#he woke up at a bit last six

[hello-delicious-tea]

DIAPER FREE NIGHT FOR BABYTEA WITH NO ACCIDENTS!!!

[seungkw1]

love me right — ksy

♡ pairing: roommate!hoshi x afab!reader ♡ theme: smut [18+ mdni], humor ♡ wc: 4.1k ♡ warnings: oral (f. & m. receiving), unprotected piv sex (do not do this), multiple orgasms, a lil spit play, head pushing, thigh riding, somnophilia, cum eating/swallowing, cumming in pants, like 2 seconds of angst, praise kink, hs is down bad for reader, gendered pet names (baby, good girl, pretty girl, etc), bit of fluff at the end ♡ a/n: this is part 2 to make me !! finally got this written hope yall like <3

Ever since you sort-of-accidentally had sex with your roommate for the first time, he’s been nothing but a fucking menace. 

Not in a bad way - no, despite the fact that he's kind of an actual insane person he's always been and continues to be a very considerate and agreeable roommate. There's no problem with your living arrangements. 

The problem is how fucking insatiable he has become. 

You previously never thought there could be such a thing as too many orgasms, but Soonyoung really is testing your limits. You've never had so much sex in your life - and you're not mad about it by any means. But your roommate-turned-friend with benefits is absolutely, utterly, wholeheartedly obsessed with having his entire face buried in your pussy at all possible times. And you love every second of it. 

Sure, sometimes your clit kinda feels like it's gonna fall off. Most of the time you've barely recovered from the last set of two, three, four orgasms (the current record is six, a record he's determined to beat) before he’s back between your legs again. But the constant cunnilingus leaves you more sensitive than ever before - and the more you squirm beneath his tongue and scream and cry as he takes you to paradise, the more it gets him off. One time you were wailing his name so much that he actually came in his pants, fully hands-free. The man simply worships you. 

You've had various kink-related conversations over the past couple months of nonstop boinking, as these things come up. You wouldn't necessarily say Soonyoung is into anything too crazy (besides the occasional burst of tiger roleplay, anyway), but so far he's been enthusiastically down for everything you've expressed interest in. He’s the very definition of matching one’s freak. 

“You know what would be hot?” Soonyoung asks you one day, approximately two minutes after you woke up and emerged from your room.

“Good morning to you too,” you tell him through a sleepy yawn.

“What if,” he continues anyway, “hypothetically, I were to wake you up one day by eating you out?”

“Soonyoung is it nine in the morning,” you reply as you give him a dull glare. You go to make yourself a cup of coffee, but he extends a full mug to you. You take the cup - it’s fresh, piping hot. 

“Oh, thanks,” you say, surprised by the kind gesture.

“So?” he prods, eagerly awaiting your reply.

“I mean, yeah, I wouldn’t be mad about that,” you answer with a small shrug.

“NOICE,” he exclaims, pumping his fist in the air.

“BUT-” you quickly add. “That cannot be an everyday thing.”

“Right, of course not,” he agrees with a nod. “Soooo, when can I try it?”

“Well, I can’t tell you that,” you reply straightforwardly. “It’s supposed to be a surprise, that would like, defeat the whole point.”

A wide grin spreads across his face, but he shakes it off right away, playing it cool. 

“Okay cool, well I’ll keep that in mind,” he says, grabbing your hand and shaking it vigorously. “Pleasure doing business with you.”

You roll your eyes at him. 

“You’re so fucking stupid,” you gibe, but your face cracks into a smile. He pulls you in and kisses you. 

“Love you too.”

You freeze. 

You may have been intimate with him more times than you can count, but your relationship is strictly casual. You only kiss when you're fucking, and the words I love you have never once been uttered by either of you. You know he probably was saying it facetiously, but the way he said it was so nonchalant. So… realistic. You stare at him for a second, not knowing how to respond. His smile slowly drops. 

“Oh, sorry,” he apologizes. His ears immediately turn red with embarrassment. 

“No no it’s fine,” you babble, trying to backtrack. “I just wasn't expecting…”

“I was just kidding,” he responds. Then his eyes widen. “I mean not like that, it's not that-”

“It’s fine!!” you quickly interject before he can say anything else. “I know what you mean.”

“Sorry,” he murmurs again. He suddenly realizes he's still holding onto your hand - he swiftly lets go. 

“Thanks for the coffee,” you tell him politely with a smile, trying to change the subject. 

“Of course,” he replies, trying to smile back at you, but you can tell he's still sulky. He departs from the kitchen without saying another word. He emerges from his room about a minute later in athletic gear, his gym bag slung over his shoulder. 

“Off to workout already? I thought you were going this afternoon” you inquire, but he's already breezing past you. 

“Yeah, Mingyu just texted me and wanted to meet earlier,” he answers as he grabs his keys. 

It’s a bad lie, and you both know it. But you don't press him further. 

“Okay, have fun!” you say cheerfully. But an air of tension remains. 

“Thanks,” he replies, turning back to glance at you for only a brief second. 

“Hey,” you say softly. “Soonyo-”

He's out the door before you have a chance to finish even saying his name. 

You stand there for a few moments, staring at the front door, wondering if you've just fucked everything up. You didn't mean to, of course. You were just so taken aback by the stupid L word. It's not something you ever expected to hear coming from Soonyoung’s lips, not about you anyways. But now it has you thinking. Was he simply joking around? Or does he actually have… feelings for you?

A small blip of a thought enters your mind: and do you have feelings for him?

You push it away before you can think about it any further. 

The next few days are undoubtedly a bit awkward. Soonyoung is clearly avoiding you - not in a malicious way, but he just so happens to have business elsewhere whenever you're at home. 

You're mildly annoyed, but more so you're feeling gloomy about the whole situation. You never meant to do anything to push him away - near-constant fucking aside, Soonyoung truly is a good friend. And now you find yourself missing him. 

After an entire week of this nonsense, you decide to confront him. You pretend to be going to sleep, anticipating that he’ll spend some time alone in the common area. A few minutes later your hunch is confirmed when you hear the tv come on, its volume low. You quietly open your door and sneak into the living room. You approach the couch slowly from behind - when you arrive at it, you jump around and plop down next to Soonyoung. 

“FUCK,” he yelps, nearly jumping out of his seat.  “You scared me!”

“I'm horny,” you tell him bluntly, scooting up next to him. “Let me suck your dick.”

Soonyoung stares at you, looking into your eyes that are now mere inches from his. You can tell he desperately wants to say yes, but he resists. You give him a flirty look, trying to entice him. 

“Pleaseeeee?”

“Well, I was gonna watch a movie…” his sentence trails off, unfinished. He tries to shift his focus away from you, but his eyes keep flickering back to yours. 

“Seriously?” you ask, crossing your arms. “Since when do you turn down head?” 

“Y/n…”

You wait for him to continue, but he doesn't. 

“Yes?”

He looks you in the eyes again, then sighs. 

“I dunno, I’m just not in the mood right now,” he finally answers. He looks away sullenly. 

“Are you okay?”

He looks back at you. He clearly wants to tell you something, but he hesitates. 

“About the other day…” he finally speaks. He pauses, in case you have something to say. You don’t; he continues.

“I didn't mean to make things weird. When I said that I loved you.”

“You didn't,” you assure him. You note that he didn’t say anything about it not being true, but you try to ignore that right now. 

You take his hand in yours, patting it softly. He looks at you, surprised by the gesture. 

“I was being weird, that's on me.”

His mood cautiously lightens. “You sure?” he verifies. 

“100%,” you say with a nod. He smiles at you. 

“Now will you please put your dick in my mouth?” you request again, looking into his eyes seductively.  

A smile creeps onto his face. 

“I mean if you're gonna be this fucking hot…”

You give him a mischievous smirk. You tug at his tshirt; he immediately takes it off. He groans as you grab his dick through his sweatpants, his cock starting to harden instantly in response. One thing about Soonyoung - you can do the bare minimum and he’ll have a boner within five seconds. You lick your lips, stroking him slowly through the soft gray fabric. He lets out a deep exhale, relieved by your touch - it had only been a week, but he missed you badly. He craved your touch, craved how insane you make him feel. He drops his head back, his legs spreading as he settles into the couch, shifting his pelvis up so you have full access to his groin. You rub your hand over the thick bulge, squeezing and pulling lightly, causing him to let out a pathetic-sounding moan. He is putty in your hands. 

About a minute more of your over-the-pants handjob and Soonyoung is rock fucking hard. You slide off the couch, taking to your knees between his spread thighs. You pull at the elastic waistband, tugging it down over the pulsating bulge in his underwear. You place your mouth on him through the fabric, letting him feel your lips, your hot breath on him. 

“Stop teasing me,” he begs after you plant several more kisses on his clothed dick. “Please.”

You gaze up at him, your eyes filled with lust. You reach into his underwear, retrieving his cock, prompting further pathetic moaning. He is leaking with precum - you take him in your fist, stroking up and down at a pace that he finds painfully slow. You place your lips atop the head, lightly sucking up his juices. He cries out as you then swirl your tongue over his tip.

“Aaaah,” he groans, his voice turning gravelly.

You grab his balls and take the rest of the head into your mouth. You hollow your cheeks as you begin sucking on it slowly - each motion of your lips long and drawn out. Saliva accumulates in the back of your mouth - and an overwhelming wetness accumulates in your underwear.

You draw your head back, gazing up at Soonyoung submissively. You collect your saliva, spitting it onto his cock - it trickles downwards. Wrapping your hand around his girth you spread it over his full length, coating his cock with your spit. 

“Oh wow,” he mutters, nearly going cross eyed. You take his cock in your mouth once more, swallowing more and more of him until his entire length is down your throat. 

“Goddamn baby,” he growls as you bottom out. You begin to bob your head, sucking him off. The sounds being made right now are grotesque - slurping and gagging from you, moaning and grunting from him. But it's only turning you on even more. 

“Ohh that's a good girl,” he grumbles as he pets your hair. You increase your pace - saliva coats your lips, dripping down your chin, spreading across your face. The utterly sloppy head has Soonyoung writhing beneath you, babbling unintelligibly as his orgasm draws near. 

“Feels so good baby.” 

“Fuck you’re so hot.”

“Pretty girl sucking my cock so good right now.” 

His other hand ventures to your head, holding you down as his hips jerk and shake. Your throat aches from him fucking it, your eyes well with tears - but your clit throbbing against the stickiness that has flooded your panties proves how much you fucking love this. 

“Ohhhhhmygoddddd,” he groans through gritted teeth. “Fuuuuck, y/n… I’m gonna cum…”

He pushes your head down as he releases, giving you several hard thrusts as his cum spurts down your throat. You let him fill you up, eagerly swallowing each burst of his load. His hips slow as his climax wanes. His arms plop onto the couch cushions, his body sinking into the sofa as his body relaxes. He drags one hand to your face, grasping your jaw gently as he slowly pulls you off of his sensitive throbbing cock. He wants to look at you so bad, see that pretty little face with those pretty swollen lips covered in both your juices - but his energy is too drained to even lift his head. 

“C’mere,” he pleads softly. 

You pull yourself back up onto the couch, pressing your body closely against his. You lay your head on his shoulder as your fingertips delicately trace up and down his cock - it pulsates at your touch. 

He turns his head to face you, his nose brushing up against yours. He lifts one hand, tenderly cradling your cheek. 

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, his voice low and husky. 

You feel a pang deep in your stomach. You've been scared to admit it this whole time, but at this point it's undeniable: you are falling in love with your roommate. And god do you want to kiss him. 

“Yes,” you whisper, the word hot and breathy against his lips lingering before yours. 

Soonyoung grabs your face with both hands, pulling you deep into his kiss. His lips hungrily lock onto yours, his body stilling except for his chest, rising and falling with slow, heaving breaths. He kisses you, and kisses you, and kisses you, holding you tightly, refusing to allow any physical space between you two. You want to stay here for all of eternity.

Slowly, your mouths part - he gives your bottom lip a few more tugs before letting go. His forehead rests against yours, both of you exhaling deeply in tandem. His hands drop to your waist, touching you gently as the warmth of his breath greets your face. He looks into your eyes as he holds you. 

“Can I sleep with you tonight?”

You nod. Quickly tucking his remaining erection back into his sweats, he takes your hands and pulls you up with him, kissing you with each step as you stumble together into your room. You plop onto your bed, pulling Soonyoung on top of you. He rolls over, holding you snugly against him, your legs tangling together as he starts making out with you again. Your aching cunt presses against his thigh as you wrap your legs around him; you begin to grind your hips slowly.

“Wait,” he pauses. He reaches for your shorts, sliding your pajamas and panties off of you. You kick them the rest of the way off, discarding them somewhere on the bed, your shirt quickly joining them. He yanks his own pants off; you straddle his thigh again, your soaked cunt greeting his skin. 

“Oh my god,” he groans. “It’s so fucking wet.”

Your hips begin again, dragging your pussy up and down his thigh, your juices spreading everywhere. You whimper at the stimulation, riding Soonyoung’s thick muscular quads as he wraps his arms around your torso. You cling to him as he draws you in close, his mouth wandering to your neck to plant a string of small kisses on the delicate skin. Ceaseless moans escape you as a fire builds in your gut, the burning pleasure of your climax rapidly approaching. 

“Fuck I’m gonna cum,” you cry out as you frantically get yourself off on Soonyoung’s thigh. You feel his cock growing hard again - it presses into your belly as it strains against the fabric of his underwear. 

“Cum for me babe,” his low voice speaks softly into your ear. 

Desperately grinding your pussy on his thigh, you finally release. You scream his name as you cum, legs trembling as your body shakes with vigor. Soonyoung holds you tight, kissing your cheek lovingly as you orgasm in his arms. 

“That's my girl,” he murmurs as he kisses your lips. You begin to come down, but your head is still spinning from the overwhelming stimulation. You try to catch your breath, slowing your breathing as Soonyoung rubs your back - but his touch and the warmth of his body sends you into a deep state of relaxation. He whispers something else to you, but before you can even process what he's saying, you are fast asleep. 

You’re awoken the next morning by loud, moaning cries.

Still half asleep, you begin to register a familiar bodily sensation. Only when you pry your eyes open and see Soonyoung situated between your legs, do you realize you’re the one moaning. His face is buried in your pussy, licking you slowly, tasting you, savoring every moment of having his tongue in your cunt. 

He lifts his eyes, noticing that you’re now conscious.

“Soonyoung what the fu- ohhh,” you question, but are cut off by his lips attaching themselves to your clit. 

“Good morning beautiful,” he mumbles into your cunt, refusing to take his mouth of you for a second. 

“Oh my god,” you groan. “I forgot I told you you could do this.”

He pauses, looking up at you. 

“Do you want me to stop-”

“NO,” you shout, louder than you meant. You lift your hips, putting your folds back in his mouth. He smiles into your cunt, eagerly resuming eating you out.

“Good,” he replies, barely audible as his tongue begins working into your hole again. 

Your back arches as his nose presses into your clit, making it throb desperately. He flattens his tongue, licking you all the way up, then swirling around the sensitive bud. 

“Ahhh,” you cry out involuntarily. “You’re gonna make me cum already.”

This only eggs him on further. He wraps his arms around your thighs, grasping you tightly as the tip of his tongue quickly flicks over your clit.

“How- fuck, how long have you been down there?”

He glances up at you again, sticking his tongue out exaggeratedly as he continues licking you. 

“I dunno, like five minutes maybe.”

“Five?!” you proclaim as your head falls back onto the pillow. You run your fingers through his hair. “That’s it?”

Soonyoung smirks, planting several kisses on your pussy. 

“You were already soaking wet when I got here,” he informs you. “Must’ve been dreaming about me.”

“Oh shut the fuck up,” you pretend to be annoyed with him, but the moans escaping from your lips undermine your facade. 

“C’mon, you like it,” he teases.

“Yeah,” you admit. “I do.”

He grins widely. “Good girl.”

His praise and the way his tongue is now circling your clit send you over the edge. You whine as your orgasm approaches - loud, pathetic sounds filling the air as he sucks and slurps between your thighs. 

“Don’t stop,” you beg. 

The sensation builds and builds, making you squirm beneath him as every nerve in your body erupts with overwhelming delight.

“Oh fuck- I’m cumming,” you shriek as you reach your high. You cum on his tongue, long and hard - riding out your orgasm on his face accompanied by loud, unabashed cries of pleasure. As your body starts to relax, you release the tight grip you didn’t realize you had on his hair, stroking his head as he softly laps up your release. 

“Come here,” you tell him softly, but he doesn’t move. He seems to be even more relaxed than you are right now.

“Just a second,” he responds through deep breaths, his body sinking into the bed.

“Oh my god, did you…”

“Cum in my pants again?” he finishes your question for you. “Yeah. I did.”

He lifts his head, his eyes glazed over in post-orgasm bliss. 

“You’re so hot, I couldn’t help it,” he says with an amused grin.

Finally able to move, he rises - his underwear visibly filled with cum. He crawls back up to you, plopping onto his back right beside you. He peels the ruined underwear off, tossing them aside, then stares down at his own mess.

“Lemme just, um…” 

He goes to get up, intending to go clean himself off, but you pull him back onto the bed.

“I got it.”

You scoot yourself down, positioning your face near his groin. Slowly you begin to lick his own cum off of him.

“Jesus fuck, y/n,” he groans, his voice deep and low. “You’re filthy.”

“Don’t act like you don’t think this is hot.”

“Oh I do,” he says proudly. “Very fucking hot.”

He strokes your hair as you clean him up. As you finish he pulls you back up, laying you on top of him as he wraps his arms around you once more. Both of you are sweaty, and the embrace is nearly too warm - but neither of you want to move. 

You lay there in silence, your head tucked comfortably into his shoulder, peacefully listening to the songbirds chirping as warm morning sunlight filters into the room through the blinds. Soonyoung is breathing so steadily that you think he's fallen asleep underneath you, but eventually you hear your name softly muttered from his lips. 

“Hey, y/n?”

“Hmm?” you reply sleepily without moving. Soonyoung caresses your back, dragging his fingertips gently up and down over the soft skin. 

“What are we?”

You lift your head, propping yourself up by your elbow. You look down at Soonyoung - he gazes up at you, waiting for your response.

“I don’t know,” you answer after thinking for a moment. “What do you want us to be?”

He reaches for your face, stroking your cheek gently. 

“I wasn’t lying the other day.” He stares into your eyes. Despite the fact that he literally just had his face buried in your pussy, it feels overwhelmingly intimate. Your stomach churns anxiously.

“I really do love you.”

You knew he was going to say it, but your heart skips a beat anyway. Hearing him say it out loud, hearing him confess his love to you - it’s a thought that previously scared you. But you no longer fear confronting this reality. Now that you’re here, it feels comfortable, it feels right. 

“I’m sorry if that makes things weird between us, but it’s the truth,” he says timidly. “I just can’t deny it any longe-”

You cut him off with a kiss. 

You kiss him for far too long - but it’s never long enough. When your lips part at last, you gaze at him lovingly, a big, cheesy grin growing upon your face.

“I love you too, dummy.”

He stares back at you, mouth agape. He finally processes your words, his face lighting up with excitement.

“Really??” he asks you in awe. 

“Really really,” you nod.

He embraces you with explosive enthusiasm, making you yelp as he rolls over on top of you. You giggle as he gives you a series of rapidly-placed kisses all over your face. 

“Stop itttt,” you cry through your laughter. “That tickles!”

“Sorry,” he says with a big goofy smile. “I’m just really excited.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” you say as you grab his boner that has quickly returned.

He beams at you. “What can I say, you make my dick happy.”

“God, you’re such a dork,” you tell him as you roll your eyes. But you guide his tip to your entrance, shifting your hips to take him inside you.

“Ohh fuuuuck,” he mumbles, his eyes rolling back into his head. He starts slowly sliding his overstimulated cock into you, grunting when his whole length is inside. He rests, unmoving.

“You good?” you ask him.

“Yeah, just trying not to cum immediately,” he says, grinning.

“Soonyoung, you are crazy.”

“Crazy for you,” he says with a kiss. 

You spend the rest of the day in bed together, making out, fucking, napping - anything, so long as you don’t have to leave his side. Soonyoung, being Soonyoung, tells you he loves you no fewer than 12 more times.

“So,” he asks as you intertwine your fingers with his, holding hands after he goes down on you for probably the fourth time today. “Does this mean I can call you my girlfriend now?”

You try to answer, but you’re trying to catch your breath after your millionth orgasm. 

“Hmmmm?” he pesters.

“Gimme a… fucking second…” you mumble, pushing him away playfully. He gets right back in your face.

“I’m not hearing no…” he says, kissing your nose.

“Oh my god, yes, Soonyoung. The answer is yes.”

He grins from ear to ear, then wraps his entire body around yours, clinging to you like a koala.

“Yayyyy!" he replies as he nuzzles his face into you. 

“You know,” he says after a few moments of silence. “I’m pretty hungry…”

“You better mean real food this time,” you tell him sternly. “I don’t think I could handle any more orgasms today.”

“Yes, real food,” he chuckles. “Shall I order delivery from that Thai place you like?”

“Yes please, I’m fucking starving.”

“You got it, baby.”

[rosyblooom]

could you please do lando and a stem girl who goes to uni but has a private life please

they don't know about us | ln4 smau

pairing: lando norris x private fem computer science major!reader a/n: this took me forever but hope u still like :) also, if you've got requests could u add if you want it to be smau or fic pls <3

Instagram

landonorris posted to his story!

[ caption: Mind you, I just woke up... ]

[ tagged: yourusername ]

Twitter

Instagram

landonorris posted to his story!

[ caption 1: 🕒✈️ ] [ caption 2: miami 👋 ]

[ tagged: yourusername ]

yourusername posted to her story!

[ caption 1: shoutout to the inventor of coffee i owe u big time🙏 ] [ caption 2: uhm i was just going to rest my eyes for 2 minutes?? good morning i guess💀 ]

f1gossip

liked by username, username, username and 12,057 others

f1gossip Y/N L/N, current girlfriend of Lando Norris, has been photographed arriving at the paddock for today's Miami GP.

Y/N's presence comes as a bit of a surprise, considering she was absent during practice and qualifying sessions, and rarely attends races. Speculation about a potential breakup has been rampant, but her appearance suggests that there might not be trouble in paradise after all... 👀

view all 793 comments

username she always looks so classy and put-together, i'm obsessed <33

username no bc am i the only who has no problem with her only attending a few races a year? some ppl don't have time to jet off across the globe 24/7 like

username it's the fact that they literally travelled to miami together and she still didn't go to quali or practice😐 the other wags do it, why can't she?

username i just know lando had to beg her to come smh

username why are y'all so rude omg?? some ppl are introverts...

username when you're in the public eye, you don't get to be "introverted"🙃 username that's an insane take wtf?

username GUYS i think she's a uni student cause peep lando's story a few days ago🧐 that explains why she's never at gps

username so? i'm a senior and i went to the aus gp this year username okay... do you want a cookie ?

username if a wag is at all races she's fame-hungry, and if she doesn't she's unsupportive like make up y'all's minds pls 🙄

Twitter

Instagram

yourusername posted to her story!

[ caption: YOU DID IT!!! HE DID IT!!! MY BABY IS AN F1 WINNER OMFGGG🥹🥳👏 you deserved this so so much, i'm sooo proud of you ❤️❤️❤️ ]

[ tagged: landonorris ]

Twitter

Instagram

landonorris

liked by yourusername, _aarava, martingarrix and 2,005,872 others

landonorris Memories for life ❤️

view all 5,947 comments

username aw the 5th pic🥹

username do you think number six is y/n??👀 username 100%

username 🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡

username LANDO NOW WINS IKTRRRRR‼️🤩

username ofc y/n couldn't even be bothered to comment... and the most unsupportive wag award goes to y/n l/n!! congrats hun x

username y'all are weird YOU DON'T KNOW THESE PPL!! username it's the 'be kind' in ur bio for me miss gurl 🤡

username best day ever 🤧

lewishamilton 👏👏👏

(liked by author)

riabish sooo happy!!!

(liked by author)

username not ria being more of a gf then y/n oop username thanks for being such a good friend to lando, we love you💖

username next goal: beome world champion 👀👀

username yessirrrr

yourusername posted to her story!

[ caption 1: back to reality 💔 ] [ caption 2: jkjk it's not that bad, i don't cry nearly as much as i did in first year 🙂‍↕️☝️ ]

[ tagged: yourbestfriend, yourfriend + more ]

harvard

liked by yourusername, username, username and 29,063 others

harvard Final projects, theses, dissertations, and more! Check out what these soon-to-be graduates explored in some of their last assignements on campus.

Y/N's thesis navigated the intricate relationship between privacy and secure multi-party computation, enhancing data analysis while safeguarding sensitive information.

2. Steve's environmental science project examined urban development's impact on local biodiversity, providing insights for sustainable urban planning.

3. Nya's dentistry research poster explored new methods to improve dental implant success, promising better patient outcomes and oral healthcare.

—

We are celebrating the extraordinary members of the Class of #Harvard24 🎓

view all 127 comments

username 👏👏👏

username Awesome!

username Very good! Congrats to all these students!!💪

username wait am i tripping or is this y/n as in lando's gf y/n???😳 btw my biggest dream is to go to harvard in '26 !!!! 💕

username 😍😍

username streets are saying y/n goes to harvard so i had to come check and omg??😩

username no bc wag AND harvard girly?? just looked at myself and sighed fr... username now i feel bad for talking shit🫤

Twitter

Instagram

yourusername posted to her story!

[ caption 1: pulling an all-nighterrrr 😁 ] [ caption 2: nevermind, lando just made me promise to get some sleep :( ]

A few months later...

Instagram

yourusername posted to her story!

[ caption 1: couldn't ask for better shoulders to cry on srsly 🙂‍↕️ WE DID IT MY LOVESSS 🎓❤️❤️ ] [ caption 2: this us? 😏 (corny, i know...) ]

[ tagged: yourbestfriend, yourfriend + more ]

lando.jpg

liked by daniel3.jpg, yourusername, carlossainz55 and 847,903 others

tagged: yourusername

lando.jpg 🍾🎓❤️

view all 4,037 comments

username a win for women iktr 😌

username wow i'm so happy for her omg 🫶🫶 (jealous too but mostly happy loolol)

username LMAO are we the same person?

carlossainz55 👏👏👏

username now she has no excuse anymore

username if lando's completely happy with it all, why the hell are u upset? 🤡

username 2024 really gave us lando's first ever win and now this?? we love to see it 😍

yourusername ❤️❤️

(liked by author)

username we love you y/n <333 username i hope you'll be able to attend more races from now on!! i love seeing you in the paddock 💕

username the way i still haven't fully processed the fact that harvard gave her a shoutout goddamn🤯

usernmae not you calling that a shoutout bye💀💀

username AAHHHH YAYY CONGRATS Y/N YOU'RE DOING AMAZING SWEETIE 🤍🤍🤍🤍

0:33 ───ㅇ───────── 2:40

[bunny-jpeg]

you had how many kids? (141 + more)

long post - sorry!

captain john price -

the first time price sank his cock into you. it was game over. you are probably going to end up with at least six kids running around a big piece of land in the center of the british isle. equal split between three girls and three boys. the price genes must be strong because they all look like spitting images of their father.

price loves his wife though, he just thinks you're the sweetest thing since honey. after you put the kids to bed and you're in your bedroom, your darling husband can't help but hold onto you by the hips and maybe rub up against you. your softness, so motherly. it almost makes his mouth water. he tries to convince you for baby number seven but you just tell him that there's no way that's happening. but price is a cunning man and maybe a few mind blowing orgasms will change your mind.

simon 'ghost' riley -

your daughter was an accident. it was simon's last night at home before he got deployed again. and he spent that entire night sunk into your sweet cunt. you'd find out a month into his deployment that you were pregnant. worried about telling him, you kept it to yourself. you were anxious about the news throwing him off his game and him getting hurt. he needed to come home alive.

when he came home, he made sure he treated his missus right. while the pregnancy was a bit of a shock, he made sure he made up for lost time. and while that often had you on your back. it almost meant being spoiled by your husband. your daughter was close to being the biggest the hospital had delivered. you two would be content with your daughter, who took mostly after you. but within five years she would be going around proclaiming that she was going to be a big sister!

john 'soap' mactavish -

oh johnny was a smart man. he knew what he wanted and he got it with ease. he wanted to take you back home, settle you down in a night place in edinburgh. he was thinking in the stockbridge neighbourhood, where you and him could raise your kids in peace. the first time he held you in a mating press he knew that he wanted to be the father to your (many) children. he'd take care of ya, never let the mother of his children be without. he placed a sloppy kiss on your lips, a seal of his promise. you end up with two boys, only eleven months apart (the look you got from your doctor when she found out you were pregnant so soon). they were mactavish boys that was for sure. their father's dark hair and he winning smile.

johnny does want a daughter however, he imagined she'd be a spitting image of you. while he loved his boys, there was no question about that, he thought a daughter would complete your little family. curious eyes like yours, that beautiful smile. as he kissed your neck and dug his fingers into your soft hips. maybe he could convince you in a few years to try for one.

kyle 'gaz' garrick -

kyle never thought that he would've ever been a father. when he signed up for service, he didn't expect to be done with that role well beyond when it would be suitable to be a father. so your son was an accident. he could almost pinpoint the night of his conception. he was home from abroad and the two of you spent the entire night (and the following morning) becoming requited with your bodies. you giggled when he showed off his more toned muscles and his fingers got tangled in your hair. his dark eyes felt familiar, like home, under the soft light of your bedroom. The resulting time together produced his son.

you don't end up with a big family, while you two live in a decently sized home just outside the city he is content with it just being the three of you. he'd rather be the best parent to one then worse off to more. he was a good father to his son, proud of the little baby. even when he woke you both up at all hours of the night. it was life and kyle was happy. but when your son turned five, you had something to share with kyle. you were pregnant again. he had to admit, after that, the idea of having a few more kids wasn't a bad idea.

bonus! bonus! bonus!

phillip graves -

oh phillip wants a full house. he didn't buy that nice piece of land outside of houston for show. big yard, white picket fence, in a safe neighourhood (can't have you getting hurt!). he'd be living out his all american dream. so when you ended up pregnant five months after marriage with twins, he was beyond happy. he thought your pregnant body was beautiful, even well into your second trimester he was fucking that sweet cunt of yours. telling you how good of a mama you were.

phillip thought you were the best thing since sliced bread. even when the aches and pains of pregnancy come and go, he'd making sure that his wife is good. if he can't be around, he sends his shadows to make sure that you and the kiddos are alright. so expect a big, loving all american family. you'd never thought you'd be spending your twenties caring for almost five kids!

col. alejandro vargas -

alejandro wants you safe. and you being pregnant can cause some issues. it makes you a target, so you packed up your life and headed somewhere more quiet. most information about you was redacted from public and private records. he even went as far as to change your name and identification. it was for you, for him and for the daughter you eventually had. but despite that, when alejandro returned home. he was the shadow to your daughter. she knew who her daddy was. eventually when he can get out of the snare of the military, he was home. your little place in the middle of nowhere, he promised to protect you and your little bundle.

the times he visited while you were pregnant though. he loved to run his hands up and down your swollen middle. he smiled at you, almost proud of what he did to you. while you'd in the end have only your daughter, it was a complete home. and don't worry, after your daughter's birth he is more than willing to show how much he loved his sweet wife.

rodolfo "rudy" parra -

oh rudy, sweet rudy. he couldn't help himself. the first time you fucked, or rather made love, he knew he wanted to breed that pussy of yours. he was using a condom, but he could picture himself doing it bare backed. the feeling of your slippery cunt tight around him. nothing protecting you from accidents. he'd often daydream on his off time about the three kids you had. he had even picked names out for them, but he'd get your input on it as well. after all you were the beautiful woman who was carrying them. such a good wife to him.

he left the military when you got pregnant, as did you. life became less about the violent conflicts and more about raising your son. he was a quiet baby, and rudy adored him. he also adored his beautiful wife who worked so hard to give him his son. he reminded you of that often. you do end up with those three kids within a five year gap and rudy couldn't be happier.

könig-

oh, könig. he knew that you'd be carrying a big baby. like look at him, he towered over you and could easily bench you in your third trimester. so he wasn't expecting a whole army of children. one very large boy was enough for him. the 99th percentile. but he was there the entire time, he made sure that you were taken care of. he felt safe having his larger body up against yours, protecting it. he'd rub your belly with his large hand. even if you were very pregnant, you still were small compared to him.

he loves his son, obviously. the first time he held him, he almost cried. he was a father now. he had a wife and a child, a home to call his home and a place to feel safe. he was an attentive father, he was used to being up early. so you got to sleep in while he checked in on your son. he made sure to teach him german, english and a few of the other languages he had picked up. he was going to make sure his son knew all about the world. he was a proud father!

[motorsportbarbie13]

What's A Soulmate? - Part 1

In which something magical begins.

Warnings: none, just a bit of mutual pining. but this will be an angsty one i think. Pairing: Lando Norris X SainzSister!Reader Words: 2.6k

Master List

(a/n: new series alert! friends to lovers featuring lando norris. this one will be several parts spanning from 2019 to present day. I've tried my hardest to make sure the timeline/race results are accurate but I may have adjusted something to make it work a bit better for the story line. this is a total work of fiction, purely for entertainment.)

