#i love this you make everything beautiful and easy to read and get lost in

[helioooss]

true love waits

synopsis: after a car crash leaves sophia with no memory of the past three years, y/n wakes to a wife who no longer remembers their life together. now, y/n must decide if she can live through falling in love with sophia again — this time, without knowing if she ever will.

warnings: major car accident scene, helios angst, swearing, violent scenes, read at your own risk ⚠️

w/c: 30k+

a/n: this FUCK ASS APP just lost my entire final edit for the second part when i tried to save it, so i need to know whether you folks like this or not to get motivation to re-finalise the whole thing. i actually hate it here

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

if there was one thing you were certain of, it’d be this: your love was built out of ordinary sacrifices: quiet ones folded into the hours of waiting, the nights spent listening, and maybe, on a night like this, it looked like a beat-up car and a woman you’d follow anywhere.

it started out a cold winter night, the kind that made you pull your sleeves over your hands and breathe out just to watch the cloud of it disappear. the sky had already turned dark, and the city lights were just beginning to glow - scattered like someone had poked holes into the evening.

you spotted them standing huddled outside bestia before they saw you; five figures bundled up in heavy coats, their laughter misting into the air. and they looked like something out of a movie, framed under the warm golden light spilling from the restaurant’s windows.

your headlights swept across their faces, casting familiar shadows as you rolled up slowly in your battered camry, affectionately christened ‘jennilyn’ by sophia in the early days of your marriage; when everything between you was still new and exciting. the name had stuck, just like everything else that made no practical sense but felt like home.

the girls hollered immediately as soon as they spotted you, waving wildly — megan dramatically pretending to hitchhike while lara and daniela giggled at her antics. even from behind the windshield, you could see the way sophia’s eyes crinkled with affection watching them; it warmed something quiet in you.

"there she is!" yoonchae called out with a grin, stepping forward like she might open the door herself. "y/n finally decided to show up…five minutes early.”

“hey, i’m not rushing nobody,” you chuckled, shaking your head. “take your sweet time, i’ve got the patience of a saint for my wife.”

“six wives, actually,” manon corrected you, leaning toward the open window. "you skipped out on us. again."

“woah manz, my bad,” you gave a small shrug, keeping your smile easy. "and i’m under too much work. you know how it is."

it was easier to lie than explain that you had been running numbers in your head all afternoon, trying to figure out how to stretch your next paycheck across three weeks. between bills and materials for your next sculpture series, a dinner out just didn’t make the cut.

thankfully, none of them pushed you on it; they never did and you appreciated that more than you could say.

“alright, we’ll see you lovebirds on the weekend, right?” lara asked, your thoughts immediately trying to scramble what event was happening. then, with a sigh, like she knew what was going on: “y/n, it’s saturday wine night.”

“right, right…yes, we will be there. let’s go, my beautiful first wife,” you chuckled, stretching across the passenger seat to unlock the door for sophia.

“remember this weekend,” daniela eyed you firmly, opening the door wider for the filipina. “i’ll bring all the wine so don’t worry about getting one.”

you nodded, a sheepish smile plastered on your face. “yes ma’am, copy that.”

“see you lovelies, i love you all — please drive safe because the roads are slippery,” sophia blew them a kiss before hurrying in, her cheeks flushed pink from the cold, rubbing her hands together vigorously as she sank into the worn seat. “baby, please tell me the heater’s working."

“uhhh, about that,” you mumbled in embarrassment, turning the fob again just to double-check, though you already knew. “it actually stopped working about halfway here. the fan’s giving up on us.”

she groaned theatrically, slumping further into the seat with exaggerated despair. "she is literally dying. we are one frostbite away from needing a new car. babe, i love jennilyn, but she’s on life support.”

“she just needs a little encouragement,” you said, patting the dashboard like it might actually help. “and maybe divine intervention.”

she laughed softly. "you sound exactly like me when i was trying to get through finals week in undergrad.”

you smiled at her, grateful for the warmth of her laughter in the cold cabin as you shifted the car into gear, the engine groaning a little as you started driving. the sound had become something familiar over the years; almost somewhat comforting.

"we’ll think about a new car after the exhibit," you continued; the wind had picked up outside and whistled faintly through the gaps in the door seals. "if even one of my sculptures sells, maybe we’ll finally send jennilyn to a well-earned retirement."

"not if," she glanced at you, her profile outlined by the dim streetlights. “it’ll sell. it’s you. people just don’t know how good you are yet.”

her words meant more than she probably realised. she had always believed in you. sometimes, it felt like she was the only one who did.

you returned her smile, though a part of you ached silently — the persistent voice at the back of your mind whispering about all the things you couldn’t give her.

two years ago, sophia had traded a life of luxury and expectation for this: a worn-out camry, sporadic sales and late-night budget debates on your small kitchen table where the legs were slightly uneven. sometimes, when she was asleep on the couch beside you, a hand still curled around her phone, you wondered if she missed her old life, the one that ran like clockwork and you had inadvertently pulled her away from.

she chose clay-stained aprons and uneven floorboards instead — you still weren’t sure what you had done in this life to deserve it.

you cleared your throat, nudging the melancholy away. “so, how was dinner?”

she immediately perked up, twisting toward you with a familiar brightness in her eyes. “megan and lara are literally unhinged,” she began, shaking her head fondly. “lara kept making the waiter rate all our outfits out of ten. i won, of course, and manon tried to reason with her but that only made it worse. yoonchae started recording halfway through — she says she’s going to make it a tiktok series. daniela got there late but she promised to pay for dessert, so no one yelled. it was chaotic; you should’ve come.”

you chuckled, eyes focused ahead on the quiet stretch of road illuminated only by weak lampposts and the distant glow of city lights. “nah, you deserve some time alone with your friends. gotta give you space to complain about me sometimes, right?”

she laughed, smacking your arm playfully, the warmth of her palm lingering even after she pulled away. “baby! shut up, as if i’d have anything bad to say about you.”

you glanced sideways, catching the gentle sincerity in her eyes; your heart began to tighten in affection and the corners of your mouth turned upwards. “you never know.”

“i always know,” she tilted her head slightly as you waited at a red light. "so what did you do while i was gone?"

"honestly?" you asked, eyes still on the road. "bed rotted, missed you the whole time."

she smiled, her hand reaching over to rest lightly on your knee. "aww baby, i missed you too — oh, and they roasted your mug collection. again."

"it’s not a collection," you groaned, putting a hand up. "it’s a lifestyle."

"it’s weird," she laughed. "specially that mushroom one…the vibes are cursed."

"you bought it!”

“which was a mistake,” she was smiling out the window now. you could see her reflection faintly in the glass, and for a second, you thought of how beautiful she looked like this: unguarded, mid-laugh and fully herself as you watched the way the passing lights painted gold across her cheekbones, the way she relaxed into the seat like she belonged there — like this was still her favourite part of the night.

it was quiet for a while after that, but you remembered other times like this: when she would ride beside you after her shifts at the recording studio, her feet on the dashboard, eyes closed, humming to whatever played softly through the broken speakers.

these moments lived with you, exactly like old furniture - scratched up in the corners, but steady.

she straightened up, her voice speaking so low that you could almost hear the hesitancy in it. “so…my dad messaged me tonight.”

the words sat between you, weightless and unbearable. you nodded once, careful not to speak too quickly. the silence stretched and you knew she was watching you from the passenger seat, trying to read your face.

you didn’t give her much.

of all the ghosts sophia had, her father was the one you feared the most. a presence you learned to treat like broken glass; something sharp and far too close.

it still surprised you, sometimes, how soft she could sound when she talked about him.

even after —

you stopped the thought before it finished, hands gripping the wheel a little tighter. “yeah?”

"he wants to talk."

your hands stayed steady on the wheel. “are you ready for that?”

she shrugged, her fingers tugging at the sleeve of her coat. "i don’t know…i thought i’d feel less hurt by now, but it still makes me mad. it still feels new and i don’t think i could ever forgive him for that.”

in your chest, something twisted. not with anger — no, it hadn’t been anger for a long time. it was the same, deep ache that came whenever you remembered how much someone could hate you without knowing you at all.

how much they could take from you…just because they could.

you nodded slowly. “maybe they’re just checking if you regret marrying me.”

her head snapped towards you. “hey, don’t do that.”

you shrugged. “just saying.”

she touched your forearm lightly, a thumb dragging over the sleeve of your hoodie. “babe, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. you know that, right?”

you glanced at her briefly, her eyes were serious; they always got like that when she was drinking, just a little more honest than she meant to be.

“i know,” you sighed. and you did most days. “but you also loved them once, they’re your family. and i hate that i’ve driven you away from them.”

“and you’re my wife. whatever happened was unfair.”

"it was unfair," you said gently, closing your eyes at the sudden flashback. "but you don’t have to decide anything tonight. or tomorrow. just know that i’ll always be here for whatever choice you make.”

her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her coat, you knew her well enough to recognise that as nerves. she looked like she was about to say something else — like she might even cry a little, simply just from the ache of wanting two things at once — but the world shattered before the words could come out: headlights blazed across your windshield, bright and too sudden.

a car swerved into your lane out of nowhere, tyres shrieking against the slick road. without thinking, you yanked the steering wheel to the side but it was too late.

metal clanked against it each other as the other car made contact with your hood; it screamed as you lost traction and gravel tore beneath you. your hand reached for hers instinctively.

“wait —” her voice cracked in confusion, body tensing.

the collision stole the rest.

it folded with a horrifying crunch as glass sprayed across your vision. the impact immediately knocked the air from your lungs, made worse by your shoulder slamming into the door, pain blooming immediately.

there was a moment of pure chaos — motion and noise and sudden searing light.

then, stillness.

your vision flickered; tasting blood in your mouth. you weren’t sure if your body had stopped moving or if your brain had just disconnected from it.

a horn droned nearby, endless and disoriented. you were floating, somehow, consciousness slipping in and out - it wasn’t long before sirens began to wail in the distance.

someone was yelling but their voice didn’t sound real. you tried to move your hand across the console, searching for sophia’s but your fingers wouldn’t cooperate.

a figure moved across your vision. paramedic, maybe. you couldn’t feel your legs and couldn’t see clearly.

something warm and sticky was trailing down the side of your face and everything and nothing hurt at the same time.

but your thoughts — what little remained of it, at least, landed on one thing.

if you had known this would be the last time, you would’ve done everything differently:

you would’ve pulled over and waited, let her talk and say her goodbyes to her sisters a little longer and kissed her like it was the first time when she got in the car, you would’ve told her how she saved you just by showing up.

because you didn’t know it yet, but when sophia would open her eyes again, she wouldn’t know your name; wouldn’t remember your kitchen, the first night you stayed up until sunrise just talking in bed. she would forget the way you hold her hair back when she’s sick, the clay mug you made her that still sits cracked but proud in the hallway.

she would look at you like a stranger. and you, for all your quiet sacrifices, would have to start over again.

or perhaps, never.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

there was something unsettling about waking up slowly. it felt like coming up for air underwater, your consciousness swimming through heavy fog and pressing through layers of darkness until you broke the surface. you drew in a breath, sharp and sudden — your body immediately exploding with pain, radiating in pulsing waves that locked you in place.

your eyelids felt impossibly heavy, pulled down by medication and exhaustion. when you got to open your eyes, the room came into shaky and unfocused view: muted white walls and the hiss and beep of machines.

you tried to speak but no sound came out: only a dry, guttural rasp that scraped up your throat like sandpaper.

something was very wrong; you couldn’t speak and you couldn’t move your fucking legs nor your arms.

your mouth opened again; another gasp.

your chest began heaving, muscles protesting and heart pounding out a rhythm of helplessness. movement stirred nearby, fabric rustling and footsteps approaching.

blinking sluggishly, your forced your head to turn slightly toward the sound.

a familiar figure unfolded from a small, uncomfortable-looking blue couch in the corner, stretching stiffly. it was lara, rubbing sleep from her eyes, her sweatshirt wrinkled and messy from being used as a makeshift pillow.

beside her, manon sat up quickly, her phone falling to the floor as she reached your side in seconds. her eyes widened when she saw you blinking, chest hitching with pain and panic.

lara had stood the second you started gasping. “i’ll get the nurse —” she rushed out of the room.

manon cupped your face in both hands, gently holding your gaze. her voice stayed low, grounding. “you were intubated,” she explained softly, her voice shaking as tears pooled in her eyes. “you’ve been asleep for a week, they just took the tube out yesterday so your throat’s going to hurt. i know, i know, it’s scary — but you’re breathing on your own now. you’re okay.”

your eyes flooded with tears helplessly, vision blurring because it felt like you were living in a body that didn’t belong to you.

everything ached. and you were stuck in the fire: too awake for comfort but too weak to fight.

their footsteps rushed quickly and before you knew it, a nurse and a doctor followed lara back in.

the nurse checked your vitals while the doctor moved to your side. you listened as best you could while they spoke gently, more to lara and manon than to you.

turned out, you had been asleep for almost a week and intubated due to low oxygen levels. your throat was still recovering from it — hence the pain and inability to speak. there were fractures in your right tibia and left shoulder: crutches and a sling were your best options.

on top of that, you sustained bruised ribs and a concussion. the bright side was there was no internal bleeding, no spinal damage. your prognosis was somehow good; a full recovery was expected in no time.

when they left, the room felt softer again as if the world had narrowed back down to something you could manage.

lara stepped to your side, brushing a strand of hair from your face like it was instinct. her eyes were red, but she was trying to smile.

“sophia’s okay,” she mumbled, voice thick. “she’s stable now. it took a while, but…she made it. you both did. in fact, on the same day.”

she sat on the edge of the bed carefully, mindful of the tubes and the cast.

manon took your hand in hers, rubbing her thumb across your knuckles slowly. “she’s still out, they’ve kept her in a coma to let her brain heal properly. her injuries were bad too, but she’s strong.”

you blinked, trying to take it all in. the beeping of the machines; the ache in your bones; the sting behind your eyes.

sophia was badly hurt.

manon looked down for a moment. “the responders said…when they found you two, she had an unbuckled seatbelt. she must’ve done it that second, turned her body towards you. they think she was trying to shield you.”

your mouth opened slightly, but still, no sound.

lara wiped your tears gently with her sleeve. “rest, okay? you’re safe now.”

and you did…eventually. though your mind kept screaming for her name, your eyes fluttered closed, exhaustion tugging you under again.

rehab was slow, a bit humiliating, sometimes. your body still didn’t feel like yours — not yet. you were learning how to sit up without nausea and how to transfer from bed to chair with grace you didn’t have. your leg, still in a brace, felt like dead weight.

everything took longer than it should’ve - just getting dressed felt like a full shift at work.

the worst?

time moved like wet cement, your mornings bled into late afternoons and you started marking the hours by which friend would show up next.

they made it bearable.

each day, one of them showed up with something new: takeaway that didn’t taste like cardboard, a new playlist, a trashy magazine, a clip-on fan for your temporary wheelchair and boardgames.

manon downloaded puzzles onto your tablet and kept score on a folded piece of paper taped to your tray table; yoonchae insisted on giving you scalp massages while you watched reruns of grey’s anatomy; daniela brought weird snacks she smuggled in her coat — pepero, haw flakes, little slices of dried mango, she said she was building you a snack altar.

lara brought gossip. recent and messy ones: who was sleeping with who, who was soft-launching a breakup, who got banned from a certain club for throwing up on the bar. she was your link to the real world, your anchor to a version of life that didn’t smell like antiseptic and overcooked carrots.

and it was megan who made you move. she wheeled you out every afternoon whether you wanted to or not, said you ‘needed vitamin d’, you said she ‘was annoying’. she said she was ‘unemployed and had nothing better to do.’

sometimes, you both had a point so you would remain quiet.

you would circle the hallway, sometimes the garden. most often just the long corridor between wards.

she would ramble about her gym crush or her beef with the hospital café. it was concerning how she challenged old people in wheelchairs to races too because they won more than you did.

but every single day, without fail, megan stopped you by sophia’s room. didn’t have to ask, she just pushed the brakes on your chair, waited outside and let the silence settle in.

her room was quieter than yours; peaceful. her skin was paler, face softer in the absence of expression too. her dark hair was always braided or clipped back neatly and her lips slightly parted like she might be dreaming of saying something.

there were always flowers on the window ledge — some from other artists, a few from her friends at the studio and the rest from you.

most of the time, you brought her oranges even though she couldn’t eat it, just to fill the silence. your voice had come back slowly, albeit hoarse and unreliable, it was a reminder of the tube that had kept you alive.

it was often: “i love you, sophia, that’s all.”

and then nothing.

megan would place a hand on your shoulder. or squeeze your wrist. and that was enough to let you know it was time to go.

eventually, you began to move more throughout the days. you could sit up without support, eat on your own because the sling got taken out.

the nurses said you were progressing well; your leg would need a few more weeks, maybe months, but you would get full function back. after the crutches, you would need a cane to support you.

they told you this like it was a gift, as if it would mean something if you weren’t walking beside her.

still, you kept going.

when you stood for the first time, lara cried.

when you took your first few assisted steps, daniela bought cake and said she deserved partial credit for all the snack altar.

but you only felt like yourself when the door to sophia’s room clicked open. and you could see her there. still asleep, still fighting.

and you? well, you waited like you promised her you would.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

it wasn’t planned.

you hadn’t thought it through, really, the ring had been sitting in the drawer beside your bed for weeks now — recovered from the wreck alongside a crumpled photo, her bent sunglasses and the burned edges of a receipt for dumplings from the week before.

the nurse had handed it to you in a small plastic pouch with an empathetic smile, you didn’t ask.

but that day, something felt different.

megan had just wheeled you back from physio and when you passed sophia’s room, you stopped her with a touch to the arm.

“can i stay?” you asked.

she glanced at you, then at the door. “i’ll get coffee. need anything?”

you shook your head.

“i’ll be back in ten,” she pushed the door open and guided your chair in slowly, parking you at the same spot beside the bed. “you want me to close it?”

you nodded.

the room buzzed gently, a mix of machines and air vents — you were used to it by now. what you weren’t used to was how much smaller sophia looked, even though she hadn’t changed. she was beautiful still, heartbreakingly so.

one of the nurses had tied a ribbon in her braid that morning and it matched the trim on her hospital blanket. and someone had painted her nails pink — probably yoonchae.

your hands trembled slightly as you reached into your hoodie pocket. the rings sat inside a tissue - yours and hers, you had kept them wrapped like that since.

her wedding ring was thinner than yours, still had a faint dent from where she knocked it on the kitchen counter one morning, looking for a specific pair of earrings.

you held it between your fingers for a while before sliding it gently back onto her finger. it looked right. you let out a slow breath, shaky and quiet as you leaned your elbows on the edge of the bed.

“so,” you murmured, smiling. “you got your wish.”

you spoke more now, your voice had grown steadier. the rasp was still there but it no longer hurt.

“jennilyn’s gone…like total fucking write-off. they said the engine basically folded in half,” you laughed under your breath. “so you won, baby. you always do, don’t you?”

she didn’t move but you kept talking anyway.

you told her how you hated the food here, except what the girls snuck in; how megan took corners too fast in your wheelchair and threatened to start racing old people; how manon had ordered you a cane online and wrapped it in glitter tape as a joke. you promised to burn it but you’ve actually been using it a lot.

you tried to laugh again but your voice cracked at the end; reaching for her cold hand, you lifted it gently and pressed it against your forehead.

“we’ll get a new one. something safe and boring. one of those mum vans, maybe. specifically with better airbags and bluetooth and —”

you stopped, leaned in closer, your hand sliding over hers as your chest ached with the weight of everything unsaid.

“i’m sorry,” you whispered. “i’m so fucking sorry,” you bowed your head, pressing your lips to her knuckles. “i didn’t keep you safe. i should’ve — i should’ve seen the car. i should’ve braked faster. i should’ve done something. you were just…just talking about your dad and i was listening, i swear, i just… i thought we had time. i didn’t think —”

you pressed her hand against your cheek; you would do anything to feel her warmth again. anything.

the tears were quiet but they came, one after another, falling into the blanket pooled between you. you kissed her hand, gently, where the ring sat.

“please, i don’t know how to do this without you,” you mumbled in between sobs. “come back to me, baby.”

you didn’t believe in god, not really…you hadn’t for a long time. but that night, when you were wheeled back to your room and the ache in your chest wouldn’t stop, you folded your hands in the dark.

and you prayed for her.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the nurse, a tiny filipino lady named maria, came in just after dawn, you were propped up on too many pillows, leg stiff under the blanket - trying to stretch the ache out of your lower back.

the light from the window was still grey, flat against the tiled floor. she moved around the room like she always did: soft-footed and humming under her breath, probably another aiza seguerra song like she always told you about.

nurse maria was the kind woman from davao, always calling you ‘anak’ and sneaking you extra juice boxes after meds — always gentle, humming old opm songs under her breath. you liked her because she never asked too many questions but told plenty of stories.

