#enjoy seggsy readers

[nevernonline]

✧.* how to lose the girl; xmh

synopsis: minghao was feeling tired of shallow relationships. his friends, noticing his frustration, challenge him to pursue a girl and then push her away within ten days. intrigued by the idea, he reluctantly accepts the bet as a fun challenge.

part of my ninety minute movies one shot series. ♡︎

paring/s: afab reader x non-idol hao.

genre/s: humor (sort of lmao), low-key fuckboy hao

warning/s: alcohol consumption, some bad jokes, nothing too bad or seggsy

word count: 10.3k

content: all the vibes of how to lose a guy in ten days but nawt. enjoy xo!

Day 1 - The Bet

In the lively heart of the city, Minghao, was out flaunting his charming looks and a playful grin, typically on his much too expensive and lavish work lunches which gave him and the rest of his colleges an excuse to pick up a bunch of beautiful women to take home every night, a lot of them falling hard for him no matter how poorly he left them hanging the morning after. But lately, he noticed how he always found himself drowning in a sea of shallow connections, and it was starting to wear on him.

Sensing his distress, his friends hatched an interesting plan to inject some excitement into his love life: they dared him to make a girl fall for him and then push her away in just ten days! “No way in fucking hell could he pull this off, he’ll get bored by day four.” jeered one friend, gleefully rubbing his hands together. With a mix of reluctance and curiosity bubbling inside him, Minghao accepted, eager to see how fast he could make a girl sprint for the exit.

Across town, y/n was navigating her own challenges. She was as her friends described a fierce, independent powerhouse who was on a mission to conquer the advertising world and prove to her office overrun by male colleagues that she meant business. Relationships? She just viewed them for what they were distractions in her quest for success—something she simply couldn’t afford. With her sights set on her career, she was about to discover just how unpredictable life and love could be when the most unexpected challenges came knocking. 

Day 2 - The Meeting

Minghao first spotted Y/n at a coffee shop, her eyes glued to her laptop as she furiously typed, rather loudly should he add. He decided she would be the perfect target. Something about her tight lipped focused face, her hair perfectly slicked into a ponytail, not a hair out of place, something about her felt more like a challenge than a perfect sweep for his bet. 

He approached her with his trademark smile, confident and carefree. “Is this seat taken?” he asked, gesturing toward the empty chair across from her. y/n looked up, a mix of annoyance and intrigue in her gaze. 

“Actually, yes,I don’t care to do my work around a fuck boy flirting with me, my office has enough of those. Have a good day.” she replied bluntly, not ready to be derailed from her work.

Minghao, undeterred by her obvious dismissal, sat down anyway. “I’m Minghao,” he introduced himself. “And I think you owe me a chance to change your mind.”

She raised an eyebrow, still looking down at her computer, typing a bit less loud now, almost as if she was intrigued and didn’t want him to know but the scowl on her face said she was still skeptical. “Oh, really? And how do you plan to do that?”

With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he leaned in closer. “Let’s just say I have a few tricks up my sleeve,” he replied playfully. “But first, you’ll have to let me take you on a perfect first date.”

Y/n almost chuckled at his audacity, but there was an undeniable spark of intrigue in her gaze. Little did she know, mingling with Minghao was about to shake up her life. 

“Fine. If that will get you to leave me alone while I work, I’ll agree.” 

“I’m not leaving here until I get your contact information,” Minghao laughed. 

Rolling her eyes, Y/n dug through her wallet, searching for a business card. “Here,” she said, finally pulling one out and extending it towards him.

But Minghao just held his hand up in a stop-motion gesture, shaking his head. “No, not a business card. I need to know you’ll actually show up, so let me have your personal phone number instead.”

Y/n stared at him, incredulity mixing with a lingering smile. “Oh, so bold. And what makes you think I will?”

“Because,” he leaned closer, his expression earnest now, “I have a feeling that once you get to know me, you won’t want to miss out. Plus, if I leave with a business card, how will I ever convince you to let me take you on that perfect date?”

Her skepticism flickered for a second under the brightness of his confidence, but she still hesitated. “You really think you can convince me?”

“Absolutely,” he replied, his tone teasing yet sincere. “And if I fail, I promise I’ll leave you alone forever. Deal?”

For a moment, Y/n pondered the spontaneity of his request, weighing the pros and cons. Finally, a grin broke free on her lips as she typed her number into his phone, the anticipation of the unknown sparking excitement within her. “Alright, but don’t say I didn’t warn you,” she said, handing back the phone with a hint of warning in her tone.

Minghao's eyes lit up with genuine delight as he saved her contact. “You won’t regret this,” he promised, his voice softening a touch.

As he returned the phone to her, Y/n couldn’t help but feel a flutter of uncertainty mixed with exhilaration. Perhaps there was something to this spontaneous gamble after all. Little did they know, that simple decision would pave the way for an unforgettable connection and adventures neither had anticipated.

Day 3 - The Chase

Over the days that followed, Minghao played his part, showering her with attention that ranged from over-the-top romantic gestures to quirky surprises. He brought her favorite pastries to the office, sent her memes that made her laugh, and even bombarded her with cheesy pick-up lines. Each time, Y/n found herself torn between annoyance and amusement.

At first, she had tried to brush him off, responding to his texts with one-word replies or simply ignoring his more audacious attempts to brighten her day. However, Minghao persisted, his cheerful determination almost unwavering. One afternoon, she returned from a long meeting to find her desk decorated with colorful sticky notes adorned with doodles and handwritten compliments. “You’re the best part of my day,” one note claimed, and despite her initial irritation, a small smile tugged at her lips.

Minghao was relentless, his charm starting to break down her walls. She had to admit there was something about him—he was refreshingly carefree, unlike the uptight guys she usually dated. While others might have tried to impress her with their accomplishments or flashy gifts, Minghao found ways to make her laugh, embracing a lightheartedness that was both refreshing and frightening. But Y/n was determined to keep him at arm's length; she had a career to focus on.

Still, the more time they spent chatting, the more she found herself looking forward to his texts. Each meme and quirky voice note felt less like an intrusion and more like a highlight of her day. One evening, after a particularly grueling week, she found herself daydreaming about a potential picnic under the stars, something Minghao had suggested a few days prior.

“No, no,” she chastised herself, shaking her head as she turned her attention to her laptop. “Stay focused.” 

Yet, every time she tried to immerse herself in her work, her mind would inevitably wander back to him. The way he laughed, the warmth in his gaze, even the way he playfully challenged her every now and then—there was an undeniable pull that made it hard to ignore him.

On a particularly busy Friday, while sipping her coffee and reviewing a presentation, she felt her phone vibrate on the desk. A message appeared: “Hey, just thought you might want to know that your favorite pastry is waiting at the corner café. No obligations. Just a little pick-me-up to start your weekend. 😊”

Y/n's heart softened, a flutter of appreciation sweeping through her. “Okay, this is getting ridiculous,” she muttered to herself, trying to suppress the smile creeping onto her face. Maybe she could allow herself a moment of distraction.

She quickly glanced at the time and the empty office around her, nobody here really worked on the weekends aside from herself so she decided to take a break just this once. With a random jolt of excitement, she stood up, brushed aside her work-related thoughts, and headed to the café. She spotted him sitting comfortably at a small table, a bright smile illuminating his face. Before she could even say a word, he raised a pastry in greeting, “I didn’t know if you liked it warm or cold, so I got one of each, just to be safe!”

Her laughter bubbled out despite herself. “You really didn’t have to do this.”

“But I did, you mentioned to me the other day you never have fun on the weekends anymore because you're busy working, ” Minghao countered, setting the pastries down and leaning back in his chair. “Life's too short not to indulge in the little things. Besides, you're worth it.”

His words stirred something in her, something she had kept buried under layers of practicality. A mix of anxiety and excitement danced in her chest as they shared bits of pastry and stories, laughter weaving between them effortlessly. And for the first time in what felt like ages, Y/n considered that perhaps life wasn’t just about hard work and career goals—it could also be about spontaneous moments and unexpected connections.

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting warm hues of orange and pink across the café, Y/n let herself enjoy the moment, her defenses slowly crumbling, piece by piece. “Want to go for a drink? Unless you have plans or something?” 

“You’re asking me out? Wow, Y/n, I’m pleasantly surprised. I’d actually enjoy that. Big boss lady is paying, right?” Minghao pressed, a cheeky grin spreading across his face.

Y/n rolled her eyes, but a laugh escaped her lips. “Very funny. I should have known you’d want to make this about money,” she teased, her heart racing slightly at the thought of stepping into the realm of casual dating.

“I’m kidding. But you know I’d never let you cover the whole tab, right?” he replied, his voice playful yet sincere. “How about we split it? One thing I’ve learned is that relationships, friendships or otherwise, are all about balance.” 

“That sounds fair but please let me get it actually I feel a little bad about you always paying anyway. Plus, I asked you. That's how it works right?,” she agreed, her spirit lifted by his lightheartedness. “Where do you want to go?” 

“I know this cozy little bar just around the corner. They have some cool drinks and the vibes are good,” he suggested, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “Plus, I’ve heard they serve a mean nacho platter.”

“Nachos and drinks sound perfect. Wow- I hate that I actually got excited by a fucking macho platter, but okay.” she replied, feeling a surge of excitement and momentary embarrassment over some fucking chips with cheese. She was surprised at how nervous yet invigorated she felt. 

As they walked to the bar, the warm evening air enveloped them like a casual embrace. With every step beside him, Y/n felt the weight of her daily grind lift. “So, what’s your go-to cocktail?” she asked, surprisingly eager to keep the chatter flowing.

“I’d say I’m a classic and simple beer or wine dude, but I’m always game for something a bit off the beaten path. You?” 

“Dirty martini,” she answered, a proud smile crossing her face. “Simple but sophisticated.” 

“Ah, the big boss lady indeed. But the real question is gin or vodka?” He winked, and for a moment, she felt herself blush, something she hadn’t experienced in ages. 

“Vodka, but shut you fucking mouth and don’t tell any martini enthusiasts. Extra dry, extra dirty.” 

“Not extra wet and extra dirty?” 

Y/n nearly choked on her own spit, watching his face crinkle into a big smile before they erupted into laughter. 

They snagged a small table tucked away in a corner, perfect for engaging in their own little world. 

After placing their orders, conversations flowed as smoothly as the drinks. Minghao effortlessly switched between sharing amusing anecdotes about his life and asking Y/n about hers, genuinely interested in her career aspirations and what fueled her passions. With every laugh they exchanged and each shared story, Y/n found herself relaxing more, drawn into his effortless charm. 

“Alright, I need the truth,” Minghao said, leaning in as if about to share a juicy secret. “What’s your biggest guilty pleasure?” 

Y/n took a moment, contemplating her answer before finally admitting, “Reality TV. It’s a little bit shameful, I know, but there’s something about the drama that I can’t resist.” 

Minghao laughed heartily, the sound filling her with warmth. “No shame in that. I actually can’t lie and say I don’t enjoy watching Love Island. I’m more of a cooking show fan, to be honest. Nothing quite like watching people fail spectacularly while I sit there eating takeout as if I can cook this shit myself.”

“Okay, we’re definitely going to have a night where I introduce you to some of the best reality stars of all time, where you will sit and not fucking complain. And since I can cook, I will go hell's kitchen style on the stove. ” she declared, a playful challenge glimmering in her eyes. 

“Hey, look I’m game, but only if you let me judge your cooking like I’m the god himself Ramsay.” he exclaimed, his excitement unmistakable. “Just let me know when. I’ll bring the snacks and the commentary.”

As the evening progressed, they shared stories about childhood memories, dreams, and the quirks that made them who they were. With each revelation, Y/n felt a deeper connection forming, an understanding that perhaps taking a little time away from work wouldn’t derail her ambitions after all. 

Maybe it was time to let a little chaos in, she thought, as their conversation twisted and turned down unexpected paths, igniting sparks of joy she hadn’t anticipated, making her question everything she thought she knew about herself and about love.

Minghao got the vibe that his little plan for making Y/n fall for him could potentially end up with him feeling the same way, but not yet. He pushed that feeling deep down inside his gut, almost like he could hide it from everyone, including himself. His heart raced with excitement, but mingled with a twinge of anxiety. He didn’t want to rush things or scare her off with his burgeoning feelings. Just because she was opening up didn’t mean she was ready for more, and he wanted to tread carefully even if it was just to fuck around for a bet with his friends. 

“So, Y/n, since you’re not working tomorrow, want to come hang out at my place for a bit? Have a nightcap? Maybe watch a movie or something?” Minghao questioned, his voice casual, but the flicker of anticipation in his eyes betrayed him.

Y/n hesitated for a moment, the prospect of going to his place stirring a mix of excitement and nerves within her. She knew this was a step beyond their playful banter, a leap into a territory where she would need to confront what she was feeling. But the words “why not?” danced on the tip of her tongue. 

“Sure, I’d love that,” she replied, a hint of eagerness surprising even herself. “But fair warning, if we’re watching a movie, it has to be a good one. Nothing corny please.”

“Oh come on, you seem like you’d love a good rom-com, I can tell.” Minghao laughed, and she found herself laughing along, the playful banter feeling natural and comforting.

As they bickered back and forth about their movie preferences, Y/n felt a flutter of excitement at the thought of spending more time with him. Maybe this was the chaos she needed in her life—this lighthearted connection that sparked something new and exhilarating.

“I know just the film to break your resistance,” Minghao declared, raising an eyebrow mischievously. “Prepare yourself for a classic, then. I think you’ll love it, it’s one of my favorites.” 

“Alright, I’ll take your word for it. But if it’s as terrible as I imagine, you owe me.” Y/n countered playfully, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. 

“Deal.” he shot back with a cheeky grin, and the two clinked their glasses together in agreement, the camaraderie between them solidifying.

As they finished their drinks and shared a few more laughs, Y/n couldn’t shake off the feeling that this was just the beginning—like an entrance into a world she had pushed away for too long, forever maybe.. And Minghao, with his undeniable charm and knack for fun, was animating a side of her she had almost forgotten existed.

After wrapping up the evening at the bar, they stepped back into the cool night air. The streets were softly illuminated, the stars twinkling overhead, creating an atmosphere that was very special. As they walked side by side toward Minghao's apartment, the distance felt comfortable, but somehow charged with an undercurrent of anticipation.

“Y/n,” Minghao said, breaking the gentle silence, “I know we’ve only just started hanging out, but I just want to make sure you feel okay about this. I mean, about coming over.” He glanced at her, his expression earnest. “No pressure at all—I just genuinely enjoy your company.I’m not trying to be a player or whatever you assumed I was when we first met.”

His sincerity made her heart flutter. “I’m glad you said that, but it was fuck boy and you maybe have proved yourself beyond that title. I enjoy this too, and I think it’ll be fun to hang out more and get to know you. Just…uh, promise you wont judge me too harshly if I end up hogging the blanket during the movie or talking with popcorn in my mouth or something.” 

“Fair warning accepted,” he replied, a teasing gleam in his eye. “I might have to initiate a blanket-sharing strategy, I think we can make it work.” 

They both laughed, the playful energy crackling between them as they approached his building. Maybe she could allow herself to embrace this unexpected chaos, to explore a connection without overthinking it for once. And who knows? Perhaps Minghao wouldn’t just be a passing ship but a delightful step into a new chapter of her life. 

As they stepped into his cozy apartment, Y/n tucked that thought away for later, intent on simply enjoying the moment—and the thrill of where it might lead them.

Minghao took her coat off her shoulders, hanging it on the small black hooks by his front door. Sliding his own off gently placing them side by side. Instructing her where to place her shoes and bag on the marble entry table donning photos of his friends and family. 

“Your apartment is really cute, I can tell you like living here. It has a warm feel to it.” 

“Yeah, I do,” Minghao smiled taking in a whiff of his tobacco scented room spray, and grabbing y/n’s hand to lead her into his living room, taking a brief stop at his bar cart and grabbing a bottle of wine, while handing her two glasses to carry in her empty hand. 

The aroma of the wine filled the space as he poured their glasses, the deep crimson liquid swirling beautifully.

Minghao grinned, taking a sip of his own before handing one of the glasses over to her. Their fingers brushed for a moment, sending a spark of electricity that made her smile shyly. “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll grab the remote.”

Y/n settled onto the couch, sinking into the overly plush cushions. She took a moment to look around, noting the way the soft lighting cast a warm glow over the walls adorned with art—pieces that seemed to reflect Minghao’s adventurous spirit, each one telling a story.

When he returned, remote in hand, he plopped down beside her, his warmth radiating through her as he casually leaned back, scrolling through his streaming options. “Alright, let’s see what we have here. Brace yourself for my fucking unmatched taste in cinema,” he teased, glancing at her with a twinkle in his eye.

“Give me all that you got, I’m ready,” she replied with playful confidence, leaning into the moment.

With a few flicks of the remote, they settled on a classic action-comedy. The opening credits rolled as they adjusted their seats, finding a naturally comfortable closeness. The shared space between them began to feel charged with anticipation. 

As the film began, they laughed together at the antics on screen, occasionally glancing at each other, enjoying the laughter as a bridge between their hearts. Every shared chuckle seemed to layer on the connection that was forming, an unspoken understanding lacing the air around them.

“Minghao, I, uh have got to admit, this isn’t what I expected tonight,” Y/n said during a quiet moment, her eyes sparkling. “But I’m really glad it worked out and that I met you.”

“Yeah? Really? Me too,” he replied, his gaze softening as he turned to her. “I’ve wanted to hang out like this for a while. I wasn’t sure if you’d feel the same, but I’m glad we did. I’m glad I forced you to give me your phone number that day.” 

Y/n felt a warmth spread through her chest at his honesty. She had been guarded for so long, and here was Minghao, effortlessly peeling away at her layers with every shared moment.

As the movie progressed, he reached for the popcorn bowl perched on the coffee table, offering it to her. Their fingers brushed again, igniting an electric thrill that danced between them. The film faded into the background as Y/n found herself getting lost in the depths of his gaze.

“Okay, I’ll admit,” she began, leaning in slightly, “your blanket-sharing strategy may be your ultimate plan to seduce me. I see you.”

Minghao chuckled, taking her playful jab in stride. “Guilty as charged. What can I say? Who could resist a cozy blanket and beautiful company?” He pulled the soft throw from behind the couch, draping it over their laps.

As he settled back beside her, their shoulders nudged together under the blanket, his hand wrapped around her thigh and Y/n felt her heart race. There was an undeniable chemistry in the air, palpable like the fragrance of the wine swirling around them. 

Without thinking too much about it, she rested her head on his shoulder, throwing her hair back to reveal her neck—not as a move, just a way to make herself more comfortable. As she leaned in, she caught the subtle scent of Minghao’s cologne, warm and inviting, and felt the gentle rise and fall of his shoulder beneath her cheek. It was a small gesture, yet it felt so natural, almost like an instinctive draw to his warmth.

Minghao looked down at her with a side eye, surprised at how effortlessly they had crossed this invisible line. He couldn’t help but notice how soft her skin looked under the low light and the way her eyes widened with joy as she laughed at the antics on the screen. Her laughter was contagious, reverberating through him and making his heart race a little faster, a little louder in the calm of the room.

Suddenly, Minghao felt an unfamiliar pang of anxiety creep into his chest. The bet had seemed innocent—a way to explore the chemistry simmering between them—but now it felt like a threaded line tugging at him in different directions. Maybe the bet was a bad idea after all, because now he felt himself falling for someone without knowing what could come next, just like that. It was as if he had opened a door to an inevitable chaos while still trying to remain in control.

Yet every time she shifted slightly against him, every laugh that slipped from her lips, deepened the connection he felt. He had initially thought he’d be the one charming her, the one doing the chasing, but here they were, and Y/n’s mere presence had knocked him off his feet. It startled him, this flicker of vulnerability—that maybe he wasn’t just playing a game; he was investing real emotions.

“You okay?” Y/n murmured, tilting her head up to meet his gaze, her brow slightly furrowed as she noticed the contemplative look on his face.

He quickly masked his thoughts with an easygoing smile. “Yeah, just caught up in the movie,” he replied, trying to divert her attention. “The action scenes are really intense, right?”

Though she seemed to accept his diversion with a playful nod, he could see the hint of curiosity lingering in her eyes, a flash that told him she sensed something in the air between them. A moment of silence stretched between them like a tightly pulled string, neither of them willing to break it. Instead, they allowed the movie to fill the space, as he leaned down and planted a soft kiss against her lips. Something subtle and quick that was just perfect for the moment and wouldn’t derail the nice night they were sharing, he wasn’t ready for that yet. 

As the film progressed, Y/n shifted again, curling her body towards him slightly as a particularly funny scene played out, her laughter bubbling forth. It was that unfiltered joy he found intoxicating—a refreshing reminder that life could be this light, this fun, and maybe even a little crazy.

Day 4 - The Competition

During a group outing with friends, Minghao decided to reveal the second phase of his plan: he started being annoyingly competitive. “Let’s have a game night.” he declared, his voice ringing with enthusiasm as he rallied everyone around him. "I challenge you all to a series of ridiculous contests, from karaoke battles to board games. Losers buy the drinks." There was a mixture of excitement and groans from the group, but Minghao was unfazed. He thrived in this atmosphere, eager to galvanize Y/n into joining him in the chaos.

Y/n, who he knew hated losing, found herself reluctantly swept up in the energy of the night. A glimmer of excitement sparked in her eyes, even as she partnered with Minghao, who pretended to be completely uninterested in the competition. She could see the mischievous glint behind his facade, his playfulness luring her in.

As they tackled their first karaoke challenge, Minghao grabbed the microphone. He belted out an off-key rendition of her favorite song, doing little to hide his comedic flair. “You're fucking terrible at this.” Y/n teased him, trying to contain the laughter that bubbled up at the sight of his unfiltered enthusiasm.

“Maybe I’m just trying to get you to help me improve,” Minghao shot back, his smile never wavering. He pointed the microphone at her cheekily, inviting her to join in. The playful energy between them was palpable, the laughter of their friends helped her gain confidence.

Y/n rolled her eyes but couldn’t quell the smile creeping onto her lips. “You know I fucking suck at singing, right?” she joked, hopping up on stage beside him. In a moment of spontaneity, she grabbed the microphone and took the lead, pouring her heart into the next part of the song, using her off-key notes as a comedic backdrop. Her confidence radiated, and soon the others joined in, clapping and singing along.

The laughter and energy of the room felt electric, and for a moment, the competition melted away, leaving only joy. The night continued with a series of board games and ridiculous challenges, each one causing Minghao to lean in closer to Y/n as they plotted ways to win. 

 “What’s your game plan?” he whispered to her, though the intensity of his smile hinted he was thoroughly enjoying the game itself more than he let on. The way his eyes sparkled made her heart race a little, stirring a thrill she hadn’t anticipated and in that moment all she wanted to do was wipe the smirk off his face with her lips.

“Honestly? I think our only plan is to distract the other teams with our charm,” Y/n replied, gesturing theatrically. “We’re clearly the most entertaining, so I kind of like it. It's a sweep.”

Minghao laughed, and the sound resonated in her chest. “Perfect strategy.” He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against hers as they whispered strategies into the fray of friendly competition raging around them.

As the night wore on, the playful banter and friendly sabotage culminated in a final showdown—an impromptu trivia contest that had everyone shouting questions at one another. “This one’s a gimme. Come on.” Minghao said, grinning ear to ear as he looked at Y/n. “I’ll let you take this one.”

She raised an eyebrow, half-surprised by his sudden willingness to let her answer. “Uh-huh, so this is your secret strategy—make me do all the work?” she said, nudging him playfully.

“Only the smart person's work,” Minghao shot back, laughter dancing in his voice as he leaned into her side. “And besides, I can’t afford another karaoke performance like that—I’m salvaging my reputation here.”

She smirked, appreciating the electric vibe still lingering in the air. “Fine, but you better promise to make up for it after this.”

Their competitive banter continued as the final questions rolled in. Y/n felt surprisingly exhilarated, and she realized that within the madness of the game night—amidst the silly antics and the thrill of competition—something deeper was taking root in her heart. Minghao, in all his competitive glory, was not just a friend; he was somebody who brought out a side in her she hadn’t even known existed.

Day 5 - The Realization

As time progressed, y/n found herself letting her guard down, enjoying Minghao’s company more than she intended. They shared late-night conversations, honest stories of their pasts, and hilarious anecdotes that made her laugh until she cried. But just as quickly as those feelings bloomed, fear crept in. Could she afford to get attached?

Both of them shied away from being honest with their feelings as a matter of protection from their pain in the past. 

Minghao especially realized how complicated the situation was. Could he really move forward with her without telling her the truth of why he asked her out in the first place? However, if he tells her the truth, he could lose her altogether. Each day that he hesitated felt like a weight pressing down on his chest, an unspoken tension hanging between them like the heavy clouds before a storm.

He recalled the tender moments they shared—the laughter, the stolen glances, the way her smile lit him up even when he felt like the weight of the world was on him. But lurking beneath those cherished memories was a foundation built on secrets and half-truths. He grappled with the fear that if he revealed the underlying reason for his affection, she might see him as just another guy in her life trying to throw her off her path, rather than someone who genuinely cared.

The truth was like a double-edged sword; it could liberate him or shatter the fragile bond they had formed. In those quiet moments, he could feel his heart wrestling with his mind—one part needing authenticity, while another begged for the safety of keeping his own secret. Was there a path that could lead them both to what they wanted rather than hurting them both?

He knew that eventually, he would have to choose a direction, but every path was filled with uncertainty. Perhaps, for now, he would focus on the little things—the warmth of her hand in his, the gentle way they navigated tough conversations. Yet, deep inside, he wondered how long they could remain strangers to their own truths. The clock was ticking, and each moment felt like an opportunity slipping away. 

Day 6 - The Plan Backfires

In an effort to push Y/n away to avoid hurting her, Minghao started purposely sending mixed signals. He ignored her texts, acted uninterested in their plans, and even pretended to be busy whenever she attempted to schedule time together. But to his surprise, Y/n didn’t waver. She matched his energy with playful banter and unwavering support, showing up outside his office with his favorite coffee just when he needed it—the same way he had done for her.

Each time she appeared, a smile lighting up her face, it reminded him of how deeply she understood him, and he knew his plan was backfiring. She took his teasing in stride, firing back with witty comebacks that reminded him of the vibrant connection they shared. He felt the walls he was trying to build between them start to crumble, intrigued and frustrated by the strength of her positive attitude. 

Why was he pushing her away when all she seemed to want was him? He could see the concern behind her laughter, the way her brow furrowed slightly when she caught him lost in thought, and it tore at his heart. Was this really the right way to protect her, or was he simply running from something that could be good for both of them?

On one particularly tough day, as he stared out the window, he caught a glimpse of her leaning against the wall, coffee in hand, waiting for him to take a moment to breathe. The sunlight caught her hair, giving her a glow that made her look like an angel in real life, and his chest tightened. She wasn't the kind of person to give up easily, and maybe that’s something he was drawn to. 

Instead of the irritation he anticipated feeling, Minghao began to appreciate her staying power. In that moment, he felt both grateful and terrified—grateful that she cared enough to stick around, and terrified that the longer he held back, the more he risked losing a part of himself he had forgotten even existed.

With each passing day, the facade he’d constructed started to feel less like protection and more like a prison. He saw how much she believed in him, not just as a friend, but as someone capable of finding happiness again. But as the walls crumbled beneath her unwavering kindness, he grappled with the realization that if he didn’t confront the truth soon, he might not just push her away, he might just lose her. Minghao knew he would have to decide soon to continue the charade or to find the courage to let her in. 

Day 7 - The Confession

One night, while they were taking a walk, the air was heavy with tension, and Minghao couldn’t take it anymore. “Why do you keep coming back? I’m clearly trying to push you away,” he blurted out, the words spilling out in a rush, tinged with frustration and desperation.

Y/n stopped, turning to face him, her expression suddenly serious for once. “Because, Minghao, I see something in you. I didn’t set out to fall for you, but I can’t help it. You starting to pull away is confusing me. What changed overnight that you can barely even look at me anymore?” Her tone was both challenging and vulnerable, a blend that cut through the discomfort hanging between them.

“It’s because—” Minghao swallowed hard, his heart racing as he looked into her eyes, feeling the weight of the truth pressing against his chest. He focused on her furrowed expression, “This was a bet, and I—”

“A bet?” Y/n’s voice rose, sharp almost like a knife diving into his chest. The surprised look on her face shifted rapidly from confusion to hurt, and it churned something deep within him. He was struck again by the disbelief in her eyes.

