#dark reunion au | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sugurouge · 3 months ago

Text

— flame of despair : soulmate! sukuna ryōmen x rebirthed! f!reader

content warnings! DARK CONTENT, historical au, noncon, monsterfucking, aggressive hair pulling, dacryphilia, hurtful pet names (whore & pet), yandere themes, reader is viewed as sukuna’s property, deep throating, cunnilingus, blood, mindbreak, misogyny (he makes a nasty remark about the role of a woman), degradation

summary: Each and every life of yours will always belong to Sukuna. He will remind you of that promise with every new life, no matter the methods used. The idea of romance and being bound to your partner by soul, the thing you always dreamt of, becomes ruined and reality turns out to be a living nightmare once your soulmate claims you.

wordcount: 2.5k | my kinktober masterlist

──── ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧ ────

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"No, no, let's try that again, pet."

The monster looming above you muses, mischief gleams deep in those dreadful red eyes as Sukuna watches your trembling form at his feet. You're exposed to him, the white fabric of your drape drenched with blood and water from the unfortunate weather of the recent weeks; almost as if some higher being has been angered by your reunion.

Your hair is a tangled mess from where Sukuna's claws dragged you to kneel in front of him, and your lips are bruised thanks to a previous blow to your once-pretty face. The bitter taste of iron taints your tongue, yet the flavours pale in comparison to the horror that awaits every time Sukuna decides to let you out of your cage to 'play'.

"I—"

"Who do you belong to?" Sukuna interrupts, shattering the last fragments of your dignity.

"N-no—"

No one. No one, you were trying to say. You’ve tried to tell him that for weeks, ever since he found you and claimed you, spouting wild fantasies of past lives and how, in every new one, he would always come to find you again.

But you can’t even force those two small words past your lips before a harsh slap to your cheekbone sends fresh tears streaming down your face, sobs erupting from your throat. The claws digging into your cheeks sting, they tear at your skin as sharply as his words pierce your soul. "You belong to me. You’re mine. My property, understand?"

He makes you nod, grinning as your tears glisten under the dim light of the fires dancing around his hall. "Repeat it for me." His deep voice rumbles ominously, the tip of his nose brushing almost affectionately against your tear-streaked cheek.

"I'm... I'm," you falter as your brows crease in disgust over the words about to escape your lips. You’d rather die than give him the satisfaction, the defiant glare in your eyes stating as much as you meet his gaze.

"Say it," he drawls, his voice is sending shivers down your spine. Four eyes bore into you as Sukuna seems to grow larger with each passing second, his presence is suffocating.

Yet here you are, as helpless as an infant, yet as brave as a tiger whilst you shake your head in his iron grip. You don’t even have time to blink before your face slams into the cold, unforgiving floor. Your cheek is pressed into a vile mixture of dried blood and water as a thunderstorm rages above, the temple trembling beneath its wrath.

You feel numb, the groan that escapes from deep within your lungs barely registering in your mind since you're fully overwhelmed by the high-pitched ringing that clouds your senses. But the violent tugging on your body snaps you back to this living nightmare as four hands tear at the flimsy fabric Sukuna dares to call a dress, leaving you naked and vulnerable under his cruel gaze.

Your tears mix with the blood running down the side of your temple as you stare up at him in horror. You wouldn’t even be able to attempt to cover yourself, your limbs feeling as though they don’t belong to you as they are pressed to the ground by two strong hands.

“Look at me.”

You comply, your eyes slowly focusing on the blurry demon as you blink the tears away. “Stop, please…” you hear your own voice, shaky and weak, yet apparently utterly entertaining to Sukuna, judging by the grin etched on his face.

He guides your nimble fingers over his muscular body, across his black markings and prominent pecs, as his lips graze your ear. “If you’d stop being so ungrateful… you could enjoy all of this,” his faint whisper tickles your neck, his hot breath contrasting with the icy cold water on your back. “Just say you’re mine. Admit it.”

“I’m not yours.” You don’t even have time to groan as a third hand snakes around your throat and applies pressure to your airways, nails tearing through the first layer of your skin and continuing to dig deeper into your flesh.

“You’re mine. You have been mine from the moment you were born, you dumb whore!” he snarls, fingers forcing their way through your tangled hair, exposing your neck to his teeth. Sukuna savours every drop of your blood, every dried tear and bead of sweat before his teeth sink into your body, eliciting a defeated whine from you. Yet it’s the fourth hand applying pressure to your hip bone that has you gasping in horror, a new set of tears welling up along your lash line as you vehemently shake your head in denial.

“You’ve been mine ever since your village offered me my soulmate, isn’t that right?” he breathes, the devilish grin returning to his lips as he leans in to kiss you harshly. His tongue invades your mouth, spreading the taste of your blood to every corner before he pulls back, leaving only a thin string of saliva connecting your bodies— as faint and delicate as your bond to this monster.

“They threw you at my feet. Offered me my toy to play with in exchange for protection.” His lips trail between your breasts, greedily pressing against your heaving chest and staining your skin as Sukuna’s journey takes him further south.

“Dumb as they are. As if I’d let anyone live who treats my property with such shame.” Sukuna traces the lines of your bondmark; the action almost seems adoring by how gentle his touch is before his nail redraws the lines in red.

“You’re mine,” his eyes snap up to your face. “You’ll forever be mine. With every reincarnation, I’ll find you, claim you, and break you until you’re my queen again.”

Your voice finds its way back to you in this moment, as you cry out from the pain Sukuna inflicts on your body, his words reminding you of the horrors you witnessed that day.

How your mother dressed you in her finest dress and let you play princess, promising you the world as soon as you found your soulmate. Only for your father to push you to your knees in front of a demon, a curse—him. Sukuna Ryomen.

And your eyes saw the lines on his side as the top of his yukata pooled around his hips. The same devious mark you had on your body ever since you were a baby.

You were cursed. The entire village treated you like a lesser being, like filth and a secret, promised to stay hidden until they could rid themselves of you—all because of legends passed down for hundreds of years about the only weakness the King of Curses holds.

They all too willingly tore the beautiful dress off your body and gave the devil not what he came for, but what he most desired.

“I don't want to be a monster’s queen,” your bold statement makes Sukuna’s face deform into a hideous mask, violent laughter erupting from deep within his chest at the fighting spirit you try to uphold. “Were you not dreaming of the day your soulmate would find you like all those other pathetic little mortals do?” The words are nothing but a murmur; Sukuna doesn’t even make it sound like a question, and he leaves no room for your reply either—not when black nails dig into the fat of your thighs or strong hands pin down your wrists to the floor. “I understand, you must be claimed, to learn to appreciate your life at my feet, pet.”

The most disgusting part of this moment is not the grimace looming above you, or the horror in Sukuna’s eyes, no, it's the feeling of a wet, hot tongue lapping at your cunt while this abnormality holds you spread open like you’re on a serving plate.

Sukuna sees the aversion on your face, the way your eyes squint before you have to look away once the pleasure starts to feel undeniable as he fucks you open on his tongue. The squelching is so lewd, you can only cry over yourself.

“Stop your miserable act, whore,” Sukuna punctuates his words with a deep thrust of the thick tongue from his stomach, forcing a moan from you whether you like it or not.

The hand around your small wrists hurts, feeling as if Sukuna wants to actively burn his fingerprints into your skin as his eyes stare into the depths of your soul. You know where his tugging leads, know what you feel when the hot, sticky sensation meets the palm of your hand. Encased between your much smaller and Sukuna’s own large palm are his cocks. Your whimpers are unending as he forces your hand to drag over their shafts, his maniacal stare into your disgusted face unwavering. How dare you continue to insult him like that? You should feel grateful for his attraction towards you.

You whine the moment your head hits the floor once more, Sukuna easily pressing your form against the stone-cold ground, finally forcing your eyes to snap up to look directly into his red gaze.

There is no such thing as tenderness to be found in them, no love, no sympathy. The concept of soulmates is nothing but a nightmare for you.

“You’re hurting me…” you whisper in desperation, yet Sukuna only basks in this newfound tenderness in your eyes as fat tears stream down your cheeks.

“Then stop denying me!” Sukuna growls right next to your ear. His dominance and your own fear send shivers down your spine, rendering you limp beneath him.

The rough pads of his fingers squish your face beneath his grip—disabling you from facing anything but him. “You could have another fulfilled life…” Is this tenderness you see in his eyes? Love he held for the yous from the past? It can't be. Not him. “But you leave me no choice.” In one fell swoop, you find yourself back on your knees, your face brought up right in front of the tips of his cocks.

The cold flooring hurts your joints, making you wince once more, but your sounds are all the same to Sukuna—simply confirmation of his influence on your body. In pleasure or pain? Who cares.

However, he notices the slight shake of your head. It's causing his grip on your hair to tighten, eliciting another loud whine from you.

Your dainty fingers try to ease his grip to no avail. “Please, I don't de—” but the loud gulp of your throat cuts off any protest. The thick tip of Sukuna’s shaft spreads your mouth beyond your imagination, the salty flavour of his pre-cum coating your tongue and messing with your taste buds before he prods at the entrance to your throat, muscles trembling around his infiltration. You struggle to keep the choking at bay, swallowing back any disgusting liquids threatening to crawl back up.

Sukuna groans in satisfaction. His darkened eyes stare down at your weak figure, admiring your hollowed cheeks and stretched lips. His thumb sweetly swipes over your cheekbone, followed by a slap to the same area. When he pulls back, you choke up a mixture of nasty fluids, but there is no time to recover due to the way he forces your head to stay in place. Once more, you are overwhelmed by his length, his second needy cock now taking the spot inside your mouth. “Silence and a breedable womb are the best presents a woman can give.” As if to highlight his words, Sukuna pushes in deeper, the choked squeal of your panic drowned by his girthy cock as he holds your head in place, nails harshly digging into your scalp as he bottoms out.

His pelvis presses against your mouth and nose to further restrict your breathing. Every attempt at swallowing your saliva makes you feel his cock even more, it's almost impossible to stay conscious as Sukuna opts to abuse your throat only seconds after he enters you.

It hurts—the pistoning of his hips, the repetitive assault on your throat by his thick member, and the hateful words hitting your skin with no form of defence.

Demands to take it, to stop being weak and disgusting, are just a few of the many insults you have to endure. By now, your nails have left nasty scratches on his thighs as you desperately try to relieve some of the pain he forces on your body, while your mind isn’t sure if passing out would be the safer option for your sanity.

Tears won’t stop running down your face. The mixture of your spit, tears, and his arousal creates a nearly disgusting flavour in your mouth, causing you to gag further on his cock.

“Get your act together,” Sukuna bites. At this point, it actually feels like he is ripping strands of your hair out due to his harshness.

But you can’t—it’s impossible, especially once you feel him twitch at the back of your throat, prodding against the muscles of your pharynx. The second your tongue can nearly trace the load of cum being pumped through his shaft, Sukuna pulls out. You didn’t have time to notice him stroking his second cock, couldn’t register fast enough the fate you were about to meet as one of his hands holds your head in place.

Sukuna’s deep moan rings through the echoing hall and sears into your memory while the white-hot seed lands on your face and chest, tainting your figure with his cum.

It’s the most humiliating way of claiming you.

Sukuna kneels down to be at eye level with you, proudly taking in his all-white masterpiece before his thumb swipes part of his load off your cheek and holds it in front of your lips.

You glare at him, the hatred in your eyes a challenge he will fuck out of you. “Dumb little bird,” he murmurs while smearing his cum over your tightly sealed lips before hoisting you up and over his shoulder in an instant.

Sometimes it is best to show patience. Most of the time, it is better to teach through pain. Your fate for the night shall be to learn to love your throne, positioned on top of Sukuna’s lap, stuffed beyond your capabilities until either your mind or your body gives out first.

dividers by @/cafekitsune

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pucksandpower · 5 months ago

Text

Until Next Time

Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: in which two soulmates are destined to always find each other only to be torn apart lifetime after lifetime after lifetime … until finally, they’re not (aka the reincarnation AU)

Mycenae, 1208 BC

The sun beats down mercilessly on the marble steps of the temple. You stand at the top, your white chiton billowing in the warm breeze. Your eyes scan the crowd gathered below, searching for one face among the sea of onlookers.

“Where is he?” You whisper, your heart pounding.

A firm hand grips your shoulder. “It’s time, princess,” your father’s voice rumbles behind you.

You turn to face him, eyes pleading. “Father, please. This can’t be the only way.”

The king’s face is a mask of stone, but his eyes betray a flicker of sorrow. “The gods have spoken. We must obey.”

As he speaks, a commotion erupts at the base of the temple steps. Your breath catches in your throat as you spot Max pushing through the crowd, his face contorted with desperation.

“No!” He shouts, his voice carrying over the murmur of the crowd. “You can’t do this!”

Two guards grab him, restraining his arms as he struggles against their grip.