“good, very good,” she mumbled.

she checked your vitals with the same rhythm she always had, fingers cool against your skin. you didn’t bother speaking. mornings had been slow for you lately; slow to move and slower to care.

then she looked up from her clipboard, her voice light. “today is a good day for you,” she began with a smile. “your beautiful wife woke up last night.”

your head snapped toward her so quickly it jolted pain up your spine. “what?”

for a second, you didn’t register the words. they hung in the space between you and it felt like the air in the room changed. you were suddenly too aware of everything: the hum of the vents, the heaviness in your arms, the climbing rhythm of your heartbeat. your mouth opened, but nothing came out.

she didn’t flinch, just smiled again — proud like she was delivering something rare. “it happened a little after midnight. she’s stable, still sleepy but she opened her eyes. she’s with neuro now. really not talking yet. super sedated, you understand? you were the same, nak.”

your mouth was dry, you felt your hands tighten on the blanket without meaning to. “she — she’s really awake?”

“she’s being monitored for the rest of the morning,” the nurse added, glancing at your chart. “but if you’d like, i can take you to her after lunch, just for a few minutes.”

your voice came out raspy. “i want to go now.”

she gave you a soft look and a head tilt that reminded you exactly where she was coming from. “i know you do but there’s a lot of checking they still need to do. swelling and responses. it’s better to let her rest through it. when she’s out of observation, you’ll get ten minutes. just you in the room, spouses only for now.”

you were already trying to sit upright. the cane beside the bed caught your eye but it felt too far away. the wheelchair in the corner was closer, more familiar. you hadn’t used it in three days, hadn’t really wanted to, but you were suddenly willing to be carried if that’s what it took to see her.

“nak, don’t try to walk, you are still learning to stand without shaking like a leaf during a typhoon,” nurse maria said in a worried tone, already moving to help you sit up properly. “if you want, someone else can wheel you to the room, pray not megan, and i’ll walk with you. the cane’s still too risky for that distance.”

you nodded, not trusting your voice.

on cue, the door opened a second later with the rush of outside noise. daniela’s voice came in before her body did, loud and exaggerated. she had a paper bag in one hand and her phone tucked under her chin, talking to someone about how hard it was to find decent coffee in this part of the city. yoonchae followed close behind her, balancing two paper cups in a drink tray and something wrapped in foil.

they stopped immediately when they saw you sitting up.

you didn’t have to say anything. you must’ve looked different — your eyes, perhaps something in your posture.

daniela stared for half a second, then turned to nurse maria. “what happened?”

she didn’t pause, just eyeing the two girls up and down in the most painfully obvious way. “her wife’s awake.”

the sound the latina made was a short gasp, like the air leaving a balloon too quickly. the paper bag dropped onto the tray beside your bed as she moved forward, hands hovering around your shoulders like she didn’t know whether to hold you or hold herself together. behind her, yoonchae put the drinks down carefully and reached for your wrist. her fingers were cold.

you didn’t cry, not yet, but the weight in your chest shifted in a way that felt dangerous.

nurse maria gave you all a moment before speaking again. “please call the others. she’ll want them to know. and get her out of this depressing gown, okay?”

“with pleasure,” daniela grinned, already halfway into your duffle bag.

within a few hours, lara, megan and manon arrived with more clothes and a hundred questions you didn’t know the answer to. there were too many bodies in the room and not enough air, but for once, it didn’t feel suffocating. lara was sniffling even as she helped you change into a soft jumper and sweatpants, brushing your hair with fingers that were too careful. megan tied your laces like you couldn’t be trusted not to trip. manon held your cane while yoonchae fixed the sleeves of your top.

“no hospital grey,” daniela muttered to herself. “not today.”

it took a while to get you up — you had one good leg, one bad leg and two arms that were still weak from weeks of disuse. but you stood. and when they wheeled you out, you didn’t look back.

the observation ward was quiet. colder than the rest of the hospital, stripped bare of flowers, noise or anything human. the fluorescent lights overhead buzzed faintly, casting everything in that pale blue.

room 217 was at the end of the hall. nurse maria walked ahead of you like she promised, nodded to someone at the station, then pushed the door open and held it for manon, who guided you carefully inside.

the room was silent except for the monitors. sophia lay still, propped slightly upright. the blanket was tucked high around her waist, arms limp at her sides. someone had washed her face and her lips were dry but pink, she had more colour to her face now.

the line of her throat, the way her lashes sat against her cheek — it all looked like her and at the same time, it also didn’t.

you felt your hands go still in your lap.

“ten minutes,” nurse maria whispered behind you. “don’t expect too much yet.”

the chair slowed to a stop beside the bed and manon quietly stepped out. the only thing you could do was stare as sophia opened her eyes slowly.

they fluttered open in intervals as if her body wasn’t sure whether it was ready to be in the world. her gaze was unfocused at first, swimming in slow motion between the ceiling and the wall, drifting down to the blanket, the iv line.

her lips parted slightly and her chest moved like she took a deep breath…until her eyes finally settled on you.

you leaned forward by a fraction.

nothing changed.

no lift in her brow or a catch in her breath or flicker of softness. just dead silence.

she looked at you the way people glance at nurses passing in the hallway or at strangers who hold a door open. her gaze landed and stayed, but there was nothing behind it.

you had been preparing for the worst but you hadn’t known how sharp the absence would be when it was right in front of you. she looked at you like she didn’t know your face at all…as if you hadn’t shared three years of your life together, had never touched your skin, or cried in your arms, or chosen you again and again.

your hand slid slightly toward hers on the bed, just resting nearby. her gaze drifted, blinking slowly, and turned faintly toward the window.

manon stepped back in without speaking and you knew time was up.

“see you, sophia,” you whispered. her name felt weird rolling off your lips, hadn’t call her that in years. it had always been ‘babe’, ‘baby’ and whenever you fucked up: ‘the most beautifulest love of my life’.

outside the room, the hallway felt too wide.

you sat unmoving on the chair while manon stood beside you, her hand resting on your shoulder. it was daniela who arrived next. she looked at your face and didn’t ask what happened, just knelt beside you and waited.

doctor kim came soon after, holding a clipboard, her expression stern but not unkind.

it was a bit too early to confirm how sophia was doing in terms of physical recovery, but she seemed to be on the good side.

however, mentally-speaking, they were noticing some gaps.

she spoke softly, carefully used the term retrograde amnesia: forgetting events before the injury, explaining that with moderate traumatic brain injury — specially ones that involved swelling, memory loss wasn’t uncommon.

it varied in scope; there were patients who only forgot hours and months, while there were others that lost years. it depended on severity and timing. in sophia’s case, the memory loss appeared to stretch back at least three years.

her reactions didn’t quite line up with her records. she knew her name, her birthdate, her parents. but her current address? no. her career? law school. her last relationship? she said a boy’s name.

her brain, doctor kim said, had tried to protect her from the worst of the impact. but in doing so, it had folded parts of her life away…and those parts included you.

she didn’t promise you that it might return because memory recovery was never linear. most patients regained everything in a week, others remembered nothing but dreams and the rarest group got fragments and names with no meaning.

it was too soon to know.

her voice was kind and apologetic without saying sorry, you nodded at the right moments.

but your hands stayed cold in your lap and your breath never evened out because of the mere fact that sophia had opened her eyes, and for the first time since you met her, they didn’t recognise you.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the visits were quiet. no more than fifteen minutes at a time, now that the swelling had gone down. you signed the forms, memorised the neuro nurses’ names and followed every rule like it was scripture: 1. keep your shoes off by the door, 2. sanitise before touching, 3. no noise above conversation level and 4. no strong perfume.

they said the limits were for her recovery; overstimulation could trigger headaches and disorientation.

sophia slept through most of your visits. not deeply— more like a floating sort of sleep, as though her body was suspended between here and somewhere far. she blinked in and out, murmured greetings that barely passed her lips.

she never asked your name. when she did speak, it would just be a polite ‘hello’. even when her eyes were open, you could see it…that emptiness. the way her gaze drifted past you, never through you.

the absence of knowing, but you stayed anyway.

you brought a small bowl of warm water and a soft cloth each time, eucalyptus oil to mix in just a little. you washed her face gently, down the line of her jaw and behind her ears, trailed down her arms to her legs.

“just your wrists now. this one’s warm. okay, here we go,” you opted for quiet words so she wouldn’t startle and narrated your movements like a ritual.

when she was asleep, you talked about the weather, your progress in physio and about the girls — how daniela brought lumpia and fed it to the nurses like they were her children, that yoonchae cried the other night watching an old episode of grey’s anatomy, how lara nearly fought someone (manon) for the last fruit cup.

they were the kind of things she would want to know.

you braided her hair with her own brush; the soft one she used to keep in the bathroom drawer. the plaits were loose in the way she used to like them when she didn’t want a headache. parting her hair always made something in your chest ache, so you did it gently.

it happened two weeks after she woke up, you were wiping down her legs like you always did. everything had been a straight line, a routine was established. the blanket was folded neatly at the end of the bed and there were finally no machines beeping urgently.

she hadn’t stirred at all when you came in, just gave you a faint nod as you entered, eyes half-lidded, like she wasn’t fully here.

you were focused on her left calf, moving slowly, the muscles lean beneath your hands. she always had strong legs, used to tease her about how fast she walked, how you could never keep up because of her filipino calves.

smiling at the memory, you didn’t notice she was watching you until you looked up to wring the cloth.

her eyes were open, but this time, they weren’t unfocused.

she was staring at you with something new — still tired and dulled by medication, but alert in a way she hadn’t been before.

you paused when she began to speak.

her mouth opened slightly, voice coming out dry and cracked. “have we met before?”

your chest tightened, the cloth slipped from your hand and fell back on the bowl.

“yeah,” you hummed, trying to smile. “we’ve met.”

her eyes moved across your face with careful curiosity, it seemed like she didn’t want to be rude but also couldn’t pretend.

you placed the bowl beside the bed, keeping your movements steady. “my name’s y/n. i’ve just been…helping you out.”

“we’re friends?”

you took a deep breath. “yes.”

her lips parted like she was going to say something else, but her eyes were already drifting again, whatever focus she had quickly fading.

“i — well, i have to go, sophia,” you mumbled quickly, leaving everything behind as you pressed the call button but you didn’t wait for the nurse this time.

with quick steps, you held it together until you reached the stairwell.

then the weight buckled.

you sat on the bottom step and cried like you hadn’t since the night of the accident. breathlessly, like your ribs were being crushed from the inside and tried to put a hand on your chest as if that could contain it.

that night, you sat on the bed in your room, a tray of untouched crackers beside you, the tv playing low. manon came in without knocking and sat beside you with her knees pulled up, one sock half-off, her hair still damp from a rushed shower.

the light from the bedside lamp made everything feel smaller.

for a while, you didn’t say anything…just sat, shoulders touching because the silence felt full.

you picked at the corner of the blanket, voice coming to life silently. “what if she never remembers me?”

“what makes you ask that?”

“the last time she looked at me as her wife, she looked at me with so much adoration. now, there isn’t a single hint of recognition behind her eyes…it’s like…i’m a nobody.”

manon didn’t answer at first, just took your hand in both of hers and held it like it was something breakable.

she just squeezed once, gently. “then we’ll make her fall in love you again. you’re not hard to love, at all.”

and for a second, a flickering second — you let yourself believe that maybe she could.

the next morning, when you limped into the hallway outside sophia’s ward, something made you stop. it wasn’t just the silence, though that felt unnaturally thick for this part of the hospital. it wasn’t even the voices — low, unfamiliar murmurs that leaked through the ward’s sliding doors.

it was something colder, an energy so heavy it made you feel uneasy.

then you turned the corner and that was the answer to your question granted.

godfrey and carla stood stiffly by the door, dressed in winter coats too elegant for the plastic floor beneath them. they looked out of place.

his posture was immovable, arms folded tightly across his chest. despite her oversized sunglasses, carly was visibly shaking, her hands clasped in front of her as if she were holding herself together.

you hadn’t seen them since they made sophia choose between them or you. they refused the wedding invitation with silence, their absence a louder rejection than any letter could’ve offered.

now here they were, standing outside their daughter’s hospital room like ghosts that had finally decided to haunt the living.

carla spotted you first, lips parted as if she had already rehearsed what to say, but the emotion overtook her. “so you finally showed up.”

there was no warmth in her voice, only strain.

your grip on the cane tightened instinctively.

“i come here every day after rehab sessions,” you replied, keeping your voice steady. “i wasn’t expecting company.”

godfrey took a slow, deliberate step toward you. “and you didn’t think we deserved to know?”

“we found out from someone at her studio,” carla snapped, wiping under her sunglasses. “from one of her clients. not the hospital, not a friend nor a colleague. from a goddamn client, y/n.”

you inhaled slowly, willing your own grief not to rise and twist into something sharp.

“i was in the car with her too,” you muttered, jaw clenching. “i was unconscious. for days.”

your voice faltered before you found it again.

“since waking up, i’ve thought of nothing but her every fucking second. i come here everyday while dragging myself to physio, while trying to walk again and not knowing if she’d ever wake up.”

godfrey’s stare cut into you, hard and unrelenting.

you swallowed. “with all due respect, you’ve never liked me and you disowned her, so no, i didn’t think you’d care.”

silence hung, jagged and long. carla looked away. godfrey’s jaw clenched tighter.

then the ward door slid open and nurse janice stepped out, she frowned at the scene unfolding before her.

“this isn’t the place for arguments,” she said firmly, her gaze falling on godfrey. “if you need to talk, do it somewhere else. this is a recovery floor, not a courtroom.”

she turned toward you, voice gentler. “you okay if they go in and see her? they’ve been waiting.”

you nodded. “but they should know what to expect.”

you explained it quietly, evenly. about the crash and the trauma sophia sustained. how the neurologist now suspected retrograde amnesia —its effects were significant, likely covering the last three years.

the theory was that her brain, in trying to protect itself, had pulled back into safer memories…into a version of life before you.

“she doesn’t remember the life we built,” you tried so hard for your voice not to falter, not in front of them, no. “she asked me if we’d met before.”

carla’s knees wobbled and her hand found yours suddenly, fingers shaking. she held on like she was afraid she would fall apart if she let go.

and you steadied yourself despite the ache coming from your leg.

“maybe seeing you again will help,” you added softly. “she might remember the recent memories.”

carla gave a trembling nod, tears slipping from under her glasses. she let go of your hand slowly, fingers brushing your knuckles like they didn’t want to part.

you walked past them, arm burning from the effort. the air in the hallway felt thicker.

just before the turn to the lift, godfrey’s voice reached you. “y/n we’ll cover the medical costs…yours and hers.”

you stopped in your tracks but didn’t turn around. there was a lingering question in your head: what had changed? and what does this change?

but you just nodded and kept moving.

daniela and megan were in your room when you returned, curled up on the couch. the hospital tv glowed with the familiar blue of mario kart’s start screen. daniela had one leg tucked under her and the controller in her hand; megan was half-asleep, head resting against the armrest.

you limped to the recliner, groaning softly as you lowered yourself down and the cane clattered softly against the edge of the chair, your leg throbbing beneath the bandages.

“they’re here,” you announced, breathless. “sophia’s mum and dad.”

megan immediately sat up, already on her feet. she knelt in front of you without a word and gently pressed her fingers into the muscle around your knee with slow and even pressure. her palms were warm.

“how’d it go?” daniela asked, her voice had lost its usual mischief.

“not good,” you murmured. “they were angry. mostly at me…for not telling them.”

megan said nothing, just worked her thumbs in slow, steady circles.

“they were really upset because no one told them,” you continued. “i told them i was in the crash too. i’ve been pretty fucking occupied, you know what i mean?”

you blinked up at the ceiling with a frustrated groan, the white lights blurring slightly.

“and that they never liked me anyway.”

no one tried to correct you, megan stayed crouched in front of you, her hands still on your leg while daniela leaned forward to unpause the game, not to play, just to let the soft, familiar soundtrack fill the silence.

“i feel like a stranger in my own marriage,” you said quietly.

the words tasted bitter.

megan gave your leg one final press and rested her chin on your knee, looking up at you.

“you’re not a stranger,” she reassured you gently. “you’re just waiting to be remembered, but your love for sophia, it lingers. we can all see and feel the familiarity of it.”

the tears came then — not all at once, just a slow, burning sting in your eyes as the hospital hummed quietly around you.

for the first time that day, you let yourself cry.

and neither of them looked away.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

a few days later, after endless asking and a carefully worded appeal to sophia’s doctors, you were finally given permission: thirty minutes, that was all they could allow for now.

thirty minutes for sophia to be surrounded by familiar faces — something they said might help jog her memory, or at the very least, lift her spirits.

you entered her room slowly, pushing the door open with your shoulder, cane tucked under your arm. behind you, the girls trickled in one by one. lara first, her arms full of daisies from the corner florist; manon, dragging a small pink suitcase filled with snacks and old polaroids; yoonchae with a stuffed bear tucked under her arm; daniela held take-out drinks and megan brought nothing but her ridiculous charm (she was so confident that sophia would like it better than anything).

sophia looked up from the bed, blinking groggily. her head was propped against a pillow and the blinds had been opened to let the morning light spill gently across her face. when her eyes landed on the group, something changed. her mouth twitched, it was a hesitant smile as her gaze swept over each of them and then briefly, to you.

you could see it — the faintest flicker of recognition.

“wow,” sophia whispered, her voice hoarse but steady. “this is a lot…you lot…look older?”

“wow, still a bitch even after wiping a couple years of memories off her brain,” lara laughed, propping the bouquet in an empty vase.

“we missed you, dummy,” daniela smiled, dropping a straw into her drink before handing it over. “we figured it was time for an intervention.”

megan flopped into the visitor’s chair, grinning. “you look better than expected. bit corpse-y, but not bad.”

sophia let out a short, breathy laugh. her fingers fumbled with the straw. “thanks mei, i’m guessing you’re still you?”

“hey!” the younger girl frowned. “i’m basically your daughter, so you’re slandering your own blood.”

manon leaned against the side of the bed, brushing her knuckles lightly over sophia’s blanket-covered leg. “you’re doing really well, soph.”

sophia tilted her head slightly, looking at you again — this time longer. something passed behind her eyes, curiosity, maybe. or confusion.

then she looked at manon.

“are you her girlfriend?” sophia asked her. “are you guys a thing? i always see you two…you used to drag her here, manz.”

the room stilled for a second like it hadn’t expected her to speak more than ten words.

manon blinked, surprised. “me?” she snorted. “god, no. not even close!”

before anyone could say more, megan chimed in from the other side of the bed, far too excited to catch the change in the air. “she’s your wife, genius.”

your heart plummeted.

it felt like the whole world tilted and something had knocked the wind out of you without touching your chest. you hadn’t briefed them — not really, you assumed they would tiptoe around the subject like you had been.

it was stupid, so fucking stupid. because of course someone would say it, blurt it out like it wasn’t the thing you had been holding in your hands every day, delicate as glass.

sophia turned to look at you, confusion drawing sharp across her features.

“my — what?”

she glanced down, slowly, eyes landing on her hand; the ring. the one she never took off because she insisted it was ‘comfortable’ when she first woke.

her face changed.

“is this real?” she asked, voice thinner now. “am i actually married?”

no one answered, not even manon. they all looked at you like you held the answer but your mouth opened and nothing came out.

sophia pushed the blankets back, suddenly feeling overwhelmed and touching the ring like it had appeared without her knowing.

“i —” she sat up straighter, suddenly restless. “i need a minute. y/n, can you — can you step out, please?”

your breath hitched, suddenly frozen in your spot.

“please.”

you nodded, barely. the back of your throat burned, you didn’t look at the others — you couldn’t. it was embarrassing so you walked out without another word, the door closing softly behind you.

you didn’t hear anything else after that, just your own heartbeat pounding through the silence like it was trying to break something open.

three days had passed since.

the hospital room stayed cold no matter how many times you adjusted the thermostat. even the flowers lara brought had started to droop, leaning pathetically toward the window that barely let in sunlight.

and sophia hadn’t spoken much since that afternoon. not about the ring or the wedding and definitely not about the way she stared at you like she was seeing someone else’s life mapped onto hers.

“i just need time,” she said once, eyes on the wall behind you.

you said nothing and she didn’t ask you to leave this time, so you stayed.

you still arrived every morning before breakfast, despite the lingering soreness in your leg. you brought fruit cups and clean socks and swapped out the water jug like clockwork. she thanked you each time, polite and careful, like you were just another kind stranger who had simply been assigned to her.

you didn’t blame her, but it hurt in new and quiet ways.

when you helped her brush her hair, she no longer leaned into the touch. when you knelt to wash her feet with warm cloth like you always had — ever since that one winter she caught the flu and couldn’t stand for long, she kept her eyes fixed straight ahead.