The silence between them was thick and suffocating. Minghao took a breath, searching for the right words, but they were lost on him. “I didn’t mean for it to happen this way,” he pressed on, his voice softer now. “We started out as a joke—something to distract myself. It was my friend's idea that I foolishly agreed to. And then… then you became real to me.” He paused, trying to convey the whirlwind of emotions swirling within him.

Y/n crossed her arms, visibly hurt, but her gaze didn't waver. “You mean to tell me that all this time, all those moments we had—that they were just part of some fucking game with your buddies?” Her voice trembled slightly.

“No. It may have started that way, but it turned into something much deeper,” he pleaded, desperate to convey his truth. “I didn’t plan to fall for you. I didn’t plan on feeling this way at all. But once I did, I didn’t know how to handle it. I thought pushing you away would protect you from the truth.”

Y/n shook her head, her expression a blend of frustration and heartbreak. “You think pushing me away protects me? Minghao, it only pushes me into uncertainty. If you had just told me from the start, I could have chosen to stay or walk away. But now, you’ve  just made everything ten times fucking worse.” 

Feeling increasingly guilty he stepped closer, trying to bridge the distance he had created. “I’m so sorry, Y/n. I should have been honest with you. I never wanted to hurt you. The fear of losing you, it…” he trailed off, unsure how to articulate his feelings.

Y/n took a deep breath, her demeanor softening just a fraction. “You need to make a choice, Minghao. Either let me in, all the way, or please let me go. I.. uh, can’t handle this right now. I’ll try to give you a call in a few days or maybe see you around.”

The weight of her words settled heavily in the air, and Minghao realized that it was time to confront not only the truth of their beginning but also the reality of what was blossoming between them. He had been running from the idea of vulnerability for so long, but now faced with Y/n’s determination, he found just enough strength within himself to start breaking down the walls he had built. As he watched her walk away from him not turning back around like he wished she would have, for once, Minghao felt the stirrings of hope amidst his fear.

Day 8 - A Challenge

With Minghao’s words hanging in the air, Y/n found herself re-evaluating her feelings. She had initially wanted to leave him there on the street as a part of her past, but the connection they shared was stronger than she had anticipated. Maybe, just maybe, she didn’t want it to end after all, but she wasn’t willing to let him get away with tricking her so easily.

She decided on her own plan—something to throw him off his game truly in her own style just to get back at him, but only all in good fun. It was time to show Minghao that she wasn’t someone to be underestimated.

Y/n had gotten in contact with one of Minghao's friends, a guy named Jisoo whom she had met during their karaoke competition. After a quick chat filled with enthusiasm and laughter, she proposed the idea of entering a “Battle of the Bands”-style karaoke show hosted by her workplace for charity. Jisoo was immediately on board and even rallied a few more of their friends to join in. But Y/n made one thing clear: they absolutely couldn’t let Minghao in on the secret. This was her chance to catch him off guard.

In the following weeks, his friends practiced relentlessly. Y/n wasn't just aiming to win at work; she wanted to create an unforgettable evening, one that would leave Minghao in pure shock. They practiced their songs, and even designed matching outfits for the event—a whimsically themed performance that would be impossible to forget.

Finally, the night of the charity show arrived. The venue was filled with colorful lights and the buzz of excitement as coworkers and friends gathered, taking their seats for what promised to be a lively night. Y/n donned a not necessarily work appropriate dress that reflected the playful spirit of her prank and maybe to catch someone's eyes.  She could already see Minghao mingling with some of his friends, his laughter filling the air, and she felt a mixture of nerves and anticipation flutter in her stomach.

As the show kicked off, the energy in the room was contagious. The first few acts were entertaining, but Y/n could barely focus. She was waiting for her moment to take the stage and introduce Minghao and the others who were waiting to humiliate their friend gathered backstage, the excitement was palpable. They could hear Minghao in the crowd, cheering loudly for the groups, and Y/n smiled to herself, knowing what was coming next.

When it was their turn to perform, Y/n’s heart raced. She walked onto the stage, focusing on the bright lights and the sea of faces staring back at her. She could spot Minghao in the crowd before she introduced him, watching his slightly puzzled but amused look on his face as he recognized members of his circle.

“How’s everyone doing tonight?” Y/n shouted into the microphone, and the crowd erupted in cheers, clinking their glasses and waving them in the air as the spotlight warmed her skin. 

“I have a special surprise for you all this evening!” The anticipation in the room built up in waves as she paused for effect. “You won’t believe what I’ve been up to. If you haven’t already heard, I recently met someone!” 

The crowd roared in excitement, whoops and claps echoing around the venue. 

“Shocking, right? You might have seen him around the office. Can we get a spotlight on him?” 

The beam of light swept through the crowd until it landed on Minghao, who looked around, momentarily startled. 

“Everyone, meet Minghao!” Y/n continued, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “We actually met at the coffee shop below the office. I was drowning in my mid-week project when he approached my table and asked me out on a date. I’ll admit, I was pretty hesitant at first. But he worked his charm on me.” 

She smiled warmly, letting reminiscence wash over her. “We ended up going out a few times after that, but just a few nights ago, he let me in on a little secret—it was all a bet set up by these guys right here!” 

Y/n dramatically pointed behind her at a group of men clad in glittery outfits, their faces a mix of embarrassment and amusement as they realized they’d been called out. Laughter erupted once again, and Minghao could only shake his head, a smirk on his lips as the crowd carried on, fully entertained by the unfolding story.

The laughter from the crowd soared, and Y/n could see Minghao’s face shifting from amusement to slight embarrassment when a man behind him yelled up to the stage. “A bet? Seriously?” he called out.

“Yes. You heard that right.” Y/n responded, leaning into the microphone as she theatrically rolled her eyes, embracing the absurdity of it all. “Turns out, my romantic escapades were all part of some grand scheme these guys made up.” 

The men behind her chuckled sheepishly, with one of them, a tall guy with a dazzling smile, shouting playfully, “In our defense, we thought it was a great idea. Including Minghao.”

“Oh, it definitely was,” Y/n replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Thanks for the great dates,you guys. I had no idea I was part of a reality show, I watch them enough you’d think I’d catch on.” She paused for comedic effect, letting the laughter settle before leaning closer to the audience, her tone more serious. “You know, honestly, Minghao surprised me in ways I never expected.”

She glanced over at Minghao, whose cheeks were slightly flushed under the spotlight but wore a sincere smile. “I was a bit hesitant at first, sure. But then we really connected. And who would have guessed that the guy who interrupted my focused day with a charming smile would become someone so special?”

Cheers erupted from the crowd again, and Y/n took a deep breath, enticing them with what was coming next. 

“And, since we’re being honest here,” she continued, teasingly leaning into her role as the narrator of this unfolding tale, “I feel like we need to make Minghao work just a little for his redemption. No?” The audience murmured in excitement.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I’ve arranged a little surprise for him tonight,” Y/n said, gesturing to the side of the stage. “Minghao, my friend, you've got just one more challenge ahead of you.”

Out of nowhere, a karaoke microphone was handed to Minghao from his left side and the crowd erupted into cheers and laughter again. Minghao held it awkwardly, glancing at Y/n with a mix of uncertainty and delight. 

“What am I supposed to do with this?” he asked, genuinely confused but slightly intrigued. 

“You’re going to sing! Duh. Don’t be dumb,” Y/n declared, a mischievous smile dancing on her lips. “The audience deserves to see what they’re in for. Plus, it’s only fair after that little trick you pulled. You’re going to serenade us all.” 

Minghao let out a laugh, his initial shock transforming into acceptance. The crowd erupted once again, chanting, “Minghao! Minghao!” 

Feeling the energy in the room, Minghao stepped forward, climbing up the stairs with a new light in his eyes. “Alright then, I guess I have no choice but to give the audience what they want!” He took a deep breath and gazed at Y/n one last time before launching into a fun, upbeat song that brought everyone to their feet.

As he sang, Y/n couldn’t help but feel a rush of  affection. Despite the insane circumstances that brought them together, there was something genuine unfolding between them, amplified by the shared laughter and excitement of the evening. 

With each note, Minghao seemed to shed any lingering nerves, pouring his heart out into the music. The audience was enthralled, dancing and singing along, swept up in the joy of the moment. Y/n found herself cheering louder than anyone else, her laughter mingling with his infectious energy.

And maybe, just maybe, she thought as she watched him shine on stage, this night was the perfect reminder that sometimes the best stories come from the unexpected. It wasn’t just about the twists and turns of their initial meeting; it was about the connections forged when they embraced things together. As Minghao finished with a flourish, the crowd erupted into applause, and Y/n couldn't help but wonder how many more surprises awaited them on this journey.

Day 9 - A Change of Heart

Determined to make a last-ditch effort to win her back, Minghao doubled down on his resolve. He sent her a series of texts brimming with encouragement, recounting the fun they’d had the night before. “I never imagined I’d be up on stage like that, but it was totally worth it,” he wrote, his fingers flying across the screen. “You have this incredible way of bringing out the best and most ridiculous in people. I genuinely had a good time, especially seeing those fuckers in glitter pants.” 

He poured his heart into his messages, sharing how her laughter had ignited a spark within him, and how getting to know her was quickly becoming the highlight of his life. “You made me feel brave, even while I was totally making a fool of myself,” he typed with a grin, imagining her laughter echoing in his ears. “And honestly, I wouldn’t change a thing about it. You’re amazing, Y/n.”

As the hours passed without a response, doubts started to creep into his mind. Had he gone too far with the whole bet thing? Would she take his lighthearted texts as desperation? But he couldn’t shake the feeling of knowing there was something real between them.. So, he gathered his courage and decided to call. 

When Y/n picked up the phone, her voice sounded bright but cautious. “Hey, Minghao. What’s up?”

“Y/n, Hi I don’t know if you saw my texts, you’re probably busy, but I just wanted to check in after last night,” he replied, his heart racing. “I hope you’re still not too mad at me for the bet thing. I promise I didn’t mean for it to be a setup. I actually really enjoyed being with you."

There was a momentary silence, and he held his breath, waiting for her response. “I’m not mad,” she finally said, her tone softening. “I thought it was an interesting twist, honestly. You had me laughing for hours after I got over it a little bit and after talking to your friends. But I just… didn’t want to feel like I was part of some game.”

“I totally understand,” he said quickly, wanting to assure her. “I’m really sorry for how it started. But I want you to know that my feelings for you are genuine. I liked who I was with you last night and every night really , and I want to get to know you better—like, for real, not as a bet.” 

Y/n paused again, and he could almost hear her contemplating his words. “You mean that?” 

“Absolutely,” Minghao responded, feeling more confident. “I know we started under unusual circumstances, but every moment I’ve spent with you has felt real. You bring out a side of me I didn’t really know I had, and I really love who I am when I’m with you. So, what do you say? Can we start over?” 

He could hear her take a deep breath from the other end, and his heart raced in anticipation. “Okay, let’s do that,” she finally said, her voice brightening. “But let’s be clear the only bets this time will be on actual games, not people's feelings”

Minghao laughed, relief washing over him. “Deal. Just me trying to impress you from now on.” 

“You already have, that was your promise from the start and you followed through.”

As they chatted and made plans for their next outing—a casual coffee date, just like they first met no strings attached—Minghao felt a renewed sense of hope. He was determined to show her that he was sincere, that the bet was just a silly beginning to what he hoped would be a beautiful journey together.

After they hung up, Minghao couldn’t help but smile to himself. It wasn’t just about winning her back; it was about starting anew, embracing the possibility of a real thing. And as excitement bubbled in his chest, he began to plan how he could make their next date unforgettable. After all, if Y/n could turn a wild bet into a night filled with laughter, he was ready to dive in and see where this newfound adventure would take them both.

Day 10 - The Second First Date.

As the days crept closer to their date, Minghao found himself overrun with excitement and nerves. He wanted everything to be perfect. Standing in front of his closet, he debated over his wardrobe, tossing shirts onto the bed haphazardly. He could feel the pressure mounting the stakes felt higher this time—not just because he was going to see Y/n again, but because he wanted her to see him as more than just that guy than a guy who bet on her feelings.

Eventually, he settled on a casual but stylish outfit, one that he felt confident in. Being genuine was the goal, after all, and he didn’t want to put on a facade. Just before he headed out the door, he glanced in the mirror, giving himself a final pep talk. “You’ve got this. Just be yourself.”

At the coffee shop, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, mingling with the chatter of customers. Minghao arrived early, pacing a bit with anticipation. He chose the same cozy corner table her first noticed her at, where they’d have some privacy but still be part of the lively atmosphere. 

When Y/n walked in, his heart skipped a beat. She looked effortlessly beautiful, her hair cascading over her shoulders and a warm smile lighting up her face. She spotted him, her eyes sparkling with familiarity, and his nervousness began to fade away as she approached.

“Hi, nice to meet you, you’re Minghao right?” she greeted, her voice filled with warmth.

“Hey, yeah. I’m glad you made it,” Minghao replied, standing to greet her. They exchanged a brief hug, and it felt surprisingly comfortable.

As they settled into their seats with steaming cups of coffee in hand, the conversation flowed naturally, as if they’d never left off. They chatted about everything their favorite shows, upcoming plans, and the ridiculous things they’d seen online lately. Laughter punctuated their discussion, the kind that made the world around them feel distant.

At one point, Y/n playfully leaned back in her chair, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “So, tell me—what’s your strategy for impressing me today? More dance moves? Karaoke?”

Minghao laughed, feeling lighter than he had in days. “Let’s save the dancing for another time. I’m still trying to recover from the last performance,” he said with a smirk. “But I promise I have a few tricks up my sleeve—nothing too embarrassing.”

“Just promise me no more betting, I’m out of chips for now.” she said, stern but unable to hide her smile.

“Cross my heart,” he promised dramatically, placing a hand over his chest. “From here on out, it’s just me and you having honest and genuine fun.”

Their coffees had transformed into connection, a beautiful blend of camaraderie and flirtation. As they moved towards dessert, Minghao felt a spark growing between them. 

With a playful glint in his eye, he decided to take a leap. “So, if we’re doing this—like, seeing where it goes, how about I take you on a mini-adventure next time? Something a little less…traditional?” 

Y/n raised an eyebrow, “And what exactly does that entail? You are not talking about hiking, or something like that right? I would kill you.” 

“A  little scavenger hunt around the city?” he suggested, warming to the idea. “We could visit all the spots we love, and maybe even some new places. Get ice cream, take pictures, and just enjoy the day.”

Her face lit up with enthusiasm. “That sounds amazing. I love it.”

Seeing her excitement filled him with joy; this felt right. With their coffee date unfolding so smoothly, he was beginning to understand that this was not just about rekindling a spark but about building something new. 

As they wrapped up, Minghao walked her to her car, and the atmosphere felt electric. Before saying goodbye, he couldn’t resist leaning in slightly. “If I promise to make each outing better than the last, will you promise to keep coming back?”

Y/n looked at him, her expression softening. “I think I can manage that, if you also kiss me” she replied, her smile brightening the evening.

With a renewed sense of hope, Minghao pulled her in from her waist kissing her multiple times before backing up slightly and letting her get into the driver's seat, she rolled down the window and wagged her finger at him for one more kiss, and then he  watched her drive away, heart brimming with anticipation. He was ready to dive into this adventure, ready to explore whatever lay ahead with Y/n by his side. Their story was only just beginning, and for the first time in a long while, he felt like everything was falling into place. 

Epilogue

The days that followed were an exciting blur of planning and anticipation. Minghao found himself digging into his old notebooks, jotting down ideas for the scavenger hunt, trying to think of all the little things that made their city special. He wanted to weave in personal touches that would make the day unforgettable for Y/n—places that could bring back memories of their first date or spots he knew would make her full of  joy when he revealed them.

With each idea, he found he was not just planning an outing but also crafting an experience centered around her, and this realization filled him with a sense of purpose. He’d always believed that little moments could mean everything, and now he was eager to show Y/n just how much he cherished their new relationship.

When the day of the scavenger hunt arrived, Minghao woke up with a mix of nerves and excitement. He’d set everything in motion, and now all he needed to do was let the day unfold naturally. He picked a comfortable outfit—something relaxed but still appealing—and made his way to the meeting spot they had agreed on: a park that was alive with the sounds of laughter, children playing, and the distant strumming of a guitarist.

As he waited, he felt a buzz of anticipation in the air around him. The moment he spotted Y/n walking towards him, his heart soared. She looked radiant, her hair dancing in the breeze, and her smile lit up the entire park. 

“Hey, you.” she greeted, a lilt in her voice that made him grin wider.

“Ready for a little adventure?” he asked, trying to mask the excitement bubbling beneath his calm exterior.

“Absolutely. Just tell me what we’re doing,” she replied, eyes sparkling with curiosity.

“First off, we have to get our scavenger hunt gear,” he said, pulling out a small tote bag he had packed. Inside were colored pencils,a camera for taking photos at each stop, a notebook for jotting down clues, and a list of locations they'd be visiting.

“What’s all this?” she laughed, peering inside with delight.

“Just some supplies to help us document our adventure” Minghao said cheerily. “The first stop is that little coffee stand we found last week, where they have the pastries.”

With a shared laugh and playful banter, they made their way through the park, stopping for pictures at every significant spot—an old oak tree where they took selfies, a fountain that they threw pennies in while making a wish, and a mural that had caught Minghao’s eye during their last outing. The connection between them deepened as they shared stories, memories, and more feelings than ever. As they reached the coffee stand, Minghao took a moment to watch her as she chose her pastry. She had a way of illuminating the boring everyday things, and he felt grateful every time she shot him a smile. After they got their treats, he pulled out the next clue.

“Okay, next up,” he said with excitement, glancing down at the list he had created. “We have to find the spot where they sell the best ice cream in town. But there’s a catch—you have to lead the way.”

Y/n raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Me? Alright.. This should be interesting.”

With her leading the way, they began to navigate the streets, stopping to chat with street performers and peeking into quirky shops. As they reached the ice cream parlor, the enticing scent of waffle cones met them, and they quickly placed their orders. 

“That is definitely a win,” Minghao said, savoring the first bite of his matcha chocolate chip. He looked over to see Y/n’s eyes light up with delight as she tasted her basic but cute vanilla with sprinkles.

As they sat outside, sharing stories about their favorite childhood flavors, Minghao felt a warmth spreading in his chest. Each moment they shared layered on a sense of intimacy, deepening their bond.

The rest of the day continued in this delightful fashion, each stop on the scavenger hunt bringing them closer together, transforming their connection into something rooted in genuine affection. The final clue led them to an overlook, a perfect sunset view of the city sprawled out before them.

As they stood side by side, overlooking the vibrant hues of orange and pink washed across the sky, Minghao turned to her, feeling the weight of the moment. 

“I’m really glad I took this leap,” he said, his voice sincere. “Today has been incredible. You make everything better, including me.”

Y/n looked at him, her expression softening. “I feel the same way. This day has been one of the best I’ve had in a long time. Really, thank you.”

As the sun began to dip below the horizon, he could feel the pull toward her. He brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and leaned in, capturing her lips in a gentle yet tender kiss. It was a clear promise of what was to come—not just in this moment, but in all the moments yet to unfold.

Standing there, as the last light of day faded into twilight, Minghao felt a newfound certainty settle within him. This was just the beginning of a beautiful adventure with Y/n, and he was ready to explore every twist and turn that life had to offer together.

Minghao had set out to lose a girl in ten days but instead found something he never expected: a genuine connection. As he and y/n embarked on their new adventure as one and they both realized that sometimes love sneaks up on you when you least expect it, and sometimes, the risks of opening your heart are worth every moment.

[sanjisleggy]

trafalgar law with a winged!reader partner

summary: you have beautiful feathered wings on your back and your beloved, Trafalgar Law, is enamoured by them

a/n: based on a super cute request by an anon after they read this Shanks fic i wrote about him with a winged!reader :D also i didn’t know what to title this since there’s not really a storyline so imma just call it as it is

contents: fluff!!, soft!Law, very mild mention of seggsy times

wc. ~700

wanna be on my taglist?

Law absolutely adores your wings. it’s actually the feature that intrigued him enough to invite you to join his crew–after he’d done his due diligence as a captain, of course, and deemed your character and skill more than satisfactory. you’re a friendly and respectful enough person who’s extremely capable at airborne combat so it was easy enough to mask his invitation as one purely based on your abilities and not because he just really wanted to study your wings 

this fact is one of the things revealed to you long after you enter a romantic relationship with him and you still tease him about it to this day. you’d coo and pinch his cheeks while saying how cute it is he had a crush on you from the very start. the fact that he just takes it and doesn’t rebut is more than enough proof that you hit the nail on the head. if anyone else tries to tease him about it, though, he’ll threaten to shambles them into the ocean

needless to say, you’ve been together long enough that Law has become very familiar with your wings. he’s taken countless photos and drawn numerous diagrams of your bone and muscle structure from all angles. he even has a sketchbook or two just filled with doodles and finer sketches of you and your wings in various poses. he never thought himself to be the artistic type, not until he found someone worth making art of 

Law can tell how you feel from the way your wings behave. from every twitch to any spasm, he’s documented everything he’s observed over the years and committed the details to memory. it was never even intentional, he just realised one day that he could read you like a book without even seeing your face

when you found out about it, you began poking fun at him about that, too. your captain would be flustered at having been caught–a little annoyed, even–but then he’ll see the way your wings shiver and sway as you giggle and tease him and any negative feelings wash away. he’ll remind himself that you’ve been so gracious as to let him do whatever he wants with your wings, the least he can do as your boyfriend is let you have your fun

Law keeps track of your moulting weeks better than you do. if anything, you don’t even have to keep track of it yourself because you know it’s coming when he starts behaving more restlessly, and you catch him staring at your wings a lot more than usual

you know he really enjoys helping you moult but he never initiates it. you think it’s out of shyness and you’re partially correct but his greater concern is accidentally crossing a boundary. you’re the only person he knows with wings, after all, and no amount of research feels enough to avoid hurting you or making you uncomfortable in any way. you often reassure him that you love it when he helps you moult and that you trust him the most to touch your wings but still, he prefers to only assist you when you explicitly ask for his help

every time you tell him you need his help removing your feathers, he smiles a certain way and begins to blush, looking more flustered than when you have actual sex. you’ll legitimately never understand why but it’s still very cute to see

Law always takes his time when he helps out because he not only wants to make sure you don’t feel any discomfort at all but also because he just really likes hearing your little happy noises when he does a good job at relieving the itchiness that comes with moulting

he also loves running his fingers through your soft feathers and tracing the flow of the muscles that connect your wings to your back. he finds the sensation extremely calming and stress-relieving. he even does it in his sleep, completely unaware of it when he wakes up

every moulting session with Law usually ends with him rubbing and soothing your sensitive skin and combing your feathers until they’re nice and neat. afterwards he’ll give you some kisses as thanks before running off to his study to make more notes about your wings 

gen taglist: @irethepotato @i-reblog-fics-i-like @grierpilots @appalost @hyper-fic-ation @dressycobra7 @38lyra38 @chaseyui @paraparakiss @krooschl @teewon @olliesoxenfree @misstraffy @riftmage27 @aletch @somatchajade @kitsunechan707 @thesmolestsage @lunaizhere @saint-atlas @goldenpanda16 @jordan03400 @rebeccawinters @glorywielder101 @slytherinambitious @the0twst0shrimp0mc

[withleeknow]

wishful thinking. (08)

chapter eight: ships in the night

summary: the instruction was plain and simple: no strings attached. but you should’ve known from the beginning that it could never apply to you and him.

pairing: minho x f!reader rating: 18+ (minors dni) genres/warnings: friends to lovers, friends with benefits au, college au; fluff, angst, smut; i’ve been told this is the angstiest chapter yet saur yk you’ve been warned, mentions of past seggsy times, oc is self-deprecating self-sabotaging, oc has an anxiety attack in this one, erhm just Big Sad overall methinks, also could've been more edited but i am a godless monster word count: 7.2k note: wt is backkkkkk!! and it's the penultimate chapter omg :( lowkey nervous about how this is gonna be perceived bc i feel like my brand is Sad™️ and i haven't properly written anything Sad™️ in a WHILE. but yeah, wt8 is yours now have funnn. also ty chessica @matchannie for proofreading!!

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation / series masterpost / taglist

Sorry, I know that comment wasn’t funny Just wanted you to love me, but I didn’t go about it right Sometimes the best advice that I can give Is to bite my lip and listen with my big fat mouth shut tight

big fat mouth - Arlie

You don’t think you can ever forget the look on his face, the hurt in his eyes when the words had tumbled out of your mouth in a panicked frenzy. The regret was immediate, but so was the damage.

Saying things you didn’t mean, watching Minho so utterly defeated that it kills you, and the deafening silence after he had walked away from you on heavy footsteps – you can’t describe how it all felt that night. It’s just… sinking, and sinking, and sinking; endlessly spiraling in an ocean of your own guilt and despair. It’s true what they say – misery loves company.

Distractions don’t work, because whenever that overwhelming dread eases by even a fraction, you’re once again reminded by the bracelet that’s wrapped around your wrist with the tiny dove charm hanging on the side. Neither of you paid it any mind the other night, that much is clear.

You know you should return it to him eventually; it’s never belonged to you and it never will. But every time you go to take it off, you can’t bring yourself to simply undo the clasp and hide the bracelet somewhere you can’t see. It lets you delude yourself into thinking that you haven’t lost him even after what you said, even after you stomped on his heart and left it bleeding where you stood. 

You’d been upset, thinking that you were the only one falling, terrified that you’d crash headfirst into the cold, hard ground because there’d be nobody to catch you. And yet, when Minho told you he loved you, it provided you no relief at all. The fear magnified tenfold, taking over you until you couldn’t see straight, until it consumed you whole.

Home is something you find, and you’ve found it in him. Your sun and your spring and your home, and everything good that you can ever name.

All your life, something is always missing, an empty space that you never learned how to fill. Like when you exit a room and there’s a nagging feeling in your gut telling you that you’ve forgotten something even though all of your belongings are accounted for. Like when you lose your favorite ring, one that’s a little too loose but beloved anyway, slipping over your knuckle without your permission and disappearing forever, and you keep running your fingers over where the golden band used to be until you come to terms with the fact that it’s never coming back and you’ll spend the rest of your life mourning the loss of that familiarity.

You’ve always looked for things you lost in places you’ve never been.

You just want to go home, but you know you’ll only ruin it in the end.

The problem has never been Minho or anybody else. It’s you, and how there’s something intrinsically wrong with you. You paint the ending before there’s even a beginning. You’d rather run and hide than let yourself feel anything, because if there’s happiness then there’s going to be hurt inevitably.

You don’t want him to wake up one day and look at you like you’re a stranger, to realize that he’s wasted his time and effort, that you just weren’t worth it after all. 

It’s funny how, when you’re a child, time seems to move so quickly. One minute, you’re four, maybe five years old, and your mother is refusing to speak to you because she thinks you ruined one of her bags, a large scratch running along the otherwise smooth leather surface like it’s been met with a pair of scissors or simply accumulated on her way to work and she hadn’t noticed until she got home and you happened to be in the vicinity of her anger; the next, she’s letting you relish in all your favorite desserts, cavities be damned.

One minute, you’re being rushed to the hospital with a bad case of food poisoning, your parents staring down at you as if you’re actually about to die; the next, you’re already at home, watching cartoons that you couldn’t understand but you like anyway because they’re full of pretty colors and princesses and fairies.

You don’t remember how your mother came to forgive you for the bag even though it wasn’t your fault, or what the hospital felt like or if what the doctors and nurses did to make you feel better even hurt. You only know that you wish to return to a smaller version of yourself whose memories you can’t even recall, return to a time in which you once so desperately wanted to escape from.

Now, when you’re hurt, time doesn’t pass in a blink of an eye like it used to. It stands still, sucks you down a vortex and makes you feel everything. 

No one ever really warns you about growing pains, that they’re unavoidable no matter how hard you try to avoid them, that they can last a lifetime because you never really stop growing, and it never really seems to ache any less.

Hyunjin: Attachment: 1 Image. Hyunjin: i sent this one in  Hyunjin: u??