February 2019 

Woking, Surry, England

“This is not going to be a year of partying and laziness, Chiquita.” Carlos throws you a sidelong glance as he pulls his new McLaren into a parking spot early one February morning. “You are here with me to work, not spend your gap year playing.” 

“If I’m here to work, then you can’t me ‘little girl’ while we’re here, Carlos.” You bite back, hauling your tote bag from the floor of the low slung sports car. 

Carlos chuckles, throwing his arm around your shoulder as you both begin the walk into his new workplace: the McLaren Technology Center. “Fair enough, Chiquita.” 

Last spring, you had graduated from high school and had spent one miserable semester at the University of Madrid in the fall before dropping out just a few months ago. 

Carlos dodges the swat that you aim at his bicep, taking a few quick steps ahead of you as you approach the front door of the large white building. The sprawling MTC is an intimidating building and you knew that if you hadn’t been here with Carlos, there was no way you’d be able to find your way. 

After spending a few listless months bouncing from Carlos’ couch in Monaco back to your parent’s estate in Spain, they had laid down the law. You needed to figure out what you were going to do for the foreseeable future if going back to University wasn’t in the cards for you at the moment. They were fine with you not going back to uni right away, in fact, they encouraged you to take a gap year but they expected you to do something productive with your life while you figured out what you wanted to do. 

And that had been when your older brother had entered the chat. He had finished third year as a Formula 1 driver a few months ago and would be changing teams come the new season in March. In December, he had parted ways with his long time assistant, who wanted to spend more time with her new husband and less time traveling. Carlos and you had always been the closest of the four Sainz siblings despite the six year age gap (his 25 years to your 19) so it had been the most natural thing in the world to have you be his assistant and social media manager for the 2019 F1 season. 

Up until today, Carlos had been attending pre-season meetings and putting time in at McLaren’s sim setup by himself but you had arrived at his flat five minutes from the MTC yesterday, suitcases in hand, ready to get started as your brother’s assistant. It had been ages since the two of you had spent this much time together and while you were mostly excited to spend the year traveling and reconnecting with your big brother, there was a bit of trepidation and anxiety sitting in your chest as you walked through those sliding glass doors this morning. 

You were barely 19 after all, little real world experience and you knew absolutely no one in this entire country beyond your brother. All of your friends were attending university in other countries, far away from the world you now found yourself in. Yes, you were excited but you were also insanely nervous. 

Carlos leads you down a long hallway, lined with trophy cases filled with motorsport winners trophies on one side and sleek F1 cars on the other. It was an entire shrine to McLaren history, of which there was a lot, and you were in awe as you followed after your brother. “Where are we going?” You ask as he turns down another quiet hallway, convinced you’d be utterly lost if Carlos asked you to show him how to get back to the front doors. 

“I have a little office tucked away back here next to Lando’s, I wanted to get you set up with the laptop and sync my calendar so you could get yourself ready.” 

You nod, ears perking up at the mention of your brother’s new teammate, Lando Norris. You knew a little about him from a few causal Google searches. He was 19 like you and this was his rookie season in Formula 1. From everything you read, he was a karting prodigy that had been signed by McLaren for a while and had been tapped to drive opposite of Carlos this year. Just knowing that there would be someone around the offices and on the road that was your age made the tight anxiety that sat in your chest ease just a touch, even if you two didn’t end up being more than acquaintances this year. 

Carlos hadn’t been lying about his ‘little’ office. It was barely more than a broom closet if you were being honest. Just enough room for a desk, a pair of chairs, and a bookshelf, but there was a large window that faced south so at least there’d always be sun spilling into the small space making it feel a little airier. 

You pull your MacBook out of the Dior tote Carlos had gotten you for your birthday last year as Carlos chatters away about schedules, press duties, and what he expected out of you. You listened carefully, taking notes in a little spiral bound notebook as you waited for your laptop to boot up. 

“Are you in here talking to yourself again, Carlitos?” 

Your head snaps up at the sound of an unfamiliar voice and you find yourself smiling at the boy standing in the doorway. He’s a few inches taller than you, with short brown hair, and bright green eyes surrounded by thick black eyelashes. The deep tan of his skin surprises you a bit, considering its February in England and you hadn’t seen the sun since you left Spain yesterday. 

The boy’s face instantly sobers when he sees that your brother isn’t alone. “Oh, I’m sorry.” He blushes, hand coming to cup the back of his neck. “I didn’t realize you had a guest.” 

Carlos laughs, “This isn’t a guest. This is my sister, the one I was telling you about Friday. She’s going to be my assistant this year.” 

“Of course, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Lando.” 

You stand, crossing the small office in just 2 quick strides to shake Lando’s outstretched hand, “Nice to meet you too, Lando.” You say, polite smile playing on your lips. 

Lando turned around then, not wanting to intrude on the sibling time but also needing a moment to collect himself. He had known that you would be spending the season with your bother and that you two were around the same age but what he hadn’t prepared himself for was for how pretty you were. Your hair was even darker than your brother’s and it tumbled over your shoulders in layered waves that shined in a way that made Lando’s mouth go a little dry. Those dark eyes, round and doe eyed, threatened to swallow Lando whole and he’d barely spent more than a handful of seconds in your orbit.

He leaned against the door frame leading into his office, the sound of your laughter drifting through the walls. He had been used to the constant travel that was required of drivers of his caliber, having spent most of his teenage years on the road but all that time, he always had someone with him. His father, mother, manager. Someone that was ‘in charge’ of him and his schedule.

Now though? Now everything is different. He’s of age, a driver in the pinnacle league of his chosen sport, and totally alone. His friends are either jealous of his success or away at school and Lando often finds himself spending the entire weekend alone in his little flat down the road from the MTC. He was happy, of course, ecstatic that he had been given this chance by McLaren but the truth of the matter was, Lando Norris was quite lonely. 

As the image of your face flickered through his mind, Lando felt the tight grip of anxiety ease just a little bit. There was something so open about the way you had greeted him, something about how easy your laugh seemed to come, that told Lando that you were a good person, someone that would somehow be very important to him this year. 

“That is your teammates sister, mate.” Lando mutters to himself as he pushes off the door frame, making a beeline for the sim rig that was on the other side of the MTC, hoping that the time spent focused on racing would be enough to get your image out of his brain. 

April 2019 

Baku City Circuit 

“Lando, I swear to God if you’ve slept in again I’m ordering fish whenever I eat with you for the rest of my life.” 

Somewhere between Australia and China, you had morphed into not only Carlos’ personal assistant but also the assistant and babysitter of sorts to his stupid, idiotic, hilarious teammate. You adored the boy but most of the time he drove you to the brink of absolute madness. 

“I didn’t sleep in! My alarm didn’t go off!” Lando groans, breathless on the other end of the phone. 

“That is literally the same thing. I have one simple job here, Norris: get you and my brother to where they belong during race weekends and right now? You’re making me look like an amateur.” 

“I just got into the paddock, relax darling, no one is even remotely close to being fined by the FIA. I’ll be on the fan stage in five minutes, meet me there?” 

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you desperately try to will away the Landache, the term you’ve come up with when you get a headache caused by the Brit. “Fine.” You breathe. 

It’s your fourth race of the season and while Lando and your brother were seemingly hell bent on driving you to an early retirement, you had never been happier. Managing the busy schedule and life of now two Formula 1 drivers had come naturally to you. Engineers and mechanics in the garage were always a little in awe of your ability to keep the two drivers in line and where they needed to be when. The communications team at McLaren loved you because sometimes, you were the only one who would be able to get the Carlando, as the duo was coming to be known as, to behave. 

It was total chaos pretty much all of the time but you were thriving. You and Carlos were closer than ever, working tighter like a well oiled machine. But Lando and you? You two were the textbook definition of Partners In Crime. While you were the picture of professionalism on the track and during business hours, you were the other half of the chaos gremlin duo that terrorized half the grid. 

Right now though? Now the chaos gremlin was the perfect paddock princess that had to make sure her best friend and brother got to the right places on time. You round the corner of the back stage area, desperately searching for the mop of wavy brown hair covered by a papaya colored hat. 

“Lando!” You call, relieved when your dark eyes catch with a familiar pair light colored eyes. Today, they were an icy blue thanks to the bright desert sun of Baku. “I didn’t think I had to add ‘alarm’ to my list of race weekend duties.” You grouse, brushing at the dust on his team polo. 

Lando shakes his head, easy smile spreading across his face. “Am I late though?” 

You glare at him, “No.” You huff. 

“I would never make you look bad, pretty girl.” He winks and your stupid stomach does its traitorous little flip that it’s been doing lately. It’s disgusting. 

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Norris.” 

“And please welcome to the stage, McLaren drivers Carlos Sainz and Lando Norris!” The presenter calls from behind Lando’s shoulder, interrupting your sparring match. 

Lando gives you a wink before spinning around following your brother up the stairs of the stage. 

July, 2019

Germany 

“That was my fifth DNF this year.” The pain in Lando’s voice sends your stomach twisting. You follow behind him, hands wringing together, as he stalks down the hallway of the hotel in Germany. The race had finished up hours ago but Lando had just been released from media duties a bit ago. Carlos had been caught up in some post-race meetings so you had hitched a ride back to the hotel with Lando instead but now, as you followed his stiff frame stalk down the hall, you wondered if that had been a good idea. 

“Lando, it wasn’t your fault. Your car lost power, it’s not like you binned it into the wall or anything.” 

Reaching his room, Lando stops and pulls out the key before letting himself in. He leaves the door open though, indicating he wanted you to follow him. “I know that.” He groans, scrubbing his hands over his face. The hotel room is pretty normal where hotels are concerned, 2 queen sized beds dominate the space with a large flat screen tv on the opposite side. Lando flops down on the farthest bed, his eyes closed. 

“I’ve barely finished in the points yet this season. Haven’t had a sniffing chance at a podium. I feel like such a fucking fraud.” 

You had stopped just inside the door, wanting to give Lando some space as he had his tantrum but now, seeing how truly upset he is, you cross the carpeted floor and sit down next to your best friend. “Lan.” You coo, running your fingers through his hair, knowing how the scratches from your nails relaxes him. “Lan, it’s okay. You knew coming in, just like Carlos, that McLaren is in a bit of a rebuilding stage. This isn’t unexpected.” 

The problem with Lando is that he is utterly too hard on himself. You had clocked the fact quickly, by the time you had been landing in Australia for the first race of the season, you knew he needed to work on his confidence. 

“I know. I mean, I don’t know but I know that you know and I trust you enough to know that you know what you know is right.” 

Your head spins. “Pardon me?” 

Laughter spilling from your lips pops the bubble of tension in the room, Lando unable to keep the smile off his face either.

“You heard me.” He gripes, sitting up. “And I know -” He stops, glaring at you when you double over with laughter once again. “I know you understood me, you cheeky monkey.” 

“I’m sorry but I’m just so terrified by the fact that I did understand that whirlwind of a sentence and can’t decide how to process it.” You say, chest heaving from laughing so hard. “We’ve been spending too much time together.” 

Lando grabs the remote from your hand before turning on the movie you had both fallen asleep to last night before the race. “Are you going to be mean to me all night, or are we going to finish this movie?” 

You roll your eyes, but toe off your shoes before settling against the headboard of the bed, shoulder bumping with Lando’s as he joins you. “Pizza or sushi for dinner?” You ask, grinning because you already know the answer. 

“You’re an idiot.” 

“Love you too, Lan.” You counter, pulling out your phone to order some pizza. 

Tag List: @anilovessadbooks, @shelbyteller, @formulaal, @martygraciesversion381, @longhairkoo, @samantha-chicago, @stelena-klayley @dark-night-sky-99 @luckylampzonkland, @chlmtfilms , @inarabee @aykxz98 @forensicheart @cheer-bear-go-vroom @charlesgirl16

*as always, if you want to be added to the tag list, leave me a comment or send me a message*

[roosterforme]

Sundays Are for the Boys | Hangman x Reader

Summary: Football Sundays are a sacred tradition amongst Jake and his friends, and he's quick to make sure you know that. But when the boys discover your favorite drink in the refrigerator, Jake makes an exception to his rule.

Warnings: Fluff, language, a tiny bit of smut, 18+

Length: 2600 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader

Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Written for Pick Your Poison! Banner by @thedroneranger

Dating Jake came with one firm rule: Sundays were for watching football with the guys. 

"I mean it," he'd told you months ago when you first started dating him. "I host every week. They come over around ten when the games start, and they don't leave until after the last game ends. No wives. No girlfriends. Just a cooler filled with cheap beer. Sundays are for the boys."

At the time, you thought it was cute that he wanted to spend the day with his friends. "That's adorable," you told him, kissing his cheek. But by the time football season arrived, Jake was already in his Dallas Cowboys jersey, shaking you awake on Sunday morning at nine.

"It's almost game time, Baby. The guys will be here soon."

You looked up at him from his bed with a little smirk. "You're really into this, huh?" 

He kissed your forehead and started to pull you to your feet as you laughed. "It's a thing. I told you this months ago." He patted your bare butt as you looked around for your clothes from the night before. "It's week one, and the Cowboys play the Eagles in the early game. I love putting Payback in a bad mood."

You kissed him before you slipped your underwear on. "I know you do."

He was antsy, and you knew he wanted you to leave, but you also knew he didn't want to say it as he kissed you over and over again. "Baby, you gotta go," he finally whispered as you smiled against his lips. 

"I know, I know," you replied, still amused as you finished getting dressed and packed up your stuff. "Go Cowboys."

Each week, your relationship progressed, but this little routine stayed the same. Jake would inevitably wake you up by nine if you weren't already up. He would be wearing one of his many Dallas Cowboys jerseys. He would walk you out to your car and tell you how much he loved you before you left him to entertain his friends. 

But one Sunday, you woke him up with a blowjob on his birthday. And you took your time with it. Did you have a bit of an ulterior motive? Sure. But it didn't detract from the fact that you wanted him to enjoy himself, and you certainly made sure he did. He was coming hard at exactly 9:42 with his hand on the back of your head and his cock tapping your throat. 

"Oh, fuck!" he groaned. "Fuck!" 

You licked him clean and grinned up at him before kissing his hip and whispering, "I love you, birthday boy." Then you climbed out of bed, kissed his lips and started to get dressed. "It's almost ten. I'll head out."

You saw him waver a bit before he nodded. Then his doorbell rang, and you just knew it would be the guys starting to arrive. He kissed you deeply one more time before pulling on his blue and gray jersey and some gym shorts. "Take your time getting dressed. I'll go let them in."

"Sounds good," you replied. And twenty minutes later, after you'd fixed your hair and put on the tiniest bit of makeup, you waltzed out into the living room where there were now six guys spread out on Jake's sectional couch with an open cooler of beer on ice in the middle of the floor and bags of chips seemingly everywhere. 

It was kind of fascinating, getting to catch a glimpse of this carefully curated world that he worked so hard to keep private. Your plan was to quietly sneak out the front door, but you had to stifle your laughter as you heard Bradley tell your boyfriend, "Your Cowboys look like a bunch of fucking pussies this week."

"You're one to talk, dipshit," Jake replied without missing a beat. "The Steelers are 2 and 4." He went back to sipping his beer.

"Both of you are delusional," Coyote told them as he cracked open a can and shoved a fistful of chips into his mouth. 

You skirted around the outside of the room as you eyed them in their various colorful jerseys while you thought they were completely focused on the game. Then you heard Fanboy call your name. "You're leaving?" he asked, looking at you as he ate some beef jerky.

"Yeah," you said with a little laugh as Jake got up to peck you on the cheek. "You know, Sundays are for the boys and all that."

Just then, the Cowboys scored a touchdown, and Jake hoisted you up in the air as you screeched in surprise. Half of the guys groaned, and half of them cheered, but your boyfriend held you tight as he tossed aside his empty beer can and said, "You can't leave until they kick the extra point." So you just stayed there, your feet not even touching the ground as Jake held his breath, and then the Cowboys went up by one more point. Then Jake walked you to your car, nipping at your neck the entire way.

"Don't you have to get back inside?" you whispered as he filthy kissed you, pressing you against the driver's side door. 

"I will," he grunted. "Feel like you're my lucky charm right now."

He kissed away all your lip gloss and messed up your makeup, but when you finally drove away, you had a smile on your face.

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

"What are these things?" Reuben called from the kitchen. Jake turned to see what he was holding up.

"High Noons," he replied before focusing back on the game. "My girl's obsessed with them. It's like a fancy hard seltzer."

"Can I try one?"

"Yeah," Jake told him, knowing he'd just replace them later for you. 

Javy was currently sitting on the floor, practically in tears as the Saints gave up another touchdown to the Dolphins. Mickey's loud cheering had everyone else laughing. "Dude, you'll lose your voice again like last week," Bradley told him as he accidentally spilled potato chips all over the floor before picking them up and eating them anyway. 

"It'll be worth it if the Saints lose!" Mickey cheered. 

"Hey, what's that?" Bradley asked Reuben as he chugged the High Noon can and belched. "Some sort of girly shit?"

"Yeah, it's fucking good."

A minute later, everyone was drinking them, including Jake. "This is delicious," Bob muttered.

"For real," Reuben agreed. "Your girl has good taste."

Bradley snorted as he opened another can. "Not in guys." He and Reuben started cracking up at Jake's expense while he rolled his eyes. 

Then Javy was on his hands and knees crawling toward the TV and shouting, "Get him! Get him! That's a fucking sack! Fuck you, Fanboy! Fuck you, dude!"

The room was in chaos as Javy ground the potato chip crumbs into the carpet. When Jake's phone vibrated, he saw it was a text from you and realized he kind of wished you were here right now.

I miss you. Are you having fun with the boys?

He smiled as he checked the time. The Cowboys game would be starting in less than an hour, and they always seemed to play better whenever you were in the room for those fleeting few minutes before you left him to his Sunday tradition. He tapped his fingers on his thigh and contemplated texting you back. 

"Hey, Jake, are there any more of these things?" Bob asked, holding up his empty High Noon can. It was a testament to how good they tasted that Bob was even drinking one in the first place. He absolutely hated beer.

"I don't think so," Jake muttered, almost to himself as he read your text again. "Let me check." He started his response to you and then finished it after he looked in his nearly empty fridge.

I miss you too, Baby. Where did you get those High Noons? The boys drank them all, and they loved them. I'm going to need to stock up.

When he looked up from his phone, Javy was on his back, kicking his feet in the air, because the Dolphins had scored another touchdown. "No!"

"Hey, Hangman, you're out of chips," Bradley complained, shaking the empty bag into his open mouth before frowning. 

Now Mickey was dancing around Javy on the floor as the final score of the game flashed across the bottom of the screen. His Dolphins had beat Javy's Saints, and Reuben was already changing the channel for the next game that was about to start. But you had texted back again.

Why is that so adorable? I'm just about on my way home from lunch with the girls. Want me to stop and get another case or two? Maybe some snacks? I can drop them off.

Jake grinned; even the idea of you stopping by for a few seconds made him smile. He texted you back letting you know that he loved that idea, and then he stepped over the chaos on his floor and dropped down next to Reuben. Just as the intro to the Cowboys and Steelers was starting up, Jake said, "My girl's stopping by with more of those drinks and some snacks, so please behave while she's here."

"We will," they all replied in unison, though he highly doubted that would actually be the case. 

Then the game started, and they were all distracted, because it was Jake's team against Bradley's team. "Your precious Cowgirls are going down," Bradley muttered, practically licking the inside of the chip bag.

Jake realized he was hungry too as he flipped him off, and he could hear Reuben's stomach growling. The Cowboys were looking terrible in the first quarter, and now Bradley was sitting on the edge of his seat as the Steelers were poised to score a touchdown.

But then, just when you walked in carrying some fresh High Noons and a platter of hot wings, the Steelers threw an interception, and the Cowboys ran it back all the way for a touchdown. "Fuck yes!" Jake shouted, practically ripping the food and drinks out of your hands to get to you. "Come here, Baby. Come sit on my lap."

"Seriously?" you asked, clearly surprised as Jake pulled you along with him while the other guys tore into the seltzers and chicken wings like they were wild animals. Well, everyone except for Bradley who was on his knees on the floor, staring at the TV in shock.

"Thank you for the food and the High Noons," Jake drawled, grinning against your neck as he held you close. "You're the best." 

"You're welcome," you replied, really getting into the game now. "Cowboys are already up?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Bradley groaned. And it just kept getting better from there. Jake got to have you snuggled up on the couch with him while he ate wings and drank seltzers all afternoon. 

When you tried to leave at halftime, the guys whined for you to stay, and Jake pulled you closer to him. "Baby, no. The Cowboys have done nothing but get touchdown after touchdown since you got here. I need you to stay."

You laughed and opened a High Noon for yourself with an amused look on your face. "Alright, Jake. Whatever you need."

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

When you woke up on Sunday with Jake kissing your neck and whispering, "Time to get up," you groaned. You were still exhausted from working all week, but you stretched and slowly got out of bed. "Where are you going?" he asked, reaching for you as you stood and looked at him.

"Home?"

He shook his head like he couldn't be more confused. "Why? Baby, the Cowboys play at ten. The boys will be here soon."

"Yeah...." you replied, reaching for your clothes. "That's why I'm leaving. Sundays are for the boys."

Now he was honest to god pouting. "But, I don't want you to leave. I love watching the games with you, and the guys keep my place cleaner when you're here. They actually belch less too. Really, overall, they are much less insufferable. And besides..." he whispered, grabbing your hand and pulling you back into bed. "I think you're my lucky charm."

"Really?" you asked as he pinned your hands above your head on the pillow. 

"Mmhmm," he hummed as he kissed you. "You make my team do better, and you make me happy. Stay."

You were melting at his touch. "Well, how could I say no?"

The following week, Jake was opening a seltzer for you, and when you looked around, all of the guys were drinking them. Mickey tapped his can to yours. "These are delicious. I feel so sophisticated. You're a genius."

The week after that, Javy ordered pizza only after discreetly asking what your favorite topping was. "The rest of them would eat cardboard with red sauce on top of it, but I want to make sure you get the kind you like."

The week after that, Reuben and Bob both jumped up to get you a new can when yours was empty, and Bradley begrudgingly said, "I still like you even though Jake fucking ruined you by turning you into a Cowboys fan."

You started staying later and later, and you noticed that Jake filled the cooler with fewer beers and more seltzers each week. And on the last Sunday of the regular season, the guys showed up with a sad looking, half crumpled up gift bag and handed it to you as you rearranged the pretty charcuterie board you'd been working on for them. 

"What's this?" you asked, peeking into the bag at some pink fabric.

"It's for you," Javy said. "You're one of the guys now." 

Jake grinned at you from the open refrigerator where he handed out High Noon cans to everyone. "You knew about this?" you asked him as you reached into the bag and pulled out a pink Dallas Cowboys jersey with your own name on the back. 

"Of course I knew about it, Baby. I had to tell them your size."

"Thank you," you whispered as you looked at it, tears filling your eyes and blurring your vision. "I love it." When you looked up at them, they raised their seltzer cans in a toast to you, and you ran to Jake's bedroom to get changed.

You had your own jersey color now amongst the rainbow of teams everyone rooted for, and Jake kept you close as the Cowboys played. The cooler of slowly melting ice offered up High Noons to you and the boys, and by the time it was getting dark outside, you were standing next to the TV with your hands in the air. 

"Ready?" you asked them a little loudly as you giggled, but you weren't the only one who was tipsy and silly. "Here we go!" You led them in a hideous, off-key rendition of I've been waiting all day for Sunday night. After weeks of watching football, everyone had all of the ridiculous lyrics memorized, and it ended in laughter as you curled up next to Jake on the couch.

"I love Sundays," he said, his arm slung around your shoulders. "And I love you, Baby."

You kissed his cheek and whispered, "Sundays are for seltzer drinkers."

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

You slowly infiltrated, and now Sundays are yours. Thanks @thedroneranger for making pretty mood boards like this one and letting us write about them. And thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

Don't forget to read the second part! This Sunday Is for My Girl!

@blahehblah

@sotalife

@desert-fern

@furiouspiespytaco

@rosiahills22

@daggerspare-standingby

@je-suis-prest-rachel

@callsign-joyride

@theharddeck

@withakindheartx

@roosterscockpit

@whatislovevavy

@hangmanbrainrot

@neferpatra

@sehnsuchts-trunken

@averyhotchner

@cherrycola27

@mygyn

@hoyaharper

@tallyovie

@gennyanydots

@callsign-magnolia

@whisperofsong

@seriouslyseresin

@double-j

@katiebby04

@supernaturaldawning

@chassy21

@tylerjones98

@captainjaspenor

@gigisimsonmars

@fanboyswhore9

@angel-w0nderland

@abaker74

@idontcare-11

@isaebellaa

@bringnattolife

@xoxabs88xox

@djs8891

@hufflepufftruffle

@cottagecori

[incognit0slut]

Buried in the pillow

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

A night of restless sleep ends better than expected. Based on;

warning: 18+ explicit content including edging, a little chocking, sexual intercourse, and dom spence

words: 4,6k (I got carried away😭)

a/n: am I supposed to be writing something else? Yes. Will it stop me from writing a slow, lazy sex scene? NO

MASTERLIST

“…you’re buried in the pillow, yeah you’re so loud…”

THERE WAS NO DENYING THE WARM FLOOD OF AROUSAL RUSHING IN HER SYSTEM. Y/n inhaled a sharp breath, her heart rate climbing in her chest she could feel her pulse throbbing through her entire body. She readjusted herself along her pillow and closed her eyes before exhaling, her thighs pressed together as she tried not to let her mind travel into any lewd thoughts.

But the sound of his shallow breathing was enough to make her terribly aware of the abrupt shift in her body. She could feel the dull, needy throb between her legs merging with that burn of sheer want for him low in her stomach. Her eyes fluttered open then, and there he was, sleeping on his side of the bed with his face facing toward her.

Spencer looked so peaceful. His eyes were closed, lashes brushing along his cheeks, and his mouth slightly parted while his chest rose in a steady rhythm, a sign of him in complete slumber. She had seen the drowsiness in his eyes the moment he walked through the door this evening, the fatigue clumped in his shoulders as he kissed her in greeting. It had been days since the last time he had proper sleep, having to travel across the country for a recent case, and today he finally had the chance to rest his bones from all of the work.

But it also meant it had been eleven days, fifteen hours, and forty-six minutes since the last time she had him buried deep inside her...

Not that she was counting.

Fine—maybe she was. Maybe she was keeping up with their time apart because being with him was something she looked forward to, in and out of the bedroom. How could she not? He was her partner; her smart, caring boyfriend who she loved too damn much and would do anything to bide the time relishing in his presence.

Although tonight she did have a specific activity in mind, which now seemed more like wishful thinking considering he was already deep in slumber. He needed the sleep, she reminded herself. He was simply tired and he needed all the rest he could get.

Swallowing hard, Y/n tried to push her desire back down. She turned over, laid back down on her back, and let her eyelids fall back down as she settled her arms to her side. But the position was too uncomfortable. She let out a groan and shifted again, hips moving along the bed a few times before she finally stopped.

The feel of something shifting woke Spencer up, his mind slowly stirring awake. A soft sigh escaped him as he lay silently, his mind quieted in the stillness of the night. Then his breathing evened out a moment later, exhaustion of the past few days took over before his eyelids lowered, body drifting back to sleep. Except for a little bit later, he heard more rustling along the pillow, a soft, feminine sound of frustration barely ringing in his ears. This time he slowly opened his eyes, adjusting himself in the dark.

The first thing he noticed was a mass of hair laid in front of him, then bare arms and a slender body clad in a silky nightgown. There was silence as he tried to pick up her breathing, watching her back move steadily in the poorly lit room. When another exasperated sigh escaped her, Spencer inched closer and reached out, an arm wrapping around her waist as he pulled her closer toward him.

"Hey," he softly murmured, concerned about her constant movements in her sleep. "You alright?"

Y/n stopped herself from letting out a moan. On normal occasions, being pressed up against him in bed would lull her to sleep, the comfort of his arms provided an immense amount of warmth and safety. Definitely not tonight. The way his arm tightened around her, tugging her back into his solid chest awoken that part of her she tried to suppress. The heat of his body enveloped her and she found herself leaning back, accepting the warmth he was offering.

"Hmm," her returning hum answered, sinking deeper into his embrace.

"Bad dream?"

She stopped herself from snorting. She couldn't even get a wink of sleep and here he was, concerned about the possibility of her having nightmares. But it was a better reason than to admit why she couldn't rest her eyes, so she nodded, her voice slightly breathless as she whispered, "Something like that."

The silence in the air after her reply was jarring. If Spencer was half-awake before, he was fully awake now, the rasp in her voice far too familiar for him to ignore. And when he finally regained his consciousness back, he became highly aware of his surroundings. The soft mattress underneath him, the plush pillow below his head, and the soft curves pressed against him.

He could feel her body trembling underneath his palm, her breathing picking up its pace as his fingers glided along her stomach. He could practically hear the sound of her heartbeat as he pulled her even closer, his head shifting along her shoulder, his nose brushing against the back of her neck. The subtle fragrance of flowers and honey filled his nostrils as he breathed in her scent, nuzzling further into her, the stubble of his jaw grazing along her skin.

"Spence," she muttered, tilting her head into the pillow. "What are you doing?"

"You seem to be having trouble sleeping." She felt the bed shift behind her as he moved again, and then a moment later she felt him pressing his hips into her ass. She let out a gasp. "I'm helping you relax."

She felt something pleasantly warm grazing her neck, his lips moving deliberately slow, as if he was in no hurry and only wanted to savor the taste of her skin. His hand then slid further up her stomach, palm flat as it dragged up her body, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. It eventually stopped its roam, halting its search when he cupped her left breast tenderly.

She couldn't stop the strained moan from slipping out of her mouth. "Sleep isn't exactly on my mind right now."

"I figured," he murmured beside her ear, his hot breath drawing goosebumps along her skin. "How long have you been awake?"

His hand gently kneaded her breast as his mouth traveled along her neck. Her eyelids lowered slightly, a wet heat forming between her thighs as her arousal intensified. "I haven't slept."

"And why is that?" A finger brushed across her nipple through her thin nightgown. She suppressed a helpless whimper as his thumb circled around the nub, caressing it so gently she could feel her body shaking with need. "Go on." He tugged on her nipple between his fingers. "Use your words."

"I..." She felt his tongue softly grazing her skin before he wrapped his mouth around her flesh, sucking on the spot. What was she to say? That she was too aroused to relax? She carefully weighed her words, feeling bashful verbalizing her thoughts, so she finally settled with, "It was too hot."

He hummed in response, somehow acknowledging the meaning behind her words. She watched as his hand left her breast, sliding up her bare arm before it settled on the strap of her flimsy sleepwear. He gently tugged down the thin string as his mouth lowered towards her shoulder, languorously trailing kisses down the line of it. "We should do something about that, shouldn't we?"

She couldn't think clearly when his touch sent her into a whirlwind of chaos. To crave something was one thing, to actually acquire that craving was an entirely different thing. She had wanted to feel him so much, but as his hand trailed back to her now-exposed breast, her mind was in a mess of desperate longing and need. Somehow his mouth trailing on her neck wasn't enough. Somehow his callused fingers stroking her nipple wasn't enough. She needed to feel every inch of his body on her. She wanted all of him.

More, more, more.

"Spence," she breathed out, her hoarse voice hanging in the air.

A ghost of a smile played on his lips. "Tell me." His grip on her nipple tightened, and she shuddered at the sensation. "Tell me what you want."

"You," she answered in a daze. "I want you."

"What do you want me to do?" He gently bit her flesh. "Do you want me to make you feel good? Do you want me to touch you, relax the tension in your body?" Then her heart sped up in her chest, slamming roughly into her rib cage at his next words.

"Do you want me to fuck you to sleep?"

A strangled whimper left her mouth. Spencer was a lot of things in bed. When they had first been together, he was so timid and unsure of himself, too caught up in his thoughts that left him too afraid to touch her—which she honestly hadn't minded, she loved being the one who saw his transformation in the bedroom. But when he finally started to loosen up and be himself with her, exploring things he wanted to try, to finally take control? It drove her absolutely wild to experience him gain his confidence it made her weak in the knees every damn time.

Like this side of him now always managed to render her speechless. Perhaps it was the way he was so poised and calm outside the bedroom, a very different demeanor when he was alone with her, that made it all seem so overwhelming. In the safety of their bedroom, he was everything he desired, and being crude and demanding was what he decided to be this night.

His hand caressing her nipple slid up her chest, his fingers gently wrapping around the base of her neck. Her breath hitched as he softly gripped it, pulling her even further into his chest. "Tell me, is that what you want?"

She was breathing even heavier now, her shoulders heaving with each audible inhale. "Yes."

He bit her earlobe, evoking another breathless shudder out of her. "Explain it in words, I need you to speak to me."

Y/n enjoyed the sweet, gentle way he made love to her. She really did. Very, very much so. But there was a certain enjoyment whenever he was in control. Whenever he let himself go and have his way with her—crass words over sweet nothings, rough stokes over soft touches. It burned her skin and gripped onto her arousal, waking up the submissive side of her which she enjoyed more than she should probably have.

Spencer's grip tightened at her silence. "Are you not going to answer me?"