“you really don’t have to do that,” she whispered softly.

“i know,” your voice didn’t tremble, but it felt like it should’ve.

you folded the cloth with steady hands and packed it away.

there were moments, flashes, where you thought you caught something in her — something curious or searching…like when she asked if she could read one of your books, the one you had left on the chair beside her. it was all about dopamine. or when she stared at her ring finger too long; or when she half-smiled at a joke you made and then quickly looked away because she wasn’t sure she was allowed to.

you never brought up the elephant in the room again and neither did she. it was better that way, you thought.

instead, you talked about the weather; or the nurse rotation and their chikas (she translated their conversations for you); or the birds that sometimes landed on the sill outside the fourth floor.

“that one’s back,” you murmured one morning, pointing at the stubby pigeon outside the glass. “he looks like he’s been punched.”

“hey,” sophia snorted and then caught herself. “you be nice to him.”

you didn’t look at her, smiling down at the cut fruit you were arranging onto her tray. whatever this was, it was better than the silence; awkward and random conversations to kill time.

the sound of her voice was enough to make your heart beat louder than anything else in the room, anyway.

“y/n,” she opened up later that afternoon, her voice quiet.

you looked up from your book. “yeah?”

“do you think i was happy?”

the question winded you, clearing your throat before answer. “i think you were very happy…content….and loved. very much so.”

she nodded slowly, maybe that answer made sense, she didn’t ask anything else.

you stayed in the chair beside her that night until your back hurt. then you stood, walked to the bathroom, ran a cloth under warm water and returned to her bed.

you crouched, gently lifting her foot. sophia didn’t stop you this time as her head leaned back into the pillow, watching you carefully.

you didn’t dare look up, but you felt her eyes on you.

and you wondered, as you wrung the cloth out into the bowl, if maybe…something in her was remembering what it felt like to be yours.

just maybe.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the day you and sophia were finally allowed to go home, the celebration carried on outside the hospital — all sunlight and camera shutters.

the girls began to joke about who cried the most (daniela), who brought the ugliest flowers (megan) who made the better playlist (manon, against lara and yoonchae’s will).

sophia looked overwhelmed but touched, her eyes flitting from face to face like she was still getting used to the attention again.

you stood a little further back, careful not to hover, though your hands itched to fix her jacket, to tuck the loose hair behind her ear. rather, you kept them folded in front of you, trying not to wince at the dull ache in your leg because you’d forgotten your cane in lara’s car and the cold didn’t help.

sophia’s parents stood a few feet off to the side, talking quietly between themselves until her carla glanced in your direction.

then they both started walking toward you as you braced yourself, smiling politely and straightening your back.

“y/n,” godfrey spoke first, not cold, but not quite warm either. “thank you for…everything. you’ve taken care of her well.”

“of course,” you answered with a small smile. “she’s my wife.”

he gave a tight nod, but it was her mum who lingered, eyes narrowing slightly the way they always had as if she was constantly working out where to place you in their lives.

“we just think,” she began wording it carefully. “that it might’ve been better if she came home to us, to the house. you know, her bedroom’s still exactly how she left it.”

you swallowed. kept your expression neutral. “with all due respect, mrs laforteza…she is home, with me.”

her brows lifted faintly. “is she, though?”

“we’re married,” you repeated, a little steadier now. “and i understand this is hard. for all of us. but taking care of her…it’s not just something i’m doing out of duty. it’s love, it’s what we promised each other.”

her dad sighed. “but she doesn’t remember that promise, does she?”

you looked down, then back at them. “she will and even if she doesn’t, i still meant every word. so unless she makes that choice herself, i’d love for her to stay with me.”

the silence between you stretched just long enough to make your chest tighten. but then sophia’s voice called from behind you — soft, curious.

“is everything alright?”

she was walking slowly toward you, bundled up in her navy peacoat, one arm looped around daniela’s. she looked so different from the last time you saw her in a hospital gown: stronger, cheeks a little pink from the wind.

her eyes flicked between you and her parents.

“all good,” you gave a small nod. “just talking.”

she tilted her head slightly, sensing something, but didn’t push. instead, she glanced at her mum, then at you again. “i’m ready to go if you are.”

“will you be coming to visit us, hija?” godfrey asked in that tone reserved for his only daughter.

“why wouldn’t i?” sophia giggled, looping her arm around yours for support. then you began to walk with her, waiting for them to object but they didn’t. “i think lara has a date so she wants to get out of here as soon as possible.”

“well, manon could’ve driven us since she offered,” you chuckled.

“i don’t remember her having a license when we first met…so…i don’t know if i can trust her skills.”

that one made you snort because she was going to be in for a ride with megan.

one quiet step at a time, you thought.

the sun had already begun its slow descent behind the warehouse buildings across the street, painting the sky in dull gold and soft grey. the apartment greeted you both in silence, a quiet too familiar now, stretching between the wide windows and exposed brick walls.

“you sure you’re going to be okay?” lara looked at you one last time just after she had unloaded the boxes in your apartment.

“yeah,” you let out a tired sigh. “thanks for everything…third wife.”

“third?” she feigned offence, gasping. “who the fuck is second?”

“hmm,” you smiled playfully. “it’s between manz and dani. maybe megan.”

“fuck off, you’re lucky i have to go!” she shook her head at you, but blew sophia a kiss. “see you later, my first wife: sophia.”

as you watched her drive off, the filipina stood next to you with confusion plastered all over her face; wondering what it was all about.

“…i hang around you and the girls so much that they reckon all six of them, including you, are my wives.”

“but i’m your real wife, aren’t i?” her eyebrows creased, as if she were thinking too deeply. “like on paper? we’re married?”

“yes, we are,” you smiled shyly. “let’s go inside and i’ll show you the papers, yeah?”

you guided her inside carefully, the weight of her presence making the space feel suddenly smaller and heavier.

“this is home,” you murmured gently, trying not to sound too hopeful. “ours.”

she sat in the chair, still in her coat, her face turned slightly as she looked around with narrowed eyes.

“this is where we live?” she asked. her voice wasn’t mean — just distant, unsure, like she was trying the words on for the first time.

you nodded. “since last year, you chose it, actually; converted warehouse. you loved that about it…the history.“

her gaze drifted up to the tall windows, the ceiling beams, the hanging plants you kept forgetting to water. the furniture was warm and mismatched, cushions worn from years of use, shelves stacked with vinyls, books, candles; tiny things you had both collected.

it wasn’t the mansion she remembered, not the world she had once belonged to. this was smaller but it was loved and it was yours and you were hoping she could at least feel that.

she didn’t say anything else, just kept looking around. you bent slowly, grimacing as your bad leg screamed in protest, hands shaking while untying her shoelaces in silence. you didn’t say a word, focusing on the loops, the soft scrape of her boots against the floor. she didn’t say thank you. just stood still, letting you do it like it was owed to her.

the routine came back easily like breathing. the same way you always did it after a long day — only now her body didn’t lean into you like it used to. now she didn’t smile down at you, tug at your hair and ask if there was chamomile left in the cupboard.

sophia’s eyes darted up to the ceiling beams. “it’s smaller than i thought.”

your hands faltered on the laces, despite already knowing the answer to it, you still asked: “than what?”

she didn’t answer, lips pressed thin.

when you stood back up, your breathing was uneven.

“i mean, i know the ceilings are quite high,” you murmured breathily, still trying to make it feel like home. “you liked that about it too…used to say it made you feel like the apartment could breathe.”

she remained quiet; her mood immediately shifting.

you helped her to her feet gently, guiding her down the hallway with one hand hovering near her back in case she needed it. you kept your touch light and distant…the way she seemed to want it.

“we’ve got three rooms,” you continued, standing with effort. “this way.”

she followed you through the hallway, her footsteps echoing against the old wooden floor. you watched her eyes scan every surface: the vinyl collection corner, alphabetised and colour-coded; the art prints you picked together; the chipped mug she once swore she’d take to the grave, now sitting on the bookshelf like a relic.

“this doesn’t feel like me,” she whispered in confusion. “i don’t understand any of this.”

your throat tightened. “i know, it’s okay. i just thought seeing it might help now.”

it was awkward…it didn’t feel right being home like this again because she didn’t fucking know you, there was no recollection of how she built this place to what it was now.

it was more of her, less of you.

“this is the studio,” you said as you opened the first door on the right. “mine…and kind of messy. don’t look too closely.”

she glanced inside. ceramic pieces lined the walls, unfinished, cracked and mended. the table still smelled faintly of clay.

“you’re a sculptor,” she said quietly, as if realising it for the first time. “is that right?”

“it’s how we met, you used to help me glaze pieces,” you replied. “but you got bored of it after a while.”

the second room you passed was the hobby room. the shelves were full of half-used sketchbooks, photography books, canvases stacked in a corner and a bunch of acrylic paints on the table. on one wall hung a corkboard full of photos — some of her with paint on her nose, some of you asleep in a beanbag; it was a collage of an old life.

“you were trying everything,” you spoke. “you wanted to find something that made you feel free. i think you just liked the trying and learning bit.

she stood still, humming as she tried to absorb it all. then she turned to the last door.

your bedroom.

it looked exactly like it had the day before the accident: her robe still hung behind the door, a water bottle sat on the nightstand. there were framed photos of your wedding, your travels, a blurry selfie of the two of you laughing, all lined along the dresser.

sophia didn’t move any further, eyes darting across the photos, the bed, the candle you lit every night just to keep the place feeling cosy.

her hands trembled slightly. “i also don’t remember this.”

you stood beside her, trying not to crowd her. “it’s okay, soph, i’m certain it’ll come back in pieces.”

but then she looked at the photos again — at herself smiling, her arms wrapped around you, so deeply in love…she stared at it like she was looking at someone else’s life.

then, without a word, her shoulder began to shake as she cried. not delicate, graceful tears — this was her feeling extremely overwhelmed.

you reached for her, instinct taking over, fingers brushing her shoulder.

“don’t touch me,” she flinched, her voice was sharp and too loud in the quiet room.

your hand froze mid-air, not knowing what to say as guilt filled your chest.

“i said don’t. i —” she shook her head, backing away further. “i don’t know you, i don’t want you touching me.”

you dropped your arm, slowly. your stomach churned in quiet shame. “i’m sorry,” you began, unsure what you were apologising for. “i didn’t mean to —”

“i left law school?” she asked, her voice suddenly rising. “i gave up law school and a mansion and my whole life…for this?”

all at once, your years together shrank - folded in on themselves, all collapsing like paper under water: your quiet mornings making coffee, her head on your shoulder during film nights, the wedding you built from nothing, with borrowed chairs and a playlist you burned onto a usb stick because you couldn’t afford a proper dj.

every fight you had forgiven, each sacrifice you made. the way you held her hand through the worst days, even when yours were just as heavy.

was that all it was to now? a moment of impulse she didn’t understand?

and it wasn’t like she was trying to be cruel either, but the words still landed like stones — the face you knew by heart, the voice that used to be home. and now, you couldn’t find yourself in her eyes.

“i don’t know who i am anymore,” she pressed her hands to her face, crying through her fingers. “i don’t know this place….what any of this means. y/n, i don’t know you.”

you stood there, heart in your throat. “i know,” you whispered. “i’m sorry, soph, i know it’s a lot to take in.”

“just — please,” she turned away, shoulders hunched and sat down on the edge of the bed. “please leave me alone. i just need a minute.”

“i’m sorry,” you walked out with a slight limp, fingers curling tightly around your cane. the bedroom door didn’t click shut behind you, but you closed it softly anyway, as if even that deserved gentleness.

from the other side, you could hear her crying —lost sobs in the centre of a room she no longer recognised. you leaned against the door for a moment, letting your head fall back. you inhaled deeply. held it. exhaled slowly. and you stood in the hallway alone, aching in a way that words couldn’t reach.

you didn’t eat dinner, opted to collapse into the couch as the cushions swallowed your sore body, staring at the ceiling until the ache in your chest eclipsed the one in your leg.

the apartment was too quiet without her humming in the kitchen, without her footsteps, her laugh echoing from the hall. your eyes landed on the vinyl shelf she used to curate with obsessive precision. her handwriting on the little tags; her ‘sundays with you’ section.

your chest squeezed.

she used to look at you like you were the best decision she ever made. tonight, she looked at you like you were a problem she didn’t know how to solve.

you pulled a throw blanket over your lap, buried your face into it, tears soaking the fabric slowly, and no matter how many times you told yourself to breathe, it didn’t stop hurting.

you missed her.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the knock came soft, but persistent. you didn’t hear it at first, too focused on shaping the curve of the vase you had been working on all week. your hands were caked in drying clay, your leg already beginning to ache from the hours spent standing, leaning too much on the wrong side.

it was only when the second knock came that you wiped your hands on a rag and hobbled out of the studio, limping slightly. your good leg was strong enough now that you could go without the cane sometimes, but the limp lingered — stubborn and quietly humiliating.

specially when the cold settled deep into the joint and sophia watched you massage it in frustration.

when you opened the front door, manon pushed in first, sunglasses still on despite the cloudy sky outside. “you didn’t answer the buzzer.”

“yeah, no shit, i couldn’t hear it.”

yoonchae trailed in after her with a sheepish grin, followed by daniela carrying two iced coffees and a paper bag that smelled like garlic and carbs.

“we brought moral support,” daniela announced, like that was reason enough for the intrusion. “and judgement, if necessary.”

“we missed you,” yoonchae said simply, walking in and looking around.

you followed slowly, every step a quiet reminder of what had happened. the ache was dull today, maybe manageable…but it was always there.

they spread out across your studio, yoonchae already perching herself on the small couch near your display shelf, daniela took the low chair by the kiln and manon stood with her arms crossed, examining your unfinished pieces.

“she’s out with her brothers, right?” manon asked.

you nodded, dragging your leg forward and leaving the door open behind them. “they went to some sneaker place, i think.”

“perfect,” manon muttered. “we’ve been trying to corner you all week.”

“corner me?”

“emotionally.”

yoonchae watched you walk and frowned. “is that going to get better?”

“yoonchae!” manon called out sharply, but you shook your head and laughed, grabbing a rag to wipe the clay from your palms.

daniela sighed. “okay, totally not the judgement i was wanting to send across.”

“what?” yoonchae blinked. “i just meant —”

“it’s alright,” you murmured, settling slowly onto the edge of the studio bench. “yeah, it’s getting better. less pain than before. some days it feels like i’m almost normal again and other days it’s like i just got hit yesterday.”

they all went silent for a second. you could feel it…the weight of their pity and how it filled the air like humidity.

daniela handed you one of the iced coffees. “how’s everything…otherwise?”

she didn’t say sophia’s name, none of them did these days. it was an unspoken thing between you all now — how careful everyone was being around it.

since that day, things had changed. not even in a way most people would notice, but you did. you felt it in the spaces between things…in the way she no longer laughed at your jokes and how she avoided your side of house.

it was like living with a ghost of your life. or maybe, you were the ghost.

at the hospital, sophia had been quiet, dazed and tender in small ways — grateful, even, that someone was there to hold her toothbrush and explain what day of the month it was.

there was warmth in her confusion back then, a soft politeness that still clung to you like hope. you told yourself it would come back to her, eventually, and she just needed time to heal.

but now, at home, reality had started to settle like dust on untouched surfaces. and sophia wasn’t confused anymore — she was distant and careful in her presence around you, as if she had to constantly check herself.

was she in someone else’s house? someone else’s life? someone else’s love story?

sometimes, she looked at you like she was trying to do the math of it all. her eyes tracing your face too long, watching how you stirred your tea, how you wiped the kitchen counter down with the same cloth as always. and there was never judgment in it…but there was no closeness, either.

she studied you in the way you would look at a childhood friend whose name you forgot.

you kept thinking about what doctor kim had said: “she might not remember falling in love with you. and if that’s the case, she may need to fall in love with you all over again. if she wants to.”

if she wants to.

you didn’t ask if she did…you didn’t think you could survive the answer.

the coffee was bitter as you took a sip. “difficult,” you admitted. “i don’t know how to explain it. it’s like she’s here but…not. like i’m living with a version of her that i’ve never met.”

manon’s gaze drifted past you, to the small stack of wine bottles near the couch, the blankets tucked neatly over the armrest and the pillow propped just right.

“so she’s in the bedroom?” she asked, already connecting the dots.

you glanced toward the living room too, at the faint imprint from where you slept last night. and the night before that. and the week before that.

you hesitated. “yeah.”

“and you’re out here?”

“better me than her,” you answered quietly. “it’s her bed too. and it’s not like she asked me to leave the room. i just…didn’t want her to feel like she had to share that space with me if she wasn’t ready.”

daniela shifted forward on the stool, her eyes softer now. “you don’t have to martyr yourself, you know.”

you smiled faintly, but it didn’t reach your eyes. “it’s not martyrdom. it’s just…this is easier, like she flinches when i brush past her shoulder in the hallway, you know?”

yoonchae moved beside you, her knee brushing yours. “does she ask about it?”

“no, she doesn’t ask much of anything anymore. we talk, but it’s surface-level. weather, breakfast, her plans for the day. sometimes i catch her looking at me like she’s trying to remember something but then it’s gone.”

you pressed the cup to your lips again to keep from saying more. the room was quiet except for the hum of the fridge and the faint tapping of daniela’s fingers against the takeaway bag.

“do you think she’ll remember?” she asked.

you didn’t answer right away. your gaze moved to the studio shelves — lined with unfinished sculptures and glaze samples. there was a piece she used to love: a white ceramic bust with cracks along the cheekbones that you had intentionally left unsealed.

she said it reminded her of you. now, she hadn’t even looked at it.

“i don’t think she’ll ever remember me, but i’m hoping still,” you admitted, fingers curling tightly around the cup. “and i don’t blame her. she’s not doing anything wrong. it’s just how it is; strangers in a house that remembers us.”

the answer came too easily, like you’d been reciting it in your own head for days. before anyone could respond, the front door opened.

surprisingly, sophia walked in first, keys in hand, smiling so brightly the whole flat felt lighter for it. two boys followed behind her, arms full of shopping bags.

“hope you don’t mind,” she greeted, slipping her shoes off at the door. “i brought my brothers.”

“hey fifi!” manon waved with a grin. “you’re home a bit early.”

“yeah, i got a headache,” sophia frowned, but smiled at you and the rest of the girls anyway. “sorry to interrupt.”

you stood, heart thudding in your chest as your leg flared in protest, but you didn’t care. you wiped your hands on your pants, suddenly aware of how much clay you had on your shirt and the smudge near your collarbone.

basil walked in first, tall and quiet, followed by a lankier teen, oreo, who looked exactly like sophia when she was seventeen — mischievous smile and all.

“hi y/n,” oreo said brightly. “it’s nice to finally meet you after all these years.”

your stomach turned.

sophia looked between you and her brothers. “wait…you’ve never met them?”

your mind scrambled. of course this would come up, you hadn’t even thought of her brothers.

suddenly, your mind remembered things before your body could — the day sophia cried on the balcony after another call from her father. remembered the words: “if you stay with her, you’ll lose everything, including your brothers.”

her way of protecting all of you was by keeping the worlds separate.

although, you eventually got to know her brothers through stories; the notes she wrote about them in her songwriting notebook; through old photos on an archived instagram. remembered everything about them too, she used to talk about basil’s piano recitals, oreo’s obsession with space and the way they all used to sneak out for milk tea after curfew.

so, you knew them. always had; they just never knew you.

“we were studying in the philippines,” basil said smoothly, saving you. “bad timing, i guess.”

sophia paused. “right. yeah, okay.”

manon, bless her heart, stepped forward and broke the tension. “so! shopping day, huh?”

oreo beamed. “she bought me a bunch of clothes. i’m officially cool now.”

sophia laughed, bright and unfiltered. “he’s graduating this year. i still can’t believe it.”

“no way,” daniela chimed in. “you were like twelve the last time i saw you!”

“dani, i’m seventeen!”

sophia reached out to touch oreo’s hair and he ducked, laughing. and just like that, her whole face lit up. the corners of her eyes creased when she laughed. there was joy in her again, like sunlight coming through a window you didn’t realise had been dirty all along.

you watched her quietly, heart aching.

this version of her, the one who lit up like the sun just from being around people she loved, was still your wife. she was different, yes — so different, but she was still the woman you married.

and even if your sophia never came back…this version of her, this girl with joy in her voice and kindness in her eyes — you knew you could love her just the same. maybe even more.

you would learn to love her in all the ways she allowed you to. again and again and again…even if it broke you in the process.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

tw: violent scene, three years ago

it had started as one of your favourite nights.

you walked her home from dinner, shoulders brushing in the cool evening air. sophia had been in a good mood — laughing, tucked into her coat, one hand always reaching for your arm when she got too excited about something.

her cheeks were flushed from the wine and her goodbye was soft at the gate, a hesitant “text me when you get home,” and a look like she maybe wanted to kiss you but didn’t know how to ask.

you didn’t mind. she had time — you both did.

the late bus back to your side of town was your only way home, didn’t even think twice about it. this was the nicest part of the city.

the stop was mostly empty; just three young boys, clearly drunk, one of them eating chips out of a plastic bag like it was a lifeline.

you didn’t look at them, they didn’t try to bother you either as you checked your phone and read her last message again, the one that said: you’re really easy to talk to, y/n. i miss u already

and then —

“hey.” a sharp voice, lazy and half-slurred. “you better leave that pretty girl alone, you hear me?”

you looked up, confused. “you’re talking to me?”