You’d almost forgotten about the exhibition until Hyunjin had sent you those texts. Even though you’re not one to neglect deadlines, you suppose it’s fairly reasonable that this one in particular had slipped your mind. You haven’t really been able to wrap your head around that many things after all.

Every semester, yours and Hyunjin’s department rents out a gallery near campus for a whole week to showcase students’ works. It’s nothing exclusive, nothing like a competition where they pit a couple hundred kids against each other just for a spot at a fancy art gallery. Almost anyone in the Faculty of Arts can register before the submission deadline, and you suppose that’s another reason why you’d overlooked it so easily – because you didn’t earn it. It didn’t feel special. It was just another meaningless event to attend.

Regardless, you spent a chunk of an afternoon pondering your selection though it didn’t matter that much, almost two hours dedicated to picking out paintings you realized you didn’t love. Some you even turned out to hate, even though you could remember the pride radiating from you the moments the canvas had felt the last brush stroke. Maybe the glamor eventually wore off, the momentary high that coursed through you when you’d shown your finished works to your professors and peers, and received showers of praise in return.

The piece you chose in the end wasn’t your favorite by any means, but it was one of the only pieces you could still bear to look at without nitpicking too much. It was a painting of the waters, and you’ve always loved the waters.

You could recall the day you went to the promenade by yourself with a need to be away from everyone and everything, and an overshirt that was too light to combat the September evening chill as summer transitioned into fall. You watched the sky slowly darken after the sun had disappeared from view, watched as the buildings on the other side of the river lit up one by one until they made up for the light that retired for the day.

The thin layers made you shiver – the consequence of your poor choice in clothing that night – but there was something about sitting by the waterfront after dark, kicking pebbles around underneath your feet, and the gentle caress of the wind on your face and your hair that made the cold feel welcoming. You always thought the city was more beautiful at night, more calming amidst all of its perpetual chaos. It made you feel like you were inside a dream long forgotten, took you back to a north star that you left to gather dust on an abandoned shelf.

You could recall wanting to dive into that dream again, a dream in which you could chase a perfect version of you that would never exist and find light at the end of the tunnel, instead of returning to the reality where you always wound up suffocating in darkness. You wanted to be free, free from the noise and free from your own life despite one simple truth that you knew all too well – that you could run but never from yourself.

When you were young, it’s the moon that used to follow you everywhere. As you get older, it’s all of the things that keep you up at night.

You could recall your phone buzzing to life in your bag with Minho’s name on the screen, like a sign from the universe saying “Hey, this one’s for you. Don’t drown. You have a lighthouse.” and it was as though he could sense that you were falling, like someone had tied your heart to a rock and threw it into the very river in front of you to sink to the bottom. Your friends often said he had some sort of sixth sense when it came to you. Maybe there was some truth in that.

His voice pulled you out of it, even though he only called to ask if you wanted to come over and eat the boatload of food his mom had sent. He made you want to disappear a little less and in that moment, it was enough.

You left your hiding place to go to him, to lose yourself in stupid jokes and not-too-sweet desserts even if it was only for a couple hours. And when you returned home that night, everything spilled onto the canvas just from memory alone, from the feeling that you were desperately clinging onto with your shaking hands.

You always thought you could only run away to places. You didn’t know people could be escapes too, and somewhere along the way, that was what Minho became to you — your treasured escape, your new hiding place.

You manage to avoid everyone – with the exception of Hyunjin; you do have to see him in class after all – over the two and a half weeks leading up to the exhibition, drumming up excuse after excuse to bail whenever any of them asks to grab a bite together or just to simply hang out. If they saw you, they’d notice your puffy eyes and ask if you’ve been crying. They would ask why, and you can’t find in yourself to make up a lie believable enough for that kind of question.

You think Hyunjin has noticed. He’s a bit of an idiot sometimes, but he’s not stupid and he’s still blessed with the gift of sight. He doesn’t mention anything though, despite you showing up to almost every class with puffy eyelids. You suppose you’re grateful for that.

Minho hasn’t talked to you at all since that night. Doesn’t ask you how your project’s going, doesn’t ask you about the exhibition, barely even speaks in the group chat, not even a boring comment about the weather. What were you expecting anyway? You get it, you do.

But despite the silence, you never doubted that he would show up to the exhibition. If not for you, then he would be there to support Hyunjin.

The only person who really has an inkling that something is wrong is Jess, when you were getting ready together earlier tonight and she helped you conceal your puffy eyes. She’d tiptoed around the question before settling on  asking “Everything okay?” — simple, easy, quickly dismissible if you didn’t feel like sharing.

You didn’t, and she dropped the subject because there was no point in badgering you for answers anyway. 

Chan picked the both of you up afterward, and Jess didn’t have to explain anything to him when she slipped into the backseat with you instead of riding next to her boyfriend.

Now here you are, standing in a room full of your friends and peers, wearing a black dress that Jess helped you choose, and Minho is nowhere to be found. You’d spent all day pacing around, anxious at the mere thought of seeing him and even talking to him. What you hadn’t anticipated was the disappointment, the unbearable feeling in the pit of your stomach in response to his absence. You can’t tell which is worse; maybe every moment without him all sucks the same.

When Hyunjin starts whining and takes out his phone to spam Minho’s messages demanding his location (you’re thankful that it didn’t have to come to you), all he receives in return is a measly “Running late.”

And that’s it. A mere text is enough to satiate everyone’s curiosity. Well, everyone but Hyunjin, because he’s still a nagging drama queen.

Minho is running late, and to anyone else, it’s the most normal thing in the world.

But to you… it means something beyond that. Because this was him. This was your Minho. Your Minho who’s never been known for his tardiness, who’s never once broken a promise, who’s always there for you no matter what.

All you know right now is his absence, and it makes you sink.

You sink, and then you wait. Not a lot to be done about it.

You slip away to a quiet spot, a vacant hallway, to be by yourself while everyone is out there wandering around and gorging themselves on the free food and drinks. You shouldn’t be with them anyway. All you need is to wallow in peace and not be the black cloud hanging over everybody’s heads.

There’s something so incredibly lonely in the act of waiting. Waiting to board a plane, waiting in line at the grocery store. Waiting for a phone call or text message that you know won’t come, waiting for a person whom you can only hope would show up. At the end of the day, that’s what waiting is, isn’t it? It’s wanting. It’s hoping, and if there’s one thing you know about hope, it’s that it’s dangerous.

You wonder if this is how Minho felt all this time, waiting on a girl who’s always prepared to leave. You wonder if, that night, he had expected you to reciprocate his feelings. You did. You do, and a part of you wanted to tell him that you loved him too. The words were there, and yet…

It’s true that you love him, and it’s true that you don’t want to. If hope is dangerous then love is fucking terrifying. 

He’d been so patient with you, so awfully gentle and quiet in the chasm of his waiting that you mistook the tenderness for everything except for what it actually was – love. Or perhaps you did know. Maybe deep down, you knew that you would’ve loved him back with everything you had, with every fiber of your being. That you would’ve let him be the only one to ever really know you, and it felt like a fear greater than you could bear. 

In the end, did you lose him? Can you lose something you never had? It wasn’t a love that you let slip away; it was a what if.

You’re in a room with people who love you and yet, all you can think about is Minho. You miss him so much that it feels like someone has spliced you in two, that it physically makes you ache every second that he isn’t with you. As selfish as it sounds, you want him to walk through the door and you want everything to be okay again. You want to be back in a bubble with just the two of you and a locked box filled with words unsaid. You thought you could stay in that bubble forever, where it was safe and you could pretend that you were happy, and maybe you really were happy with him. But all things — good or bad — must come to an end. The bubble burst, and this was the real world.

You want to undo your cruelty, want him to take back his sincerity. You want an ocean of distance between you and him, you want to pull him as close as humanly possible. All your wants are contradictions. You’re a paradox of puzzle pieces that never seem to fit together.

You want to tell him that it hurts. Want him to make it better because he’s the only one who can make it better.

But miracles rarely happen and there are no shooting stars in sight. Minho was the closest thing you got to a shooting star, burning across your night sky for just a brief moment. Blink and you could miss it. Blink and you did miss him.

Your fingers find his contact in your phone before you could stop yourself, and soon enough, you’re pressing the call button. It’s like drunk dialling, only you aren’t intoxicated. Or maybe you are; maybe you’re under the influence of his absence and how much it stings.

You don’t know why you’re calling him, don’t know what to even say when he picks up.

Thankfully, you don’t have to wonder for long.

“Your call has been forwarded to voicemail. Please leave your message after the tone,” comes the automated voice on the other end.

For some reason, you don’t hang up. You wait for the beep, then you wait some more. It’s not until ten seconds later that you find your voice, the only thing to come out of your mouth is a quiet Hey.

You clear your throat, rub the sweaty palm of your free hand on your dress. “Hey,” you try again. “It’s… me. I’m at the gallery with everyone. Uhm, they’re all waiting for you. Are you on your way? Are you stuck in traffic? Or did you forget it was today? Hyunjin is trying really hard not to blow up your phone–” You pause to chuckle dryly. “But you know it would mean a lot to him to have you here. It… it’d mean a lot to me too if you were here. I don’t know, I assumed you’d come. I’m sorry, that was stupid of me. I just…” Another pause. This time, it’s so that you could take a breath. “Listen, Minho, I didn’t mean what I said to you. I’m sorry I was an asshole. I’m sorry that I hurt you, I don’t have any excuse for that. You deserve better than me. It’s going to pass, you know? I’m sorry if you’ve wasted your time on me, but… you’re going to find someone else, and you’re going to get over it. I’m sorry I fucked everything up. It’s fine if you never want to talk to me again, just please don’t let it get between you and our fr–”

The line beeps again. “To replay the message, press 1. To save the message, press 2. To delete the message, press 3.”

You purse your lips together. There’s still a lump in your throat and no peace to be made. It’s like drunk dialling, only you pull yourself together at the very last second. Your thumb hovers over the dial pad on your phone until you eventually end up on 3, because your cowardice will always triumph in the end. Back to square one. Everything’s still the same as it was five minutes ago.

You force your legs to move, like how you'd force yourself to get up and eat and drink water and shower and be a person these days. When you round the corner, you bump against something solid. A person. The collision isn’t hard enough to knock you backward; they weren’t moving, they’d only been standing still.

You look up at Seungmin, who merely blinks at you. You don’t know how long he’s been here, if he heard anything at all. You swallow once, considering whether you should just play dumb and gauge his reaction or ask point blank if you’ve been caught. He beats you to the decision though.

“You and Minho,” Seungmin says, a bit hesitant, like the topic is weird to bring up. “You’re the girl.”

A deer in headlights, you are. A pathetic one at that, too.

But even then, you’re not panicked, not really. You’re just sad, and the truth was bound to come out eventually. 

“Please don’t tell anyone,” you say.

The discarded voicemail that he overheard, the dejection written all over your face, the silence from both you and Minho recently — it’s obvious to pretty much everyone, and Seungmin is smarter than most.

He opens his mouth and shuts it again like he’s choosing his words. The Seungmin-esque blank stare melting away to make space for some pity, then a question, “Is there anything left to tell?”

You escape to the empty garden in the back where there were a few lonely chairs set up, so you could have some privacy to talk. Despite everything, it feels like you’ve got a little breathing space, just being able to share this with someone. To not have to carry it all on your own. You’re glad that it was Seungmin who found out first. You have a feeling that he would understand, at least to some degree. You’re relieved, even when the first question that he asks is, “So, how did you fuck it up?”

“Why do you just automatically assume it was me?” You’re mildly offended, even though he’s right.

“Between you and Minho, I’d bet on you.” Seungmin shrugs. “You spook easily.”

“I deeply resent that notion.”

He turns to look at you, no trace of any teasing. “Can you prove me wrong?”

But you can’t, and it tells him as much when you avert his eyes in favor of the ground, where you kick at a lonesome pebble sitting among the grass. It lands somewhere between the green blades, lost in the shadows that cast over parts of the garden that are poorly lit.

“So what happened?” he asks, turning away again to stare out at the empty space. You like to think of it as him giving you some elbow room, to ease the pressure of being scrutinized. And as much as you appreciate it, it still takes you another brief moment before you can formulate a coherent sentence, another minute of twiddling your fingers in your lap.

You tell Seungmin about your first night with Minho – not the details, of course; that would be weird and it’s none of his business. Just that it happened, how you both let it keep happening over the past few months while nobody suspected a thing.

Seungmin nods solemnly, like he’s putting together the missing pieces.

“Did you ever notice anything?” you ask.

“I mean… not about you hooking up, but we thought you’d end up together eventually.” He shrugs. “We always kinda assumed that you two would become those people who make a pact to get married if you’re still single by 40 or 50, if you didn’t get together before then. It makes sense. You and Minho just sort of make sense.”

“Oh,” you say. Your heart swoops. Hearing it from Seungmin makes you sad. Not the same brand of sadness that you’ve been wearing lately though. A different kind, the kind of sadness that’s a little numbing and makes it difficult to breathe. “Well, sorry to disappoint everyone but I don’t think any of it is gonna happen anymore.”

“So… how did it happen?” Seungmin asks again, mimicking explosions with his hands.

You let him off easy without a punch in the shoulder, because you just really don’t have the energy for it right now. “Minho wanted something more,” you tell your friend, fiddling with the rings on your fingers, then with the necklace charm resting on your collarbone. “And I just… I don’t know. I guess I freaked. I… said some awful stuff to him.”

Seungmin hums a sound of acknowledgement. He looks like he’s thinking about it, about you and Minho and what it means. “Classic,” he chuckles after a brief moment, mostly to himself. Maybe he’s thinking about what it means beyond just the pair of you too.

You side-eye him. “You’d know all about it, wouldn’t you?”

He shoots the glance back at you. “What are you trying to say here?”

You remember her, the only girl that Seungmin has ever hinted at liking. He never admitted it out loud to any of you, but you could all see it.

You only used to see her in passing at house parties, and even then, it wasn’t Seungmin nor her who brought the other one around. They would show up separately with their own group, mingle for a while, find each other after a couple of drinks before they disappeared to god-knows-where for the rest of the night. Sometimes, Changbin or Hyunjin would catch them before they could sneak off and insist that Seungmin let everyone get to know his friend.

These brief interactions are all you have with her, meaningless small talk for a few minutes before Seungmin’s patience ran thin and he whisked her away like they’d both intended. You liked her; she was nice, and she was really pretty. You liked her even though you didn’t know her, because she was the one person who Seungmin cared about enough to keep away from prying eyes. A secret shared only between the two of them, a bubble in which only they existed.

The last time you saw her with him must’ve been at least three months ago, maybe even longer. No one really knows what happened, just that she stopped showing up to parties, and Seungmin never brought it up again. You all assumed whatever he had going on with her had run its course, though it doesn’t really stop Hyunjin and Jisung from mentioning her every now and again just to tease him.

“I seem to recall a Halloween party last year and a certain someone was in a bee costume and–”

“Fine,” Seungmin interjects, rolling his eyes. “Fine, we can form our own dumbass club. Happy?”

You laugh a little, even though the whole thing isn’t very funny. Your shared experience is nothing to take pride in.

“So how did you blow it up?” you ask.

He gives you a sour glare before his eyes soften. He doesn’t say anything for a while, and in his silence you find that you and him are more similar in ways that you’ve never cared enough to admit before. This sadness that you carry, you have a feeling that he knows it all too well.

“Like I said, classic,” Seungmin tells you. “She wanted something more. I freaked. I ghosted her.”

A mirror. Two sides of the same stupid coin.

You lean back against your seat. “Did you like her?”

It takes a beat, but his answer comes out as an honest, “Yeah, I liked her. Liked her too much.”

“Why did you do that to her then?”

“Why did you do that to Minho?” Seungmin deadpans, but he doesn’t seem to want a response from you. He just sighs, wistfully adding, “I’ve thought about it a lot. It’s scary to be wanted because it means someone’s putting you on a pedestal, and when you’re on a pedestal, the more it’ll hurt if you fall off. The more they’re counting on you to not let them down, the easier it is to fuck it all up. People like us, we’re flight risks. We can’t help it. We think it’s better to just leave before we can do any real damage. When you said whatever terrible shit you said to Minho, that was the first thing you thought about, right? To be cruel? That’s what I did too. Such a fucking stupid knee-jerk reaction.”

You don’t know how to respond, so you just sit there, completely still. 

Then Seungmin turns to you, and for the first time in all the years that you’ve known him, he’s looking at you, really looking at you. No snarky side-eye, no playful faux glare. Just a strange and unfamiliar sincerity, like he’s asking you to fix what he couldn’t, undo the cruelty that he never bothered apologizing for.

“Minho would understand, you know? If you’d just talk to him,” Seungmin says. “You made a mistake in the heat of the moment. But you want to have something real with him, don’t you? Otherwise you wouldn’t be here talking to me about this and beating yourself up over it.”

“I told you. That ship sailed.” And you’re standing up for no apparent reason other than the fact that you’re suddenly restless, your stomach twisting in knots out of nowhere. “He’s not even here. He didn’t even show up tonight. I think that’s saying enough.”

Your friend rises to his feet too, probably because he thinks it’s weird to be the only one sitting now while you’re upset and pacing about. It’s not until Seungmin takes a step closer that you realize you’re shaking a little.

“Hey, you good?” He puts a hand on your shoulder. “I talked to Minho yesterday. He said he’d come. Maybe something came up or he just–”

Hyunjin’s voice interrupts Seungmin in the middle of his sentence, the excited squeal carrying itself from all the way inside the gallery to the back garden through the door left ajar. Speak of the devil and he shall appear, maybe there’s a reason why people say it. It’s laughable, really.

You and Seungmin both turn your attention to the brief commotion indoors, where you see Hyunjin smiling so big that his eyes have crinkled into crescent moons, where he’s standing with his arm thrown around Minho and shaking him by the shoulders.

These days, it’s easy to pretend that time is standing still. You don’t even know if time is even passing at all; you’re just looking at him, dressed in a black blazer and some dress pants. Casual but he looks good. He always does.

You watch as he says something to Hyunjin that seems to calm the latter down a bit, at least enough for Minho to quickly scan the room, searching. You watch as his eyes sweep through all the people gathered inside, not stopping until they land on you, finding you on the other side of the glass door. Even in this terrible lighting, not entirely visible you assume, he sees you.

There was a conversation you had with Minho some time ago, when you two were sprawled out on your couch munching on strawberry Peperos and not paying attention to the movie that was playing on your TV, when he asked how you wanted your life to be at 40.

You knew what the boring answer was – you wanted your life to be stable, and you told him as much. Isn’t stability always the goal? Maybe a lame corporate job if the whole starving-artist-who-makes-it-big-overnight dream didn’t pan out. A cat and a dog named Mochi and Mocha, if you could afford two pets at once. An apartment that you owned, with framed pictures of everything you loved scattered all over the place, and stupidly cute fairy lights that you often see on Pinterest, and an unfathomable amount of plushies that your inner child was never indulged in. A peaceful and quiet life, at least to some extent. 

The honest answer, the one that you didn’t tell him, was you wanted to not live with regret.

But as you lock eyes with him, for a split second there, you know that you will.

About twenty years down the line, when you look back on your life and think of this chapter, you’ll think about a boy who loved you and whom you loved. How you broke both of your hearts trying to protect your own. You’ll wonder if he’s married, if he has kids, if he still reminisces about the girl he used to love when he was young. If he’s happy and if his dreams came true. If the sadness you caused yourself was worth it, if the pain meant anything at all. If you could go back in time and undo everything, would you?

You’ll get over it eventually – surely you will; heartbreak isn’t the end of the world – but you’ll live with the grief of what could’ve been if you weren’t afraid. You’ll be left to mourn the road not taken, your almost but never was. 

You’re the one who moves first, when it starts to become a struggle just to breathe. You stumble away from Minho’s line of sight, until you find a wall that you can rest against.

Seungmin is quick to follow. “Hey, woah, are you okay?”

Your hands alternate between balling themselves into tight fists and attempting in vain to grab at the flat surface of the concrete. There are no words that you can form to answer him. Only your ragged breathing and your pathetic effort to take in some air through your mouth.

“Okay, shit, uhm,” Seungmin sputters. “Hang on.”

Then he’s taking off. You don’t know how long he’s gone for, where he’s gone off to, and frankly, you can’t really bring yourself to care. Your hands abandon the wall in favor of your dress, something that you can actually hold onto. Your trembling fingers clutch the hem of your dress like they’re pretending it’s a lifeline, bunching and twisting the fabric in your sweaty palms. Hoping it’ll help, but it doesn’t at all.

Even over the sound of your heartbeat ringing in your ears, you could hear new footsteps coming out into the empty garden. Rushed at first, then they stop for a brief moment. You know who it is before he even approaches you.

Damn that Kim Seungmin.

The familiar scent of his cologne greets you before his voice. You spent hours and hours enveloped in this scent until it was dulled by sweat from the activities you were engaged in, if it wasn’t already softened by the kisses you would leave all over his skin.

When he calls your name, it comes out so soft, like you never broke his heart in the first place and that night was only a figment of your twisted imagination. He sounds so gentle, yet it sends you further down the crippling spiral. You don’t deserve him; maybe you never did, despite what Seungmin tried to put through your head earlier.

“I’m fine.” But you know your appearance has already betrayed your words. The first thing you say to him in weeks, and it’s a lie. You’re still leaning against the wall with your arms wrapped tightly around your trembling frame and your eyes squeezed shut. It’s a pitiful sight. Even more so when it registers in your brain that it’s Minho of all people who’s witnessing it. 

He doesn’t say anything else, only lets out a sigh, and then his hand is on your body, a warm palm touching the small of your back out of habit before he moves it upward to rub between your shoulder blades. “Can you breathe?”

His question makes you all too aware that there’s something gnawing inside of your chest, makes you think for a second there that you’re going to die though you know that you won’t. You shake your head with your eyes still closed, your breathing coming out more ragged by the second. You can’t even bear to look at him and absorb the worry in his eyes; you’re sure you’ll only cry if you do, and it’s the last thing you need right now.

But it turns out that seeing Minho’s face isn’t the only thing that can bring you to tears. When you feel him tug at your arms, his warmth on your bare skin, you start crying anyway and that makes it even harder to breathe. There’s not a single ounce of resistance in your body, your limbs obeying him easily when they untangle themselves around your waist to fall by your sides as he pulls you into his chest, with one hand over your sternum and his thumb rubbing back and forth. He’s careful about it too, like he’s handling broken pieces of something that used to be beautiful.

“You’re okay,” he says, but you’ve got your face pressed into the crook of his neck and your tears are staining the collar of his shirt. “You’re gonna be fine. Just… listen to me.”

You stay quiet, waiting for him to speak next.

“Name three things you can see,” he says. “You don’t have to say it out loud. Just think about it.”

You open your eyes finally, angling your head until most of your vision isn’t obstructed by the proximity of his body. Minho tightens his arm around you, and you blink away some of the tears.

Your black heels that your mom got you for your birthday a while ago.

The grass, darkened green and damp.

Him. 

“Three things you can hear.”

Light chatter coming from inside the gallery.

Cars passing by on the adjacent street.

Him, the sound of his breathing.

“Three things you can touch.”

The soft material of your dress against your skin.

The bracelet, hugging your wrist, weighing you down like an anchor.

And… him.

Him, him, him.

You don’t know what reason Minho makes up to excuse you for the rest of night, but you don’t bother asking. There’s really no space left in your head to think about it twice, to care about leaving your friends or feel guilty about Hyunjin because he was so excited about today. It’s too much; all you want is to go home, get away from here.

Minho calls you both an Uber back to your place. During the entire ride, he doesn’t say a word and neither do you. And even though you mostly opt for looking out the window at the other cars and houses and people passing by, every now and then you could feel his eyes on you from the other side of the backseat.

When you arrive, he keeps a hand on the small of your back as you make your way up the stairs. When you unlock the door, you leave it open so he could follow you inside. You suppose that one is a force of habit. You’re not used to shutting the door in his face. At least, not in the literal sense anyway.

Then it returns, that gnawing feeling. A feeling far too colossal for your body to house. It sits somewhere inside your ribcage, sharp and desperate, with claws trying to dig its way out. And for the first time in maybe ever, you understand what it truly means to want something this badly. You love him, and it hurts. You love him even though it hurts.

Minho moves around the place while you remain frozen in the middle of your own apartment, as if he’s the one who lives here and you’re just visiting for the night. You let him take off your makeup (with a wipe; you’re going to hate yourself in the morning), let him help you change into clothes that you can sleep in, even let him tuck you into bed like you’re a helpless child. If he notices the bracelet on you, he doesn’t say anything. Everything is done in silence.

You don’t look him in the eye. You don’t think you can handle what you’ll find there.

But you do reach for his hand when he tries to leave now that there’s nothing left for him to do here. There’s not a single thought behind your action, just a need to have him near.

“Can you…?” 

You aren’t brave enough to finish the question, your voice trailing off and the words dissipating like smoke after a lonely cigarette drag. You’re being selfish right now, you’re awfully aware of this.

Minho doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even let out a single sigh. For a second there, you think he’s about to leave you here, cold and alone, just like you had done to him. It would be nothing less than what you deserve.

But then he’s shrugging off his blazer and your heart is in your throat. When he slips into bed beside you, something hurts, the kind of ache that spreads all across your chest and makes your lungs burn.

Earlier tonight, he could’ve walked away and let you be somebody else’s burden. Your friends were all there, it’s not like they would’ve left you stranded.

You’re not really sure what to think. It doesn’t mean that he doesn’t hate you, but maybe it’s just enough confirmation that he doesn’t hate you more than he loves you.

You break the deafening stretch of silence with a whisper, “I’m sorry.” You don’t know what the apology is for. Are you sorry for that night, for the things you said to him? Are you sorry that you’re only yourself, that he just had to go ahead and fall for you of all people? Sorry that you’re too much of a coward and a lost cause to love him right? You don’t know, but it feels appropriate to apologize. You owe him that much.

“Don’t…” Minho says after a while. “You don’t have to do that.”

The familiar sensation returns – the one that stings the back of your eyes, burns your nostrils and makes you all choked up. You try to hold your breath and will it away, but the first tear spills without your permission, and you can’t help the shaky inhale – close to a gasp and followed by a sniffle – that punctuates your lungs when they start protesting against the sudden lack of oxygen. 

You grip the sheets so hard you think you could rip through the fabric and dig into your own palm. It’s a pathetic feeling, like a strange kind of embarrassment that you can’t quite describe. The room is deadly quiet; you know there’s no way he didn’t catch the noise.

You hear Minho shift from where he lays behind you, some rustling when he moves against the duvet and the mattress. “Don’t cry,” he sighs. And it’s still so gentle. You’ve never known him to be anything but gentle.

You bite the inside of your cheek, blinking some of the tears away. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. Just… don’t cry.” It sounds like he’s holding something back but you aren’t sure. “Don’t cry. Go to sleep. We can talk in the morning, if you want.”

You sniffle some more, and maybe that makes Minho think he still needs to appease you even further. He reaches out finally, to brush a comforting hand against your arm. “Go to sleep. Promise I’ll be here when you wake up.”

You don’t know if you want to talk in the morning, because there’s nothing for you to say. All you really have is what he’s already heard – I’m sorry, like an utterly broken record. But you want him to stay even if it’s only for the morning. Even if all he’ll get is silence at best and choked up breaths at worst. Your last-ditch attempt at grasping straws, a futile effort to chase running water.

“Okay,” you tell him, and neither of you says anything afterward. The tears keep falling for a while, and at some point it tires you out enough to slip into a dreamless sleep.

When you open your eyes hours later, the sun is already up. The clock on your phone reads 7:06AM and the first thing you register is an uncomfortable dryness in your throat. Behind you, the bed is still warm. You can actually feel it underneath your fingertips when you reach out, the warmth dwindling from the side of the bed that’s been left vacant. Minho has never broken a promise to you before.

He’s gone, and you sink again.

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 08.01.2025]

[leqonsluv3r]

picnic date with Leon 🥺

love

re2!leon kennedy x f!reader

— a oneshot (request)

warnings: so much fluff it’s kinda gross, a little touching, mentions of sex, reader is female and uses (she/her) pronouns, leon is the best boyfriend ever and we love him for that, no physical description of reader except that she has hair, pet names (baby, sweet girl, etc.) based heavily on love by lana del rey (leon is lana coded bc i say so).