“Let me go!” Max yells, his eyes locking with yours. “She’s innocent! Take me instead!”

You start to move towards him, but your father’s grip tightens. “Don’t,” he warns.

“Max,” you call out, your voice breaking. “It’s okay. This is my duty.”

Max shakes his head violently. “No, it’s not! This is madness!”

The high priest approaches, his ornate robes rustling as he walks. “The sacrifice must be made,” he intones. “The gods demand it.”

You feel a chill run down your spine despite the heat. The priest’s eyes are cold as he regards you.

“Please,” Max begs, still struggling against the guards. “There has to be another way. Let me speak to the oracle. Maybe-”

“Silence!” The priest snaps. “The decision has been made. The princess will ensure a bountiful harvest for our people.”

You swallow hard, trying to steady your voice. “Max, listen to me. I need you to be strong.”

His struggles subside slightly as he focuses on your words.

“Remember what we talked about?” You continue. “About the stars?”

Max’s brow furrows in confusion for a moment before his eyes widen in recognition. “The cycle,” he breathes.

You nod, forcing a smile. “This isn’t the end. We’ll find each other again. I promise.”

“No,” Max shakes his head, tears streaming down his face. “I can’t lose you. Not like this.”

The priest clears his throat impatiently. “We must proceed.”

Your father gently guides you towards the altar. You resist the urge to look back at Max, knowing it will only make this harder.

“Wait!” Max calls out. “Just ... just let me say goodbye. Please.”

The king hesitates, then nods to the guards. They release Max, who rushes up the steps towards you.

He reaches you, cupping your face in his hands. “I love you,” he whispers fiercely. “In this life and every life to come.”

You lean into his touch, memorizing the feeling of his skin against yours. “I love you too. Always.”

Max’s lips crash into yours, desperate and salty with tears. For a moment, the world fades away, and it’s just the two of you.

Then rough hands are pulling you apart. Max struggles, but the guards drag him back down the steps.

“No!” He roars. “You can’t do this! She’s everything to me!”

You force yourself to look away, focusing on the altar before you. The priest approaches, a gleaming dagger in his hand.

“Oh great gods,” he begins to chant. “Accept this offering and bless our lands.”

You close your eyes, trying to block out Max’s anguished cries. You think of stars, of cycles, of promises of reunion.

The dagger plunges, and pain explodes through your body. As darkness creeps in at the edges of your vision, you hear Max’s voice, raw with grief.

“I’ll find you,” he vows. “In the next life, and the next, and the next. We’ll be together again. I swear it.”

As your consciousness fades, you cling to that promise. This isn’t the end, you tell yourself. It’s just the beginning of a much longer story.

Your last thought before the world goes black is of Max’s eyes, filled with love and determination. Somehow, you know that this is not goodbye — it’s just until next time.

London, 1542

The heavy oak door of your chambers creaks open, and you look up from your embroidery, heart leaping at the sight of Max slipping inside. His eyes dart nervously around the room before settling on you.

“My lady,” he whispers urgently, crossing the room in quick strides. “We must speak.”

You set aside your needlework, rising to meet him. “What is it? You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.”

He takes your hands in his, his touch sending a familiar thrill through you despite the gravity in his expression. “It’s worse than that, I’m afraid. I’ve heard whispers in the court ...”

Your breath catches. “What kind of whispers?”

Max’s jaw clenches. “Accusations. Terrible ones. They’re saying you’ve been unfaithful to the king.”

You gasp, shaking your head vehemently. “That’s absurd! I would never-”

“I know,” Max interrupts, squeezing your hands. “But the truth matters little when it comes to Henry’s jealousy. You know how he is.”

A chill runs down your spine as you remember the fate of the king’s previous wives. “What am I to do?”

Max’s eyes blaze with determination. “We’ll run away. Tonight. I have friends who can help us reach the coast. From there, we can sail to France or-”

The sound of heavy footsteps in the corridor cuts him off. You both freeze, staring at the door in mounting dread.

“Quick,” you hiss, pushing Max towards a tapestry-covered alcove. “Hide!”

He resists for a moment. “I won’t leave you-”

“You must,” you insist. “If they find you here, it will only make things worse.”

Reluctantly, Max ducks behind the tapestry just as the door bursts open. The king’s guards pour in, led by Thomas Cromwell himself.

“My lady,” Cromwell says with a cold smile. “I’m afraid you must come with us.”

You lift your chin, summoning every ounce of royal dignity. “On what grounds, Lord Cromwell?”

His smile doesn’t waver. “Treason, my lady. His Majesty has evidence of your ... indiscretions.”

“That’s impossible,” you protest. “I’ve been nothing but faithful to the king.”

Cromwell gestures to the guards. “Search the room. Thoroughly.”

Your heart pounds as they begin tearing through your belongings. You silently pray that Max remains hidden and undetected.

“This is outrageous,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady. “I demand to speak to the king himself.”

“His Majesty has no desire to see you,” Cromwell replies. “The evidence speaks for itself.”

One of the guards approaches, holding a folded piece of parchment. “My lord, we found this hidden in her jewelry box.”

Cromwell snatches it, his eyes scanning the contents. His smirk widens. “Well, well. A love letter, it seems. Quite damning, wouldn’t you agree?”

You shake your head in disbelief. “That’s not mine. I’ve never seen it before!”

“A poor defense, my lady,” Cromwell tuts. “Come now, we mustn’t keep the Tower waiting.”

As the guards move to seize you, Max bursts from his hiding place. “Stop!” He shouts. “She’s innocent!”

Cromwell’s eyebrows raise in mock surprise. “And who might you be, young man?”

Max stands tall, his gaze unwavering. “I can vouch for the queen’s innocence.”

“Can you now?” Cromwell’s tone is dangerously soft. “And how, pray tell, would you know such a thing?”

You see the trap too late. “Max, don’t-”

But he’s already speaking. “Because I’ve been watching over her. Protecting her. I would know if she had been unfaithful.”

Cromwell’s eyes glitter with triumph. “Watching over her, you say? How ... intimate. Guards, seize him as well.”

“No!” You cry out as the guards grab Max. “He’s done nothing wrong!”

“On the contrary,” Cromwell replies. “He’s just confessed to an inappropriate relationship with the queen. That’s treason, my dear.”

Max struggles against the guards. “It’s not like that! I love her, yes, but we’ve never-”

“Enough!” Cromwell snaps. “Take them both to the Tower. His Majesty will decide their fate.”

As the guards drag you from the room, your eyes meet Max’s. In that moment, a strange sense of déjà vu washes over you. You’ve been here before, somehow. Torn apart by forces beyond your control.

“It’s happening again,” Max says softly, his eyes wide with realization.

You nod, a sad smile touching your lips. “The cycle continues.”

“What are you two babbling about?” Cromwell demands.

Neither of you answer. What could you say that he would understand?

As you’re led through the winding corridors of the palace, Max’s voice carries to you. “I’ll find a way to save you. I swear it.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you call back, your voice catching.

“I kept the last one, didn’t I?” He replies. “I found you again.”

Memories flood your mind — hazy images of another life, another time. A temple, a sacrifice, a vow made in desperation.

“So you did,” you whisper.

The journey to the Tower passes in a blur. Before you know it, you’re being locked in a cold, damp cell. Through the small barred window, you can see the executioner’s block in the courtyard below.

Days pass. You pace your cell, alternating between fear and a strange sense of calm. This isn’t the end, you remind yourself. Somehow, you know it to be true.

When they come for you, you hold your head high. As you’re led to the block, you scan the crowd, searching for Max’s face. You spot him, restrained by guards, his face a mask of anguish.

“I love you,” he mouths.

“Until next time,” you reply silently.

As you kneel at the block, you close your eyes. You think of stars and cycles, of promises kept across lifetimes. The axe falls, and darkness descends.

Your last conscious thought is a mixture of sorrow and hope. This chapter may be ending, but your story with Max is far from over. In another time, another place, you’ll find each other again. The wheel turns, and the cycle continues.

Florence, 1633

The flickering candlelight casts long shadows across the cluttered study. You pace nervously, your skirts swishing against the worn floorboards. Max hunches over his desk, quill scratching furiously across parchment.

“Max,” you plead, “please reconsider. It’s not too late to recant.”

He looks up, his eyes bright with fervor. “I can’t, my love. The truth is too important.”

You move to his side, resting a hand on his shoulder. “More important than your life?”

Max covers your hand with his, his touch warm and familiar. “Some truths are worth dying for.”

“And what about living for?” You counter. “What about us?”

He stands, pulling you into an embrace. “Everything I do, I do for us. For a world where we can live freely, without the shackles of ignorance.”

You bury your face in his chest, inhaling his scent of ink and parchment. “I fear those shackles are stronger than you think.”

A sharp knock at the door makes you both jump. Max moves to answer it, but you grab his arm.

“Don’t,” you whisper. “It could be them.”

Max’s jaw sets stubbornly. “If it is, hiding won’t change anything.”

He strides to the door and throws it open. A young man stands there, panting heavily.

“Master,” he gasps. “They’re coming. The Inquisition. You must flee!”

Max’s face pales, but his voice remains steady. “Thank you for the warning, Giovanni. You should go before they arrive.”

The young man nods and disappears into the night. Max turns to you, his expression grim.

“You should go too,” he says softly. “There’s no reason for both of us to face their wrath.”

You shake your head fiercely. “I’m not leaving you.”

“Please,” Max implores. “I couldn’t bear it if something happened to you because of me.”

“And I couldn’t bear to abandon you,” you retort. “We’re in this together, remember?”

A ghost of a smile touches Max’s lips. “Always.”

You help him gather his most important papers and instruments, working quickly in the oppressive silence. As Max secures the last of his writings, you hear the ominous sound of marching feet approaching.

“It’s too late,” you breathe.

Max squares his shoulders. “Then we face them with dignity.”

The door bursts open, and armored men pour into the small study. At their head is Cardinal Bellarmine, his face a mask of righteous anger.

“Apostate,” he intones. “You stand accused of heresy against the Holy Church.”

Max steps forward, his voice calm. “I stand accused of seeking the truth, Your Eminence.”

The Cardinal’s eyes narrow. “You spread dangerous lies. You claim the Earth is not the center of God’s creation!”

“I claim only what the evidence suggests,” Max counters. “The movements of the heavens themselves tell us-”

“Blasphemy!” Bellarmine roars. “You would elevate your flawed observations above the word of God?”

You can’t stay silent any longer. “My lord Cardinal, surely God gave us minds to seek understanding. How can the pursuit of knowledge be heresy?”

Bellarmine’s gaze snaps to you. “And who is this who dares to question the Church’s judgment?”

Max steps protectively in front of you. “Leave her out of this. She’s done nothing wrong.”

“She defends a heretic,” the Cardinal sneers. “That alone is cause for suspicion.”

You feel a chill run down your spine, but you stand your ground. “I defend a good man who seeks only to understand the wonders of God’s creation.”

Bellarmine waves dismissively. “Take them both. We’ll sort out her involvement later.”

As the guards move to seize you, Max erupts into action. He grabs a heavy tome from his desk and hurls it at the nearest guard, then pushes you towards the window.

“Run!” He shouts. “I’ll hold them off!”

You hesitate, torn between fleeing and staying by his side. In that moment of indecision, a guard grabs you roughly by the arm.

“No!” Max cries out, lunging towards you.

Another guard intercepts him, slamming the butt of his halberd into Max’s stomach. He crumples to the ground, gasping for air.

“Stop!” You plead. “We’ll come peacefully. Just don’t hurt him.”

Bellarmine smirks. “A wise decision. Though I’m afraid it’s too late for leniency.”

As the guards bind your hands, you lock eyes with Max. There’s a strange, sad recognition in his gaze.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I thought this time would be different.”

You shake your head, a bittersweet smile on your lips. “It’s not your fault. It never is.”

Bellarmine looks between you, confusion evident on his face. “What nonsense is this?”

Neither of you answer.

You’re led from the study, through the torch-lit streets to the forbidding walls of the Inquisition’s headquarters. As you’re separated and thrown into different cells, Max’s voice carries to you.

“I’ll find you again. I swear it.”

“In this life or the next,” you call back, your voice breaking.

Days blur together in your dank cell. You’re questioned relentlessly about Max’s work, about your involvement. You reveal nothing, clinging to the hope that your silence might somehow spare him.

When they finally come for you, you know it’s not good news. You’re led to a small courtyard where a pyre has been erected. Your heart sinks as you see Max already tied to the stake, his face bruised but defiant.

“Heathen,” Bellarmine proclaims, “you have been found guilty of heresy. Do you repent your sins?”

Max’s eyes find yours in the crowd. “My only sin,” he says clearly, “is loving truth more than dogma.”

The Cardinal’s face darkens. “Then may God have mercy on your soul. Light the pyre.”

As the flames begin to lick at Max’s feet, you can’t contain yourself any longer. You break free from your guards and run towards the pyre.