“yeah, you,” the tallest one grunted, stepping forward. “you think we don’t see you tryna flirt with her? think you’re slick?”

“i think you’ve got the wrong —”

the first hit landed before you could finish. it wasn’t even hard — just fast and unexpected, a shove to your shoulder that knocked you into the bench. then another. and another. your knees scraped concrete and your head rang.

someone kicked your side as you curled in on yourself, arms up, stupidly thinking if you protected your face, it wouldn’t get worse.

but it did.

your right hand was the worst of it. something cracked…maybe more than once. your fingers bent wrong. it didn’t feel like your hand anymore.

“fucking idiot,” one of them muttered as he walked off. “can’t say we didn’t warn ya!”

they left you there on the pavement. the bus came and you got on anyway. the driver hesitated but didn’t say anything when you sat down, blood soaking through your jeans and your breath catching on the cold like your ribs had forgotten how to move.

and when you reached home, your body took over the carpeted floor and shut the rest of the world off.

it took four days.

you were trying to wash your hair one-handed when the buzzer rang, heart tugging but you kept ignoring it.

it rang again and again. and then there were footsteps — heels, too confident for a stranger and a sharp knock on your door.

you opened it, towel slung over your shoulder, hand still wrapped in an ice pack.

sophia stood there, angry and wild-eyed. she pushed past you into the apartment.

“what the hell?” she exasperated. “you disappear for days and then i find out from mina, the gallery curator mind you, that you got fucking jumped? why are you ignoring me?”

you couldn’t even look at her. “it wasn’t a big deal.”

“not a big deal?” she grabbed your wrist gently. her eyes dropped to your hand. “your fingers are purple.”

you pulled away. “they didn’t like how close we looked, i got warned.”

that stopped her, her breath hitching. she said your name quietly like it hurt to say. “i’m so sorry.”

you shook your head. “sophia, it’s not your fault.”

“it is,” she whispered. “if i wasn’t — if i didn’t let you walk me home —”

“don’t do that,” you said, voice trembling. “please.”

and then she sat on your couch and refused to leave; ordered takeout and helped you change your bandages.

the next day, she was still there. and the next. and then the next. she never came home to her gated mansion after…not really.

“i want to be here forever,” she told you, curled up beside you on your second-hand mattress. “with you.”

and she meant it.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the apartment was dim, lit only by the early morning light bleeding in through the tall windows. you woke to soft shuffling — barefeet on floorboards, to be specific.

the room smelled like clay and dust and something faintly sweet, perhaps from the leftover pastries from a couple days ago. when you sat up, your joints groaned in protest, your body stiff from another night spent curled beneath the window. you could hear faint rustling from the far end of the apartment and it wasn’t the fridge this time, was something that sounded gentler.

in curiosity, you followed the sound, barefoot and careful on the cool timber floor until you reached the vinyl corner; her sanctuary back when things felt less breakable.

sophia was crouched there, her back to you - hair still a little messy from sleep, harbouring the old grey jumper you hadn’t touched since the accident, sleeves pushed to her elbows as she leafed carefully through her songbooks like they were sacred relics she didn’t recognise.

you didn’t want to startle her.

“good morning,” you mumbled gently, almost apologetic and voice still rough from sleep.

she turned slightly, just enough to glance at you over her shoulder. “hey,” she murmured back, distracted but not cold. her fingers trailed across the cover of a notebook with peeling gold stars.

you stepped in slowly. “you alright?”

“yeah. just…curious, i guess,” she answered, staring at a lyric sheet covered in chord notes. “these are all mine?”

“every single one,” you settled on the ottoman nearby, keeping space between you. “you used to write for hours. sometimes you would forget to eat. there was this one summer you barely left this chair.”

“me?”

you nodded. “yeah and you’re kind of a big deal in the local scene.”

she flipped a few pages slowly, brow furrowed. “i really don’t remember any of this. i…it doesn’t feel like me. law school was all i ever wanted.”

you moved carefully to your feet again, testing your weight on your leg before limping toward her. “you were already planning a studio when we met. you were still in law school, but…it wasn’t making you happy. you used to say it felt like you were living someone else’s life.”

she glanced around at the setup, trying to measure herself against it.

you exhaled slowly. “and you did a semester part-time while the studio started up. but once the label stuff came in…you finally decided to choose music.”

she didn’t say anything for a while, still staring at her handwriting like it belonged to someone else.

“i don’t know how that happened,” she murmured.

you shrugged, lips curving slightly. “you fell in love with sound and eventually produced tracks for some really popular bands in the city and you always said that law taught you structure — but music made you feel free.”

her eyes pierced yours, something quiet flickering there. “will you take me there? to the studio?”

you smiled, feeling like you had just won a prize. “do you really want to?”

“i think so,” she answered shyly. “if that’s okay.”

you nodded, already planning how to pace yourself, how long you could stay on your feet. “yea, of course.”

she smiled, the faintest one. “then i guess we better get ready.”

preparation was quiet and domestic in a way that made your chest ache.

sharing the bathroom like old times, you got ready together. she brushed her hair while you sat on the closed toilet lid, trying not to wince as you stretched your leg. she caught your eye in the mirror and smiled at you softly before passing you the toothpaste.

the morning light spilled into the kitchen as you finally stood brushing your teeth beside her. she yawned as she tied her hair, bumping your elbow once by accident.

and for a moment, just a second too long, it felt like nothing had changed, that you were just getting ready for another weekday together —your routine and rhythm intact.

sophia stepped out to the kitchen while you stayed behind in the bedroom. it was the first time you really looked around in days, you had been careful not to touch too much and disrupt whatever space she needed.

but now you glanced at the wardrobe, cracked open with familiarity and allowed your eyes to settle on the photos lining the shelves.

a wedding photo stared back at you from the top of the dresser. your hand in hers, heads tipped together, eyes full of laughter. however, the frame on the bedside table had been turned face down. a small, almost imperceptible shift — but you noticed.

the pang came sharp, fast, burying itself deep in your chest like a quiet rejection.

your throat tightened because you didn’t know if she did it intentionally or if it had simply tipped, but either way; it stayed that way.

you didn’t flip it back.

the feeling was swallowed down instead as you followed sophia to the kitchen, where she was plating eggs and toast, humming softly. she handed you coffee with both hands as soon as you came into view.

“hey, you remembered how to cook,” you teased gently, settling into your chair.

she smiled. “muscle memory, maybe. it’s not bad, right?”

“it’s perfect,” you grinned, taking a sip.

the conversation flowed easier this morning. she asked questions; about the studio, the music she liked, the kind of bands she worked with. you answered everything, watching her eyes widen as she pieced together a version of herself that had once been second nature.

she sat across from you. “so…what else did i like? besides poached eggs and writing music i don’t remember?”

you smiled, small. “hmmm, you liked cooking, dancing in the living room and late-night drives with the windows down…also bad horror movies. and that one filipino noontime show you were obsessed with.”

“which one?”

“it’s showtime?”

“oh my god,” she laughed, eyes wide. “yes.”

“you cried for two days when they got shut down for a minute.”

“i didn’t know they got shut down,” she grinned, poking at her eggs. “but sounds about right.”

“the studio,” you paused, sipping your coffee. “was the reason we could afford this place. we used to live in a tiny one-bedroom with no heating. i remember we’d leave the oven on to keep warm. but yeah, yunjin and giselle — your staff…they’re looking after it now.”

“it sounds like we lived in chaos.”

“indeed,” you said fondly. “but we were happy and it was beautiful.”

she stared down at her coffee. “this version of me…she sounds fearless.”

“she was. you still are.”

when breakfast ended, you tried to get up to clear the plates. your leg ached from being seated too long, the cold creeping in and hands gripping the table instinctively.

“i’ll get it,” sophia interjected, already standing. she returned a second later with your cane, holding it out. “here.”

you hesitated.

“come on,” she stepped closer, held her hand out gently.

it was the first time in weeks…her warmth. the offer. you stared at it for a second before taking it and she wrapped her fingers around yours with surprising care. she steadied you as you shifted weight onto your leg.

“sorry about the limp,” you muttered, half embarrassed.

she glanced down at your leg. “you don’t have to apologise every time you move,” she spoke, half-teasing. “we both got into a pretty bad crash and lived to tell the tale.”

you smiled, embarrassed. “it still feels like i’m apologising for slowing the world down.”

“then slow it down,” she said. “it’ll wait.”

you looked at her. “it gets worse in the cold, i’m counting the days ‘til summer.”

she nodded. “we’ll keep the place warm then. for now.”

you felt yourself smiling, not just out of gratitude, but because it felt like something sacred had returned.

“we’ll have to uber,” you winced as you adjusted your stance. “jennilyn’s officially dead.”

sophia’s brows furrowed. “jennilyn?”

“our camry,” you began to laugh. “you named her after jennilyn mercado.”

you grinned. “you were obsessed. said she was the definition of talent and beauty.”

she rolled her eyes. “i was always more of a kapamilya girl so i think you’re lying.”

“me? excuse you,” you raised an eyebrow. “my nominee was anne curtis!”

she laughed; the most beautiful sound. “missed opportunity.”

you laughed along with her, letting yourself imagine, just for a moment c what it would feel like if all of this wasn’t temporary. if this version of her, warm and playful and curious, was here to stay.

when you got to the studio, it clearly hadn’t changed.

the sunlight poured in the same way through the dusty skylights and the sound panels still wore the imprints of giselle’s stickers and yunjin’s messy handwriting — notes to self scrawled on yellow post-its. the scent of lavender cleaning spray clung to the couch that you could almost pretend it was a regular day, that sophia hadn’t forgotten everything and she still knew which of these cables she hated and which of the speakers buzzed faintly when left idle.

you stood beside her, still holding your breath. “this is where you spent most of your nights,” you said quietly. “you used to sleep on that couch when you had deadlines.”

she glanced at the couch and nodded once.

she stood near the soundboard, fingertips tracing over the faded edge like she was trying to remember how it felt to belong to it.

“you always hated that switch,” you smiled, limping closer. “you’d flick it by accident and lose ten minutes of recording.”

she hummed without laughing, just kept touching everything with narrowed eyes in concentration.

“do you wanna hear something?” you asked. “one of your songs...i’ve got it saved.”

sophia hesitated. “okay.”

your heart rose a little. maybe this would help, maybe music would bring something back.

you connected your drive and pulled up halflight — a song she had written for a contemporary dance piece two years ago. it one of her favourites, you still remembered the way her eyes lit up when she finally finished mixing the cello part.

you hit play and the piano started first, soft and wandering. you turned it up just slightly, watching her out the corner of your eye.

“this one you started after our first big fight, couldn’t tell you what it was all about though,” you muttered, smiling a little to yourself. “you were so dramatic about it — pacing around here like a storm, then you sat down and said ‘i want it to sound like heartbreak standing still.’ and you did it, you really did.”

the first few notes unfurled into the room. it was slow, reverent. echoing strings, soft piano: familiar and haunting. you smiled to yourself, turning slightly so she could see your face, just in case she needed the safety of something recognisable.

her back was still turned to you.

“this part —” you began, pointing toward the screen. “this is the one you rewrote, like, twelve times? i thought you were going insane.”

a soft chuckle left you, but it hung unanswered in the air. she was still staring at the floor.

“and the bridge,” you added. “you said it reminded you of when we first fought. remember? the laundry fight…over the pink sheets because you spilled my matcha on it and you said i ‘never should’ve been drinking it in bed in the first place because there’s a kitchen for that.’”

nothing; not even a twitch.

you kept going, rambling now, hoping something would shift. “that bridge section was the one giselle cried over…like, actually cried. we didn’t tell you because you would’ve never let us live it down and —”

“can you turn it down?” she quietly asked.

you didn’t hear her. “— but it was the part where you —”

“turn it off, y/n,” she snapped coldly.

your fingers hovered over the desk as you turned toward her, slightly taken aback with confusion settling in your chest. “sorry, i —”

“just fucking turn it off!” she raised her voice at you, tone sharp and mean like everything else these days. “jesus, this bullshit — it’s not me. i don’t care how many poetic metaphors you attach to it, all of this has given me a fucking headache.”

you flinched.

her voice grew louder with every word, there was venom in it — brows furrowed in frustration, her body stiff and coiled like she had been holding this in for too long.

“this place,” she continued, gesturing wildly. “this studio and that stupid song, all these memories you keep forcing down my throat. i never wanted this. law school — that was my life.”

you just stood there, breath catching in your throat as you gave her the space to let it all out.

the song still played, quietly, behind her voice. it felt cruel, now…like background music to your own humiliation. you reached out slowly and turned the speaker knob, silencing everything.

and then silence. a kind of silence that made your cheeks burn because you had never felt so small under her gaze.

sophia had stepped back, arms folded tight against her chest, as if the room had suddenly become dangerous.

“this…” she kept going, heaving out an exhausted sigh. “this isn’t me. this place — i don’t know what the fuck this is, i don’t want any of it and i don’t want this life.”

you stood there, one hand still resting lightly on the keyboard, as if letting go would make it worse. the blood in your legs felt like it had drained and your chest caved in, for a second, you wondered if you were dreaming.

“i know this must be confusing —” you tried, carefully.

“it’s not fucking confusing,” she spat. “it’s pretty clear to me that it’s bullshit. you’re filling my head with things i should feel, but i don’t. this isn’t for me — you aren’t for me.”

your ears rang.

she hadn’t meant to say that last part…maybe. or maybe she had, maybe it slipped out like something festering finally found air.

you couldn’t lift your eyes from the mixer, pulse throbbing somewhere deep behind your ribs.

because what do you say when the love of your life recoils from the very life you built together?

sophia has never spoken to you like that; her words hung heavy in the air, still echoing off the walls.

not even when she was overwhelmed and exhausted and bitter at the world. her voice had always been laced with care, even when she was upset, she never made you feel small.

but now…now, standing in the very place you built together — she made you feel like an intruder.

you blinked hard, swallowing the lump in your throat. your cheeks felt hot from shame, the kind that settles into your skin and stays there.

you wished you hadn’t said anything and never pressed play.

“i’m trying really hard, sophia,” you didn’t look up. “i’m trying so hard to help you…to not push you, to be kind and patient, but you can’t keep doing this to me every time you hit a wall, it’s not fair because this —” you finally lifted your eyes. “this isn’t how we talk to each other, this isn’t us.”

she looked away, jaw tight, arms crossed.

you felt pathetic…like you were begging someone to remember how to love you.

“you may not remember the life we built together, and that’s okay because it’s not your fault,” you added, voice cracking near the end. “but i do.”

her silence stung more than her words. you nodded slowly to yourself as you realised she had nothing to say to you, then turned to leave.

“come out when you’re ready,” you whispered, before walking out the door and shutting it quietly behind you.

your hands trembled, cane clacking once too loud on the stair. your chest ached in that terrible, hollow way that always came after being yelled at by someone who used to look at you like you were sunlight.

there was no dignity in it. no protection in loving someone who couldn’t love you back…not because they wouldn’t, but because they couldn’t.

and still, somehow, it was more humiliating to realise she didn’t even know what she was taking from you.

it really was the beginning of the end, wasn’t it?

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

you didn’t say much these days.

the apartment had grown quieter, even in the hours that weren’t supposed to feel so heavy. you woke up early like always, limping around the apartment with your cane, keeping busy with small things like making tea and cleaning surfaces that didn’t need cleaning.

sophia would come into the kitchen some mornings with a faint good morning and you would answer softly, careful not to crowd her, not to say too much, not to be too much.

and you hated how you had grown quiet when you had so much you want to tell her, but the silence felt safer than saying the wrong thing again. you found yourself moving softer, closing doors gentler and pausing a second longer before speaking — as if anything you said might spark something horrible in her again.

luckily, today she was out. lara had picked her up, daniela had texted you a group photo from the passenger seat, yoonchae tried to call you and manon had threatened to post an embarrassing throwback if you didn’t come. you replied with a thumbs up and a vague ‘maybe next time.’

you had already made up your mind not to go.

you were in your pyjamas, back braced with a heat pack and legs stretched awkwardly across the couch, gaming laptop open on your lap.

megan’s voice crackled through your headset from across the city. “that’s bullshit!”

“you know,” you grumbled into your headset, adjusting your position on the couch, “you could heal faster if you didn’t keep peeking mid.”

her sniffle echoed through your headphones, followed by a violent cough. “shut up. my immune system is depressed, i’m playing with blurred vision.”

you glanced at your screen. she just died, again.

“sure,” you replied dryly. “maybe if you buy a phantom like the rest of us instead of being edgy.”

“the vandal sounds better,” she muttered.

you shifted carefully, wincing at the dull throb climbing up your back. your leg had started aching again halfway through the second round, and now even the blanket bunched beneath your knee wasn’t helping.

you should’ve stayed in bed, but the bed wasn’t yours anymore.

your team lost. again. megan groaned in frustration.

“i’m actually gonna kill you,” she was saying. “you let me get sniped again. that’s like…the third time. fourth, if we count the warm-up round.”

“i was healing,” you murmured, leaning into the back cushion. “you ran into gunfire like you had a death wish.”

“i do have a death wish. i’ve been sick for five days, i’ve eaten nothing but strawberry milk and blue takis and i haven’t seen sunlight since tuesday.”

you smiled at that. “you got sick on saturday.”

“exactly! why do you think i sound like a victorian orphan? this is my deathbed.”

you chuckled quietly, letting her rant. the sound of her voice was comforting, megan didn’t require anything from you except your presence. even when she was annoying, she was never hard to be around.

but somewhere between matches, you stopped laughing and the dreaded silence came back, curling around your chest like a slow ache.

she must’ve noticed because she was quiet for a moment. then: “you alright? you got quiet.”

you clicked into a new round. “yeah, just tired.”

“uh huh,” a pause. “and that’s why you’re letting your best duelist die a slow humiliating death?”

you smiled without meaning to. “oh, don’t be dramatic.”

“too late. i am dramatic — tell me what’s wrong.”

you didn’t respond right away. your fingers hovered above your keyboard, half-committed to reloading.

“we had a fight,” you sighed, closing your eyes. the ache settled deeper, crawling behind your ribs this time. “at the studio.”

megan didn’t speak, just waited.

“she hated it,” you whispered. “not just the space. the music, her music. she said it wasn’t her and that she never wanted it.”

your throat tightened, hands starting to tremble.

“and i get it,” you kept going, voice quieter. “she doesn’t remember and she’s scared and frustrated and overwhelmed. but the way she looked at me…it was like i was forcing something awful on her, as if the life we had was this mistake she never meant to make.”

the match started but you didn’t move.

“and i’m trying, mei. i’m trying so hard to be patient, to be kind, to give her space. but —” you broke off, swallowing the lump in your throat. “she hates the old sophia. and i think she hates that i keep trying to bring her back.”

you heard megan shift through the headset. the sound of a blanket being pulled closer.

“it’s like…she hates who she used to be. when i look at her, i can see that everything we built together makes her sick.”

you stared at the screen, blurry with tears now. your keyboard lighting pulsed faintly, casting your hands in dull blue.

“i don’t know what i’m doing,” you said, the words finally spilling. “i don’t know how to help her and i don’t even know if she wants my help.”

you wiped your nose on your sleeve.

“her parents were over the other day. i think…i think they’re trying to convince her to move back in with them, back to the mansion. law school’s come up again, too. i heard them in the kitchen.”

megan didn’t speak, but you could hear the gentle breathing on the other side; her presence alone kept you going.

“i don’t know what hurts more. that she might go. or that maybe she’s supposed to. maybe this version of her doesn’t love me, maybe she never will.”

megan let out a quiet sigh on the other side of the line. “you don’t believe that.”

“i want to,” you whispered. “i want to believe she’ll fall in love with me again. it only took a month last time.”

you laughed pathetically, turning away from the screen. the living room looked dim in the soft afternoon light, the shadows of your sculptures looming like silent witnesses. the photo frame of your wedding day was still turned face-down on the bedside table, though you tried not to take it personally.

“so why does it feel harder now?” you asked. “why does it feel like i’m loving someone who’s already halfway out the door?”

you wiped your face again, quietly.