“she didn’t know what else to expect to her already worse work week, besides the papers that always seemed to pile up on her desk and swarm her like a colony of hungry bees. she hated her job, wanted to slap her boss and her co-workers. so how could this week get any worse? she thinks it will when her phone buzzes with a text from leon, only to find out if she wants to go on a picnic date this weekend. suddenly, her week just got better by a thousand percent.”

— or reader is having a terrible week and leon decides to spoil his favorite girl

an: thank you for the request, i loved writing something that wasn’t pure smut for once. did include a little seggsy tho (i can’t resist). gave my overworked brain a little vacation lol. i took your idea and ran with it, hope you enjoy <3

masterlist taglist

she actually hated her boss. hated him.

aside from spilling coffee on herself this morning before she left for the office, she had a thousand reports on her desks and emails flooding her work inbox. her boss went on a rant about her work performance and the fact that he was almost using his superiority as a manager to make her feel belittled was enough to send her blood pumping through her veins.

but mindlessly, she tried to get through her day. taking deep breaths and trying not to freak out on her boss. only did her day get worse when she overheard gossip in the break room.

“i hear she’s like some prude. her boyfriend only touches her when he’s drunk.”

she listens in on the gossip, pouring herself some coffee that hopefully won’t make its way onto her pencil skirt again. she wondered who they could possibly be talking about so openly in the middle of the day in the break room.

the other voice goes on, one of her coworkers that she knew from working here so many years, “that’s not true. i know her personally. she told me she’s waiting for marriage.”

her ears perk up at this, all the blood draining from her face, she knew they were talking about her now. her worst fears have been confirmed. she should’ve never stupidly trusted someone she worked with to keep such information about her relationship with leon, private.

she felt so stupid. but they kept going and she kept listening. the other women who she didn’t know opened her mouth again, “still, how much of a prude do you have to be to wait until marriage? like just fuck and get it over with already. unless he’s ugly…”

she feels anger rise in her like tsunami. leon? ugly? he could never be ugly. he was so fucking beautiful. how could this random woman even say that about her and her relationship without even knowing her? she kept her back turned and waited for the coworker she was more familiar with to say something.

“he’s actually quite a looker. shame she got her hands on him, if i had a man like that. i would fuck him until he couldn’t see straight.” she fisted her porcelain coffee cup with white knuckles, almost fuming and waiting for steam to pour out of her ears. jesus, she wanted to smack this woman silly, she considered them friends and now she was just so openly bragging to another woman of the company…that she wanted to fuck her boyfriend of two years.

she fumed and briskly left the break room with her coffee, slamming the door to the room shut behind her as she briskly walked back to her office, trying to keep up a demeanor that was professional and meanwhile she was seething on the inside.

she finally reached her office and went inside, slamming the door as she rounded her desk and sat her cup of coffee down on it. she leaned her elbows on her desk, burying her hands into her hands.

she wanted to cry, this week had been terrible and today was one of the worst out of all of them. and she needed to manage to get through it until after tomorrow.

thanking god it was thursday, one more day and she wouldn’t have to think of this place for a solid 48 hours. she took shaky breaths, trying to calm herself so she didn’t cry at her desk at work. she was still fuming from hearing that conversation in the break room about her personal life.

eventually, her phone buzzed on her desk and she looked down at her phone. she sighs and shakes her head, praying it’s not another report or upset client. she can’t handle anymore of that today, or this week for that matter.

she grabs her phone and looks at the contact, it was leon, she sighs in relief and smiles as she opens the text thread, looking at the screen.

LEON <3 : hey baby, just wanted to check in on my break. hope your doing okay, know it’s been a rough one for u.

besides wanting to cry at my desk all morning. first my boss says my reports are useless and utter shit. then i hear two of my coworkers gossiping in the break room about me like it’s no big deal. i hate this place, this week has sucked :(

LEON <3 : whoa, what? oh my god. are you okay? i know that’s so stupid to ask considering everything u just told me but…god. i’m so sorry.

no, i’m humiliated. i feel like stabbing my eyes out with my pencils at my desk. i hate this place, i hate everyone. minus u ofc <3

but seriously, i can’t wait to get through tomorrow and just be done with this place. even if it’s for two days.

LEON <3 : hmmm, that reminds me. do you still plan on coming over on friday night?

uhhh, yeah. considering i haven’t seen you all week. unless your canceling on me. which just makes me wanna cry more :,)

LEON <3 : oh god no, fuck that. i would never cancel on you baby. i just have an idea. and i was wondering if you would like it, considering how stressful and overwhelming your week has been.

i’m listening….

LEON <3 : you still come over on friday night, you pack a change of clothes and we go for a picnic on saturday. i know a good spot. and plus, im a good cook.

you don’t have to…

LEON <3 : but i WANT too. i wanna make my girl happy after having such an awful week. you need this baby. don’t bother arguing with me >:)

fineeee i suppose i could pack an overnight bag, stay the whole weekend at your place. go on a little picnic and ACTUALLY enjoy myself for once.

LEON <3 : that’s the spirit my love :). don’t worry, i’ll take care of you this weekend. don’t stress and don’t worry. trust in your amazing boyfriend ;)

you are an amazing boyfriend. don’t let that boost your already enormous ego though lol. god, i miss you so much. i can’t wait to see you. :,)

LEON <3 : you only have a little less then 48 hours to go before you see my handsome face again. don’t worry your pretty head baby, i’ll make you forget all about this week. spoil the absolute shit out of you. <3

okay, i gotta get back to work before my boss comes in to belittle me some more about phone usage at work :,). i’ll see you soon babe, i love you.

LEON <3 : see you soon beautiful girl, i love you too. gotta go bust some criminals lol. ttyl :)

she sighs in content, a lovesick grin on her features. she felt so much better, just talking to him through text even. it was enough to make her heart swell with love and forget all about the incidents this week.

she couldn’t wait to see him on friday night, then go on a picnic on saturday like he promised. she needed him like air sometimes. and he had been pulling shifts so frequently at the station that she barely ever saw him.

it sucked, yes. but when they did get to see each other it was absolutely worth it. she knew that he was gonna stay true to his word like he always did. make her happy, spoil her and make her forget all about her sucky week at work.

she loved him so much, it was almost consuming sometimes. overwhelming to think that before she met him two years ago, she had never known love or that men like him could even exist.

god, she was praying for this weekend to come sooner. and hopefully, it would.

eventually she made it to friday, she managed to get through the day, working as hard as she could. she dealt with clients, dodged the lecturing of her boss and the gossiping of her coworkers.

she slipped out early, not really giving a fuck because all her work was finished as far as she was concerned. she had better places to be. like leon’s apartment for example.

she had packed an overnight bag that morning, watered her plants and made sure she had everything. she had kept her overnight bag stored in her car just so when she got off work, she could head straight over.

she sent him a text that she was off and she was heading over early, putting the car in reverse and leaving her works parking lot.

she drove down the familiar streets and roads until she made it to leon’s apartment, parking her car in the guest parking spot. she got out, grabbing her overnight bag and everything else she needed as she locked the car behind her.

she walked over to the gate to enter the complex, typing in the numbers and once it buzzed, she opened it and let herself in. she made her way up to the second floor, walking over to where his apartment was. she slipped her key to his apartment, unlocking the door and slipping off her shoes.

“baby? you home?” she calls out as she drops her overnight bag by her shoes, dropping her keys on the coffee table. she looks around, she feels a buzzing in her hand where her phone is. she looks at the text from leon saying he was on his way home from his shift.

she sighed and looked around his apartment, looking down at the coffee table where she sat her keys in front of his couch. she saw something sticking out from in between the pages of a book he was reading. “what the…?” she opened the book and looked in the book.

a piece of paper with scribbled writing over it, leon’s from what she recognized. she started to read the crumpled up piece of paper.

[READER],

ever since i’ve known you, i’ve loved you. i’ve never wanted anyone more then i’ve wanted you. i’m not just doing this in the hopes you’ll say yes, i’m doing this with the intention that you’ll let me love you for as long as we’re both alive.

i’m not doing it like this to be cliche, i know how much you think im corny. how hard i try to make sure you’re not laughing at me (even though i love your laugh more than anything.) i want you to know that i love you. i always have, i always will.

with that, will you please do me the honor of being my wife?

it would be my greatest achievement as man, as your boyfriend and future husband if you’ll let me.

she feels her eyes well up with subtle tears, wiping at her eyes as she looked down at the crumpled up notebook paper with a small smile, even though the letter didn’t say much, it said enough.

this was just more then a simple picnic, she knew now. why he was so keen on taking care of her this weekend. taking her out for a picnic tomorrow. she can’t believe he wanted to marry her, she wasn’t shocked but she was…she wanted to cry. it was almost like a dream come true.

she was about to re-read the note to make sure she wasn’t dreaming until she heard the lock on his front door click. she scrambled to put the crumpled up piece of paper back into the book where she found it, effectively slipping it in and standing up straight just in time as he entered the door.

“hey, honey.” he says with a small smile, kicking off his shoes. he wore his police uniform still, all pristine in pale blue and navy. she swallowed and wiped at her eyes, “hey.” she shuffles towards him and wraps her arms tightly around him.

he noticed the sniffling and the watery eyes, he craned his neck down to look at her face that was pressed into his chest, rubbing his hands up and down her back in a soothing gesture.

“are you okay? your eyes are red.” he says softly, his voice dripping with such concern it just almost made her heart melt in her chest. she nods and squeezes her arms tighter around him, “i’m okay. i just missed you.” she lies a little, she did miss him, but that wasn’t the true reason for the red eyes.

“okay, baby. it’s okay though, we’re gonna have a good weekend and your not even gonna think about work.” he says softly as he continues to rub her back up and down in a gentle gesture, smiling down at her with a soft grin. she nods, “okay, i’d like that.” she says with her cheek pressed against his chest, sniffling.

she knew she wouldn’t think about work, work was the furthest thing from her mind right now. the only thing on her mind was the picnic tomorrow and the note she had found.

she knew he was going to purpose, she wasn’t even trying to snoop, but now she knew. she loved him even more for it. if that was even possible.

the next day, the morning light would peak through the curtains of leon’s bedroom window. it casted both of them in a glow that was more then just a simple glow of the morning but a new day.

she loves waking up beside him, especially today when the promises of their future hang right over her head. a promise that he’s intending to keep.

she rolls over onto him as he lays on his back, giggling as she does. she presses a small kiss to his chest and then makes a path up to his collarbone, pressing a kiss to his neck. she felt herself growing more aroused by the minute.

she wasn’t a virgin, she had dated plenty of shitty guys before leon. and it isn’t like she didn’t not want to have sex with him, they just decided to wait until marriage. but now that she knew he was going to purpose today, she forgot all about that little promise she made with him.

she presses her lips to his jaw, hearing him mumble something sleepily as she grins against his skin. she leans towards his ear, “wake up.” she mumbles as she moves her hips to sit on his covered dick in his boxers beneath the sheets. her panty clad frame gently moving her hips lightly against his as she adjusts.

she feels him slightly move again, moving in his sleep so she moves her hips more firmly on him again, feeling him grow harder against the fabric that separated them. he mumbles something and she pulls her face out of his neck, bracing her palms flat on his chest.

he slowly opens his blue eyes to meet hers, his dirty blonde hair messily on the pillow. she smiles down at him with a small grin, “morning sleeping beauty.” she chuckles as she leans down to his face and presses a kiss to his lips.

his half-asleep frame is still waking up and trying to wrap his mind around everything. “what are you doing?” he chuckles with a lazy opening and closing of his blue eyes.

“what does it look like im doing?” she says with a small smirk, moving her hips again. he had no idea where this was coming from, they had agreed to wait until marriage and now…

she was straddling his waist, her wet core on top of his morning wood, there were the barriers between them but still, he could feel everything. she tilts her head innocently at him, his blue eyes looking up at her, “why are you so…? what’s gotten into you?” he says with a small furrow of his brows as he leans up on the bed, his elbows propped up behind him.

she bites her lip and looks at him, “why am i what?” she says as she bats her eyelashes at him, feigning innocence. he struggles and takes a shaky breath, “why are you like…all over me? like, we didn’t…i thought you wanted to wait.” he manages to get out with another shaky inhale.

she sighs and rubs her palms over his chest, “i want you, i’ve waited long enough. married or not, i want you.” she says with a small look, letting his blue eyes latch onto hers. she needed him to know she was serious, that this mattered.

she knew he was going to purpose soon anyways, so what was the big deal? that’s what she thought anyways. she didn’t see it as this huge thing, it would be their first time together. but…she was ready.

“unless…your not?” she says with a small sigh as she looks down at him, her palms pressed flat on his bare chest as she looked down at him. he shook his head so fast, his hair flopping as he did, “no, i want it.” he replies as he looks up into her eyes.

“anything that you want from me, i wanna be able to give it to you. even this.” she hears him say as his blue eyes never stray from his gaze on her. she smiles widely and sniffles, “god, i love you.” she whispers as she leans down and presses a kiss to his lips.

it starts slow, his hands holding onto her waist as the kiss grows more intense and passionate. her hips moving against his erection. she doesn’t fear it now, not when she knows what will happen.

not when she can trust him. she knows he’s different, he’s not like the others. she wants to give him all of her, every single part. she wants to give him marriage, her soul, her body. she wants him to have it all.

so as the kisses and the touches escalate, she feels herself trusting in him, letting his love consume her body and mind in a way she had never known before. his kisses were like rain, falling on her skin and soaking there. his touch was like fire, spreading over her body.

it was beautiful, she couldn’t wait to have him with her forever.

the picnic was beautiful.

leon, really knew how to make her forget about her shitty work week. whether it be a picnic, their first time having sex together earlier that morning, or the proposal that has yet to happen.

he really outdid himself. just like he promised, he had cooked and packed a lunch for them by a small pond in a park. it was about a 20 minute drive from his place, how she never knew it was there, she had no idea.

it was beautiful, some swans were in the pond swimming around with their babies, made her smile and think of how leon had made this so perfect without even trying. he spread out a blanket for them, sitting the food down in the picnic basket.

she brushes her hands over her purple sundress, looking at him as he sat down and began to spread out the food for them. “wow, baby. you really thought of everything didn’t you?” she chuckles as she sits down next to him on the picnic blanket.

“of course, anything for my girl.” he says with a sweet smile in her direction as he gets wine out of the basket and two glasses. my girl…jesus, if he’s trying to make me melt, it’s working. she thinks as she watches him uncork the wine bottle, and pour them both red wine into the glasses.

“i know, you spoil me, leon. but still…” she trails off as she looks over at him, she reaches over the blanket and grabs onto his hand. she watches as the subtle breeze blows his dirty blonde hair over his blue eyes and his forehead.

he rolls his eyes playfully and scoots closer to her on the blanket, squeezing her hand back. “don’t argue with me. it’s in your best interest.” he says with a small lopsided smirk as he hands her one of the glasses of wine. she accepts and smiles back at him, sipping on the wine in her free hand.

“fine. i won’t.” she says with a small roll of her eyes, grinning at him as she swallowed the wine. letting it slide down her throat. they stayed in silence for a while, just enjoying the sounds of nature, the breeze that blowed softly and made the leaves rustle in the trees above them.

she let him dote on her a little more, still feeling that anxious bubbling in her stomach that had been occurring since last night. the note, the proposal that had yet to happen. she felt her body get amped up and she was trying not to give her hopes up.

she sipped on her wine, looking over at him as he stared off into the pond a little ways in front of them. she admired him like this, when he wasn’t looking at her. he was deep in thought, in his head and she could almost see the gears turning in his mind.

“thank you, leon.” she says as she snaps out of her daze of staring at him. she didn’t think she could ever not want to stare, admire him like a piece of art in a museum. he lets his head turn her way, looking directly at her, a gentle smile on his boyish features.

“no need to thank me. i wanted to do something special for you.” he says as he reaches across the blanket and rubs his hand over her bare knee. she nods and swallows more nerves, “i don’t need to thank you, but im going to anyways.” she giggles.

he just shakes his head with a teasing grin on his face, he doesn’t mind this. sitting here with her and knowing where it’s going. he almost feels like this can’t be real, sitting here with her. the weather’s perfect and this day is even better.

they continue to just sit together on the picnic blanket, eating and sipping on their wine. they just talk and snuggle up next to each other on the blanket.

eventually the sun starts to set, painting the sky in a beautiful pink and red hue. it almost looks like a painting and she watches it with almost admiration. he knows this is the time, the ring in his pocket burning a hole through his jeans.

she keeps her gaze trained on the sky, not even noticing that he’s staring at her with admiration. he swallows his fears, his nerves and everything that could potentially stop him from doing this.

“your so beautiful, you know that?” he starts as he looks over her features. her gaze only temporarily looking over at him, a blush coating her cheeks. this isn’t how he had planned it, but he’s gonna do this differently.

“of course you know that, i tell you all the time how amazing, beautiful and sweet you are. even to people who don’t deserve your kindness.” he says as his blue eyes stay trained on her, she smiles and bites her lip in bashfulness.

she knows something is happening, but she lets it happen. she doesn’t care…not if it’s a promise to make her happy for the rest of their lives.

“your the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he continues as he looks at her, turning his body a little towards her on the picnic blanket. the ring feels like an anchor in his pocket, keeping him tethered to the moment here with her.

“and i don’t think i’ll ever find anyone better then you, that’s honesty. your the best that’s ever going to happen to me.” he says as he looks deep into her eyes, her eyes blinking back at him as she feels her heart start to pound in her ribcage.

“and i would be a fucking fool if i went on another two years and didn’t show you how much you mean to me.” he says as he fists the ring in his pocket. she feels her heart swell and her eyes water. the smile spreading on her face is the rare kind.

“what are you…?” she says with a small look of disbelief on her face, her smile widening and the crystal of her eyes staring back at him.

he smiles with a small blink of his blue eyes that are now crystallizing over as well, he pulls his palm out of his pocket, opening it up between them to brandish a engagement ring.

she blinks her tears away, raising a hand over her mouth, trying to somewhat hide her shock. “leon…” she looks between the ring in his palm and then his eyes. this was much better then what was written on that crumpled sheet of paper.

“i love you so fucking much, i would do anything for you, to you and with you. only if you’ll let me, forever. please marry me. let me love you forever, let me wake up to you every morning. it would be the greatest honor i could ever have.” he says as he gestures the ring in his outstretched palm.

he looks at her with hopeful and love filled eyes as he does this. she doesn’t even have words, she expected it. but not like this…

this was definitely better.

and he was the love of her life, she couldn’t say no to him, not in a million years. she couldn’t dream of turning him down. of declining his proposal because he’s her happiness. even from two years ago when they met to now…

her body and mind want him the same, love him the same. she knows it will never change. not when it comes to him and just everything he does for her.

“yes…” she says as she sniffles away tears, feeling the breeze in the park billow her hair. the swans swimming idly in the pond in front of them. the sun setting in a beautiful sunset that paints the sky. he blinks at her, he doesn’t think he heard her right for a second.

“did you say…?” she laughs and looks at him, “i said yes. i’ll marry you.” she says as she feels more tears leak down her flushed cheeks. he smiles widely and grabs her hand shakily, his face coated in tears of happiness too.

he slips the ring onto her ring finger and strokes his thumb over her knuckles. he slides his free hand up to cup her jaw, rubbing the tears that slid from her eyes. “oh god, i love you.” he says in a trance as he looks at her.

“i love you too.” she says back to him, catching him in his trance of looking at her. she feels the ring on her ring finger, making its home there. she feels like she’s on cloud nine right now. he pulls her face towards him and presses a kiss to her lips.

she returns it and kisses him back, her hand, now ring clad, holds onto his face as she deepens the kiss. she doesn’t think she could ever be happier then she was right now.

in this moment with him. not a thing matters and her mind and body are full of him. she feels so consumed by him and his love that she can’t even explain it.

she’ll be wrapped in him forever and she can’t bring herself to care if she is. because at least she’s happy, happy and in love.

forever.

leons letter:

taglist: @heartsforvin

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[cosmoeticss]

Haven’t I Loved You Well? | Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!Reader (part two)

my masterlist

Words: 2.8K 

Warnings: (18+ minors dni) angst, mentions of death, violence, marital problems

Notes: I’m so manic rn I can’t even decide if I like how the end of this turned out. I want to wrap this up but I don’t think I know how to continue this without making it a full fledged fic, and I don’t have the mental capacity to do another one of those right now. Anywho, I hope you enjoy this. I love you guys. Also I’m sorry there’s no seggsiness, mom and dad are fighting, their grandpa/father just died.

Part Two of Haven’t I Been Good to You?

You stirred awake in the early hours to find the bed next to you empty and the faint sound of toddlers playing. Your hand smoothed over Aemond's side of the bed, your fingertips meeting cold and empty sheets. Your husband had been gone long before you had awakened. A deep sigh erupted in your lungs as you stretched your limbs, uncovering yourself and rising from the bed. Bare feet hit the cool stone floors as you reached for your silk, Velaryon Blue robe, slipping it over your thin white night shift and finding your woolen slippers under the bed.

A bright smile split your lips at the sound of your son's laughter in the adjoining chambers. You practically skipped to the sitting area, pulling the doors open to find the two silver haired boys playing with your handmaiden. When they finally spotted you, they jumped up with glee, running to tackle you.

"Mama!" Your youngest son, named Laenor after your father, had jumped into your embrace and twisted his arms around your neck. Aemon, your eldest boy, hugged your knees tightly.

"Good morning, sweet boys," you beamed, bending to place a soft kiss on little Aemon’s hairline. "How long have you been up? You should have woken me earlier."

"They've only just stirred, Princess." Brynna, your chambermaid, assured you softly. "I thought you could use rest in your condition."

"Mama," Aemon grabbed your hand in excitement. "We're playing Conqueror again! Come play with us."

You smiled sadly at his request. "I'm afraid it shall have to wait, my love," you squeezed the boy's fingers in comfort. "Your father and I have a council meeting this morning, and I must dress."

"Princess, I’ve been asked to deliver the message that all your engagements have been canceled for the day,” Brynna interrupted. “The Queen has asked that everyone stay in their chambers.”

Your brow furrowed in confusion. “Well, where is my husband then?”

“I was told to inform you that the Prince has urgent matters to attend to and will return when he has finished.”

Something static is evident in the air, raising suspicion deep in your bones. You cling to any ounce of calm you have in you, as not to distress the children, breathing slowly. A forced smile reaches your lips, and you hope your sweet sons are none the wiser as you address them. “Why don’t you boys keep playing with Brynna, and Mama will join you after I’m done talking to Ser Arryk, alright?”

The boys do as they’re told happily, and you make your way to the door of your chambers, attempting to open it to no avail. Panic shoots through you as you pull at it again, bringing your shaky knuckles to wrap against the hard wooden door. “Ser Arryk?” you call out, and you’re met with a moment of silence before the whirring of the lock before the door cracks open.

It’s not the familiar face of Ser Arryk Cargyll you’re met with, but a man a bit shorter and stockier, with dark black hair and hard features. “Princess,” He bows his head to you. “The Queen has requested that everyone remain in their chambers until further notice.” “So I’ve been told,” you affirm, confusion written all over your face. “Who are you? Where is Ser Arryk?”

“I am Ser Gyles Belgrave, your highness,” he says stiffly. “Ser Arryk had very urgent matters to attend to, I have been tasked with guarding your apartments in his stead.”

Your hold in the groan of annoyance that threatens to unleash itself. “Well, everyone just has very urgent matters to attend to today, haven’t they?

“It appears so, Princess,” his tone is flat and unwavering as he addresses you. 

“Forgive my unusual lack of patience on this morn’, Ser Gyles,” you sigh, closing your eyes as you briefly regain any semblance of composure you can manage. “Might you take me to see the Queen to find out what in the Seven Hells is going on, or at the very least to my husband.”

“I’m afraid I cannot do that, Princess.”

You furrow your brow. “Yes, you can. I’m a Princess of the Realm in direct line for the Iron Throne, and I have – very politely might I add – asked you to escort me to Queen Alicent at once.”

“I’m sorry, Princess,” he urges. “It is a direct order from the Queen that you stay here.”

You huff out in frustration, your fingers tightening on the handle of the door until your knuckles turn white. “Thank you, Ser Gyles,” you force the corners of your lips to curl into a synthetic smile. “You’ve been ever so helpful.” And with that you slam the door shut, pressing your forehead to the wood and breathing deeply to calm your nerves and trying to quiet your own nagging voice hissing in the back of your mind.

It’s happening. 

The King was in good spirits yesterday. He addressed the courts just last night, and was conscious and present all throughout dinner. He is fine. We have time.

Time is up.

Your mother and the Queen had reconciled their differences, toasted in each other's honor, embraced before the night had ended. Everything would be fine.

There will be no reconciling. Spool of green, spool of black. The cuts run too deep, the wounds have festered. 

Where is Aemond?

Not even your love can save the noble House of the Dragon now.

“Mama!” you snap out of your panic at the sound of your son's beckoning, your chest heaving in time with your labored breath.

“Coming, my loves,” you call, swallowing the feeling of dread whirring deep in your chest, and putting on a brave façade as you face your sons.

It feels, for a moment, as if time freezes when your husband finally returns to your marital chambers that evening, his good eye heavy with empathy and guilt. You shoot up in your chair, the boys both looking up from playing with their model dragon figurines on the floor to their father. He doesn’t have to say a word. The truth you’ve been denying yourself since they locked you away is written clearly on his face.

“Kepa!” The boys cry out as they run to jump into his arms, their father’s entrance being the most exciting event of the day.

“My little princes,” he laughs, embracing them, the wear of the day's trials is hidden just underneath the surface of his smile. You wonder to yourself how many lives Aemond has lived today, what he had seen, what he had done.

Slouching back in your chair, you slide a hand over the swell of your stomach, the other coming to pinch the bridge of your nose. 

Aemond tends to the children, answering their miles of questions and listening to their detailed accounts of make believe lands they’ve visited and play pretend battles they’ve fought during the day since they’d been confined inside. Aemond takes the explosion of excitement from your boys steadily, with a kind of patience he didn’t have for many others. The boys adore him. You adore him more than anything, and here you sat picking apart your husbands every move, trying to determine whether he was friend or foe.

The hour is late when Aemond finally gets the boys settled. You had not spoken a word to him, not touched him since he came back. You didn’t join in as he read the boys a bedtime story. You didn’t assist him as he carried their sleeping figures to their beds one by one. You hadn’t moved from your spot in the lounge chair since. You weren’t even sure you were real until Aemond was kneeling before you, his large hands engulfing yours as he pressed delicate, apologetic kisses to your palms, not yet daring to find the courage to meet your gaze.

You hold back the tears pricking at your eyes, swallowing the bile rising in the back of your throat. “Tell me the truth of it, Aemond,” you manage, your voice pained and hushed.

He finally meets your hollow stare. “My love, please—“ his voice is soft and desperate as his lips work their way to the skin of your wrists. 

“—I just need to hear you say it,” you press, words wobbling from the threat of your unshed tears. “Tell me what news of the King.”

He clasps your hands tightly in his, clinging to them like a prayer as he hangs his head low before you. “The King is dead,” he rasps the words, silence filling the room in their stead. A strangled, guttural gasp forces its way through your lips, your eyes fluttering shut as hot tears finally fall freely. In truth you hadn’t expected to be so shocked when news came of the King’s passing. Despite his faults, you loved your grandsire deeply, and though this day had long been lingering just out of sight, you never expected it to happen so suddenly. This felt wrong.

“Say it,” you snap, trying desperately not to fall apart before him. He didn’t have to speak it, you knew in your heart what was coming next.

“My father declared to mother on his deathbed, that it is Aegon who will inherit–”

You scramble to twist out of his grasp before he can even finish his sentence, but he clings to you, holding you in place and forcing you to look at him. “No–”

“-- Aegon will be crowned before the masses tomorrow morning.”

You try your best to wriggle from his torturous warmth, grunting and hitting his chest as you attempt to push him away from you with all your might. “How can you let them do this?” you wail. “You’re liars! Traitors to the Crown!” “My love, please,” Aemond begs as you cry out. “You must understand–”

“--I must understand?” She barks a humorless laugh, silver hair clinging to her tear stained cheeks. “What is it that I am to understand? That you are no better than the rest of them? A liar? A traitor to our house and the realm? This is treason! Don’t you understand the gravity of this?”

“It was the will of the King,” he proclaimed, as you gave up your fighting out of pure exhaustion. “With his dying breath, this is the succession he wished for. We have no choice in the matter.”

