almost as much time with each other as they do with you and Jules.

You’ve introduced Han to your family. He was so nervous at first, but once he realized they approved of him, he was okay.

He learned to play guitar, and even commissioned a guitar maker to make a scaled down working model of an acoustic guitar so he can play whenever he feels like it.

------------

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this little fic. I loved writing it, even though it took me so long to have the energy to put the ideas into words. Thank you so much for reading. Your support encourages me to keep writing.

If you enjoy the more plot driven, lovey dovey fics, I have a few others on my main blog @moonlightndaydreams and I think I will probably cross post this fic as a oneshot over there to keep all my longer Hannie fics together.

Sorsha x.

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@kayleefriedchicken @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @katsukis1wife @jeonginsleftcheek @ihrtlino @ivydoesit23 @gnab-nahc @skzstan12345 @youcanstayyeah @binnieonabike @hanniemylovelyquokka @moasworld @binniesbabe @courtnort455 @yongbokkiesworld @felixleftchickennugget @bangchans-angel @heerinnie @meilix

@channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itsseohannbin @weareapackofstrays @3rachasdomesticbanana @palindrome969 @xxkissesforchanniexx @fun-fanfics @rhonnie23 @jisunglyricist @strayywayy @armystay89 @igetcarriedawaywithyou @mylittleponeypinkrosieposie @justforreaders @melochacco @scenuniverse @oddracha @galaxycatdrawz @jiminssluttyminx @dool-set-net @redstayrosie @mintymintmint251 @katsukis1wife

#skz smut #han jisung smut #han jisung x reader #sorshas fics

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leaf-line · 3 months ago

Text

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈𝐬 𝐀 𝐃𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠

Yandere! Dr Ratio x Gn! Reader

❏ You and Dr Ratio bakes cake after your milestone! All harmless, absolutely nothing bad will happen!

cw: invasion of privacy, implied isolation, people pleaser reader, mentions of insecurities and mental illnesses, suicide.

w/c: 2,856

"I'm starting to see your improvements." Ratio hums, sounding pleased, which is rare for him to do, but it's not impossible.

Contrary to his calm demeanor, you were emotional.

"That's all you could say!? This is big! This is a big deal!!" You cried out, snatching the papers—the fruits of your labor, the results of your hard, hard work—from Veritas.

Your heart was thumping so loudly. It was as if all your red blood cells received glucose simultaneously.

"I can't believe... I got high scores on all tests... All in a row..." You weep out of joy seeing all of them be above the number of 95. You could let your knees fall to the ground and start having a breakdown to release all the stress kept up in your years of living. "My life... Is fulfilled... Suffering... Is no more... Augh—" You state dramatically, Ratio could only scoff at your s-tier performance.

"It is a feat for a person like you. However, this is not the ending point for you to cry out of joy; there's always more to strive for and be better at. The room isn't that small. There's still more for improvement. However... You did great, I'm proud of you for that." He lectures as if to say 95 isn't enough and you need full scores, but honestly, you can't even be mad at him.

After all, he was the one who pushed you to achieve something such as this. If it weren't for him, you'd be nothing but a plain potato who didn't achieve anything meaningful.

A genius prodigy such as him could easily turn a useless stone like you into a shining diamond. You felt grateful.

"Ahaha..." You laugh ironically. "But thanks, it's all thanks to you, you should be proud." You wipe your tears eyes with a finger, then smile brightly at him.

He said nothing, and you grinned. Maybe it was because your smile was so contagious he was stunned, but then again, you don't know what's going on behind that mask of his. You could only see him turn his head away from you.

You wanted to know truly if he's fond of you or not.

Your tutor... No, rather, your friend Ratio was someone you never expected to get along with. Rather, you were extremely opposed to the idea, and perhaps, even was he.

Recalling back to that time, both of you first met... Wasn't exactly the best first impression...

"Welcome, Sir Veritas Ratio. Meet my child... [Name], please take care of them from now on. They might be a little... Uneducated, but I hope that you can help them with that." Your mother pushes your back towards him, in which you internally scowl in return.

You eyed him. He looked rather young to be your tutor.