"Yes," she quickly responded, feeling the subtle bulge of him pressed along her backside. "Please."

"Please... what?"

She couldn't believe he was making her say it. Y/n inhaled a sharp breath and leaned into his touch, practically shifting the weight of her body on top of him. "Spence."

"I need to hear the words or you won't get anything at all," he spoke, his thumb grazing her chin.

The thought of being left sexually frustrated was enough for her to nod, giving in to his command. "Yes," she whispered, and because she wanted to make him feel as desperate as she was, she squirmed, hips writhing along his groin as she searched for friction. "I want you to fuck me to sleep."

A pleased rumble vibrated in his throat. Letting go of her neck, his hand trailed down her body and landed on the top of her thigh, gently massaging the muscle beneath his palm. His fingers skimmed up toward her skin, pushing up her nightgown, exposing more delicate skin and skimpy underwear barely covering her ass. Then it happened so fast. One moment he was caressing her, the next thing she knew his hand drew back before it came barreling forward with a sharp smack that echoed in the room. She gasped in pleasant surprise, her clit throbbing in excitement as his palm rubbed along the stinging flesh.

"You liked that, didn't you?"

She whimpered in response. Then his hand retreated from her ass only to come flying forward again with another sharp crack. Her hips jolted forward at the impact, her eyes closing at the delicious sting as his hand held onto her her stomach. His fingers then slowly trailed south and her breath hitched in her throat as she felt his lips hot on her ear.

"Open your legs, sweetheart."

Her knees fell apart at the demand, one of her legs laying on top of his. She waited for him to touch her, to dip his hand into her aching folds in the confinement of her underwear. Instead, his fingers slipped into the side of her fabric, tugging the material to the side, exposing wet, damp skin to his desire. The slick evidence of her arousal stuck onto the fabric so thickly it was enough for her to feel the heat creeping along her cheeks.

"Would you look at that?" He whispered, lips touching the back of her ear. "I haven't even touched you here and you're already soaking wet."

Her heart was pounding hard in her chest as she watched him. There wasn't a moment of hesitation while his fingers tugged the waistband of her underwear, gingerly sliding them down her legs before pulling them past her feet and casting them somewhere over the side of the bed. Then he grabbed onto her knee, parting her legs further apart but not doing anything to quench her desire. He could feel her trembling, writhing with need as she pressed further into his front.

The cool air hit her exposed skin, and it took a lot of self-control for her not to beg even further, but the way her body squirmed was enough to let him know what she craved. Though his hand stayed where it was, firmly gripping onto her left leg, sliding it on top of his while his lips lazily mapped along her neck.

"Here's what we're going to do," his gruff voice filled her ears. "I'm going to touch you, I'm going to please you in every way you like—" His hand slid painfully slow down her thigh before it came to a complete stop. "—but you can only cum when I give you permission to." His fingers inched closer to her throbbing heat. "Do I make myself clear?"

A shiver spread along her body, understanding what he meant by those words. He wanted to rule her, he wanted to be the one in charge of her own body. And while she should've felt appalled at the thought, her arousal rather grew deeper at every ticking second as he waited for her reply.

And then suddenly his fingers wrapped around her neck again, gently pressing onto her skin as he jutted his hips towards her. "Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes," she begged him, her hand lightly tugging around his arm. "Perfectly clear."

Then his hand trailed down again, slightly brushing her aroused nipples before it settled on the heated span between her legs. When the pads of his fingers lightly grazed her clit, his teeth bit down on her shoulder. A hiss of pleasure instantly flew out of her mouth. Two of his fingers began running back and forth between her damp folds, the sensation was gradually pulling shallower and shallower breaths from her.

"You're so wet," he growled against her skin. "This what you've been needing?"

She faintly nodded, her hips moving gradually with his fingers. His fingers circled in swift motion and it was enough for her to roll her head back onto his shoulder. His fingers then slid back into her slicked entrance before he abruptly slipped two of them into her. Eyes snapping shut, she groaned in pleasure. He began thrusting slowly into her over and over, curling them deep inside. A whimper escaped her mouth at the feel of them as he began to pump into her roughly, her hips pressing eagerly back into his hand.

"I can already feel you clenching around my fingers," he whispered. "You really needed this, didn't you?"

"So much," she found herself answering, a hand grasping onto his arm as he kept thrusting his fingers at a steady pace. "I needed you."

"Then you have me. You'll always have me."

A breathy moan flew out of her at his words, her back arched in response. She felt his lips pulling into a smile along her skin, thrusting his fingers all the way in. She moaned loudly, her head dropping down between his shoulders as he pulled his fingers out before quickly pushing them right back inside.

"Spence," she breathlessly sighed, his fingers still vigorously thrusting into her, only pausing to occasionally curl inside of her which in turn had her toes curling on the bed, her body feeling closer to the edge of her release. "I-I'm gonna—"

"No. You're not."

She let out a loud groan, griping his arm as he thrust deeper, his fingers spreading wider into her as another finger entered her heat. His warm breath was brushing over her skin, the sensation mingled with his finger still thrusting into her deliciously pleasant. "Baby, I-I can't—"

"You can," he whispered, his breathing sounding harsher than before. "You're going to wait until I give you my permission."

A harsh moan ripped in her throat, her body spasming as she tried to force herself to control her body. but it was getting harder to do when her vision felt like it was blurring, her breath coming in sharp pants as his fingers continued to drive into her, the sensation had her legs shaking. She could hear how wet she was, the slick sound of him pumping into her echoed in the room.

"You're really enjoying this," he ground out as his pace picked up. "You're already so close."

She nodded against the pillow, whimpering out an affirmative noise that wasn't quite a word.

"Then I can't let that happen."

Instead of getting what she wanted, he abruptly pulled his fingers out from inside of her before she whined in protest. The loss of his touch on her body was too much to handle as she gripped his arm again, guiding him back between his legs. Spencer couldn't help the amusement dripping in his voice as he watched her move his fingers with her own. "What are you doing?"

"Spence, I was so close—"

"That's not how this works."

Then he retrieved his hand again before shifting behind her, and when she caught him pulling down his sweatpants, she couldn't help but arch her body towards him. She swallowed hard, goosebumps raising along her skin as she watched him pull out his cock, his hand gripping onto the length of it as he settled between her legs.

A moment later she felt the head of his cock rubbing through her damp folds, a shudder running down her spine at the sensation, a soft hum vibrating through her lips. She felt him line himself up with her entrance, her breath feeling like it was catching in her throat as she impatiently waited for him.

And then, finally, after many days of being apart, the tip of him slid inside of her so slowly. A gasp fell out of her mouth. Spencer rumbled out a very gruff, contented noise as he gradually sunk even deeper inside of her, pausing to let herself adjust to him.

"You feel so warm," he groaned out. "So perfectly warm."

She moaned in response, breath coming in hard. "Don't stop, please don't stop."

She could feel her walls fluttering around him, trying to adjust to his girth. Then his hips slowly began rocking into her, pleasure washing over her body in waves at the sensation. His mouth lowered beside her ear, each of his panting breaths falling straight into it. "Nice—" He moved his hips back before pushing them forward leisurely, enjoying the way she clenched around him. "—and slow."

The roll of his hips pulled her into a trance as her body responded; muscles straining, eyes widening, lips parting. Sparks of electricity began to ricochet along every nerve. The coil inside her was building up, her chest was rising and falling faster, more and more, dragging desperate breaths into her lungs with every thrust of his hips.

Then her eyes shifted downwards, watching the way he entered her deliciously body. It was a strange sight, to watch her body react to something so wonderful. Her muscles tensed, goosebumps sprang up along her skin, and it was all there for her viewing pleasure. She watched as he shoved himself into her, over and over again, her walls trembling at how intoxicating he was making her feel.

"Baby, I—" she whimpered, trembling in her wake. "I can't hold much longer."

"You can," he assured her, his fingers digging into her skin.

Weak and desperate, she surrendered in the wake of the urge elicited by his abrasive touch. His hands were all over her, large and expansive, confident in the way he touched, squeezed, and fondled every part of her body. Eager flames bloomed in the pit of her gut. "I—I can't."

He relished the way she clenched around him, her breathing coming out shallow as he took what he wanted. Then he gripped her hips, building up his pace as he thrust deeper into her. "You're so close, I can feel it," he pointed out. "Do you want to cum?"

She tried to focus her mind on something other than the feeling of him inside her. "Yes."

"Hmm," he hummed out, his pace briefly slowing. His lips brushed the shell of her ear as he demanded, "Beg me or I'll stop."

A whimper left her. "Spence."

His lips found her neck when he felt her walls squeezing him even tighter, "Do you want to cum?" he repeated against her skin.

"Mhmm."

"Use your words," he groaned as he increased the pace of his movements. "Say it."

Swallowing hard, her head rolled against his shoulder. Her lips were quivering as he kept up his pace, her body inching closer and closer to her release. She was fighting to hold it back, her body slowly beginning to shake along the mattress.

"Beg." Thrust. "Me." Thrust.

She was so close. Her eyes were half-lidded her voice rang in the air, breathless and desperate for his mercy from the overwhelming pleasure. "Please," she finally breathed out, almost letting out a cry, her lips parted in delight. "Baby—I-I... please let me cum."

"What was that?"

"Spencer," she whimpered desperately. "Please. Please. Let me—fuck.. baby, please."

This time she did let out a cry.

He snarled behind her before his teeth snapped at her earlobe, tugging at the delicate skin. Her body was quaking on the bed as she whined, struggling to hold back any longer. And when she felt like she was about to lose control, he finally released her earlobe and spoke, "Go on, then. Cum for me."

A loud moan flew up out of her throat, her body pressing back into his. She felt the hard clench of her walls around his length as pleasure spread through her entire body. As the coil in her stomach grew, she couldn't help but snake a hand down to where they were connected and quickly found her throbbing sex. Catching her desperate fingers, he swatted her hand away, replacing it with his own as his fingers circled around her clit.

His rough fingers taunting their joint bodies tipped her over that tantalizing edge. She felt each pulse of her walls so acutely, felt the heat flow throughout her spine as the high she reached never came to an end. He buried his face into her neck, kissing and biting the smooth skin. A certain movement from his fingers made her whole body shake. She couldn't handle it, couldn't see through the tears falling, couldn't feel anything but him and the hot pleasure.

She finally came with a scream, wrenched from her throat so roughly it seared its way out of her lungs and into the air. She felt herself clench around him, hard, and his hips shuddered violently against her. Her ears tingled at the rhythm of his grunts as he exhaled her name, his thrusts growing erratic. Then she felt him completely, she could feel his warmth seeping into her heat as he let out the most primal groan she had ever heard.

Silence engulfed them afterward, their heart slowing down from their erratic breathing. It wasn't until he slipped out of her that she let out a tired moan, her voice echoing in the dark. He gently grabbed her body and turned her around, cradling her cheek before leaning in for a kiss.

Then slowly, but steadily, all he tasted was her. It felt like a missing puzzle falling back to its place as his warm lips connected with hers. He was so enraptured by her touch, by the taste of her, that it took a lot for him to pull away. Breathing heavily, he finally rested his head back onto his pillow, a coy smile stretched on his lips as his thumb stroked along her cheek.

"Hi."

A sincere smile flourished on her face. "Hi."

"Well, that was... something."

She laughed as she leaned closer, wrapping her arm around his waist. "It was fun."

"It really was," he agreed, suddenly feeling shy as he realized what had just occurred. "I always surprise myself when I'm with you."

"Good," she simply said. He wrapped his arms around her as she settled in his embrace. They lay in comfortable silence, her head on his chest, legs draped over him as his fingers drew lazy patterns on her thigh. Then after a moment of relishing each other's presence, his deep voice cut through the silence.

"You know," he started, his voice very soft. "You could've just woken me up if you have trouble sleeping."

She slightly leaned back to look up at him. "You looked so peaceful, I didn't want to disturb you."

"Nothing about you will ever be disturbing to me."

She wrinkled her nose. "Even if you got home from a long, exhausting trip, you wouldn't mind if I woke you up for sex?"

"I'd especially want to be woken up for that reason," he replied in disbelief. His fingers trailed under her chin, angling her gaze on him. "Wouldn't you?"

She smiled at the thought. There was a delightful feeling as her mind wandered on the possibility of him interrupting her sleep because he craved her touch. "Alright," she agreed. "Duly noted."

His arms tightened around her. "Do you think you can sleep now?"

She hummed out a positive response, her face burrowing along his skin, just beneath his chin. Her body suddenly felt the heavy post-sexual bliss, and now surrounded by his warmth, she could feel the fatigue creeping into her body.

"I was hoping so," he murmured.

Tugging the sheets up higher over their body, she felt him shifting along the bed for a minute, his arms encircling her waist. His chin was carefully tucked onto the top of her head as he drew her in tight under the covers. And when the steady rhythm of his breathing embraced her, her body finally relaxed, falling into sleep.

[emmie-tt]

Warmth

Jacob Black X reader

Description: The heat goes out…luckily you have a furnace for a fiancé

———————————-

Winters in Forks was harsh. It was usually cold anyways but this time of year made it extra cold.

Moving in with your fiancé had gone smoothly, starting your life together and getting to enjoy so much more time together felt like a dream…until the heater stopped working. It of course stopped when Jacob left for patrol leaving you to just nestle in bed, a small space heater on the bedside table as you lay under a pile of blankets.

It was late when he got home, the clock on the wall displaying a time of 3:27 AM. You felt him before you saw him, his side of the bed dipping under his weight as he leans over and gently brushed some hair from your face.

“You awake my love…?”

You nod slightly as a chill runs down your spine, the cold seeping in when he pulls back the covers to climb under them with you. Relief dawns on you quickly though as his overheated arms wrap around your torso and practically yank your shaking body back into his. “How long has the heat been out?”

“Like…six hours I think…” you shrug as you roll in his arms and bury your face against his chest as he rubs up and down your arms to help warm you up.

“I’m sorry darling…i’ll fix it in the morning okay?” he sighs softly when he feels you nod against his chest and his grip on you tightens when he feels yet another chill go through you. His frown quickly turns to a smirk when you pull the blankets over yourself and make a cacoon, not a single bit of yourself visible as you nuzzle up against his body. “Sleep tight my love…”

He smiles when you press a soft kiss to his stomach before he closes his eyes and falls asleep.

The next morning came and when your eyes woke to find the bed empty but the house warm once again confusion grew. Standing from the bed you quickly made your way downstairs where you found Jake sat on the couch scrolling on his phone “You fixed it..?”

He looks up before setting his phone down and nodding. His hands immediately go to your waist when you plant yourself in his lap.

“I did it last night..you were shivering even when asleep so I just had to fix it.”

Your heart melted as you cupped his face and pressed a soft kiss to his lips…this is why you were gonna marry this man…

[spider-ghoul]

Babysitting <3

Percy Jackson X gn!reader (fluff)

In which: a call from Sally Jackson leads you to help with her youngest, and spend the night with her eldest son. Lingering glances and sleepy confessions only to be forgotten by morning.

Warnings: Reader is mentioned to be smaller than Percy once, kissing, none I can think of but as always lmk if there's anything!!

this might be complete shit lmao I finished this at like 3:00 am last night but I wanted to get something out to feed the beasts of this website

~~𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𓇼 ࣪ 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒ 𓆡 ⭒ㅤ𓈒ㅤׂ 🫧~~

At six o'clock on a Friday, normally I'd be rotting in my bed after the week of school. And that was the plan, until Mrs. Jackson mom called.

"Oh- (y/n) I'm so sorry for asking but do you think you could watch Estelle tonight? Me and Paul had a date but Percy was going to the movies with Grover tonight and we-"

"Mrs. Jackson, yeah, it's fine. When do I need to be over?"

"Six is when we're leaving."

"I'll be there at five fifty."

"You're a savior."

This was perfectly fine. Me and Percy were friends and i was the only half-blood who lived around here. I watched Estelle a few times before too. No biggie. Except for the fact I'd been in love with Percy Jackson for...a while.

I mean, he was  kinda my friend. But god, he was Percy Jackson.

At five forty, i headed out. I grabbed my backpack, making sure i had the baby sitting essentials for any four year old: nail polish, beads, and my old rainbow loom (i also spent a extra minute making sure my hair looked okay so that if i saw a certain older brother) I figured that and the t.v. would be more than enough to keep us occupied till her bedtime at eight.

I got there right on time (surprisingly), and Sally greeted me with another thank you. She tried to hand over a few bucks cash, but i pushed her hand away.

She rushed out of the door with Paul after a few more (failed) attempts of paying me, leaving me with an excited two four old. And before too long, she had me watching Bluey (Though i do thoroughly enjoy that show), and making bracelets for us.

She watched as i showed her how to bead the string and make sure the letter beads where on the right way, and then she helped me choose colors.

To start i made one with her name in purple and white. She giggled and slide it on her wrist. I started working on a second one, and she told me to tie hers. It was all blue and had me spell out 'Percy' with beads for her.

"Is this for your brother?" She nodded excitedly, "well, we'll give it to him when he get here, okay?"

I got a solid hour with the beads before she got bored, and by the end both of our wrists had a fair share of bracelets littering them, and a small pile of three bracelets for Percy.

I seriously hope she's awake when he gets here, I can imagine the teasing that would come with handing him bracelets and saying, "oh yeah sorry I'm at your house haha baby sitting- oh me and your sister made you bracelets-". Or i could imagine our hands touching causing me to panic. I could imagine a million things actually.

I think this whole crush is really getting out of hand, especially with me becoming his mom's go to sitter now a days.

Estelle broke me from my thoughts with requests to watch 'Nemo', her favorite. We've watched it every time I've babysat. Part of me wonders if Percy likes it too, I mean with the whole sea god thing. 

As for her request, I made a bag of microwave popcorn and set her down in front of the TV.

I vaguely remember the opening, and Estelle fell asleep next to me before i dozed off myself.

I woke up a bit later, maybe half an hour? The movie wasn't finished, but Estelle was already fast asleep. I took the liberty of scooping her up and placing her in her own bed before going to clean up the main room.

It wasn't bad, just putting away my beads, and getting the popcorn bowl out of the way. I was tired enough, school was rough this week. I just planted myself back on the couch, finding Nemo not quite finished as I did.

I'm not quite sure when i feel back asleep, just that i did.

I'm also not quite sure when Percy Jackson sat down next to me, but he did.

I woke up, curled around a throw pillow, the end credits were playing. I rolled onto my back, and that's when I saw him.

Maybe i was too tired, or maybe he was just smiling, but i didn't feel all that anxious. At least not like i normally do around the son of the sea god.

"Do you always fall asleep to Nemo or is this a special occasion?"

"Do you always watch me sleep or is this a special occasion...?"

He laughed and my heart fluttered.

"Uhm, sorry your mom had me come over to babysit, I didn't know you'd be home yet." I say awkwardly smiley as i sit up, yawning. 

"It's fine, y/n. She texted me, sorry to have you waste a Friday."

"Oh its fine, better than doing nothing. Your sis was an angel, like always." I say, shifting, my shirt bunched up around my waist while I was sleeping. I was also pretty positive my hair was a mess. 

"Oh and speaking of my mom- before i forget." He pulled out a twenty, "now I figure you aren't gonna want to take it, but it's sally's orders."

"I'd feel bad, its just a favor. Your mom is always so nice, she patched me up after a monster attack once, this is just me repaying her."

"She did? When?" His eyebrows furrowed together, his eyes filled with concern.

And i felt my face getting hot again.

"A few weeks ago, your house was closer than mine, it's fine." I mutter, looking down. 

He sighed, "what happened?" he said, reaching out to put his hand over mine. I short wire for a moment, looking back up at him. 

"Just something on my way home from school, it wasn't bad."

After a brief moment of silence, i wanted to crawl out of my skin.

He sighed, "as long as you're fine." he lifted his hand off of mine, though I could still feel his warmth. 

I smiled weakly, "oh uh..what time is it?" 

"Uh.. ten-ish?"

"I should be getting home." I say, sighing turning away from him. 

"It's pretty late, I wouldn't want you to walk back alone."

"It's not far-"

"I'm sure my mom would say the same thing, you know."

I sighed, knowing he was right, "i don't want to intrude." 

"Neither me or Sally would care."

"...."

"...can i bribe you to stay with waffles?"

"...yeah you can." I sigh, any of Sally's food was enough to make me do just about anything. 

Percy smiled, making my heart melt.

"Great, it'll be like a sleepover. Do you need to borrow a shirt or something?"

"Yeah, that uhm- that would be great." I mutter, pushing myself up off the couch. My neck was sore, who would have guessed that a throw pillow wasn't great for sleeping? I stretch my arms out over my head, yawning again. 

"tired?" He chuckles, raising his eyebrow. 

"well you did just wake me up-" I resort, rolling my eyes. I always forget how nice Percy is. I always worry about stupid things, but when I'm with him none of it really matters.

"You woke up on your own- I was simply..." He trails off, and I laugh:

"Watching me sleep?" 

"What can I say? You looked so.. pretty." He look down at me, and I could swear my heart stops, but I don't look away.

"...Yeah, whatever." I mummer quietly,  staring into his eyes and blinking a few times before finally breaking eye contact.

After a short moment, He mumbles something about getting me to bed. I nod quickly, following him to his room, which is surprisingly clean. He digs though his dresser drawers for a moment, pulling out some old band tee, and blue plaid pants. He hands them to me. 

"Is this fine for you? might be a big big, just let me know-" 

"it's fine. No worries." I say quickly, taking them, making sure to avoid his hands. "Thanks." 

He smiles again, and I leave for the bathroom, my heart pounding in my ears. 'pretty'? it's nothing, Percy is just nice like that. 

I change into his clothes, the smell of ocean engulfing me as the soft fabric hangs from my body.  I can't help but to push my head into my shoulder. It smells like him. 

I ball up my jeans and tee shirt, shoving them into my backpack. I slipped out the bathroom once I calmed myself down enough to talk to him again. 

I walk up to Percy's door, "Hey, I'm gonna go lay down do you have a blanket or something I can use..?" 

His eyebrows furrowed as he looked up at me from where he was laying on his bed, "You don't seriously think I'm making you sleep on the couch-?" 

"Well I kinda assumed..?" 

"Get over here you dork." He said, scooting over on his bed, "Plenty of room- you don't mind, do you?" 

Part of me lit on fire, and part of me was desperate to put it out. My ears got hot, but I managed to nod.

"No, I don't mind.." 

I place my bag on the floor by the door, walking up and sitting on his bed, sliding my legs under the covers and sliding down to lay next to him. I was stiff, worried to so much as touch him. But eventually, I relaxed, turning to lay on my side, facing him. 

I looked at him through half-lidded eyes, my body already starting to sink into his bed, ready to get a proper night's sleep. My eyelids slowly drifted shut. 

I was woken when Percy broke the silence. 

"Y/N?" Percy whispered, almost silent. 

"Mhm..?" I mumbled back, not bothering to open my eyes. 

"I really like you, you know that?" 

If I wasn't half asleep, maybe I would have said something different. If I had the energy maybe I would have been flustered. 

"... I really like you too." 

I only heard him chuckle before he placed a hand on my hip. 

"Get some sleep, yeah? I'll confess my undying love when you'll properly Remember it." 

I must have frowned, because he laughed lightly and pulled me a little closer. 

It didn't matter though. I slipped back to sleep, and when I woke up I didn't  remember. 

I remembered waking up some point in the night, but I didn't know what was said. 

And in the morning, I got the promised waffles and left the Jackson's apartment. 

The ever chivalrous Percy Jackson (who I woke up cuddling with), offered to walk me home. 

We took the long way, and when we reached my door step, he pressed his lips to mine and told me he couldn't wait for me to babysit again, though he wouldn't mind me coming around before then. 

He left me breathless and giddy, and so so happy to have accepted Sally's offer.

[ahgasegotarmy116]

Faking It | Jeon Jungkook | Chapter Two

Summary: Seeing him again happened sooner than you thought it would but absolutely no one is complaining. Pairing: f!reader (30) x Single Dad Jungkook (33) (Arranged Marriage Slow Burn?) Word Count: 9.8k Warnings: Talking about Jungkook's wife who passed away in childbirth (Doesn't talk about her death but yeah) a/n: Took me three months but we're finally here 😭 And if any of you saw me post this and delete it...no you didn't. I posted it on my reblogs account on accident so sorry if that teased you a bit 😅 Anyways I hope this was worth the wait 😭 p.s. I only read through this once when I completed it so have mercy on me if there are typos

I wake up naturally this morning and it's honestly one of the best feelings in my opinion. Not having to worry about being woken up out of a sound sleep shows me that it's going to be a good day.

As I yawn and rub the sleep out of my eyes I hear my phone vibrate on my nightstand, telling me I have a new message. I roll over and reach for it lazily to check and when I read the sender's name I immediately shoot up, causing Salem to dart off the bed. "Sorry Salem" I call after him but then when I go back to read the message my heart is already beating out of my chest.

'Good morning y/n I hope you slept well. How are you?' a simple yet inviting message from the man I just met last night. Who knew waking up to good morning texts would still feel this good at the ripe age of thirty?

'Good morning Jungkook! I slept like a baby, best sleep I've gotten in a while actually. I just woke up so, so far so good. How are you? How's Juni? Did you guys sleep alright?' I send and at a second glance I can see how completely whipped I am for this man already. Why am I rambling on and on about sleep? I could've just said 'I slept well, I hope you did as well' or something like that.

'That's good, I'm glad to hear! Juni and I slept alright. She actually only woke up an hour ago which is unheard of since she's usually knocking on my door at six am. She's been talking about you since she woke up' he sends back and my heart flutters, loving that I've made that big of an impression on her already.

I check the time and see that it's already nine am which is a record time for me to sleep as well since I'm usually up by seven most days. Then again it's not everyday that you get to spend the night with a man like him...

Wait! That's not what I meant!

'She can't stop talking about going shopping for butterflies so I wanted to see if we could set up a time soon. Maybe this weekend if you're free?' he suggests and I have to restrain myself from kicking my feet, just thinking about this man asking to see me again, disguised by his daughter wanting to get butterfly decorations for her room.

'This weekend sounds perfect! I'm free tomorrow as well so either day is fine' I offer up and face palm, scolding myself for being too eager. 'Tomorrow sounds great! Should we meet around eleven? Juni and I would love to take you out to lunch if you'd like. You know, to thank you for the help' he sends and I can't help but think that maybe he's a little nervous too.

'Eleven it is! Should I meet you guys there? There's a shop that I'm sure Juni will love and it'll definitely have what we're looking for!' I send and I can see the bubbles popping up to show that he's typing but they go up and down a couple more times. He'll type for a little and then stop and type again and I can only hope that I didn't say something wrong in suggesting where to go.

When a few minutes go by I decide it's best to get out of bed and get a cup of coffee. That'll wake up my brain a little more and help me hopefully not make as much of a fool of myself while texting him.

I find Salem perched on top of his cat tree, still a little jumpy from me having scared him but I think it's made him playful more than anything as I watch his tail flick back and forth while he watches me walk up to him.

"I'm sorry for scaring you" I apologize again, scratching his between his ears but when I feel my phone vibrating over and over in my hand I jump again making him climb down off his cat tree and scurry under the couch. I sigh and scold myself as a result before taking a look at my phone, seeing an incoming call from Jungkook.

I almost drop it after reading his name but catch and answer before I end up dropping it.

"Hello?" I ask, slightly out of breath from the scare but try to hide it as best as I can. "Hi pretty lady!" I hear Juni call out in the distance, the phone no doubt on speaker phone. "Good morning Juni! How are you little one?" I ask, feeling more at ease talking to her first and my question awards me with a little giggle before she continues.

"I'm good! Daddy says we're going to a special store to pick out the butterflies for my room! Is that right?" she asks, clear excitement laced all throughout her tone. "Yes that's right Juni we are! Does that sound alright to you?" I ask and I can clearly hear how she's jumping from excitement from how punctuated her voice sounds now as she chants "Yes" over and over again.

"I wish we could go right now!" she says, her excitement too difficult to contain at the moment which makes me smile knowing that she wants to go right away. 

"Patience Juni, tomorrow isn't too far away" I hear Jungkook's voice coming through now and it makes my breath hitch, forgetting the fact that he had been there all along. He wasn't kidding when he said that Juni grabs everyone's attention right away. Given the chance I'm sure she would've talked to me for hours if her dad hadn't reminded her.

"That's right Juni, only one more sleep until tomorrow" I say and I can hear a little gasp from the other side. "Does that mean I can go to sleep right now and then we can go?" she asks, not understanding the concept entirely.

"Not unless you want to sleep for twenty four hours silly" he says and I hear a fit of giggles that could only mean that he might've tickled her but after a few seconds it's calmed down.

"How long is twenty four hours?" she asks, a constant roulette of questions gearing up if he doesn't answer this question correctly.

"You know how you woke up yesterday, went to school, came home, played with your toys, got ready, went to meet Ms. y/n, came back home, went to bed and woke up this morning?" he lists off and I can tell she's probably nodded her head all throughout his explanation.

"Yes?" she responds in a questioning tone, waiting for him to get to the point. "Well that's how long twenty four hours is" he responds and I hear jumping again once he's finished before an excited Juni calls out. "Does that mean we get to go see Ms. y/n again when I get home from school?" she asks and my heart melts at her excitement.

"Juni, we're seeing her tomorrow remember. I'm sure Ms. y/n is very busy tonight" he says and I hear a sad "Oh" from her and I contemplate my next words carefully before going for it. "Juni, would it be okay if I talked to your Daddy for a second?" I ask and I can hear her let out a disheartened 'Okay' before Jungkook takes the phone off speaker.

"Hey y/n, sorry she's a little hyper this morning" he says and I smile at his efforts to apologize for Juni's adorable disposition. "No that's okay, I love talking to her! She's a cutie" I say and he hums, "Try living with her" he counters and I smile, knowing that her excitable attitude might get a little tiring sometimes.

"I wanted to ask you if you would like to do something today after Juni gets home from school? Maybe meet you at the park? I forgot to give you Juni's dress last night after I washed it. I have to go back to my parent's house to pick it up anyway and theres a park around the corner. It's your call though. I don't want to go against what you told her" I say, rambling off nervously again but this time over the phone instead of texting and I regret ever offering it in the first place.

Why am I so freaking awkward?

"You sure you don't mind? I could always just get it from you tomorrow? I don't want to inconvenience you or anything" he says, giving me a chance to back out but not saying no to me, giving me a vote of confidence. "I wouldn't have offered if I minded" I say with a smile in my tone and he takes another second to think before giving me his response.

"She gets off at three, does that work for you or should we meet up later?" he asks and my heart skips a beat, knowing that I'll get to see him again so soon. "That sounds great, you can meet me at my parent's house if you'd like? The park isn't too far away so we can leave our cars and walk there" I offer and he takes a couple of seconds to think again before saying anything else.

"Juni, do you wanna go see Ms. y/n after school?" he asks and I can hear her little feet running around this time and repeating her response of ceaseless Yes's again. "Well I guess we'll see you later then. I can bring some food for us to take to the park if you'd like?" he offers and I shake my head before remembering that thankfully he can't see me in my sleepy state.

"No that's okay I got it covered. You already said you guys are taking me to lunch tomorrow so the least I could do is bring us food to share at the park today. Plus, I'm the one who suggested it in the first place" I explain and he chuckles before agreeing.

"Alright, thank you y/n. Should we show up around four then?" he asks, giving them time to make their way over after picking her up from school. "Four sounds perfect, I'll see you then!" I say and he calls Juni over to say goodbye. "Bye Pretty Lady! See you after school!" she giggles. 

I swear I'm never going to tire of her excitable disposition.

"Goodbye Juni! Have a good day and listen to your teachers okay?" and I can hear a faint 'I will' in the background, no doubt from her running off to do something. "Thanks again y/n, I know she's going to be so excited to see you today...we both are" he adds at the end and my heart skips at his confession. "Me too" I say quietly and we finish up our goodbye's before quickly hanging up.

I slowly walk over to the couch as to not scare Salem this time, grab the pillow next to me, put it over my face and scream into it. Although I tried to muffle it I still end up scaring him making him run off to my room, no doubt planning to be wary of me for the rest of the day but that's okay.

I get to see them again, I get to see him again.

I really hope I'm not wrong about thinking that there might actually be something between us already, something about this just feels right. I don't want to rush into this too quickly though since we don't really know much about each other. I want to take things slow and hopefully he does too.

Well...I hope he'll want to take things further but you never know, a man like him is sure to have a lot of options, right? I just don't want to set myself up for heartbreak. Gotta keep it together and not get too vulnerable with him, even if it feels like I should. 

I've already let him in a little, and he's definetly let me in a lot with letting me spend so much time with his daughter but I don't know, I guess only time will tell what's going to happen between us.