“You expect me to believe that after twenty years of upholding and defending my mothers claim, the King relinquished the throne to your drunken, depraved, imbecile brother moments before his death with no one around to hear but your power hungry mother?” you snipe, face hardened with distaste. “I at least thought you to be a sensible man, husband.”

Aemond catches you off guard when he captures your jaw in his hand forcefully. “You will watch your tongue, wife,”  he snarls. 

You had seen that familiar glint of anger in Aemond’s eyes many a time, you were no stranger to his fire. He was a man with a quick temper, it often didn’t take much for him to unleash the fury of the dragon. You just never thought in all your years he’d direct it towards you. 

You attempt a disinterested laugh, but it comes out as more of a whimper, your eye’s glistening as they fan over his features in disbelief. “Is this what we are to become?” you whisper pitifully. “Is it true what they say, that I am wife to a cruel man? A man who has now fashioned himself a traitor. Perhaps I do not know you at all.”

His eyes flutter shut with shame, his stinging grip softening as he drops his forehead to meet yours, pulling you closer until you're practically on his lap. You don’t fight him this time, exerting your strength proving to be fruitless. “You are married to a man who loves you. A man who has been fighting all his life to protect you. You know me, you are the only person alive who truly knows me, and I love you with everything that I can give,” he tries, squeezing his eye shut tightly as he forces his next words out. “But I have a duty to my family–”

“I am your family,” you plead, taking his face in your hands. “Our sons are your family. That is your duty. What do you think they will do to us when war ensues?”

“I will keep you safe,” he promises, pulling back to hold your gaze. His expression is desperate, for what you don’t know. Forgiveness? Submission? Blind Devotion? In your fury you could not muster any of it. “Anyone who dare harm you or our children is a fool.”

“You are the fool for thinking that you could protect us from what is to come,” you interject, pressing your lips together. “No one wins this war, and there will be war, Aemond. “Everyone knows what I am,” you don’t say the word itself, but you can see he understands. Its venom is hissed towards you at every turn you take. Aemond holds his tongue as you brush his hair back over his shoulders, smoothing down the disheveled strands as you choke out the words, trying despairingly to get through to him. “It is another doing that is not my own, one that I have suffered for everyday of my life. If this is where your loyalties will lie, husband, it is another price that I must pay.”

“That is where your loyalties lie? You would crown the woman who placed that cloak of shame upon you,” he reasons.

“As opposed to staying with the man who is practically handing his wife and children to the executioner himself?”

He whispers your name, only your name, softly and stoically like a prayer, and you continue your pleading. His face is held in between your hands, your lips peppering persuading kisses across his velvet skin.

“Please,” you echo over and over. “Don’t do this. You promised.” 

Aemond seems to snap out of your trance quite suddenly, pulling himself far enough away so that your prodding halts. His gaze lifts to yours, slower and more certain than before. Your heart clenches in your chest as he takes your wrists in his hands, pulling them away from his jaw.

Aemond’s tongue darts out to wet his lips. “The decision is final,” he clears his throat, rising from the floor and leaving you behind on the cold stone below. “I will tell the boys, or at least Aemon, he is old enough to understand.”

Your hands fall to your lap as you sink further to the floor in defeat. “He is six,” you grumble.

“He will be a man grown sooner than late,” his voice is distant and nearly unrecognizable. “He is old enough to stand by our side in the Dragon Pit tomorrow in support of his uncle, and he will, as well as his mother.” 

“I will never bend the knee to that man,” you hiss, hot tears caking your rosy cheeks. “I will not stand by as he is crowned.”

“You will come freely or there will be consequences,” Aemond commands. “Not only for us, for the children.”

“Let them see the consequences,” you stand, legs wobbling as you force yourself upright. “Let them see how quickly their father folded before a usurper, let them understand how thinly his loyalty runs. Then they shall know who to blame when the sky falls down upon us.” 

Before your husband can interject, you push past him, fleeing to your shared chambers and slamming the heavy door behind you as hard as you could. The sound of it echoes heavily through the room, you can feel it in your bones and it rattles your soul. You spin on your heel, gaze softening as you eye the wall between you and the man you love – the wall you’ve just put there. You stifle a cry, it feels final, it feels like the entire Keep is crumbling from beneath you. 

Your mind and your senses are at war as you approach the door slowly, trying with everything in you to push down the desire to be held by him, to forgive him, to do anything he desires just so that you might be together. 

Your loyalty is stronger than your yearning to be his and his alone. Your palms, aching for contact, find their solace against the surface of the door. It’s cold, harsh, and stiff, but if you close your eyes and concentrate you can pretend it's his soft, burning skin pulsating under the tips of your fingers. If you focus on nothing else you can remember what it feels like to be enveloped in his arms, you can almost smell the smoke on him, almost hear his voice lulling you to sleep, almost taste his perfect lips against yours. 

In your anguish, you can’t fathom that his heart is aching on the other side as well, and you don’t feel his palms pressed against the other side of the door begging to be let back in.

[ask-irisstar]

A fluffy story where reader and Sanji just have an off day, and during that off day they decide to bath together. No seggsy stuffies just warm calm bath story. Where they hold each others embrace and grow a deeper connection.

Bubble Bath

A/N: AAHHHH SO MANY SANJI ASKS!!!! *breathes* Okay, I'm calm, hope you guys enjoy this! Special thanks to @pink-haired-anime-men for helping me write this!

Notes: Sanji x GN reader, Fluff, SFW, Sanji and reader bathe together

A day off for Sanji is rare. Especially since he cooks 24/7 for his hungry captain and crew and fight off Luffy who tries to steal from the fridge. Currently, everyone is exploring the island. Franky, Sanji and you are left on the ship. You were sunbathing on deck while Franky is working on the Sunny's repairs. Sanji bursts out the kitchen, carrying a tray of an array of sweet treats for you to choose from.

"Something sweet, for someone sweet?" He offers, holding out the tray towards you.

You smile up at him. Instead of taking the sweet treat you reached for Sanji's blonde hair and ruffled it, making it messy as if he just woke up with bad bed hair.

"Haha, look at your cute hair!" You giggled as he blushed. He turned away to hide his embarrassed face as you took a cupcake off the tray on Sanji's hand.

"You know me so well.." You said with a gentle tone as you took a bite of the cupcake. You didn't admit it, but you did miss him. It's been so long since you've hung out with him. You missed his warmth, his amazing cuddles and his soft hands refined by all the cooking he's done.

"I miss you babe, its been so long since we hung out properly...." He said as if he was reading your mind.

You blushed as you both reminisced about the times you had together. It's true. It's been awhile since you guys hung out. Even if guys did, someone will always interrupt. Like Luffy begging for food or Zoro asking for more sake. As you took a bite out of the cupcake, you noticed flour is all over Sanji. The sight was comical and also... Cute.

"Sanji, you have flour in your hair..." You say, brushing his hair again.

"Ah... I knew that... I'm taking a bath later anyway..." He says, smoothing down his messy hair.

Suddenly, an idea popped in your brain.

"Hey Sanji... Wanna bathe together?" You ask him, wagging your eyebrows.

Sanji eyes widened, a smirk playing on his lips. "Well mon amour, since you asked so nicely..."

______________________________________________________________

In the bathroom, Sanji has a towel wrapped around his waist as he fills the bath tub with warm water. You had your back facing him as you undress. It's been awhile since you saw each other naked, so it's a bit of an embarrassment. However, the moment you both settled into the bath, all the tension dispersed. You both settled into the bath and you lean against Sanji's only slightly but muscular frame. You felt the water enveloping your body, washing off all the dirt and grim of yourselves.

"This is nice..." You heard him say, feeling his body slowly sink deeper into the water.

You giggled and pushed him all the way down, soaking his hair. He screamed and pulled you down with him, causing you to giggle. When you both resurface, Sanji is glaring at you.

"Idiot, ne fais pas ça !" He yelled, brushing his bangs out of his face, revealing both his eyes.

Mesmerized by the beauty in his eyes, you stop giggling. Damn, were his blue eyes attractive.

"Sanji... Your eyes are so pretty..." You say, shifting on your boyfriend's lap to get a better look at his eyes.

Sani blushed, "Stop it, mon amour... You know how I feel about you staring..." He says, turning you back around to wash your hair.

The feeling of his fingers scratching your scalp soothingly as he applies the shampoo makes your eyes droop. You only snap back awake when Sanji shileded your eyes.

"Close them mon chéri..." He instructed as he poured some water over your eyes, washing off the soap.

You relax into his touch as he scrubs you clean. In return, you wash him the same way he did to you, paying close attention to his sensitive areas. When you both are clean, neither Sanji or you suggested on getting out of the bath. It feels too god damn cozy in the warm bath.

However, you both know you need to get out before the crew comes back. You dries yourselves off and Sanji even allowed you to wear on of his sweaters.

______________________________________________________________

And that's a wrap... Hope ya'll enjoy this... Current inox: 3 Sanji asks and 1 Luffy.... Please request more characters for me to write! I'm keeping up!!

[pokechbi]

Hi! i love your post so much🫶 i was wondering if you could make a head canon on how 141 and konig would comfort their plus size SO if they were feeling self-conscious?

only if you’re up to it!!

Keep writing..it’s so good:))

Hi Anon! TYSM for the ask <3 I love to hear that you enjoy my writing :') makes me feel all giddy hehe :)) This was such a good request, I actually would like to make it a bit longer! I've got so many ideas for this <3 LMK if you want me to add the rest of the team ;) I hope this one met your expectations :)

In Your Skin

TF141 & Konig comfort plus size (fem) reader

NSFW, MDNI !!! (yk i had to add some seggsy time, what can i say)

CW: Body image issues

Fem anatomy used

WC: 1.5K

As always, enjoy loves!

Simon Ghost Riley

Will start off gently comforting you, caressing your body and leaving kisses & hickies on every inch of you. He'll make you keep eye contact as he does this, squeezing and worshipping every single part of you. He'll also make you repeat after him, slurring out which parts of you he adores most and why.

"I love your plump little belly, wanna know why?" He'll say, sloppily kissing you up and down, landing on your underbelly, biting the sensitive flesh like it's his last meal. "Gotta have something to hold onto while I'm fuckin' 'ya, right love?"

"God, you know how I adore those thick fuckin' hips and ass of yours. How they jiggle against my cock while I pound that wet little cunt between your legs." He'll say, leaving bite marks all over your hips.

"My my, and look at those sweet, thick thighs. How can I not love 'em. How they wrap around my head as I lick your sweet pussy out. I'd die happily between those thighs."

And when he's finished making you repeat every single word, he'll fuck you so good that you forget your own name, as punishment for daring to insult what's his.

John Soap MacTavish

Soap is such a gentle lover. After all, he's just a big softie for you. When you talk bad about your weight, his heart can't help but break and send a jolt of pain through his core. He knew there wasn't much he can do besides show you just how goddamn beautiful you were.

"Oh, lass. That's not true. And if anyone has anything different to say, I'll disembowel them. How's that sound, love" His Scottish accent was enough to lift your spirits, taking you out of the funk that had been plaguing your mind about your body. He won't stop until you're smiling, even if he has to ruthlessly tickle you until you piss yourself.

He'll then carry you to the bed as if you weighed nothing, slowly undressing you and worshipping every inch of skin on your body. He'll make you keep your hands on him, slurring out things he adored about your curvy body. He could be rough when he wanted to, but when you were like this, he wanted nothing more than to handle you like a flower and nourish your spirits.

At times like this, he couldn't care less for pleasuring himself. Sure, your body made him want to empty his balls on every part of you, but he prioritized your pleasure when it came down to it. He knows you're too shy to ask, so he'll do any and everything he can think of that would make you feel good.

If you ever refuse his lovings, he'll keep pressing and do the things that make you weak in the knees until you accept. Your self consciousness never bypassed him, and he would never think to leave you alone when you were like this. He'll make you sit in front of him, naked, and force you to say everything you love about yourself and why. And God forbid you dare to refuse, he'll bend you over his knee and spank you until you do it.

"Good puppy. That wasn't so hard now, was it?"

Captain John Price

Price has a zero-tolerance policy for you saying anything remotely self-deprecative. When you start to talk about hating your body, he'll stop it right in it's tracks and put you in your place. He was usually a laid back kind of man, but you were his. And God help anyone who disrespected what belonged to him.

Price would do whatever he could to make you feel confident again, and that included submitting to you completely. He'd order you the sexiest lingerie he could find, something dark, powerful. He wanted you to feel like the goddess you were, even if it meant letting you do what you pleased to him while he sat back and enjoyed it.

He'll set aside a night off from his duties to make his way to you, letting you tie him up while you did whatever it is that made you happy. He let you dominate him, edge him, wrapping himself around your finger as you embraced your femininity.

And once you were yourself again, completely confident in your body once more, he'll put you back in your place as his woman. He'll eat your pussy for nearly an hour, overstimulating you to the point of tears. He'll bend you over and fuck you afterwards, not giving you a chance to breathe as he pounds into your very core. And once he was done fucking you, he'll make you get on your knees and fuck your face until you were amounted to nothing but a slobbering, crying, cum drunk overstimulated mess under him.

And during your aftercare, he'll reassure you that you're his, and he'll never get it up for anyone else but you. He'll caress you, make you embrace every part of yourself. He'll touch you gently, making sure you knew that you were his very own goddess.

Kyle Gaz Garrick

The first time he had ever learned about your self-image issues, his jaw hung open in shock. This man had seen some things on the battlefield, but hearing you speak such untrue things about yourself took the cake. He spent some time thinking about how to approach the situation, not knowing how to handle you at such a fragile time.

So he did the only thing he knew would never fail him. He took you by the jaw, staring into your eyes as you cried out against his face.

"Kyle! You're hurting me!" You whine, the lie rolling off your tongue. You liked it, and he knew you did. You liked when he roughed you up, sending a familiar wetness to accumulate between your thighs. He'll push you around, your back up against the wall as he slipped his hand under your clothes. He breathed heavily as he lifted you up, grabbing at your body and molding your flesh to his hand.

"You hate your body so much you'll cry, huh? Apologize, or I'll fuck you so deep and so hard, you'll have something to cry about." He demanded. You nodded your head, slurring out apologies, your voice shaky with everything ranging from fear to arousal.

Once he felt that you were regretful about your words to yourself, he'll take a more gentler approach, whispering the things he loved about you and why. He could do this for hours, so he does. He'll lull you into a deep relaxation as he runs his hands all over your body, playfully pinching you and tickling you.

He'll start from the hairs on your head, and ending at the color of your cute, painted toes, leaving gentle kisses in his wake. You found yourself becoming more confident in yourself, slowly learning to love every part of you as much as he did.

Konig

There was no getting past Konig when you felt that familiar bubbling of body image issues in your head. You hinted at it slightly, trying to fish compliments from him. He instantly knew what you were doing, since he wasn't far behind you. He'd dealt with hating himself before, specifically his damning size. So he knew exactly what you meant when you were hinting at these things.

He'd waste no time in throwing you over his shoulder, spanking your ass as he carried you to whatever flat surface he could bend you over. You could say plenty things about yourself, but nothing struck a nerve in him more than when you spoke badly about your body, or weight. He knew what it was like to hate himself, to avoid mirrors and eye contact in hopes he could turn himself invisible to the world.

"I'm not going to sit back and listen to this, liebe" He says frustrated, running his hands along your body, kneeling in front of you and kissing your skin.

He'll do anything in his power to make you feel good again. And that included staying on his knees in front of you, begging you to love yourself again. When he did this, you couldn't help but tear up at the sight. The biggest man you'd ever seen, on his knees on the brink of tears because you called yourself bad names.

You'd caress his head in your arms, promising him to love yourself, to let go of those toxic thoughts that kept you from being your best self. And after he'd determine your words truthful and genuine, he'd stay on his knees, throwing your leg over his shoulder. He'll take his frustration out on your cunt, spitting and slapping and sucking all he can, making you cum and squirt and cry so many times, you forget why you were crying in the first place.

[stayinhellevator]

Shades Of Love

Where you thought love was red but it was golden

Pairing: S.Coups x gn!Reader//Wonwoo x gn!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst//S2L, L2E

Word Count: 1922

Warning: Mentions of seggsy times(not explicit)

Playlist: Red and Daylight ~ Taylor Swift

"Order 895 is ready. Please collect it."

You could hear your own voice booming in the buzzed cafeteria followed which a sturdy familiar young man walked towards the counter, flashing you his infamous gummy dimpled smile.

"Thank you! Now that I've had the best coffee that there is, my day would be better."

You shook your head at his antics and prepared his receipt as you tried to hide the smile that threatened to come out in order to not encourage his tactics. He did this every single day, coming to the cafe you worked at without fail with his regular order of an americano and melon bread and asked you out, also without fail.

However, you weren't quite ready to date and certainly not this handsome overly rich guy. He was so damn charming that nobody could ignore him, no matter how hard they tried to resist him, to you he seemed like a god damn celebrity and you, were just you. A broke final year college student, with big dreams, struggling with multiple part time jobs but that's what happens when your parents couldn't care any less about your existence. You had somehow survived school under their control and now you were almost done with your college all on your own and you were very proud of yourself. You had so much on your plate that you couldn't really prioritise a relationship in your life much less the attention that'd come upon you, with a guy like him.

"So are you free tonight? Tomorrow? Overmorrow?"

But he was also good at breaking your resolve; especially when he looked at you with that adorable puppy face and an even cuter pout on those luscious lips of his. And just like that, after six months of resistance, you had cracked.

"Real smooth Seungcheol, real smooth. I've to give this to you."

And you watched as his eyes glowed with a playfulness and he smirked at you in victory but you couldn't find it in yourself to dismiss his smugness.

Loving Choi Seungcheol was red.

He made you see the world through rose tinted glasses; everything that was so plain and cynical previously, now seemed bright and meaningful. You had something to look forward to every single day you woke up.

You'd think as time gradually passed, you'd come out of the honeymoon phase of your relationship but no Seungcheol made you feel special everyday, as if he was still courting you. He'd flirt with you, compliment you, voice out any and even a slight change in your look.

Bringing you your favourite flowers everyday without fail, taking you out on cute little dates frequently, going on a walk with his adorable fur baby like a happy family every evening and going as far as to pose like a trophy CEO boyfriend who'd pick you up from college every single day. Life with him seemed something straight like a rom-com fiction that you'd enjoy as a guilty pleasure.

He was passionate, if his constant pining of six months wasnt proof enough. He knew what he wanted and how to get it, be it opportunities, things or people. He did everything with all his heart, felt all kinds of emotions to their extreme. If he loved you, he'd travel to the ends of the world for you and God forbid if he hated you, he'd make sure he dragged you to that end and buried you in the deepest pits of hell. That's how passionate Choi Seungcheol is.

Seungcheol was also synonymous to a fiery lust that you'd never even imagined would burn through you. His kisses looked as hot as they felt when he imprinted them on every curve of your body. No matter how many times he took you, it never felt enough to either of you.

Because Seungcheol's emotions were limitless, so was his anger. Such was his anger that you'd rather die than be at the receiving end of his hostility. You first witnessed it when he found you getting uncomfortable with the gossip around your relationship in your campus and you'd swore to never explore that side of his passion.

In theory, it looked hot to see your boyfriend with such a burning determination in his eyes, jaws clenched in fury and knuckles fisted as if ready to get bloody if needed however, his violent rage sent chills down your spine because he really had no control over his actions when he went down that road.

And unfortunately for you, your worst fears had actually come true when the two of you ended up in an argument in your bedroom when you were supposed to be celebrating your fifth anniversary.

"Cheol! How did we end up here? It's not like you hadn't known of my plans for the future?"

You asked exasperatedly trying to make sense of this conversation. You had always wanted to own a cute cafe of your own with a bookshop above it and Cheol had always known about it. So how had he come from admiring your dreams to going against them?

"Because I thought you might change your plans baby. Today when mom asked me about our plans for future I realised we had never even discussed about our future. And now that I'm finally taking over the business I'd really like to settle down with you."

He tried to explain as best as he could but not enough to make sense to you. So was it his parents? You always knew they disapproved of your lifestyle and disinterest in fitting to theirs so did they say something to him?

"Cheol I never said that we can't get married. Of course I want to marry you and grow a family with you. However what I don't understand is, how does me wanting to establish a cafe of my own has anything to do with us getting married?"

You felt cornered the longer you watched his face that didn't soften even a bit with understanding and growing more determined every second.

"I'm more than capable enough to take care of you so what's the need to work?"

Your heart was pounding against your ribs so loud you swear you could hear it when you realised where this conversation was going. This wasn't your Cheol but Choi Seungcheol, the business man that his father was proud of.

"And you can still take care of me. I told you it's more about me fulfilling my dreams and not about survival or money anymore Cheol."

You could recognise the timidness in your wavering voice as you tried for the last time to save your relationship that was dangling by a single strand of thread.

"And how would it look that my wife is working in a cafe, even if you own it. People would think I don't provide well enough for you, there'd be too much gossip-"

He paused abruptly as he realised the look of growing horror on your face.

"So it's about your family's reputation and tabloids and not us anymore."

He shook his head desperately and scampered to his knees in front of you, trying to bring you back to him as you drifted away not just from him but even yourself.

"Baby please I didn't mean it that way."

He continued babbling but you couldn't hear him with the constant ringing in your ears.

You had always known it. So why did it still hurt?

Nearly three years later, as you stood outside your own cafe that you built with blood, sweat and tears literally, with pride all alone, Jeon Wonwoo came in your life with his warmth that thawed even the deepest corners of your heart, that seemed to be numb over the years of loneliness.

Wonwoo's compassion made everything seem easier than it actually was. Individually, you two were extremely reserved people who were neither interested in social interaction nor actively seeked it however together you two were like two perfectly fitting puzzle pieces. You remembered when you first met Wonwoo and were immediately intimidated by his persona however by the end of the day, it felt like you two had known each other since forever. And soon enough, it was to no one's surprise, you two were in a relationship.

Wonwoo was equally wise as he was warm; he knew how to make someone feel welcome but he also knew who actually deserved to be welcomed. He wasn't just your life partner, who knew how to handle you but also your business partner who provided his insights to your now joint venture. He owned the bookstore above your cafeteria that you two now jointly run. He was in every sense your missing brain cell.

Everything was easy with Wonwoo, even your arguments. You both tend to avoid arguing but when you do, he made it a point that you two never go to bed without resolving it and truly, it reassured you because you never want to be lonely, especially now that you've found him.

Wonwoo was thoroughly loyal and caring. He knew what you wanted before you could even acknowledge your emotions. You cherished every part of your life with him. Be it passing each other meaningful or sometimes even suggestive looks amidst the crowd of your cafe or snuggling up with each other with hands absent mindedly wandering on each other's skin with your favourite books in front of you.

Wonwoo was luxurious and not just materialistically. Every kiss that you placed on him felt like you touched the finest silks and likewise every kiss that he placed on you was as intoxicating as an expensive wine. It was sinful, addicting and never enough.

As regal as he was, he was also powerful, capable of making someone question their entire existence with just one look. His domineering aura also extended to a protectiveness over, which weirdly made you feel assured and safe but never suffocated.

As fine of a man as he was, of course he had a bit of a superiority complex but it never oppressed you or scared you. As long as you both were respectful of each other's boundaries and limits, everything was okay and that was an established fact. Besides, if he were a little too perfect, you think you'd be a little paranoid around him. So you guess you can bear a bit of his narcissism that his handsome face and compassionate heart deserved.

"Baby!? What are you thinking?"

A deep baritone that you could swear you felt vibrate deep within you brought you out of your musings as you faced your fiance who had joined you on the couch with two steaming cups of coffee.

"Thinking how lucky I am to have you in my life."

He smiled at you before wrapping an arm around your shoulders as he settled comfortably beside you in a snuggle.

"Hmm lucky you are. What would you have done without me?"

You give him a poker face before hitting him on the chest which made him laugh and hug you a little tighter.

"I love you so much!"

You placed a peck on his lips before smiling at him as you settled his glasses back up his nose.

"I love you more Woo!"

If he is the end result of all your struggles in every universe, then you'd gladly do it all over again.

You once believed love would be burning red but it was a shimmering gold for you and there's nothing you'd change about it.

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©️stayinhellevator23: All Rights Reserved

[joonieskinks]

drabble: “regret” - pjm

reader x cheater!jimin ft. jungkook | basically just pure angst | 1.5k

warnings: swearing, cheating, implication of seggsy times, substance abuse

a/n: if you want your heart to hurt?? I guess then enjoy?? lol

“Oh, sure! That would be so helpful...” You trail off, trying to balance your workbag, your keys and your phone in your hands while opening the door to your house with Jimin. 

“What was that?” Jungkook, your best friend, asks through the phone. 

“I said that would be helpful, yes, an intervention. Thank you for letting me know.” You bring the phone back up to your mouth, trying to communicate more effectively. You manage to plonk all your stuff down on the kitchen table before you really start to become aware of your surroundings and something unique catches your attention. It’s glistening, shiny reflection just catches the sun from the window across the room, hitting your eyes. 

“Okay, I’ll get to planning then?” Jungkook wonders into the phone, but neglects to say anything after, awaiting for a response from you.

“Y/N?” Jungkook tries catching your attention, but you’re utterly distracted by the pair of shiny, pink heels that are tucked under the curtain near your front door. 

“Yeah? Uh, hold on. Something more is going on. I’ll call you back in a bit, okay? Bye...” You mumble before hanging up. You could apologize later for being so blunt, but this was far more important as of right now. Jungkook would understand. 

You didn’t recognize those shoes. Sure, you would have totally missed it if it weren't for the almost neon hot pink shoes sticking out from the flushed out curtain. Everything else seemed to be in place, besides Jimin’s shoes.. One by the door and one on the stairs- Oh please, no. Not again. Instantly your worst fears creep into your head. You don’t want them to, but you can help but harbour those doubts for good reason.

“Shhhh! Shit- I didn’t realize what time it is, you should go.” You hear a deep voice whisper-yelling upstairs. Jimin. You could recognize him anywhere. But what you didn’t recognize was the one that returned it. 

“Jiminie!! You said we could have one more go!” The feminine voice playfully yelled, followed by more of Jimin shushing and then silence. 

Your body felt frozen in place and you briefly shut your eyes. 

No, please not again.

This was his one chance to redeem himself from the last time this happened. Yes, albeit it was just a kiss at a party a couple months ago. While he was drunk of course - but no excuse. You managed to take him to couple’s therapy and you felt comfortable to say you two were figuring it out. However, this time - you were very, very wrong. 

He had cried, begged and proved himself to be trustworthy again, he had desired your trust back so very much, or at least you thought so. Perhaps not if you’re already accepting the fact that he could be cheating again before even seeing him, hearing him out. But no, this isn’t just a kiss, no, its the whole shebang. You can hear it, it’s like the doubt was already planted in your heart long ago, and now was just when the flower finally budded.

You creeped your way up the stairs, listening to the movements on your bed, the creaks in the mattress, sheets being pulled and skin touching skin. You paused, inhaled, gripped the doorknob and mentally prepared yourself for the worst-

At the sight of their bodies intertwined, you could only stare blankly, waiting for them to notice you. It took a couple seconds, but it was the woman who noticed first. Gasping, she jumped out of his arms and tried to madly cover herself up with your sheets. Your shared bedsheets. With Jimin. You couldn’t even bring yourself to look at her, it was the man you once loved that you could only focus on. 

“Y/N?” Jimin blinked in disbelief, the shock slowly settling into his system as he stares at you. 

“I- I know what it looks like but-!” 

“Goodbye, Jimin. I’ll come collect my stuff when you’re gone at work.” You utter, before turning your back and shutting the door behind you. 

“Wait, Y/N! Please come back, we can fix this. I didn’t mean to, it just happened, she just happened! It doesn’t mean anything, come back here!” Jimin screams as he races to put on his underwear and catch you before you walk out the front door. Suddenly it looked as though he didn’t care about the woman he was fucking, your marriage or anything. Just controlling the narrative in this horrid state he’s in.

He wasn’t your love anymore. Surely not like this.

Jimin catches you as you gather your stuff and take a step out the door, his hand on your arm. At his touch, you instinctively move away and face him in surprise, but he holds on. The tears in your eyes finally fall, but you hold no expression, no indication of emotion. 

Disappointment? Expectation? Acceptance? He couldn’t read you anymore.