"Ah, and I couldn't help but notice that both of you are the same age. If that is the case, then I hope that the both of you will get along well!" Your mother cheerfully says so.

You doubted that heavily.

That's because you did your research before meeting him in person.

A lot of people said that the prodigy was cruel, relentless, and maybe even sadistic. And the list goes on. The most positive and recurring mentioned trait of his was being academically talented.

As soon as your mother left you with him, you felt vulnerable, as if you were out in the open and someone was ready to stab you with words like knife, take for example; the person in front of you.

You try to pace down your heartbeat to not overthink it... It works.

It's fine, it's fine, he's a prodigy, surely he knows about the fact of how the human heart is delicate and needs to be handled carefully. What's the worst he could say to you out loud?

No matter what it is, you won't let it reach you!

"Hey... You." He calls out, you prepare yourself.

There's no way he's gonna be 'that' cruel to you... Right? You both just met.

"Have you taken a shower? You stink."

...

A part of you cracked.

"Let's move on quickly, I don't have time to deal with idiots such as you."

And it cracks again.

Yeah... It wasn't the best, but at least he doesn't say that anymore. In fact, it helped you that he said that, since you don't neglect hygienic activities as much anymore. But as Professor Veritas Ratio once said, 'Don't dwell in the past for long,' let's focus on the future and present!

Since this is a milestone for you, you should gift Dr Ratio with a thank you.

"I'm in no need of your services. This feat was only achieved through your hard work. You should treat only yourself." He said out of nowhere.

"Wait— H-How did you even—"

"Your face said it all."

"Huh???"

Dr Ratio seems to have a knack for using his hidden mind-reading powers on you. You don't like that. You'll always feel vulnerable to him every time at this point.

"Ah... Too bad... I was gonna make myself some homemade cake and share it with you... Too bad you don't want it. I guess I'll just stick to being lonely and take it all for myself." You puff out, obviously picking on him.

"Then let me help you, for all I could know, the house might be burned down before you can even bake one successfully." He replies back with no remorse.

"How rude!"

You end up baking at his home.

You simply didn't want the place to be yours since your mom is gonna be there saying you're wasting your time doing all this, so it's gonna be annoying.

And so you're there, stirring a bowl with a whisk, while there's Ratio holding out the instructions. You can't lie; he looks kinda cuter with that apron he's wearing if only his strange plaster sculpture weren't covering his appearance.

"You know... Veritas... You can remove that mask off. Since... Ya know? We're baking."

"Focus on the task at hand."

"Damn..."

You were silenced immediately, so you carefully put down the bowl, ——albeit with a trembling hand that made you feel pathetic——, to move over to the chopping board with the bowl of strawberries that you're gonna cut. You reach out for the knife

...If not for Dr Ratio intervening.

"Let me handle that." He says, practically shoving you away from the chopping board. He takes the knife and chops it with ease despite wearing that weird sculpture on his head. You wonder if he can see with that.

"Woah... Are you worried about me accidentally cutting myself?" Your eyes widen in surprise.

"I didn't know you actually cared for me, Professor Veritas... Hmmm, but I suppose you can't help it; after all, I'm the cutest and the best student ever had, aren't I?" You bat your eyelashes for the sake of sarcasm.

"Perhaps."

"...Eh?"

Too blunt, you feel your cheeks burning up.

You wonder if he's just playing along with your sarcasm because there is absolutely no way that's the case.

"I'm not playing around with your jokes. I'm simply laying out the possibility."

"There you go... Using your mind reading powers again..."

"It's not that hard to do if you have two eyes and a brain."

"I have a brain too... Not everyone can exactly know what a person is thinking just by looking at their face and expression."

"I doubt both of those statements."

"...Okay, rude."

"It's not about skills, actually; you're just an open book."

"Am I really??"

You hum, seeing him chop the strawberries more efficiently than you ever could. You know all well you'd cut it clumsily, then they'd end up looking like you've beaten them to mashes. You walk to the over to preheat it while he does his own thing. You gaze at the warm light.

"This cake is just for the two of us. I can't really share it with anyone else. If only I could, I would." You murmur your thoughts out loud, feeling close enough to him to tell him your issues occurring these days. You stand up to walk over next to him.

"...Why is that?"