“i just want my wife back.” you closed your eyes. “i just want her to love me again.”

megan said nothing but you could still hear the soft static of breathing, she was listening. she knew that was the only thing you needed.

and as the silence stretched…it dawned on you, like the waves kissing the shore, that perhaps you had to accept this: sophia was never coming back to you.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

a few days later, it was nearly midnight when you finally got off the bus.

your leg throbbed — sharp, persistent, like your body was warning you that you had pushed it too far. the meeting had gone longer than expected. you hadn’t even planned to stay for the post-tour drinks, but the gallery curator, sana, was kind and young and full of ideas.

you said yes out of politeness and stayed out of hope. and to make matters worst, you realised halfway down the tramline, that you left your cane back at home.

the night was unforgiving, wind slicing through your jacket, making every step feel heavier than the last. you had meant to text sophia, really had, but your phone had died somewhere between chatsworth road and that weird corner petrol station where the bus driver had stopped for a ten-minute break.

by then, you were too cold to be annoyed about it.

bills had started to pile. too many unopened emails. the accident had thrown everything out of rhythm: your savings gone to physio, medication and taxis when the pain got unbearable. and the recording studio, the only stable thing left, had been left to giselle and yunjin to run alone.

sophia hadn’t even asked about it. not once, not since she screamed at you in that same room.

you didn’t blame her…not anymore.

when you finally reached the apartment, a sense of relief washed over you as your hands shook fumbling with the keys, the ache in your lower back spreading like fire.

the place was dark as you pushed the door open. of course it was, you liked it better that way lately; less chance of stepping wrong, no chance of disappointing someone.

you toed your boots off, shoulders sagging. the floor creaked beneath your weight as you stepped inside. your only goal now was the couch, some warmth and a good night’s sleep. maybe heat if your leg didn’t stop aching.

and then —

“hi.”

you turned, startled, heart in your throat.

her voice cut through the silence, sharper than the cold. she was curled up on the couch, her legs tucked under her, face partially hidden by a thick hoodie. her hair was a little messy, eyes wide.

“jesus, sophia,” you muttered, heart pounding. “you scared the shit out of me.”

she stood up. “you didn’t answer your phone.”

you gasped, confused. “i — what?”

“and you left without your cane.”

“…yeah. i know.”

her face twisted, the worry fully blooming now. “i’ve been trying to call you for hours. i thought something happened. you could’ve fallen or passed out or —”

you swallowed, throat dry. “i’m sorry. i was at a gallery meeting across town and didn’t realise i forgot it.”

“do you know how cold it is?” her voice cracked, rising. “i thought something happened to you. i nearly called manon to check the hospitals.”

“i’m okay,” you assured softly, eyes already drifting toward the hallway. “i’m sorry i scared you. i didn’t mean to, but i’m here now so you can go to bed.”

she crossed her arms. “no. i’m staying out here.”

your eyebrows furrowed. “why?”

“because it’s freezing,” she simply answered, as if that explained everything. “and you’re not sleeping on that couch again. i’ll take it tonight.”

you shook your head, instantly. “no. i’ve got it, it’s fine.”

“you’re limping worse than usual.”

“it’s fine, soph.”

“come to bed.”

you shook your head again. “no, you go ahead. i’ll take the couch.”

“don’t be ridiculous.”

“it’s not ridiculous. i don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“then i’ll take the couch.”

“sophia —”

“just come to bed,” she snapped firmly, the words too fast. she caught herself a beat later, softer: “i’ll join you in a bit.”

you hesitated, wanting to argue more but too worn out to lift your chin. “…okay, but only because i physically don’t have it in me to keep fighting.”

when you changed out of your damp clothes slowly, each movement was a negotiation with your body. you eased yourself into bed, trying not to groan at the way the pain pulsed under the covers. the cold had settled deep into the joints as you laid still, expecting her to stay in the lounge on that nasty old couch you still hadn’t cleaned properly.

you turned your head just as she appeared at the door, a heat pack in her hands.

“for your leg,” she murmured.

she flicked on the lamp before sitting on the edge of the bed and placed the heat pack gently against your thigh. it was warm — god, it was warm — and your body sagged into it like it was salvation.

“thanks,” you uttered as you rubbed it against your leg. “it’s fucking freezing, isn’t it?”

“how’s physio going?” she asked.

you smiled, sleepy, and so, so tired. “can i tell you all about it tomorrow?”

she didn’t say anything for a moment, just pulled the covers higher up your body. and then she shifted, laying down beside you, not too close. the bed dipped with her weight.

and then, her laugh — quiet, soft, almost fond. it was the last thing you heard before sleep pulled you under.

soft morning light cutting in through the gaps in the curtains was what woke you, streaking across the sheets in warm golds. the room was still, but not empty. the mattress held the imprint of sophia’s weight and her scent — passionfruit, shampoo, something warm beneath it, lingered stubbornly on the pillows.

for a second, your brain, still softened by sleep, almost let you believe this was normal. you blinked against the light and let yourself enjoy the way your back didn’t scream for once; sleeping on a proper mattress again felt like your spine had been re-aligned by god herself.

you stretched your good leg and reached over instinctively, fingers brushing the empty side of the bed, but sophia was gone.

the house was quiet, but faint music floated in from the living area. you sat up slowly, dragging the blanket with you as you reached for your jumper.

fleetwood mac: landslide - the ache that bloomed in your chest was slow and familiar.

you limped out and paused at the doorway.

there she was: sophia, hair tied in a messy bun, wearing one of her old pyjamas and moving about the kitchen with casual ease. she had her back turned to you as she poured pancake batter into a pan and she was humming to the song.

it wasn’t loud, just under her breath but enough for the notes to catch and twist something deep in you. her hips swayed slightly as she moved, bare feet padding gently on the tiles.

for a second, she looked like your wife again; your throat caught.

but you smothered the thought hard. shoved it down into that box inside you and killed the thought before it could grow sharp edges.

“morning,” you greeted softly, so you didn’t startle her.

she turned with a smile, spatula in one hand. “morning, you slept in.”

“it was nice,” you smiled, rubbing the back of your neck shyly. “first time in a while my back didn’t feel like it was in a death grip.”

she chuckled at that, flipping the pancake like muscle memory. “that’s really good, do you want some pancakes?”

“of course, can i help?”

“hmm…could you make me a strawberry matcha? like with the crushed jam we got from the market?”

you nodded. “still your favourite?”

she shrugged, playful. “i guess?”

huh, guess the body didn’t forget even if the mind does, you thought, moving to the fridge to grab the oat milk, matcha powder and strawberries. you used to make this exact drink for her every sunday morning.

“you probably already know this, soph,” you began as you tapped the spoon against glass. “but matchas are actually better for you than coffee…slow-release caffeine, so no crashes.”

she looked at you, grinning. “i actually didn’t know that.”

you chuckled as you whisked the green tea on the bowl. “you told me that fun fact, actually…and pretended you’ve always known it.”

she gasped, mock-offended. “no, i did not.”

“you did. i remember because you said it like you discovered it yourself but i saw the youtube video open on your laptop two minutes later.”

sophia narrowed her eyes. “that’s slander!”

“not when it’s the truth.”

she snorted. “god, i must’ve been so annoying.”

you handed her the drink. “no, you were…annoyingly endearing.”

she laughed. “yeah, okay, that sounds more accurate.”

she plated breakfast: pancakes, blueberries, whipped cream and a few slices of prosciutto (you didn’t know why she had it out) and carried everything to the small round table you used as a dining space. she sat across from you, curled up in the chair like it belonged to her…like she belonged here.

“so,” she began. “how are the physio sessions going?”

you winced slightly as you eased into your seat. “he’s not thrilled that i planned to catch the bus to a gallery meeting across town. he knew it’d be too much walking — but he said we’re still making real progress. muscle strength’s coming back, very fucking slowly.”

“i’m happy for you,” she said, genuinely. “you’re tougher than anyone i know.”

and that did something to your chest. you didn’t know what, only that it felt hopeful. you picked at your blueberries, letting yourself sit in the comfort of this quiet rhythm, the way she kept glancing up like she wanted to say more.

your phone buzzed against the counter, you ignored it.

“what’ve you been up to lately?” you asked.

she sighed, nudging her plate aside. “dad’s helping me with law school reapplications. since both my parents are alumni, it’s kind of a walk-in thing…interviews are a formality.”

you hummed, ignoring that funny feeling forming in your chest. “when do you start?”

before the sting could settle, your phone buzzed again. and again. then again. the sound echoed through the small kitchen like a warning.

her eyes flicked toward it. “you should probably get that first.”

you stood slowly, a familiar unease crawling up your spine as you checked the screen. giselle. fuck. that could only mean one thing.

you hesitated, then answered.

“what the fuck,” giselle snapped, her voice immediately cutting through. “come here now. we’re so fucked off with these workloads.”

you flinched, trying to keep your voice even. “giselle, i —”

“don’t giselle me. yunjin is dead. we don’t even have to bury her cause she’s six feet under invoices!”

“i’m sorry, i’ll come by today. i promise. just…breathe, okay? we’ll sort it out,” you bit your lip, putting a hand on your hip.”

there was a pause, a sigh. “fine, but hurry. we’re dying out here.”

when you hung up, you turned back to sophia, suddenly aware of how far away she felt again.

“i have to go to the studio,” you mumbled. “yunjin and giselle are crashing out. and when those two crash, something’s seriously wrong.”

she only nodded, offering a vague apology. “i’m sorry about that.”

you smiled, half-hearted. “it’s okay, i know music’s not your priority right now.”

you turned on the record player, choosing frank ocean. his voice swelled in the quiet, gentle and full of longing. one of her old favourites; the type she used to play when she needed grounding. or on sunday afternoons, curled into you with wine and her legs tangled through yours.

you watched her rinse plates at the sink, and it hurt.

the fact that she didn’t remember how much this album meant to her…how much you did.

you thought, maybe you had to stop looking so desperate. maybe you had to stop hoping she would remember the way she used to hold you, kiss you behind your ear, leave little notes in your coat pocket.

maybe you had to let her love you again in her own time — if she ever would. you could still win her back without pressure.

but then, her voice cut through the haze. “vincent reached out to me the other day.”

the words were shattered that hope straighaway, dropping the fork into the sink as you looked over slowly. “vincent…like your ex-boyfriend?”

she nodded, casually. “yeah, i remember wanting to break up with him, at least…so it’s nothing.”

you didn’t breathe, hands gripping the edge of the counter. you felt her words crawl beneath your skin, cold and mean in a way she didn’t intend.

so it was true, in her head, they really never ended.

to you, it felt like she had just admitted she was still in it, tangled up in a version of herself that didn’t yet know you.

“what —“ you paused, closing your eyes as you tried to compose yourself. “what did he want?”

“said he saw me on my dad’s facebook and just wanted to say hi. he’s in town again, wanted to catch up.”

you ran a hand through your hair, lips pressed together. “right.”

that was all you could do, you didn’t trust yourself to say anything and couldn’t dictate her either, but something inside you had curled up.

the thought slithered in before you could stop it: she doesn’t even remember that she already left him, that she chose you.

the song changed. frank ocean crooned something low and aching: white ferrari.

you moved slowly through the apartment, eyes on everything but her - hummed a little as you packed your things, hands shaking slightly when you folded your notes and picked up your scarf. the door to the bedroom was wide open and sophia could see you, entirely, but you pretended not to notice.

it was only then that the conversation caught up with you: law school. the words echoed, uninvited, curling around your ribs like ivy.

you felt a familiar twist in your chest, the one that came with holding too much. and yet all you could think about was how sophia was stitching together a life you weren’t part of.

it was that it was his world, the version of her that had been built to please her parents. it was the version she ran from when she first met you, when she curled into your tiny apartment and kissed you like she was saving herself in real time.

it was the version of her she left behind, once upon a time, because she said: “i just want to live for myself for once.”

but now she was going back.

and you, well, you were still here, holding on to something you thought you both agreed was worth it.

you reached for your shoes, grimacing slightly as you bent forward to slip them on, your back spasming with the effort.

and then:

“wait,” sophia said softly, coming up behind you. “i’ll do it.”

she knelt carefully and helped guide your foot into the shoe. her touch was gentle and practised. her face tilted upward when she looked at you, and for a moment, the tension softened.

“do you have your phone?” she asked.

you nodded.

“will you be back before dinner?”

“probably.”

“will you be safe?”

you nodded again, tried to smile but your chest was tight and you could barely meet her eyes.

“thanks for helping me with the shoes, soph.”

as you stood, she reached for your cane before you could, extending it toward you like it weighed nothing and it hadn’t become a part of you lately.

your fingers brushed as you took it.

“come back in one piece,” she pleaded, so soft it was almost shy. and then, more firmly. “promise me?”

you stared at her.

for a moment, you forgot how to breathe because it sounded like her. like her. your sophia. the one who used to write notes on napkins, who once stood outside your apartment with cupcakes and an umbrella after your worst gallery rejection.

she used to ask you to come home safe all the time. every time you so much as left for the market.

and here she was, asking again.

you swallowed, baffled. “i promise.”

you didn’t ask why it mattered, didn’t really want to risk pushing her back into the careful coldness she had since the hospital. instead, you opened the door and stepped into the morning air, letting it hit your skin. the way she looked at you then clung to your ribs, tight and trembling.

but all you could think about was how quiet her voice had been when she said vincent; how easily she said his name. and how your own felt like a wound in her mouth.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

part 2 —

[cheriecoke]

˚₊‧꒰ა DISTRACTION ! — sanji

contents. fluff, established relationship, reading/reader likes books, smoking (duh), pet names, self-ship coded so maybe ooc but canon to me lol, i wrote this a year ago. so. i suppose i’ll let you have it now. ~800 words.

"i can't read when you're staring at me like that."

your eyes were glued onto the page, as you tried to digest the words that continued to be nothing but a blur. despite the plot becoming a mystery to you, you continued on, hoping to keep up the pretense of focus.

you'd just go back a few pages in the morning.

"you seem to be reading just fine," sanji said cheekily, smiling through his words and the cigarette burning orange between his lips.

he rested on his side, chest propped up as he watched you, lazily. a cloud of smoke rose through the air, hovering over you before drifting out the cracked window.

though you hated the way it lingered, sometimes, it was comforting, how it smelled like sanji.

you rolled your eyes, but your mock indignation was useless, once you saw the way he was looking at you. it was how he always looked at you — like you were more beautiful than a string of starlights in the galaxy.

with heated cheeks, you shoved his face away when he came in for a kiss, trying not to smile.

"no," you mumbled, pinching a page between your fingers, your interest in the book, unfortunately, lost. "i'm distracted. you're distracting me."

the candle flickered, making it difficult to read, anyway. it was late. midnight dampened the day with its raven hues, and you were wrapped in the bright warmth of another, heart pumping blood through your chest with sickening affection.

as if the world was telling you to put the book down.

sanji laughed, resting his chin on your knees as he stared up at you, the blue of his irises more to you than the summer skies. the lean muscles of his biceps flexed as he leaned over to dump the dwindling cigarette into the ash tray. “you’re distracting. how can i look at anything else when you’re in the room, chérie?”

"is that so?" you hummed softly, batting your eyelashes at him innocently. "maybe you should leave the room, then."

sanji pouted, his palm splayed across your thigh, tracing startlingly soft patterns across your skin. "wouldn't you get lonely?"

"nope," you said, "you're a nuisance."

but you smiled through the words, no real heat behind them. instead, you found yourself leaning over to kiss him, your fingers threading their way easily through his hair.

“a nuisance, huh?” sanji whispered against your mouth, still tasting starkly of the wine he’d cracked open at dinner. his stubble rubbed your skin as he traced kisses across your cheeks, mouth still parted into a grin. “maybe i’ll keep bothering you if this is the result.”

you laughed, and it was almost gut-wrenching, just how happy you sounded. it had always seemed a faraway, incapable dream, to be in love like this. sometimes, you were still almost certain you'd wake up from it one day.

sanji, as if reading your thoughts, curled up beside you, pressing a kiss to your temple before nestling into your side. he dropped his chin to your shoulder, nose brushing against your cheek.

“will you read to me?” he asked, eyes so gentle, like he couldn't bear to look away from you.

your chest hiccuped, and you softened, melting, just a little more. it wasn't easy for you, like it was for sanji, to voice the endless adoration your felt for him, but you tried. in your own little way, you did everything you could to show him his affections were returned.

“you don’t even know what it’s about,” you said, exhaling a short laugh as you squeezed his hand, hoping it communicated every ounce of love you felt for him.

he smiled against your cheek and kissed you again, understanding.

“do you want to tell me?” sanji asked, weaving your fingers together, gently caressing your knuckles. there was a sleepy haze to his eyes, and he settled further into the bed. “i’ll listen.”

you swallowed, choking back your own emotion.

the hopefulness in his voice had you nearly tossing the book aside to kiss him hard, hold him close until you both fell asleep, lulled by the sounds of the sea and the wind against the sails.

it was rare to have such an attuned ear, and even rarer for someone to remember. sanji seemed to pick up on all the little things you'd thought no one would ever notice, all the words you never spoke.

it still caught you off guard, when he brought up something you’d said weeks again, repeated it back to you like it would have been a sin to think such a simple fact was meaningless. when he listened to you talk about the books he never would have cared about otherwise, and recalled details even you had forgotten.

you loved him so much for it.

you flicked the book back open again, letting your fingers trace the pages you'd already read. “sure, sanji,” you said, exhaling softly. “i’ll tell you about it.”

thanks for reading, mwah <3

[hanan-alsfamily]

Read it once in your life, and never regret it. ✋✅

Do you feel bored of the posts asking for help from Gaza? You’re right, but imagine our situation as we live this war day after day for 13 months. Do you think we’re tired too?!!

Asking for help is not easy; it’s very embarrassing, especially for a family that used to live a decent life. My husband and I completed our university education with distinction, worked in respectable jobs, and were used to helping others, not asking for help. But the war has turned our lives into a nightmare; we lost our home, our sources of income, and even our ability to provide the simplest of needs.

I'm Hanan. For the past 13 months, we have been struggling to get healthy food and medicine for my child, whose weak body was attacked by infection, and for my elderly mother-in-law, who fell into a coma for several days and almost lost her life due to anemia caused by our inability to provide healthy food, as prices have risen more than 10 times. Now, we have run out of everything. While you are reading my message, my family and I are trying to survive amidst all kinds of suffering.

What was once a beautiful dream and reality has now become a nightmare. Starvation is one thing, but starving, freezing, and being forced to flee in the middle of the night when tanks suddenly arrive in your area, running for your life and your family’s life under fire, leaving behind everything you built over the years, and returning after 5 months of suffering in displacement and tents to find that your home, where you lived your happiest moments, is nothing but rubble, is something completely different! 💔😓

Can you feel my broken heart now? Can you imagine what I’m going through at this moment? Everything I am living now cannot be described with words, and every moment here is filled with pain and fear. We desperately need your help, as we live in hope of escaping Gaza to save our lives and live safely away from the explosions.

You might feel powerless to stop this genocide, but you can certainly save my family. We appeal to your compassionate hearts to help us escape this catastrophe, which the human mind cannot even fathom.

Please share our campaign with your family and friends. This will help us reach those who can help us directly. Be the reason to bring hope back to our hearts ♥️✨

$14,100 USD raised of $30,000goal

Or donate via PayPal

I will be honored to follow me on Instagram

Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #152 ) ✅

Vetted by 90ـghost Click here ✅

Updated on 3/12

Dear Friends, 🌷

I know you share my story out of love and humanity, and I am truly grateful for that. 🙏💚

The painful truth is sharing alone does not feed the hungry or provide medicine for the sick.💔

Cost of a bag of flour is $300 which is the main source of food for my family and is needed weekly just to make bread. We live in a tent my child trembles from hunger and cold, and all I can do is pray. 😥

Please, don’t just watch or share. Even a small donation could be a lifeline for a hungry child or a suffering patient. 🙏

Don’t close your eyes to our suffering. We are calling upon your humanity.

The last donation 20 hours ago!! 😓

Thanks to your generous donations, we were able to buy some essential necessities that we couldn't do without, despite their high cost. A heartfelt thank you to everyone who contributed to feeding my child, even with a piece of bread 🙏💚. Your generosity gives us hope in facing these indescribable catastrophic circumstances 💔.

Our hope for survival comes from the generosity of your hearts. Your donations are the lifeline that keeps my family standing strong, They are our only source of income. Every contribution brings us closer to securing food and medicine for my family. Please, don’t leave us alone; your compassion is the light that dispels this darkness. ✨🫂

[nekonaps0]

Excuse me… SIR?! Pt2

✦part1 part3

✦ characters: second years

✦ gn!reader

✦the boys suddenly cracked a naughty, suggestive joke

✦you guys really loved the “You are NAUGHTY!!” Series so what if we switch it up and the boys gonna surprise you this time!?👀

Riddle Rosehearts

It was an innocent study session. He was helping you prep for exams, sitting primly across from you. Then, as you leaned down to reach your notes, he blushed immediately and looked away one hand covering his flushed cheeks:

“It’s awfully hard to focus on spellwork with you my rose.”