“No!” You scream. “Max!”

He looks at you, his eyes full of love and sorrow. “Until next time, my love. We’ll get it right someday.”

The guards grab you, dragging you back as the flames engulf Max. His agonized cries pierce the air, but his gaze never leaves yours.

As the light fades from his eyes, you feel a piece of your soul shatter. But deep within, a tiny spark of hope remains. This isn’t the end, you tell yourself. It can’t be.

Somewhere, somewhen, you’ll find each other again. The wheel turns, the cycle continues, and your love endures beyond death itself.

Atlantic Ocean, 1912

The grand ballroom of the Titanic thrums with life, an orchestra playing a lively waltz as couples twirl across the polished floor. You stand at the edge of the crowd, your gloved hands fidgeting with your beaded gown. Your eyes scan the room, searching for one face in particular.

“Looking for someone?” A familiar voice asks behind you.

You turn, a smile lighting up your face as you see Max, dashing in his tailored suit. “There you are! I was beginning to think you’d gotten lost.”

Max grins, offering you his arm. “Even on a ship this size? Never. Though I must admit, I did take a wrong turn or two.”

You laugh, taking his arm. “Well, I’m glad you found your way eventually. I’ve been dying to dance with you all evening.”

As Max leads you onto the dance floor, a strange sense of déjà vu washes over you. You’ve danced with him before, you think. In grand halls and humble taverns, across centuries ...

“What’s that look for?” Max asks, pulling you from your reverie as he places a hand on your waist.

You shake your head, smiling. “Nothing. Just ... happy, I suppose.”

He beams at you as you begin to waltz. “As am I. Being here with you, it feels ... right. Like everything’s fallen into place.”

You nod, leaning into him slightly. “I know exactly what you mean.”

As you dance, the world seems to fade away. It’s just you and Max, moving in perfect synchronicity. But the spell is broken as a violent shudder runs through the ship.

Max steadies you as you stumble. “What was that?”

Around you, other passengers are looking around in confusion. The music has stopped, the musicians exchanging worried glances.

“I’m not sure,” you reply, a sense of unease growing in your stomach. “Perhaps we should-”

Your words are cut off as a ship’s officer bursts into the ballroom. “Ladies and gentlemen, please remain calm. We’ve struck an iceberg, but there’s no immediate danger. As a precaution, we ask that you all put on life vests and make your way to the boat deck.”

A ripple of nervous chatter sweeps through the crowd. Max’s grip on your hand tightens.

“We should go,” he says urgently. “Now.”

You nod, allowing him to lead you through the increasingly panicked throng. As you make your way through the corridors, the ship’s list becomes more pronounced.

“This is bad,” Max mutters, helping you navigate a particularly steep section. “Much worse than they’re letting on.”

You reach your cabin, quickly donning life vests over your evening wear. As you step back into the corridor, you’re met with a tide of frightened passengers.

“We need to get to the boat deck,” Max says, his voice steady despite the fear in his eyes. “Stay close to me.”

You push through the crowd, the ship’s groans and creaks growing louder with each passing moment. When you finally reach the deck, chaos greets you. Officers are struggling to maintain order as passengers clamor for spots in the too-few lifeboats.

“Women and children first!” An officer shouts over the din.

Max turns to you, his face pale but determined. “You need to get on a boat.”

You shake your head vehemently. “Not without you.”

“Please,” he begs, cupping your face in his hands. “I couldn’t bear to lose you.”

A memory flashes through your mind — Max saying those same words in another time, another place. Always trying to save you.

“And I couldn’t bear to leave you,” you insist. “We stay together. No matter what.”

Max’s eyes search yours for a long moment before he nods. “Together, then.”

As the night wears on, it becomes clear that there won’t be enough lifeboats for everyone. You and Max help where you can, assisting women and children into the boats. The temperature drops, your breath visible in the frigid air.

“I think that’s the last one,” Max says as you watch the final lifeboat disappear into the darkness.

You look around the rapidly tilting deck. Those who remain are a mix of resigned, terrified, and in denial.

“What do we do now?” You ask, your voice small.

Max takes your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours. “We face it together. Like we always have.”

As the ship’s stern begins to rise, you and Max make your way towards the railing. The screech of twisting metal fills the air as the Titanic starts to break apart.

“Max,” you say, your voice trembling, “I’m scared.”

He pulls you close, his arms strong around you. “I know. But remember, this isn’t the end. Not really.”

You look up at him, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t you feel it?” He asks. “The familiarity? Like we’ve been here before?”

As you stare into his eyes, flashes of memory assault you. A temple in ancient Greece. A Tudor court. A Renaissance study. Always you and Max. Always torn apart.

“The cycle,” you whisper.

Max nods, a sad smile on his face. “We’ll get it right someday. I promise.”

The ship lurches violently, and you cling to each other as you’re thrown into the icy Atlantic. The shock of the cold water drives the breath from your lungs.

“Max!” You gasp, struggling to keep your head above water.

“I’m here,” he calls back, swimming towards you. “Hold on to me.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, your limbs already growing numb from the cold. Around you, the cries of other passengers pierce the night.

“It’s so cold,” you murmur, your teeth chattering.

Max holds you tighter. “I know, love. Just stay with me.”

As the minutes tick by, the cries around you grow fewer. You can feel your strength ebbing, your grip on Max weakening.

“Hey,” Max says, his voice hoarse. “Stay awake. Look at the stars with me.”

You force your eyes open, gazing up at the crystal-clear sky. “They’re beautiful,” you manage.

“Just like you,” Max replies. “In every life, in every time.”

You smile weakly. “You always were a charmer.”

“And you always saw right through me,” he chuckles, the sound turning into a cough.

As your vision begins to dim, you summon the last of your strength to speak. “Max? Promise you’ll find me again?”

His lips, blue with cold, press against your forehead. “Always. In this life and the next, and all the ones after.”

The cold fades, replaced by a spreading warmth. As consciousness slips away, your last thought is of Max’s eyes, filled with love and the promise of reunion.

The wheel turns. The cycle continues. And somewhere, in another time, another place, two souls prepare to find each other once more.

Washington DC, 1968

The air is thick with tension and the acrid smell of tear gas. You stand at the front of the crowd, your hand tightly gripping a homemade sign that reads “MAKE LOVE, NOT WAR.” The chants of the protesters around you swell and ebb like waves crashing against the shore of the Lincoln Memorial.

“Hey,” a familiar voice calls out. You turn to see Max pushing his way through the crowd, his shaggy hair falling into his eyes. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

You smile, relief washing over you. “I was starting to worry you wouldn’t make it.”

Max reaches you, his hand finding yours. “Wild horses couldn’t keep me away. Though the police barricades nearly did.”

You squeeze his hand. “I’m glad you’re here. This feels ... important. Like we’re on the brink of something.”

He nods, his eyes scanning the growing crowd. “I know what you mean. It’s like the whole world is holding its breath.”

As if on cue, a new chant starts up. “Hey, hey, LBJ! How many kids did you kill today?”

You join in, your voice blending with the thousands around you. Max’s deeper tone resonates beside you, sending a shiver down your spine that has nothing to do with the autumn chill.

Suddenly, there’s a commotion at the edge of the crowd. You stand on tiptoe, trying to see what’s happening.

“What is it?” Max asks, concern etching his features.

“I’m not sure,” you reply. “It looks like ... oh no.”

A line of police officers in riot gear is advancing on the crowd, batons at the ready.

Max’s grip on your hand tightens. “We should fall back. This could get ugly.”

But you stand your ground, shaking your head. “No. We can’t let them intimidate us. We have a right to be here, to make our voices heard.”

“I know,” Max says, his voice tight with worry. “But I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

As the police line gets closer, tensions in the crowd rise. Someone throws a bottle, and it shatters at the feet of an officer. In an instant, chaos erupts.

“Disperse immediately!” A voice booms over a megaphone. “This is an unlawful assembly!”

But the crowd doesn’t disperse. If anything, the chants grow louder, more defiant. You feel Max tugging at your arm.

“Come on,” he urges. “We’ve made our point. Let’s go before-”

His words are cut off by a loud bang. For a moment, you think it’s a firecracker. Then you see the tear gas canister arcing through the air.

“Gas!” Someone shouts, and panic ripples through the crowd.

Max pulls you close, covering your mouth and nose with his bandana. “We need to move, now!”

You nod, coughing as the acrid gas begins to sting your eyes. Together, you push through the panicked crowd, trying to reach the edge of the park.

But the police are closing in from all sides. You see batons swinging, hear the cries of pain and anger from your fellow protesters.

“This way,” Max says, pulling you towards a gap in the police line.

You’re almost there when you hear a scream behind you. Turning, you see a young woman on the ground, an officer standing over her with his baton raised.

Before you can think, you’re moving towards them. “Stop!” You yell. “Leave her alone!”

“Y/N, no!” Max calls after you, but you’re already out of his reach.

You throw yourself between the fallen woman and the officer, your arms outstretched. “Please,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady. “She’s not a threat. We’re peaceful protesters.”

The officer hesitates, his baton still raised. For a moment, you think he might listen. Then you see his eyes harden behind his visor.

“I said disperse!” He shouts, bringing the baton down.

You close your eyes, bracing for the impact. But it never comes. Instead, you hear a grunt of pain and open your eyes to see Max in front of you, taking the blow meant for you.

“Max!” You cry out as he crumples to the ground.

You drop to your knees beside him, cradling his head. “Max, can you hear me?”

He groans, his eyes fluttering open. “Are you okay?” He asks, his voice weak.

You nod, tears streaming down your face. “I’m fine. Why did you do that?”

A ghost of a smile touches his lips. “Couldn’t let you have all the fun, could I?”

Despite everything, you can’t help but laugh. “You idiot,” you say fondly.

The moment is shattered by another round of tear gas canisters landing nearby. The acrid smoke billows around you, making it hard to breathe.

“We need to get out of here,” you say, trying to help Max to his feet.

But as you stand, you feel a sharp pain in your side. Looking down, you see a growing red stain on your shirt.

“Y/N?” Max’s voice sounds far away. “Y/N, what’s wrong?”

You stumble, your legs giving out. Max catches you, lowering you gently to the ground.

“Oh God,” he says, his face pale with shock. “You’ve been hit.”

You look down again, seeing the bullet embedded in your side. The pain is distant, almost unreal.

“It’s not so bad,” you try to reassure him, but your voice comes out weak and shaky.

Max presses his hand to the wound, trying to stem the bleeding. “Help!” He shouts. “We need a medic!”

But his cries are lost in the chaos around you. The world seems to be fading, growing dim at the edges.

“Max,” you whisper, reaching up to touch his face. “I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head fiercely. “Don’t you dare apologize. You’re going to be fine, you hear me? We’re going to get through this.”

You smile sadly, a strange sense of déjà vu washing over you. “We always say that, don’t we?”

Max’s brow furrows in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Every time,” you murmur, your strength fading. “We always think this time will be different.”

Understanding dawns in Max’s eyes, along with a deep, aching sorrow. “The cycle,” he whispers.

You nod weakly. “But it’s okay. We’ll get another chance.”

“No,” Max says, his voice breaking. “Not again. Please, Y/N, stay with me.”

But you can feel yourself slipping away. The pain is gone now, replaced by a spreading warmth.

“Find me again,” you breathe, your eyes starting to close. “Promise me.”

Max’s tears fall on your face as he leans close. “I promise. In this life or the next, I’ll always find you.”

As consciousness fades, your last thought is of Max’s eyes, filled with love and the weight of lifetimes. The wheel turns, the cycle continues, and somewhere, two souls prepare for yet another chance at forever.

Monaco, 2024

The soft morning light filters through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the bedroom. You’re curled up against Max, his arm draped protectively over your waist. The steady rhythm of his breathing is a comforting constant, one you’ve grown accustomed to over the years.

A gentle weight lands on the bed, followed by a soft meow. You open your eyes to see Jimmy padding across the duvet.

“Morning, Jimmy,” you whisper, reaching out to scratch behind his ears. He purrs contentedly, settling down in the small space between you and Max.

The movement stirs Max from his slumber. He blinks sleepily, a smile spreading across his face as he focuses on you. “Good morning, schatje,” he murmurs, his voice still rough with sleep.

You lean in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “Morning, champ. Sleep well?”

He nods, pulling you closer. “Always do with you by my side.”

As if on cue, another weight lands on the bed. Sassy makes her presence known with a demanding meow.

Max chuckles, reaching over to pet her. “Good morning to you too, princess.”

You can’t help but laugh. “I think someone’s jealous of all the attention Jimmy’s getting.”

“Can’t have that, can we?” Max says, scooping Sassy up and placing her on his chest. She immediately starts kneading, purring loudly.

You watch them with a fond smile, a wave of contentment washing over you. “I love this,” you say softly. “Just ... all of this.”