"Everyone at the campus... Ignores me. I don't know why." You say, your expression showing one of disheartened, but you bothered to put up a smile. "I know, I know, I shouldn't be bothered with this minimalistic stuff." You chuckle.

"... Human life inevitably takes the form of a struggle against loneliness. We reach out to others in order to avoid sinking into complete isolation. However, although they might provide us with some degree of consolation and felt connection, our loneliness is something that can never be overcome. Therefore, you have the right to be bothered by it. Even if everyone on your campus notices you, you'll still end up feeling lonely."

"So... You're telling me my feelings don't matter even if I single myself out?"

"You have me, don't you?"

"Woah??"

"Don't go around putting random ideas in your head. It's just, if you ever feel like you're the only person existing in the universe, remember me." He placed down the knife to lightly pat your head.

"..." It was as if you remember something foul, you feel your smile fading for a bit. "You know, I wondered if people avoid because they think I'm annoying. Do you find me annoying too Dr Ratio?" You humor a question.

"I'd be lying if I said not entirely."

"And here I thought you were trying to comfort me." You laugh, taking the strawberries he chopped and mixed it with the other ingredients. You think carefully on what you're about to say next.

"There was this one guy named [____], he thinks I'm annoying but... We... 'Talked' everyday, but one day he just suddenly killed himself." You wonder if you were the reason, though it's too far fetched, you still felt guilty.

"...i see, but you shouldn't blame yourself. It's not your fault, he must've had his own problems." He says... For some reason, you felt like he sounded awfully guilty too.

"...You're right."

You glance back at your baking progress only to see that it's already prepared for the oven. "Oh... It seems like we were taking too much I didn't even realize."

"Focus. Place that in the oven for 40 minutes." He orders, you nod and follow obediently.

As that was done, you breathe out a sigh. "Where's your bathroom?" You ask.

"Go to that hallway, you'll find it eventually."

You didn't bother to ask more and marched straight into it.

Whilst walking, you find... His room, no, it might be an office knowing who he is.

Your curiosity lead to dumb decisions such as this one, so you open the door which was surprisingly open. The room felt fancy and professional, you felt like you were a dirt intruding inside a perfectly clean place.

The walls were decorated with a bunch of awards, eight doctoral degrees, outstanding achievements in the fields of biology, medicine, natural theology, philosophy, mathematics, physics, and engineering— ah, you felt dizzy.

"Uwah..." You felt jealous, though it must've been stressful and uneasy to achieve all this. You send a regard in your mind for him, hoping that he didn't stress all this too much.

You wonder why you were even next to him, how could you even stand next to someone such as him, it felt like something out of fantasy, only someone with the same level as him should he be talking to. You were a simpleton compared to him.

Being in character of a simpleton, a stupid, brainless simpleton, you dig more on his room, to that resulted of you seeing a notebook placed on a desk. "Looks important... Is this his diary or something?"

Despite saying that, you still flipped the notebook into a page, reading it...

[Name] [Last Name]

Home Planet: Cosmos

Gender: [______]

Species: Human

Height: [______]

Weight: [______]

Address: [______]

Social Security Number: [______]

Birthdate: [______]

Collage Campus: [______]

Degree: [______]

Average Grade: 57% —> 96%

Biological Parents:

Mother: [______] - Occupation: The IPC Strategic Investment Department

Father: [______] - Deceased

Huh? Isn't this your... Private information... Why... Is it in his handwriting...? Your hand reluctantly flips to the next page.

[Name] [Last Name]'s history with their mother isn't difficult to understand, they're not fond of their mother for the sole reason of abandonment and high expectations, their mother does not have the time to raise a child for she is busy working for the IPC. However, she holds high expectations for [Name] despite not teaching them and leaving them to fend for their own without help, naturally, [Name], without tools, [Name] learned nothing and struggled to understand the materials exposed to them. With no choice left, their mother found a teacher that will help them raise up to her expectations.

I do not understand why she chose me out of everyone, perhaps because of the same age we have, but unlike them, my standards were advanced, choosing me will only cause [Name] to struggle more, I feel bad, so I set my teachings to them to be more tame and easy to understand, but difficult enough for them to improve even slightly, but to my utter surprise, they followed along with it. Not to say that they didn't struggle, in fact, they struggled greatly, but despite that, they pursued the materials. Despite their many flaws, they strive for the betterment of themselves.