You froze and raised an eyebrow confused.

“What?”

He didn’t even look up from his textbook he hid behind the pages.

“J-Just pretend I didn’t say anything…”

Your face is burning when you finally realize what’s happening, and now you’re the one who can’t focus. Now both of you sit next to each other like two tomatoes

And somewhere Cater definitely taking pictures of this beautiful scene.

Ruggie Bucchi

You were helping him with chores, teasing him about always working so hard. He tossed a towel at you and replied with a wicked grin:

“Well, I’d work even harder if I got a reward. Maybe something sweet. Like… you wearing nothin’ but an apron and that smile.”

Dead.

You choked. Dropped the soap.

“Ruggie! You can’t just say stuff like that!! Anyone can walk in here!”

He howled laughing.

“Aw, look atcha~! You’re so easy to fluster, it’s adorable.”

You tried to slap his arm, he dodged, still laughing, tail flicking behind him in amusement.

“Careful, babe. Keep lookin’ that cute and I might just cash in that apron fantasy.”

He won’t stop bringing it up. You’ve created a monster.

Azul Ashengrotto

You were helping organize some contracts when Azul adjusted his glasses and looked over at you, completely composed:

“You know… most deals require a bit of negotiation. But for you? I’d gladly trade everything, my dignity, my control… even my clothes.”

You fumbled the papers.

“H-Huh?! Azul?!”

He smiled. Smooth. Polished.

“Unless… you're in the mood for more intimate arrangements?”

You stared at him like he’d grown gills.

“A-Azul!! WHO THOUGHT YOU THESE?!?”

He was eating your embarrassment up. But now he concerned that maybe he made you uncomfortable

“Im sorry my pearl, the twins suggested that you may like this”

…they were not wrong… but please let him to know that he didn’t mess it up!!

Jade Leech

You were fixing a terrarium together. Your fingers brushed his, and Jade leaned in just a little too close.

“My, how delicate your touch is. I wonder… would you be just as gentle if you were holding something far more sensitive?”

You blinked. Jaw dropped.

“J-Jade?!”

He tilted his head, innocent smile on his face.

“Ah? Have I upset you? You seem... flushed.”

You tried to stammer out a response. He only chuckled and returned to the moss with a calm smile.

“I do so enjoy your expressions. Perhaps I’ll provoke a few more before the evening ends.”

You will not survive this eel.

Floyd Leech

You were relaxing and cuddling together in the bed when you leaned over to grab your phone. He immediately laughed and threw his arm around you:

“Ooooh~ Are you trying to seduce me, Shrimpy? With that pose? ‘Cause it’s working~”

You looked at him like he’d lost it.

“I was just getting my phone—!”

“Uh-huh. Suuuuure you were~ Next time just crawl into my lap and make it obvious~”

You squeaked. He howled with laughter, poking your cheek with a teasing grin.

“Hehe~ Look at you goin’ all pink! You’re sooo cuuute when you’re flustered~ Maybe I’ll tease you more~”

You are now his favorite game.

Jamil Viper

It was late. The two of you were alone in the Scarabia lounge. You yawned, stretching your arms above your head. He glanced over. Cool, calm… and then:

“Careful stretching like that in front of me. I might think you're offering something.”

You froze. Eyes wide.

“W-What did you just say?!”

He raised an eyebrow, acting indifferent… but that smirk tugging at his lips? He knows what he just did.

“Mm? Just speaking aloud. Don’t read too much into it.”

Liar.

You’re dying. He’s thriving.

“...Unless you want me to.”

Kalim Al-Asim

You were resting against him, just talking about your day, when Kalim suddenly laughed and said:

“Y’know, I think I love you more than all the gold in the vaults. Actually… if you wore gold and nothing else, I’d love you even more~!”

You choked.

“K-Kalim?!”

He blinked, confused, then laughed again.

“What? I meant it! You’d look so good with just some glitter and maybe one of those sheer scarves, like in the dances! But you look stunning in everything.”

You were a blushing mess. He thought it was cute.

“Awww, you all red, you look adorable! Do you need anything? Water or fruits?”

You regret everything. And the worst part that he doesn’t even realize what kind of effects he has on you.

Silver

You were trying to wake him from a nap. He stirred, eyes half-lidded, and murmured:

“Mm… If you’re going to climb on top of me like that, love… at least buy me dinner first…”

You immediately yelped and flailed away.

“Excuse me?!”

He blinked. Realized what he said. Instantly red.

“W-Wait—! That wasn’t—I didn’t—!!”

Now you’re blushing, and he’s flustered, and both of you are too awkward to look each other in the eye for the next twenty minutes.

Secretly? He’s proud he made you blush.

..............................................................................................................................

[wanders-in-wonderland]

Match My Freak

She’s been my roommate for over three months now and I’m nearing the end of my patience. Everything about her drives me insane, from the smell of her shampoo permeating through the bathroom after her long showers to the way she prances around the living room and kitchen wearing her tiny little pajamas. I’ve learned every single detail about her since she moved in and every day I fall in love with her a little more but she has no idea. She’s been etched into every atom of my soul and I need her to be mine.

She’d moved into my place after responding to an ad I’d placed about needing a roommate. She told me she’d broken up with her boyfriend and moved out of their shared apartment so it never felt right for me to make a move. I didn’t want her to treat me like a rebound, not when I have every intention of making her mine forever. But, last week, she’d put on a fucking red dress and heels fully done up to go on a date with some loser. I almost lost my mind when I saw her on her way out the door. How dare she go spend time with some loser guy when I’m right here for her?

That night, while I waited up all night for her to come home (she didn’t and I almost left the house to hunt her down and drag her back here), I made up my mind. If she can’t see what’s right in front of her, I’ll make her see. I’ll force her to. Plus, she deserves a punishment for whoring herself out to some random guy and I plan to teach her a hard-earned lesson.

It wasn’t very difficult to get my hands on what I needed, the internet really does provide all. A few searches, a couple hundred dollars, and a week’s wait for expedited shipping later, I was equipped with a fast-acting roofie and a powerful aphrodisiac, both of which dissolved nicely and undetectably into any beverage of choice.

It’s Friday night now and I’m jittery with a combination of nerves, excitement, and a feeling of finality. I’m finally getting a taste of what I want. She’ll wake up the next morning, maybe a little sore and tired but none the wiser of the events of tonight. And once I clear my head a little, I’ll figure out a long term plan to make her mine forever.

Really, I’m doing her a favor. I could be rough, be violent, hold a knife to her throat and force her to take my cock. Make her cry and scream and traumatize her to really punish her. But no, I’m too good to her to put her through that. Instead, she gets the easy way out, the nice drugs that make her pliant, relaxed, and needy. She gets to wake up the next morning and still feel safe around me, because she is. And eventually, she’ll learn to love me.

She’s curled up on the couch when I come out of my room, dressed in another one of her tiny pajama sets, her eyes leaving her Kindle to meet mine before she shoots me a beautiful smile. “Hey you! Where’ve you been? I feel like I’ve hardly seen you all week?”

I flash her a grin, “Been busy with work, I took on a new project and there’s been a lot of prep work involved.”

She nods, “Well I hope it goes well, I can’t imagine it not, you seem really good at your job!” If only she knew.

I smile at her before heading into the kitchen, calling out behind me, “You want something to drink?”

“Yes please! Can you grab me a can of seltzer, please?”

My smile widens when I hear that and I grab a can of her favorite flavor from the fridge before cracking it open and pouring the fizzy water into a cup. Both drugs dissolve immediately into the drink and I smirk before grabbing a can for myself.

I step back into the living room and settle onto the other side of the couch, handing over her drink. She smiles in thanks before taking a long sip. I hide my smile behind a drink of my own.

“Whatcha up to?” I ask, nodding towards her Kindle.

She shrugs, tossing her hair over her shoulder, the smell of her shampoo wafting into my face. My fist clenches. Fuck, she smells so good. “I’m just reading, nothing exciting,” she says. “What about you? Any fun plans tonight?”

I can’t hold back the smirk that lights up my face, “Nah, just spending a night in.”

She takes another sip of her drink and blinks her eyes tiredly. “Mhm, that sounds nice, getting to bed early sounds like a good plan.”

I nod, eyes fixed on her drink as she takes another swallow. My heart is beating hard in my chest as I try to restrain myself from showing my dark excitement for where tonight is headed.

I watch as she sets her Kindle down on the coffee table and rubs her eyes. “I think I’m going to head into my room…” her voice is softer now, slower as the drugs start to take effect. I nod at her drink, “You should finish that before you head in.”

She nods a little and drinks the last little bit, setting her cup onto the table and moving to stand. She barely manages to get herself up before she stumbles and her knees buckle, her body folding like a puppet.

I’m ready for her and I pull her into my lap, making sure she doesn’t hurt herself.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong, you okay?” My voice betrays my excitement but she’s too far gone to notice. Her body melts into mine as she lets out a soft whine, “Mm really tired… and everything feels so hot…”

She leans her head against my shoulder and I let out a groan, the feeling of her soft body in my lap is almost enough to make me lose control. I laugh incredulously, “Fuck, those drugs really do work fast.”

I tap her cheek gently and look into her dazed eyes, “Hey. Hey, focus on me. You still with me?”

Her eyes blink slowly at me but she’s too delirious to respond. I’m so fucking hard now, the reality of what’s going to happen fully hitting me. I cup her cheek and lean my forehead against hers, groaning with desire.

“You’re all mine now, huh? Drugged out of your mind and completely vulnerable. You look so pretty like this, not a single thought in that gorgeous head of yours, isn’t that right?”

My lips meet hers and I moan into her mouth as I claim our first kiss. First of many. She’s soft and pliant underneath me, her lips clumsily moving against mine. I run my hand through her soft hair as my lips work feverishly against hers. My breath comes out in harsh pants when I finally pull away, the taste of her lips making my head spin.

“Fuck, you’re so perfect like this. So obedient, so good for me. Not like last week, when you whored yourself out to some fucking guy, huh?” My voice turns mean as I recall the red hot fury that governed my every thought the night she went out. My hands get rougher as I move her around in my lap, pulling her back to my chest and spreading her legs so they splayed open for me.

“If you’d just been a good girl, tonight wouldn’t have needed to happen like this. But no, you betrayed me. You went and fucked some other guy and now I need to cleanse him from you before I can make you mine. Because that’s what you are, my perfect girl, isn’t that right?”

Her eyes have fluttered shut now but it doesn’t matter to me because when my hand trails down her stomach to her clothed pussy, I can feel the burning heat. The aphrodisiac’s doing its job too.

I chuckle and grab a fistful of her pathetically tiny shorts and jerk them hard off her legs. She lets out a soft whimper from my harsh treatment and I coo softly at her, “It’s okay, darling, this is what you want.”

My fingers press against her bare cunt and she’s soaked.

“Fuck, you’re fucking dripping. Look at you, drugged out of your mind and this pretty pussy is weeping for me.”

I run my fingers gently across her pulsing clit and her legs twitch, a soft whine escaping from her lips. I start to rub her sensitive little clit in circles, spreading her own wetness all over her pussy.

“So messy for me, huh? I know you like this, I can feel your cunt pulsing. Only I can make you feel this way, you’ll learn that soon.”

She’s letting out little desperate whimpers and a glance at her face tells me she’s so out of it that I have nothing to worry about. I slide a finger into her pussy and groan at how tight she is.

“Fuck, your pretty pussy feels so good wrapped around my finger. God, you’re so nasty, getting all drugged up and turning into a little mindless toy. You’re leaking all over my lap and I’ve barely done anything. What a filthy little whore.”

I thrust my fingers into her and curl them upwards, letting my thumb keep rubbing her little clit. I almost wish she were more lucid so she could hear all the dirty things I’m telling her.

“Fuck, I can tell you’re close, huh? You gonna cum for me, all drugged up and making a mess all over my fingers?”

Her soft whimpers have turned into louder moans and I can tell by her little hip thrusts that she’s close. My fingers don’t stop and I feel her shudder in my arms, a soft mewling cry erupting from her as she cums for me. I groan softly and work her through her orgasm, my fingers rubbing mercilessly against her little clit as she trembles.

“That’s it, baby, feel good for me. I’m the only one who can make you feel like this, isn’t that right? You’re fucking mine.” I pull my fingers away from her and taste her wetness, moaning at how good she is.

I scoop her up and carry her into my room, laying her gently down on my bed, her head lolling in her drugged state of semi-consciousness. I brush her hair away from her pretty face, admiring her.

“I love you, pretty girl, do you know that? I love you so much and I’ll prove that to you. You won’t remember any of this tomorrow, but I promise you’ll never doubt how much I love you for the rest of our lives.”

I crawl over her, pining her body down onto the bed with my own, my hands running everywhere over her body. I trail soft kisses over her skin, licking gently down her neck and into the valley of her pretty, pretty tits. Her nipples are so hard and a gentle flick from my fingers makes her let out a soft, sleepy whine.

I draw a hard peak into my mouth and let my tongue play with her sensitive flesh, scrapping my teeth gently against her. Another whimper from her. I want nothing more than to leave love bites and marks all over her skin, proving that she belongs to me for anyone to see but I control myself. Leaving marks would mean leaving evidence and I can’t have that, not yet.

I spend another few moments gently playing with her sensitive tits before I get too impatient to wait any longer. My cock has been straining against my sweatpants since I saw her take her first sip of her drugged drink and I can’t hold back anymore. I make quick work of my own clothes before I finally press my naked body against hers, every single bit of her form fitting perfectly against mine, like we were made for each other.

Her pretty cunt is still weeping, making a mess all over my bed. “I wish you were awake for this so you could see how fucking perfect we are for each other. But it’s okay, your mind might not remember this but your body well. Your body will know it belongs to me.” I groan as I swipe a finger through her wetness, making sure to nudge her little clit, savoring the hitch in her breathing that follows.

I smirk as I grip my throbbing cock and run the head gently across her dripping folds, moaning at the feel of her. “Fuck, such a desperate little cunt for me. You like this, huh? Like the feeling of my cock rubbing your cunt? Fuck, you’re so good like this.”

I slowly start to press into her, the tight, wet heat of her pussy making my head spin from pleasure. She lets out tiny little moans as I bottom out inside of her, her cunt clenching around me so tightly I would’ve thought she was awake if I didn’t know better.

“Fuck, that’s right. I own this pussy, this tight fucking cunt gripping my cock. Fuck, you’re all mine.” I’m panting as I start to thrust into her, every single movement making her limp body jerk.

She’s so good for me, so obedient as I take exactly what I want from her. Her eyes are still shut but the sounds she makes while unconscious are almost enough to make me worry she’s actually awake. I thrust deep and she lets out a delicious little whine.

“Fuck yes, you’re so sensitive like this, huh? The drugs making you so needy for me and my cock. Is that little clitty feeling neglected?” I groan as my fingers rub harshly against her clit, the movement making her cunt tighten even further around me. It doesn’t take long before I hear her little whimpers escalate and her hips jerk. Her soft, relaxed body is driving me insane and I start to loose my rhythm as she milks me.

“You getting close again, love? All drugged up, stuffed full, and about to cum again for me? There you go, you like that huh? I know you can’t answer me but your body tells me enough.” I rub her clit faster and shudder when I feel her orgasm hit her hard. Her pussy milks me hard and it pushes me over the edge.

I fuck her through both our orgasms and I collapse onto the bed next to her, taking care not to crush her underneath me. My heart is pounding as the pleasure ebbs out of my body, leaving me satiated and content. I pull her into my arms and press my lips to her temple, my eyes taking in her flushed face, closed eyes, and trembling body. My pretty girl is all tired out from tonight’s activities.

“You did so good, love. I’m so fucking good to you, aren’t I? I made sure you’d enjoy this, made sure you would cum over and over again. I treated you so well, I didn’t leave a single bruise on your soft skin. You should be so grateful, baby. I made sure to be gentle, to be so good to you. Made sure to buy you the good drugs so you wake up tomorrow nice and easy. You won’t remember any of this but it’s okay. I’ll remember and I’ll know that our first time together was perfect.”

I press my lips to her skin again and pull her tighter into my grasp, my own eyes closing as I drift off to sleep with her.

I wake up several hours later, her body still tucked into my own, her soft breaths tickling my skin. I take in the vision of her curled up in my bed and it almost makes me want to fuck her again. But I can’t, her drugs are going to wear off soon and I need to make sure she opens her eyes in her own room, dressed in her pajamas so she has no clue what happened.

I groan softly as I extricate myself from the bed, my body already missing hers. It’s easy enough to redress her in her pajamas and carry her into her room. I tuck her into bed and press a soft kiss to her forehead before heading out of her bedroom.

I’m too restless to go back to sleep so I throw on a pair of sweatpants and go to sit out in the living room, replaying the events of last night in my head. As time passes, there’s a sinking feeling of dread building in my stomach. What if the drugs didn’t work as expected and she wakes up remembering everything that happened? If that happens, everything falls apart. I’m wracking my brain to come up with a contingency plan and wanting to punch myself for not thinking this through earlier when I hear the door of her bedroom open.

My eyes immediately find hers and part of my relaxes when I see no anger, fear, or revulsion in her face. Just sleepiness and a look of contentment.

“Hey, how’d you sleep?” My voice sounds thick and croaky and I cough awkwardly to cover it up. She smiles at me and walks in my direction.

“Good, really good.”

She comes to the couch and settles next to me. Closer than normal. A lot closer, she’s basically pressed right up against me. I blink at her.

She smirks and her hand comes to rest against my chest. My bare chest. My breath stutters and I look at her with wide eyes. “What- what are you doing?”

She giggles, “What? You spend all night doing unspeakable things to me and now a little hand on your chest has you freaking out?”

My mind short-circuits as my stomach drops. “What?” My voice comes out in a croak and panic seizes my entire body.

I hear her laugh again but everything feels like a haze. I watch, frozen, as she tucks herself against me and leans into my chest.

I clear my throat and stutter a little when I speak again, “What- what do you think happened last night?”

She smiles at me. “You mean before or after you drugged me?”

Fuck, I’m screwed. I fucked up. It’s over. My heart is pounding as I struggle to process what’s happening. “What?” If I had higher brain capacity right now, I’d be desperately coming up with some excuse but nothing comes to mind. She laughs again and cups my cheek in one hand.

“Stop freaking out, you didn’t do anything that I didn’t already want,” her voice punches through the confusion in my head and I stare at her.

“What?” That seems to be my favorite word right now.

She pats my cheek. “Okay, fine, I’ll explain, I’m done messing with you. I’ve been into you since I moved in. And I know you’ve been into me too. It’s really hard to miss all the signs, you’re always doing little things for me, buying me the snacks I like, making excuses to spend weekends together, staring at me when you think I’m not paying attention.”

I blush a little at that, I guess I haven’t been subtle.

“I kept waiting for you to do something about it but you never did. So I ‘went on a date’ last week to try to provoke something out of you.” I blink dumbly at her air quotes.

“What? It wasn’t a real date?” There’s so much for my brain to work through right now and I can’t focus properly because she keeps stroking my chest.

She laughs and rolls her eyes good-naturedly, “No, it wasn’t a real date, I got dressed up and went to a friend’s place to stay over to make you jealous so you’d do something. And you did. Only I thought you’d ask me out finally, not concoct this insane plan of yours.”

I blink slowly at her, she continues, seeing that I’m incapable of stringing together coherent words right now.

“You left your laptop out last week and I saw the shipping confirmation of the drugs in your email. It wasn’t hard to put together what you intended to do. I didn’t think you had it in you,” she teased. I’m still dumbfounded.

“It wasn’t that hard to get to the packages before you when they came in,” she shrugs. “The roofie I swapped for a sugar pill but I kept the aphrodisiac intact because it sounded fun. And when you drugged me last night, I just pretended that the roofie worked. Honestly, it was so much harder than I thought it would be to stay still through everything but so fucking worth it.” She smiles at me before kissing my cheek.

My mind is racing as I put all the pieces together and all the panic and fear from earlier is replaced with awe. I let out a choked, incredulous laugh. “What the fuck? You’re fucking crazy,” my voice is reverential as I grab her and pull her onto my lap. My lips find hers and I feel her melt into the kiss, every single fiber of my being relaxing with her.

I pull away and look into her eyes, “I love you, you’re perfect.”

She smiles, “I love you too.” She winks at me, “I can match your freak.”

Note: Hi friends, I'm baaack! I'm so into the "crazy obsessed lover x willing recipient" dynamic so hope y'all enjoyed this one!