Max turns his head to look at you, his eyes filled with warmth. “Me too. Sometimes I can hardly believe it’s real, you know?”

You nod, understanding completely. “I know what you mean. It’s like ... we’ve been waiting for this for so long.”

“Lifetimes,” Max agrees, a hint of something ancient in his gaze.

You both fall silent for a moment, lost in memories that feel more like dreams — flashes of other lives, other times, always reaching for each other but never quite able to hold on.

Jimmy stretches, breaking the spell. You laugh as he nearly pushes Sassy off Max’s chest in the process.

“Alright, you two,” Max says, gently moving the cats aside. “I think it’s time for breakfast.”

As if understanding his words, both cats leap off the bed and head for the door, meowing insistently.

You groan, burying your face in Max’s shoulder. “Five more minutes?”

He chuckles, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “You know they won’t let us rest until they’re fed.”

“True,” you sigh, reluctantly sitting up. “I suppose we should get up anyway. Don’t you have that interview today?”

Max nods, running a hand through his tousled hair. “Yeah, in a couple of hours. Nothing too intense though, just a quick chat about the next race.”

You swing your legs over the side of the bed, stretching. “Want me to make coffee while you feed the furry overlords?”

“Sounds perfect,” Max says, getting up and pulling on a t-shirt. He pauses at the door, looking back at you with a soft smile. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?”

You feel a warmth bloom in your chest, the same feeling you get every time he looks at you like that. “You might have mentioned it once or twice,” you tease. “But I never get tired of hearing it.”

Max crosses the room in two quick strides, pulling you into a deep kiss. When he pulls back, you’re both a little breathless.

“I love you,” he says, his forehead resting against yours. “More than I ever thought possible.”

You cup his face in your hands, thumb tracing the line of his jaw. “I love you too, Max. Always have, always will.”

A loud meow from the hallway breaks the moment. You both laugh, the spell broken but the warmth lingering.

“Duty calls,” Max says with a wink, heading out to tend to the cats.

You make your way to the kitchen, starting the coffee maker and pulling out mugs. As the rich aroma fills the air, you can hear Max in the other room, talking to the cats as he fills their bowls.

“There you go, Jimmy. Easy, Sassy, there’s plenty for both of you.”

You smile to yourself, struck once again by how perfect this all feels. It’s not just the quiet moments like this morning — it’s the way Max lights up when he talks about racing, the pride in his eyes when he brings home another trophy. It’s the way he holds you after a particularly rough day, or the sound of his laughter when you’re goofing around together.

Max joins you in the kitchen, wrapping his arms around you from behind as you pour the coffee. “Smells amazing,” he murmurs, nuzzling into your neck.

You lean back into him, savoring the moment. “The coffee or me?”

“Both,” he chuckles, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

You turn in his arms, handing him his mug. “So, what’s on the agenda after your interview?”

Max takes a sip of coffee, thinking. “Not much, actually. I was thinking maybe we could have a quiet day in? Watch a movie, order takeout?”

“Sounds perfect,” you say, your smile widening. “I’ll even let you pick the movie this time.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Even if it’s another racing documentary?”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Even then. Though I reserve the right to fall asleep on your shoulder if it gets too technical.”

“Deal,” Max grins, pulling you close for another kiss.

As you stand there in the kitchen, coffee in hand and cats weaving between your legs, you’re struck by a profound sense of rightness. This is what you’ve been searching for, life after life. This quiet, domestic bliss with the man you love.

“What are you thinking about?” Max asks, noticing your thoughtful expression.

You smile, leaning into him. “Just ... how happy I am. How perfect this all is.”

Max’s arms tighten around you. “It really is, isn’t it? Sometimes I wonder if I’m dreaming.”

You pinch his arm lightly, laughing at his mock-offended expression. “Definitely not dreaming.”

“Good,” he says, his voice soft and sincere. “Because I never want to wake up from this.”

As you stand there in the morning light, surrounded by the life you’ve built together, you silently thank whatever force has finally allowed you and Max to find your happily ever after.

The wheel has turned, the cycle has ended, and at last, your souls have found their home.

2K notes · View notes

cottonlemonade · 2 months ago

Text

Fake Dating Your Ex

word count: 2852 || avg. reading time: 12 mins.

pairing: University AU pining ex!Kenma x chubby!Reader

genre: fluff + angst

warnings: bullying

request: For a midnight snack I’ll get a 15 and 24 and go back to sleep with kenma please || fluffy-angsty, fake dating + jealousy, ex Kenma

“Question.”

“No.”

“You don’t even know what I’m gonna ask yet.”

“Fine. What?”

“How would you, as a person… as a…. as a human person”, you shook your head for a moment but then decided to roll with it, “feel about accompanying another human person to an event?”

Your ex finally looked up from the console in his hands with profound confusion written all over his face.

“What?”

Bracing yourself you tried again, spelling it out this time, “Would you please come with me to my high school reunion?”

You expected him to frown, sure, but instead of the immediate shot down he asked, “Why?”

Not a No. Okay!

Pulling up a chair from the adjacent lunch table to sit down across from him, you used your hands in a nowhere near helpful fashion to explain, “I got invited and originally I said No because why would I want to go but then this girl who used to bully me-“

“Momoka.”, he added.

“Yes.”, you said in surprise, “Her. Anyway, she messaged me and asked if it’s because we broke up.”

“How would one correlate to the other?”

“Because while we were dating I may or may not have bragged pretty excessively about you.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And you were all over my social media for two years and well, now you’re not, so she was asking if we split up.”

“We did.”

You tried not to click your tongue, thinking any sass would lower the likelihood of him agreeing to play along. “I know, but I don’t want her to know. So I may or may not have kinda sorta said that we are doing better than ever and just because you gained so much more popularity that we are trying to keep it on the down low and”, you took a deep breath, “she said I should bring you then and I may or may not have said Yes.”

“Y/n.”, he groaned.

“I know, I know! But I will get you SlimeBlast2 and the new Counterforce if you just pretend to be my boyfriend for one more evening. We can even leave early!”, you offered, spurred on by the fact that he hadn’t yet simply gotten up and left, “You can say that you have a planned stream that night and be back home before you know it.”

He thought about it for a moment while he resumed his game.

“Why have a reunion three years out of high school anyway?”

You mimicked her voice. “Because she is moving to America with her doctor fiancé and wants to say goodbye to everyone before she leaves. - Tch.”

He paused the game again and regarded you with a studying look. You, on the other hand, were focused on kneading your chubby fingers and not meeting his gaze.

“When is it?”

“So this is what all that streamer money can get you, not bad, not bad.”, you said as you slid into the passenger seat of his new car. Kenma didn’t comment on that. Nor did he compliment your little black dress that had him do a minuscule double take the way it hugged you in all the right ways. You broke up six months ago and instead of wallowing in a dark room as you had done, Kenma chose retail therapy - to the extent that every other day another out-of-breath mail carrier was ringing his doorbell and handed him anything from new consoles to games to figurines and even a body pillow because, thanks to you, he was now incapable of sleeping without something soft and squishy in his arms. This car was one of those more recent purchases, an impulse that surged in him around the same time he watched you flirt with a TA. He also felt the forgotten price tag itch in the back of his black button-down and matching dress pants he wore tonight.

The drive to the venue was mostly silent due to a mixture of old comfort and new awkwardness. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw you play with your fingers, twirl your hair, scratch at your neck, and chew your lip.

“No one forces you to go to this thing.”, he eventually said. His GPS announced that you’d arrive soon.

You stopped scrunching your dress, sighed, and looked out the window onto the well-lit row of restaurants and bars you were driving past.

“I know. Social pressure does, though.”

“You never really cared about what people thought.”

“Ha! Good one.”, you countered drily.

“I mean it.”

“You only think that because we didn’t know each other in high school. This devil-may-care attitude”, you gestured vaguely up and down yourself, “was carefully curated once I was finally free of these people.”

“So, why not just ignore the reunion and go do something fun?”

“You know, if you’re gonna keep being right and logical, this night is not gonna work.”

He smiled and rolled to a stop in the parking lot among many other cars.

“We can still leave.”

You scratched at your neck again. He reached out to grab and trap your ever-busy hand in his, laying it gently on the middle console. He waited.

“Yeah… maybe you’re-“

“Hey!”, a muffled call accompanied by knocking on your window cut you off. Outside stood one of your former classmates waving excitedly.

Kenma grimaced.

“Look who I found getting all cozy in the car!” The large private room in the restaurant was filled with a whole bunch of people you hoped to never see again. They sat on the floor around the long table, apparently a couple of drinks ahead already.

“Oh my god, Y/n! I can’t believe you came!” Momoka got up to greet you like an old friend. Her cheeks were pink and she was clearly not too steady on her feet.

“What’s this? - Is that a hickey?!”, she squealed with mock scandal, pointing at your neck.

Your hand shot up to cover the reddening mark.

“I-uh-“

“Yeah, I just… couldn’t help myself.”, Kenma said in a tone that wouldn’t convince anyone sober. Luckily no one was.

She turned to him and as if she’d known him for years she slurred, “Well if it isn’t Kodzuken! I’m gonna be honest, I didn’t think you were real. I mean, of course you’re real but what would you ever want with our Y/n, when you could have anyone!” She laughed and ushered you both to sit next to her.

“I’m so sorry.”, you whispered to Kenma while cups of sake were pushed into your empty hands.

“Tell me, because I’m dying to know”, Momoka said, leaning forward, “how did you two even meet?”

The handful of former classmates in your general vicinity stopped their conversations to listen.

Kenma and you looked at each other.

“We just met at uni.”, you shrugged and pulled a platter of food closer to have something to do.

“Oh come on, Y/n-chan, there’s gotta be more to it than that.”, Momoka playfully pushed your shoulder.

“It was our first day actually.”, Kenma said, “I was sitting in the cafeteria playing a game and she came up to me with her tray and asked if she could join me.”

You caught his eyes and smiled, touched that he remembered.

“Of course, you met over food. Our Y/n loooves to eat, doesn’t she?” Momoka giggled into her sake.

Unfortunately, your mouth was just full of maki roll.

Kenma frowned.

“So, Kodzuken - or should I call you Kenma? You’re probably so tired of people addressing you by your username. Like hello, I’m a human being, too! So Kenma, what is it like being a streamer? I, personally, love YouTube. I think if I hadn’t gotten engaged”, she raised her hand to show off her ring, “I would have also gone into streaming. It looks so fun. And you’re just playing games all day. I love playing games. You could say I’m a gamer girl myself.”, she laughed and brushed her hair behind her ear like she was confessing something embarrassing, “I have played Animal Crossing over 100 hours. I know it’s too much, but what can I say, you understand, right? Sometimes you can’t put a game down for months.”

“… right.”

When he didn’t answer as bright-eyed and infatuated as she hoped, she turned to you with a devious smile, “Our Y/n should definitely do some of those… uh eating shows! You know, the ones where they just eat ungodly amounts of food at once. She’d be so good at that. Honestly”, she chuckled behind her hand, “I could have sworn she was training for that in high school.”

“Excuse me. I have to go to the bathroom.” You pushed your untouched sake further away, stood up, and walked quickly out of the room, sliding the door closed behind you. Muffled voices, cheers, and laughter could still be heard. You swallowed the lump in your throat and took a few deep breaths. Slipping back into your shoes you walked over to a corner with an open window that looked over the quiet courtyard that was closed for guests because of the snow. What a horrendous idea to even come here. Why did you think it would be any different? People didn’t change. As soon as you were in the company of your bullies suddenly you turned back to the timid little fat girl that was pushed into cold showers with her uniform on, that was tripped in the hallways, hackled in class for a wrong answer. The girl that was pointed at whenever she ate something. It didn’t matter what it was.

Normal lunch? - What a glutton!

A homemade salad? - Who is she trying to impress? As if that is gonna do anything.

It was only in university that you found people who accepted you for who you were and not what you looked like. And Kenma had made you feel loved and wanted for the first time in your life. Until he didn’t. You vividly remembered the night you broke up with him. His genuine shock when you told him that just hanging out and watching him stream was not how you envisioned your relationship to be like. After over two years of dating, you realized that you wanted more than dry texts and being the one to initiate intimacy. Kenma was a great listener and didn’t rush you into anything. He let you grow on your own and was truly happy when he saw you smile. But it wasn’t enough. You didn’t regret breaking up with him. It was the right thing to do. But whenever you felt stressed or overwhelmed you did seek out his streams. His calming voice and deadpan comments still helped you truly relax. You wondered if he missed you too sometimes.

“You’re gonna catch a cold.”, Kenma said behind you.

“Hey.”, you sighed, “Sorry I dragged you into this.”

“Don’t worry.” He came to stand next to you, close so that his arm was touching yours for a sliver of warmth. You both watched the snow fall for a moment.

“You really toned down just how obnoxious those people are.”, he noted, “I understand that you’re upset.”