Struggles and insecurities, they suffer from anxiety and depression, for one, they struggle to be hygienic and procrastinate, they prefer to relax and wallow on their own self pity rather than choose to study, they have a rather low view of themselves and low confidence, dead honest about thinking that they're a hopeless idiot, however they cover the fact that they think of that by joking around and putting up a false confidence to everyone. They care about the well-being of other people more than themselves. On the other hand, they feel the fear from failure, evident by how their hand trembles whenever they feel like—

Enough. You felt cold sweat dripping on you face. That's... Too much, he isn't supposed to know all this. It's you personal thing. How did he even...

You don't why, you really don't know why you still haven't left the notebook alone and left the room, you don't know why you still flipped to the next page.

Spreading rumors about them weren't difficult, as it seems like all those people are easily swayed by simple words, however, through that action, [Name] regretfully became a target of bad intent. Through pros and cons, I conclude that it was worth it, the sight of [Name] relying on me is ever so priceless.

[____], a wretch, a classmate of [Name], bullying [Name] over his own insecurities, rather than taking it out on something else, he takes out his pent up stress on other people, [Name] being the victim. [Name] seems to have noticed this, so rather than telling people of fighting back, they endured it, telling nobody about it (even me). I have a speculation that they simply endured it with a naive thought of helping that ignorant wretch.

He appears to have a delicate ego and heart, as it turns out he was taking it out on [Name] simply because he admired me and thinking that it should be him that I should be teaching rather than [Name]. As said, he had a delicate ego and a delicate heart, so it wasn't difficult to shatter it into pieces. I admit, though immoral, I found his dismay satisfying, ignorant people like him deserved to jump off that building—

You head snapped to the door and you felt a chilling sensation on your spine.

No longer wearing his mask, his head leaned onto the doorframe.

You drop the note book on the floor, seeing as pictures of you that were stuck on that note book to fly and scatter on the ground.

"Had fun reading? Were even in terms of privacy, did I ever tell you that you can meddle with my notes?" He questioned, his face showed no emotion.

"...Why— Why would y-you—?" You felt tears invade your vision, you heart being constricted.

"I take it were gonna have a long conversation later? No, actually..." He says, getting closer to you, you instinctively take the same steps back.

He gets closer and closer until your back is facing the wall, he placed a hand to obscure your vision. Perhaps the reason he covers his face around you, is because he's just as an open book as you when he's around you, he can't have you seeing his overly infatuated expression, even after he was trying so hard to hide it.

"Let's settle this short, right here, right now, I'll tell you everything. We have 25 minutes left, can't have the cake burning in the oven for too long can we?"

a/n: fun fact! just in case you missed it, at the first part of this short story, dr ratio subconsciously turned his head away from you because he was flustered by your gratefulness for him, sorry if it sounded like a vent at some parts, idk what occurred to me 💀, maybe it's because dr ratio is ironically my comfort character, i hate people like him irl but...

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alyrasturnz · 4 months ago

Text

THIS IS ME TRYING

❐ summary » y/n struggles silently with a heavy heart. unable to open up to matt, y/n pens a poignant suicide note, a final cry for help. unbeknownst to y/n, matt stumbles upon the note, unraveling the depth of y/n's hidden pain. as the weight of the discovery settles, matt is determined to bridge the chasm of silence and offer the support y/n desperately needs.

❐ pairings » bf!matt x fem!reader

❐ warnings » suicidal thoughts, suicide letter, implied depression

❐ a/n && w/c » this was a request but i forgot to reply to the ask and i only realized when i was balls deep into designing this. so this was my 3rd update tonight.. i literally have school in an hour i didnt sleep at all. • 3.54k

you lay in bed, motionless, enveloped by the stillness of the room, your thoughts a tangled web of inertia and despondency. each breath felt like an echo in the cavernous silence. the world outside continued to spin, oblivious to the stasis that had overtaken your being, leaving you suspended in a void where time seemed to stretch infinitely.