If there's going to be an 'us'.

~~~~~

The day drags on as I unconsciously count down the hours until I get to see them again but it seems as though time is standing still.

I've spent most of my day editing the pictures I took for a family friend's wedding since that's usually how I get my clients these days. I know someone who knows someone who needs a photographer and my rates are pretty fairly priced so they tend to hire me.

Going through picture after picture and seeing how happy they look together makes me wonder what it would be like to be truly happy with someone like this. Be so openly and obviously in love that no one can say otherwise.

As time ticks by though my mind wanders off until I realize I only have about an hour to get ready before I have to meet them.

"Shit!" I say aloud and get up to hopefully make myself look presentable enough, luckily I took a shower this morning so we're all set on that front. I still need to figure out something for us to eat while at the park though and if I had paid attention to the time it would've been a brilliant idea.

The only option I have left is to phone a friend.

"Y/n? Is something wrong?" my mom asks, the call on speakerphone while I try to fix my hair. "Well depends on if you can help me or not" I say and I hear her sigh. "Please tell me you didn't end up in jail" she says and I scoff at her obviously sarcastic remarks.

"Very funny mom, but for your information no I did not end up in jail. This is seriously something I need help with though. Are you busy right now?" I ask, hoping and praying her answer is no. "No I'm pretty much free for the rest of the day, why?" she responds and I let out a huge sigh before responding.

"Good! Can you do me a favor and throw together a picnic lunch for three? Well...two and a half" I ask, not wanting to give up who it's for but by her gasp I can tell she already knows. "Are you and Jungkook seeing each other again already?" she asks, and I can tell her eyes are as wide as saucers with her hand over her mouth, her reactions being the same since I was a child.

"Yes" I say, giving a one worded response leaving me turning down the volume on my phone when I hear her squealing. "This is incredible! See I knew you two would hit it off! I can hear the church bells ringing already" she says, jumping to conclusions as she always does.

"Mom can you please get the food ready for me?" I plead, going back to the topic at hand while putting some makeup on, nothing too crazy but not wanting to over or under compensate. "Yes yes of course. Leave it to me!" and before I can say another word she's hanging up the phone. "Well that was easy" I say to myself before going to my closet to pick out what to wear.

As I'm flipping through my options I see Salem come out of the darkness, scaring me half to death leaving me scoffing seconds later, realizing he's given me a taste of my own medicine "Okay I guess I deserved that one huh?" I say to him and he meows in response.

"Okay Salem this one, or this one" I say, placing my options in front of him and he sniffs both before swatting at the one he's chosen. "You don't think a sun dress is too much?" I ask and he meows almost as if he was telling me to trust him and so I laugh and give in.

"I hope Juni likes it" I mumble to myself, quickly throwing it on and rushing to finish getting ready. A few minutes later I'm giving Salem a couple tummy rubs like I always do and rushing out the door, praying that I'll get there on time.

The drive to my parent's house seems like it's taking ten times longer than usual and I'm constantly glancing at the clock, making sure that I won't be late but thankfully I get there with plenty of time to spare.

"Hurry up they'll be here any minute!" my mom says, practically having babysat the door to make sure I arrive first. "Nice to see you too" I mumble, never getting a proper hello from her anymore. "The basket is on the table and I put a blanket in there as well" she says rushing me over to where she's put it and it's at that moment she finally notices my appearance.

"You really like him don't you?" she ask, smugness laced in her tone as her efforts of matchmaking are slowly succeeding. "No! Yes...I don't know" I deny but I backtrack immediately since I really do like him. "I haven't been interested in anyone in years and so I don't want to try too hard but I don't know" I somewhat admit to myself, as well my mom that I'm really starting to warm up to the idea of being with someone again.

"It's okay love, he hasn't been with anyone in a really long time either" she says and I furrow my brow, "How do you know that?".

"Well Mrs. Jeon and I were talking about it last night and it seems like ever since his wife died he's been really closed off to love or the idea of dating again. He's tried a few times but they never went beyond a second or third date" she relays and I nod my head, distracting myself with looking through all of the things she had placed in the basket. 

I try not to let any expression spread across my face since I don't know how to feel. I don't want to say I'm happy that things didn't work out between him and another woman but it's also sad to think about how Jungkook might've felt when his wife passed in such a traumatic way.

"Thank you for telling me but I think I should start learning more about him when he feels comfortable talking to me about it. It's only fair right? I'm sure he hasn't asked too much about me and my past so I guess shouldn't either" I say and walk into the kitchen to get a glass of water.

"But he has" she says when my mouth is full making me spit it into the sink that was thankfully right in front of me. "He what?" I cough, trying to compose myself as I learn this tidbit of information. "He has asked about you. In fact I was on the phone with her right before you got here" I grab a paper towel to dab off whatever water I have left on me but before I'm able to respond we hear the doorbell ringing.

"I'll get it" she say knowingly, giving me another second to calm down before I have to face him. I take a few deep breaths, fix my hair and check my reflection as best as I can in the smudged steel finish on the fridge while listening to my mother greet them at the door.

While Jungkook and my mother exchange a few words I peek around the corner and notice Juni slightly tugging on my mom's pant leg. "Excuse me but where's the pretty lady?" she asks and I have to hold back the coos I want to let out so badly, my heart already a puddle at the sight of her pleading eyes wanting to see me.

"Why don't you go look for her?" she says and when Jungkook looks up his eyes meet mine immediately for just a second but long enough to know my cover is blown. I duck back into the kitchen to hide, convincing myself that he didn't see me when he clearly did. 

"Go on" he says softly when Juni no doubt looks up at him for approval and my mother follows behind her as Juni walks in the completely opposite direction from where I am, my mom trailing behind her, giving no hints and letting her explore on her own.

I assume that Jungkook follows them but when I hear what sound like his footsteps get closer and not further away I tiptoe my way into the pantry, completely mortified that I know now for a fact that he caught me staring at them.

I close the door almost all the way and ten seconds later I watch as his form passes by the little crack in the doorway and I hold my breath as if that might help but there's only one way in and one way out of this kitchen and both him and I know that.

Why did I even hide? What was I thinking? Way to start things off on the right foot.

While I'm busy scolding myself I forget to pay attention and stumble back when he opens the door. "Got ya" he chuckles and I clear my throat, "Yeah I uh, I guess you did" I say, trying to lean back against one of the shelves, stumbling over a box instead but quickly recovering.

"Why are you hiding?" he chuckles, leaning up against the door frame and crossing his arms making me look down and notice how one of them is completely covered in tattoos. I had never specifically been attracted to tattoos before but on him...

I lose track of what he had said and only realize I had left a lull in the conversation when he clears his throat. "Oh I-" I start off but when I hear my mother and Juni's voices in the other room I grab his shirt and pull him in, making him stumble inside, closing the door right away.

It's only when he hits the switch to turn the light on that I realize what I had done.

"I-" I try to apologize but when I look up at him I notice that there's something in the way he's looking at me that I have never seen before, making my words die in my throat. We stand there for what feels like hours but had only been mere moments just observing each other, watching those small changes of expressions and I start to feel dizzy under his gaze. 

The tension between us clear and building but it's only when he opens his mouth to say something that the door is thrown open and we're met with a squeal from Juni. She runs into the closet and grabs onto Jungkook's leg making him stumble forward and as a result pins me against the shelf, his hands resting on either side of me.

It's like the universe is playing some sort of sick and twisted joke on us, constantly putting us in situations like these and yet we had only just become reacquainted with each other last night. 

"I found you!" Juni squeals again, giggles as her cries of victory and she soon pulls on Jungkook's leg to try and separate us. 

"Daddy I wanna play with the pretty lady" Juni pouts and in her efforts of trying to pull him off of me he actually loses his footing and stumbles, our bodies fully flush against each other now, his face just inches away from mine. 

I blink up at him and he does the same to me, both of us frozen and not really knowing what to do. It's only when my mother chimes in and asks Juni to come with her to get a snack that that little bubble that had formed around us had been popped.

"I...sorry... I uh, tripped...you know...with Juni and everything" he says, fumbling his words like a school boy, taking a few steps back to be at a respectful distance again. "Yeah no it's fine. I um, I shouldn't have pulled you in here in the first place" I admit and he smirks, remembering the point that lead us up to the little predicament we're in. 

"Why did you pull me in here?" he smiles, glancing over at where my mom has Juni plopped down on the kitchen counter with a popsicle in her hand. "I take hide and seek very seriously" I explain, me being the one crossing my arms now and he chuckles at my lame excuse for my actions but accepts it anyways. 

"Right" he says and offers me a hand to lead me out which I reluctantly accept.

"Mom she'll spoil her dinner" I say, scolding her with Juni just lost in the flavor and sheer size of it. To be fair it looks adorable in her little hands. "It's alright, a little sugar won't hurt her. Plus we're still going to the park right?" he asks and I look at him and nod. "Right" I agree and lift Juni off the counter to set her on her feet. 

"Hi Miss y/n" she says with a bright smile with her lips and tongue stained a bright shade of red from the cherry flavor. "Hi Juni" I say and fix her little sun dress that she's wearing, it's almost as if we had planned to match and when she notices me straightening out her dress she look at mine and also notices the similarity right away. 

"Look Daddy! Miss y/n and I are matching!" she says with the toothiest grin I've ever seen, her front two teeth standing out just a little bit more making it another cute little trait she shares with her father. Although who knows if she'll keep that once she starts losing her teeth I think to myself and quickly fix her hair as well since it's gotten a bit ruffled in the excitement of it all. 

"That's right baby, you both look so beautiful" he says making my heart skip a beat. When I look over at him he's giving me a similar adoring look he gave Juni just moments ago making it even harder for me to not melt into a puddle. 

I'm beginning to notice that these two really know how to tug on a person's heartstrings, it's almost as if it were as easy as breathing and that's something that's gonna take a while to get used to. 

"Can we go to the park now, please?" Juni asks, her eyes going back and forth between the two of us and when I look over at Jungkook he nods. "Sure, are you ready?" I ask, turning back to Juni and she jumps up and down and chants 'Yes' over and over again like she had done this morning on the phone. 

"Alright let's go" I say and with one hand clutching her popsicle for dear life she uses the other one to grab mine and drag me towards the front door. 

"Juni be careful" Jungkook scolds but I turn back towards him and assure him not to worry and I can see how he relaxes at that. She's a little bouncing ball of sunshine, emphasis on the bouncing since she can hardly sit still most of the time unless she's eating, and even then she's dancing around and smiling happily. I swear if this girl gets any sweeter I'm gonna start getting a toothache.

I let go of Juni's hand while my mother entertains her so we can make sure we have everything before we head out and when I try to turn around to grab my cardigan Jungkooks already grabbing it and holding it out to help me put it on. "Oh! I can-" "I know" he cuts me off but doesn't make any moves to give it to me so I turn my back to him and let him do as he pleases, sliding it up my arms and over my shoulders.

He runs his hands down my arms, no doubt as an excuse to smooth it all out but it causes a slight shiver to run through my system and he let's go, surprised at the reaction. 

"You sure you're gonna be warm enough?" he asks, a hint of amusement laced in his tone making my cheeks heat up but I nod my head and quickly rush over to the table where the basket is so I don't have to face him but he takes it from me as soon as my fingers brush the handle, making our hands touch. 

"I can carry that" I counter and he shakes his head, "No I'll carry it, someone's gotta hold Juni's hand while we walk there" he says, clearly delegating our respective duties and I smile and nod again. "Deal" and at that we're out the door. 

~~~~

"Higher Daddy higher!" Juni squeals while Jungkook pushes her on the swing, his arms no doubt getting a little tired since she's been on it for the past ten minutes now and I can see he's losing momentum with every push. 

"Daddy's tired Juni. Can you swing on your own now? You know, just like I taught you" he suggests and she thinks about it for a second before saying a quick 'Okay' and clumsily moving her legs back and forth to keep the momentum going.

I smile as I watch Jungkook stumble over towards where I've been sitting on the blanket and watching them, adoring their father daughter relationship. "You're so good with her" I praise when he sits down and hand him a cold water bottle which he accepts right away and downs half of it. 

"You think so?" he asks, always unsure of himself but I couldn't think of a more perfect father than him. "I know so. She's lucky to have a loving devoted father like you" I say and he smiles softly, grabing one of the strawberries that my mother had packed for us. 

"You flatter me" he says, a slight blush blooming on his cheeks making me feel almost smitten with him. "It's the truth" I reenforcing what I've said and he shakes his head, finishing off the fruit in his mouth.

"Sometimes I feel like I'm not enough, you know? Like there's only so much I could give her" he says and I can tell from how his body language has changed that he's really thinking about how he wishes her mother could be here for her too.

"What was her name?" I ask and he looks at me curiously, not knowing that I'm on the same page as him yet. "Your wife, what was her name?" I say tentatively but when he registers it I quickly backtrack. "I'm sorry, you don't have to tell me that. I just figured that you might've been well..." I trail off and we sit there in silence watching Juni swing back and forth, back and forth until he decides to speak up. 

"Julie" he says softly, as if it had been years since he had spoken it. "Her name was Julie" he says softly and when I look over at him I can see the melancholy expression he's trying to hide. "That's a beautiful name, did you want Juni's name to sound similar to her's?" I ask, not wanting to make this conversation go dark but knowing that talking about her might cheer him up.

"Well, kinda. We wanted something that combined both of our names. It's silly, I know" he mumbles getting bashful about it. "It's not silly, it's wonderful to see in a way that both you and Juni are still carrying her with you everyday. It's a beautiful way to pay tribute to her" I reassure him and he smiles at me, mouthing a silent thank you. 

"I'm sorry, maybe I shouldn't have pried" I apologize again, seeing that it still has him feeling down. "No it's okay, it's nice to talk about her every once in a while. Thank you, for that" him now reassuring me and I nod, both of us left in silence for a while before Juni runs up to us. 

"Daddy what's wrong?" she asks, seeing the clearly deflated Jungkook as she gets closer and it's good to see that instead of brushing it off like it's nothing he doesn't hesitate to tell her how he's feeling. "I'm just a little sad, Ms. y/n and I were just talking about Mommy" he explains and she gets almost a look of understanding which is surprising for someone of her age. 

"Please don't be sad Daddy, remember you said Mommy is always watching over us right?" she say, giving him the talk that he's clearly had with her a time or two. "Right" he say, brightening up just a bit. "And she wouldn't want to see us sad when we think about her right?" she continues, an slightly stern tone creeping up which makes both Jungkook and I smile. "Right" he echos again and she nods her head in agreement. 

"You always tell me to look in the mirror and touch my nose, and my ears and my lips and everything else that you say reminds you of her and you tell me that she'll always be right here with me. So that means when I'm here with you she's here too right?" she asks again and he chuckles. 

"When did you get so smart?" he says, grabbing her and starts tickling her, making her squirm all over the place and when he finally has mercy on her and she catches her breath she answers, "Well I am turning five soon" she says matter-o-factly and I can't help but chuckle at that. "Oh right, how could I forget" he over exaggerates  and she giggles, grabbing his shoulder before leaning in to whisper something. 

"Daddy can we show the pretty lady a picture of Mommy?" she says almost at full volume leaving him flinching back. It's adorable how she still hasn't figured out this whole whispering thing. "Sure baby" he obliges and pulls out his phone, picking out one and handing it to her so she can show it to me. 

She surprises me by plopping down in my lap and putting the phone way too close to my face. "This is my Mommy, her name is Julie" she says proudly and my heart can't help but ache thinking this is the only way she's known her mother. "She's beautiful Juni" I say, putting my hand on top of her hand that's holding the phone and pulling it back so I can see the picture properly. 

"You really do have your mom's nose" I chuckle when I notice the same curved button nose they share leaving me booping her's and making her smile. She scrolls through a couple more photos giving me little bits of commentary that no doubt Jungkook has told her as she grew up and it's when I hear the soft click of a camera that I look back up at him. 

"Sorry, it was too perfect not to" he says, seemly enjoying watching the two of us and I can't help the way my heart skips a beat making me shy all over again. "Can we take some more pictures?" Juni asks, wrapping her little arms around my neck and squishing my face against her's leaving me laughing at how adorable this all is. 

Jungkook obliges and we take picture after picture after picture together until Juni is satisfied and has run off to play again. 

"I didn't even know that you brought that" I say, watching as he fiddles around with the camera, flipping through the photos he just took. "It was on the table right behind the basket" he explains and now that I think about it I do remember seeing the corner of a camera bag sitting next to it. 

He smiles as he looks at the pictures and I lean over to catch a glance at them but he pulls it back out of my reach. "Hey!" I chuckle and she shakes his head. "Not until they're edited" he refuses and I scoff. 

"You're not actually going to edit them are you?" I say, nervous at the thought of him spending hours looking at those pictures. "Why wouldn't I?" he asks as if I had said something confusing. "Well I mean, aren't you busy with work? I doubt you would want to take extra time out of your day to play around with them" I explain and he smiles. 

"Let me take a few more and then I'll let you see them" he says, angling his body so he's facing me. "Did you want me to call Juni back?" I ask but when I try he stops me with another click and I look back at him confused. "I meant of just you" he says simply but I can tell he feels a bit bashful from the way he's started to hide behind the camera. 

"I'm not used to being the one in front of the camera" I say, trying to figure out exactly how to pose but he chuckles and puts the camera down a little to take a good look at me. "I don't see why not, you're beautiful" he says casually as if those words hadn't sent my heart into overdrive. "I-" I start but the words just don't come out, especially when he places the camera down and leans in closer. 

He takes my hand and places it on the blanket so I can lean on it, places the other in my lap, angles my shoulders slightly away from him and takes my chin and softly tilts my head up, making the sunlight peer down on my face through the leaves of the tree we're under. 

"Just relax" he says, acting as if I could possibly relax after he had his hands all over me, posing me just how he wanted. 

I close my eyes and take a few deep breaths to clear my head and once I start to get that sense of serenity I hear a few soft clicks from his camera, taking picture after picture, him adjusting my pose by hand every time. 

"Daddy!" is the next thing we hear after who knows how long with the sight of Juni running over to us all covered in mud. "Is this your daughter?" a woman who is clearly out of breath says while trailing after Juni. 

"Juni what happened?" I chuckle, seeing that she's as happy as can be with a few smudges of dirt on her face and her dress all muddy. "Her and my son were playing over there and I guess he convinced her to jump in the mud and well..." she says, motioning towards Juni where I'm trying to clean her off as best as I can. 

"I hope she didn't cause you any trouble" Jungkook says, now feeling a bit guilty about the situation since he had taken his eye off her for a second. 

"No, not at all. If anything I should be apologizing for my son. I swear we look away for one second and he's as dirty as can be" she chuckles, finally close to catching her breath. 

"Can you tell the nice lady thank you for bringing you back?" Jungkook tells Juni and she does as she's told and I can see that she has just about as much of an affect on this mom as she does with me. If Jungkook's not careful she can use her cuteness for mass destruction if left unchecked. 

We hear a boy calling out for his mom that looks just like the woman in front of us now with no doubt her husband trailing after him. "Mom, Dad says it's time to go home" he says, his state twice as bad as Juni's. What is it with kids these days and mud? I chuckle to myself and when the boy notices Jungkook and I with Juni he gets a little shy. 

"Oh, hello" he says before he goes and hides behind his mother's leg, "Oh so now you wanna be shy?" his dad teases and snatches him out from his hiding space and whispers no doubt an encouragement for him to apologize. 

"I'm sorry for getting her all dirty. She was just really nice and I wanted to have fun with her" he mumbles and I can see hints of pink peeking through the streaks of dirt on his cheeks just like Juni. 

What did I say? Weapon of mass destruction.

"It's okay sweetie, I'm just glad you had fun" I say, brushing off his apology and when he looks up at me now I can see that his blush deepens and opts to hide behind his Dad's leg this time. "Alright well say goodbye" his mom says and he mumbles a quiet goodbye and gives Juni a shy wave compared to hers being one to match her outgoing and bubbly self.

"Can we play again tomorrow?" Juni asks him and he looks up at his parents for approval. "We usually come here around this time everyday after school so you just have to ask your Mommy and Daddy if you can come again" she says and when I try to deny her claims Jungkook jumps in before I can get a word out. "We'll be here" he says and Juni smiles so wide. 

"See you tomorrow!" she calls out to them and the trio waves goodbye one last time before heading to their car. 

"Mommy and Daddy?" I turn to Jungkook while Juni is busy doing a little happy dance before taking a drink of her juice box. "Well I um, I guess they couldn't help but think we're her parents so it felt best to not correct them" he says while rubbing the back of his neck, his cheeks dusted a light shade of pink just like the little boy's were when he was looking at Juni. 

"Right, and when they say something tomorrow?" I tease and he clears his throat, no doubt not thinking this whole thing through. "Well I guess there's no harm in faking it?" he says and now I'm the one that's nervous.

"Faking it? You mean you want me to pretend to be Juni's mom? Why?" I ask, flustered by the thought of it. "I'm sorry I guess I didn't think about how you might feel about it. I'm sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable" he apologizes but I rush to explain myself.

"I'm not uncomfortable I'm just shocked that you would want to go along with something like that to keep up appearances for people that we hardly know" I say, trying to figure out where his head is at. "Sorry that was a stupid suggestion we don't have to do it if you don't want to" he says and I shake my head.

"I mean I want to, but do you? I mean what about Juni? What's she gonna think?" I ask and watch as she chases a butterfly that has caught her eye. "We can just tell her we're playing pretend" he says and I raise a brow at him. 

"That's the best you got?" I ask and he chuckles nervously. It's funny to see that a tall, strong, handsome man like him is getting so shy about this but I'll play along, I just don't want to confuse Juni. 

"Juni can you come here for a second?" Jungkook calls and she turns and runs over to us right away, looking between the two of us since we're both looking at her with no doubt some very strange expressions. "You like to play pretend right?" he asks and she brightens up at the thought, "It's my favorite thing to do!" she says, twirling around in her very adorable muddy dress. 

"How would you feel if we started playing pretend with Ms. y/n?" he asks and she gets even more excited and does her little chanting of 'Yes' over and over again, a very adorable habit of hers. 

"So this is what we're gonna do, whenever we're out and about with Ms. y/n we're going to pretend like we're a family. You'll be the Baby, I'll be the Daddy and Ms. y/n will be the Mommy, does that sound alright to you?" he asks and she giggles and looks between the two of us, clearly loving the idea. 

"Yes let's do it!" she says, fully confident in her playing pretend skillset. "Alright Juni but there's one little rule" he says and she come in close, knowing that this part is probably a secret. "You can't call her Mommy in front of her parents or grandma and grandpa, got it?" he says and I fully agree with him, we don't need to get their hopes up when we still don't know exactly what we are. 

"Got it! Mommy?" she asks, getting my attention and trying on the name for size and I answer to it right away, somehow feeling almost natural already. "Yes Juni?" I ask, and she looks over at the playground for a second before looking back over at me. "Can I go play for just a little while  longer?" she asks, holding her hands together and giving me the cutest puppy dog eyes I've ever seen. 

"Go ahead" I say and she giggles and rushes off to run around just for a little while longer just like she said. "It suits you" Jungkook says and I look over at him curiously, "What does?" I ask with a tilt of my head. "You being a mom" he says and the words die in my throat. I've always been told I'd be a good mother when the time came but hearing it from him after what we just agreed to do just...

"Thank you" I say, my heart squeezing in a painful but also grateful way and he gives me a smile before he places his hand on my waist for a second to solidify his sincerity before walking a bit closer to the playground to watch Juni. 

I decide to start packing up the stuff we had brought and by the time Juni is dragging her feet back over to me and completely out of breath I've got everything ready to go. "You tired?" I ask and she nods her head, her blinks getting lazy as a clear sign that it's time for bed. 

"Why don't I carry her home...I mean back to my mom's house" I correct myself quickly but I can tell he liked the sound of what I had said, my implication being completely different from what he had imagined. "It's alright, I can carry her, we've got one pretty dress all muddy so I don't think we need another one" he chuckles. 

I pause for a second and pull out the picnic blanket we brought and hold it against myself before picking her up. "Problem solved" I say and he can't help but smile at my solution and quickly takes Juni's shoes off and wipes her feet clean as best as he can before taking the end of the blanket and  tucking it all up so she's practically wrapped up like a burrito. 

"You sure you can cary her? She can get a bit heavy when she's sleepy like this, especially since we've gotta walk for a little bit" he offers and I assure him I'm fine. "What kind of mother would I be if I couldn't carry my child home?" I tease and his eyes widen, clearly having forgotten the little game we're playing.

"How dare I doubt your capabilities as a mother" he chuckles and picks up our stuff, motioning for me to lead the way.

A few minutes go by and we're left in a comfortable silence on our way back to my parent's house and when I decide to speak up he does the same. "I-" "Tha-", "Sorry you go first" "No that's okay you go first" and we toss it back and forth a few more times before he hits me with the age old "Ladies first".

"Thank you for coming tonight and letting me spend some more time with Juni...well and you of course" I say sheepishly and he smiles. "I would hope you like spending time with me since you are my wife after all" he teases and now we've switched personalities. "You know, I think you're getting a little too comfortable with this already" I say and he smiles, playing with his lip piercing that I somehow only noticed right now, the silver glistening from the street lights.

There's so many things I haven't noticed about him yet, or even know about him but somehow everything seems so easy. 

"I mean can you blame me? You fit right in with Juni and I. Honestly better than I thought you would" he mumbles the last part to himself and I have to try my absolute hardest not to literally fall for him. I'm holding his daughter so I would one thousand percent say that now is not the time. 

"What?" I ask, needing clarification but he doesn't give. "Oh nothing" he smiles and picks up the pace, leaving me trailing behind him and right when I go to say something else Juni flinches leaving me slowing down and soothing her back to sleep. "Your Daddy is crazy, you know that?" I whisper to her as if she could hear me but the need to say something was too great. 

A minute or two later we're walking up to my mom's house and I twist my body to give him access to the small purse I brought with us and let him fish out the keys to open the door. 

When my mom hears us come in she goes to give us a no doubt overly exaggerated welcome home but as soon as she sees a very sleepy Juni in my arms she cuts herself off and switches to a hushed tone. 

"Looks like you all had fun" she chuckles and caresses Juni's head for a second, checking to see if she's really asleep and she very much is. "Maybe a little too much fun" Jungkook chuckles, seeing my mother slowly realize how dirty Juni had gotten. 

"She's a cheeky one isn't she?" my mom smiles lovingly and I can't help but wish this whole mom thing with Juni was real. "She is indeed" Jungkook agrees, and hands my mother the picnic basket. 

"Thank you so much for letting me steal your daughter today" Jungkook teases and I can tell that she absolutely loves this. "Honestly you can keep her. I hardly see her anyways" she says, giving Jungkook permission as well as sending a jab my way. 

"Mom" I groan and the both of them smile as if they delighted in my embarrassment. "I just might" he says softly while looking over at me and I can see my mom picking out the wedding venue as we speak, meanwhile I'm wrestling with myself to stay calm. 

We agreed to fake this relationship which means that everything he says is fake...right? I need to separate the real from the delusion but he unfortunately isn't making this any easier.

We say our final goodbyes to my mom and she watches until we walk up to Jungkook's car, no doubt still watching behind the curtain of one of our front windows, spying on us as if her life depended on it. I try to ignore it though because how we end tonight is really important to me. 

"Can I ask you something?" I say after he finishes putting Juni in the car, him closing his car door and walking me over to my car just a few feet away. "Anything" he says while ushering me toward it with a hand on my waist, a slight sign of protection since it's gotten a lot darker than we both realized. 

"When you said I fit in better than you thought I would...and that you might keep me, was that a part of this whole faking it thing we have going?" I ask, wanting to have an open line of communication with him. We're not shy teenagers anymore so as adults I feel like this is something really important to establish. 

"Do you want it to be?" he asks, standing in front of me while I lean against my car door. It still very much being locked as a very clear sign that I don't want this to end. "I mean we just met and..." I say, trailing off because I don't really know what I want. All I know is I like him. I really really like him and his daughter has got me wrapped around her cute little finger. 

"I know, we can take this slow. If this whole husband/wife thing is too much for you we don't have to do it" he offers and I shake my head, "No, no I want to. I just don't want the lines to get too blurry" I explain and he nods his head and leans his hand against the car right next to where I'm standing. 

"Blurry lines aren't a problem for me when it comes to you, it's your call though" he says and if my heart wasn't already racing it surely would've been now. I look up at him and hold my breath when he gets closer my eyes not leaving his and when he lean down I close my eyes, giving into whatever he wants to do to me. 

"Goodnight" he whispers, his warm breath fanning my neck making me lose my sense of reality for a second, wanting to lose myself in him without abandon. I can hardly breathe let alone think straight and he chuckles at that, standing up straight and ghosting his fingers along my jaw before stepping aside, a clear sign for me to get into my car and when I fumble with my keys he takes them and unlocks it and opens the door for me.

I sit down inside and look up at him, indulging myself for a few more seconds. When he hands me my keys he makes our hands touch only for a moment before saying a soft 'Drive safe'. 

When he closes the door for me I finally let out that breath I had desperately been holding back, watching as he walks back to his car with his little Juni still sound asleep.

I watch him pull out of the driveway and decide that even the way he drives is irresistible, giving me a small wave before he goes and while I'm lost in thought I almost jump out of my skin when I hear my phone ringing and my mom's name pops up.

"Mom I really can't talk right now" I say, putting her on speakerphone and starting to car. "Do not give me that y/n I am your mother and set you up with this man so tell me what is going on" she says and I sigh, checking all my mirrors and heading out as well just seconds later. 

"To be honest mom I don't even know. He's showing me very very clear signs that he's interested in me but I can't really say much of anything else at this point" I admit, the realization that the state of our relationship is anything but normal. 

"We just met last night and things are progressing fast, like really fast" I sigh, stopping at a red light, thankfully giving me a second to think. "Well I'd say this is all a good sign. I mean you're both in your thirties honey so adult relationships can progress a lot faster than when you're younger. He's a man that clearly knows what he wants and he wants you. So go for it" she encourages and I take it all in. 

"You're biased because you're my mother and would love to have his parents as your in-laws" I say and she scoffs. "Yes but that's not the point. You would be a fool if you let a man like him walk out of your life" she scolds and I know she's right. 

"I'll do my best to keep an open mind. But please don't talk to his mom yet, or at least not tonight. I don't need both of you losing sleep over this" I warn her but I know she'll do as she pleases no matter what. "You know I can't do that, but I'll do my best" she says and that is the biggest lie she's ever told but I'm not surprised since we dangled this whole thing right in front of her face. 

"You called her already didn't you?" I sigh and she chuckles. "As soon as I closed the door" she admits and I sigh, not the slightest bit surprised. "Alright mom well I gotta go but we'll talk again soon" I say, pulling into my parking spot and turning off the car. 

"Okay well keep me updated" she says and I can't help but roll my eyes. "Between you and Mrs. Jeon I'm sure you can keep each other in the loop" I say, putting my keys in the lock and closing the door behind me when I step into my apartment. "But I gotta go alright, I'll talk to you later" I say once again and hang up as soon as she says goodbye.

"Hi Salem" I sigh, watching as he jumps down from his cat tree and stretches before walking up to me, rubbing against my leg before walking over to his food bowl, clearly requesting the very late dinner I'm giving him. "I'm sorry boy, I guess I gotta get you one of those timed feeders now from the looks of it" I apologize and give him his food right away. 

I put a couple treats into his bowl as well as an apology and make my way back to my room to jump in the shower and think about everything that happened today. 

Jungkook basically admitted that he wants to get to know me better because he clearly feels like he can see a future between us and to be honest I pretty much feel the same way. It could be that we've caught a severe case of puppy love but I think we both know that this could potentially go somewhere. 

I love spending time with him and Juni, granted this is only the second time we've spent time together but still I can't get over the fact of how natural it all felt. Then he goes and pulls this whole pretend to be married business and now he's telling me he doesn't mind if the lines are blurred between us. 

This is all way too much for one day but I can't deny that I'm not enjoying the journey. This is progressing a whole lot faster than I thought it would but that doesn't necessarily mean that's a bad thing. I guess we've both got a whole lot of learning to do. 

prev / next Series Masterlist

Taglist: @jkslipppiercing @trina864 @kaitieskidmore97 @goddesofimortality @coolbluedude @coralmusicblaze @whoa-jo @00frenchfries00 @pastelpinkjoon @joonwater Rest of the tags will be in the reblogs 💜

Join my Taglist!

Feel free to fill out the form or just comment on any of my fics to be added :)

[landosjpg]

the black dog | ln

the one where you watch your ex boyfriend walk into some bar called the black dog.

lando norris x gender-neutral!reader

word count: ~1.9k

warnings: angst!!!!, happy ending so fluff as well, brief discussion of bad mental health, lando is a bit of a prick at some point, exes to lovers, one sexual innuendo (?)

note: based on this request and obviously the black dog by taylor swift. this is one of my favorite taylor songs EVER i got so excited when i got this request. i also love a good angsty, heart-breaking fic so giving this a happy ending was a bit harder than it should’ve but i hope you enjoy it!

“stop that,” you softly cooed, your hands cupping his cheeks to try and make him look at you.

the past few weeks had been harsh on him, and you could feel how every self-deprecating comment just made him drown deeper into his own head. you just wanted the best for him.

he didn’t answer. instead, he looked away again, trying his best to avoid your gaze at all costs.

“it’s just been a bad weekend, baby. next one will be better,” you added.

“stop with the optimistic bullshit,” he rudely said before you could add anything else to try and cheer him up.

you knew he was angry —rightfully so —after missing on a potential win only a few days before, but you couldn’t just sit and watch him bring himself down anymore.

“it just hurts to see you like this,” you mumbled.

“it’s hurting you?” he snapped, his tone accusing. “why do you have to make everything about you, every single time?”

as his words escaped his lips, he gently pushed you off his lap, immediately getting up from the couch.