“Oh, I am not upset. I am way past upset. I’m freaking miffed, that’s what I am.”

He gave a playful gasp. “Damn, not the m-word. - By the way, that girl hit on me the second you left the room.”

“Oh god, really?”, you scoffed.

“Yeah, apparently I’m on her list.” He put the last word in air quotes. “Like she can sleep with me and her fiancé would be fine with it.”

“Wooow, congratulations. Doesn’t that make you feel extra special.”, you said sarcastically.

“Absolutely.”

“Truly the bedrock of any good and healthy relationship.”

He chuckled under his breath. “I know, right? As if I’d ever want anyone else when I have you.”

A pause followed in which you were trying to find covert ways to push your face in the snow to cool it down and Kenma regretted ever learning to speak.

“Listen…”, he said after a minute or so, “why don’t we get out of here? You made an appearance, proved I’m real and now you can go enjoy your night. Maybe… maybe we can head to your place, get some pizza, and watch a bunch of those trashy Christmas rom-coms? I know Netflix is flooded with them right now.”

You stared at him for a moment, then squinted suspiciously. “I’m gonna yell at the TV, you know that.”

He smiled and his eyes softened.

“I’m counting on it.”

You looked down at your arm that was still gently pressed against his, thinking.

“Alright.”

“Alright?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. I’m gonna go get your stuff then. - Here.”, he fished his keys from his pocket, “You can wait in the car, I won’t be long.”

You turned the keys over in your fingers as you watched him go, shaking your head in an attempt to smother the bubbling feelings in your chest. As you walked out towards the car, you tried to remember in what state you had left your living room when-

“Y/n?”

Very confused, you lifted your head and saw a young man standing a few meters away. He was maybe a head taller than you, broad shoulders were well hidden underneath a soft sweater and coat. Nothing about the man seemed familiar, not the glasses or the styled black hair. He must have noticed your confusion when he put a hand to his chest and said, “Izumo.”

Kenma was very glad that he wasn’t raised to be polite so he just gathered your purse, scarf, and jacket, said you both would be leaving, and closed the door behind him. Even though at most 20 minutes had passed since your arrival, it felt like you and he had stood by that window for hours watching the snow. He should tell you that he wasn’t over you.

He should tell you that he wouldn’t make the same mistakes again if you’d give him another chance.

He would ask you to take him back.

His steps lengthened at the thought of being back at your place, cozy on the couch and having an absolute ball listening to you rip the movies to shreds. Pulling his puffy parka tightly around him he hurried in the direction of his car and saw you talking to someone. At first, he was worried it would be another bully but then you laughed. His steps slowed.

N…no! He was not about to lose his opportunity to get you back to some random hunk with a sleeper build. Picking up the pace again, he thought hard about what to do. What happened next was not one of his proudest moments. Kenma came to a halt next to you, lay your jacket over your shoulders, and said, “Here you go, babe.”

“Oh, hey, you’re Kodzuken!”, the guy said and had the audacity to give him a genuine smile, “I’m a big fan! I’m glad to see you two are doing well. I wondered if you might have broken up because you haven’t posted about him in a while, Y/n.”

You laughed nervously.

“No, nothing like that.”, Kenma said, and, developing a life of its own, his arm naturally wrapped around your waist, “Everything’s great.”

“That’s what I thought.”, the guy said brightly, his eyes flitting momentarily to the mark on your neck and to Kenma he added, slightly flustered now, “You got yourself a good one.”

“Did you want something?”

“I- uhm.”, Izumo blinked, perplexed, “No, just catching up. But I see you’re on your way out. Have a good night you two. And Y/n, we should totally have coffee.” Kenma pulled you closer to him. “You know, when you have the time.”

Very glad his much-practiced glare was still hitting the mark, Izumo bowed to both of you and went inside.

Once in the car, Kenma looked at you, mentally preparing himself for a scolding but found you smirking and nodding your head.

“What?”, he asked.

“Nothing just…. Didn't have you being jealous on my bingo card this year. Interesting.”, you clicked your tongue in amusement, “Very interesting.”

“I wasn’t j-“

You met his eyes and cocked your brow.

He mumbled something and turned to focus on his steering wheel so you wouldn’t see the hue of pink blooming in his cheeks.

“Izumo was bullied in high school, too.”, you explained, “So he was one of the few people I got along with. We weren’t ever super close or anything but I’m glad he seems to be doing well.”

“Oh. Well… okay then.”

“So no need to be jealous, babe.”, you echoed his tone with the last word perfectly.

His face felt even warmer.

“In my defense, he looked like he was about to ask you out.”

“Uh huh.”, you became, if possible, even more smug and clicked your seatbelt into place, “I mean, could you blame him?”

It was remarkable how quickly your confidence bounced back by simply watching Kenma squirm for an answer.

art: 8.amidori_RN on Twitter

a/n: thank you so much to the anon for this absolutely juicy request. I hope you enjoyed it! And thank you everyone for waiting 🌱🌟

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brain-ghost-akechi · 6 months ago

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Read left to right.

[asks are open for and about this au ^^]

#dark reunion au #saiki kusou no psi nan #tdlosk #the disastrous life of saiki k #saiki k #kusuo saiki #saiki kusuo #kusuke saiki #saiki kuusuke #saiki kusuke #kuusuke saiki #how do i spell his name help me #oh dear god

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nomsfaultau · 4 months ago

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With enough determination, Techno can probably ignore that too!

From chapter 6 of Mandatory Family Reunion

#Mandatory family reunion #sbi #technoblade #sbi au #dsmp #mcyt #techno fanart #techno angst #For the trauma specifically not the mental illness #Dark sbi #Wilbur: what do you mean you don’t have ptsd? What have you been doing in therapy??#Techno: listen I’ve been busy with finals-#something to nom on

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tumblerislovetumblerislife · 3 months ago

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......................there's an au now, too

reunion charles, here to do your socialising for you and to fuck up your high school bully!

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camelots-rose · 2 years ago

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Dark Grimalkin

Parameter

Strength: A

Endurance: B

Agility: C+

Mana: C

luck: E

NP: ???

Personal Skills

Dragon-Slayer: B

Riding: C

Tactics: B-

Class: Lancer

Class skills

Magic Resistance: B

Noble Phantasm

Cataclysm

Rank: A

Type: Anti-unit

Helm of The Black Cat

Rank: D+

Type: Anti-Unit (Self)

#miraculous ladybug #dark grimalkin #ml reunion #ml reunion spoilers #cat miraculous #miraculous plagg #ml au #queen turned guardian #ml fate au #character sheet

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readerforexiao · 3 months ago

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𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐖𝐎 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃𝐒 | 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ

⌗ Sylus x Fem!Reader | married + parent au, romance, fluff, light angst | tw: pregnancy, childbirth trauma, post partum, first time parents, mental health struggles, insecurites, anxiety, underlined depression, panic attack, reference to trauma and loss, implied violence + death, somewhat lore compliant | wc: 4k

⌗ A/n: this is only the beginning. The groundwork has been laid and now i can focus on the family dynamic </3. To my dearest friend who helped me whenever I got stuck, I'm immensely grateful🌹

⌗ “I would do it all again. Choose the wait of a century…” he said between kisses, each peck a declaration that you understood the meaning behind every tender touch and every whispered promise sealed in the air. “Take my last breath as if it were my greatest honour. Because I am yours. All of me…"

On the day you appeared as real as the nightmares that haunted him, your fingers felt smaller than his and rougher than he remembered. Your gaze had lost its affection and stretched before him like a frayed horizon— becoming an unravelled boundary between the warmth he knew and the unknown beyond.

Where there had been a luminous depth like the pale glow of moonlight brushing over still midnight waters— lay a turbulent sea withdrawn and untouchable that even the sense of belonging he once felt had slipped away in the last light of dusk fading into the distance.

It shook him from his thoughts and back into a reality he could not escape.

A reunion, he’d called it when the bullet pierced his chest the blood stained his shirt. A test, a reawakening, he led himself to believe when the tendrils of his evol began their slow work of regeneration. Sylus knew desperation had driven him and not mere calculation.

In all selfishness, he wanted to lay his darkness bare before you because he could not stand the idea of your ignorance while he remembered it all, those empty memories in place of where he once resided.

Sylus was but a child broken by betrayals, a man defined by those scars, and shaped by the ominous hands of fate. His aggression and impatience were the results of more than mere habits; they became ingrained parts of his nature.

Cold and unyielding became of his features; red eyes marked by the devil’s touch, a name both feared and revered. But then you crossed the chasm of his fractured soul, pressing your hands into open wounds and putting your nose where it did not belong with a promise of forever. And he could still hear the manic laughter that echoed at your naivety.

Was it a challenge or a taunt in the way you pushed his buttons? Or had he simply lost his mind, finding himself helplessly drawn under your influence?

It was maddening how in every life you drove him from a man who’d never known love to a fool at your feet. And so, seeing you wander into the N109 zone like a lost kitten searching for its owner, the familiarity broke him.

In a moment of reckless clarity, his heart made the decision that handed you a weapon and certainly his demand was a cruel form of intimacy, it wasn’t the love he wanted to show, but it was the only way he thought would reach across the gulf between you.

The echo of the shot dissolved into silence, and he searched your face, his sanity splintered, the tether fraying and refusing to connect. It hadn’t worked. Of course not. How foolish, how desperately pathetic to hope otherwise.

Yet he tried again… for his heart ached for you. But each time he reached for the past he was met with resistance, caught in a relentless cycle.

He chased the memory of you to his end, time and time again, watching as you flashed those bright eyes at another, laughter and tender touches shared with someone warmer. You were cared for and shown how to live in this life by someone who knew how to protect you beneath the stars. Much like another had monitored your heart and anticipated your needs, just as he had done.

It made his attempts feel insignificant.

But Sylus did not relinquish you even then, nor did he dare to ruin your happiest moments for he knew he would always be yours, and with patience, you would be his.

You saved him, after all.

It was that single resolve to keep wanting you that brought him to this moment, cradling his new-born daughter close to his chest, marvelling at how impossibly light she was in his hands, how easily they could break her.

He couldn’t believe it— after all the mistakes he made and the things he ruined, this was his life now, even though he hardly felt worthy of it.

She was a miracle, blessed with eyes parallel to his own, deeply doused in red— a colour he once loathed for its synergy with blood, but here it was soft and untainted in her eyes as they fluttered open and peered up at him.

His feet were spellbound and lodged between the crevices of the earth by her existence, that alone granted him all he thought beyond his reach.

Merely days that she’d been in this world and already had she turned his life upside down.

“Awake already, little one?” He whispered, it had barely fifteen minutes since she drifted off.

A smile crept onto his face as he fell back into the rhythm of soothing her fussing. Sylus glanced at the untouched cot in front him, cold and empty, as he held the infant it was intended for. He mused, knowing that it would remain that way for many more nights.

He pivoted on his heels and walked around the room with her. She was entirely dependant on him, he realized, as he adjusted her over his shoulder, being careful with her neck and the amount of movement he made. Though it wasn’t in the way others before her had been; not in the way you were.

As he strolled around the room, his consciousness meandered through the landscape of this existence, a world steeped in complex relationships where dependence often came with strings attached.

He considered the people who worked under him at Onychinus, each cloaked in their own shadows, driven by desperation of sorts.

Most had sold their souls and traded their humanity for survival or power, engaging in incomprehensible acts to prove their worth.

To each their own, their choice to wallow in the filth beneath him. But even as they cowered in fear at his feet, there still lingered a pride and expectation— a desire for something in return.

Their loyalty was a currency exchanged for blood-stained bills and the hollow promise of protection. And even someone as powerful as him needed their willing hands, for he could not accomplish everything by himself.

He recalled a meeting with an operative, a sharp-witted woman who approached him with a proposal, eyes gleaming with ambition. “I need your backing on this, Sylus. In return, I can secure a major supply route,” she had said, her tone confident.

Despite his annoyance, he complied, aware her loyalty hinged on the favours he could grant her, a waltz of give and take that left no room for trust. For now, he needed her; she had yet to prove her worth in his plans.

Then there was Orion, a man large and sturdy in appearance, though his bulging stomach gave him a rounded look. Greedy at heart, he was nonetheless useful for his keen eye for anything of value, which meant Sylus would keep him around until he no longer served that purpose.

Perhaps these relationships weren’t the best examples to use as they only highlighted his dependence on them rather than theirs on him. But that was far from the truth.

He knew these people leached off him; they would be nowhere without his support. They depended on his money, power, and influence. If he chose to assert himself then they would be quickly reminded of who held their leashes.

It was different when it came to you. Your need of him was honest, not just a need for survival or security but something deeper. His presence grounded you and his strength fortified you.

In a time of unrelenting chaos, his support was a solace. It was a reliance that transcended mere necessity; it was built on trust and intimacy, a bond that flourished in the shadows of his empire.