you haven't been able to get out of your bed lately. the weight of innumerable burdens has been amassing, creating an insurmountable heap that leaves you paralyzed with indecision. you grapple with an internal tumult, yet the words to articulate your struggle elude you, leaving you in a silent battle against an invisible adversary.

you didn’t know much, countless questions swirling in your mind without answers. yet amidst the haze, one truth crystallized with stark clarity: you were utterly and profoundly tired, both in body and spirit.

so, for the first time in what felt like an eternity, you mustered the strength to sit up. you stood, the chill of the hardwood floor seeping through your feet, grounding you in the present. with deliberate steps, you made your way to your desk, each movement a small yet significant triumph over the inertia that had held you captive.

you had brushed matt off countless times, relying on the familiar refrains of "i'm busy" or "i don't feel well." there were even moments when you chose silence over any response at all, letting the unspoken words hang in the air like a heavy fog.

and you felt a gnawing guilt that only compounded your stress. it was as if the weight of your actions, or lack thereof, was an additional burden you were too weak to carry. each moment of avoidance chipped away at your already fragile resolve, leaving you feeling utterly incapable of handling anything.

you had endured this countless times before, but this time, it felt almost surreal. it was as if a cruel twist had taken hold of your very core, leaving you with a nauseating sense of unease. the sensation was both visceral and disorienting, amplifying the sickening nature of the experience.

you lowered yourself into the chair, the familiar creak accompanying your descent. with deliberate movements, you opened your notebook, the rustle of pages breaking the silence. you tore out a sheet, the sound sharp and final, before reaching into the drawer to retrieve a pen, its cool metal a reminder of the task at hand.

your thumb instinctively navigated to the pen's tip, the satisfying click resonating in the quiet room as you began to inscribe your thoughts upon the paper.

your mind was a chaotic whirlwind, the words on the page becoming an indecipherable jumble. amidst the confusion, one truth remained clear: you needed to muster the strength to say a proper goodbye.

you were writing, but the words felt disjointed and uncertain. the only coherent threads in your mind were the vivid memories you held with matt, each one weaving through your thoughts like a haunting refrain.

the ink from your pen flowed freely onto the paper, creating a tapestry of words even as tears welled in your eyes, blurring the lines between emotion and expression.

as you completed the final sentence, you gently placed your pen down, allowing the tears that had been welling up to cascade freely from your eyes, each drop a silent testament to the emotions etched within your words.

your heart constricted with a sudden, intense pang. but then, the sound of your front door clicking open broke through the haze, your head snapping toward the source of the unexpected intrusion.

"y/n?" matt's voice reverberated through the house, a resonant echo that amplified your growing panic.

you quickly opened your drawer, tossing your pen inside with a sense of urgency. grasping the piece of paper tightly, your eyes darted around the room, frantically searching for a suitable place to hide it, if only for the meantime. your mind raced, considering and discarding potential hiding spots, each one seeming inadequate under the pressure of the moment.

your heart raced with mounting intensity as you discerned the deliberate footsteps of matt ascending the stairs, each step echoing ominously and amplifying your sense of impending confrontation.

you swiftly crumpled the paper in your trembling hands, casting it to the ground with a hurried flick. using your foot, you deftly kicked it to the side, hoping to obscure it from view.

matt opened the door, his gaze locking onto yours. his eyes, which had initially held a stern intensity, softened almost immediately, a subtle shift that spoke volumes.

"hi, sweetheart," he murmured, a gentle smile playing on his lips as he quietly closed the door behind him. "you okay? you don't look well," he continued, his voice laced with concern as he approached you. his hands tenderly cupped your face, his eyes meticulously examining your features for any sign of distress.

his eyes meticulously traced the contours of your face, lingering on the more pronounced cheekbones that seemed to have become more defined over time. he noted the somber shadows beneath your eyes, dark bags that told the silent tale of sleepless nights and unspoken worries.

his gaze moved with a deliberate slowness, absorbing every detail as if trying to understand the depth of your weariness through the subtle changes in your appearance.

it's true. you don't look well at all. it seems you've neglected self-care, with showering becoming an infrequent luxury rather than a daily ritual. you haven't been nourishing yourself properly, if at all. sleep has eluded you for many moons, leaving you in a state of perpetual exhaustion. your once sun-kissed skin had now taken on a pallid hue, a stark contrast to its former vitality.

he surveyed your room, his eyes taking in the disarray before finally settling back on you.