“i’m just saying…” you tried to explain, although his words hurt more than you would ever admit out loud.

“i don’t care what you’re saying,” he cut you off. “it’s always the same story with you. the world doesn’t fucking revolve around you, you know?”

your lips parted, intending to defend yourself, but no words left your mouth. not like lando would had let you speak, anyway.

“this is the last thing i need right now, i’m done here,” he grumbled.

you froze at the tone of his voice, not having heard him talking to you like that ever before. and you didn’t do anything to stop him when he picked up his jacket and walked to the entrance of your apartment, announcing his departure with a loud slam of the front door.

he just needed time, you told yourself.

but he didn’t call, and you didn’t wake up to a simple apology in your messages and him asking to see you as you were used to.

and it had been forty-two days since he had stormed out of your apartment and, unknowingly to you, vowed to never talk to you again.

and after six weeks of no contact, you still missed him.

lando had been more than just your boyfriend, he had been your best friend for as long as you could remember; he was there, in every little memory you had.

you had always been the first person he ran to whenever the smallest thing happened, and for the past few weeks you had to settle for watching his life go on without you through pictures and media outlets.

and as much as your friends tried to tell you that it would get better, every morning without him just got harder than the previous one; used to having his arms wrapped all around you and his curls tickling your neck, waking up in a cold bed was certainly something you weren’t quite fond of.

however, he seemed to be moving on.

that’s what you thought as you sat in the darkness of your room, the only light illuminating the space being the dim glow of your phone’s screen as you intently watched the small, blue dot moving on your screen.

he had forgotten to turn his location off.

like every weekend since the break up, you watched him walk into some random bar in a different city, piercing a new, deeper hole in your heart every time. and you couldn’t help but hope that they played your song each night, that even the smallest thing reminded him of you.

but instead, every morning you woke up to a new picture of him leaving the place with some girl wrapped around his arm, while you could barely wear your favorite clothes because they took you back to a memory you shared with him.

you didn’t understand how he didn’t miss you, how he could be doing so good without you by his side.

୨୧

it had never been his intention to walk out of your life that afternoon. but when the anger washed away, all he could feel was shame.

guilt, for how he had talked to you when all you wanted was to help. and he wasn’t sure he could ever look at you in the eyes without the feeling overfilling his senses. so, instead, he did what he knew best: he ran away.

and the only thing that could take you off his mind for some time was drowning his own pain in alcohol every weekend, end the night with some girl’s legs wrapped around him.

but that night, he froze as the first notes of your song started playing; the song that had started playing when you got in his car the first time he took you out on a proper date. and the upbeat music took him right back to that day.

he could still picture the sight of your teary eyes as you walked into his apartment after another failed date —the guy hadn’t even showed up; the sound of your sobs as you buried your face on his chest, looking for some comfort, still making his heart clench.

“you deserve better,” he had whispered into your hair, placing a soft kiss on top of your head. “someone who’s willing to give you everything.”

“i’m tired of searching,” you had simply mumbled, feeling hopeless after so many disappointments.

“maybe you don’t have to search for it,” he had said before he could even think about his words. “maybe it’s been right in front of your nose all this time.”

at the underlying confession of his words, you raised your head from his chest to look up at him.

“hm?” you hummed.

lando had always liked you; but he had also been scared of you not reciprocating his feelings, of your friendship being ruined by the love he had for you. however, he had been completely oblivious as to the way you had always looked at him.

but that time, he caught the glint in your eyes as his gaze met yours, and so he confidently asked:

“can i take you out on a date?”

he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding as he saw you crack a smile, relief washing all over him.

“i would love to,” you mumbled.

he smiled at your reply, his thumbs coming up to wipe the remains of your tears.

“tonight, then?” he softly kissed your cheek before you nodded and wrapped your arms around his frame, unknowing of how the turn your relationship would take after that night.

he looked down at the girl who was grinding herself against him, trying to ignore the memories flooding his mind; but her eyes didn’t sparkle the way yours did as the song played. and he knew she just wouldn’t get the jokes he was so tempted to make, the ones that would send you into a fist of laughter despite of the many times you had heard them before.

in short, she simply wasn’t you. and he knew he wouldn’t ever feel that way with someone else.

“excuse me,” he said, trying to push her away from him.

he made his way out of the bar pushing in between the sea of people, his phone clutched in his hand the second he stepped a foot outside.

he sighed as he looked at his screen, the cool air making him come back to his senses; he couldn’t just text you. not after ghosting you for over a month.

but he missed you, so what else could he do? how else could he apologize for what he did?

୨୧

you turned around in bed as you felt the room being illuminated again by the screen of your phone, a message interrupting your attempt to sleep.

your heart skipped a beat as you saw his contact picture, followed by a simple “are you up?”. you couldn’t believe your eyes, anxiety coursing through your veins as you stared at the message.

“you still have read receipts on”

“say something, please”

fuck, of course. and you had been staring at his text for five minutes straight.

“what?” you simply typed with shaky fingers; it was dry, yes, but you were still hurt about how things ended between the two of you.

his answer came almost immediately: “just wanted to apologize” it read.

but nothing could’ve prepared you for his next message, asking if he could come over instead of doing so over text.

you hesitated for a few minutes; you knew you shouldn’t, but you needed closure as well.

so, naturally, you accepted.

you anxiously padded around your house as you waited for him, biting your nails as you imagined every possible scenario that could happen. five. ten. fifteen minutes, and then you heard a knock on the door.

the door opened slowly, revealing the figure of your ex-boyfriend.

you stepped aside and let him in, closing the door behind him and turning around with your gaze fixed on the floor. the silence was deafening,and the situation felt awkward.

“can i have some water?” lando tried to break the ice, his eyes fixed on you as you simply nodded and disappeared into the kitchen.

when you came back only a few minutes later with two glasses on your hands, he had made himself comfortable. you walked to the couch and sat next to him, with a considerable distance between the two of you.

“i just…” he broke the silence again, his voice low and slightly nervous. you didn’t dare look at him yet, so you looked down at your lap, where you fidgeted with your fingers.

you heard him sigh as he chose his next words carefully.

“i never meant to hurt you, or ruin what we had,” lando started. “it was a few bad weeks, and i know i shouldn’t have, but i took it all out on you. and then i didn’t think i could even look you in the face after what i said.”

you looked up at him, your eyes starting to water as you took in his words.

“you could’ve just explained yourself, i would’ve understood,” you replied with a thin, vulnerable voice.

“i was ashamed of myself after the fight and i thought running away from all of it would be the best,” he said as his gaze met yours. “truth is i haven’t stopped thinking about you for a single minute all this time. i really miss you,” he almost whispered.

“i…” you stuttered.

“i get it if you can’t forgive me,” his voice broke mid-sentence.

“‘s not that,” you mumbled, a few tears running down your cheeks. “just wish it didn’t take you this long.”

you noticed his pained expression as he noticed the tears on your face, quickly whispering a soft “c’mere” as he opened his arms. you sighed and scooped next to him, letting his arms wrap around your frame in a comforting hug.

“i’m really sorry,” you heard him whisper into your hair before he planted a gentle kiss on top of your head. “i won’t leave again.”

“promise?” you murmured, snuggling closer into his embrace.

“promise, baby,” he answered in the same low voice.

you nodded slightly, your eyes fluttering close as you took in his scent and the way his grip on you tightened, an oath to never let you go again.

[thealtoduck]

Greedy (Pt 2): The Morning After

Peter Parker x Male Black Cat!Reader

Warnings: Smut, bottom!Reader, top!Peter, friends with benefits, anal sex, semi-public sex, rough sex, unprotected sex, cum-in-ass, mention of breeding, sex on balcony, one of your neighbours watches from his kitchen and jerks off to it (with your and Peter’s consent, of course)…

Male Black Cat!Reader: Masterlist

Summary: It’s the morning after you fucked Peter senseless and you see another oppurtunity have fun on the balcony but end up being seen by your neighbour, Mr Smith…

——

When Peter woke up the next morning still in your parent’s bed, he noticed you weren’t in his arms, you weren’t even in bed and up looking around until he spotted you. The doors to the balcony stood open and there you were completely butt naked in the early morning sun.

Peter was lucky he healed fast from his powers after how rough you’d been with him last night. He stood up from the bed and walked towards you. You were leaning against the balcony railing, breathing in some fresh air as you heard Peter speak up.

”Y/n, you’re naked, come back inside someone might see you” Peter said. ”It’s six on a Sunday morning, Peter” you stated simply. Turning back to see Peter’s also naked body waiting inside. ”Join me?” you suggested lightly. Peter thought for a moment before he shyly stepped out on the balcony next to you.

It was weird feeling a slight breeze against his manhood as it hung out in the open, for everybody looking at the balcony to see. Though there weren’t any people to actually see, the early weekend morning left the suburbs silent as the dead of night. Not even the birds were awake to chirp.

”Bit disappointed you can walk today” you said, ”Maybe I should’ve been rougher with you”. ”No you were good, I just… heal quickly” Peter said hoping you wouldn’t take the hint that he actually does ”heal quickly”. You didn’t pick up on the hidden message and continued looking out over the other houses and yards.

Peter glanced at you, your naked form mixed with your complete nonchalance of the idea of people seeing it stirred up something in him. ”Tell me if you want me to stop” Peter said standing himself beside you before groping your right ass cheek in his hand.

You let out a small gasp at Peter’s action but didn’t say anything and let him continue, Peter stood himself behind you and squeezed the globes of your ass playfully. ”How does it feel?” he whispered in to your ear.

”Nice, continue” you let out softly. Peter placed kisses on the crook of your neck and worked his hands over your body. You felt your manhood harden at Peter’s touch and the feeling of his cock grazing against your ass.

Peter felt daring. He trailed a hand down your back to your butt, he felt his way down to your tight hole, running a teasing finger against it making you let out a needy little sound. Peter regonised that sound from you, it meant you wanted to be taken then and there.

”Out here… on the balcony, really?” Peter asked amused.

You shrugged with a small smirk on your lips. ”A guy wants what he wants” you said, bending over the balcony railing slightly, pushing your ass out to Peter, showing you were ready for whatever he wanted to do to you.

”Wait here a sec” Peter said, going back inside, he went to the bedside table and got the bottle of lube from last night. When he walked back to the balcony, you were just as he left you, obidiently waiting for his return.

Peter spread lube on some his fingers and asked politely ”Can I start?”. You turned your head slightly, a genuine smile on your face. ”Go ahead” you said invitingly, widening your stance slightly.

Peter started teasing a finger over you hole, before slowly pushing a finger into your enterance. Despite you being rather ”experienced” with other men you always felt just as tight everytime to Peter.

He added another finger inside you, as you let out quiet moans into the open air, looking out over the neighbourhood. Once Peter added a third finger, he could tell you were getting needy for his cock. You were hard as rock when Peter stroked your dick.

You were really getting a kick out of being outside for everyone to see (if they were actually awake). ”Peter, I’m ready-fuck, please just take me” you said as Peter placed kisses on your shoulder. He wasn’t used to you sounding like this, but he liked it.

Hearing the most popular, most wanted, most sexy guy at Midtown as good as beg for his cock made him feel good. Peter felt like he imagined jocks in 80s movies felt. He lubed his cock and lined himself up with your enterance and decided to tease you a bit, poking your hole slightly with his tip.

”You want it?” Peter teased slightly, kneading your ass proudly in his hand. ”You know I do” you said readily. Peter smiled and slowly started pushing his thick cock past your enterance, slowly insterting himself in you.

”Fuck” you swore at you ass slowly opened to accomadate Peter’s size, it was like he got bigger for everytime you bottomed for him. Peter bit his lip cockily as he watched his shaft disappear into your tight hole.

The way you gripped the railing hard while bent forward like that was almost to make Peter cum on the spot but he knew he needed to give you a nice long fuck.

Once Peter was fully stuffed inside you, you breathed heavily while getting used to his size. ”Fuck, yeah” you swore quietly to yourself, Peter put his hands on your hips readying himself for when you wanted him to start moving again.

After a while, you had been spread out to accomadate Peter’s swollen cock. You uttered a quiet ”Ready”, Peter slowly started pulling out of you before once again pushing in, setting a slow pace for the two of you to begin with.

You moaned quietly as Peter continued to place loving kisses along your neck and back. The scent of you along with the warm gripping feeling of your hole around his cock, was almost enough to drive him mad.

”Oh yeah” Peter uttered, eyes closed in bliss as he slowly pushed into you once more. He was dragged out of his fantasy by the sound of your voice uttering ”Pervert” in a annoyed tone. ”What?” he said, opening his eyes, confused thinking he’d misheard you.

”We have an audience” you stated, nodding in the direction of the house left to the one across from the balcony. Peter immediately paused his movements into you and looked in that direction and saw through a window on the bottom floor.

There handsome man in his mid-to-late twenties, standing in his underwear with a coffee cup in hand looking out through his kitchen window, he had obviously just woken up, and had a rather dazed and confused expression as he had just caught the two of you and ”activities” out on the balcony.

”Oh shit!” Peter swore swiftly pulling out of you, covering his crotch with his hand and running back inside to the bedroom. He had expected you to come with him but you remained out on the balcony, gaze fixated upon the man in the window.

”Y/n, come back inside! He saw us!” Peter panicked. But you remained on the balcony as unbothered as ever. The attractive man was still meeting your eyes. You knew him as Mr Smith, you couldn’t remember his first name, he hadn’t moved in too long ago, living in the house for maybe a month or two.

You noticed Mr Smith’s briefs had grown tighter in the croth area revealing his morning wood. His confusion turned into a seductive smile and he brought a hand down to his crotch and palmed his dick through his tiny briefs. He had been enjoying what he saw.

You bit your lower lip looking at the man, scanning his bidy, you didn’t know he was THAT well trained and you hadn’t noticed how good looking he really was until now. Maybe it’d be fun giving him a little show for him to ”enjoy” himself.

You moved a hand down to your dick and started stroking yourself, to the enjoyment of you neighbour who continued playing with his clothed cock. You turned back to Peter who was looking at you stunned from the bedroom.

”Wanna give him a show?” you offered in your seductive tone almost like a cat’s purr to Peter’s ears. ”What?” Peter questioned confused, what you were suggesting was a new level of adventure for him.

He had lost his virginty to you, all of his sexual experiences had always been with you and you only… this felt completely new and foreign to him… and yet he felt really curious.

Peter slowly stepped back on to the balcony, covering himself with both his hands. He stood himself beside you. ”That’s Mr Smith” you informed him. Peter made eye contact with the attractive Mr Smith who looked intrigued at the two.

Peter removed a single hand from his crotch and gave Mr Smith a shy wave. Mr Smith returned it with a friendly smile. Peter removed his other hand revealing his full naked glory to the stranger who looked impressed at him.

Mr Smith then put away his cup of coffee and slowly pulled down his underwear revealing his own hung cock, to you and Peter. The man could tell by your expressions only that you were impressed with the size of him. He slowly started rubbing his hand over his big cock.

But he was waiting for the two of you to start with the real show for him to watch.

You postioned yourself as you had been, before the interruption. And Peter stood himself behind you and slowly started to re-insert himself into your warmth. Grabbing your hips once more as he started moving slowly in and out of your ass.

He gave a glance to Mr Smith, who had started jerking himself in satisfaction of the show you displayed for him. But Peter wanted to impress him even more than that, he wanted to show the neighbour how good he could fuck you.

Peter gave a sudden thrust forward, his pelvis meeting your ass with a slap of your skin meeting. You released a louder moan and you uttred a ”So big” to which gave Peter a sense of pride. He started speeding up his thrusts in to your hole.

Giving you a sense euphoria as Peter’s cock jabbed at your insides, in a steady but rough pace. You glanced at Mr Smith who was beating his meat to the sight, he was licking his lips as he looked up to the two of you on the balcony.

To Mr Smith it felt as if he was allowed to watch the intercourse between two olympian gods on Mount Olympus, so beautiful and sacred but also inviting, but yet so far and off limits.

You moaned loudly on the balcony as Peter pummled your hole without mercy, as if you were calling out to your neighbour. As if asking him to help you and Peter reach your climaxes.

Peter grabbed your shoulder with one hand and your waist with the other to position you just right for him to plow your as hard as he could. Fucking his cock right into you, his tip jabbing at your prostate wildly.

”Peter!” you called out through heavy breaths and loud moans. ”Yes, babe?” he said confidently, loving your struggling yet heavily pleasured voice. ”Breed me for Mr Smith to see” you said blissfully.

”Yes, sir” Peter obliged delightfully and delivered several feral thrusts into you. You felt your orgasm building up from Peter taking you like this, then you glanced over at your neighbour.

And the combination of Peter’s loving rough thrusts and Mr Smith’s face as he was getting close to cum sent you over the edge. You let out a growling moan as your dick sprayed cum like a hose, some on the railing, some on the balcony floor and some shooting into the backyard below.

Peter hearing your moan was unable to control himself as he planted himself inside you with a powerful last thrust and uttered a satisfied ”Fuck Y/n” as his cock then drenched your insides with floods of his white sticky seed. Which started leaking out of you before he even had the chance to pull out.

As you both came down from your highs, you looked to Mr Smith down in his kitchen, who seemed to have came, his cum had shoot so hard it stained some of the window. He had a satisfied look on his face and gave you both a thumbs up in ”Thank you” and ”Good job”.

You both waved teasingly back at him, and he disappeared out of your sight from the window. Peter finally pulled out of your battered hole, making cum seep out and run down your legs and drip down to the balcony floor.

”Can you help me back inside?” you asked in exhaustion, feeling your legs shaking. ”Of course” Peter said supporting you back inside, you laid down on your front on the bed, the remenants of the mess Peter had made of you still clearly visible, hole gaping wide, splashes of cum on your ass and legs.

Peter took a mental picture of his work, it was an image he would never wanted to let go, all of this and you were still stunning as ever.

”You need help cleaning up” Peter asked, back to his sweet normal self, with a hint of boyish pride in his voice. ”No” you said simply ”I wanna stay this way a bit longer”.

”Besides, you should get cleaned up, weren’t you meant to go helping your Aunt with that bake sale for charity” you reminded him. ”Right” Peter remembered ”Can I borrow your shower and a set of clothes?”

”Go for it” you confirmed as Peter went and cleaned himself up.

When he came back clean and changed, you were laying on your side still butt naked, but drying of Peter’s cum with a towel. ”I need to get going now to make the bus” he said, Peter came and gave you a goodbye hug and kiss on the cheek.

”See you tommorow” you said stroking his cheek playfully. You laid back down on the bed as Peter turned to leave. ”Oh! And Peter?!” you stopped him.

”Yeah?” he asked turning back to you. ”If you see Mr Smith, please tell him he can stop by here whenever he wants” you said in a playfull tone.

”Oh right” he said a bit awkwardly and left the room and made his way out of your house.

You wanted to invite Mr Smith over? Peter thought as a feeling suddenly blossomed up inside him, jealousy. That man couldn’t fuck you and make you cum better than he could.

Then there was another feeling… confusion… weren’t the two of you mutually exclusive. Peter had thought so, but the two of you had never put into words what your relationship actually was.

Couple? Friends with benefits?… Just benefits?

Had you been messing around with other people on the side through out your friendship? He thought to himself.

Peter was left with the same questions through out the day.

[xuchiya]

unfair nostalgia || song mingi || one-shot

|genre: ex-husband! mingi. ex-wife! reader. angst. |mentions: divorce (mingi and reader). accident. temporary amnesia. seonghwa appearance in this. it mentions a lot of rain-- aftermath of the rain.

summary: After a tragic accident, Mingi's life inexplicably rewinds six years into the past. Believing he is still living in those days, he calls out to you—his ex-wife—convinced that you're still by his side as his partner.

word count: 19.8k

Your days dragged like a snail navigating barbed wire—slow, agonizingly slow and painfully. Each moment felt stretched thin, a painful reminder of the life you used to know. 

Placing your bag down on the couch as you make your way towards the kitchen and pull out the wine from the cabinet. Taking your favorite glass as you returned back to the living room.

Time had lost its meaning, blending one day into the next like an endless gray fog. Tonight was no different. You found yourself perched on the windowsill, a half-filled wine glass balanced between your fingers. The city outside pulsed with its usual rhythm—lights flickering on and off in distant buildings, traffic lights cycling from green to yellow to red and back again. It was all so mindlessly repetitive, yet you sat there, watching as if the monotony might somehow offer solace.

But it never did.

Your eyes, hollow and unfocused, stayed fixed on the scene outside as you took another slow sip. The wine, bitter and stale, barely registered on your tongue. This nightly ritual had become an empty habit—a way to pass the hours until sleep claimed you. Most nights, you didn’t even finish the glass before slipping into bed, leaving it abandoned on the windowsill like an afterthought.

Tonight was no exception. With a sigh that felt heavy in your chest, downing the last bits of your wine before you stood and shuffled to the kitchen. The sound of running water echoed in the quiet as you rinsed the glass, the coldness of the tap biting at your fingertips. It was only as you placed it on the drying rack that you heard it—the shrill, invasive ring of your phone coming from the bedroom.

Your head snapped toward the sound, your brows knitting together in faint confusion. Phone calls this late were rare, and never good. Reminding you of what happened six years ago. A simple sigh, still, you dried your hands on your pants as you made your way to the nightstand. Titling your head to read the caller.

Unknown number.

Your stomach twisted, a subtle unease creeping into your chest. With a hesitant swipe, you answered, lifting the phone to your ear. "Hello?"

Your voice sounded foreign to you—raspy, unused, and weary.

"Is this Mrs. Song?"

The words hit you like a slap. For a moment, you froze, the air in your lungs turning cold. You blink several times, clearing your throat in the process. "You must have the wrong number," you said quickly, your voice tight. "Look, I’m not in the mood—"

"Is this number 010242018?"

A chill ran down your spine. Your heart stuttered, then picked up in an erratic rhythm. "Yes... Yes, that’s my number. Who is this?" There was a pause, a moment heavy with something you couldn’t quite name—comforting, desperate, yet utterly unsettling.

"I’m sorry for the sudden call, ma’am, but we’d like to formally address this at Medic Hospital."

Your breath caught. The glassy haze of your evening shattered as your mind raced. "What? What happened? Who’s hurt?"

"One of our patients woke up just today and is asking for you. They gave us your name and number."

For a brief moment, you considered ending the call—brushing it off as a mistake or a cruel prank. But something in the caller’s tone, in the way your name had been spoken, compelled you to stay on the line.

"Who is it?" Your voice wavered, your grip on the phone tightening. 

The answer came, cutting through the air like a blade, regret washes over you as soon as you heard who it was.

"Song Mingi. He said you’re his wife."

The words slammed into you, knocking the breath from your chest. Your knees felt weak, your stomach churning as if the ground had fallen out from under you. The name that haunted your dreams, the one that turned your days into an endless loop of heartbreak, was suddenly back—alive and demanding your attention.

And just like that, the numbness shattered, leaving only the raw ache of everything you had lost.

You could have told the caller that you were no longer his wife—ex-wife, to be precise. That he had remarried and moved on, leaving behind the pieces of what once was. It would have been easier, cleaner—a way to shield yourself from the storm of heartbreak you knew was waiting to engulf you.

You could have told them to call someone else his best friend since middle school, or band mates, his family—anyone who had more right than you to be by his side now. 

But you didn’t.

Somewhere between the logical protests of your mind and the aching emptiness in your chest, your body betrayed you. Your feet moved, your heart thudded, and your brain chose silence over sense. Before you knew it, you were standing at the hospital’s reception desk, a name on your lips that felt foreign and bitter, like a taste you hadn’t revisited in years.

“Song Mingi,” you murmured, the syllables trembling as if they carried the weight of every sleepless night and unspoken thought. The name that brought has opened so many wounds that you have soullessly stitched back, how many times you closed your eyes and his crescent smile appeared before you, and the amount of tears you’ve cried silently that night he decided to step out of the door. Without looking back.

The nurse at the desk looked up, her face a mixture of concern and relief. She exchanged a glance with the doctor beside her before both of them rose to meet you.

“Mrs. Song…”

The title hit you like a knife, sharp and precise, cutting through whatever composure you had managed to muster. You raised a hand quickly, shaking your head as if to ward off the name. “No. No, that’s not me. I’m just… I’m just a friend.” The words felt heavy, a weak shield against the truth pressing against your ribs. “Call me Tulip.”

The nurse’s brows furrowed, glancing at the doctor as if silently questioning your response. But she didn’t pry. Instead, she nodded and gestured for you to follow.

“Let’s discuss the situation in my office, Miss Tulip,” she said, her voice calm and professional.

You followed her through the sterile hallways, your pulse pounding in your ears with every step. The name you’d chosen—Tulip—felt like a flimsy mask, a desperate attempt to separate the person you were now from the woman you had been when the name Mrs. Song was yours.

But no matter how hard you tried, the memories surged forward.

Each step toward the nurse’s office felt heavier, as if the weight of the past was dragging you down. And yet, some stubborn part of you carried on, pushing through the pain, the questions, and the overwhelming sense of dread.

Because no matter how much it hurt, you had to know.

“…So, he’s suffering from retrograde amnesia due to the impact on his brain, and his memory only stretches back to six years ago?” you repeated, your voice strained with disbelief.

The doctor nodded, adjusting her computer screen to show you the MRI results alongside the CT scan evaluation. The bright, clinical display only deepened the pit forming in your stomach.

“What about his…” The words clawed at your throat, desperate to escape yet refusing to form. Your lips parted, trembling as if even uttering the phrase would break you further. The doctor, noticing your visible struggle, finished the sentence for you, her tone gentle but firm, “His wife is still unconscious. There’s no telling when—or if—she will wake up, unlike Mr. Song.”

The room felt like it had shifted, tilting slightly, leaving you grasping for something to steady yourself. That word—wife—hit you like a punch to the gut, sharp and unrelenting. You blinked rapidly, your throat tightening as you tried to suppress the surge of emotions rising within you. 

“I see,” you finally muttered, your voice hoarse and barely audible. The phrase was hollow, void of meaning, as if saying it would distance you from the gravity of the situation.

The doctor continued to watch you carefully, her face a mask of professional composure, though her eyes betrayed a flicker of sympathy. But no amount of sympathy could soften the blow or untangle the knots forming in your chest. Unconscious. His wife. You swallowed hard, the bitter taste of those words lingering on your tongue, a cruel reminder of the distance between what once was and what could never be again.

You exhaled sharply, rubbing your forehead as the weight of the situation bore down on you. “Do his parents know about this…” You waved your hand in a circular motion, grasping for the right word. “…mess?”

The doctor let out a weary sigh, leaning back in her chair. “Yes. His parents are fully aware. They’ve asked if it would aid Mr. Song’s recovery to stay with someone familiar—someone who might help stabilize his sense of self until his memory returns.”

Your brow furrowed, and you crossed your arms, a clear ‘what-does-that-have-to-do-with-me’ expression etched on your face. Silence filled the room, heavy and oppressive, broken only by the faint hum of the hospital’s fluorescent lights.

The doctor took another measured breath, removing her glasses and setting them on the desk. Her eyes met yours with a seriousness that made your chest tighten. “While it’s true that his memory loss is temporary, there’s something else you need to know.”

The pause stretched uncomfortably long, and you felt the air shift—the kind of moment where you instinctively knew what was coming but still prayed you were wrong.

“He could stay with his family, it is every patient's right to choose and that would be more than enough for his recovery,” she continued, her tone careful. “But Mr. Song…” She hesitated, as though the next words would solidify an irreversible reality. “…has specifically requested to stay with you. He acknowledges his parents but insists that he needs you. His wife.”

Your heart lurched violently at the word, an invisible dagger twisting in a wound you’d spent years trying to heal.

“No,” you whispered, barely able to keep your voice steady. You clenched your fists, knuckles whitening as you tried to ground yourself. “That’s a mistake. He…he knows I’m not…” You trailed off, the word wife too bitter to say out loud.

The doctor’s gaze didn’t waver. “To him, you still are. His memory hasn’t reached the point where he remembers anything beyond that.”

You felt like the walls were closing in, the carefully constructed defenses around your heart beginning to crumble. The reality of his condition pressed against your chest, suffocating, as the doctor’s words echoed in your mind.

‘He still thinks I’m his wife.’

A low groan escaped your lips as your hands tangled in your hair, the frustration clawing its way to the surface. You had every right to feel this way. Six years ago, life had been entirely different. Six years ago, you and Mingi were a newly married couple, barely a month into your union. It was the first year of 2019, and you both believed tying the knot of a new year would make it all the more special—a symbolic start to a lifetime of shared milestones and growing together.

The memories came rushing back, unbidden and relentless. The dates that turned into adventures, the quiet evenings spent in each other's arms, and the tender, intimate moments that spoke of love deeper than words could ever convey. All of it played out like scenes from a movie you couldn't pause, set within the walls of the house he bought for both of you—a house meant to hold your dreams, your laughter, and your forever.

Now, here you were, forced to relive it all, the continuation of your adventure begins on the month of your marriage and throughout the years left such significant memories to the both of you. Every moment, every memory, was like a jagged shard piercing through the fragile layers of healing you'd painstakingly built over the years. The metaphorical scab that had formed over your wound was being peeled away, piece by agonizing piece, leaving the pain raw and exposed once more.

Your chest tightened as the weight of it bore down on you. How could something so beautiful, so filled with love, now feel like a ghost haunting you with the echoes of what you’d lost?

DAY 1:

The door clicked shut behind you as you stepped inside your small apartment, your movements heavy, like an anchor tied to your ankle. You flipped on the lights, the soft glow illuminating the modest yet warm space. Stepping aside, you gestured Mingi in, giving him room to take in his surroundings.

He lingered in the entryway, his eyes darting around the room. A faint smile tugged at his lips as he noted the simplicity of it all—cozy, unassuming, you. Yet, beneath the surface, his heart twisted, a subtle ache he couldn’t place.

“It’s… nice,” he said softly, his gaze sweeping across the room once more. His steps faltered when he realized what was missing. The walls were bare, the shelves sparsely decorated. No framed pictures of you and him. Not a single trace of the life you had built together.

His heart sank, and a small pout formed on his lips. “Did we move?” His voice carried a hint of sadness, as though the realization was too heavy to mask. You froze for a moment, gripping the edge of the kitchen counter. Turning to face him, you forced a casual smile. “Yeah,” you lied smoothly, though your voice wavered slightly. “Yeah, we did. Work, you know? I had to relocate to be closer to the office. I’m still… in the process of unpacking.”

His brows furrowed, his head tilting slightly, but he didn’t press further. Instead, he simply nodded, a faint shadow of disappointment crossing his face. “Oh… okay.”

The weight of his gaze followed you as you busied yourself preparing a snack. It wasn’t just the lie that gnawed at you—it was the memories. The house he had bought for both of you, the home that once felt like a sanctuary, now a distant, painful echo of what could have been.

Placing the snacks on the table, you glanced at him. He sat on the couch, his broad shoulders hunched slightly, his fingers grazing the armrest absentmindedly. It was as if he was searching for a comfort he couldn’t find. You sat across from him, handing him a glass of water. His fingers brushed yours as he took it, sending a familiar warmth through your skin. “Thank you,” he murmured, his voice quiet yet sincere.

“Don’t mention it,” you replied, your tone light, masking the storm raging inside you. You could feel his gaze lingering on you, searching for answers you weren’t ready to give.You focused on the small moment—sharing a quiet snack, pretending the weight of the past wasn’t suffocating both of you. It was all you could do to hold it together.

A thought hit you like a freight train once you offered to clean up (even though Mingi insisted). You only had a week. A week to help him recover, to guide him through this fragile state. After that, if it felt too much on your plate, his family would step in, as they had promised during that difficult phone call. They had been kind, their gratitude genuine, despite the invisible scars you bore from the past.

The understanding that this arrangement was temporary didn’t bring relief. It only deepened the ache in your chest. 

That night marked the beginning of something fragile and undefined—day one.

You had already marinated some pork earlier, intending to have your usual samgyeopsal for dinner, the plans for yourself were last minute change on the sudden changes of event. But knowing how your landlord frowned upon cooking indoors, you decided to take everything up to the rooftop. The cool evening air would help clear your head, or so you hoped.

Mingi, ever the helpful presence, joined you in setting up. His broad hands moved with a quiet purpose as he arranged the small table and chairs beneath the soft glow of the hanging orange bulbs strung across the rooftop. The lights swayed gently in the night breeze, casting warm shadows across the space.

You took charge of the grill, laying strips of marinated pork neatly across the metal grate. Now, the pork sizzled on the grill as you placed the strips carefully next to each other. The faint crackle of fat meeting flame broke the silence, and you used a hand fan to coax the fire higher, the smell of smoky marinade already making your stomach grumble.

Behind you, Mingi moved with quiet determination. You heard the faint click of a portable speaker, and a soft melody filled the air, one that sent a shiver down your spine. It was that song. The notes carried a haunting familiarity, weaving through the moment like a thread tying you both to a time when things were simpler, happier. Your breath hitched, and for a second, the world felt suspended.

Before you could turn around to glance at Mingi, warmth enveloped you—a strong arm wrapping securely around your waist. Your heart skipped a beat as his touch pulled you back into the present.