What he gave, he received in kind. The love he showered, returned tenfold.

Still, you were able to stand on your own two feet without him. It wasn’t the same for his daughter who stared up at him seemingly captivated by his presence just as he was by hers.

With her, it was nothing of the kind. There were no ulterior motives, no agendas, no expectations— she just needed him. Not as Sylus, the leader of Onychinus— a cold-blooded monster— or as a sacrifice, but simply as her father. It was a stark contrast to the world outside, a world where trust was a rare commodity and relationships were transactional.

He welcomed the feeling of being needed by someone like her.

“What?” He grinned with a brow raised in playful questioning as he laid her in the center of his bed, watching her tiny form melt into the blankets.

Her features wrinkled in response to the shift in surroundings and it was a strange sensation to see her there in the middle, occupying the space where he would lay with you entangled.

She drew him in the same way you did. Suddenly, his heart pounded against the confines of its cage, swelling with a mix of pride and protectiveness, but it also raced with an emotion he found hard to perceive.

“You are everything I am not” The words coursed between them in secrecy, barely more than a whisper in a tone absent of the conviction and poise it usually had, softened alone by the rise and fall of her chest.

She was beautiful, held in the arms of a father who loved her.

He let his fingers trace her small hand, so delicate compared to his own scarred knuckles— hands hardened by the demands of survival, by years of a life he hadn’t chosen but had been thrust into, one of cold stares and distant voices, where warmth was something fought for, not given freely.

“But that doesn’t matter, because I will show you a world that won’t bruise you for breathing” he said, bringing his lips upon the dainty swell of her cheeks.

She would know laughter that wasn’t tainted with bitterness and shelter that didn’t feel like a cage. In his arms, she would know what it was like to be wanted, protected, and cherished in a way he had once only dreamed of.

“And you will be loved for simply existing.” He promised, prodding at the balance of existence.

For tonight and forever on, he made that vow to be her protector and her greatest source of strength. A promise made in sincerity on his life; on the heart given to you— the one he would use to love this child.

She would never find herself in the same situation as her mother, clinging to him amid the storm on the eve of a failed battle. Your head buried against his neck, your hands drenched in his blood and hooked onto his shirt, your beautiful face twisted in pain. The red receding from his one remaining eye, taking with it a promise unkept.

No, that was his tragedy, and never will it be hers. He would shield her from it all, lay the world in her hands if she so desired, and tear it apart all the same if it ever dared to harm her.

She stirred at his words as if she was answering him and Sylus didn’t know it was possible to fall in love all over again with someone other than you.

He let his gaze linger on her a moment longer, then looked up toward the door waiting for you to return.

It had taken some convincing, but he’d finally insisted you step out just for a brief reprieve after the whirlwind of the past few days. You agreed but reluctantly so, though he knew you hadn’t wandered far and you most likely were in a hurry to return.

Already, motherhood had taken root within you.

By the time you returned, showered and fed, you found yourself missing your husband and daughter even more.

You crossed the threshold, the soft orange glow of the lamps welcomed you and immediately you found Sylus standing over the bed with his back to you, the baby fussing in his arms.

Your whole world in one scene.

“I can feel your eyes on us, sweetie,” He announced, not even needing to turn around to sense your presence.

You wrapped your arms around his midsection and rested your head against his back, letting the rhythm of his breathing soothe you.

Out of nowhere, a knot tightened in your throat and Sylus as if sensing it, turned to envelop you tighter.

A whiff of black musk breached your nose, his signature scent evoked memories of late nights spent in each other’s company, of whispered confessions and last goodbyes.

Your body did not move in his hold, but your hands gripped his shirt for dear life.

You felt yourself begin to float, the ground beneath your feet dissolving. Then the memories of labour crept in from the edges, stirring the same deep unshakable pain. It clawed its way to the surface, latching onto your mind, the sensations as vivid and overwhelming as if it were happening all over again.

You shuddered at the recollection of your screams when you were urged to push, the buzzing they left behind still droning in your ears.

Beads of sweat formed on your skin and smeared, leaving behind faint marks on Sylus’ chest.

“Look at me,” he urged, guiding you to sit on the bed.

He sank onto his knees. A man who never lowered himself to anyone now knelt before you, his worry palpable in the way his thumb hurried in pursuit of your endless stream of tears.

You were in so much pain he could see it reflected in the quaking of your pupils and the tremor of your fingertips, he was reduced to nothing but an onlooker and his touch hesitant.

“That’s right, keep your eyes on me”

You followed his voice as he counted down your breaths.

“Sylus…” you whispered.

“I’m here,” he kissed your knuckles, the touch of his lips like a hot ember on your skin.

“I hoped that once she was here, everything would… piece together. But it’s not like that at all” You sucked in a breath, “Instead, I feel overwhelmed. Every time I see her little face, I can’t shake the feeling that I’m not enough— that somehow, I’ve already failed, just like I have with everything else”

“I understand, but—”

“Her life depends on me,” you shook your head as you continued, urgency creeping into your tone. “She’s the one person I don’t want to let down”

“You’re not failing her. You’re here, and you’re trying. It’s—”

“It’s hard to see that when I feel like I’m drowning,” you interrupted, your frustration bubbling to the surface. “What if I can’t give her the life she deserves? What if I mess this up? What if my lack of understanding hurts her in the future, and she grows up feeling unloved or unsupported?”

Sylus stopped you, firm yet gentle in his approach. “Why do you punish yourself with such careless thoughts?”

He held your gaze, filled with admiration for your strength— so different from his own, as he often ran and hid from his battles.

“Let me remind you we’ve faced challenges before, you and I alone, long before we found each other, isn’t that right, Sweetie?” You nodded reluctantly, and he went on, “In all you’ve done so far, it hasn’t come naturally; it’s taken your time, blood, sweat, and tears, but didn’t the results yield something good? All things worth doing are hard, and you’ve done something incredible by bringing life into this world. It’s something that inevitably reshapes all you know into something unknown, so isn’t it okay to feel a little overwhelmed? We’re here, we’re present, and we’re willing to learn and that’s what matters most”

His sincerity cut through the rapid thudding in your head, quieting your tears to faint breaths.

There was validation in his words, even though you struggled to pinpoint your emotions or the kind of solace you sought because sometimes words just felt insufficient, especially when you knew they couldn’t bring about instant relief.

But even in the moments where nothing was said, Sylus was there—always there through it all, and perhaps that was why you believed everything he said despite the perturbation prancing inside you.

You inhaled shakily, closing your eyes to find a semblance of calm but the tears kept flowing and Sylus wiped them away each time. His hand came to rest on your stomach, the warmth from his palm seeping into your skin.

“You have me right here” The weight in his voice thicker than you’d ever heard before. A tremor slipped through, like he was holding back a flood with every syllable.

This was Sylus— your Sylus— who never allowed a tear to fall… until now.

A lone tear traced his cheek in defiance, his eyes tinged with red veins surrounding the crimson of his irises, as if daring him to show his vulnerability, and his head fell gently into your lap.

He pressed a kiss to your clothed thigh, lips lingering as if that one touch could steady him

He couldn’t let you see how affected he really was; couldn’t reveal that the weight of worry had been pressing on him just as heavily. For all his certainty, his strength, his fear wasn’t for himself.

"However you need me… because my love for you is all I have left to offer, as a man with nothing else to give" Sylus’s gaze flickered to yours, and you felt his breath catch as your fingers ran over the damp line on his cheek.

He raised himself, his nose brushing against yours as he tilted his head to connect his lips with yours. The subtle flavour of salt mingled on your tongues. Sylus felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude for being alive. After everything that had happened, the stillness around you revealed that all you desired was his closeness more than ever.

Sylus pushed up onto his knees to deepen the kiss, tender and sweet with an undercurrent of urgency in his movement.

“I would do it all again. Choose the wait of a century… ” he said between kisses, each peck a declaration that you understood the meaning behind every tender touch and very whispered promise sealed in the air. “Take my last breath as if it were my greatest honour. Because I am yours. All of me…"

The rush of tears had now passed and you let the cradle song of contentment bathe you. Though fatigue tugged at your bones, hope flickered like a candle in the darkness. Your hearts pulsed in harmony, the burdens of worry lingering in the air, but never alone, he reminded you.

If Sylus was yours to love and hold, then you were his in sickness and in health. You belonged to each other, and if your souls were forever intertwined, then your daughter would be the embodiment of that shared love.

“She will be ours” you said breathlessly against his mouth and Sylus’ eyes, once the vivid red of fresh blood deepened to a dark almost infinite crimson, his eyelids heavy, pupils dilating.

“Ours…” He repeated, tasting the word as though it were new, something he wanted to savour.

He said it again, quieter this time, and the walls he so carefully constructed around himself, crumbled under the pressure of his emotions.

The sentiment set the mood thick, the way the flecks of gold marble enriched the lustreless grey walls; four corners that became the keeper of all your intimacy and your secrets, a witness to every unspoken thought and keen desire.

Now, they would also stand witness to the joy of your child as she grew, recording the moments of wonder, each giggle, every first step, and the murmur of her first words.

It would become her safety, her home, in the arms of those who loved her most.

You and Sylus found yourselves immersed in the soothing of your conscious when the sudden wail broke the tranquillity, causing him to pull back, his eyes wide with surprise.

The unexpected interruption jerked a laugh from your throat and in an instant, Sylus left your side and had the infant in his arms, a grin spread across his face while he ran a hand through his tousled hair.

He grabbed the nursing pillow from the cot on his way to you just as you settled against the pillows and pulled down your shirt to feed her.

“You know, I think she gets her appetite from you.” you giggled when she hungrily latched onto your nipple.

Sylus chuckled, watching his girls. “I’d like to think I’m a bit more civilized about it.”

You gaped at him before punching his leg, which caused a stir from the child who clearly disapproved.

“Sorry, sorry,” you quickly apologized, repositioning her to latch back on.

“A bit demanding too, aren’t you little one” he remarked, poking her cheek.

You glared at him. “You have something to say to me, honey?”

“Put the claws away, kitten. I only meant it as an observation” he said, his voice still low, though there was amusement in his tone.

“Careful, Sylus, or I might just take preference of your daughter over you" You quipped.

He scoffed as he climbed into bed beside you, “That’s a rather cruel thing to say. Shouldn’t you be happy she has one of your... traits?”

“Oh god…” You opened your mouth to retort, words catching on your lips, and whatever you meant to say dissolved in an instant as a thought took hold: what if she did inherit everything from her father and not just his beautiful eyes?

Your expression shifted, giving way to a contemplative silence.

“What is it?” He asked.

“She can have your looks, that’s fine, but as for your personality…”

He looked up from his daughter, breaking away from the sight of their adorably clashing eyes to fix you with an incredulous look. “What’s wrong with my personality?”

Did he really need to ask that?

“You’re difficult..”

Sylus clicked his tongue, “I’d prefer the term ‘tenacious and efficient,”

“Well I’d prefer the term ‘handful’”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

It wasn’t. Not particularly… you think?

With an all-too-familiar quirk of his lips hinting at amusement, you began to feel slightly annoyed— especially when your daughter’s insistent latch brought a sudden twinge of discomfort.

“It’s all fun and games until she turns out exactly like you” you muttered, half-jokingly.

He raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. “What did you expect, sweetie?”

“Right, because I was fully aware of the implications of breeding with a handful,” you teased.

“You know what I hear? Jealousy” He drawled.

“Jealousy? Really?” You narrowed your eyes.

His grin widened, “If she does turn out to be a little me, I wouldn’t mind adding another to balance things out… maybe one who takes after you.”

“Jeez, Sylus! It’s way too early for that.” You pushed his face away, laughter escaping your lips as your daughter, now full, drifted off with her tiny tongue still out, sleepily suckling at the air.

Both of you awe-struck at the sight before Sylus gathered her up and settled her across his chest while you nestled beside him, resting your head on his shoulder as your hand slipped over his, covering the one he kept protectively on her back.

After a moment, he spoke, “You know, no matter what she inherits from me, I’m grateful it’s you who brought her into this world. You’re the heart of our little family, and no matter what our future holds, I’ll always be here to support you”

By this point you were barely able to keep your eyes open, exhaustion pulling you toward sleep, but you heard him loud and clear.

“I’m lucky to have you,” you whispered back.

The last thing you remembered as Sylus’ kissing your forehead and pulling the blankets up to your chin.