"i was going to discuss something else with you, but..." he murmured softly, his thumb delicately tracing the contours of your face, lingering as if to memorize every curve. "do you want me to run a bath for you?" matt inquired, his voice a soothing balm to your weary soul.

a bath does sound nice, you muse internally, the thought wrapping around you like a warm, comforting embrace.

"yeah..." you murmur softly, accompanied by a gentle nod. matt's smile widens, his hands falling to his sides, fingers twitching slightly as if reluctant to let go. you turn around slowly, the weight of the moment lingering in the air, a silent understanding passing between you.

his hand found its way to the small of your back, a reassuring presence that guided you with gentle insistence towards the bathroom, each step a silent promise of comfort and care.

you stood in the middle of the bathroom, feeling the cool tiles beneath your feet, as he turned the faucet of your bathtub on. he then bent down, opening the cabinet under your sink with practiced ease, retrieving a bath bomb with a flourish, its vibrant colors promising a moment of tranquility.

he plopped the bath bomb into the water, watching as it dissolved and painted a mesmerizing tapestry of colors across the surface. turning to face you, his eyes reflected the swirling hues, a silent invitation to join in the moment of serene beauty.

"up," he said softly, his hands deftly finding their way to the hem of your shirt. as you lifted your arms, matt carefully guided the fabric upwards, the motion slow and deliberate, as though savoring the quiet intimacy of the moment.

matt discards the shirt into the laundry basket with a casual flick, his hands then finding their place on your hips. with a gentle yet firm pull, he slides your sweatpants down, the fabric pooling at your feet as you step out of them, the movement fluid and unhurried.

you slowly walked over to the bathtub, each step deliberate and measured. as you approached, matt turned the faucet off with a precise motion, the water now still and inviting as you stepped inside, feeling the warmth envelop you.

you felt the warmth of the water envelop your skin, a soft smile tugging at the corners of your lips for the first time in what felt like an eternity. the gentle embrace of the water seemed to wash away the weight of countless days, leaving behind a fleeting moment of pure serenity.

"i'm gonna be back," matt said, his voice a gentle promise as he left the bathroom, the door closing softly behind him. you sank further into the bathtub, the water cradling you as you closed your eyes, surrendering to a moment of deep relaxation.

matt surveyed your room, his eyes absorbing the disarray with a contemplative gaze before he made his way to your bed, each step deliberate amidst the chaos.

he meticulously made your bed, replacing the sheets with fresh, crisp ones and arranging the pillows with deliberate care, ensuring each one found its rightful place.

he then gathered the scattered dirty clothes from the floor, swiftly descending to the laundry room. with a practiced motion, he deposited the soiled sheets and garments into the washer before making his way back upstairs.

he then approached your desk with a discerning eye, methodically organizing the clutter and discarding any paper that served no purpose. his gaze landed on a piece of paper lying adjacent to the bin. he intended to discard it, but the extensive writing it bore caught his attention.

he picked it up, carefully uncrumpling it and placing it onto your table. he was about to move on, but something made him glance back at it. there, amidst the text, was his name, written with unmistakable clarity.

his brow furrowed in contemplation as he delicately retrieved the piece of paper, his fingers tracing its edges with a sense of curiosity.

matt,

i don't even know where to begin. my heart is breaking as i write this, and i can't help but think of all the memories we've shared. every laugh, every tear, every quiet moment where we just existed together. you were my everything, and i wish i could have been stronger for you.

i've been fighting this darkness for so long, and it's like a weight that i can't lift anymore. i've tried to hold on, for you, for us, but i'm so tired, matt. i feel like i'm suffocating, and there's no air left for me to breathe. please know that this isn't your fault. you did everything you could, and you were my light in the darkest times.

i'm so sorry for the pain this will cause you. i wish i could stay and be the person you deserve, but i can't keep pretending that i'm okay. i don't want you to remember me like this, broken and lost. think of the times we danced in the kitchen, the nights we stayed up talking about our dreams, the mornings we woke up tangled in each other's arms. hold on to those moments and let them bring you comfort.