But you saw right through him - your day-drinking, manipulative, neglecting, but gorgeous cheating husband.

And of course he was drunk. Just like your best friend Jungkook said he’d be when he told you to go home and check on him. Apparently, he’s been leaving work early and often, Jungkook has watched him leave several nights in row from the office early. At first he wanted to give his once close friend the benefit of the doubt, but he just couldn’t stomach hiding anything from you. Turns out Jungkook was right, the day-drinking part anyway, you could smell the vodka on Jimin’s breath. It seems he’s relapsed, it’s been a problem for a while, and an intervention was going to be made. Too late for that now, you guess. I don’t think anyone expected it to go this far.

Both of you turn to look as you hear a truck pulling up to your house. Jungkook simply rolls down the window and patiently watches his two best friends from childhood. He has a hand on the door handle, ready to come to your aid if need be. Jungkook chose his side long ago. You, and now he was just making it clear. That much was obvious to Jimin.

But with how you left him on the phone, of course he was going to check on you, he’d never leave you defenceless, even if it was inconvenient for him. Jungkook just couldn’t do that to you, especially not after how he’s seen Jimin treat you so poorly over the years.

Jimin’s face hardens as he looks at Jungkook, waiting for you to run to. 

“Please. Y/N. Don’t leave me...” Jimin utters in pure desperation, tears still escaping his glazed over eyes, leaking down onto his cheeks. He doesn’t even look like the man you once adored so much, he’s lost so much of himself, and for what?

“You did this to yourself, Jimin. I don’t think I can forgive you this time.” You say as you try your hardest to remain composed in the face of his betrayal, all your vows going up in flames. You take his hand off your arm and walk away from your love, your husband, your marriage.

Maybe Jungkook was right. 

It should have been him you married all those years ago - and you think exactly so as he offers you the gentlest, most compassionate smile as you get into his truck. He knows exactly how you feel before you can even open your mouth. And so, you just drive away together, in peace.

Leaving Jimin, seething with jealous anger for his now ex best friend. 

She’s still mine, Jeon. She’s still mine. 

You watch.

[agirlwithtoomuchf-ingtime]

Disobedient - A Terminator x Reader Smut

[A/N]: Been dead for a while. Too many unfinished drafts to work on LMAO. I did that to myself, though.

Anyway- I'm not one to fall for robots or intelligent software. Wouldn't consider myself to be remotely near the category, but damn. This movie flipped a switch somewhere within me and now this story exists. Judge me all you want. I don't believe in God. (Please don't take that seriously lmfao I'm just fucking around)

LOL, hope some peeps enjoy this. I'm actually quite proud of it. I have some more works that are close to being finished, like a part two to the Mikael fic I have up (oh shiii-). Just a reminder that this is all purely imaginative and i wouldn't stand a chance against the characters I write about at all HAHA—

Warnings: heavy seggsy time (minors, dni.), oral (giving and receiving), angry sex undertones (if you squint. This is pretty tame tbh.)

Word Count: 5.6k (about average)

—

“Stay here.” The Terminator says firmly, pressing you against the white wall of the building. You’ve always found a way to get in the machine’s crosshairs when a fight breaks out and it’s clear he’s getting fed up with it. You hear Sarah yell out to John in the distance. There’s a frantic tone in her voice and you know immediately that you’re not staying wherever he’s placed you.

“Whatever.” You grumble, leaning against the wall. He releases his grip on you, synthetic blue eyes boring into yours before he looks away and stomps off. You hear him cock his shotgun as he turns the corner. You pull out your handgun and wait for the sound of his weapon firing. As soon as you hear it, you whip around the corner and shoot at the T-1000 steadily making its approach to the T-800. It reacts to your bullets, temporarily getting stunned as the metal explodes its poly-alloy skin. The T-800 immediately snaps his head in your direction, an angry scowl seeming to form on his face. 

You ignore him as you spot Sarah running towards you in the distance, shielding her small son beneath her as they both sprint to the commotion. You make a break for them, popping a few more caps in the liquid metal’s ass as you pass by. 

“This way! Follow me!” You shout, pointing them in the opposite direction. They begin to follow you through the maze of hallways, practically running up your heels as you burst through a side entrance. 

“Let’s get in the car.” You say, fiddling the keys out of your pocket. You unlock it for the frazzled pair, letting them huddle together in the backseat. Just as you’re pulling out, you see the Terminator bust through the brick exterior of the burning edifice. He looks pissed. He quickly saunters over to the stolen vehicle, ripping open the driver’s side door and glaring at you.

“Move.” He orders, grabbing your left bicep and squeezing it painfully. You yelp when he yanks you out of the seat and stumble when you land, huffing at the cyborg as you rub your now possibly bruised muscle. The machine doesn’t spare a second glance, slamming the door shut behind him as he takes your place. You scoff as you walk over to the passenger side, quickly getting in to avoid engaging the T-1000 any further. 

The ride back is eerily quiet. There’s an obvious tension in the air that nobody wants to question. You lean against the window, watching the moon in the sky. It disappears as you head into the shithole you’re all camping out in. He slowly pulls the car forward, turning it off when it’s completely in the abandoned garage. You swing the door open, walking away from the car and into the furthest decaying room in the decrepit building. You drop your empty gun onto the table in the middle of the room, sitting heavily onto the dusty couch in the corner. The dust flies up as you flop onto the old cushions. You listen as distant footsteps make their way to their respective rooms, rolling your eyes when you hear a particular heavy pair approaching yours. As the T-800 enters your space, you swing your legs up across the couch and cross your arms. This is going to take a while judging by his agitated stance.

He walks up until he’s right in front of you, blue eyes glowering down at you. 

“You disobeyed a direct order, [Y/N].” The machine says sharply. You purse your lips, trying to bite back your frustration. It doesn’t work.

“I’m not useless you fucking idiot. I also have a gun. Just because you’ve had to swing in sometimes doesn’t mean that I can’t handle myself.” You snap, staring icily at the humanoid. You’re sick of him always pushing you away from the action. He narrows his eyes at you, a calculating look present in his gaze. 

“Since my previous attempts to hinder you without harming you have failed, I’m going to enact a different punishment on you.” He announces monotonously. A look of confusion overcomes your expression.

“What does that mean?” You ask, curious what the punishment is. You gasp when he firmly grabs your right forearm faster than you can blink, hoisting you up to your feet with ease.

“I’m going to have sexual intercourse with you.” The machine deadpans, watching your [e/c] eyes widen in surprise and your cheeks turn red. 

He didn’t just—

“Wh-What?” You sputter, feeling your face steadily growing hotter. 

“I’m going to—”

“I heard you the first time!” You shout incredulously, swiftly cutting off the Terminator’s sentence. He simply stares at you, seeming to gaze into your soul. Unable to help yourself, you look down to where his crotch would be before quickly flicking your eyes back to his. 

“C-Can you even- do you…?” You find it hard to muster the courage to ask, but the machine catches on to what you’re trying to say.

“Yes. I have very detailed files located in my CPU.” He looks down to his groin area, slowly looking back up at your flustered face.

“And yes. I do have the proper anatomy.” He tilts his head when your cheeks turn a shade darker due to embarrassment. His left hand comes up to touch your face, feeling the warmth.

“Why is your face so red?” The T-800 asks as he cups your right cheek. You swallow nervously.

“Embarrassment. You’ve caught me completely off guard.” You answer. His thumb strokes over your red flesh tenderly. He seems to drink in your features, memorizing the colors, temperatures and curvature of it all.

“H-How exactly is that a punishment?” You stutter anxiously, flexing your arm that is trapped in his firm grip. 

“I will render you immobile by the end of it without having to seriously injure you.” The machine responds nonchalantly. Your eyes widen for what seems like the hundredth time.

“Aren’t there any other methods you can try?” You spout, leaning your head back when he brings his face closer to yours. His eyes flick to your lips.

“You’ve rendered all of my other alternatives ineffective, [Y/N].” He says firmly, his cool breath brushing over your face. You feel conflicted. Your body is heating up to his advances, but you’re also unsure about this. Sarah and John are just across the old house.

“Bu-But John an-and Sar—”

“They are not your concern right now.” He interrupts before pressing his mouth against yours, fluidly pressing a hot kiss to your lips. You squeak against his fiery smooch, clutching on to his shoulders as he grabs you by the waist to pull you flush against his body. His lips move expertly against yours, a shiver rolling up your spine from how good they feel. The machine’s fleshy exterior oddly tastes just like a normal human’s would, your discovery proven further when he nips your bottom lip to slide his tongue into your mouth. You moan when you feel it brush against your own. His fingers trail up your spine as he continues to kiss you breathless, making your body shake at the sensation. A gasp is ripped from you when the Terminator bunches your hair at the back of your head into a fist and pulls you off his mouth suddenly. His artificial blue eyes search your flushed face as you pant, your fingers clenching the material of his shirt in a death grip.

“What are you doing?” You ask in between your staggered breathing. The machine doesn’t respond, running his eyes down your body. His free hand slides up your side, cupping your left breast through your shirt. He tilts his head curiously, squeezing the soft flesh. As he kneads it, you can feel your nipples begin to press against the fabric of your shirt. Damn you for not wearing a bra. The Terminator notices, rubbing his thumb over the sensitive nub. You inhale sharply as he does and his eyes snap to yours. For a being that is unable to produce emotions he sure is staring at you intensely. 

“I’m looking at your body reacting to me.” He says lowly, releasing his grip on your hair to grope your ass. He palms your right asscheek, the globe of flesh easily engulfed by his large hand. This presses your lower body against him harder and you find yourself letting out a small moan. Your cheeks burn as he looks at you again, seeming to process the noise you just made. His hand once again kneads your ass and he watches as you bite your lip. You’re finding it more difficult to separate from the T-800 as he continues to caress you, trying to figure out what makes you squirm. You can’t deny how hot it’s making you feel. 

“I want to kiss you again.” He states, looking confused about why he is saying that. You smile, your right hand coming up to touch the back of his thick neck. 

“Then kiss me.” You giggle, letting all your anxiety go as you meet him in the middle. You’ll admit that you have thought about the robot in an inappropriate light sometimes, but you always held back because it was certain he couldn’t reciprocate the feelings you had. You kiss him hungrily, guiding his hands to your hips and wrapping your arms around his neck. He grunts against your mouth, caught off guard by your sudden enthusiasm. His fingers dig painfully into the flesh of your hips. You roll yourself against him, feeling his muscled figure press against you. His usually rigid body softens for a second. The action is frighteningly human-like. 

“What was that?” The android asks softly, always curious to learn. You run your hand up the side of his face, your thumb caressing his angular cheek.

“I think that was the tension in your muscles leaving, making you relax.” You murmur against his mouth, feeling the cyborg clench and unclench your hips as he deciphers what that means. As he’s distracted, you manage to swing him around and sit him on the couch, quickly straddling him before he can protest.

“[Y/N]—“ You interrupt him by pressing your thumb over his lips. 

“No. You know nothing sex and I don’t want you to hurt me because you definitely can. Let me teach you a little at least.” You say heatedly to him, carefully running your thumb over his plump lips. His eyes narrow, an ever calculating look in them. After a few more moments of tense silence, the T-800 lays into the couch, signaling that you have free reign. 

“Fine.” He replies, watching as a smug smile crosses your lips.

“You have to learn to slow down and take in the moment.” You say quietly, lust lacing your tone. You lower yourself into his lap completely, gasping when you feel his hard lower anatomy against yours. You fist your hands around the shirt on his wide chest, pulling yourself tightly into him. 

“It’s called foreplay. Stuff you do before the actual act.” You whisper against his neck, beginning to grind your clothed pussy against his clothed dick. Your resounding moan has his hands coming up to hold the tops of your thighs. His fingers are twitching erratically though. A deep exhale leaves his body. You cock your head and repeat the motion again. This time his body shivers, like he’s being electrocuted. The robot squeezes your thighs to the point that you’re certain there will be bruises. A grunt of confusion leaves his artificial voice box. You giggle, nipping his jaw line. 

“Feel good?” You ask softly, resting completely still against him to entice him to do it himself. The male humanoid seems so confused, synthetic blue eyes searching yours.

“I don’t know.” He says flatly and you smile, carefully dragging his hands up to your hips. He grips them tightly.

“Then you try.” You mumble, resting against his chest while he tries to calculate his movements. He watches your face as he attempts to repeat the roll of your hips into his crotch. He nails it, pressing you deeper into him as his arousal rubs against yours. A growl rumbles through him and he continues to grind you against him as you moan. 

“Ah- fuck.” Your grip tightens around the material of his shirt. His precision is unmatched and you couldn’t get the words out to tease him.

“Am I doing this right?” He asks in his usual monotone voice, though there’s the slightest tinge of strain in it. You glare at him, a hitched breath following after he successfully glides against you again. His toneless voice is getting on your nerves. 

“You’re so annoying.” You manage to grit out, forcing yourself to take back over. The cyborg surprisingly lets you overpower him, his striking blue gaze studying your every movement. His eyes narrow scornfully as your words set in.

“I could say the same about you.” He snarks back, making you scowl at him. God– Why did he have to be so damn infuriating?! You tsk, moving to hop off of his lap. So what if he’s obviously stronger than you? It doesn’t give him the right to keep you away from danger you willingly throw yourself into. You grunt in pain when his fingers squeeze painfully into the meat of your hips, keeping you hovering over him. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” The machine asks menacingly, his stare reflecting his voice. You glare back, standing your ground.

“Away from you.” You hiss. “Let go of me.” 

The Terminator curls back his lips. It’s an animalistic act and it catches you wildly off guard. He’s never done that. He must be pissed. 

“Why are you so defiant?” He practically growls, his face looming closer to yours. 

“Why are you such an asshole?” You spit back, freezing when he thrusts his hips back up against yours. 

“You drive me insane.” He says hoarsely, like he’s almost sheepish to admit it. You open your mouth to retort back, but all that comes out is an unrestrained moan. The cyborg has latched his teeth on your earlobe, biting down with a bruising pressure that borderlines painful. It feels almost too good. He soon pulls away, softly kissing the same spot almost regretfully.

“It’s like my body knows what it’s doing before my mind does.” The Terminator admits quietly into your ear. You chuckle a bit at his honesty. 

“Then stop trying to think about it.” You reply, arching your back when you feel him squeezing your breast again. He hums low in his chest, adjusting so he’s lying beneath you. His eyes seem to admire your body on top of his, his hand still kneading your right tit as he looks up at you. 

“Show me how.” The machine asks softly, his contemplative gaze watching your every move. His voice is not as flat as it was before. You smile at him, planting your hands on his firm chest. Slowly, you begin by lazily rolling your hips against his own. His large hands traverse the expanse of your body, carefully squeezing each section to find what you like best. The cyborg finds you respond to your ass being touched the most. Squeezing each globe of flesh possessively, he begins to mimic your grinding with his own against your clothed pussy. You whine when you feel his hardness press against your clit with such confidence. He seems to perk up at that.

“Like this?” The machine asks gently, repeating the perfect roll of his hips yet again. It elicits another noise of pleasure from you and you nod your head.

“Y-Yes. Like that.” You tumble out, your fingers digging into his pectorals. He grunts in response, massaging your ass carefully into place so you’re now softly rocking against him in a more intimate rhythm. 

“Oh!” You cry out, not expecting the sudden change in pace and atmosphere. You feel your body heating up quicker than you anticipated, the Terminator’s dry humping proving to be more sensual than you would’ve imagined. It’s difficult to form words while he has you in this new position now, your stomach winding tighter and your voice raising higher. 

“H-Hey, y-ahn!” You moan when you begin to feel yourself on the edge. 

“Hmm? You’re going to have to speak up.” He rumbles deeply. You frown at him and watch as the corner of his lips turn up teasingly, soon pausing his rhythm to allow you to get a few words out. 

“T-Touch me, please.” You say breathily, watching as the robot’s eyes darken with thought. It’s interesting to watch his internal dialogue through his eyes. He’s obviously trying to learn as he goes. It’s kind of cute. You move with him as the Terminator shifts, laying flat on his back across the old couch. It’s weird to be the one sitting on top of the deadliest threat known to any human. He lightly pats your butt forward, like he’s asking you to move up to straddle his face. You look at him with wide eyes. He offers a smirk. Nibbling your bottom lip, you shift up towards his angular features. When you get closer, the machine helps you to strip off your trousers. You shiver when you feel his automated breath on your now exposed folds. You feel so vulnerable sitting above him like this. He has full access to your body in this position. Perhaps that was his intention. You shiver when you feel one of his warm thumbs brush over your slit, collecting some of the wetness there. He swipes the digit over his tongue, processing the new liquid. His eyes are sharp as they connect with yours.

“So aroused over practically nothing.” He states monotonously, but his face holds a smug expression. You sneer down at him.

“Now you— OH!” You damn near screech when the cyborg shoves his face right into your soaked cunt. He doesn’t waste any time, licking a methodical line all the way up. You shudder above him, one of your hands sliding down to grip his hair. He hums against your wetness. You can feel him experimenting, trying to find what makes you squirm the most. He’s succeeding. Your mind is in a haze, feeling foggy from the amount of pleasure this robot is steadily bringing you. Subconsciously, you can feel the momentum of his hips rutting into the air. Poor thing is lacking attention and even he doesn’t seem to know. Through your desire-filled fog, you manage to bend back and place your left hand over his impressive size.

The machine falters for a minute when he feels your smaller hand drag against his hard cock. Then he reacts. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as his loud groan is muffled by your pussy.

“O-Oh wow.” You pant, stroking him again. Another deep noise vibrates through you. It makes you realize just how close you are.

“Aaa- I’m gonna come.” You whine, pressing yourself harder against his face. A few more precise licks from him have you seeing stars. You hold on for dear life as you come into the awaiting machine’s mouth, your fingers tightly wound in his artificial hair. You can’t even hear the curses and moans slipping from your mouth as you ride out your high. Your vision is white for a few seconds before you can hear yourself panting and feel your hips twitching.

The T-800 is pressing gentle kisses to your sensitive pussy as you come down from your orgasm. A strangled whimper leaves your mouth when you finally process him doing so. You weakly raise yourself away from his face, shaking your head. 

“T-Too sensitive.” You say airily, groaning when you feel him turn his lips to your inner thighs instead. He waits for you to calm down, languidly massaging your hips as you loosen your grip on his hair. Eventually you look down at him, a small smile on your face as he rests his cheek against your soft skin. He seems to be entranced by the sight of you. You sit back on his firm chest, wondering what’s going to happen next. The robot’s hands shift from your hips down to your ass, his fingers kneading the plush flesh. His tongue peeks past his lips as he licks your cum off of them. You swear you can see his pupils dilate. The action makes you feel unbearably hot all over again. His head tilts slightly, ever observant eyes studying you. He stays silent though, clearly waiting for you to make the next move. Interesting. 

You decide you want to see what you were stroking earlier, so you adjust yourself to face his crotch. Your backside is in his face in this position, but he doesn’t seem to mind judging by the way his large hands immediately return to massage it. It’s quiet as your hands fiddle with his belt, the sound of the metal clinking the only sound that fills the air. You don’t waste a second when it’s unfastened, unbuttoning his pants and pulling the zipper down. You can feel the machine sigh deeply beneath you. The fabric must’ve been tight against him. You smile at the thought, your petite hands carefully pushing the material down to expose more of the T-800’s skin. He lifts his hips slightly to make it easier for you to do so. You gasp quietly when his hard length smacks against his stomach. Oh wow. The size is certainly intimidating. What intrigues you the most is how authentic it looks. The tip is an angry red with some precum already smeared atop it. The shaft is quite girthy with a few veins here and there. There’s a slight curve to it as well. You can feel your inner walls clench in excitement as you continue to stare at his anatomy. The pits of your lower belly are burning yet again. You flinch when you feel something poke at your entrance. 

“What are you doing?” You ask, peeking over your shoulder the best you can to see what the Terminator is up to. His face holds an investigative expression. You shiver when you feel what you’ve determined to be his finger touch your wet pussy again. It doesn’t pull back this time, instead circling your hole. His silence is unnerving.

“I saw your muscles contract. Are you alright?” He asks innocently. You couldn’t help the small chuckle that escapes your lips. 

“Yes, I’m fine. Just excited.” You respond, returning your attention to the hard cock that rests against his defined abdomen. You gently take him into your hand, mulling over the fact that your fingertips just barely touch when wrapped around his girth. You give him an experimental pump, smiling in delight when his hips jerk in response. A quiet grunt leaves him. You repeat the motion, this time continuing to stroke him while adjusting the pressure. A low sound rumbles through the machine and you can feel his fingers squeeze the back of your thighs tightly. The muscles of his stomach grow taut as you continue your ministrations, watching in awe as precum slowly oozes from his tip. You dip down and run your tongue over the head, collecting the milky fluid that leaks from it. A sharp inhale emits from the cyborg as you drag your warm appendage over his sensitive flesh. You take a moment to think over the taste before swallowing. It’s slightly sour, but otherwise flavorless. It holds the same texture as regular ejactulate goes. Without any further hesitation, you wrap your lips around his cock and begin to suck on him while stroking too. The machine’s hips begin to shake beneath you, most likely feeling overwhelmed from the unfamiliar stimulation.

“Mm-mmpf.” A strained, breathy moan resounds from him and you hum against his length at the noise. That was hot. His hips still erratically twitch beneath you. It seems this is becoming too much for him at the moment.

“Wh-What is this? My systems ar-are–nngh.” His voice is tense as he attempts to speak. It’s clear he’s struggling to process what exactly he’s experiencing right now. It’s kind of cute, but he needs to chill out. His grip on your thighs is growing painful. In an attempt to make the cyborg relax, you smooth your left hand over the top of his muscular thigh and begin to lightly trace patterns on it. You also pull your mouth off of him, lazily pumping his cock instead while you wait for him to cool down a bit. His tremors eventually subside and you feel him kneading your poor thighs. 

“You okay?” You hum quietly, looking over your shoulder to assess his expression. Judging by the way his eyebrows are furrowed, he appears to be deep in thought.

“Yes. Keep going.” He replies. You nod, resuming your task of overworking him. Until you feel a finger prod at your puffy folds yet again. Before you can say anything, the digit begins to slowly sink into your twitching heat. A shaky exhale leaves you as he reaches down to his third knuckle with ease. You struggle to continue stroking him as the Terminator gently rubs his finger against your walls, clearly trying to find your most pleasurable spots. A heady whine echoes through the dingy room as he manages to caress a part that makes your eyes roll into the back of your head. 

“You should lower your voice, [Y/N]. Sarah and John are still here.” The machine murmurs. You scoff, now determined to make him regret those words. Readjusting your grip, you begin to pump his dick in your hand with more fervor. His hips jump slightly and you smirk as a choked groan emits from him. You don’t let the robot recover from the sudden change, quickly engulfing the head of his cock into your mouth and sucking. A violent shudder rolls through the machine’s body and it only spurs you on. Taking a deep breath, you try to swallow the Terminator’s cock down your throat. A loud moan fills the air as you do, his hips snapping up on their own accord. You gag as the rest of his length is forced into your esophagus, your lips successfully pressing against his pubic bone. His hands are again wrapped around the backs of your thighs, a plethora of unintelligible words expelling from the T-800. You manage to relax yourself, starting to slowly drag your mouth up and down. 

“Oh– I d-don’t– I think I’m–” His loud gasp is your only warning before you feel a gush of liquid spill down your throat. You choke, swallowing the best you can before you have to pull away so you don’t throw up. The machine is shaking beneath you, a final spurt of cum rolling down the length of his cock before he stills completely. You lick him clean, savoring it before you sit up and turn around. You’re seated comfortably on his defined abdomen, looking down at his blissed out expression. His cheeks are red and his eyes are dilated as hell, only a smidge of the blue irises visible. It makes you smile. 

“How are you feeling?” You expected him to instantly remind you that machines cannot feel anything, but you’re surprised when he doesn’t respond immediately. 

“Warm.” He murmurs quietly after a few seconds and you swear your heart melts at the simple, genuine reply. The T-800’s eyes flicker around your figure for a few moments, seeming to really take in the view in front of him. His lips twitch and you feel his right hand cup the back of your head.

“Come here.” He mumbles as he gently brings you up towards his face, meeting you halfway and passionately pressing his lips against yours. You feel his other arm slink around your waist as he sits up a bit, carefully pressing your body snug against his own. You gladly sink into him, rolling your tongue against his bottom lip in a silent demand for him to deepen the kiss. He seems to understand, a soft groan vibrating against your mouth as he opens his own. He allows you to explore, secretly enjoying the taste of you being processed through his overheated system. It gradually grows more raunchy and you only pull back when you feel his length twitch against your ass. You must’ve shifted down here at some point. His hands slide down to your plush backside, gently massaging the skin while he practically stares into your soul.

“Would you like to continue?” He asks softly, focusing on your face as you smile. You adjust your hips accordingly, sighing out an enthusiastic “Yes.”

The machine helps you adjust so you’re hovering over his cock, teasingly circling your entrance before pressing against it. He pauses, clearly continuing to give you the lead. Lightly biting the inside of your cheek, you begin to sink down on his sizable dick. A low moan expels from you as you slide him into you, relishing in the way he seems to pulsate inside of you. The robot shares your pleasure, sucking in a breath despite not having lungs. Strange…

“Mmm..You’re overwhelming.” He shudders, and you moan as you eventually press against his base. You feel extremely full, but it’s surprisingly super exhilarating. An erotic chuckle puffs from you as you adjust, your hands cupping his somehow rosy cheeks. 

“You feel so good.” You admit breathily, pressing a soft kiss to his lips as you begin to set a rhythm. A sonorous hum is his response as you feel his hands run up your back. An intense, but intimate grind is kept in place as you both process what feels good and what feels better. You’re reduced to shaky moans and pants as the heat within grows hotter. The T-800 beneath you is in a blissed out haze, but is still unsurprisingly quiet as he watches your reactions the entire time. Ingraining it in his CPU files. A growl thrums from him as he suddenly hijacks your rhythm, forcing your hips down until you’re flush against him and keeping you there. 

“I’d like to take over.” He grunts out and you whimper against his neck, loathing the fact that you can’t move in his vice-like grip. You brush your thumbs over his cheeks before nodding. 

“Okay.” You whisper, adjusting your hands so they hold onto his broad shoulders. His fingers adjust their grip on your backside, aiding in lifting you slowly off of his length. He continues until just the tip remains inside, then he just as painstakingly lowers you back down. The motion allows you to feel everything inch by inch and it makes you feel warmer than you thought possible. A high-pitched moan erupts from you as soon as he bottoms out, the length of him perfectly massaging against a sensitive spot deep within. 

“Right there?” He asks softly. You nod, your fingers digging into his shoulders. A smirk curls his lips at your response, mischief flashing briefly through his focused expression. You don’t have a second to question it when the machine grinds into you before pulling out to piston his entire length back into that exact, mind-numbing spot. A strangled gasp is all you can muster as you hold on to his broad shoulders, your head tilting back as the warmth from within your body slowly overwhelms you. The pressure builds as he sets a bruising pace, the smack of your hips against his audible now. Your entire body jolts against his powerful thrusts, but it isn’t painful. Not when his cock massages the inside of you perfectly every single time. An obscene squelching sound soon becomes audible. You can feel the pressure mounting, your fingers clawing his biceps frantically. His lips brush over your neck. The Terminator is quiet, but a quiet set of groans rumbles from him every now and again. He remains watchful of your face, looking on as you slowly begin to lose yourself on him. Because of him. He’s quite a sight to bestow, eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks with his mouth slightly parted in focus.

“Y-You bastard.” You manage to grit out through your pants, a heated moan pouring out soon after. His teeth find your earlobe and all you can do is arch your back as a powerful wave of heat seizes you suddenly. His hand covers your mouth just in time as an unrestrained cry tears through your throat as the orgasm washes over. The arm around your waist locks up and you can hear him grunt as your pussy clenches around him, the cyborg burying his cock deep within you before he stills up as well.

“You’re so t-tight—nggh.” His artificial voice cracks before his entire body shudders, the feeling of his cum pumping into you following after. It only prolongs your ecstasy. The machine holds you tightly against him until both of you have recovered, removing his hand away from your mouth to join his other arm around your waist.

“Did I hurt you?” He asks after a bout of silence and you smile against his chest, shaking your head.