“Sleep well, beloved"

Do not copy, steal, or repost to any other platform 🥀

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taesanrot · 8 months ago

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[thinkin bout you] taesan x f!reader | 5.8k words high school au, childhood friends 2 lovers, slight e2l, fake dating, first kiss, moving away and reunion kinda ???, also bffs 2 lovers ish, smut at the end note. happy (late) birthday to my lovely kay <333 hope u love it my cherry pie. sorry to everyone for how long this took, finishing this fic almost broke me. (and yes heres another taesan fic for the anon who was asking). also highly recommend listening to steve lacy while reading this, the plot was v inspired by infrunami and the entire lo-fis album :]

the first time you met taesan, he didn't give the grandest first impression. not that you really expected to be blown away by a six year old boy, but meeting him while he was covered in mud wasn't what you were anticipating either.

your family had just moved next to the boy's house, and as you picked dandelions and flowers from the front yard to collect and keep, you couldn't help but notice a young boy playing in the garden of the house next door. turning to see you, the boy giddily bounded over to you, introducing himself joyfully.

you should've been nicer; he was just another little boy enjoying the breezy summer day, but you couldn't help scrunching your nose as you eyed him up and down. his knees were green with grass stains and his arms and legs were covered with swipes of dirt, a bit of mud sticking to his cheek.

within a minute, his mother noticed her son poking his nose outside of the yard and came over to collect him, chiding his dirtiness and sending him back to his own abode. taesan pouted for less than a second before smiling brightly at you, waving happily as he ran back to his house. you frowned slightly at his bright demeanor.

although you were the same age as taesan, something both of your mothers were delighted by, you considered yourself more mature and too grown up for kiddish activities, and this logic applied to others your age as well.

growing up as well, you found boys to be immature and difficult creatures, always finding yourself repelled by their confusing antics. taesan was just any other boy to you, childish and juvenile.

despite your obvious disdain towards the young boy, your families still spent a great deal of time together. they were always encouraging the two of you to get along; you never had any of it.

taesan caught onto this attitude pretty quickly as well, wondering why you didn't like him. he decided he'd rather play with his toy cars and lay in the grass than dwell on it though.

this was how your dynamic was, the two of you in an unspoken agreement that it would be better to just leave each other alone.

you saw less and less of taesan after his parents decided to enroll him in a private school to finish out his middle and high school years. to be honest, you couldn't have cared less -- your childish neighbor was far from your mind as you immersed yourself in your high school sports, particularly enjoying volleyball and swimming.

being on both teams for your school and trying to keep your grades up took up the majority of your time, meaning you hadn't exactly experienced the infamous teenage romance, as your parents liked to call it.

you didn't know why your parents cared about your love life so much. you felt perfectly content with your school activities and your various friends, not feeling the need to burden yourself with a boyfriend.

taesan was similar to you in that way; after growing into adolescence and beginning teenagerhood he began to delve into music, writing and composing songs became his life. granted, he'd had a couple flings here and there, so he wasn't completely in the dark when it came to relationships.

for his final semester of his senior year, taesan ended up transferring back to your high school. you found out about this when you watched him run out the front door one morning as you were unlocking your car, ready to drive yourself to school.

you almost didn't realize it was him, granted the last time you'd gotten a proper glance at him was when the two of you were maybe 12. his once chestnut brown hair was dyed jet black, and the curliness of it had settled and loosened so it was just slightly wavy.

he'd grown at least half a foot, shoulders broad and sturdy. you eyed his long legs that carried him to the bus that he was practically chasing. biting a laugh back, you watched him sheepishly smile at the bus driver, who rolled his eyes before letting the boy on.

the next time you saw taesan was that evening actually. returning home after swim practice, you saw your mom in the living room vacuuming the floors. pausing for a moment, she unplugged the machine to greet you, hugging you gently and asking how your day was.

"nothing crazy. practice was fine too." your mom fought the urge to sigh out loud. you were always talking about sports while she was constantly hoping you'd come back telling her that you'd met someone.

"that's great, honey" she faked a smile at your denseness, turning around to continue cleaning.

"taesan's back." for a moment, your mom looked caught off guard before smiling again, hoping if she acted normal you'd be encouraged to continue.

"and?"

"he looks different" you spoke as you fell onto the couch, rubbing the back of your neck.

"it's been years since the last time you saw him, hasn't it?" you nodded.

"he's going to my school now." you smiled again thinking about how silly he'd looked this morning.

"i know, i invited him and his mom over for dinner today." your mom replied sheepishly, anticipating an outburst of sorts from her daughter.

"what?" you sputtered in surprise, eyes wide as you stared at your mom.

"what? they're our neighbors, plus i haven't had a chance to catch up with mrs. han in a while." you groaned at the idea of an awkward dinner and having to dress nicely. you trudged up the stairs to your room to wash your hair and find some decent looking clothes that weren't your team sweats.

you were helping your mom set the table when the doorbell rang, sighing as your mom giggled and turned to answer the door. hearing both of your moms' giddy voices around the corner as they greeted each other, you sat on the couch in your living room. taesan walked past his mom and your mom reuniting and appeared around the corner, meeting the sight of you scrolling on your phone on the couch, smiling as you texted someone.

"hey." your gaze immediately fixed on taesan. he had grown up well, his jawline defined and lips tinted pink. his mouth had sort of a natural pout to it, and his eyes were a pretty shade of chocolate. his hair was long, bangs growing out and parted down the middle to fall down his ears and frame his face.

you made note of his figure as well, shoulders broad and torso narrowed into his waist. he was tall, much taller than you'd thought this morning.

standing at the end of the couch you were on, his hands were stuffed in his pockets as he took you in.

you'd also grown up quite a bit in the past couple years. your once shorter hair was longer and flowed down your shoulders, with partially lightened streaks sprinkled throughout from swimming.

you were also quite toned from how active you were, and taesan's eyes traced the lines down your neck as you straightened your posture.

"hi." you replied, lazy voice contrasting your stiff demeanor. he eyed your dressy top and jeans before looking down at his old band tee and ripped jeans.

"was i supposed to wear something nicer?" he asked sheepishly, shoulders slumping in relief as you shook your head no and smiled at him softly.

dinner wasn't really anything unordinary, mainly consisting of your parents conversing with taesan's mother as you and the boy ate in silence next to each other. at one point, you heard your name tossed around in conversation, looking up in response.

"y/n! you and taesan should carpool to school together!" you fought to suppress a groan and eye roll as you watched your moms cheerily converse about the arrangement.

you enjoyed your drives to and from school alone, giving you some peace and solitude. no more of that, i guess, you thought bitterly.

"you ride to school in silence?" taesan asked after swinging your car door open and stepping in. you yawned loudly. early mornings never really agreed with you.

"i don't really have time to listen to music." taesan raised his eyebrow at this.

"don't have time? what are you, the president?" surprisingly, taesan's quips made you crack a smile. considering how you'd felt about him before, you figured riding with him would be a bother.

as you got to know taesan better, though, you realized there was much more to your neighbor than met the eye. he introduced you to his favorite bands and showed you various musical genres. he taught you about a new genre every week, on a personal mission to help you find your favorite. you enjoyed watching him geek out about music, and you began to learn which artists and genres you liked the most.

eventually, taesan would come wait for your practices to end, often sitting in the bleachers and working on homework with headphones shoved in his ears.

you'd always bound up to him after, breathing shallowly as you tugged his earbuds to let him know you were done. he found you to be like a puppy at times like that, panting and waiting for him to pack up his stuff so the two of you could return home.

"is volleyball hard?" he asked one day on your drive home. this week was indie, a soft steve lacy song floating through the air as you turned to look at him.

"not really, it's pretty simple." taesan's face told you he disagreed. before he open his mouth retaliate, you spoke.

"i can teach you."

spending time with taesan was easy. sometimes, you felt like you were going crazy, pulling any excuse from the book to spend time with him. the two of you clicked so well, something that caught you off guard much more than you'd like to admit.

the semester passed by quicker than you could blink, and suddenly you were swept up in end of the year preparations. before you knew it, you were graduating.

pulling the cap over your hair, you turned to your parents.

"how do i look?" they both smiled happily at you, mirroring your own bright grin.

the ceremony felt like a dream, or like you were watching yourself out of your own body. diploma in hand, you were now outside, taking pictures with your various teammates and friends and teachers. at one point, while you were snapping pictures with your friend, belle, you caught a glimpse of raven black hair in the crowd.

glancing over, you saw taesan taking pictures with a small group of boys, the same ones you'd seen him around school with. there were also a couple of guys also looked about your age but weren't in caps and gowns.

either way, taesan's smile shone brighter and grasped your attention more than anything else. his eyes shrunk into crescents and his teeth were pearly white; if you squinted, a halo would probably appear over his head. you watched with a small smile as his friends pulled at his cap and ruffled his hair affectionately.

eventually, the two of your moms found each other and you were being pushed next to taesan to take a picture together.

"smile, kids!" you couldn't help but smile at their giddiness. looking up at taesan, you saw him chuckling as well. his arm wrapped around your side as your parent's cameras flashed.

"you both look so lovely together!" your face reddened with embarrassment at your mom's words, and you quickly slapped her arm to shut her up. taesan was left watching you walk away from him, eyes trained on the way your hair swung and how the wind ruffled your gown.

with school finally out, summer was in full swing. you didn't have any plans in particular, wanting to make the most of the next few months before the next phase of your life.

your mother seemed to have other plans, though. while you could tell she was less than happy with your lack of a boyfriend or even a fling throughout high school, she wasn't even trying to hide it anymore.

"y/n honey, mrs. jung's son is single. he's a sweet boy, you two should go out!"

"mom i said n--"

"and you're free thursday evening, perfect! i just texted his mom back!"

the date went as you expected -- painfully awkward. the two of you simply didn't mesh, conversation always fading off into thick silence. your frustration with your mother certainly didn't help either, you thought as you accidentally slammed the boy's car door when he picked you up.

falling onto your bed, you sighed and yanked your phone out of your purse, calling taesan. he was probably working on some beats right now anyways. the phone rung for a few seconds before you heard his raspy voice on the other side of the line.

"what's up?" he spoke lazily. you could hear the squeak of his chair as he leaned back in it.

"my mom sent me on a blind date." hearing him snicker at the other end of the line, you frowned.

"no way, how'd it go?" you answered with a loud ugh, causing taesan to fully burst out laughing.

"terrible, it was so fucking awkwa-- stop laughing asshole!" you cursed at taesan's chuckles.

"when did your mom decide to be your wingwoman?" you groaned, rolling over in your bed and fiddling with the end of your blanket.

"i don't know, but i hope this is the last one." you sighed in response.

unfortunately, fate was not on your side; the date with mrs jung's son was only the beginning of your mother's antics. your friday night plans now routinely consisted of an uncomfortable dinner date and ranting to taesan about it after.

ringing his doorbell, you waited for someone to answer while scrolling through your phone. you deleted your date, gyuvin's, number and hoped to god he picked up on your disinterest and didn't text you again.

looking up as the door opened, you were met with taesan's mother. mrs. han pulled you into a warm hug as she asked how your night was.

"ugh, don't ask, mrs han. i don't know how many more of these dates i can do." she smiled fondly at you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as you two walked into the house.

"i'm sure you'll find the right guy eventually sweetie, he might be right under your nose." mrs. han elbowed you slightly, her expression playful. you laughed and kicked off your shoes.

"is taesan in his room?" she nodded and teasingly shooed you up the stairs.

taesan heard your slow steps up the stairs, not bothering to look up from his laptop until you were standing in his doorway, arms crossed. you were silently waiting: for acknowledgement and permission to come in. you knew you were always welcome into the boy's room, but taesan silently appreciated the way you respected his space.

"hey." he spoke, smiling and pausing the track playing from his laptop. he had been mixing, as usual. the second his voice left his lips, your shoulders slumped and you threw yourself face down onto his bed, groaning.

"i hate my life." you grumbled, the sound of your voice muffled by taesan's duvet. he chuckled, patting the back of your head playfully.

"there, there." he murmured sarcastically, and you rolled over so you could smack his hand away. taesan looked far more comfortable than you, in his pajama pants and a sweatshirt rather than a tight, uncomfortable blouse and skinny jeans.

the boy listened to you like a puppy as you delved into all the unfortunate details of your night.

"he showed up on a bike?" taesan's face was nearly red as he fought to not laugh. your already grumpy frown only deepened further, and you brought your hands up to massage your temples gently.

taesan's eyes locked on your fingers, mesmerized by your slow movements. moving his gaze down further, he quietly watched your muscles in your hand and forearm tense and contract with your ministrations.

the boy wouldn't tell you this, but he loved the nicer tops you wore, he loved when he could see the way your collarbone sat and trace the delicate curve of your neck with his eyes.

"taesan?" your quiet voice broke him out of his stupor of thought. his eyes refocused on your face, bringing a hand up to scratch the back of his neck. he hoped his hair was covering his reddened ears.

"why don't you just tell your mom you don't wanna go on dates anymore?" he spoke lazily, ignoring the way you narrowed your eyes, still trying to read into his previous glances. you shook your head, turning onto your back to face the ceiling. taesan was still propped against the headboard, his laptop and headphones now set aside.