“Careful,” Mingi murmured, his voice low and steady, as though grounding you. He was close enough that you felt the faint rumble of his words against your back. His other hand lightly grasped your wrist, stilling the fan in your hand. Your mind is clawing at you as the thought of you have to share some dinners with Mingi, cook breakfast with him— and most painfully of all, to reminisce some memories with him.

You froze, the weight of the moment pressing against your chest like a vice. The music played on, and instinctively, he began to sway, guiding you with an ease that mirrored the rhythm of the song. It was a move from the past—a small, almost imperceptible dance you once shared under different circumstances. His grip on your waist was steady yet hesitant, as though testing boundaries he didn’t quite remember crossing before.

And just like that, the melody pulled you back—back to a morning that now felt like another lifetime.

You could almost see it, the hazy sunlight spilling through the kitchen window, warm against the wooden floor. The smell of fresh coffee and burnt toast lingered in the air, remnants of an overly ambitious breakfast attempt.

Mingi had been there, standing behind you as you flipped pancakes with clumsy precision. The ache of the night before still lingered in your muscles, and in between your legs—a pleasant reminder of tangled sheets and whispered confessions. His arms had wrapped around your waist then, too, steadying you as you nearly dropped the spatula.

“You’re gonna burn them if you keep flipping like that,” he teased, his chin resting on your shoulder.

“And you’re distracting me,” you’d replied, though there was no bite to your words. Instead, you let yourself lean into him, the rise and fall of his chest against your back grounding you. When he swayed you gently in the kitchen, humming the very same song now playing on the rooftop, you laughed, swatting at him with the spatula. “Mingi, stop. The pancakes—”

“Pancakes can wait,” he interrupted, spinning you around to face him. “This? This is more important.”

The memory faded as quickly as it came, leaving a dull ache in its wake.

Back on the rooftop, Mingi swayed to the music, guiding you with an ease that mirrored the rhythm of the song. His grip on your waist was steady yet hesitant, as though testing boundaries he didn’t quite remember crossing before. The orange glow of the bulbs cast flickering shadows on the rooftop floor, painting the moment with a bittersweet intimacy. You could feel his breath, warm against your neck, as he whispered softly, “This song… it feels important.”

You swallowed hard, the ache in your chest swelling as you managed a faint nod. “It is,” you replied, your voice barely audible over the hum of the music.

In that instant, it was as if time folded in on itself—past and present colliding in the tender pull of his arms and the bittersweet chords of a melody neither of you could forget.

That night, you lay awake. 

How could you forget? Of all things, how could you forget that your tiny apartment only had one master bedroom? It wasn’t like you hadn’t spent months adjusting to the space—living alone, needing only one bed. Yet, here you were, stuck with the reality that you’d now have to share it with Mingi. Now, the prospect of sharing the bed with Mingi felt like an unbearable weight pressing down on your chest.

The room was dimly lit by the soft glow of a single lamp, casting long shadows that danced eerily on the walls. You could hear the faint hum of city life outside, a stark contrast to the turmoil within you. Every creak and sigh of the building seemed amplified in the silence of the night, echoing the unease that gnawed at your thoughts.

The soft rustle of sheets beside you snapped you out of your spiraling thoughts. You turned to glance at Mingi, who was already asleep beside you. His presence was both comforting and suffocating. Memories of your past life together flickered through your mind—late-night conversations, shared dreams, the warmth of his embrace. Each recollection was a double-edged sword, bringing both solace and pain.

You glanced at the edge of the bed, contemplating if you could somehow sleep on the floor instead. The idea quickly felt absurd. You were already here, tucked under the same blanket, with no way out. Your heart pounded in your ears as you lay there, staring at the ceiling. 

Mingi suddenly murmured something, his voice low and muffled. Your breath hitched as you turned your head slightly to look at him. He was still asleep, his expression soft, almost boyish in the dim light of the bedside lamp. 

You reached out, your hand trembling as it brushed against his arm. The contact sent a jolt through your system, awakening a longing you had tried so hard to suppress. You pulled your hand back, staring at your own reflection in the mirror across the room. The person looking back at you seemed distant, hollow, as if the vibrant spark that once defined you had dimmed. It has always since the beginning.

Sleep felt like an elusive sanctuary, slipping further away with each passing minute. You buried deeper into the pillow, hoping to drown out the thoughts that refused to let you rest. But even in the darkness, the memories lingered—fragments of laughter, whispers of love, the promise of a future that now seemed like a fragile illusion.

Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision as you stared into the void.

Your mind raced with questions and fears. How could you help someone you barely understood anymore? How could you navigate the delicate balance between compassion and self-preservation, when every moment with him felt like walking a tightrope over an abyss of unresolved emotions?

The night stretched on, each hour dragging longer than the last. The minutes seemed to crawl, each second a testament to the fragility of your existence. You lay there, torn between the desire to protect him and the fear of losing yourself in the process.

Then he whispered again, and your heart stopped. 

“...Tulip,” he said, your name slipping from his lips like it belonged there.

You froze, the sound of his voice stirring something deep inside you. He hadn’t called you that in years, not since—

You shook your head, willing yourself to forget. This was all temporary. Just a week. That’s all you had to endure. 

Turning onto your side, you faced away from him, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself. But the heat of his presence, the steady sound of his breathing, and the lingering echo of your name in his voice made sleep feel impossibly far away.

As dawn's first light began to seep through the curtains, you remained wide awake, staring into the new day that mirrored the uncertainty of your heart. The challenges ahead loomed large, but so did the remnants of a love that refused to fade entirely. In that fragile balance, you found a sliver of hope—a determination to navigate the storm, no matter how tumultuous the journey ahead might be.

DAY 2:

When the morning sun peeked through the curtains of your room, it painted the space with a soft, golden glow. The warmth did little to chase away the exhaustion clinging to your body, but you stretched anyway, muscles protesting against the motion.

As the blanket pooled around your lap, your gaze drifted to the figure lying beside you. Your breath caught in your throat as familiarity tugged at your heartstrings. His lips were slightly pursed in a soft pout, his hands curled into loose fists beneath the pillow. For a moment, he looked untouched by the weight of the past, his broad shoulders free of burdens.

A quiet sigh escaped you as you gently pulled the blanket higher, tucking it around his ears, recalling his playful complaints about waking up with frozen ears. "They'll fall off," he'd grumble dramatically, drawing a reluctant smile from you.

Slipping on your fluffy slippers, you padded toward the kitchen. The clink of utensils and the scent of pancakes filled the air as you worked, each flip of the spatula grounding you in the present. But the familiar sound of heavy footsteps echoed behind you, accompanied by the deep rasp of his morning voice.

“‘Morning, love,” he murmured, and your heart stuttered at the endearment. The grip on your spatula tightened, anchoring you back to reality. You glanced over your shoulder, offering him a small, hesitant smile. “M-Morning, Min… Mingi.”

The words felt foreign, a mix of old habits and new hesitations. You could almost smack yourself for the stumble, but he didn’t seem to notice, his expression easy and warm.

You served the pancakes in silence, the clatter of plates and the scrape of chairs filling the space. “Thank you,” he said, flashing you a grin before diving into his breakfast with his usual unhurried pace.

You couldn’t help but watch, your own plate long emptied, as he savored each bite. His methodical movements were endearing—a rhythm you had once known by heart. With your coffee cup cradled in your hands, now cool and untouched, you let the quiet moments of the morning settle over you. The hum of the ceiling fan blended with the occasional scrape of his fork against the plate. But the tranquility wasn’t enough to keep the exhaustion at bay. Your eyelids grew heavy, last night’s restlessness catching up to you.

As your head began to nod, you jolted awake, your coffee sloshing dangerously close to the rim.

“You okay?” Mingi’s voice broke through the haze, his fork pausing mid-air as he looked at you with concern. You forced a smile, shaking off the lingering fog. “Yeah, I just didn’t sleep much,” you admitted softly.

He tilted his head, studying you for a moment longer than necessary, before nodding. The unspoken understanding in his gaze was both comforting and bittersweet, a reminder of the connection you once shared and the fragile peace of the moment.

“Figured,” he said, leaning back in his chair, his tone laced with quiet concern. “You kept tossing and turning. Something bothering you?”

You blinked, heat crawling up your neck and settling in your cheeks. Of course, he’d noticed—how could he not when you’d been forced to share the same bed? The situation felt both inescapable and unbearably awkward, every shared breath and subtle movement magnified in the silence of the night.

Your mouth opened, but the words refused to come, faltering under the weight of your swirling thoughts. "It’s been… a while, you know," you finally managed, the words stumbling out clumsily. “You’ve been in the hospital for weeks, and… yeah.” You trailed off, internally cringing at your own awkwardness, your attempt to downplay the turmoil inside you.

He nodded, his gaze softening with something that looked like understanding. Before you could process it, his hand reached out, enveloping yours in a firm but gentle squeeze. “I’m sorry, love,” he murmured, his voice low and heavy with sincerity.

Your breath hitched, the air in your lungs freezing as the word love echoed in your mind. That nickname—it was a relic of your past, a tender reminder of a time when everything felt whole and simple. But now, it was a cruel specter, dragging you back into memories you weren’t ready to face.

The pressure of his hand on yours felt like a burning weight, and the rising tide of anxiety threatened to engulf you. The doctor’s words surfaced unbidden, sharp and unrelenting: Mingi and his wife, their second anniversary, the plans for a getaway in the east province that had been violently interrupted by the highway accident. The knowledge clawed at you, tearing open wounds you thought had scarred over.

“I’ll clean up,” you blurted out, your voice tight as you pulled your hand away, retreating before the walls you’d carefully constructed crumbled entirely. You stood abruptly, gathering the plates in a hurried attempt to escape the suffocating moment.

Mingi was taken back by your actions but Mingi also stood up. “Nope. Sit.” He gently but firmly took the plates from your hands, his expression leaving no room for argument. “You cooked. I’ll handle this.”

“It’s really fine—”

He turned to give you a pointed look, one that felt too much like the old Mingi, the one who had always insisted on splitting chores despite your protests. “Sit,” he repeated, softer this time. You relented, sinking back into your chair as he moved to the sink. Watching him was surreal—his movements so natural, as though he belonged in this space, as though nothing had changed.

He rolled up his sleeves, his tall frame somehow managing to make your tiny kitchen seem even smaller. The sound of running water and clinking dishes filled the room, a strangely domestic symphony that stirred something bittersweet inside you. The gentle clatter of dishes being washed filled the kitchen, a sound so familiar it tugged at your chest like a forgotten melody.

Mingi was a whirlwind of unconscious domesticity—moving with an ease that made it painfully clear he didn’t just fit into this space. He fits into your life. 

It felt wrong. It felt right.

You rested your chin on your hand, observing him. The way he washed each dish with precision, the way he hummed a tune you recognized as one of his favorites, the way he smiled to himself when he caught you staring—it was all so familiar. And yet, the reality of your situation hung heavy in the air. But he didn’t know. He didn’t know that every swipe of the dishcloth brought memories flooding back. The mornings you spent together, him insisting on cleaning up while you teased him about his overly meticulous ways. The playful arguments about who made the better breakfast. The laughter, the love, the heartbreak that followed.

He didn’t remember the arguments, the pain, the long nights spent trying to piece together a marriage that had already fractured. All he knew was the version of you that existed in his mind six years ago, the version he still believed was his wife.

And the happily new married life he is in.

Your fingers tightened around your coffee cup as the weight of it all pressed down on you. Of all the people he could have chosen to stay with during his recovery, why did it have to be you? The ex-wife he didn’t even remember leaving behind.

He glanced over his shoulder, catching you staring, and his face lit up with a grin so pure, it almost made you forget how this all ended the first time.

“What?” he asked, drying his hands on a dish towel.

“Nothing,” you said quickly, averting your gaze.

“You’re a terrible liar,” he teased, leaning against the counter. You forced a laugh, the sound hollow even to your own ears. “Guess I’m out of practice.”

Mingi shrugged, completely oblivious to the storm raging inside you. He surveyed the kitchen again, his eyes lingering on the bare walls and countertops. “You’ve really changed things up, huh?”

You tensed. “What do you mean?”

“Just... it doesn’t feel like us, you know?” He gestured around the room, his expression a mix of confusion and longing. “Where are all the pictures? The ones from our trip to Jeju? Or the goofy ones we took on your birthday?”

You scrambled for an explanation, your heart pounding. “I... uh, have asked Seonghwa to come and bring it from your—our house,” you lied, forcing a laugh. 

Mingi nodded, accepting your answer without question. “Well, don’t take too long. This place could use a bit of ‘us’ again.” The sincerity in his voice made your chest ache, his words hit you like a freight train, and you had to look away. The difference of “us” is where the fights, the sleepless nights, the way you both unraveled until there was nothing left to hold onto unlike his is somewhere you guess is full of happiness and affection.

As he left the kitchen, whistling a tune, you exhaled shakily. Sharing your apartment with Mingi felt like stepping into a dream and a nightmare all at once—a cruel trick of fate that blurred the lines between the past and the present. Your hand trembled as you set the coffee cup down, the weight of the past and present colliding in a way you hadn’t prepared for.

So when the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow over the city streets. The day had been a whirlwind, filled with moments that teetered between awkward and oddly nostalgic. You barely had time to process any of it when Mingi, with his boyish grin and an eagerness that made your heart ache, suggested dinner at a noodle shop.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked at him. “Why? I mean, I can cook for you—”

He raised a hand, halting your words mid-sentence with a gentle but firm gesture. “You’ve already cooked for me twice today. Why not let me treat you for a change?” He reached for your jacket, draped over the rack, and held it out to you.

You hesitated, the weight of the moment pressing down on your chest. It had been a long time since you’d gone out—especially with him. The idea felt foreign, almost surreal.

“I—”

Before you could finish, he sighed, crossing the room to where you sat on the couch. He eased himself down beside you, the sudden proximity causing a jolt of heat to rush through your body. His warmth seeped into the small space between you, igniting a flush that climbed up your neck and settled in your ears.

“Take it as a date,” he said softly, his voice tinged with a playful charm that only made your pulse quicken. “For all the days I missed while I was in the hospital. What do you say, love?”

The nickname cut through your resolve like a whisper of the past, stirring emotions you’d worked hard to bury. Your mind raced with possibilities, weighed down by the unfairness of reliving memories you hadn’t asked to revisit. Was this wise? Could your heart withstand the bittersweet sting of nostalgia?

But when your gaze met his, every carefully constructed barrier began to waver. His eyes held the same spark you remembered—curiosity mingled with unspoken hope, as though he had just stumbled upon something new and couldn’t wait to share it with you. And then there was that smile, the one that always had the power to unravel your overthinking.

A quiet sigh escaped your lips as you felt your body relax against your better judgment. The battle between your heart and mind ended with a truce neither was happy about.

“Okay,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

His grin widened, and for a fleeting moment, the weight of the past seemed to lift, leaving only the quiet promise of a single evening.

When Mingi said that he wanted to try some noodles that he just saw some streets up where you both passed yesterday, you weren’t expecting it would be some other ramen house. 

Not just any noodle shop—Home Ramen House.

The ramen house that you and Mingi frequently go to whenever he feels like it. You hesitated, the weight of the memories tied to that place pulling at you. But his excitement was contagious, and before you knew it, you were sitting across from him in the cozy little corner booth you both used to claim as your own. Mingi scanned the menu, his eyes lighting up as though discovering it for the first time. “We’ll have the spicy seafood ramen and the dumplings,” he told the waiter, his voice filled with conviction. You blinked, startled.

It was second nature to him, a detail woven so deeply into his muscle memory that he hadn’t even realized it. The smell of broth wafted through the air, stirring emotions you had buried long ago. As the waiter brought out steaming bowls of noodles and a plate of golden-brown dumplings, the atmosphere shifted. The familiar clatter of chopsticks, the hum of quiet conversation from nearby tables, the way the condensation on the glasses trickled down—it all felt like stepping into a memory.

Mingi leaned forward, inhaling the aroma with a satisfied sigh. “This smells amazing,” he said, his eyes crinkling in that way that used to make your heart skip.

You nodded, stirring your noodles absentmindedly. “It does,” you murmured, trying to focus on the present. The first bite was pure nostalgia. The flavors exploded on your tongue, and you couldn’t stop the small smile that tugged at your lips. Mingi noticed, grinning triumphantly. “Glad you still love spicy ramens after you let me sleep on the couch for a week.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. Indeed it was true, it was the first time you tasted spicy food and it took you a lot of milk to calm down your tongue that was numb from the intense spice in it. Because of the influence of Mingi and him laughing at your red face, which he thought is cute, you told him to sleep on the couch. 

Conversation flowed easily, much to your surprise. He talked about the food, his thoughts on the day. You found yourself laughing at his terrible joke about dumplings being “wrapped gifts for your stomach,” despite the ache in your chest.

You had been too focused on picking up a particularly slippery noodle, and a rogue strand of sauce had made its way onto your cheek. Mingi notices it and chuckles, without missing a beat, Mingi reaches across the table, napkin in hand. “Hold still,” he said softly, dabbing at the spot.

The gesture was so natural, so tender, that it left you momentarily breathless.

His fingers lingered for just a second too long, and you caught his eyes—warm, familiar, and filled with a fondness that felt achingly real. Your pulse quickened, and you quickly turned your attention back to your bowl, muttering a quiet “thanks.”

As the meal went on, you couldn’t shake the sensation of déjà vu. The way he teased you for eating too fast, the way you both reached for the last dumpling at the same time, the shared laughter—it was all too much and not enough, all at once.

When the bill arrived, Mingi grabbed it before you could protest, his lips curling into that familiar playful grin. “I’m your husband,” he said, his tone light but laced with a deeper emotion you couldn’t quite place. “I should be treating you to the greatest things in life.” He added a playful wink that made you roll your eyes, but the warmth in his voice lingered, disarming you in ways you hadn’t anticipated.

Deep down, it was almost too much—the familiarity of the moment, the ease with which he slipped back into old habits. It felt like walking into a dream you knew would shatter the moment you woke up.

As you stepped out into the crisp night air, the world seemed quieter, the stars scattered above like a tapestry of fragile hope. Mingi tilted his head up, his hands buried in his pockets. The glow of the restaurant’s lights illuminated his face, softening the lines of worry and regret you had grown used to seeing since his accident.

“This feels nice,” he murmured, his voice carrying a hint of wonder, as if he were rediscovering something long forgotten. “Like I’ve found something I didn’t know I lost.”

His words pierced through the fragile walls you had built around your heart. You bit your lip, the ache in your chest swelling.

You did.

It was a truth you couldn’t say out loud, one you weren’t sure you were ready to admit even to yourself. Yet in the stillness of that moment, it hung in the air between you—unspoken but undeniable.

DAY 3:

The day began like any other—quiet, unassuming, and unremarkable. You woke early, your mind preoccupied with a client meeting about revisions to a blueprint. The sharp scratch of your pen against paper and the hum of your laptop filled the air as you scribbled down notes, entirely absorbed in the task.

The faint clink of porcelain pulled your attention. A steaming mug appeared beside you, its rich aroma filling the room. Startled, you looked up to see Mingi, holding his own coffee and offering a soft, familiar smile.

“Have a coffee first, love,” he said, his voice a soothing balm to your busy thoughts.

You took the mug, fingers brushing his briefly, and nodded your thanks. The nickname rolled off his tongue effortlessly now, as if no time had passed since he last used it so freely. It wasn’t just the words, though—it was the way he said them, laced with warmth and something deeper, something unspoken.

But the kisses? Those you hadn’t quite grown used to.

There was the time, just last week, when you’d been rushing around before a meeting, juggling your bag, phone, and scattered papers. Mingi had stepped into your chaos like an anchor, hands firm on your shoulders as he steadied you. He’d kissed your forehead so gently, it left you stunned. Without a word, he handed you a brown bag of snacks and ushered you to the car, driving you to work while you sat in quiet disbelief, his thoughtfulness lingering far longer than the ride.

Now, as he left a kiss on the crown of your head and stepped out of the room, your heart did what it always seemed to do around him these days—it stumbled, tripping over feelings you weren’t ready to name.

Yet, beneath the warmth that spread through your chest, a shadow loomed. With a soft sigh, you returned back to your work.

Later, when your meeting concluded, you found yourself sprawled on the couch, half-laying and half-sitting, as Mingi flipped through Disney+. He eventually settled on an Avengers marathon. The easy camaraderie, the quiet moments together—it felt so natural, so right.

And so unfamiliar.

Just as the movie’s opening credits rolled, a knock at the door echoes. Both of you turned toward the sound simultaneously, like startled meerkats. Mingi paused the movie and moved toward the small monitor connected to the doorbell cam. 

“Oh, it’s Seonghwa-hyung,” he announced. Your ears perked up. The memory of your impulsive request to Seonghwa came rushing back. After Mingi had offhandedly mentioned that the apartment did not feel like “ours,” you’d acted on instinct, reaching out to your best friend and asking him to retrieve a box of old photos from your attic.

The door opened, and there he was—Seonghwa, effortlessly chic as always, with his silver hair and the familiar box in his hands.

“Hey, babe!” he greeted, his grin infectious as he breezed in. You smiled back, leaning in for air kisses before he set the box on the coffee table.

“I’d stay and catch you up on all the office gossip,” he said, glancing at his watch, “but my baby mama’s in the ER—she’s about to give birth!”

Your eyes widened. “Oh my gosh, Seonghwa! Go, go, go!”

He chuckled, pulling you into a quick hug before turning to Mingi with a firm handshake and a knowing smile. As you walked him to the door, he shot you a look—one filled with silent understanding and something unspoken. As you walk Seonghwa to the door, Mingi had caught Seonghwa’s knowing look given to you before he left. 

The moment Seonghwa was gone, the apartment felt quieter, but in a strangely comforting way.

You turn around with a small smile on your lips, “Well the picture is here, let’s get started?” Mingi had helped you hang up the picture frames, most of them old photos of trips they had taken together. Mingi holding each of the frames made his hand tremble for no reason or that one reason why he suddenly had a flashback of where the same photo shattered on the ground, glass shards glinting like jagged tears in the sunlight. The arguments. The silences. The distance.

“Mingi, you okay?” Your voice, soft with concern, broke through the haze. He blinked, snapping back to the present. Forcing a smile, he nodded and placed the frame on the shelf. “Of course, love,” he said gently.

But you saw it—the flicker of something unresolved in his eyes. A shadow of a past neither of you dared to name but both still carried. You didn’t press him, though. Instead, you continued working side by side, filling the quiet with small, easy conversations. The unspoken truths could wait for another day. For now, this—rebuilding, frame by frame—was enough.

The golden afternoon light filtered softly through the windows, casting a warm glow across the room. You were curled up on the couch beside Mingi, your head resting against his broad shoulder, the toll of the early morning meeting plus the small clean up around the apartment made you tired. 

The lingering hum of your morning on-call meeting still played faintly in his mind. He had watched you work earlier, eyes fixed on your focused expression as you scribbled notes and responded to clients, your determination unwavering even through the early hours. Now, it was just the two of you, cocooned in the quiet intimacy of the moment. The world outside felt distant, irrelevant, as if it had been locked away somewhere far beyond the safety of your small apartment.

The silence between you wasn’t heavy. It was peaceful, almost sacred.

Beside you, Mingi shifted slightly. His fingers reached out, adjusting a photo frame on the coffee table without thinking. His gaze lingered on it—a snapshot of laughter frozen in time—before wandering toward the bookshelf by the window. The sight of the cluttered shelves, books stacked without rhyme or reason, brought a small, almost imperceptible smile to his lips. Some of those books he recognized as ones you’d read until the pages frayed; others were strangers to him, spines barely creased.

Then, like a wave crashing without warning, the memory hit him.

The bookstore.

His hand froze, mid-movement, gripping the edge of the couch as the vivid recollection unfolded in his mind. He could feel the chill of that rain-soaked day, the dampness clinging to his skin as you guided him through the streets after picking him up from the hospital. The weight of the moment had pressed heavy on his chest—uncertainty, exhaustion, and the fragile hope that maybe, just maybe, things would be okay.

You had found refuge in that tiny, unassuming bookstore. Its wooden shelves lined with worn books and the comforting smell of paper and ink offered a sanctuary neither of you had expected. You’d both lingered there, surrounded by stories belonging to others, as if searching for something in the words you didn’t yet know how to say to each other.

The memory of your hand reaching for his, tentative and warm, surfaced with startling clarity. It was a touch that had pulled him out of his own head, grounding him in the present, in you.

“Hey,” your voice now pulled him back to the room, gentle and curious. He blinked, his grip on the couch loosening as he turned to look at you. The concern in your eyes was subtle but unmistakable. You always seemed to notice when he drifted too far into himself, and for that, he was endlessly grateful.

“Just remembering something,” he murmured, his voice low but steady.

Your head tilted slightly, an invitation for him to share if he wanted to. He didn’t, not yet, but the way you leaned into him, your warmth so close, was enough to soothe the tightness in his chest.

The photo frame sat untouched on the table, a silent witness to the weight of the past and the fragile beauty of the present.

The memory of the rain, the bookstore, and your hand in his still lingered, but now, it felt less heavy. It wasn’t just a memory of pain anymore—it was one of quiet strength, of a moment where everything else had fallen away except for the two of you, finding your way back to each other in the most unexpected places.

Mingi sighed, his hand settling lightly over yours. “Thanks for being here,” he murmured, his thumb brushing against your skin in an unspoken promise. The quiet sincerity in his voice hung between you, tangible and real.

Your eyes fell to his hand resting on yours, tracing the way his fingers seemed to fit so naturally. Without thinking, you gave his hand a gentle squeeze. The warmth of your touch sent a flutter through him, “Thank you for letting me stay,” an inexplicable yet familiar feeling, like a forgotten piece of a puzzle finally sliding into place.

For a moment, the world seemed to shift, the sunlight filtering through the window growing softer, warmer, as if the connection between you had become the room’s very heartbeat. Quiet. Steady. Unbreakable.

And yet, beneath the tranquility, a faint ache lingered.

Why did he feel like something was missing?

“Do you remember the library we went to?” His voice broke the silence, soft and tentative, as though reaching for something fragile.

You looked at him, noticing the way his gaze wavered, a flicker of something unspoken glinting behind his eyes. Hesitation? Longing? It was hard to tell, but you could feel it—something pulling at him, tethering him to a memory his heart wasn’t ready to let go of.

You sat up slightly, your movements drawing his attention like a moth to a flame. His eyes followed you, searching, waiting.

“Do you want to go to the bookstore, Min?” you asked, your voice gentle, careful.

The nickname rolled off your tongue, easy and familiar, but to Mingi, it was both a comfort and a quiet reminder of something he couldn’t quite grasp. The corners of his mouth twitched, not quite a smile, as his heart reacted before his mind could catch up.

He nodded, almost absentmindedly, his eyes still on you as if the answer lay in the way you moved, the way you spoke. There was a dullness in his chest, a faint shadow of the vibrant emotions he once knew, but even in its muted state, it yearned for something more.

As you stood and moved toward the bedroom to grab your things, Mingi stayed rooted on the couch, watching you disappear through the doorway. His hand lingered on the cushion where yours had been moments ago, his thoughts a quiet storm.

The memory of rain-soaked streets and the quiet sanctuary of the bookstore flickered to life in his mind, tugging at the edges of his consciousness. He didn’t fully understand why the thought carried such weight, but the pull was undeniable. He exhaled softly, the sound almost lost in the stillness of the room. Maybe, just maybe, revisiting that moment would help him find what he felt was missing—something intangible, yet so profoundly important.

The rain caught them off guard. One moment, the sky was a dull gray, and the next, a torrential downpour had them sprinting down the street, their laughter mingling with the sound of splashing puddles. By the time they ducked into a small, tucked-away bookstore, both were drenched, water dripping from their hair and clothes. 

The rain stopped a few hours ago and the blue sky was enough evidence to not bring any umbrella yet they should have still brought it.  Mingi shook his head like a dog, sending droplets everywhere and earning a half-hearted glare from her as she squeezed the water from her sleeves. He grinned sheepishly, running a hand through his damp hair as he took in their surroundings.

The bookstore was charming in an old-world way—creaky wooden floors, overstuffed chairs, and the comforting scent of aged paper. His gaze wandered over the shelves, the rain outside creating a rhythmic backdrop.

“This place…” His voice trailed off as something stirred faintly in the back of his mind. “It feels familiar.” She glanced at him, her expression guarded, but said nothing.

Mingi meandered through the aisles, his fingers brushing the spines of books until one caught his eye—a worn-out copy of a novel that made his heart stutter.

Why this book?

He pulled it out and stared at the cover. A wave of warmth and nostalgia washed over him, but it was laced with something he couldn’t quite name, like trying to remember the details of a dream slipping through his fingers. Turning to her, he held up the book, a small smile playing on his lips. “Didn’t we read this together? I think I remember… something about this story. It’s special, isn’t it?”

Her eyes flickered with an emotion he couldn’t place, but it wasn’t the joy or excitement he expected. Instead, it was heavy, almost bittersweet. “You… you said it reminded you of us,” she replied softly, her voice tinged with a sadness she tried to mask.

 Mingi frowned, his thumb brushing the frayed edge of the book’s spine. “I did?”

There was a beat of silence before she spoke again, her tone carefully neutral. “You did.”

His gaze remained fixed on her, studying the way her eyes avoided his, the way her smile didn’t quite reach them. Something about her felt different—familiar, yes, but distant. Her eyes, he realized, didn’t shine the way he remembered. There was something missing, a light he couldn’t name but that he was sure used to be there. He had always told her that her eyes were like stars, vibrant and full of wonder. Now, they were like stars lost behind clouds.

The thought sent an uncomfortable ache through his chest.

“Are you okay?” he asked, stepping closer. She nodded quickly, too quickly, and busied herself with flipping through the pages of the book. “Yeah. Just tired.”

He wasn’t convinced, but he let it go, turning his attention back to the book. Sitting down in one of the overstuffed chairs, he motioned for her to join him. She hesitated before settling into the chair across from him, and they both fell into a comfortable silence.

The sound of rain against the windows, the scent of old paper, the warmth of the tiny space—it all felt so… intimate. As if they were stepping into a memory.

Mingi began reading aloud, his deep voice filling the space. He didn’t understand why the words felt so familiar, why they tugged at something deep inside him, but he didn’t question it. When he looked up, he found her staring at him, her expression unreadable. He grinned, holding up the book. “You always said I read too slow.”

Her lips twitched, and for a brief moment, there was a spark of something—something that reminded him of the past, of those star-like eyes. But it was gone just as quickly, replaced by the same guarded look.

Mingi leaned back in his chair, the ache in his chest deepening. Something was missing, something important, and it wasn’t just the gaps in his memory.

The rain had finally stopped, leaving behind a serene stillness that seemed to blanket the world in a gentle calm. The two of them stepped out of the bookstore, the sound of their footsteps splashing against small puddles on the cobblestone street. The air was cool and crisp, carrying the earthy scent of rain-soaked ground and the faint aroma of nearby flowers.

Mingi glanced around, taking in the scene. The streetlights cast a warm, golden glow that reflected off the rain-slicked surfaces, making the entire place shimmer as though it were draped in a thousand tiny diamonds. It was breathtaking, the kind of beauty that made him feel small and yet deeply connected to the world around him.

He turned his gaze to her. She was walking slightly ahead of him, her silhouette framed by the soft glow of the streetlights. The way her hair caught the light and the way her steps seemed to glide over the wet pavement—it all felt so familiar.

A tug in his chest pulled him closer to her. Without even thinking, his hand reached out, his fingers gently brushing against hers. She turned her head slightly, her eyes meeting his in the dim light. He hesitated for a moment, his hand lingering, unsure if she would pull away. But then, her fingers curled around his, and Mingi felt a warmth bloom in his chest.

To him, it felt like home.

Her hand in his was soft and warm, fitting perfectly as though it had always belonged there. He squeezed gently, his thumb brushing over the back of her hand. There was a comfort in the gesture, a sense of belonging that he couldn’t quite put into words.

For her, the touch was bittersweet. It felt like a memory, distant yet vivid, as though it were something she had dreamed of many times before. She glanced at him, her heart catching in her chest at the way he looked at her. His eyes held a softness, an affection that seemed unguarded, almost innocent.

The quiet between them wasn’t heavy or awkward. Instead, it was filled with unspoken emotions, the kind that didn’t need words to be understood.

The streets around them seemed to come alive in the aftermath of the rain. Raindrops clung to the leaves of the trees, catching the light and sparkling like tiny jewels. The occasional chirp of birds returning to their nests added to the tranquil ambiance. It was as though the world itself was holding its breath, watching them, waiting for something to unfold.

Mingi finally broke the silence, his voice soft and contemplative. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it? The way everything sparkles after the rain… It feels peaceful.”

She nodded, her eyes drifting to the shimmering reflections on the ground. “It does. Like everything’s been washed clean.”

His gaze lingered on her, a small smile playing at his lips. “You always used to say that, didn’t you? That the world looks brighter after the rain.”

She stiffened ever so slightly at his words, the smile on her face faltering for a brief moment before she quickly recovered. “Maybe I did.”

He frowned, his brow furrowing slightly as he studied her expression. There it was again—that fleeting look in her eyes, as though she were hiding something. It was like a veil had been drawn over her emotions, keeping him at arm’s length.