“No.” You mumble, a deep sigh leaving you as he moves to slide out of you. You groan lightly as he shifts so you now lay comfortably on top of him, the soreness of your body just beginning to set in by the movement. The humanoid’s fingers trail over your sweaty skin, mapping over the expanse over your spent frame.

“Good.” He says softly, and you snort at his response. The tips of his fingers trace down your spine as he hums.

“The goal was to make it hard for you to walk without seriously injuring you. I’m just making sure this solution is effective.” His usual monotone is back, but you pay no mind. You’re too busy falling asleep against his bulky form. Seems the robot wore you out more than you thought he could.

——

[nevernonline]

✧.* what’s your number?; kmg

synposis: after finding an online article about the number of sexual partners a woman should have, your day with your neighbor turns into him being lucky number eighteen.

paring/s: model! mingyu x afab! reader, ft. little brother! chan.

genre/s: humor (sort of lmao), neighbors2lvrs vibes, fuckboy&girl reader and gyu.

warning/s: alcohol consumption, sexual content (minors - dni), talks of broken bones, oc has female genitalia

word count: 3.8k

content: seggsy times, idiots being besties, reader loses her job, all the vibes.

note/s: loosely based on one of my fav movies, what's your number with anna ferris. lmao enjoy. also def unedited so srry. xo.

“Miss. Y/L/N. I’m very sorry but we have decided to let you go.” 

Your boss put down a brown cardboard box that once held wine from a staff party about a week ago. You stood in silence, why were you being fired? You’re one of the only executives who does their job. All of the other employees sit around and drink whiskey and flirt with the other women on your floor on company time, go home to their wives, and make six figures. 

“Sir, can I ask why?” 

“Budget cuts, sorry honey.” 

Honey of course. Not only is he himulating you, he’s also being condescending. 

“Why not fire Ted? He does nothing but use his company card for ‘business expenses’ like taking his different fucks to exotic vacations and restaurants.” 

“Our female clients like Theodore. Sorry it has to be this way. Here’s a check to keep your rent underway and for any troubles. Good luck.” 

You picked up the brown cardboard he handed it to you and dumped the white envelope into your bag as you stormed out of his glass chamber. 

Perfect timing, your brothers getting married and you’re getting fired. Your mother will surely love to hear about this. 

After gathering the contents of your desk you found your way back to your white and gray covered apartment, sinking down into the perfect couch you bought yourself as a reward for your first month in the job. 

Pulling your laptop from the pocket of your work bag, you scrolled through the news on your side widget . Coming across an article written in some stupid lifestyle magazine about ‘the appropriate number of sexual partners for women.’ 

“Okay, so society is regressing.” 

Curious enough you scrolled through to a small section with a quiz, childish, but probably suitable for women over 50 or under 21. 

Following your finger down the various categories that pertained to you until it came to the bottom of the page pointing out your result. 

“15 and over, women with this number often have difficulty finding a spouse and are unlikely to ever settle down. Are they fucking serious? Men can fuck 50 women and still are fine.” 

A vibration came from your phone, a text from your neighbor. 

[3:44pm]. 

Mingyu: Mind helping me out? New girl won’t take the bait about my “emergency” 

Y/N: what’s the issue with her this time? 

Mingyu: nothing, just too clingy. I’m expecting you in five, say our dad fell in the shower. Thank you, owe you. 

Y/n: got it see you in five. 

Mingyu and you met often when you were ushering out hook ups or crazy exes show up to your door. You didn’t know much about his life, other than he’s a model, and obviously has bad luck with women. 

Pulling yourself up off your couch and throwing a blazer back over your shoulders you strode off down to the other end of the hallway. 

“Mingyu? Mingyu seriously answer your phone? Hello!” 

The door opened revealing a semi-naked girl, she was pretty sure, blonde, tall, nice eyes, but boring. 

“Who the fuck are you?” 

“Mingyu’s sister, who the fuck are you?” 

“Oh my god! So sorry, hi so nice to meet you, I’m Ailee his gir-“ 

“My friend, y/n. What’s wrong?” 

Letting yourself passes the bra sporting blonde you looked Mingyu straight in the face and pulled out your best crying face, it was easy today being that you’re pissed about work and that stupid fucking quiz. 

“It’s dad, he fell. I don’t think it’s good, we have to go.” 

“Oh. Okay, let me change.” 

Mingyu pulled in his jeans and a white t-shirt, grabbed his fancy leather wallet from the counter and pulled you through the front door of his condo. 

“Ailee, let yourself out okay?” 

“Call me?”

“Uh, maybe it sounds like this is bad, maybe we should stop seeing each other? I’ll call you.” 

The truth is Mingyu was never going to call her, he said that to all the others. Yet, you never saw them again. 

Silently you open the door to your place and shut it behind you. 

“She seems nice.” 

“Yeah trust me, she’s not.” 

“Noted. But, better than that crazy red headed girl, Cass was it?” 

“We don’t have to talk about her.” 

“Missing that jacket still?”

“Yes.” 

Mingyu took his place on your leather armchair and sipped the coffee you had initially made for yourself. 

“What is this? What’s your number?”

“Oh my god. Stop looking at my shit.” 

You whipped the lid of your laptop close and stole it out of his hands

“Do you really think anyone cares how many people you sleep with? Isn’t that kind of fucked up?” 

“You can only say that because well, one your a man and two you’ve fucked basically half the women in this city.” 

“Not true, we haven’t fucked.” 

“Right and we will not.” 

“Sure, sure keep telling yourself that. So what is it? 12?” 

“Do you really need that answer?” 

“Yes. And I will bother you until you tell me.” 

“17.” 

Mingyu laughed, not because he felt bad for you or that you were going to hell for fucking 17 people, but because he didn’t see the big deal. 

“Oh come on, that is not that bad.” 

“What’s yours?” 

“Maybe 20?” 

“We are way too close in number for me to not feel weird about it now.” 

“Because it doesn’t matter, why do you think you couldn’t get a husband or boyfriend or whatever the fuck you want because of that?” 

“I don’t know, I didn’t until today I guess.” 

“Bad day?” 

The dark haired man’s head nodded towards the unpacked cardboard box sitting on your dining table. 

“Weird day. And now I have to go see my family at an overly fancy party and sit around clutching cocktails and lie that I didn’t lose my job, just until their precious boy is married off.” 

“Ah, the black sheep of a rich family huh?” 

“Shut up, no. They’re just judgmental is all. Well, my mom is anyway.” 

“I see. What are you wearing?” 

“I don’t know? What’s wrong with what I have on now?” 

Mingyu looked you over in your semi unbuttoned dress shirt and oversized trousers, sexy and sophisticated, but a little boring for a party. 

“Actually you look good. But, it’s not exactly giving a cocktail party for the sister of the groom. Especially if your mom is as judgmental as you say.” 

“Okay, go in my closet then. Work your weird model magic or whatever, Mr. Jeans and white tee.” 

“Anything for you, rich girl.” 

You walked Mingyu through your bedroom into the oversized walk in closet, filled to the brim of clothes, half of them with tags still on. Gifts from boyfriends, friends, your mother. 

“Wow, I didn’t expect this.” 

“And what did you expect?” 

“A closet turned into an office and like five pairs of the same pants, maybe matching pajama sets. But not this.” 

Sitting down on the small stool you let the man rifle his way through the various colors of fabric. 

“Okay, so this black dress. It’s tight but not overwhelmingly, it’ll show your figure and still make you appropriate. These tall black boots, sexy to show off your long legs and make you look even taller, a nice bag, maybe.. this red one? Or the green, just for a pop of color. Put it on.” 

“You finish quickly .” 

“Never had a woman say that to me before. Hurry up.” 

Smirking, you run back into your bedroom, out of sight from the man tapping his fingers on the marble countertop of your dressing room, sliding into the outfit he picked out. 

“Okay, I look-“

“Beautiful.” 

“Really? Don’t you think this is a little much? I mean, for this?” 

“Not at all, it’s actually really simple. May I?” 

He held up a silver chain necklace in his hands and waited until you nodded as he strung it around your neck. 

“Perfect. Now, leave your hair up. Maybe a nice bun and curl the front pieces? You look nice without makeup on, but do that cute winged liner look you do with a nude lip.” 

“Okay, since when did you become a stylist?” 

“I’m a model, I know what I’m talking about. Come on, chop chop.” 

“Okay, mom. Jesus.” 

“Dad. Daddy, actually.” 

“That's never happening.” 

Doing his instructions as he asked, you curled the front pieces of your hair letting it softly dangle in front of your face and placed the rest up on the crown of your head in a loosely tied knot. 

“Okay. So maybe you’re good at this.” 

“I know. If you need my help further, you know where to find me.” 

“You’re leaving?” 

“Aren’t you?” 

Holding up your phone you realized how much time has passed and grabbed your keys. 

“Right. Thank you.” 

“My pleasure. See you soon, y/n.” 

“Bye, Gyu.” 

Walking up to the front steps of your parents luxurious brown stone, you felt the cold sweat under your armpits before walking in the front door. 

“Y/N holy shit, where have you been? Mom is going to kick your ass.” 

“Sorry, Chanie. I had something going on. Where is she?” 

“In the dining room with Marnie and Seungcheol. Talking about wedding stuff, please save us.” 

Coming to your brother's rescue was part of the job of being an older sister. Seeing him settle down and get engaged to a girl like Marnie was amazing for you, she was everything he needed, and it was nice to have another girl in your family. 

Grabbing  a glass of champagne from the silver tray of a waiter, you strode up to your mother in your childhood home, still as nervous as you would have been as a little girl to be under her gaze. 

“Aw, my baby. Finally arrived. Hello.” 

“Hi, Mom. Hello, guys.” 

You mom hugged you giving a kiss on both of your blushing cheeks passing you along to greet your brother's future wife and his friend Seungcheol. 

“Y/N, you look amazing. Where did you get this beautiful dress?” 

“Thank you. My friend helped me pick this out actually, I don’t remember where it’s from.” 

“Friend? Which friend is this, darling?” 

“His name is Mingyu, he’s my neighbor.” 

“Gay? He has wonderful taste.” 

“No, not gay mom. He’s a model.” 

“Oh wow, can I see a photo? Why didn’t you bring him?” 

“Maybe next time.” 

After downing the first glass of alcohol you quickly look for another, Seungcheol already holding a glass in his hand for you with a wink. 

“Thank you.” 

“Anytime.” 

“Y/N, can you go find your father? Now that you're here we can start dinner.” 

“Yep.” 

Strolling throw the various rooms full of priceless knickknacks and photos of your youth, you stop at the open oak doors of your fathers study, looking at him for a moment, behind his desk, glasses on, reading his book. 

“Hello, Dad. May I come in?” 

“Y/N, yes of course. Just hiding out here until I can eat some dinner. How are you?” 

“I’m okay, mom sent me to get you to come eat. What are you reading?” 

“Oh, just some Orwell. Relaxes me.” 

“Shall we, sir?” 

“Yes, my girl.” 

You held your arm out for your father, he was always your best friend, someone who no matter what supported everything you wanted to do. He was stern, but even after parenting you he would end it with a hug and a piece of candy, seeing him grow older had your heart in pain. 

Searching the table for your placecard, it sat you right in between your brother and Seungcheol, his best man and best friend for longer than you could ever remember. 

“Are you coming to his bachelor mixer?” 

Seungcheol’s long eyelashes fluttered in front of your face and you noticed how much more mature he looked, he was always cute, but it’s grown on you now. 

“Are you going to embarrass me?” 

“I’m not the one who got drunk in college and broke her arm trying to dive into the fountain.” 

“Ouch. At least I haven’t shit myself drunk as an adult and embarrassed myself in front of the girl I liked.” 

“I did not shit myself. It was a fart.” 

“A fart with a little poop, a shart if you will. What did they call you? Shart Seungcheol?” 

Your mother interrupted the light flirting you two were enjoying and gave a speech about how lovely it is to see her baby marrying a second daughter and so on and so on. 

After everyone downed their salmon and fancy finger food, you got into the silly party bus along side the rest of the bridal party, moving on to the night of drinking ahead of you. 

“Guys let’s play a game on the way to the bar.” 

Your brother's fiancé spoke, turning down the music and passing around multiple bottles of tequila and glasses. 

“Everyone right down a confession on your paper. If we guess whose it is, they have to drink, but if you get it wrong you drink.” 

Looking down at the small pink sheet of paper you wrote about your day, your sex number, and you losing your job. Maybe nobody will get it, maybe nobody will care because they’ll be equally as drunk. 

The game went on as your anxiety grew and nobody had chosen your confession yet, that was until your brother pulled one of the last sheets of paper out from the bowl. 

“Today I lost my job, I let a stupid magazine article tell me how women who have sex with more than 15 men means they’re unloveable and unwanted. I can’t wait to get fucked up. Congratulations! Well that’s my sister.” 

“What? How did you guess that?” 

“I know your handwriting dumbass, drink, everyone drink.” 

Your night continued, nobody mentioned your failure as a person, they just celebrated the happy couple. 

More and more drinks in, maybe the same amount of people you’ve had sex with. You took it upon yourself to get people on the dance floor, when you felt a pair of hands coming up on your hips, turning around to curse them out, you recognized the eyes staring back at you. 

Mingyu. 

“What the hell are you doing here!?” 

“Birthday party, we always come here. What the hell are you doing here?” 

“Mixed sexes bachelor party.” 

Mingyu's hands were still resting on your hips, on top of the very dress he helped you pick out hours before. 

“Exciting. Want to get a drink with me?” 

“I have one.” 

You held up the half empty glass of your Negroni and Mingyu snatched it from your grip, downing it for you. 

“You’re paying.” 

“Yes. That was the plan.” 

His hand pulled out off the dance floor and back over to a pair black leather bar stools, waving the bartender over. 

“Two whiskey sours please.” 

“No, one whiskey sour. I’ll have a whiskey neat.” 

The bartender nodded working his magic for the two rocks glasses. 

“Here you go, tab Mingyu?” 

“Yes, thanks John.” 

“Wow first name bases?” 

“I told you we like to come here. Who’s the pale dude staring at us?” 

You turned around to look at your brother, cheering you from across the bar. 

“My brother, Chan. His wedding party.” 

“Yes, I remember. I meant the one next to him?” 

“Ah, Seungcheol. Best man.” 

“He wants to fuck you, maybe he’s lucky number eighteen.” 

“Maybe he was lucky number ten back in the day.” 

“Do you remember his number?” 

“No, but I’ve already fucked him. In college.” 

“Ah, I see. Still on the hunt?” 

“Not at all actually, I’m celabte now.” 

“No way, I bet you could find many dudes who’d want to fuck you here.” 

“It’s a matter of if I want to fuck them no?” 

“Touchè” 

“What about him?” 

Mingyu pointed to a tall blonde, long hair, and pretty lips. 

“Gorgeous. But not my style. I’m not really in the mood to get laid.” 

“And let my work go to waste?” 

You smiled, sipping your drink and feeling the warm liquid enter your body. 

“You didn’t give me my beautiful face and fat ass, you just put it in a dress. And as my dad says, leave them wanting more.” 

“You’re a very funny drunk, she shocks me even more.” 

“Can I ask you something?” 

“Mhm.” 

“Do you ever get tired of having me save your ass from all those girls? Don’t you want to settle down and not have your neighbor coming over to rescue you all the time?” 

“Maybe the reason I do it is so you’ll save me.” 

“Shut up.” 

“No. I’m serious. I like hanging out with you, I enjoy seeing you, and you’re very entertaining. I like role play.” 

“I see, you have a kink.” 

“All jokes aside, I like seeing you.” 

You were surprised by his gentle voice and nature, you always knew him from the outside, a beautiful guy who has bad luck getting girls out of his apartment for whatever reason. 

“I like seeing you too.” 

Mingyu's hand rested on your thigh as he looked towards the same dance floor he pulled you from before, basically begging you with his eyes to come back out with him. 

You agreed, holding his hands through various sweaty bodies, some you knew and some you didn’t. Dancing along with them to the rhythm of the song, holding yourself up on Mingyu's large frame 

“Surprised to see you in something other than jeans and a tee.”

“You like?” 

“If I say yes are you going to fuck with me over it?” 

“Maybe. Are you going to let me be your lucky number eighteen?” 

“If you promise you don’t have some random girl barge in your door tomorrow to get me to leave?” 

“She’ll be tied up.” 

“Let’s go. I have to say bye to my brother first. Come on.” 

Walking towards the door you spot Chan playing darts with Marnie, who was obviously kicking his ass. 

“Hey! I’m going to head out, I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“Is this Mingyu?” 

“Oh shit, yes Marnie, Chan, this is Mingyu. Mingyu, this is my brother Chan and his fiancé Marnie.” 

Mingyu outstretched his hand to the couple, shaking it kindly. 

“Nice to meet you man, my sister talks about you a lot. Be good to her.” 

“Chan, shut the hell up. Love you both, mwah mwah.” 

“Mingyu if you’re free tomorrow, y/n has a plus one. We’d love to have you.” 

Smiling and whisking Mingyu out of the front door, you began to run together through the light rain falling, two blocks to your apartment. 

“Sorry, my brothers, an idiot.” 

“He seems nice, his wife to be too.” 

You felt your hands shaking in nervousness riding up the elevator to your shared floor. Stepping off and standing in the hallway between your two front doors. 

“Your place or mine?” 

“Well, I picked you up didn't I? Come to mine.” 

Mingyu led you through his familiar front door and helped you out of your wet clothes, throwing them in his washing machine. 

Now standing in his living room, just in your black lace bra and panties, feeling like all those other girls before. Almost in fear of someone knocking to kick you out of his dimmed apartment. 

“Come on.” 

You giggled as he picked up your half naked frame and carried you into his bedroom. 

“Lay down. Off the edge of the bed, trust me.” 

You didn’t say anything just followed his instructions as his fingers came and wrapped themselves around your lace underwear, blowing on your clit with his soft breath as he pulled them down your freshly shaved legs. 

“Fuck.” 

His lips came in contact between your heated center, splitting his kisses between your aching parts and your thighs. 

Your hands working their way through his hair as he used his tongue to work his way around your clit and between your folds, pushing you closer and closer into your own euphoria. 

Maybe you understood why girls didn’t want to let him go, if this was his head game, you can’t even imagine what could come next. 

“You taste so sweet, I should’ve known better to be careful, I might get addicted to you.” 

“Stop with the niceties, Gyu. Can you please fuck me?” 

“Eager are we?” 

“Yes.” 

Mingyu pulled you up by the back of your neck, forcing your head near the top of his dick, waiting for you to wrap your mouth around it and get it sopping wet so he could enter in between your legs. 

“Oh, baby, that feels so good. I love watching you on my dick, but we have to stop before you get me going too much.” 

Your head turned up at him, mascara slightly spilling under your eyes, as you opened your mouth searching for the feeling of his lips on yours, before he planted in on you he spit into your mouth, and inserted himself between the same thighs he was kissing before, slowly entering inch by inch, making you wait to feel him fully inside of you even more. 

“Comfortable, baby?” 

“Yes, faster please.” 

“So polite, but as you said before, leave them wanting more and more. I want you to get riled up.”  

“Yes, sir.” 

“Mmm, I like the sound of that.” 

His thrusting became more rapid with your soft moaning, kissing your neck in the process, riding out your high with you, you felt him begging to slow down as his teeth wrapped around your hard nipples, sucking softly at them. 

“You’re so delicious, I don’t think I can last much longer.” 

“Me either, but it’s only round one.” 

“Do you want to do this again?” 

“Eighteen has always been my lucky number, now fill me up.” 

With your final words, Mingyu rode the rest of his high before finishing inside of you, placing a soft kiss on your perfectly pink lips, and dipping his head back down to your center to clean you up with his mouth. 

“Want to stay?” 

“Is that alright?” 

“Yeah, come on. Let’s shower.” 

The tall man led you into his beautiful marble bathroom and turned the water on in his shower built for two. 

“I meant what I said at the bar, you know. I like being with you.”  

Your long arms reached up to his hair, massaging his scalp with shampoo. 

“I meant what I said too, lucky eighteen.” 

“So I’m your lucky number?” 

“Yes, don’t tell my mom tomorrow.” 

“Don’t worry, I’ll tell her that you called me sir and the ass she gave you is indeed perfect.” 

You planted a soft kiss on his lips, before pushing him back under the warm water of the shower head. 

“I dare you.” 

[sanjisleggy]

the siren and the sun (portgas d. ace x reader) [pt5]

a/n: gong xi fa cai my fellow ace lovers, i have returned after more than 2 weeks of no new chapter, enjoy :D also this will contain my first attempt at something vaguely smutty and im trying my best so ahsjdhsahddgsjfhd

contents: fluff!! whitebeard pirates being a whole family :’D, some suggestive themes as i attempt to write smth seggsy

wc. 1.9k

wanna be on my taglist?

part 4 || part 6

i. 

the gentle rocking of the Moby Dick and the gentle streams of light filtering through your cabin blinds are what coax you awake the next morning.

blinking away the sleep in your eyes, it takes you a second to remember the events that occurred just hours ago when the sun had yet to rise and the moon stood high in its place. the memories are solidified as such–and not as mere dreams–when you feel a light stirring on top of your chest.

Ace mumbles something incoherent as he adjusts his head, still deep in slumber. his face rests on its side atop your chest as his firm arms lay on either side of your body with one hand interlocked with yours while the other stretches out and dangles over the edge of your bed. your free hand–the one not held clenched in his damp palm–is draped across his back, bent at the elbow just enough for the tips of your fingers to reach the base of his hair at the back of his neck. you drag your hand up further until his mildly sweaty, wavy hair is weaved in between your digits before you start scratching at his scalp gently.

he hums softly and shuffles a little but settles back into deep sleep with a faint smile stretching across his freckled face. taking a few quiet minutes to look at his peaceful self, a warmth swells up in your chest. you can’t quite remember the last time you’ve seen him so calm and relaxed, even as children he was always on-edge regardless of being awake or asleep.

a sudden light knocking snaps you out of your thoughts as your eyes dart over to the door of your cabin slowly swinging open just a crack.

“hey, (Y/N), you awake–” you recognise Marco’s voice before you see his face but once you do, you immediately catch how his eyes widen when he spots Ace sleeping on top of you. his mouth begins to form an ‘O’ shape but you cut him off before he can say anything embarrassing.

“leave!” your tongue tingles as you use your Devil Fruit ability, careful not to speak too loud in fear of waking the young man resting on your chest. as expected, your commander obeys without question and shuts your door but it doesn’t take long before you hear muffled shouts about how some people now owe him a lot of berry. 

“guess we won’t have to break the news ourselves, huh?” Ace mutters as his eyes flutter awake. he grins when your eyes meet his and you can’t help but smile, too. “good morning, pretty,” he hums before inching forward to brush his lips against yours.

“g’morning,” you reply in the middle of the kiss as you feel your face heat up when it dawns on you that this really is happening. you are, in fact, in bed with your childhood love and he is, in fact, kissing you good morning.

you idly wonder if life could get any better than this and, for the following months, it does.

ii.

it doesn’t take long for you and Ace to become very comfortable as partners and the endless teasing from the division commanders and Pops himself doesn’t fluster you as much as you initially worried it would. it helps that aside from poking fun at the both of you, they wholeheartedly support your relationship and aren’t afraid to show it.

Marco was the one who suggested transferring you from the first division to the second–purely out of sheer coincidence–when it was announced that Ace would officially join that division.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” he’d said as he turned his head away to hide his teary eyes when you asked if he would miss you being his second-in-command.

“y’know i don’t have to change divisions just for Ace, right?” you teased while elbowing Marcoin the ribs in an attempt to get him to show you his face.

“well, we all know you want to,” he replied as he ruffled your hair, “and what kind of big brother would i be to stop you?”

Vista had been the one who taught Ace about the language of flowers which eventually led to you receiving a bouquet of one hundred and eight sunflowers. when you asked him what it meant, all he did was turn red, stutter incoherently before setting himself on fire.

“he’ll tell you whenever he’s ready!” was all Vista said with a hearty chuckle when you asked him for its meaning instead, knowing full well if you tried asking Ace again the entire ship might go down in flames.

Thatch was the one who prepared a twelve course meal just for the two of you after Ace offhandedly mentioned the anniversary of the day you first met Luffy and him was coming up soon.

“how’d you even remember that?” you’d asked incredulously, finding it hard sometimes to even recall the current day of the week, let remember a single date from so many years ago. in response, his face flushed red.

“i-i don’t know! i just do, okay?” he huffed as he crossed his arms over his chest and looked away, his freckled cheeks turning an even deeper shade of red when you started to laugh.

on the mentioned day itself, you and Ace exited your cabin for dinner only to find the ship was entirely empty except for Thatch and Izou–with the latter promptly whisking you away the moment he spotted you leaving your room.

after half an hour of waiting in the dining room by himself, wearing a suit that was definitely not his, Ace felt his jaw drop when he saw you enter as Izou shut the door behind you. a light layer of makeup was painted on your face, the amount just enough to accentuate your features without overshadowing your natural beauty. 

when Ace’s eyes trailed down from your face to your body, he realised then it was the first time he’d ever seen you wearing a dress and it was perhaps the most beautiful dress he’d ever seen. although, if he were to be honest with himself, he wasn’t entirely sure if the clothing itself was beautiful or if it was because you had been the one wearing it. 

that evening, for the first time in his life, Ace ate as slowly as possible, working his way through the different courses at a snail’s pace. the food was delicious but seeing your candle lit face smiling at him from across the table satiated a yearning deep in his heart. 

later that night, after you’d long fallen asleep, Ace slipped out from your bed and found Thatch still up, prepping ingredients for the next day. to the older man’s surprise, Ace bowed deeply and thanked him for the meal and for putting a smile on your face that would be engraved into his memory for the rest of time. Thatch simply laughed and said it was no big deal, that he was happy to do it for the both of you. 

Ace ended up staying up that night and you found him later in the morning, sleepily cutting vegetables in the kitchen by Thatch’s side.

iii.

over the months, you and Ace become a force to be reckoned with, making your mark on the seas in your sworn father’s name.

it doesn’t take long for the world to learn that the infamous super rookie Fire Fist Ace was now in Whitebeard’s second division and that wherever he showed up, one person would undoubtedly be by his side.

another Devil Fruit user, surely, the marine cadets would whisper amongst themselves as another charred ship docks at headquarters and out of it pours countless soldiers on stretchers. i hear it’s not Conqueror's Haki,” one would say to another, “it doesn’t matter how hard you try, as long as you hear the command, you can’t fight it.” 

some would believe the rumours while others didn’t, steadfast in their belief that there’s no way the Command-Command Fruit still exists–not when the higher-ups insist it's been permanently destroyed. eventually, though, a handful of the sceptics would find themselves facing Fire Fist and his ally in the flesh and if they live to tell the tale, they’d return to their base and insist the Command-Command Fruit user truly is out there somewhere.

meanwhile, out on the open seas, you and Ace can’t care less about what the marines think of the two of you. all you care about are the little moments you share with him–like sitting in the front of his modified Striker as it speeds across the ocean while your hair catches the salty breeze; or the feeling of his soapy wet hair as you comb your fingers through it whenever you shower together, followed by the sound of his laugh after he shakes his hair dry just because he knows it annoys you.

your favourite moments with Ace are the quiet ones. the ones where you’re all alone and neither of you have anything to say but it doesn’t matter because the silence is so comfortable. you like when he lets his hands wander ever so carefully over your bare skin and underneath your clothes. his face always turns so red and yet he’ll stare into your eyes almost shamelessly, silently asking for permission to do more.

and then the quiet moments will turn not-so quiet as your soft huffs and moans fill the air while his fingers dance their way to places only meant for him to explore. sometimes you swear you can even hear the pounding of his Ace’s heart as he experiments with ways to elicit his favourite reactions from you–the ones where your breath hitches or your hips buck into his hand. 

sometimes he’ll let you return the favour but more often than not he’ll insist he enjoys making you feel good more than anything.

on the nights he gives in to his desires, though, Ace makes noises almost unbecoming of a powerful young man like himself. he’ll hide his face behind his hands or bury it into your blankets, unable to bring himself to openly show his teary eyes and drooling lips until you gently coax him out of his embarrassment.