"she won't listen. i know it's because she cares about me and thinks she's helping me out but i'm really tired of the whole routine." taesan's eyes softened. besides your teammates at school and him, you really weren't the most social person out there, blooming the most in the company of those you cared about the most.

taesan could tell the dates had taken a toll on you; the anxious preparation and stiff conversation wore you out much more than you let on. taesan was glad you trusted him with your thoughts and feelings -- he always wanted to be there for you through anything.

the boy moved forward so he was leaning over you slightly and nudged your shoulder with his knee.

"this is gonna sound really stupid, but you could just tell your parents that we're dating." you wanted to laugh but no words left your mouth, mind frozen trying to process what he was saying.

truthfully, what took you more off guard was the soft look in taesan's eyes as he looked down at you through his fluffy bangs. sitting up, you looked for any hint of playfulness or sarcasm in his face.

"really?" you asked confusedly. you hoped you didn't sound off put by the idea, the last thing you wanted was to hurt the feelings of the boy trying to help you.

"i mean, it would get your mom off your back, right? plus, she'd be pretty happy to know it was me of all people that you're with." with that, you smiled and rolled your eyes while shoving taesan lightly.

"oh because you're the hottest guy to ever walk this earth." you laughed as taesan sulked.

"that's not what i meant! you're such an asshole sometimes." taesan's pouted in the most exaggerated way possible, making you chuckle even harder. he was happy you were smiling again.

"besides your little ego trip, i do think it's a good idea." you spoke quietly, slightly embarrassed at how much you liked the idea of taesan looking out for you.

the two of you didn't really set rules, just that you'd hold hands and act a little more affectionate when the time called for it. to be frank, you and taesan didn't have to do much more than you already did; the two of you hung out pretty often anyways, now opting for calling your get togethers "dates" for show.

your mom was obviously thrilled when you told her about you and taesan. she went on a whole tangent about how she just knew the two of you would finally realize you liked each other.

what surprised you more was taesan's mom's reaction. she was not one bit surprised, even going as far as giving both of you a knowing look as you shyly stood next to each other in the kitchen while she brewed her coffee.

you were puzzled, not only by her meaningful gaze at the two of you but also at the redness flushing onto taesan's neck and cheeks. you told yourself he was just embarrassed that his mom was acting so blunt.

friday came along, and for the first time in a month, you were free. no stupid blind date, no painful conversation that made you want to rip your throat out and use it as a garnish for your pasta.

"we should celebrate." you blurted into the silent air. you and taesan were both laying on your floor, music playing from your laptop on your desk as the two of you sat in each others' company. taesan was writing in his journal, probably working on song lyrics, while you read a book. looking up from his notes, taesan clicked his pen and smiled at you.

"what do you wanna do?" you didn't have to look at taesan to hear the smile in his voice. while the two of you already hung out pretty much every day, it felt like the two of you were attached by the hip ever since your arrangement began.

taesan might've been going crazy, but he was enjoying your company too much.

he realized something was wrong with him when he starting smiling while taking out the trash; all because taking out the trash meant he could glance over at your house and wonder what you were up to.

what is going on with me? he thought to himself as he bumped his forehead on the lid of the trashcan, trying to snap himself out of his you-induced daze.

"wanna go see a movie?" you suggested timidly, waiting for taesan's reaction. you don't why you were so worried, you knew he was always down to do anything, but for some reason you wanted to pick something you know he'd like.

"can we get slushies?" taesan shot back, already getting up from the floor and reaching a hand to help you up.

"your parking sucks," the boy in your passenger seat quipped as you nearly took up two parking spots in the cinema's parking lot. looking around, the lot was nearly empty anyways. you turned and flicked his forehead, laughing as he whined dramatically.

"shut up, idiot." you watched taesan make an offended face and grab his chest theatrically.

"idiot? is that how you treat your poor boyfriend." you laughed at his loud gasping. reaching over, you ruffled your hand in his hair.

"i might be nicer if my poor boyfriend was the one driving us." you teased jokingly.

"fuck you, my parents needed the car!"

stepping past the ticket counter, the two of you made your way to concessions, looking for snacks for the movie.

“i got it.” taesan mumbled as he took your drink cup from your hands and walked up to the counter. you followed him with a teasing smile on your face, watching him pay for both of your drinks and a shared popcorn.

“i’m swooning” you joked as he took the receipt from the cashier and handed your cup back to you. he rolled his eyes in response, muttering something along the lines of you being annoying. you knew he didn’t mean a word of it, a small smile painted on his face as the two of you walked over to the drink station.

as you filled up your slushie, you suddenly felt taesan behind you. he quickly brought a hand to rest on your waist and bent to lay his head on your shoulder.

confusion overtook you. but more than that, you could feel your chest heating up and breaths shallowing. the skin of taesan’s chin rested on your shoulder and his breath tickled your ear gently; you had to physically restrain yourself from shivering.

after popping a cap on your drink and grabbing a straw, you turned to look at the boy behind you. you were already near whiplash from how close he was to you, his chest nearly touching yours.

“what was that about?” you tried to sound as unaffected as possible, hoping he couldn’t hear your heartbeat thrumming under your skin.

taesan looked at you for a second and looked over his shoulder again before taking a step back. his hands were shoved in his pockets and he bit his lip nervously.

“i think i saw my mom’s friend.” your eyes widened, tilting your chin to peek past his shoulder. if she was actually there, she was gone, probably in one of the theaters.

the two of you found your seats and your body finally cooled down. the more you thought about it, taesan's whole act wasn't really necessary. it wasn't like anyone was really suspecting of the two of you lying and the two of you looked enough like a boyfriend and girlfriend when you walked around.

sneaking a glance at your "boyfriend," you had never wished to know what he was thinking more than that moment. were the past 5 minutes replaying in his brain over and over again like they were in yours?

you couldn't even pay attention to the movie that was playing, mind and thoughts wholly dedicated to the boy eating popcorn next to you. the skin on your sides almost burned to feel his hands on them again.

clenching your fist, you fought to push the increasingly inappropriate thoughts about taesan away. you didn't understand why it was affecting you so drastically, you and taesan had been holding hands and hugging with no problem.

the way taesan's tall frame towered over you and had nearly wrapped around you as he rested on your shoulder made you head spin. he'd felt so warm behind you, like a blanket draping over you.

shivering slightly at the thought, you caught taesan's attention again.

"are you cold?" he whispered quietly, already taking off his zip up to give to you. you shook your head frantically, slightly horrified at him noticing your odd behaviour and misinterpreting it.

unfortunately for you, it was already too late and the boy draped the jacket gently over your legs, innocently smiling at you before looking back at the screen. you were absolutely certain there was no way you were surviving the next hour.

you were now fully wearing taesan's jacket as the two of you walked back to your car. you were trying to focus on anything besides the boy's warmth seeping from his hoodie into your skin.

taesan could tell something was off, eyes lingering on your slightly stiffened shoulders. at the same time, he was thinking about how he enjoyed the sight of you in his jacket a little too much for his liking. the sleeves reached past your wrists, almost to your fingers.

"did you like the movie?" taesan asked softly, glancing at you curiously.

you both were now sitting in your car, a slow rnb song playing softly from the stereo of your car. taesan's body turned slightly to face you. you, on the other hand, were staring straight ahead, not wanting make eye contact with him in fear of the visceral reaction you might have.

"um, yeah, that one girl was funny." you didn't even know why you were pretending you remembered the damn movie. your mind had been on the boy sitting next to you the whole time.

"you don't need to lie, y/n." your eyes widened at the boy's words. you were done for. taesan leaned forward, tilting his body and head so he could look you in the eyes as you stared intensely at your shoes. he continued.

"i can tell something's on your mind. what're you thinking about?" the boy asked gently, noticing your clenched fists.

"you." you blurted out before you could stop yourself. there was no going back. as the feelings you didn't realize you'd been holding for taesan flooded your mind, you couldn't drown them any longer. hearing a small gasp, you forced yourself to continue

"i know we're just friends, i'm sorry --" you began before taesan's voice sliced through the air, louder and stable than before.

"don't..." your stomach dropped, he definitely hated you know. you almost felt sick, praying he didn't think you were taking advantage of his kindness. he'd offered up this whole arrangement as a friend for your sake and sanity, and you went and fell for him.

"don't apologize for that, ever." taesan finally found the words he was looking for, and you looked up confusedly to see his eyes boring into you. his gaze was heavy, you wanted to shrivel underneath it.

his eyes ran over every part of you he could see, across your eyes and lips and down your neck and along your shoulders. they trailed down your arms that were wrapped in his jacket and brushed over your exposed legs. your tense fists and eyes screwed shut didn't go unnoticed either.

you couldn't bear to keep your eyes open any longer, silently begging him to do or say anything else.

"what does that mean?" you muttered, eyes still shut. taesan's stomach flipped and he couldn't help but smile at the sight of you so nervous, all because of him.

"i've been thinking about you, too." your eyes shot open in surprise, seeing taesan smiling at you warmly. his large hand reached over the console to wrap around your still clenched fist, his fingers working to unravel your hand and intertwine yours with his.

he placed his other hand on your shoulder, turning you to face him completely. you held your breath as his touch creeped up the curve of your shoulder, hand fully cupping the back of your neck. you wordlessly leaned into his touch, tongue coming out to wet your lips for what you knew was coming.

taesan thought you looked beautiful like this; the only thing illuminating the two of you was the glow of the dashboard, the light wrapped around you like a halo. your lips shone in the dim light, glossed over and beckoning to the boy.

your lungs felt they were on fire as you waited for taesan to something, anything.

"taesan..." your shaky voice was no louder than a whisper. the boy finally snapped out of his dazed state, leaning over the console to meet your lips with his.

taesan was as gentle as he could be with you, eyes closed and plush lips pressing against yours softly. the kiss lasted for a moment before he pulled away, opening his eyes slowly. while he was aching to go further with you than just a simple peck, the last thing he wanted to do was overwhelm you, knowing this was your first kiss.

you, on the other hand, had the front of his shirt pinched between your fingers, pulling him back to you within a second. you melted against his lips, eyes fluttering shut as your face grew hotter by the second.

taesan's hand that was holding yours moved to squeeze your thigh. you gasped lightly against his lips and his tongue moved past your lips, exploring your warm mouth.

your head was spinning from the unfamiliar sensations, eyes nearly rolling back as taesan used his hand behind your neck to cup the back of your head and tilt your face. your lips moved together in an unspoken synchrony; taesan could've sworn he saw stars when you bit his lip, groaning into your mouth softly.

the low music from the stereo was now joined by the lewd noises coming from your mouths. the two of you continued making out, your hand now gripping taesan's bicep while his fingers dancing along your shoulders.

you finally pulled away to catch your breath, opening your eyes slowly. a string of spit stretched between your and taesan's lips, lit up by the dashboard lights. taesan felt his stomach tighten as you wiped your mouth on the back of your hand, never breaking eye contact with him.

it wasn't until a group of kids your age walked past your car that the two of you remembered where exactly you were -- a public parking lot.

"we should get out of here." you mumbled as you switched the car's gear into drive. taesan simply nodded, still reeling from what just happened. as you pulled out of the parking lot, he licked his lips, hoping to get another taste of you. or what was left of you, at least,

the ride home was quiet, the only sound being the music from your stereo. the movie theater wasn't too far from your neighborhood anyways; your car pulled into your driveway a mere 5 minutes later.

you moved extra slowly as you switched the car into park and turned off the ignition, hoping taesan would take the opportunity to say something. the boy could read you like a book, practically feeling the anticipation and nervousness radiating from your body.

"what do you want to do now?" unfortunately, taesan did not say anything close to what you were expecting. you coughed, caught by surprise while also stalling so you could think of a response.

"i mean we both like each other, right?" you asked, face reddening within a second. taesan smiled and nodded. you continued.

"are you going to ask me to be your girlfriend?" you inquired teasingly. taesan playfully scoffed.

"why do i have to be the one to ask?" he whined, eliciting a giggle from you.

"i thought you were a gentleman." taesan rolled his eyes at your jab, reaching over to grab your hand and intertwine your fingers with his.

"y/n, will you be my real, not pretend girlfriend?" taesan spoke dramatically, like he was in front of an audience. you laughed even harder, fake swooning as he kissed the back of your hand.

"hmm can i think about it?" you nearly lost it watching the dramatic betrayal on taesan's face. he shoved your shoulder lightly, smiling as he crossed his arms stubbornly.

"i'm kidding, i would love to be your real, not pretend girlfriend." you sealed the deal by leaning forward to press a kiss to the boy's cheek, making a loud smacking sound that made the two of you laugh.

"i can't believe it only took you a week to succumb to me" taesan quipped as the two of you stepped out of the car.

"shut up mr. i've been thinking about you too." you shot back, jabbing the boy with your elbow lightly.

the two of you bantered and held hands in your front yard, the same place where you had fatefully met 12 years ago. and it was taesan's mom who once again beckoned him back, sticking her head out of the front door of the boy's house and calling his name.

"coming!"

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