But then, she turned to him fully, her hand still in his, and smiled softly. “Come on. Let’s go home.”

Home.

The word echoed in his mind, and he held onto her hand a little tighter. The apartment they were heading to didn’t feel like the home he remembered, but her presence made it feel closer to what he thought home should be. As they walked side by side, the cool breeze brushing against their skin, Mingi couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to this moment than he could understand. Her hand in his, the glimmer of raindrops on the leaves, the gentle hum of the world around them—it all felt so right, so familiar, yet tinged with an unspoken melancholy.

And for her, each step they took together felt like she was walking through fragments of their past, pieces of a life they had once shared but could no longer fully claim.

The rain had stopped, but the storm within them lingered, quietly shaping the path they walked together.

DAY 4

The sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a warm, golden glow across the small apartment. You woke to the soft clatter of dishes in the kitchen, the familiar sounds weaving comfort into the quiet morning. Stretching lazily, you padded out of the bedroom, your footsteps light as you made your way toward the source of the sound.

And there he was.

Your feet slowed, hesitating as your eyes locked onto his figure. For a moment, the world seemed to blur, leaving only him—the man standing in the kitchen, framed by the warm glow of morning sunlight. A wave of nostalgia hit you, so sudden and raw it almost stole your breath. Your throat tightened as memories clawed their way to the surface, unbidden yet familiar. How many times have you stood right here, watching him? The way he swayed softly to the music playing from his phone, completely unaware of how the light kissed his side profile, softening his edges and making him seem almost otherworldly. Majestic, yet achingly human.

It was so vividly him. And yet, it wasn’t.

Because now, the unspoken weight of six years—years filled with pain, silence, and the harsh reality of your separation—stood between you. The barriers of divorce and his amnesia loomed like shadows, carving a chasm between what was and what could never be again.

You wanted to step closer, to reach out and shatter the invisible wall that had formed over time. But the ache in your chest reminded you that the past was no longer yours to claim, and the present...

The present felt fragile, like the sunlight itself—beautiful but fleeting, slipping through your fingers no matter how desperately you tried to hold on. And yet, you stayed there, rooted to the spot, watching him as if the act alone could bridge the gap between your pain and his.

You brought yourself back to reality, sighing as you made your way to the kitchen. Mingi stood at the counter, his back to you as he brewed coffee, his movements unhurried. The scent of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the aroma of sizzling eggs, creating a symphony of warmth that filled the air. 

“Good morning,” you greeted softly, your voice still touched with sleep yet a hint of heaviness in them. He turned at the sound of your voice, his grin easy and familiar. “Good morning. Did you sleep well?”

You nodded, stepping further into the room. “I did. Coffee smells amazing, by the way.”

“Help yourself,” he said, gesturing to the counter as he flipped an egg in the pan with practiced ease. “I figured I’d return the favor this morning.”

Your heart gave a small flutter at his words, a sensation that left you momentarily speechless. Grabbing a mug, you poured yourself some coffee, the rich aroma filling your senses as you watched him move around the kitchen. There was something almost mesmerizing about the way he carried himself—calm, assured, and so at ease.

“You always wake up this early?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder.

“Old habits,” you replied, shrugging. “And someone has to make sure the coffee gets made properly.”

He chuckled, the sound warm and contagious, as he turned to set two plates on the table. “You really do make a great wife,” he said offhandedly, his voice casual yet filled with something unspoken. Your hand froze for a fraction of a second, your heart tripping over itself before you forced a small laugh. “Maybe… I did.”

The two of you sat down to eat, the conversation flowing effortlessly between bites of food and sips of coffee. Mingi asked about your day, your work, and the little details you often overlooked. Yet, hearing his interest in the mundane felt oddly comforting, as though he wanted to be a part of every piece of your life, no matter how small.

When breakfast was over, you reached for the dishes, but he stopped you, his grin playful but firm.

“You cooked. I’ll clean,” he said, already gathering the plates before you could protest. Your eyebrow furrowed, “But … you cooked,” You whisper but he ignores your words and proceeds to lean against the counter, you watched as he rolled up his sleeves, his movements unhurried as he rinsed the plates. He hummed softly under his breath, a tune you couldn’t quite place but that filled the space between you with warmth.

And in that moment, something inside you tightened.

He looked so natural, standing there with soap suds on his hands and the morning sunlight catching the curve of his smile. So much like the man you remembered, but lighter now, as though a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Yet, there was a bittersweet edge to it—a gentle ache that reminded you how fleeting these moments might be. You couldn’t help but wonder if he felt it too, the quiet push and pull of time and memory, weaving something fragile yet undeniably real between you.

As he turned back to you, drying his hands on a towel, his smile reached his eyes, soft and knowing. “Thanks for letting me stay,” he said, his voice low, almost reverent.

You offered him a small smile, your chest tightening. “Thanks for being here.” 

And for a moment, it felt like the sunlight wasn’t just streaming through the window—it was radiating from the two of you, filling the small apartment with something unspoken yet profound.

Later that day, you find yourself walking through the bustling streets with him— Mingi wanting to walk around to memorize the place— the two of you weaving through the scattered crowd. The sun shines brightly overhead, and the remnants of yesterday’s rain glisten on the leaves and pavement, creating a shimmering path beneath your feet. As you turn a corner, his gaze shifts, locking onto an elderly woman struggling to carry several heavy bags of groceries. You watch as he pauses for only a moment before stepping forward, his long strides quickly closing the distance.

“Let me help you with those,” he offered, his tone gentle and reassuring. The woman looked up at him, surprised but grateful, as he effortlessly took the bags from her. “Thank you, young man. I didn’t realize they’d be this heavy.”

Mingi carried the groceries to her car, his movements easy and practiced. It was as though helping others was second nature to him, something he didn’t even have to think about.

You watch from a few steps away, your heart aching at the sight of him.

He’s always been like this—fiercely kind, endlessly giving. It’s one of the things you loved most about him. Memories flood back unbidden: the countless times he’d gone out of his way for you, fixing a broken appliance late at night, or carrying you in his arms when you sprained your ankle during that unforgettable hike. His kindness was a constant, a thread woven through every moment of your shared life.

When he returns to your side, his smile is radiant, his mood seemingly lighter. “Ready to go?” he asks, his tone so casual, so familiar.

You nod, forcing a smile. But as you fall into step beside him, the bittersweet ache in your chest deepens. The man beside you feels like a dream you once lived in—a beautiful, fleeting thing you can’t quite hold onto anymore.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asks suddenly, his brows furrowed in confusion.

You blink, startled. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve been quiet,” he says, his voice softer now, tinged with concern. “Is something wrong?”

The words catch in your throat. You hesitate, searching for a response that won’t betray the truth. “No, it’s just… you remind me of someone I used to know.”

He tilts his head, a teasing grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “Someone as charming as me?”

Despite yourself, a laugh escapes, lightening the heaviness in the air for just a moment. “Maybe,” you reply, shaking your head.

But as the two of you walk on, your smile fades. Watching him help the elderly woman had stirred something deep within you—a longing for the man he used to be, and for the love you once shared. To him, it was just another act of kindness. To you, it was a glimpse of the man you still love, even if the cruel truth of reality says he’s no longer yours to love.

Later, the afternoon sunlight pours through the apartment window, painting everything in a soft, golden glow. He sits cross-legged on the couch, flipping absently through a magazine he picked up from the bookstore. Across the room, you busy yourself at the kitchen counter, organizing the groceries, keeping your hands moving so your mind doesn’t linger too long.

“Can I ask you something?” His voice cuts through the comfortable silence, startling you.

You pause, glancing over your shoulder at him. “Of course.”

“Back there, when I helped that woman… You looked at me like I’d done something surprising,” he says, his tone light but his gaze steady, searching.

You set down the box of tea bags, turning fully to face him. “I guess I was just reminded of how naturally kind you are,” you say carefully. “You’ve always been like that—helping people without expecting anything in return.”

He tilts his head, his expression softening into something you can’t quite decipher. “I don’t think that’s anything special. Isn’t that what anyone would do?”

You move toward him, settling on the couch beside him. “Not everyone,” you reply, your voice quieter now, almost a whisper. “You’ve always had a way of putting others first, even when you didn’t have to. It’s… one of the things I admire about you.”

He holds your gaze for a moment longer, something unspoken flickering behind his eyes, but neither of you says more. You wonder if he feels the weight of what you’ve left unsaid. Or if the truth, the one you’ve been carrying alone, will shatter the fragile peace of these moments when it finally comes to light. He watched her carefully, the faintest hint of a frown tugging at his lips. 

“You talk like you’ve known me forever. Like we’ve been married for a long time.”

Her breath caught in her throat, the weight of his words pressing against her chest. Because honestly, it was true—every single word. Way back then, when your love was untainted by time or circumstance, the two of you had been inseparable. Two years of dating felt like an eternity and yet not nearly enough, as if every moment was still just the beginning.

Mingi had been everything—your best friend, your partner, your home. He had this way of looking at you, like you were the answer to every question he didn’t even know he was asking. And on your third anniversary, he did the one thing that solidified the depth of his love.

He proposed.

It wasn’t grand or extravagant, but it was perfect. The way his hands trembled, holding the ring box, his eyes shining with a mixture of nerves and joy. His voice cracked when he said, “Across all these universes, may my soul search for yours, destined to find you, to love you in every single one.”

He used to say your love was stronger than gold. To him, it wasn’t just a sentiment; it was a promise. He saw a future so vivid, so tangible—one filled with laughter, shared dreams, and the quiet comfort of growing old together. He had been excited to spend his life in your arms, to build something lasting and unbreakable.

And yet, here you were now, standing in the fragile ruins of what once was. The man who once held your world in his hands now looked at you with the same hopeful eyes, completely unaware of the truth that would break him.

The truth that your love, though still stronger than gold in your heart, had been twisted and reshaped by time. That his future, the one he envisioned so clearly, now belonged to someone else.

The ache in your chest grew unbearable, your breath hitching as the memory of that proposal flashed behind your eyes like a cruel echo. How could something so beautiful, so full of life, turn into this? How could you bear to look at him, knowing what you know?

And yet, you smiled, hiding the storm raging inside you, because this wasn’t about you anymore. This was about him, his recovery, his healing. The sacrifice of pretending, of playing your part, weighed heavily on your soul, but you’d carry it for as long as he needed.

Even if it meant breaking your own heart in the process.

DAY 5

The morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, but the weight of yesterday’s conversation still lingered in the air. You moved about the small apartment with a practiced rhythm, avoiding looking at Mingi too directly. He seemed more pensive than usual, his usual chatter subdued, as if he were trying to process something just out of reach.

The knowledge that he’d be returning to his family in just three days gnawed at you. The purpose of his stay was clear—these days together were supposed to help him recover before transitioning back to the care of his parents. But your heart ached at the thought of him leaving, even as your brain screamed at you to protect yourself, to not let him back into the fragile pieces of your heart you’d painstakingly put together after the divorce.

“I’m going for a walk,” Mingi announced suddenly, breaking the stillness of the afternoon.

You had come to terms with yourself, silently agreeing that this moment might be your only chance to recreate a life you once cherished. It was fleeting, you knew, but being with this version of Mingi again—so unburdened, so much like the man you had fallen in love with—made you feel like the person you had been six years ago. Even if it tore at your heart, the thought of reliving those moments, even for a little while, was worth the pain.

“Do you want some company?” you asked before you could stop yourself. He paused, his boyish grin spreading across his face in a way that sent a pang through your chest. “Always.”

You had come to terms with yourself, silently agreeing that this moment might be your only chance to recreate a life you once cherished. It was fleeting, you knew, but being with this version of Mingi again—so unburdened, so much like the man you had fallen in love with—made you feel like the person you had been six years ago. Even if it tore at your heart, the thought of reliving those moments, even for a little while, was worth the pain.

The two of you wandered through the lively streets, the world around you a gentle hum of activity. The buzz of conversation from passing strangers, the distant laughter of children playing, the occasional bark of a dog—it all blended into a comforting symphony. At first, the silence between you was tentative, but as the minutes passed, it softened, giving way to something familiar.

Mingi seemed more relaxed, his long strides unhurried as he pointed out little details that caught his attention—a street performer playing a wistful tune on a violin, a quirky storefront painted in bold, mismatched colors, the way yesterday’s rain sparkled like diamonds on the leaves of a tree. His enthusiasm was infectious, and you found yourself smiling, your heart lighter than it had been in days.

Then, as you passed a photo booth bathed in colorful neon lights, he stopped abruptly.

“Oh!” His exclamation startled you, his face lighting up with a mischievous sparkle that made him look impossibly young. “Let’s do it!”

“What?” you asked, blinking in confusion as he tugged at your hand.

“The photo booth,” he said, already pulling you toward it. “Come on, it’ll be fun!”

You barely had time to protest before you were crammed together inside the tiny booth, your knees brushing against his as the screen flickered to life.

“Pose!” Mingi commanded, throwing up a ridiculous face that made you burst into laughter.

The countdown began, and for the next few minutes, the two of you dissolved into pure, unfiltered joy. Silly faces, exaggerated poses, and moments of shared laughter filled the air. You forgot everything—the pain, the truth, the weight of what you were hiding. For a brief, blissful moment, it was just the two of you, exactly as you had been.

As the timer ticked down to the final shot, Mingi’s laughter faded, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath catch. Before you could process what was happening, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss.

It wasn’t rushed or hesitant—it was tender and full of longing, as though the six years that had separated you had never existed. Your mind reeled, your heart hammering in your chest. The world outside the booth seemed to vanish, leaving only the sensation of his lips against yours, soft yet insistent, familiar yet new. 

It was the same as the first time he kissed you—the same warmth that spread from your chest, the same dizzying sensation of the world tilting on its axis, the same undeniable certainty that this was where you belonged.

The flash went off, its light momentarily blinding, but you barely noticed. Your world had narrowed to the feel of his hands and the taste of the kiss that lingered, soft yet searing. Your fingers had moved instinctively, gripping the fabric of his jacket, as if holding onto him could stop time, could keep him from slipping away again. His fingers lightly cupped your jaw, grounding you, pulling you closer as if he, too, was afraid to let go.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested gently against yours, the faint warmth of his breath ghosting over your lips. His eyes, soft and searching, met yours, and in them, you saw everything you had once known—love, hope, and the promise of forever.

But the ache in your chest only deepened. He looked at you as though no time had passed, as though the years of separation hadn’t carved out pieces of your soul. Yet here you were, on opposite sides of a chasm you’d helped create.

He pulled away slightly, his gaze lingering, filled with an almost unbearable tenderness. It made your heart ache—an ache that spread through your whole being, a longing to pour out the words that had been locked inside you for so long.

You wanted to tell him how much you regretted signing the papers, how you had spent countless nights replaying every moment that led to that decision. You wanted to confess that you should have fought for what you had, that you should have held on tighter when everything was falling apart.

But everything was too late. Six years too late.

You blinked back the tears that threatened to spill, forcing a fragile smile as the photo booth’s mechanical hum brought you back to reality. And as the moment passed, slipping through your fingers like sand, you realized that some wounds, no matter how much time passes, never truly heal.

The booth fell silent except for the faint hum of the machinery spitting out the photo strip. Your emotions were a whirlwind—confusion, longing, hope, and a pain so sharp it was almost unbearable.

Mingi’s eyes searched yours, his expression soft yet unreadable. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice barely audible.

“For what?” you whispered, your voice trembling.

“For forgetting,” he said, his thumb brushing lightly over your cheek. “For making you carry this alone after the accident.”

Your breath was caught in your throat, some tears threatened to spill in the corner of your eyes. The accident. Not the divorce, not the heartbreak you thought he meant. His words held the weight of sincerity, of regret for memories stolen rather than choices made.

Your heart clenched, the ache deepening as you realized he was apologizing for something entirely out of his control. “Mingi…” you whispered, your voice barely holding steady.

The machine beeped softly, a sound that felt louder in the confined space, breaking the spell of shared laughter and fleeting joy. Mingi turned slightly, retrieving the freshly printed photo strip from the slot. As his eyes scanned the series of images, a small, almost wistful smile tugged at his lips, a mix of nostalgia and something unspoken shimmering in his expression.

“Look,” he said, his voice soft as he held the strip out for you to see.

Your breath falters as your eyes fall on the final frame. It wasn’t a silly pose or a playful expression like the others. Instead, it was a moment you hadn’t expected—a soft, unplanned kiss. His lips touched yours, the emotion behind it was unmistakable.

It was hauntingly familiar, a mirror of a moment from years ago—the tender kiss that sealed your vows on the altar. The memory crashed over you like a wave, unearthing a rush of feelings you thought you had buried.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The air felt heavy, charged with a mix of longing and heartbreak. His thumb traced the edge of the photo strip absently as though trying to etch the memory into his mind.

“Mingi…” you began, your voice trembling. He looked at you, his eyes searching yours for something—perhaps understanding, perhaps forgiveness. “I don’t know why,” he said quietly, almost to himself. “But this… it feels like something I should never have forgotten.”

His words hung between you, pulling at the threads of your carefully guarded heart.

For now, you let him fold the photo strip and tuck it into his pocket. As you stepped out of the booth, the cool air hit your face, grounding you. Mingi walked beside you, his boyish grin returning as he pointed out a street performer nearby, as if nothing had changed.

But something had.

As you walked back home, the atmosphere felt quieter, almost solemn, as if the world had slowed just for the two of you. The rain from yesterday had left everything glistening, tiny droplets clinging to the edges of leaves and the curves of streetlights. The golden afternoon sun filtered through the canopy of trees, casting a soft, ethereal glow that felt almost too perfect for a moment like this.

Without warning, Mingi reached out and took your hand.

His fingers laced through yours, warm and steady, grounding you in a way that sent a ripple through your chest. You glanced at him, startled, but his gaze remained fixed ahead, a slight furrow in his brow as though he were lost in thought.

“It feels right,” he murmured, his voice barely louder than the whisper of the wind. The words settled between you, simple yet profound, leaving you unsure whether he was speaking to you or to himself. Your steps faltered slightly, but his hand tightened, a gentle reassurance that he wasn’t letting go—not now, not yet.

The warmth of his touch lingered as the two of you continued down the glistening path, your heart a conflicted mess of emotions. You wanted to pull away, to keep your walls intact, but the pull of his presence was undeniable.

That night, as the city outside settled into its usual hum, you lay awake, staring at the faint patterns of moonlight on the ceiling.

The memory of his hand in yours, the quiet conviction in his voice, echoed in your mind. The fifth night had come and gone, and still, your thoughts revolved around one question.

Was this fleeting comfort worth the risk of reopening wounds that had never fully healed?

Day 6

The tension from the previous day clung to you like a second skin, heavy and unshakable. It had been impossible to look Mingi in the eye that morning, his boyish charm and newfound tenderness pulling at strings you thought were severed long ago.

As you finished tying your shoes near the doorway, you glanced at him hesitantly. Mingi was standing by the window, a book in his hand as his eyes skimmed on the letters inside, the golden morning sunlight casting a warm glow across his face. He seemed lost in thought, his fingers tapping lightly against the spine of the book.

“I’m meeting Seonghwa for coffee,” you said softly, your voice careful, testing the waters.

He turned to you, his expression unreadable at first. Then, slowly, he nodded. “Okay,” he said simply, his tone gentle but distant.

You blinked, surprised by the lack of resistance. “Okay?”

Mingi’s gaze softened, his hand snapped the book close as he walked toward you. “Okay,” he repeated, and for a moment, you thought that was the end of it.

But then he stopped in front of you, so close you could feel the warmth radiating off him. Before you could say anything, he leaned down and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead. The tenderness of it made your breath hitch, your heart lurching painfully in your chest.

“Be safe,” he murmured, his voice low and steady. “And enjoy your time with Seonghwa-hyung.”

You stared up at him, caught off guard by the quiet sincerity in his words. The warmth of his touch lingered long after he pulled away, leaving you standing there, feeling as though the ground beneath you had shifted.

“I… I will,” you finally managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

He offered you a small, boyish smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes but still carried a trace of the man you once knew. And as you stepped out the door, you couldn’t help but feel the weight of his gaze on your back, a silent tether that refused to let you go. 

The tension from the previous day clung to you like a second skin, heavy and unshakable. It had been impossible to look Mingi in the eye that morning, his boyish charm and newfound tenderness pulling at strings you thought were severed long ago.

You were desperate for clarity, for a sense of balance, which was why meeting Seonghwa now felt so vital. As you slid into your usual seat at the café, your chest tightened, and the weight of everything threatened to pull you under.

Seonghwa arrived moments later, his presence as steadying as it was piercing. His warm gaze swept over you, concern evident in the slight downturn of his lips.

“Hey,” he said softly, sitting across from you. His voice was gentle, but it carried an edge—a readiness to say what you weren’t ready to hear. You forced a smile, wrapping your hands around the warm coffee cup in front of you. “Hey.”

The soft hum of the café enveloped the quiet between you, but Seonghwa didn’t let it linger. He leaned forward, his elbows settling on the table, his fingers grazing yours with a touch that sent sparks up your arm. His voice was steady, yet his gaze carried the weight of unspoken truths. “Are you doing this for yourself, or for what you think you could have saved?”

His words hit like a jolt, unraveling the fragile composure you had carefully held together. Your pulse raced as you turned away, pretending to find solace in the rain-streaked window. “Seonghwa…” you murmured, your voice barely audible over the soft patter of rain.

“I’m not mad at you, babe,” he interrupted, his voice faltering on the last word, betraying the calm facade he was trying so hard to maintain. His eyes shone with a mixture of anguish and desperation as he leaned forward. “But I’m terrified. Terrified that you’re tying yourself to the past again, to him, when it nearly destroyed you the first time.”

The sharpness of his tone cut through you like a blade, leaving a dull ache in its wake. Your chest tightened as you fought to steady your breathing, to keep the tears threatening to spill at bay. “It’s not like that,” you whispered, though the tremor in your voice gave you away.

“Then what is it like?” he pressed, his voice softening but losing none of its intensity. The air between you crackled with unspoken truths and heavy silences. “You could’ve told the truth—” He exhaled sharply, closing his eyes for a brief moment as if bracing himself for the storm his words would unleash.

He opened his eyes, his gaze locking onto yours with a quiet pain that made your heart shatter. “The truth that his wife is now conscious in that hospital room. Why didn’t you?”

The night after you and Mingi shared a quiet walk under the stars, your phone buzzed with a message. It was from the doctor—the one who had delicately outlined Mingi’s condition, her words laced with a cautious hope that had felt fragile but comforting.

"Mingi's wife has regained consciousness. She’s currently in surgery, slowly recovering from the head trauma."

The words blurred as your eyes scanned them again, your breath catching in your throat. At first, they felt distant, like they belonged to someone else’s story. But then, the meaning sank in like a weight dropping in your chest.

Mingi’s wife.

The words struck you like a lightning bolt, jolting you into a reality you had somehow let yourself forget. His wife—the legal wife. The woman whose place you could never fill, no matter how fleeting the moments you shared with him had been.

Your heart plummeted as the realization hit you with earth-shattering clarity. For days, you had let yourself sink into the illusion of being close to him, of stepping into a role you had no right to play. And now, like heaven and earth colliding, you were reminded of the truth you had buried so deeply.

Mingi was never yours and no longer yours.

The thought tore through you, an ache blooming in your chest as you tried to steady your breathing. The walls of the room seemed to press in, the space shrinking with every passing second. Relief warred with despair, confusion tangled with longing, and you could barely grasp at the threads of your own emotions. Somewhere, the rational part of you knew this was how it was supposed to be—that Mingi would return to her arms, to the life he had built with someone else. But knowing didn’t make it hurt any less.

The question struck like a hammer to your chest, robbing you of breath. You turned your head away, your eyes squeezing shut as if that could block out the weight of his words. The ache of emotions you had buried deep within clawed its way to the surface, and you felt the sting of suppressed tears.

“Because…” you began, your voice barely above a whisper, raw and broken. “Because he needed someone.” You forced yourself to meet his gaze, your eyes swimming with unshed tears. “He woke up not knowing anything, Seonghwa. Not even himself. How could I just leave him to that kind of emptiness?”

His jaw tightened as he searched your face, his shoulders slumping with the weight of his frustration and fear. “And what about you?” he asked, his voice trembling, barely holding together. “What about your emptiness? What about the nights you couldn’t breathe, the times I had to hold you together because you couldn’t stand on your own? What about everything you’ve been through?”

You couldn’t answer. The words lodged in your throat like shards of glass, too sharp to speak.

He reached out, his hand hovering near yours before retreating, his fingers curling into a fist. “How do you think this ends for you?” His voice cracked, and the vulnerability in it made your chest tighten further. “Do you think this fixes anything? Or are you just breaking yourself all over again for someone who might not even give a second look the moment they remember?”

Tears brimmed in your eyes as you met his gaze, his expression so raw, so full of love and worry, it almost undid you. “I don’t know,” you said honestly, your voice barely a whisper. “But he’s not the same, Seonghwa. He’s… different. He doesn’t remember the fights or the divorce. He doesn’t remember why we fell apart. He only remembers me—us. And it’s…” You trailed off, your voice breaking under the weight of unsaid words.

“It’s what?” Seonghwa prompted, his hand reaching across the table to hold yours, grounding you.

“It’s killing me,” you confessed, the tears spilling over now. “To see him like this, to see him not remember the life we had—or the pain that ended it. It’s like I’m living in this cruel, beautiful lie.”

Seonghwa inhaled sharply, his grip tightening on your hand. “You’re not responsible for fixing him,” he said firmly, though his voice trembled with emotion. “You’ve already given so much of yourself to him. I’m scared you’ll lose what’s left.”

The rawness in his voice shattered something inside you, and for the first time, you let yourself feel the full weight of his words.

“I just…” You swallowed hard, trying to steady yourself. “I needed to be there for him. Even if it’s only for now.”

The weight of the unspoken hung heavily between you and Seonghwa, a reminder of the ticking clock counting down the days until he would leave. You tried to ignore it, burying the ache deep within, but it clawed relentlessly at the edges of your resolve.

Before either of you could say more, your phone buzzed against the table, the sound jarring in the heavy silence. You glanced down and froze when you saw Mingi’s name flashing on the screen.

Seonghwa’s eyes flicked to the phone, his expression calm but his jaw tight. “Answer it,” he said softly, though the tension in his voice betrayed him.

With trembling hands, you swiped to accept the call. “Hello?”

“Hey,” Mingi’s voice came through, warm and familiar. For a moment, it felt like coming home. But there was an edge to his tone, a weight you couldn’t quite place. “I was just thinking about you. Can we talk when you get back?”

Your heart clenched at his words, his longing bleeding through the line. “Yeah,” you managed to say, your voice thick with unspoken emotions.

When you hung up, Seonghwa was watching you, his dark eyes searching yours. “He remembers you,” he said quietly, each word measured. “But not the pain. Not the fights. Not the divorce.”

You nodded, your fingers trembling as you wiped at the tears threatening to fall. “And I don’t know if that makes it better or worse.”

Seonghwa reached out, his hand finding yours again. His thumb brushed softly against your knuckles, grounding you in the present even as the past threatened to overwhelm. “I’ll support you, no matter what,” he said, his voice steady but laced with quiet anguish. “But promise me, if it gets too much, you’ll walk away. You deserve a future—not a life trapped in the shadows of what could’ve been.”

You nodded, but the promise felt fragile, like a thread stretched too thin. “I’ll try,” you whispered.

His gaze softened, though the worry lingered in his eyes. “That’s all I ask.”

“A drive?” you repeated, startled. On the way back home and after bidding goodbye to Seonghwa, your nerves were everywhere, anxiety rising as to what Mingi wanted to talk about. Your mind races with many thoughts and one of them were the conversations you just had with Mingi and dread washed over you.

“Yeah,” he said, already standing. He was already in his sweater and jeans, the keys juggling in his palm,  “It’s been so long since I’ve just… gone somewhere for no reason. You in?”

The logical part of you wanted to decline, to keep the boundaries clear, to protect your heart. But the part of you still tethered to him—the part that had never quite let go—nodded. “Okay.”

The car hummed softly as it came to life, the familiar sound filling the quiet. Once you hit the open road, Mingi rolled down the windows, letting the cool night air rush in. It carried the scent of damp asphalt and distant pine, and for a moment, you felt like you’d stepped back in time. He fiddled with the radio, flipping through stations until a familiar melody filled the car. A smile spread across his face. “Remember this?”

You nodded, the song tugging at memories you thought you’d buried. It was your song—the one that played on countless late-night drives, the soundtrack to a thousand shared moments.

Mingi’s grin widened as he sang along, his voice exaggerated and dramatic. His arms gestured wildly, just like he used to, and you couldn’t help but laugh. The sound bubbled up, surprising even you, cutting through the heaviness that had settled in your chest.

“Your turn,” he said, glancing at you with a teasing smile.

“I don’t sing,” you replied, shaking your head.

“Your voice is my favorite song,” he said, the words slipping out so naturally they caught you off guard. Your laughter faded, replaced by a quiet ache. You turned your gaze to the window, watching the darkened trees blur past. “I hope you still do.”

The miles stretched out beneath you, the city lights fading into quieter, darker roads. The wind whipped through your hair, wild and untamed, but you didn’t bother to fix it. For a fleeting moment, it felt like nothing else mattered—just the open road, the music, and him.

But the memories crept in, unbidden and sharp. The countless nights spent in this very seat, his hand brushing yours on the gearshift. The shared dreams, the unspoken promises, the way you’d believed you were untouchable.

“Mingi,” you said softly, your voice barely audible over the engine’s hum.

He turned to you, his expression curious.

“Why did you want to go for a drive?”

He hesitated, his gaze flickering to the road ahead before answering. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “But I do remember, this is our sweet grand escape.”

You nodded, your throat tight. “It is.” And in that moment, with the road stretching endlessly ahead, you wondered if you’d ever truly move forward—or if some part of you would always be here, caught between what was and what could have been.

The road ahead stretched out in silence, the hum of the engine blending with the soft whispers of the wind. By the time you turned back toward the city, the air had grown colder, carrying the faint scent of pine and damp earth. The stars above were scattered like fragments of light against the inky blackness, their brilliance mirrored in your quiet longing.

Mingi reached over, his hand finding the console between you. His fingers brushed against yours—light, tentative, as if testing the boundaries of something fragile. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver through you, and your breath hitched before you could stop it.

“I don’t know what it is,” he said, breaking the silence. His voice was quiet, as though he feared the weight of his words might shatter the delicate moment. His eyes remained fixed on the road ahead, but you could see the tension in his jaw, the vulnerability etched into his profile.

“But being with you…” he continued, his words catching slightly, as though they carried more than he could say. “It feels like I’m home. Like I’ve been away for a long time, and now I’m finally back where I belong.”

The confession hung in the air, raw and unfiltered, seeping into every crevice of the space between you. Your chest tightened, the ache blooming anew. You wanted to hold onto his words, to let them wrap around you like the warmth of his touch, but they carried a bittersweet weight that was impossible to ignore.

You swallowed hard, your gaze drifting out the window as you struggled to steady the storm of emotions inside you. The city lights glimmered in the distance, but they felt impossibly far away—like the future you’d once dreamed of with him, now nothing more than a faint glimmer on a distant horizon.

He took a quick look at you, his eyes held so much love— like he was carrying the entire aurora borealis in his eyes, “You’re my home.”

Your breath caught in your throat, the weight of his words crashing over you like a wave. You wanted to tell him the truth, to let him know that this wasn’t his home anymore—that you weren’t his home anymore. But the words refused to come.

Instead, you let your hand slip into his, your fingers intertwining as naturally as they always had. And for the rest of the drive, you let yourself believe, just for a little while, that you could still be his home.

Day 7

“Wake up, sleepyhead,” You nudged Mingi gently, your voice soft but insistent, fingers brushing against his arm. He stirred, blinking up at you with groggy confusion. “What time is it?” 

You gave him a soft smile, “Just get up.” He groaned but sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Without protest, Mingi followed you, the two of you making your way out into the quiet stillness of the world before it woke; yet the weight of what was to come pressed heavily on your chest.

Last night had been a sleepless one. After the late-night drive, you had returned to the stillness of your shared space, the echoes of his laughter and the warmth of his presence lingering in the room like a ghost of the past. But the peace you so desperately wanted to hold onto eluded you. Instead, your mind raced, caught in a storm of emotions that refused to settle.

The entire week with him had felt like an unraveling—his presence a salve to old wounds that had never fully healed, yet at the same time, it had torn open scars you had worked so hard to seal. Being near him again, feeling his touch, hearing his laugh—it was everything you had once dreamed of. Everything you had wished to return to, even when you told yourself it wasn’t possible.

But the truth loomed over you, undeniable and inescapable. Mingi deserved to know it, deserved to have the clarity you had ignored for so long. As the hours dragged on and sleep remained a distant hope, you had spent the night removing the shards embedded deep in your heart, one by one.

The memories were sharp, cutting with each recollection: the way he looked at you with those eyes full of unspoken longing, the touch of his hand brushing yours in the car, the sound of his voice when he said you felt like home. Every moment was a reminder of what you had lost—and what you could no longer pretend to have.