[adimilkys]

JJK men waking up horny at night

MDNI : 18+, smut, somnophilia, masturbation, p in v, degradation and much more

Contains : Gojo Satoru, Nanami Kento, Toji Fushigiro, Choso Kamo, Ryomen Sukuna (I was throwing up while writing his bitch ass 😾 I still love you Sukuna 😔)

small note : remember! Consent is everything, so let’s say the reader and character made an agreement on not minding if they would wake up to head etc. Not proof read

Gojo Satoru

He often got wet dreams, either waking up to morning wood or- waking up in the middle of the night.

And that’s what happened this time, it’s 3 am and Satoru let out a groan as his eyes opened, his whole face was red, it was so goddamn hot in here. He looked over at your peaceful face, wrapped his hands around you and pulled you closer.

He breathed in your smell, leaving kisses all around your neck and shoulders, slightly grinding his hard cock against your ass.

“Fuck… not letting me rest in my sleep either.” A quiet whine left his mouth, one hand going under his shirt that you were wearing, while the other one pulled your panties to the side, you usually only slept in his shirt and your panties, so he had easy access to your body.

“Baby… I need you…” two of his fingers entered you, he started moving them slowly and scissoring them, you let out a soft moan and clenched your thighs together- but still asleep.

He sped up his pace, taking his own cock into his hand and started stroking it. You let out a louder moan, feeling something tighten inside your stomach.

Suddenly your eyes shot open as your hand instantly went to grab his wrist. “T-Toru!” You cried as he added a third finger.

“M’sorry baby… I was so horny…” he was also close, groaning as he was stroking his cock faster.

“C-Can I put it in? Please please I need to feel you…” You nodded, not able to say anything, the only sounds leaving your mouth being moans of his name.

His fingers left your hole, you whined at the lost sensation but it was immediately replaced with his cock, you gasped at the feeling of being so full. He had your back against his chest. His arms were wrapped around your thighs, holding them up so it was easier for him to slide in.

His thrusts were slow and deep, hitting your cervix every time.

“Toru!! Ah- c-close!” You moaned, your nails were digging into his shoulder as he fastened his pace.

“S-shit… me too baby, me too.” One of his hands left your thigh, letting it lay on the bed, it instead went to your clit.

Your eyes rolled back and your back arched as you came, he wasn’t far behind, a few more strokes and he buried himself deep inside and shot his loads of cum.

As he pulled out you both were a panting mess. He moved your panties back, his hands wrapping around your waist and head hid in your shoulder.

“I’ll clean you up in the morning…”

Nanami Kento

It was rare for him to get wet dreams, it basically never happened, until this night.

He was rock hard and itching to touch you but he didn’t want to wake you up. You came back from work really late and exhausted, it was a hard day for you.

He could just jerk off, but he wanted you so bad. He got onto his knees, making you lay on your back as he pushed your legs apart, slowly pulling your panties off, making sure you won’t wake up.

He grabbed his cock in his hand and started stroking it, imagining it was your hand right now. You were so cute asleep, his beautiful wife.

You probably would tease him for days if you found out what he was doing, he just wanted to quickly get off to your body and go back to sleep.

He leaned down, kissing all over your exposed cleavage and neck, leaving small marks with every kiss, you’ll probably wake up and wonder where’d they come from.

He’ll explain himself tomorrow, right now it wasn’t important. What was is that he’s closer and closer, he started moving his hand faster, shooting out ropes all over your stomach that was exposed due to your shirt being ridden up, following with a muffled moan.

When he calmed down, he grabbed a tissue from the shelf and cleaned the cum off you. Putting your panties back down and laying down next to you, cuddling you.

Toji Fushigiro

He dreamt of you pregnant all over again, your round belly, filled with his child. He knows he has a breeding kink, so it’s obvious that he has gotten hard just from thinking about it.

Megumi wouldn’t mind a little brother, or maybe sister. Fuck, he wanted to get you pregnant again. He knows you’re on that shitty pill- he needs to flush them down the fucking toilet.

But right now all he needed was you. He grabbed your sleeping face and slammed his lips on yours, making you gasp, which allowed his tongue to enter.

“Mhmm- too-ji?” You muffled out barely awake, confused why in the middle of the night your man started furiously attacking your mouth.

“Fuck- feel what you did to me doll, got me all hard even in my sleep, yeah?” You let out another gasp, feeling his hard erection press against your clothed pussy.

Not letting you say anything he ripped your panties and immediately positioned his cock against your entrance.

“T-Toji! What if we wake up Megumi-”

“Then you have to quiet down all these pretty sounds, hm?” And just like that he slammed his dick inside of you. You quickly bit down on your hand, muffling your loud cry.

Not letting you adjust, he continued slamming in and out of you at a quick pace. Tears filled your eyes from the pleasure, trying the best to muffle your loud moans. Your other hand scratched at his back.

He grabbed the hand that was covering your mouth and replaced it with his lips, you could’ve sworn you felt his tongue in your throat, it was a messy kiss- tongues and teeth clashing together. Then he moved down to your neck, leaving marks all over it.

“A-Ah! S-Slo’down- T’muchhh!” Instead of actually slowing down, he only went faster if that was even possible at this point.

“I know you can take it, doll. You always do.” With every thrust you were closer, it was also hard to be quiet with this beast of a man slamming into you at an inhuman pace.

“Toji- close so close!”

“Come on, cum f’me” Your head threw back, not able to contain the loud cry that left your mouth, his pussy clamped down so hard on his cock that he came short after you, letting out a load groan as he filled you up.

“One more round?”

“Toji- wait, AH-”

Choso Kamo

You’re his first ever partner, he’s still not used to all those relationships things. So just imagine his confusion when he woke up at 2 am, his dick rock hard and his body hot.

He looked over to you, sleeping so beautifully, you were asleep and didn’t even do anything- what happened??

He couldn’t go back to sleep, he was too horny. You won’t be mad if he wakes you up, right?

He carefully shook you, calling out your name. After a minute you opened your eyes, mumbling out some incorrect words. When you saw it was Choso who was sitting up, looking all worried you immediately raised yourself up on your hands.

“Love…? What’s wrong?” You asked, his face got red immediately, embarrassed to say what happened.

“I- woke up and my dick was hard, I didn’t know what happened so I woke you up.” You stared at him and let out a soft laugh, sitting up next to him.

“Oh baby, you probably just had a wet dream.” He looked at you confused, still not understanding what that meant.

“A wet dream is when you dream about something sexual.” He let out a quiet ohh, you shook your head smiling.

“Want me to help?” He didn’t move for a while before slowly shaking his head, still embarrassed that he had to wake you up for that. You took his dick in your hands, slowly moving them up and down before lowering your head and leaving kisses all over his cock.

His hand buried itself in your hair as he let out a quiet moan, begging you to not tease him. You complied to his request, taking as much of him as you can in your mouth.

He slightly thrust his hips forward, making the head of his cock hit the back of your throat. “M-m’sorry… had too-“ he whined as your plump lips dragged on his dick, your mouth so warm. The rest that you couldn’t fit in was wrapped around your hand, not being forgotten.

The way you looked up at him, the way that your mouth moved- he was getting closer and you knew it, your movement got faster and he gripped your hair tightly, letting out a moan as he came inside your mouth.

You swallowed it all, giving his head a last kiss before raising yourself up and wiping the corners of your lips with your hand. “You did so good love” he blushed at the praise,

“I’ll repay you tomorrow, okay?”

“Choso, you know you don’t have to-”

“But I want to.”

Ryomen Sukuna

He will not wake you up and admit that he got hard because of a stupid dream, there’s absolutely no way. He won’t ‘jerk off’ either, that would be just low of him.

So he will indeed wake you up but by his cock inside of you. He immediately got to work, ripping your panties off and throwing them somewhere in the room, getting in between your legs as he picked them up and held them against your chest.

He spit down on your pussy, the cold sensation making you shiver in your sleep. He grabbed one of his cocks and positioned it against your entrance, he would use both but getting you prepared for the other one would take too long.

And with a quick thrust he was deep inside of you, filling you up. The sudden intruder immediately woke you up, letting out pleasurable but also painful scream.

“Ngh—! wha-?!” Your eyes darted around the room before laying on the huge frame of Sukuna, who was glaring at you.

“Quiet, brat. This is your fault so now take it.” Your back arched off the mattress as he suddenly started moving, still half asleep not knowing what’s happening.

“Ryo-! Wait! Let me-” before you could finish your sentence a loud moan left your mouth, he did not plan on giving you any mercy with how fast he was ramming inside you.

You yelped as he slapped your ass harshly, “That’s for waking me up, brat.” You wanted to reply to him but you couldn’t form the words, even if you did you knew that would just result in another slap.

He didn’t even bother at pulling out as he picked you up and flipped you onto your stomach like a ragdoll. Continuing with his harsh slams, you felt every vein, with how big he was he was hitting every spot inside your pussy.

His hand grabbed your head and pushed you further into the pillow, making you arch more. He was slamming into you so hard it felt like he was rearranging your guts. The knot in your stomach tightened as you clenched around him.

“Cum, slut.” With his words your hands gripped onto the pillows and with almost a scream-like moan you came so hard you saw stars, but even with your tight pussy clamping around him so hard his thrusts didn’t slow down.

He once again grabbed your body, now picking it up and making you sit on his lap, your back against his chest as he bounced you up and down. You were so fucked out, tears streaming down your cheeks, your tongue out as spit leaked from the corners of your mouth.

“Look at you, so greedy for my cock.” He smirked, pinching your nipple.

“Ryooo— I can’t-” he slapped your ass once again, making you let out a cry, feeling another orgasm coming soon.

“Close already?” He scoffed “Pathetic” you squirmed as his hand went to your clit. One hand on your throat, second on your boobs, third wrapped around your waist making you bounce and fourth on your clit.

“Haa- n-nono-“ you cried as the next orgasm hit you, squirting all around his cock and hand. Leaving you a panting and overstimulated mess.

“What a messy pussy…” he groaned as he slammed you down, cock buried so deep there was a bulge on your stomach as he filled you with his load.

You were sure you would fall down on the bed if he wasn’t holding you up. He pulled his cock out just to fill you again with his second one.

“Did you think we were done, brat?”

[wrotebymii]

EVERYTHING HAS A PLACE | Date Everything x Autistic!gn!reader

Summary: How life is with the objects and their autistic homeowner.

Warnings: Fluffy, minimal angst, reader doesn’t know their household necessities are sentient at first, I’m autistic but low-functioning so a lot of what I wrote is how I go about my day/how I act. Not edited. Reader is also slightly demi-romantic coded.

Lost the plot a few paragraphs in I’m sorry I’m sleep deprived.

MASTERLIST | READ ME

Timothy, Penelope, and You are like three peas in a pod. Using each keeps you relatively relaxed for the upcoming day or eventual break in your neatly put together schedule—which gets increasingly difficult to think about when said break comes.

Sorry, Sam, but your hang session is place obscurely in our data monthly pin board since it’s pushing too close to workout and the everything shower. —Signed Penelope

They all try to accommodate your needs; Kopi making the coffee the exact same every time, Freddy keeping the fridge nice and cool so your comfort foods don’t spoil just yet, Teddy being found under your bed when you’re having a difficult time regulating, even Lux and Barry collaborating reluctantly together to find the perfect hand lotion that doesn’t give you sensory headaches.

Everyone thinks you’re charming, not in an infantilizing way. Every single person adores you but with respect and understanding.

Most of them love that you have a routine you stick by, it’s easy to remember and gives them chill periods in between. Its a nice break because they too can get tired, so when there’s a detour in the schedule that wasn’t place advanced. They worry.

Koa and Mateo would immediately be there with you, letting you curl in the comfort of your bedding and focus on yourself. While Telly puts on a rerun of your favorite show.

But this time it’s different. An immediate change in your entire routine when you got the Dateviators. Forcing yourself to ignore the urge to clean the broken glass of your door window because a drone had so rudely forced the box in. You picked them up, they were cute a little tacky but cute nevertheless. Internally, you were still freaked out that an unknown person knew your address and sent you a pair of sungla— holy shit.

You put them on and you’re not sure how it happened but there was a very beautiful smiling pinked haired stranger standing a few feet away from you. She was practically buzzing in excitement as she explained what was happening. Causing you to…

Quickly take the glasses off and pace.

You couldn’t believe it, almost didn’t want to believe it. Within the comforts of your own home every object, appliance, knicknacks, and the literal embodiment of concepts are all sentient. It made you feel all types of ways wrong that you quickly took laps around the house before collapsing on the floor of your living room.

…this could be a good thing? You mean…it could help with your social skill and facial recognition. Hell, maybe you’ll get a friend out of this?

Slowly you put them back on, your world being brightly lit up by rose tinted specs. It hurts your eyes. Though, Skylar shows up again, looking down at you with a strained smile and wave. Easying you up without touching you to your feet and continuing what she was saying. Before another bomb shell hit you.

Dateviators…dateables

The whole point of these glasses was to date multiple of your household items which freaked you out more. However, you were truly thankful that you met Dorian first. His announcement that friendship was also an option made it less daunting on you.

Thus began the 102 way to get everything to be friends with you!

Sure, the first few days was stressful and near exhausting but long talks with Timothy and Pen helped greatly. They helped with creating an entirely new schedule color coded as well that allowed time for your humanly needs and getting to know everyone.

Jerry and You got along great, earning his friendship fast when you told him to up-cycle.

Lux was easy to hate, but with your inability to know when you’re being insulted you became their unlikely friend they hurt your eyes.

Teddy was amazing, you were little embarrassed that he knows deeply about your breakdowns but the silly advice and stories made it go away.

Barry is probably your best friend, you help him with his memory by saying he can use things he’s interested in to aid him in keeping track of things.

Chance is your second bestie, nearly tackling him in feral hyper fixation so you could yap his ear off about the game you both like. He’s the most likely to fall for you. Besides Wallace.

However, the best place is Break Box Club, but only when it’s after hours. You can only sit through terrible act before you want to put cotton in your ears. The club is soothing at closing, lights dimmer Volt and Eddie do that just for you and you get to drink a lot of mocktails Eddie teases you.

You do your share, of course. Not wanting to free load off the two. You have knowledge on the breaker box because you were frantically cleaning one day and found the manual which you spent the next hour reading through and forgot the cleaning which you regretted later.

Currently, you’re seated at the bar working on a project you and Jerry are doing while chatting to Eddie about a new dateable, questioning the person initial reaction to you. Volt was to your right.

“They were flirting…” He said, cleaning a glass with a shake of his head. The corner of his lips turning up. You give him a once over and hum in thought.

“Nah” You say flatly, not believing it.

“The hell you mean nah?” He raised an amused brow. You shrug and sit up straight, gathering your words.

“They seemed…rude? And pushy” You concluded.

“That doesn’t mean they weren’t…” Eddie pauses and places the glass down, rubbing between his eyes like he has a headache.

“Sometimes…insults can be meant in different ways, live wire.” Volt says, chuckling. They aren’t teasing you for your like of awareness but amused by the conversation overall.

“But, that’s not how it’s like in Betty’s books” You say, maintaining strict eye contact with Eddies hands as the wipe down the counter. Enjoying the rhythmic nature of it.

“How was it shown in these books?” Volt asks with more interest.

“Flashy, and oddly poetic. Like you’d sing a ballad if you saw your lover in front of you” You say remembering the way Betty gasp and sigh wishfully when she read it out loud. You thought it was pretty, and by definition romantic, but not something you think you’d like.

“Ah of course, lovey-dovey shit…” Eddie mumbles, he leans on the bar his hands on the counter supporting his weight. Volt hums.

“Betty is the overtly romantic type.” Volt looks at you, multitasking on the project and the conversation.

“-what about you?”

“Huh?”

“What is your romance like, your love language?”

“You don’t have to answer, tap your fingers twice if you want me to stop him” Eddie teases, his voice drowning out with Volts as they banter back and forth.

What is your romance like? Love language? You aren’t sure, but you know you like foundation a connection to someone. Similarities but not too many.

“I think I like just being near someone…we don’t have uh-don’t have to speak or do anything but just be there in each other presence, I enjoy that. Looking up and seeing that they’re there and I get to be there with them…” The room is silence, it’s not awkward but settle.

Then it’s broken.

“I enjoy the firey and beautiful passi-“

“You ruined it” Eddie huffs.

“Oh-ho I did not, I’m merely adding onto-“ Volt defends himself, electricity tingling over his arms—the zapping noise of it pleases you.

You giggle as they continue, adding the last bit to the Jerry project. Watching as Eddie and Volt blabber on as Eddie begins to walk away from the conversation to go on and do workaholic things.

You might not fully understand where you are in romantic relationships but you’ll take anything if it meant being in the presence of any object within this house. If they’re flirty, hateful, passive, aloof.

You don’t mind, being around them is enough for you.

[strab3rr]

(long story and no short sorry) GUYSSS I DID ITT

I INDUCED IT!!!!! I WAS PURE AS A FUCKING BABY

IDK WHAT TO SAY (ok enough w capslock)

i have so much to say and not a thing at da same time idk how

anyway i want to begin with thanking you @b4ddprincess bc youre the reason i realized why i started this thing. thank you for making my life better and make me realized what i need to do: nothing. (its same for you guys, all u have to do is nothing)

two fuckn years ago i said to myself that i need a better life, quiter life, less fight with everthing bc everything was so loud and not clear i was feeling lost like a child in the market, and i wanted to make things better for myself in every way, but the main idea of my reasons to wanting to get in the void was: making anxiety go and having better people in my life. but the ''voidlist'' just never stopped bc im kinda greedy(having the idea of controling on your life, the idea of that power makes you greedy. yes thats a thing) anyway the more i add to the list the more i feel like im movin away from my desires then i feel depressed bc ive overcomplicating it bc theres so many things to do but i dont do anything so nothing happend bc i was waiting to be someth happen. and then i started doing awkwardly silly things such as: void routines and challenges and (im embarrassed of this one bc i was too desperate) drinking water

youve read it correct drinking water.

i was sooo desperate for having those things id do anything to get them.

i am simple. i want what everyone wants🎀🎀🎀: shifting realities bc i have so many crush and i need them to be crush me in bed(for 2020 girlies)

being an academic weapon is so easy for me🎀(bc of the urge to make my family proud) +dream collage

being the girl that everyone gets along w(basic needs)

being the girl who is pretty not cute(trauma response)

glowing aura(cats loves people w glowing aura yes thats a thing too)

dream body n hair(bc i deserve this🎀)

healthy (girlyfriend)friends(basic needs)

and of course him, my sp(i cant tell wich one at that time but i releived that its not him now, bc MY BELOVED CURRENT BF. guyss he is the one. dont u dare ask me how you know? i literally manifested him🎀)

then i realized i can have everything bc its my reality so why not add these:

new phone, +macbook air

dream apartment of my own

pinterest closet

lifa app for this reality

financially free-money(a lot. like really a lot)

knowing 4 languages like a native person(bc i want to be diplomat so bad) +sign language(its in general)

a little drama(its not gonna hurt anybody)

my parents being more lovable and away from me

every time i try to get in, either i was failing or falling

and im sick of it, sick of it so much i quit.(for a year)

then i go to the theraphy(ofc no im jk ilove being crazy)

one day i saw a post ss from tumblr about pure consciousness on pinterest and i was like whaat is thiiss. no mention of void so i thougt its a diffrent thing and i download the tumblr again and search everything abt it. and same excitement again after one year same thougts and same list popes up in my head. and i was like ok maybe this time itll happen.

still waiting to be someth happen so nothing happend, it was such a waste of time trying to get in while i was already be, i was already what i want to become. i was that girl that everyone gets along with but i couldnt even see bc i was too focused on wanting to be. but still tried every night and failed. and again tried-failed-quit circle bc.. have you ever met me🎀

4 month ago i saw the girl, iconic blogger and the goddess of my dreams, her @b4ddprincess thx again love u so much

a post pops in my fyp and i see the words ''pure consciousness'' i was like noo not again. and i was serious abt it i wasnt gonna read the whole thing but it attract me n i couldnt resist it so ive read it from the top to the bottom. and she got my interest so i stalked her page from the last and to the first post. it was quiet a beautiful journey for me. lasted like 3 days, the end of the 3rd day i was ''woaw it was this easy all along? u cant be serious.'' she was. i tried one last time, no breathing exercise, no ridiculous routines and no waiting something to be happen. it was just me being real me chilling out asf.

and it was this easy and it should be this easy bc being your 4d self is being nothing also being everything at the same time. if u wanna be everything you should be nothing first(as wizardliz saying: drop the old story, leave the victimhood, for being better stop being bitter etc.)u should make a space for everything first and then u can be everything.

for being 4d self of yours stop being your3dself.

sooo long story (no)short i am writing this from my mac in my new apartment(in middle of the night bc i couldnt sleep and then one tumblr notification reminded me i have a success story to share too) and my phone buzzing two minutes a time bc of my friends while im writing this, so if theres anything wrong ignore it pls.

oh u asking my bf how cute, hes sleepin in my bed now, exhausted from the work n school balance.