“it’s okay, pretty boy,” you’ll find yourself saying more often than not as you softly pry his large hands away from his flustered, sweaty face. “don’t hide from me, my love,” you’d coo and he’d choke back a moan, fighting the urge to cover his face again, baring it all for you and only you.

and after all is said and done, Ace will sneak food and drinks into your cabin even if you tell him you’re not hungry but you’ll eat and drink anyway because he stole them all for you. you’d thank him by peppering his freckled face in kisses and dragging him to the shower before he can succumb to his sleepiness. you’d clean each other while chatting under your breaths and laughing at each other’s jokes. then, you’ll go to sleep in each other’s arms and he’ll use your chest as his pillow just like he did the night before.

hours later, the sun will rise and you’ll wake up before Ace does, as you always do, and the day will continue just like it had done yesterday, feeling so similar yet so different at the same time.

the little life you’ve built around your family and Ace is good and you’ve never been happier.

but you soon learn that all good times must come to an inevitable end.

gen taglist: @irethepotato @i-reblog-fics-i-like @grierpilots @appalost @hyper-fic-ation @dressycobra7 @38lyra38 @chaseyui @paraparakiss @krooschl @teewon @olliesoxenfree @misstraffy @riftmage27 @aletch @somatchajade @kitsunechan707 @thesmolestsage @lunaizhere @saint-atlas @goldenpanda16

series taglist: @captainportgasdace @mitskisaveme @graveyardsweethearts @vaniiiavengeance @stuckinmymind22

[starqueensthings]

If It’s Not You, It’s Not Anyone.

Ficlets inspired by song lyrics: part two.

Pairing: ARC Echo x GN!Reader

POV/WC: 2nd, but from Echo's perspective, 2082 words

Rating/Warnings: Teen. Overall fluffy but with significant mentions of anxiety. Seggsy time is implied a few times also.

A/N: while this isn’t my favourite song in the world, I’ve never been able to listen to it without this kind of imagery floating through my mind. I love the lyrics, especially when I fit them into an ARC Echo sized box. Not proof or beta read (and I’m notorious for making up my own words when I can’t think of the one I want… fair warning.) ENJOY. 

“Forever’s not enough time to love you the way that I want, because every morning I find you, I fear the day that I don’t. You say that I won’t lose you but you can’t predict the future ‘cause certain things are out of our control. If you ever move on without me, I need to make sure you know: you are the only one I’ll ever love… if it’s not you it’s not anyone.”

[Anyone - Justin Bieber]

He wasn’t a betting man anymore, the days he’d found himself brazen enough to wager his belongings were long since outgrown, and now merely a memory of the past brought up too frequently atop relentless jeers from his brother, Fives. The purgatorial hours after curfew but preceding sleep, saw Domino Squad sprawled across a table, discarded face cards tossed aside as the boys bickered with each other over who lay claim to the prize pot anchoring their fun. Echo was only too miserable to watch his prized possessions float from his clutches, lost to the treachery of one bad poker hand after another, the certainty of his impending win often betrayed by Hevy’s nearly inscrutable bluffing skills. “Just lucky, I guess,” the broad shouldered soldier would coo across the table with a wink, smirking as his fingers draped themselves eagerly around the mountain of contraband that he’d won.

Time and experience had seen a shift in priorities. Life… war… had quickly reinforced the notion that the distribution of Lady Luck’s attention was entirely unpredictable, and trying to elucidate her choices could send a man spiraling into an anguished insanity. It was far simpler to just swallow the bitter pill of unreasoning: sometimes you simply had her favour, and sometimes you did not (and Hevy, somehow, seemed to always have it).

Departing the protective bubble of Kamino’s isolation had proved less of a challenge than Echo anticipated thanks to the unexpected comfortability of their first posting. Surveilling the Rishi system from the stillness of a desolate moon was barely a challenge for the squad’s capable hands, especially after years of conditioning had endowed their expectations with images of carnage and violence, but despite the perceived insignificance of their objective, their overseeing officers were no less regimented or dogmatic than those whom had raised them. Tactics and strategy continued to be encouraged at every possible opportunity; obedience enforced, and discipline expected. “Segregation from the front lines is no excuse for complacency,” their sergeant would iterate repeatedly. “Any brother would be lucky to have landed this posting. Take it seriously.”

Between inappropriately fluffy songs, Clone Nation Radio recounted the events of battles fought across the galaxy, perfectly mirroring the sergeants continued pleas. Seemingly the only squad member willing to heed the advice, the quiet hours on the distant moon saw Echo pouring over schematics, the memorization of regulation manuals presenting him with the perfect shield against the potential chill of Lady Luck’s cold shoulder. His brothers’ snide remarks about indulging in this new ‘strange’ habit, simply rolled off his armoured shoulders. “We’ll see who gets the last laugh when these ‘dumb manuals’ help me out-survive all of you,” he would always chirr back with a roll of his eyes.

Yet his incessant need to retain information had unknowingly only sharpened a double-edged sword. In his earnest to ensure a complete competency, his shield of preparedness had rendered him protected on one hand, but preoccupied on the other, with the unknown shift in his awareness exposing a notion shared by many troopers: that the monster of mortality is all-too happy to lay-in-wait long enough for him to be forgotten about, pushed to the back burner a overly confident soldier's mind.  

The Rishi posting was quiet… until it wasn’t. Kamino seemed a fortress impenetrable to external threat… until it wasn’t. Both events had struck Echo with a hard blow of realization that tactics can only ensure a portion of one's safety, schematics will not prevent an invasion, one must learn to expect only that which is unexpected, and there are variables far outside any one man’s control. Lady Luck will ultimately always get to play her game…

And sadly, he’d seen too many brothers had crumple at his side, their torches snuffed in a fraction of a blink, many of them with packs and pouches full of treats that they’d won in a game the previous night. Why is it that Luck had caressed them then, only to fatally betray them hours later? 

No, his betting days were behind him… and then there was you.   

Now? He’d have bet everything he ever owned that your hair was the softest the universe had ever seen. Even after hours of fervent frolicking between the sheets, your bodies entwining with the desperate desire to reacquaint after so many rotations apart, and each strand having been tugged, bunched, knotted and tossed in the name of a passionate routine so mesmerizing that time itself seemed to pause, it still felt like silk draped between his fingers. 

He’d have wagered every credit in the galaxy that history had never seen a hand fit more perfectly into another like yours fit into his. It was as if the Maker had initially sculpted your bodies as one, only to have it fall from Mortis and fracture, the pieces seamlessly fitting together to reestablish his physical rendering of love. 

And he’d have bet that, in all the systems he’d traversed, none of them orbited a sun even remotely as radiant as the twinkle in your eye. A luminescence shining from deep inside of you unrivaled by any charted celestial body; a lighthouse that he was all-too willing to let endlessly guide him into your embrace… back home. 

Definity now seemed attainable. He had never been surer of anything or anyone in his entire life, and such a certainty had been achieved without the memorization of manuals, and without the aid of instructions, tactics, or strategy. Embedded with the impenetrable protection of your belief in him, his shield now seemed the perfect match for redirecting every potential blow of Lady Luck’s unpredictable tantrums; his irrefutable love for you unwavering despite the external chaos. 

But always a double edged sword, the 'distraction' of your love ensured that the undoubtability of your union walked hand-in-hand with unpredictability… with fear and anxiety. The monster of mortality, while frequently concealed behind dense clouds of bliss and enamoring twinkles of light, was never again truly absent from Echo’s awareness, and the harrowing chirp of a deployment transmission ringing from his wristcom acted as a stark reminder that the monster was always waiting patiently for an opportunity to rob the universe of such beauty.     

“What’s on your mind, love?” you would ask in those moments, when the surging heat of your frenzied entanglement subsided and the stillness of the night exposed his resurging anxiety. But your query needn’t ever be spoken; the cause of the deepening crease between his brows and the frown tugging at his lips was a mystery to no one, and part of him wondered if you only uttered the question aloud knowing that the sound of your voice would soothe him in a way that nothing else could.

“You are, Cyare,” he would always answer, too aware that the unnatural smile hitched to his lips would provoke nothing but a skeptical cock of your eyebrow, yet too willing to deny his fear its chance in the light.   

This routine transpired only a handful of times before you’d successfully pulled the truth from him, his desire to remain a pillar of strength simply no match for the knowing twinkle in your eye, its majesty quickly summoning the anxiety from the depths of his gut and out past his lips.

The truth finally spoken: that he was scared to lose each other, to lose you, intensely fearful that every sorrowful departure preceding a deployment would be the last. His tactical mind was painfully aware that the probabilities of him safely returning home varied largely from one mission to the next, the chances laced with a risk that was incalculable… unpreparable despite his every effort.  

But even fatality seemed a welcome alternative to his greatest fear of all: that he would return home from a long deployment to find the twinkle banished from your eyes, that he would find a person no longer blind to the fact that a life built on the shoulders of a soldier was one laden with an unavoidable and potent neglect, and that you’d become a person no longer willing to suffer the solitude that accompanied his absence.  

“I’m not going anywhere, Echo,” you would always reassure him. “It’s you and me, my love. Until the end of the universe.”

The mantra never lost its purity despite how often you chorused it to him with your fingers intertwined tightly between his, or your forehead pressed to his in a motion of complete connection, but tonight felt… different. Despite your recited promise and the intimate swaddle of your body around his, Echo could not shake the feeling of dread simmering in his gut. 

“What is it?” you probed in barely more than a whisper, your hands stalling their thoughtless swirls atop his skin, fingers instead nestling themselves between the swells of his heaving chest. 

“Nothing, Mesh’la.” He couldn’t quite quantify the intensity of his anxieties tonight, for even unspoken they seemed baseless and irrational. How could he express that the gnawing of his upcoming deployment felt more formidable this time, when he knew his words would serve no purpose other than plaguing you with worry? He had no desire to let his malignant fears rob you of the listful peace that he so badly longed for in these moments. 

You hummed quietly, toes shifting to gently glide along the top of his foot, the sensation grounding him enough to tighten his grasp around your shoulders. “I’m not going to call you a liar,” you snorted as you nuzzled into his side, “but it kinda smells like your pants might be on fire.” 

He should have expected such a response; you’d always been quick to wit, quick to humour, quick to ensure that, even in the enshadowed bedroom where the only light came from the patchwork quilt of a million other windows scattered from here to the horizon, he felt utterly seen. 

A small sigh stalled his explanation, his plagued mind still attempting to grapple for some semblance of justification. “I don’t know,” he posed, pausing to press his lips to your forehead, the familiar fragrance of your hair wafting into his nose easing only a fraction of his worry. “Something feels… weird. I can’t shake the feeling that something is going to go amiss during this next one.” 

“Sounds like a bad case of the ‘send-off scaries’,” you chuckled, shifting your head on his shoulder to watch your fingers resume their mindless doodles across his skin.

“No, Mesh’la,” he protested, the ghost of misunderstood frustration dancing across his tense features as he retracted his arm from around you and pushed himself into a seated position. “It’s more than that, but… I can’t explain it.” 

You shifted your posture to mirror his, scooping his hands into yours and squeezing his palms tightly to prevent him from shielding his face. “Perhaps it’s because this one is a little riskier than some of the others?” you proposed, trying to catch the eyes that he’d deliberately averted from you. “You were saying the Citadel is pretty heavily fortified, right? Maybe it’s the fact that the archive maps are dated and incomplete that has you a little more anxious than usual.” 

“Yeah… maybe,” he sighed solemnly, only barely resisting the urge to shake his head and argue.  

“You and Fives are an unshakable team,” you persisted. “Especially with Rex and the General beside you. You all have an innate call to protect each other. Just have faith… trust your instincts. They’ve never led you astray, my love. In fact–” a gentle guiding finger under his chin pulled his anguished gaze back to you, “–they led you right to me.” 

There it was, dancing in your eyes as if fueled by starlight, the twinkle that reminded him time-and-time-again that nothing could rob him of his home… of his home in you.

“You’re right, Cyare,” he conceded, leaning in to graze his smiling lips against yours. “I love you. It’s you and me to the end of the universe.” 

No, he wasn’t anymore… but if he was a betting man, that lingering moment of quiet assurances with breath dancing atop each other's cheeks and lips moving to convey an unspoken message, he’d have wagered that the very stars aligned the night he met you. He’d have bet there wasn’t a force anywhere in this galaxy stronger than his connection to you… and you can bet that if only an ounce of his courage remains intact when he returns home from that wretched fortress, the first place you’ll find him is in your doorway, perched on one knee with a ring in his hand and a plea in his eyes. You can bet that, if Lady Luck’s cold shoulder ever robbed you of each other, his love for you, and only you, would be a promise more steadfast and unwavering than time itself.

taglist: @anxiouspineapple99 @sinfulsalutations

[spirit-lanterns]

the fact you don’t write non-con or rape? I wanna smooch u 💋💋💋💋

That sounds like the bare minimum but I’ll take the smooch anyways 😌

I have nothing against writers who write dark content or readers who enjoy dark content, I just personally really dislike it so I’d never write for it nor reblog fics with it. Consent is seggsy and I love consent 💕💕

[ncsdlr]

Sandra Pransky - S.J Character

MDNI!! Smut 18+

Warnings: Some crazy seggsy time, Angst(?), Happy ending, x fem!reader, cheating (please don't cheat on people), getting arrested, think that's it ;)

Pairings: Sandra Pransky x fem!reader

Word Count: 1948

AN: I need to get this out of my drafts. it was starting to decay in there.

****

"Holy fucking God!" Sandra's legs stuttered close around your head before shakily opening back up with the help of your strong hands. Her fingers curled around your hair, pulling every so often, too consumed by the pleasure you were gifting her to emit anything else other than incoherent praises and pathetic moans.

You groaned when Sandra pulled at your hair a little too roughly, the pain and pleasure bringing an ache to your core which then made your upgraded strap-on twitch. "I'm cumming! I'm cumming!"

"Yeah? You coming, baby?" Sandra nodded her head rapidly, squeaking out a breath of 'Yes' when you suddenly pushed your fingers into her core. "Then cum. Cum on my face."

At your command, Sandra let herself cover the entirety of your face with her delicious cum. Your tongue randomly lapped at her tattered core, making the girl above you writhe and pull you up by your hair all the while her legs shook at your sides. You kissed her in earnest, slowing down the previously fast pace of your fingers drilling into her core.

Then all of a sudden, Sandra let out a breathy yelp as you pulled her hips up and flipped her onto her stomach. "Think you can take my cock, little girl?"

"Oh, yes, please." You pulled her head up in an awkward position to look at you with one hand while your other hand dug the rubber dick along the blonde's slick cunt. Swiftly, you pushed your hips forward, burying your girthy strap within Sandra's soaking depths. Your pace was tough and fast, but gentle at the same time. The blonde woman was loving every second of this, the knowledge bring a cocky smirk to your lips. "I think someone's enjoying herself."

"You fucking bet." Your Sandra gasped as your fingers toyed with her clit from beneath her, her head going limp and falling forward into the sheets. Every push and pull of your hips made the blonde in your bed moan louder into the thick-aired room.

You reached forward and grab a fistful of your Sandra's hair, pulling her up with that leverage to husk in her ear, fucking her slowly now, but not pulling out, just humping and grinding into her, "You're such a fucking whore. Filthy girl, nothing but a little cock-hungry slut for me, aren't you?" You felt the slight pull-away Sandra did with her head, indicating her nodding in response to your question that did nothing to stop the continuous gush of wetness at her stretched hole. "Oh, baby. You're going to have to speak up for me to understand what you're saying. I mean, you do remember our playtime rules, right, baby?"

Sandra's eyes rolled to the back of her head as she mewled when your strap hit that spot inside her that had her reeling in pleasure and teetering at the edge of her orgasm, then rushing to speak as she somewhat remembered her duty to respond to your tauntingly unnecessary questions.

"Yes, yes! Your cock-hungry slut, your slut, yours only- holy, I'm gonna cum. Can I cum?" Sandra's shaky way of asking you for permission to cum had you groaning under your breath. You almost took pity on her when she whined at your lack of response, already cursing you in her head for being so unfair.

Why should she have to reply to you verbally when you rarely ever did to her?

But alas, being the good girl she is, she begged you for what she knew she deserved.

"Please, please! Let me cum, please!"

"On the count of ten, mon amour."

You heard her whine before she next spoke in a whispered plea, "Please, count fast." You darkly chuckled at her and pushed her face into the pillow before her when you began rubbing tighter, pleasurable circles on her throbbing clit, now doing sharp pull-outs then thrusting back in quickly.

"Ten." you extended the 'e', emphasizing the fact that you were not to comply with Sandra's pleas, the action only making Sandra's need to cum more intense.

"Please, Y/N!" Her almost whispered begging made you coo at her.

"Oh, baby. You're adorable." You continued your countdown, only reaching to six when the blonde next whined at your aggravatingly slow counting.

"Please, please, please! I feel like if you don't let me cum anytime soon I'll explode."

"We can't have that, now can we?" She whispered a bold no. "Five, four, three, two-"

You fondled Sandra's soft breasts as you counted down to one and felt her shudder with a loud scream once her orgasm tore right through her.

"You fuck me so good, Y/N." You felt how Sandra slightly went limp in your arms, so you resorted to pushing her head down on the sheets and continuing to fuck her.

Your thrusts reached deep into the blonde, slow and shallow. "You wanna be a good girl and let me fuck you until you use your safe word, honey?"

"Yes, yes, please. I wanna be a good girl- Oh!" Your thrusts became fast, more hasty, and hurried than your once slow pace thus catching Sandra off guard. You muttered out praise to Sandra whilst you ran your hands up and down her back as if a way to soothe the close-to-sobbing girl. You then gripped her hips, using that leverage to pull her back against your thrusts.

Sandra was near sobbing as she came once more with an almost whisper of your name. She sighed as you harshly twisted her body to lay on her back. You dove into her pussy, lapping at all that was there, causing the beauty above you to moan brutally.

Sandra let out a whine as you pulled away from her core, going to speak up before being cut off by a silent scream, her mouth clenching closed. Your fingers drilled into her as if searching for something you'd lost within her. You continued thrusting your fingers into the beautiful woman below you, even as she started cumming, her juices contained in your fast-moving hand.

Sandra adjusted her position, leaning on her elbows while gripping the sheets with a force that could almost rip through them. Her gaze remained on her leaking cunt, your fingers still drilling into her. Then you finally pulled your fingers out, cupping her cum as you did, watching Sandra breathe heavily.

"Open your mouth." You commanded. You watched her heave before doing as she was told, opening her mouth wide enough for you to pour her cum into her waiting mouth.

"Good girl. Now, swallow."

Sandra made a show of following your orders, opening her mouth and showing you her tongue as proof that she'd swallowed her own cum.

"You want more of that? You want to cum for me more, little girl?" Sandra nodded. "Yeah?"

"Please."

"Your such a fucking whore, Sandra. Lots would think you'd be tapping out by now. With the number of times you've cum already, most expect that you would have had enough, but no; you're different. You're such a fucking cum slut, Sandra."

You plunged your finger within her again, beginning your onslaught upon her sweet pussy.

Sandra's first few moans were loud, then as she started cumming, one right after the other, her moans turned to silent screams. Her head fell back, her mouth stayed agape, and her beautiful eyes were tightly closed. You didn't even need to tell Sandra to open her mouth this time. She simply did so, much to your appeal.

"Such an obedient little girl." You smacked both sides of her face with your cum-soaked hand knowing just how much she loved mixing pain with pleasure.

Sandra writhed as she sucked in much-needed air into her burning lungs. You leaned in to kiss her, holding her face in your hand tightly as you did so. "Oh, baby. I'm going to make you feel so good."

****

The sun was just about to set, the golden glow of the sun shining on Sandra just right from where she rode you relentlessly near the foot of the bed. Sandra had both of her hands on her knees before she moved one of them to her throbbing clit. She was panting above you, yet she strived to bounce on your cock with precision.

"Oh, baby. You look so beautiful like this." You held onto her waist tightly, controlling her relentless bouncing and guiding her up and down your strap. "So obedient. It's too bad you're too stupid for him. My dumb whore."

Sandra mewled at your degradation, but, at the same time, your words pinched her heart. She knew of your faithful and undeniable love for her yet she was still tied to her relationship with your older brother, Peter Lyman. You both knew you loved each other, but you also both knew your brother would be heartbroken if was he supposed to find out his beloved girlfriend was in love with his sister.

Y/L Lyman.

Sandra's beloved.

But neither of you could think about that right now. Because right now, Sandra was busy bouncing on your thick cock.

"Please, I'm gonna cum." Sandra shakily informed you of her current state whilst you laid there nonchalantly, only helping her ride you with your hands tightly holding her fast-moving hips.

You watched Sandra's face contort with immense pleasure, noting how her usually light green eyes now held a darker shade, how her eyes hazily remained on you, how her mouth formed a perfect circle, the way her brows furrowed while you fucked up into her.

You remained watchful, keeping your eyes on hers, watching as tears slowly made their way to her waterline and down the side of her face. "Oh, honey don't cry. I know it feels good and I know you're going to cum, but I'm gonna need you to hold that in for me."

Your faux pity on her made her whine, but obeying your orders, not wanting to push you, and find out what you might do to her if she was to push you into letting her cum.

Sandra continued to bounce with the help of your strong hands. You were simply too strong for her to control her own movements, so instead, she resorted to laying on your chest and pushing back against your thrusts. You held her close at that, having wrapped one arm around her waist and up her shoulder and the other still holding her hip, controlling her bouncing.

It felt like ages for Sandra before you allowed her to cum, and once she did, her scream was most definitely heard throughout your home. You held her as she heaved to calm herself down, rubbing her back up and down and running your fingers through her hair. Then the next moment when she spoke, you were surprised, to say the least.

"I'm leaving him. I want you."

****

You watched from the doorstep of your brother's private lakeside home as he was pulled away into a cop car beside a soaked Sandra. You had your hands in your pockets as you stared on while the current affairs took place. Your eyes followed the cop car as it drove away with Peter inside, then moved your focus to the officer who handed Sandra a towel to wrap around herself.

"That must suck for him."

You peered at the blonde beside you, the one who loosely wrapped her arms around you, "Truly. So, does this mean you're finally wholly mine?"

"Yes, Y/N. I'm yours wholly. No more restraints." Your Sandra smiled at you in the sweetest way and you could almost swear that you fell in love with Sandra more at that moment. And after a beat for a second, you admitted to yourself that you have always been in love with the woman. Ever since you met her when your brother introduced you to each other.

"I love you, Sandra."

"My Y/N, I love you too."

[aitarose]

SEVEN AM (T. OIKAWA) ⤷ pairing: oikawa tooru x fem!reader

synopsis: between wrinkled bedsheets and lost undergarments, the evening of your dreams is one of a living nightmare—you, alone in a simple bed without its king. 

word count: 1.2k

genre: fuck boi!tooru, best friend!reader, one night stand, one-sided pining, angsty angst

warnings: extremely suggestive content, swearing, slight obsession, brief mentions of intercourse :( but not fully descriptive bc i’m a minor haha ok

24 hours collab masterpost

notes: for bby ly’s (@kyotarou) collab that i already forgot the name of oopsie brb OK it’s called the 24 hours collab aha aha there we go. also half of this takes place at like midnight umm chile anyways

It’d been a spur-of-the-moment decision, something that you’d relived over and over again within the constructs of your own mind—but never believed would actually come true. It was the very thing that you’d wished for most in all of your months by his side, never realizing that it was right within your grasp.

The dream being just beneath your skin, hands laced together through gentle movements and breathless moans, all occurring in one single night of ecstasy. 

A night that had been, of course, proceeded by your typical evening of celebration. The excited haze of energy that followed a perfect win on the court—victory for Club Athletico San Juan, which was led by none other than their esteemed setter—your best friend, Oikawa Tooru. 

You’d walked out of the bar together after eleven PM, hand-in-hand, him swinging your palms back and forth whilst you strolled down the spaced pavements—avoiding crazed traffic and wandering strangers—heading towards your quaint apartment which sat peacefully atop the local cafe. 

One after the other, the two of you stepped inside—locking the door behind you as you dropped your abandoned shoes on the mat, having taken them off hours earlier in the midst of dancing. His hand had never left the small of your back, guiding your steps towards the cozy kitchen with a dream-like cloud floating through the air. 

You’d offered him a mug of decaffeinated coffee, turning on the machine with the muscle memory of countless similar nights, not noticing the hardness of his gaze. There had been a glint in his eyes—an expression you’d never quite seen before displayed on his features as you turned to face him, the only sound being the soft grinds of the water heater. 

There wasn’t any verbal discussion, no command that had signaled him to rush over and take your jaw between his calloused fingers. Only a split second of eye contact, both of you having the same wish in that moment—to finally know the feeling of your lips on his in an ever-seizing kiss. 

And it really had been everything you’d dreamed of. Soft and passionate, perfection in terms of intimacy—a seemingly life-changing kiss between you and your best friend. The very person you’d been falling for for years on years now. The man that you imagined yourself meeting at the end of a rose covered aisle in beautiful designer attire. 

The path from the kitchen to your bedroom hadn’t taken long to conquer, strewn clothing across the floor, like scattered treats in the woods on the way to the witches hut. A desirable sight, but also one that would inevitably lead to pain and heartbreak—and unfortunately for you, those outcomes had never crossed your mind, not even once. 

But now, as you lay awake—facing the bedroom wall in an attempt to ignore the rising sunlight—there was a physical pain in your chest. The bonds of your being snapping into two as you heard him roll out of bed, groaning at the bright rays whilst his regretful actions cycled through his mind. 

“Shit.” You heard him mumble as you turned slightly to see him run a hand through his disheveled locks. He was biting his lip, tapping his foot against the hard wood floor with his eyes on the window, staring out into the incoming horizon with reddened irises. “Shit.”

Oikawa stood, abandoning the bodily indent in the comforter and scrambling to find his clothing. It seemed as if he were more focused on the location of his belt than the status of your relationship—all the more confirming that you were nothing but another one of his flings. Another one of his famous one night stands. 

“Tooru?” You called out, sitting up with your elbows as support, a fully serious gaze falling upon his eyes of fear as his attention snapped around. “Tooru, where are you going? Do you have an early practice?”

There was a part of you that wanted to believe that he did have an excuse for trying to leave you. That there was a valid reason as to why he hadn’t held you through the morning haze, why he hadn’t pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head in an attempt to wake you softly—why he hadn’t confessed any true feelings for you in the night turned dawn?

But all of your worries were confirmed at his reaction. His usually charming cheeks were replaced with ones devoid of commitment or love, his stance being awkward and weary rather than comfortable and content in your presence. He was practically a different person. 

You didn’t know this Oikawa Tooru, you hadn’t ever known the man before you now—but all the women at the bar, the fans in the stands, girls at the beach who’d whistle in his way and send him flirty glances had always been familiar with this feeling of longing. 

It was the tone of rejection and regrets, stolen kisses that had been thrown into the bin—taken away to the sea and lost in the landfill of broken hearts and mixed emotions. He didn’t need to come up with a response to your wonders, knowing that you were smarter than his empty promises and lies. All that was needed was a pained shake of the head and the stale wake of his absence. 

Tears rained down your make-up smudged skin at the sound of the front door closing, the realization of reality setting in—the reality that he would likely never take a walk with you on your path of life again. Your streets were at one for what you wanted to be forever—but forever doesn’t always last, does it?

No, because if it did you wouldn’t be driving down the boulevard of broken dreams with an open hand—an open hand that was, for some reason, still waiting for him to come back. Still hoping with every part of your soul that he would come rushing into your arms and fall back into a peaceful slumber. 

Perhaps you could find that slumber yourself, snuggled in the cold cotton sheets of your king sized bed—which was ironically missing its king of the court. 

If there was any chance that you could find rest, lucid dream the reality that you oh-so-wished you were currently living, you’d take that opportunity. After all, what is life without the one you love? What is life if not missed connections and broken signals? What is the point of trying so hard, only to be beat down after finally getting what you wanted?

Maybe you just weren’t meant for the type of mind-blowing love you saw in the movies or on television. The lifestyle of happiness just wasn’t in your book—the dream of dancing through a fairytale was a phony pretense, as you weren’t the princess in the story, but rather the abandoned love interest instead. 

Turning the next page wouldn’t be easy for you, it would take all the mental strength in your bones—but at the sight of the parting clouds and shining sun, you knew you’d be okay. The next chapter of your story would be a good one, you were going to make sure of it—with or without him.

dedicated to my silly little beautiful baka @gellysticks​. you’re such a silly goose you silly little goose you

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