Your tears had soaked into the pillow as you wrestled with the decision, the battle between selfishly holding onto these fleeting moments and doing what you knew was right. You couldn’t let him live in the illusion any longer. He deserved the truth, even if it shattered the fragile connection you’d rebuilt.

The air was crisp, carrying the biting chill of dawn that made you instinctively wrap your arms around yourself. Above, the sky remained a canvas of deep navy, stars beginning to dim as the first strokes of orange and pink teased the horizon. The world felt suspended in a quiet hush, the stillness amplified by the faint rustle of leaves in the cool breeze.

You led Mingi to a secluded hill overlooking the city, the spot you’d discovered during one of your solitary escapes. It was a place of solace for you, where the sprawling cityscape seemed small and far away, swallowed by the vastness of the sky.

Neither of you spoke as you sat side by side on the damp grass. The cold seeped through your clothes, grounding you in the reality of the moment. The faint hum of distant traffic mingled with the melody of birds waking to the light. Slowly, the darkness began to yield, giving way to the soft warmth of the approaching sunrise.

Mingi’s breath fogged in the air as he spoke, his voice quiet, almost reverent. “It’s beautiful.”

You nodded, your gaze fixed on the horizon. The first rays of sunlight painted the edges of the sky in hues of gold and pink, chasing away the night. “I thought it’d be a good way to end things.”

He turned to you, his brow furrowing in confusion. “End things?”

The words hung in the air, heavy and unspoken. Mingi’s heart thudded unevenly in his chest, a gnawing sense of unease creeping through him. Your tone wasn’t cold—it was resolute, distant in a way that felt unfamiliar and wrong. He opened his mouth to respond, to ask what you meant, but the words tangled in his throat.

His mind raced, flooded with fragments of emotions and half-formed thoughts. What’s happening? Why does it feel like something’s slipping away? He searched your face, looking for answers in the curve of your lips, the downward tilt of your gaze.

Is this why you’ve been so quiet? Why your smiles seemed forced? He thought of the past week, the stolen moments of warmth that felt almost too fragile, too fleeting. His chest tightened. Were those memories or just illusions of something we used to have?

Were those moments we shared just days ago … were my memories?

And then there were the flashes—images that didn’t make sense but stirred something deep and aching within him. Your tear-streaked face, eyes red and swollen, though he couldn’t recall ever seeing you cry. The ghost of your voice, trembling with words he couldn’t quite grasp.

Mingi wanted to ask, to demand why this felt like goodbye when he wasn’t ready for it. But fear held him back, rooting him in silence. What if asking makes it real? What if I lose you all over again?

You exhaled slowly, breaking the silence. “Mingi… you’re going back to your family tomorrow. This…” You gestured vaguely between the two of you. “This was temporary. A way for you to heal. But it’s not real. Not anymore.”

His breath hitched, and he turned his gaze back to the horizon, unable to meet your eyes. His thoughts screamed against your words, but his voice refused to cooperate. The truth loomed like a shadow he wasn’t prepared to confront, a storm he couldn’t outrun.

The sunlight began to spread, illuminating the city below in soft, golden light. Mingi clenched his fists against the damp grass, the weight of the moment pressing against his chest. He wanted to reach out, to tell you that it was real, that you were his anchor in a sea of uncertainty.

“I love you…” he said suddenly, his voice soft yet firm, like a whisper of truth he couldn’t hold back any longer. His hand finding yours, squeezing it as if telling you to stop joking yet none of your eyes says that you were.

It felt like a dam had broken within you. The walls you had so carefully built to protect yourself crumbled, and the flood of emotions hit with brutal force. Your shoulders trembled, a sharp inhale escaping you as your head shook, denying the reality of his words. You fought with everything you had to stay composed, but your heart betrayed you, a painful ache spreading through your chest.

“No…” you whispered, your voice cracking under the weight of everything you had buried deep inside. It was more than just the words, more than just the confession— it was everything you couldn’t say, everything that had been left unsaid for far too long.

Tears brimmed in your reddened eyes, threatening to spill, but you willed yourself to hold them back. Every part of you screamed to push him away, to refuse him, but a deeper part of you— the part that remembered the love you once shared, the tenderness and joy— fought against the words that had already formed in your throat.

“No, you don’t.”

The words left your lips in a breathless rush, the weight of them heavier than anything you had ever spoken. Your chest tightened with the unbearable pressure of it all, a battle raging inside you. The pain, the confusion, the loss. 

Mingi tilted his head, confusion clouding his expression as he tried to make sense of it all. “But I’m married to you.”

A bitter laugh escaped your lips, sharp and hollow. It was a sound of disbelief and pain, born from the weight of everything that had happened. Your gaze fell to your intertwined hands—a fragile semblance of connection in a world that had shattered between the two of you.

You pulled away with sudden resolve, the movement decisive. It felt like a necessary break—like something had to give for you to survive this moment.

“Was,” you corrected softly, your voice trembling but steady. “I was married to you—before we divorced.”

The words hit the air between you like an invisible force, heavy and unrelenting. His mouth opened as if to argue, to hold onto something that didn’t belong to either of you anymore, but you stopped him before the denial could take form.

The quiet strength in your voice broke through his confusion. “You left me, Mingi.”

Your tone softened, the bitterness giving way to something raw, something vulnerable. The weight of years—of heartbreak, of unanswered questions—had finally found their voice. “You said you didn’t feel the love between us anymore. That you found it with someone else. And now…”

Your voice faltered, breaking like the tender thread of a once-beautiful memory. You balled your hands into fists at your sides, trying to hold onto what little strength you had left. “You already belong to someone else. Someone who isn’t me.”

The silence stretched between you as the sun climbed higher, its golden rays casting light on his face. But the clarity in his eyes wasn’t there—only the raw confusion, the hurt that mirrored your own. He struggled to process your words, his fingers twitching as if to reach for you, but they stopped short, hanging in the air with unspoken regret.

“I don’t remember that,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, the pain in his tone cutting deeper than anything before.

You nodded slowly, your heart aching as the tears you had tried so hard to hold back slipped down your cheeks. “I know,” you whispered back, the sorrow in your voice thickening with each breath. “And that’s why I wanted to do this—because I needed to let go. I needed to find closure—for the both of us.”

Mingi stared at you, his eyes locking onto yours as if searching for the pieces of himself that had slipped away, hoping they were hidden somewhere inside your gaze. His lips parted, but no words came out at first. His chest rose and fell with uneven breaths, as if trying to reconcile the weight of his feelings with the reality of what had been lost.

“But I feel it,” he said finally, his voice breaking with desperation. “I feel like I love you— No! I love you, you’re my home. How can that not be real?”

The words—those words—shattered the last vestiges of your composure. You smiled through your tears, the smile that came from a place of bittersweetness—an expression that was both tender and laced with pain.

“Because sometimes, love isn’t enough to keep something whole,” you whispered, your voice steady despite the ache in your chest. “And sometimes, it’s about knowing when to let go.”

The finality in your voice hung in the air like a heavy fog, and the truth of it sank in, sharp and undeniable. You were letting go. You were finally releasing everything you had tried so hard to hold onto.

You looked at him one last time, your gaze lingering, as if you were trying to memorize every detail—his mole on the left side of his cheek, the sharp curve of his nose, the way his eyes crinkled into that crescent-shaped smile that always made you feel like the world had melted away. In that instant, you allowed yourself to drown in the present, to feel the weight of everything that had once been yours.

But it was fleeting. Too fleeting.

This—this moment—was all that was left of him, the man who had once been everything to you. The man you loved so fiercely, so completely, and yet, whose love had faded as quickly as it had come.

As you stood there, watching him in all his vulnerability, you finally allowed the tears you had been holding back to fall freely. There was no more hiding, no more pretending. This was the end. The closure you had been yearning for was finally here.

“I’ll miss you, Min,” you whispered, your voice cracking as the weight of your words took hold of your chest.

The name—his name—felt like a dagger, sharp and bittersweet, as it slipped from your lips. You closed your eyes for just a moment, and in that second, the rush of memories hit you like a wave. The laughter, the tenderness, the warmth that used to fill every space between you two. But as quickly as the memories came, they were replaced by the painful reality that this was no longer your life. He wasn’t yours anymore, and you weren’t his. Not in the way you once were.

“I love you, Tulip,” he whispered, his voice breaking like shattered glass, his hand reaching for yours with a desperate kind of tenderness.

But you pushed his hands away, the motion sharp, your heart aching at the rejection you had to force upon him. “Stop, Mingi,” you said, your voice trembling with raw emotion, your bottom lip wobbling as tears streamed unchecked down your cheeks. “I’m no longer your wife.”

The words fell like a gavel in a silent courtroom—final, undeniable. They echoed in the small space between you, shattering whatever fragile illusion of reconciliation had lingered in his hopeful gaze.

Mingi stood there, frozen, his hand still hovering mid-air as if waiting for a different outcome, one that would never come. His lips parted, and for a moment, it seemed he might argue, might plead, might try to close the gap between you. But then he saw the anguish in your eyes, the pain you carried, and it stopped him in his tracks.

“I don’t understand,” he murmured, his voice laced with confusion, his gaze darting between your face and the floor as though searching for answers that didn’t exist. “I feel it, Tulip. I feel this love—so real, so strong. How can you say that we’re not—”

“Mingi.” Your voice cracked as you interrupted him, your tears falling faster now. “The love is there. I know it is. But it’s not enough anymore. It died six years ago.”

His shoulders slumped as if the weight of your words had finally crushed him, the realization dawning painfully slow.

“I don’t remember the fights,” he said quietly, his tone almost childlike in its confusion. “The hurt, the divorce… I don’t remember any of it. All I know is what I feel now. And it feels real. It feels like I love you— No! I love you and I’ve always loved you.”

Your breath hitched, the raw vulnerability in his words cutting through you like a knife. You reached up, covering your mouth as a sob escaped.

“It’s not about what you remember,” you said, your voice trembling. “It’s about what we’ve both lived through. The pain, the betrayal, the breaking of something so beautiful—we can’t just erase that. We can’t rewrite the past, no matter how much we want to.”

His eyes filled with tears as he took a tentative step closer. “But Tulip…”

You shook your head, the motion small but resolute. “You might not remember the scars, but I do. They’re a part of me now. A part of us. And I— We can’t keep living in this unfair nostalgia, holding onto something that’s already gone.”

Mingi’s face crumpled, his tears finally spilling over as he stared at you, helpless. “So that’s it?” he whispered, his voice breaking. You looked at him for what felt like the last time, your gaze lingering on every detail of the man you once called your everything. His mole on his left cheek, the sharp bridge of his nose, the way his crescent-shaped eyes still managed to smile even through the tears..

Your hand reached out, trembling, to settle on his cheek. He leaned into your touch without hesitation, his eyes fluttering closed as though savoring the moment. Your breath caught in your throat, a lump of sorrow and love you couldn’t swallow.

Maybe untying the fragile, fraying knot that held together your broken strings would set you both free—free to be bound to something stronger, something whole.

“I’ll miss you, Min,” you whispered, your thumb catching some of his tears, the words so soft they almost dissolved into the air, but their weight carried the entirety of your heart. Mingi’s lips parted, his gaze snapping to yours, as though he wanted to protest, to hold you there with him forever. But no words came. He simply stood, frozen, as you turned away.

He watched you walk away, each step you took feeling like it carved pieces out of him. The silence between you was deafening, each footfall heavier than the last.

The words weren’t just a goodbye—they were a love letter to the life you had shared, the dreams you had built, the memories you would carry forever. The unfair nostalgia lingered in the air between you, thick and suffocating, a reminder of what once was and what could never be.

Again. 

[littlejuicebox]

Astarion talks in his sleep.

Pairing: Astarion x GN!Reader/Tav (Shadowheart is our lovely supporting role though.) Summary/Setting: 6 months post BG3, "good/spawn" Astarion ending, all fluff Rating/Warnings: PG / Very mild if any game spoilers but nothing related to major content or scenes Word Count: 900+ Notes: Inspired by this post here!

-----

Astarion talks in his sleep. It’s something you’ve never mentioned to him, because it’s mostly when he’s having a nightmare about Cazador or some other horrid trauma from his past. You'd quickly determined it not worth bringing up, for fear of embarrassing him. Plus, if you were being honest, part of you found it rather endearing... especially the lighter drabble that would escape his lips. Delighted giggles, little purrs... it could be overwhelmingly adorable, on occasion.

In fact, the first time you ever heard him say he loved you was in his sleep. Then you'd waited weeks… anxiously, impatiently, unbearably for the revelation to come out while he was awake, under his own terms.

But tonight, the talking and tossing isn't cute. The vampire writhing in bed disturbs you, and your eyes flutter open, catching the smallest glimpse of daylight between the thick, tightly drawn curtains and shuttered windows of your bedchamber. You'd just fallen asleep, and you'd be lying if you said you weren't the slightest bit annoyed.

You idly try to figure out the date. Adjusting your schedule to the night life was… difficult; you often lost track of dates nowadays. But somehow you manage to remember that it's been nearly six months since you all saved Baldur's Gate; six months since Astarion had been returned to a creature of the shadows. Six months you've been in the house provided by the city as you two adjust to whatever normalcy you are able to conjure up and figure out your next steps. You were a strong proponent for the Underdark; Astarion was not quite sold.

At first you think the silver-haired elf's tossing and turning is a night terror… it’s been nearly two weeks since the last one. He’s overdue. You ready yourself to pop out of bed and grab your calming herbs to steep a quick sleeping draught. But then you hear him, soft and garbled, laced with thick strings of sleep.

“Will you marry me?”

You turn to stare stupidly at the elf, eyes piercing through the blackness of your room; his face is obscured, you cannot tell if he’s awake. “…what did you say?”

Silence. A long, unbearable stretch of silence where your heart is pounding into your throat, practically rattling around your chest cavity at the sudden shock. And then he’s snoring again, and you’re left with your brow furrowed and robe half pulled onto your shoulder. Well, so much for your sleep.

You meander down the hall to the kitchen, where Shadowheart has several jars and plants strewn across the table. She’s practically taken over the kitchen since Gale left, not that you particularly mind, since she’s also taken over the cooking.

“Aren’t you supposed to be asleep right now?” She asks, spotting you out of the corner of her eye, not lifting her focus from the mortar and pestle in her hand.

“You won’t believe what Astarion just said in his sleep.” You murmur in dazed response, walking over to the cabinets and rummaging through the contents. You grab an old kettle and fill it with water, turning to look at the cleric.

“Gods, what was it? I’m quite thankful to be out of the camp... his night terrors woke all of us up at one point or another. It's no wonder you’re struggling with the schedule adjustment.”

“He said, ‘Will you marry me?’” You respond, almost giggling at how silly that sounds in retrospect, as you place the kettle on the stove.

Shadowheart pauses. One, two, three beats of silence. “Shit… well, I guess the cat is out of the bag now.” She murmurs with a shrug, before returning to grinding her herbs.

“Wh-what?!”

“Oh, come off, don’t be daft! You had to expect it would be coming sooner or later. Gods, your love is almost sickening… it was sickening, having to hear it all the time... once again, so thankful for the separation of these walls.”

You are frozen, your hand still holding onto the kettle as you appraise your friend. Shadowheart is right. You knew a proposal would come sooner or later… you just figured it would be much later. Astarion was still struggling; more often than not you woke to him in tears or in the throes of a sleeping fit. Countless calming elixirs and teas had been drawn up by you and Shadowheart in the last six months. Truly, you hadn’t thought he was thinking that deeply about it... you hadn't been, if at all. Gods, you two still didn't even know where you were headed after leaving this city-supplied house... the lease was up in a few weeks' time.

“I guess… well, I suppose I didn’t think he was ready.” You sigh, lighting the stove and sitting across the table, watching the cleric as she works.

“Oh, trust me, he’s ready. And he's certain. Perhaps not about anything else... but definitely about this. He's been writing to Gale for weeks trying to source a particular ring." Shadowheart responds, now pouring the contents of her grinder into pouches. "Just promise you'll act like it's a surprise when the time comes... he's been talking about it for a while. He's put a lot of thought into things."

"When will it be?"

Shadowheart laughs, the edges of her eyes crinkling as she flicks her gaze toward the ceiling. She’s now cinching the sachets and sorting them all into a nearby basket. "Now that I'm not telling you. I've already given away too much."

You try for a few more minutes to pry the information from your friend, but she remains tight-lipped. You even threaten her with detect thoughts, though you both know you'd never go through with it. Finally, a whistle from the kettle beckons you back to the stovetop, and the conversation is halted as you ready your tea and aim to go back to bed. You might not know when your love is going to pop the question, but you do know that when the time comes, your answer will be a resounding yes.

Click here for Part 2

[sturniqlo]

Mood Swings- C.S

summary: a collection of times when y/n can't control her emotions this time around and experiences many mood swings.

cw: crying, cursing, bit of angst not too much, fluff?

an: i hate this one actually😭

masterlist | positive masterlist

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

ten weeks pregnant

Y/n hit ten weeks today. Chris had also officially moved in. The once empty space in the closet was now filled with Chris' clothes. Y/n loved going in there now and not only seeing her clothes but also seeing Chris' clothes hanging there too. The once empty drawers were filled with more of Chris' clothes. They woke up together, ate together, lounged together, showered together, and fell asleep together. Everything was perfect.

However, at random times during the day, Y/n would get... moody. She would go from lovey dovey with Chris to getting mad at something simple he did, for example turning down the tv volume which happened last week. "Why would you do that?!" She grew angry. Chris jumped at her sudden change. "Do what? Turn the volume down?" He asked softly, not wanting to rile her up more. "Yes! It was fine at fifteen! Why put it at seventeen?" She scooted to the far end of the couch, away from him. "Sorry, I'll change it back." He goes to reach for the remote but she stops him. "No keep it there, I'm going to bed." She grabs her phone and storms off to their room.

As much and Chris wanted to follow her, he knew she needed her time to cool down. He learned that the hard way. The first time her mood swings kicked in, Y/n stormed off to their room when Chris served her water in her outdoor water bottle. "You ruined everything!" She yelled and walked to their room. Chris, confused, followed her and Y/n got more ticked off and threw a pillow at him. She gasped, "Chris, I'm so sorry. Oh my gosh. Are you hurt?" Her mood changed in a blink of an eye. "I'm fine, are you okay?" He asked. "I think my mood swings are kicking in. I'm sorry what I said back there I didn't mean it okay? If I ever say any stupid shit just know I don't mean it."

Chris heard their bedroom door open from down the hall and Y/n entered the living room. Her mascara was streaked down her face with tears. "I'm sorry, Chris. I'm sorry for yelling at you. I can't control it" She climbed on his lap. "It's okay, baby. I know you didn't mean it." He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Do you forgive me?" She whispered. "Of course, do you want to head off to bed now? It's getting late and Matt and Nick are coming to pick us up early tomorrow." She nodded. "Okay, can you serve me water with ice?" Chris nodded.

The next morning, Y/n didn't have any mood swings when they were waiting for Nick and Matt to pick them up. However, after breakfast when they headed to the boys' place she had her first one of the day. "Hey, Y/n. Did you want to stop by any store to get snacks? We don't have much at our house right now, haven't gone shopping for the week." Matt said as he stopped at a red light. Y/n listened to Matt and took his question the wrong way. "Are you calling me fat, Matt?" She gasped angrily. Matt whipped his head over to Y/n who was sitting in the backseat with Chris. "What? Of course not!" He sort of laughed, thinking she was joking.

Chris widened his eyes, realizing he forgot to mention to his brothers that Y/n was starting the mood swing stage. He did his research when he first noticed it and saw that pregnant women have mood swings within the first six to ten weeks, however Y/n's mood swings started pretty late. "You're laughing, this isn't funny. Chris, your brother just called me fat! I just finished eating and now you're implying that I still want to eat? Unbelievable! This is just unbelievable!" Nick looked back at Chris with a confused look on his face. He gave Nick a look of 'don't say anything' and he quickly understood.

"Im sure he didn't mean it like that, Y/n. It just that you might get cravings later and they don't have what you want at their house." Chris said in the softest voice possible. Y/n glared at him. "So, you agree with him? Just- nobody talk to me, please." Y/n scooted as close as she could to the door and stared out the window.

Once they pulled into the garage, she quickly got out of the car and went into their house. "Dude, what's up with her?" Matt turned the car off and look back at Chris, Nick also turned to look. "I forgot to tell you guys that she started getting mood swings. She was doing great this morning but I guess your question ticked her off. So, if she says something hurtful just know she doesn't mean it. And don't add on to anything to make her even more mad or upset."

The triplets entered the house and saw Y/n sitting on the couch with a frown on her face. "You okay?" Chris said. "No." She whispered, getting to from her spot and walking to Matt. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell at you. I know you didn't mean it that way." Y/n wrapped her arms around Matt. "It's okay, kid." Matt hugged her back. "I'm guessing Chris told you guys what been happening." She lets go of Matt.

Throughout the day, Y/n had little blow outs but she was able to control those where she caught herself or she would go to the bathroom to cool off so she wouldn't say anything she didn't mean. Unfortunately, there was one that she couldn't control. Her and Nick were in the living room watching a movie while Matt was in his room playing fortnite with Chris who was using Nicks setup.

"I could really eat some ice cream right now." Y/n said, resting her head on his shoulder. "Let me check if we have any, I know Matt had some leftover." Nick gets up and goes to the kitchen and opens the freezer. "Are you- ugh, he is not serious." Nick opens the ice cream container and its empty. "Throw it in the fucking trash if it's empty." He mumbles, closing the fridge door and tossing the empty container away.

"Would you like me to order some? Kinda want some too." He goes back to his original spot, trying to grab some of the blanket but, she yanks it away. Y/n realizes and gives him an apologetic look before putting some blanket over him. "Please? I want... cookie dough and mango ice cream." Nick quietly grimaced at the two unusual combined choices. "Okay, let me text Matt and Chris if they want anything."

It had been ten minutes since Nick placed their order and Y/n mood changed. She was thinking about her ice cream and how it didn't sound good anymore and she started to tear up, feeling bad that she made Nick order and now she doesn't want it anymore. One loud sniffle made Nick turn to look at her and he started to worry. "Hey, you okay?" She shakes her head. "Wanna tell me what's going on?" He asks. "N-no you're going to get mad at me." Y/n cries and hides her head in the blanket. "I doubt I will." He tries to take the blanket off of her head but she grips it tightly.

Y/n eventually threw the blanket off of her and got off the couch and went up to Nicks room where Chris was. "Hi, bab- what's wrong?" Chris took off his headset and abandoned his game. "I feel so bad." She cried walking to Chris and sitting on his lap. "Why, what happened?" He held her face gently in his hands. "I was craving ice cream, and- and you know how he ordered?" He nodded, "I don't want it anymore. But, I feel bad because I made him order. What if he gets mad?" Her cries eventually turned into sniffles. "He's not going to get mad, I promise you."

Chris tried his best not to let out a giggle. It amazed him how fast her mood can change. He had went down about five minutes ago and Y/n was perfectly fine laughing with Nick. "Are you sure?" She whispers. "One hundred percent." He nods.

Y/n slowly came down the stairs and saw Nick smiling at her. "You're back! Are you okay now. Wanna tell me what happened?" He patted the spot she once sat it. She nodded. "I- I don't want the ice cream anymore. I'm sorry, I know I made you order it and," Her eyes filled with tears once more. "Fuck, I don't know why I'm crying. I know I made you order but, I'm not craving it anymore. And I feel really really bad. I- I'll pay you back." She said, wiping her eyes. "Y/n, it's fine. You don't have to pay me back. You can take the ice cream home, or give it to Chris, since he didn't want anything."

"You- you're not mad?" She gasps. "No! Why would I? You're pregnant, you're likely to have many cravings and craving changes. I'd never get mad at you for that." He laughs, and she cracks a smile. "You know what I am craving now, though? And I saw some in your fridge and cabinet." She whispers. "What?" He whispers back. "Bacon and nutella."

A week and many mood swings later, the time came when Chris couldn't contain his laughter and Y/n was even more distraught. "Chris, can you come here really quickly!" Y/n yells from the kitchen. He gets up from his spot on the couch and walks to the kitchen where Y/n is mixing her alfredo pasta. "Can you try it, see if it needs anything else." She grabs a plastic fork and stabs it through a noodle. "Smells good." He says before eating the pasta noodle.

"Mmm, it's good. Perfect actually." Y/n raises an eyebrow at his serious expression. "You hate it." She turns off the stove since it's ready. "What? No I don't." Chris says quickly. "Yes you do, you were serious, so you hate it." Y/n gets mad. "Baby, I promise you I don't hate it. You know I love your cooking." He laughs. "Why are you laughing." She whines, her eyes are now teary. "Hey, hey, don't cry. I'm sorry for laughing. But, I promise you I loved it, okay?" He wraps his arms around her from behind and places a kiss on her neck.

"Are you sure?" She says. "So sure." He places one last kiss on her neck. "Hey, do you think our baby will have mood swings?" Y/n asks.

"I hope not. I'm sorry to say but, It's giving me whiplash."

[lockes-woods]

Trick and Treat

MDNI!!!

This was originally a kinktober request, but since I got sick for the second half of October I still want to fulfill the last three (now two) requests.

Request: How about orgasm denial and overstimulation Shanks x afab reader x Beckmann for Kinktober? 🤔

Requested by: @nocturnalrorobin

WARNINGS: Oral Sex (m/f receiving), Orgasm Denial, 69 (sex position), Cock Warming, Large Cock, Fingering, Anal Probing, Hand Jobs, Light Bondage.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A whine keened in your throat, eyes watering, as you tried to keep your breathing steady. Well as steady as anyone could with one of your partner’s cock resting deep down your throat. It was at times like these you were reminded just how proportional your over six-and-a-half-foot partners were. You bit back a moan as the vibrator pressed firmly against your clit buzzed to life. Tears of frustration took form as you were pulled closer and closer to your release, unable to seek any relief yourself. Beck had secured your arms behind you making any attempt at cumming impossible. Your tears streaked down your face as the sides of your mouth stung in a way only Beck’s cock could stretch them. Not to say that Shanks was lacking in that department, but Beck was thick.

You held your position, warming his cock, as you ascended higher and higher. You could feel your climax thrum through you, seconds away, when the buzzing abruptly stopped. He groaned at the sensation of your broken moan stimulating his cock. Your tears are now freely falling. You sniffled as he cradled your jaw in his hand. You lean into his warm touch as he thumbed away your tears.

“Fuck, doesn’t she look so pretty when she cries?” Beck asked, lightly tilting your head so that Shanks could get a better view. Shanks could only groan in response, Beck’s right hand firmly wrapped around the base of his cock as he stifled another one of Shanks’s orgasms. Shanks panted in response; a heavy blush flooded his cheeks matching the irritated head of his cock. If he looked that fucked out, you could only imagine how wrecked you must look.

Shanks was bound to the chair from your vanity, stark naked with his arms also restrained behind his back. You inadvertently clenched at the sight of him. You weren’t sure how long you’d been at it, but enough time had passed that his cock was fully coated in precum. You couldn’t tell which one of you was more fucked in by your punishment.

This was far from the first-time Beck had made you warm his cock with your mouth. In his opinion, it was the perfect punishment for your smart mouth. Which to be fair was partially why you and Shanks were being punished, or at least why the punishment was so severe. Beck had made you both promise to hold off having sex until after he was done supervising the restoking of the Red Force. It shouldn’t have been an issue; you were still wiped out from the night before’s activities to wake up before he left. All you had to do was abstain until noon at the latest for him to be finished. Unfortunately, you didn’t account for how whiny Shanks would be when he woke up with a hangover.

At this point, it shouldn’t surprise you that he would use that angle, or any angle if you’re being honest, to have sex. He saw the opportunity and immediately jumped on it. You were always at your most pliable right after waking up. You were already cuddled up in his chest, head resting in the crook of his neck when he began to complain of a headache. He promised that it would be, “just the tip,” and that, “Nothing cured his headaches like an orgasm did,”. A more awake you would have turned him down in a heartbeat considering the last time you had disobeyed Beck you weren’t allowed to cum for an entire week, which with your high libido partners felt like an eternity. But with the combination of his soft words and gentle touches, you found yourself ass up, chest down as he took you from behind. He had already fucked you to the point of overstimulation as he continued to chase his own high after you had already reached your peak. If it wasn’t your moans that could easily be heard from the corridor, or the lewd sounds of Shanks’ pelvis meeting your ass, the slamming of the bed against the wall was a dead giveaway. Shanks came deep inside you as Beck slammed your shared bedroom door wide open. You probably would have been left off easy if it weren’t for your overly bratty tone when asking Beck, “The fuck you gonna do about it,” in response to him asking if you had anything to say for yourselves. Your mouth immediately shut as he stood over you both, arms crossed, with a deep-set frown. In that moment there was no question that you were fucked.

You lost count of how many orgasms had passed at this point. You had just come to terms with the fact that you wouldn’t find relief tonight when Beckman threaded his fingers through your hair and forced you to look up.

“Still doing okay angel?” he asked, checking in on you. He reached around your back and inserted a finger into your grasp as he stared down at you lovingly. You squeezed his finger once without hesitation, signaling yes.

 “Good,” he hummed, “Make me cum.”

You immediately perked up. Beck smiles down at you, looking at you with eyes full of admiration. Without missing a beat you pulled back from his pubic bone, your tongue tracing the underside of his cock as you pulled back so only the head of his cock was still resting in your mouth. Beck groaned as you maintained eye contact as you sucked on the tip of his cock, tongue tracing his urethra, before sliding down and continuing to tease the veins on the underside of his cock. He let this go on for a minute or so before tightening his grip on your hair, halting your movement.

“Baby, stop teasing and make me cum, or I’ll show you what teasing gets you.” He grunted. While his threat was vague you decided to air on the safer side as you began to bob your head, taking as much in him as possible.

“Fuck,” Beck moaned tilting his head back. You set a brutal pace before Beck took over. His grip on your hair tightened as he began to trust into your mouth. Your eyes watered as you now focus solely on your breathing. You momentarily broke eye contact to take in your other love. He was desperately whining, as Beck pumped his cock in succession with his thrusts into your mouth. Your only warning before Beck came was the slight twitch of his cock on your tongue. He was too focused on stealing another orgasm from Shanks to give a proper warning. You took in a deep breath as his seed flooded your system. Your eyes watered, lips stinging, as he held you firmly down on his cock. He slowly released his hold on you and Shanks as he fell back on his forearms.

You gasped for air as you pulled off of his now flaccid penis. You panted, resting your head on his thigh as you tried to catch your breath. Beck took a beat to recover before he began to untie Shanks’s hands. He immediately intercepted Shanks’s left hand as he went to relieve his aching pain of overstimulation without release. Beck clicked his tongue at him.

“Since you were so desperate for each other. I'll allow you to get each other off,” Beck started, Shanks immediately began to impatiently make his way over to you before Beck grabbed his upper arm and continued, “The only caveat being that whoever cums first won’t be able to cum for the rest of the day.”

“I never said we were done,” Beck said, pulling a desperate whine from Shanks’s throat. Beck ignored his whining as he slid down to the floor and began to undo the knots of your restraints. He gave your forearms a once over until he was satisfied, placing your needy form on the bed.

“Baby, go lay down on your back,” Beck ordered you.

You quickly followed his direction as you lay down in the center of the bed. You waited as patiently as you could, the only thing giving away your need was the shameless rubbing of your thighs together. Soon Shanks was ordered to crawl over you in a 69 position. Shanks nudged your thighs apart, before immediately going for your clit. You couldn’t help but moan as his fingers quickly joined in, stroking up and down your slit before breaching your pussy.

Beck as always took gentle care of you. He cleaned you up with a warm washcloth, while simultaneously checking that you were not only physically okay, but mentally as well. In what felt like a matter of seconds you found yourself back under the covers with your partners. Both you and Beck cuddled around Shanks reaping the benefits of his natural warmth. 

You got him back immediately as you deep-throated his cock. You could feel him gasp against your clit. Not missing a beat, you traced your fingertips down his length teasingly before you began to gently massage his balls in tandem with the bobbing of your head. He sucked harshly on your clit in retaliation, thrusting a second finger into your heat. You panted against his cock as you tried your hardest to not orgasm. You quickly sucked two of your fingers into your mouth as you continued to jerk him off. Once you were satisfied you traced your fingers down his cock, past his balls, and began to lightly trace over his asshole. Shanks's reaction was instantaneous as he began to grind back against your fingers. While you knew it was a dirty move, there was no way you’d be able to hold off much longer. Your efforts were almost immediately rewarded by the telltale twitch of Shank’s cock against your tongue. While this time you had more of a warning, you were still overwhelmed by Shanks’s cum. You were only able to swallow half of it, the rest splattered on your lower face and neck. At this point, you were well past the point of caring. You collapsed onto the bed. You were about to move to clean up when Shanks suddenly buried his face back into your cunt, doubling his efforts. You couldn’t help but lie there and moan as Shanks traced made-up designs on your clit while fingering you with a third finger. Before you knew it you were cumming hard on his face; your thighs squeezing his head in place. The edging causes an almost painful stimulation. After riding out your orgasm, you and Shanks collapsed becoming a mess of limbs as you both lay down motionless on your bed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: I hope you enjoyed the this one-shot. I'm hoping to finish the other two kinktober one shots in the up coming weeks. I only have four request currently so I'm hopeful I'll be able to get them out before February.