whenever you look at the sunset, think of me. think of the warmth and the beauty, and let it remind you of the love we shared. as much as it might hurt, i want you to move on. my selfish actions shouldn't take away your happiness and your potential to become better. you deserve all the happiness in the world, and i hope one day you'll find it again. don't let my absence take away your light. keep shining, keep loving, and keep living. i'll always be with you, in your heart, in your memories.

with all my love,

y/n

as soon as matt finished reading the letter, tears began to cascade down his face uncontrollably. he felt as though the very air had been stolen from his lungs, each breath a struggle as the weight of the words pressed heavily upon his heart.

he let out a soft sob at the thought of losing you to something he could’ve helped with. oblivious to your suffering, he was tormented by the realization that you had never confided in him.

matt stumbled into the bathroom, his hands trembling as he clutched the note, the paper crinkling under the pressure of his grip. his eyes, red and swollen from the relentless tears that refused to cease, bore the weight of his anguish. y

ou looked up from the bathtub, your face a poignant blend of exhaustion and sorrow, the dark circles under your eyes speaking volumes of sleepless nights and silent suffering. the room seemed to close in around him, the air thick with unspoken words and the heavy scent of despair.

"matt?" you mutter, your voice laced with a palpable concern, each syllable trembling as it escapes your lips, reflecting the depth of your unease and the gravity of the moment.

matt raises his trembling hand, revealing the crumpled letter, and in that instant, you feel your heart seize, as if time itself has momentarily halted.

"what is this?" his voice cracked, but now it carried a sharp, almost accusatory edge. "what are you doing?"

you could barely meet his eyes, the weight of your emotions pressing down on you like an unrelenting tide. "matt, i... i don't know what i'm doing. i'm so lost. i'm so alone."

he dropped to his knees beside the tub, the note still clutched tightly in his hand. "you think this is the answer? just leaving me like this?" his voice trembled, a volatile mix of anger and hurt lacing every word.

tears streamed down your cheeks as you reached out to touch his face, your fingers trembling. "i'm sorry, matt. i feel like i'm drowning in my own thoughts. i don't know how to make it stop."

he shook his head, his frustration bubbling to the surface like a simmering cauldron. "you don't care about what this would do to me? to us? you think disappearing is the solution?"

you leaned in, your breath trembling as you delicately brushed a strand of hair from his forehead. you paused for a moment, your fingers lingering on his skin, tracing the contours of his face as if trying to memorize every detail.

then, with a tenderness that belied the turmoil within you, you pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. "i don't want to, but i feel so trapped. it's like i'm stuck in this darkness and i can't find my way out."

matt's eyes flashed with a tumultuous blend of anger and desperation. "you can't just give up! we have to fight this together. running away won't solve anything."

"i don't know how, matt. i don't know how to let you in when i can't even understand what's happening to me," you whispered, your voice trembling as you pulled away, feeling the warmth of his hands cupping your face.

"we'll figure it out together," he whispered, his voice filled with determination but still tinged with frustration. he took a deep breath, his fingers gently tracing the outline of your face, as if trying to imprint the moment into his memory. "just promise me you'll stay. we'll find a way through this, i swear."

you nodded, tears cascading down your cheeks like a relentless stream. "i'm scared, matt. i'm so scared of what i'm feeling," you confessed, your voice quivering with the weight of your emotions.

he pulled you into a tight embrace, his own tears mingling with yours. "i know, but you're not alone. i'm right here with you, every step of the way," he murmured, his voice a soothing balm against the storm of your fears, as his arms tightened around you, anchoring you in the shared vulnerability of the moment.

you clung to him, the warmth of his hug a small comfort in the storm of your mind. "thank you, matt. i don't know what i'd do without you," you whispered, your voice barely audible as you buried your face in his chest, seeking solace in the steady rhythm of his heartbeat amidst the chaos of your thoughts.

"you'll never have to find out," he vowed, his voice steady and strong, though the anger still simmered beneath the surface. "we'll get through this, together," he promised, his words a resolute anchor as his grip tightened, conveying a fierce determination to weather the storm side by side.

with that, you allowed yourself to lean into his strength, the darkness still looming but no longer as suffocating. matt's unwavering support and his raw, honest emotions were the beacon you needed to start navigating your way back from the abyss.

»--•--«

it had been half a year since matt had stumbled upon the letter that bared your soul's darkest thoughts. true to his word, he had been a steadfast beacon, guiding you through the tempestuous seas of your despair.

now, you find yourself enveloped in a profound sense of contentment, a state of happiness that has eluded you for what feels like an eternity. matt, with unwavering dedication, facilitated your journey into therapy, and his presence has become a constant in your life, as if he has seamlessly integrated himself into your very existence, never straying from your side.

you would find solace in the nights spent at his place, and he would reciprocate by staying over at yours. matt, with meticulous care, ensured that every action he took was aimed at nurturing your well-being and lifting your spirits.

he unearthed a myriad of shared hobbies for the two of you to indulge in, much like the one you're presently engaged in.

you and matt find yourselves amidst a picturesque picnic, where he has decided to embrace the art of painting as well.

your paintbrush delicately grazed the canvas, a gentle smile playing on your lips as you meticulously brought a beautiful garden to life through your strokes.

"matt! look," you giggle softly, your voice a melodic whisper, as matt leans over, his eyes twinkling with curiosity and admiration, to behold the intricate masterpiece you've crafted.

"that looks beautiful, sweetheart," he murmured tenderly, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple, as a delicate pink hue blossomed across your cheeks.

“y’think so?” you inquire, turning towards him with a mixture of hope and curiosity in your eyes, seeking the affirmation and reassurance that only his words could provide.

he smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he leaned in, planting a tender kiss onto your lips. "i know so," he murmured with a smile that spoke volumes of his unwavering certainty.

as you both continued painting, a comfortable silence enveloped the space between you. the gentle hum of nature filled the air, with the chirping of crickets and the rustle of leaves composing a symphony of tranquility that seemed to dance around you.

matt broke the silence, his voice imbued with a thoughtful resonance. he paused for a moment, glancing around as if the memories were painted in the very air around you. "do you remember the first time we came here? it was right after that big storm, and everything was so fresh and new."

you laughed softly, the memory vivid in your mind. the sound of your laughter seemed to blend with the gentle rustling of leaves, creating a harmonious melody. "yeah, we got soaked trying to find shelter, but it was worth it. the meadow looked like a scene from a fairy tale."

he nodded, a smile playing on his lips, his eyes reflecting the warmth of the memory. "i think that's when i knew this place would always be special to us. it's like our own little world, untouched by everything else."

you looked at him, feeling a surge of affection swell within you, like a tide rising to meet the shore. "it's not just the place, matt. it's what we've built together. the memories, the growth... it's all part of our story."

he squeezed your hand gently, his eyes reflecting the same sentiment, a silent echo of your own feelings. "you're right. and i wouldn't trade any of it for the world."

"you know," you began, dipping your brush into a shade of blue, watching the pigment mix with the water, swirling gently before lifting it to the canvas and applying it with careful, deliberate strokes, "i never thought i'd feel this peaceful again."

matt glanced over, his own painting a beautiful mess of colors and emotions, each brushstroke layered with meaning and depth. "i always knew you would," he replied, his voice soft yet unwavering. "you've come so far, y/n. it's incredible to see you like this."

you smiled, the corners of your eyes crinkling with genuine happiness, a warmth spreading through your chest. "i couldn't have done it without you, matt. your support, your patience... it meant everything."

you both fell silent again, the weight of your shared history settling comfortably around you like a well-worn blanket. it was in these moments of quiet reflection that you truly appreciated the profound depth of your bond.

finally, you lifted your brush, a newfound resolve kindling within your heart. "to new beginnings," you said, your voice steady and imbued with hope.

matt echoed your words, his smile a reflection of your own. "to new beginnings," he repeated, his voice resonating with the same hopeful resolve.

tags — @imwetforyourmom @meatballzerz69 @pinkishpearls @bandanamatt @thedangerousalleyway @muchloveforhacker @stinkytinkywinky @jetaimevous @everleiqh @conspiracy-ash @ifwdominicfike @blahbel668

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