YWS SCHOOL!! im in my dream collage and im going to be in paris for a week. i deserve a vacation i guess(its for another conference), i kinda hate french men bc theyre so mansplaning(not like how i imagined, its hard to be friends w them)girls are cute but i feel like theyre aware im not permanent there so we just con buddies still cute and hepful for this foreigner.

and i canceled the lifa app thingy bc i can be my purest consciousness anytime i want, so i am my lifa app.

and thx to 4 languages i make a lot of money and that brings us to the pinterest closet, yesterday i realiased that. theyre not comes to me w an imaginary way like i imagined! i go outside for shopping casually and theyre there luckily i have enough money to buy them.

and my family theyre living in our hometown now so as i want it to be, we are away from eachother.

and the most magical thing: SHIFTING REALITIESSS

i did 5 world before i met w my bf. it was such a wonderful experience. if you have doubts abt shifting you can go fuck urself

because sir i did it and i am very sure that dean winchester being my husband is not a daydream, fantasy nor lucid dreaming. believe it or not he kissed me GOD HE KİSSED ME(someone should stop me i have a bf)

is there anything i missed let me see.. cats i have 2 cats now and theyre adorable. glowing aura-check

the girl who is pretty not cute- check +make anxietygo-checkcheckcheck

dream body and hair- check and check

i wanna give u a info i didnt have all my desires by being my4dself

not directly actually. but i have them all. and thats the point.

im not trying to be a blogger but if you have any question abt anything, id be happy to help

now i need to upgrade things in my farm byeess

loves, siena.

[thetarotyapper]

how would people describe your beauty to others? (pick-a-card reading)

paid services 18+ paid services tarot community ko-fi

(how to pick a card? observe the given options and choose the one which you feel the most drawn to. scroll down to read your message!! remember, this is a general reading, so take what resonates! ps.- if you feel drawn to more than one card/image/pile, feel free to read the others too!! if the chosen pile doesn't relate to you, feel free to choose another. the choice is yours<3)

𐙚⋆.˚ pile 1 𐙚⋆.˚

3 of wands, temperance, the high priestess, the hermit, 3 of cups, 2 of cups

babe, you are LITERALLY the GLOW UP pile. not only is your facial features captivating, but you're also SMART. you're the definition of “beauty with brains”, like im not even kidding!! your facial features and structure is so perfectly balanced, you are the standard. like you're perfect. i'm not over-exaggerating here because it's true. people have noticed your glow up and your transformation and i can hear people whispering to others, “they used to look so different before but now they're unrecognisable!” 

your beauty catches people off guard and something about your face just beings me this sense of peace. it's almost like your face takes over your personality - and you have a kind personality. basically, your face is so beautiful and kind, it gives people this sense of comfort. people can't even get jealous over you because they're too busy lost in your beauty. and also because they know they can't be you heheh :b 

i’m see that before you might've struggled with body-image or you would've been insecure about the way you looked, but you put in the effort to transform and look at you now babe - catching people's attention and leaving them speechless! what makes you even more captivating is that you're smart. like ugh what do you not have??! you are everything.

you also have this mysterious and guarded look and i also feel like this is your energy. people find you so alluring because you're not easy to read. people want to get close to you. please want to know you. omg suddenly i hear a guy saying this while pointing at you, “you see them? (im actually getting a lot of feminine energy from this pile so hi my loves🤭) that person right there? they're so hard to get, and they're so irresistible”. 

some of y'all who chose this pile might be a part of the queer community and im seeing that you gain a lot of attention from both masculine as well as feminine energies. you're so hard to resist, pile 1. people want to know you but you do not open up so easily. im also seeing that some of y'all would have been victims of bullying (im so sorry, love. please know that people love you and care about you. you're beautiful and you matter<3) and now that you've changed for the better, everyone wants to get close to you. i have personal beef with whoever hurt you (⁠ノ⁠｀⁠Д⁠´⁠)⁠ノ⁠彡⁠┻⁠━⁠┻

im also seeing that men in relationships are literally ready to risk their current partners to get a chance with you. but you're not that type of person. you're gaining a lot of attention, pile 1. you might feel overwhelmed at times and a little put-off because all this seems so odd to you because this sudden attention is just too much. before, you struggled with being in your skin and now you're comfortable and happy with yourself. i see you being proud of yourself and you know what babe? you should be!! because only you know how far you've come. you know what's the sad part about your reading, pile 1? previously, people didn't really give you that much attention or your presence was dismissed by many but now that you've had a glow up and you look so beautiful, EVERYONE wants to talk to you. my advice would be that people don't deserve you if they weren't with you during your worst. all you need is yourself, so don't entertain the ones who don't deserve to be in your energy, love<3

𐙚⋆.˚ pile 2 𐙚⋆.˚

10 of swords, king of wands, page of pentacles, 5 of cups, the emperor, page of wands

YOUR EYES, BABE. YOUR EYES. something about your eyes just called out to me. they're intense, dark and dominating. people feel INTIMIDATED by your beauty. something about you is just so jaajajjakka like i can't wrap my head around it. more than your beauty, it's your energy that speaks. your energy is what makes you so captivating. people describe you by your energy. i hear people saying, “they're not easy to talk to”, because you make them nervous, babe. no, nervous is not the word. anxious. yes, that's how you make people feel. i see that people are even scared to lie to you. it's almost like you see right through them. IT'S YOUR EYES, LOVE. UGH, SO BEAUTIFUL AND CAPTIVATING. and the fact that y'all stand your ground and are so mature is what makes you so sexy….

you could be at a party with thousands of people around you and you'd still somehow capture people's eye. your energy and your beauty is something that cannot go unnoticed. your beauty just calls to people….you know? i hope i made sense. your beauty is so controlling and authoritative, people literally want to obey and worship you. pile 2, i'm not doing justice to you. like i don't know why but i feel like the way i'm describing you is not doing justice to your beauty. but that's the thing, people don't know how to describe you. there's no words to describe your beauty. it's just so out of this world. you're ethereal. you're everyone's dream person. 

im getting a feeling that you might be sexualized a lot by people or that you might've been catcalled a lot - oh love, im so sorry :( people look at you as this “prize” or “opportunity” they want to claim, but what they fail to notice is that you are a human being and that you have emotions. ugh people like that piss me off. pile 2, you're gorgeous and i'm so so sorry you have to go through all of this. take a deep breath and exhale slowly. when you're ready, we'll read the next part okay? no pressure<3

i'm seeing that currently you're in the process of a transformation and that your aesthetic or your looks are not “fixed” yet. either that means your features are still changing (maturing) or that you like to try out different clothing aesthetics and make-up. you like to experiment with your looks a lot. people can't mess with you and people don't even want to mess with you. i'm seeing some envious eyes here. some people are jealous that you can pull off ANYTHING and they can't. you're the type to slay in pyjamas.

pile 2, you give me the vibes of someone who is still maturing or someone who is still quite young. please stay safe out there because humans are unfortunately our worst enemies. the world is becoming a better place, but not everything is perfect. please take care of yourself and protect yourself. because i don't like the energy of the people around you. you need to be a little cautious because not everyone is a well-wisher, love.

𐙚⋆.˚ pile 3 𐙚⋆.˚

justice, 3 of swords, page of cups, the fool, the lovers, king of pentacles, ace of pentacles

my lovely pile 3, your beauty is PIERCING. it's so raw and beautiful. i hear people thinking, “what makes them so different? they look like any other person but god…there's just something about them that i can't ignore!”. you get people flustered and frustrated, pile 3. people don't know how to act around you. they feel so conscious and nervous around you. people felt intimidated by pile 2, oh but they're scared of you, pile 3. 

the way you talk is very attractive and people love listening to you talk. you just make so much sense. you also have a very confident gaze, people are afraid to make eye contact with you. your beauty pains their heart. but you know what pains them even more? it's the fact that you're not theirs. i wouldn't be surprised if people fantasize about you. you possess the type of beauty that has people HOOKED. you're the airport crush. your face is just so hard to forget - and the fact that your natural/bare face is so attractive, it makes people go crazy over you. you have this touch of “freshness” or like a “clean-girl-aesthetic” vibe - like people just love your bare face. 

many people literally fall in love with you during the first encounter. but can you even blame them, babe? the previous two piles had a very strong and dominating energy, but your energy is so soft and soothing. i'm also seeing pink and plump lips. i have no words for your beauty, pile 3. how are you even real? you have such a youthful face and your skin literally GLOWS. you might be into skincare too. it's just the way you take care of yourself is what makes you so attractive. 

i see people telling others that you are so naturally pretty and others will have a hard time believing that fact until they see you. i see people stopping and staring at you. you give me “grey sweatpants, pull over, bare face, lips gloss and mascara” typa vibes, but somehow you are still so effortless. how does it feel to be god's favourite, pile 3?😭

i'm also seeing that you might wear these headbands to pull your hair back so it doesn't fall in front of your face and it makes you look so cute because i feel like your headbands have these cute animal doodles or something of that sort. 

many people are curious about you, pile 3. you also have this childlike energy and some people see you as naive and might think of taking advantage of you. please be careful of such people, dear!! they're just soul-suckers. all they care about is exhausting your energy for their benefit. also, one thing i love about you pile 3 is that your emotions are literally shown on your face. someone might say something very stupid and you might try to hide your emotions by putting on a fake smile but before you even know it, you already have a disgusted expression on your face. because of this, many people might be a little scared to talk to you because they feel like you will judge them. many people might think you're mean and full of yourself and that's why they are scared of approaching you.  something about your voice is also very attractive. as mentioned before, people love listening to you talk. you could yap for hours and people would still be on their knees, looking up at you and worshipping you. for them, every word that comes out of your mouth is like a prayer. people are addicted to you, babe.

hi loves!! i hope this reading finds you in good health and i hope you are doing well. take care of yourself and i will see you in my next reading. thank you for being here<3

(note: tarot & oracle cards provide guidance and possible insights into what could happen based on current energies, thoughts, feelings and actions. the cards can highlight potential paths or outcomes, but they do not predict the future in a fixed way. this is a general reading so take what resonates!)

જ⁀➴ all credit for the pictures & dividers goes to their rightful owners and creators.

[bookishdreamer28]

You and Mattheo were laying on the couch inside the common room, with no one else around but just the two of you since you skipped another class today.

Mattheo had your body cradled in his arms, as he softly ran his fingers through your hair. He was watching you in admiration as you read your book and he felt his stomach flipping as you looked up at him to give him one of your tooth-rooting smiles, a warm light reflecting in your eyes. It was still unbelievable to him how he got so lucky to have someone like you, loving him the way you do and making him the happiest he could ever be.

The light from the fireplace was hitting your face just right. So beautiful Mattheo thought to himself as he kept his gaze on you, feeling so hypnotized by you.

No words were needed, because just the way you looked at each other alone, was enough to understand what and how the other was feeling. You moved up a little and captured his lips into a love filled kiss, which Mattheo melt into the kiss and hum with satisfaction. After a while, you pulled away and when you looked at each other, you let out a small laugh which made Mattheo's smiled wider.

"Gosh you're so beautiful" he whispered and kissed you again, with more passion. When you were done with your make out session, you just stayed there, snuggled up closer to each other and enjoyed each other's company.

"You know at some point we should tell them" you murmured against his neck and turned to look at him.

"You kidding? They'll start tormenting us about not telling them and they won't Ever, leave us alone again. And trust me the last thing I want, is to want to have my moments with my gorgeous girl, and having the guys eavesdropping"

He placed a kiss on your forehead and laid back as he looked at you with a smirk. You shook your head as you laughed and laid your head on his chest.

"I love these secret moments together. We don't need anyone else to know. Now that I finally have you, I want to cherish you every minute of the day" you giggled as he laid you now on your back and he got on top of you.

He kissed you hungrily and his hand traveled up to your thigh, squeezing the soft flesh. You softly moaned as he bite your lip and you wrapped your arms around his shoulder, pressing him closer to your body.

You suddenly heard a weird thudding sound coming from outside and you stopped kissing. He looked at the door and then down ar you.

"Whoever it is they'll leave. I can't stop now" he growled and was about to kiss you again but this time the sound was a bit louder.

"Who ever the fuck is out there you better get lost or else-" The door opened and slammed on the wall by the impact, and two bodies were laying on the ground.

"What. The fuck?" You and Mattheo said and two heads looked up at you.

"Annoying presences? Do you really find us annoying?" Theodore aksed with furrowed eyebrows.

"I'm sorry, were you eavesdropping the whole time?"

"I wouldn't call it eavesdrop-"

"Oh shut it " Mattheo said to Enzo and then turned to you ready to kiss you again but then he noticed how Theodore and Enzo hadn't left from the room yet.

"You're not going to watch me kiss my girlfriend pricks" Mattheo angrily said to them and the boys hurriedly stood up and just left the room.

"Well that was easy-"

"And just so you're know we're not annoying. Y/N loves me" Enzo's face appeared behind the door and smirked at you.

"Berkshire you have one second-"and before Mattheo could finish the sentence, Enzo was already gone.

You laughed and Mattheo turned his head to you when he heard the joyful sound, smiling too.

"And now, where were we?" He leaned down and started trailing deep kisses along the nape of your neck, making you forget about everything.

💚 🙌

[daycourtofficial]

His shadows know

Pairing: Azriel x reader | WC: 3.8k | Warnings: none

Summary: His shadows knew you were mates before either of you did and they do everything they can to push the two of you together.

Author’s note: happy 2k kick off day!!! 🎉 this is actually the oldest draft I have - I began writing this in October I think? I loved the idea but got stuck for so long on where to take it so shout out to @tsunami-of-tears for reading it and giving me feedback - this story would be lost to time without you thank you thank you thank you

Being a scholar in the Winter Court had several perks - your home had a rich and deep history, you spent most of your time reading, and you became great friends with your High Lord and newly appointed High Lady - Kallias and Viviane. Your friendship had great perks, one of which was their allowance for you to travel with them to the Night Court. 

Rhysand had spent centuries keeping up the appearance that it was a terrible place to live, that the people were terrible, everything was terrible, leading to none of the high lords ever spending time in the Night Court. After Velaris became known to the other high lords, Viviane wrote immediately to Mor asking for the chance to see the city of starlight. Mor immediately agreed, also requesting for you to come as well. You and Mor were friendly, but she liked you and knew you would love the city.

The three of you winnowed together, being greeted by Rhys, Feyre, and Mor upon your arrival. After some pleasantries, Kallias and Rhysand started speaking about some political matter, so you slipped out and started wandering around the palace, admiring the beautiful architecture and paintings lining the walls. Many portraits hung in front of you - some depicting battles, some depicting members of the royal family. 

You were stopped at a beautiful portrait of their newest addition, Nyx, when you felt a little tug on your arm. You looked down to find the cutest little blob of darkness dancing around your arm. It tickled as it swirled and skittered across your skin. The little shadow made the rounds around your body, swirling around your arms, your waist, your legs - as if it was checking to make sure everything’s okay.

“You are adorable” you whispered to it, when a second and third one appeared. “How many of you are there?” You whispered, unsure if it can even respond.

“There’s no keeping count of them. Or keeping track of them, I suppose.”

The voice startles you and the shadows, who wrap around you, almost trying to guide you to the voice. You turn to see the most devastatingly beautiful male you’ve ever seen - dark, sun-kissed skin covered large muscular arms, massive membranous wings behind him. Light poured behind him allowing the wings to look almost pink from the stretched skin, but everywhere else behind him was cloaked in shadows that moved lazily, slithering across his shoulders.

Hazel eyes look down at you, a smirk on his face.

“Are you in charge of them, I suppose?” You ask, a smile grazing your lips.

“I wouldn’t say that. They don’t always listen to me. They seem to like you, though.”

While you were speaking, a few more joined to inspect you, fast blurs of darkness roaming your skin leaving goosebumps in their cold wake.

“Hmm, maybe they see me as a threat. I can be quite frightening, you know.”

“Frightening? Yes, I can see you’re trying to pinpoint your next target. Unfortunately, I do believe you are wasting your time. Studying Nyx’s portrait won’t help you determine his weaknesses.”

“I’ve actually uncovered quite a lot about his weaknesses from his portrait.”

“Pray tell,” he leans against the wall, studying your face.

“I think his weaknesses include both nap time and bed time, along with his incredibly short legs. Dare I say, he’d be very easy to pick up and maneuver.”

“Unfortunately, you’ve picked a target that is so heavily protected you may never get the chance to see him.”

Your face lights up in delight, “so I am a frightening threat? Why else go through the trouble to hide him from me?”

“Nyx doesn’t like strangers,” his tone was so matter of fact, the shadows peered over his shoulders to watch the exchange.

“Hmm, you could introduce us. Then it’ll be a fair fight.”

“Unfortunately for you, I believe he is napping. And disturbing him from a nap is the worst part of my job.”

“So it is part of your job to wake him up?”

“I have to train him against all these frightening threats that wander the halls.”

“I only see one frightening threat.”

The shadows began dancing between you two, pulling you both closer and closer, until you realized you could put your hand out and touch his face. Your fingers twitched slightly at the intrusive thought.

“And does this frightening threat have a name.”

“Y/n.”

He smiles at your name - you assume he already knew who you were, he just wanted you to say it for whatever reason.

“And does the one who has the terrifying job of waking Nyx have a name?”

“Azriel.”

“And you also aren’t in charge of the shadows, but you provide them with suggestions?”

He laughs as he says, “They usually listen to me, especially when I command them, but sometimes they just find something they like and want to investigate.”

“Is that what happened? They wanted to investigate me?”

“Yes.”

“Why? Did they like what they found out in their investigation?”

“Sometimes they investigate pretty things or things they’ve never seen before. They won’t tell me why they came after you, but they tell me they like you.”

“Can you tell them that I like them? Or can they hear me when I talk to them?”

“They can hear you, you just can’t really hear them.”

“They’re very beautiful.” You were talking about the shadows, of course. Definitely not also about the male in front of you.

“Yes they are.” He says, gazing into your eyes, perhaps speaking about more than just the shadows.

The spell between your shared gaze is broken when a door opens and Mor comes running down the hall. “Oh, good, Az found you. We thought you got lost somewhere,” she sounded out of breath, as if she were roaming the halls for you.

“I’m sorry, Mor, you know I love to wander.” You look at Azriel, his hazel eyes meeting your gaze. “You never know what you’ll find.”

-

It had been a long day. Velaris was stunning, a beautiful gem in an otherwise terrifying sounding court, but you desperately need a warm bath and a few moments of peace. You adored Viviane and Kallias, but you needed to be away from him for a few hours. You needed peace and quiet.

And maybe a few moments to think about the beautiful male you were flirting with earlier.

You prepared yourself a bath, lowering your entire body into the warm water. You tilt your head back, enjoying the warmth on your aching muscles from walking around the palace all day, when you see out of the corner of your eye a tiny little shadow.

“Hello, sweetie,” you coo towards it. You can’t help it - they’re absolutely adorable. They remind you of little pets, but less messy or noisy. One or two of them had followed you around during the day. You weren’t sure if anyone else noticed or not, especially because you didn’t see Azriel again for the rest of the day.

The shadow came to the edge of the bathtub, climbing up your arm, nestling into your hair. “You are a silly little thing aren’t you?” You ask it, with no response. “Will you ever speak to me?” You ask, again with no response. “Will you keep me company?” The shadow didn’t necessarily respond, but you felt the shadow’s agreement as it nestled further into your hair as you sank into the bath once more.

After your bath, with the shadow still keeping you company, you put on a nightgown and decided you wanted to go down to the kitchen to look for some cookies, certain that Rhysand would only have the highest quality of late night snacks. You reiterate your thoughts to the shadow, when the shadow holds you back by your wrist for a moment.

“Is everything alright?” The shadow keeps a hold on you, not letting you go. A moment or two passes, and the shadow lets go, causing you to move forward a little. “I can go now?” You ask, which the shadow ignores again, but doesn’t keep you in place any longer. You walk to the door, opening it only to collide directly into someone.

“I’m so sorry I-“ you’re cut off by the laugh of the beautiful Azriel.

“It’s okay,” he says, and you take this opportunity to glance down and you realize he’s wearing a loose pair of trousers with no shirt on. His bare chest was just as beautiful as the rest of him - black ink trailed across his shoulders in an abstract way that your eyes lingered on. If you weren’t so preoccupied by checking him out, you might have noticed the shadows surrounding him, trying to slow him down.

A small blush creeps down your cheeks as you ask, “is your uh tiny general happy and napping?”

He smirks and says “well I’m not sure about how happy he is, but Cassian is definitely asleep. He’s kept on a separate floor because of how loud he snores.”

You hit him in the chest, “you know I wasn’t talking about - wait he sleeps on a different floor? Is it really that bad?”

He motions for you to follow him up the stairs, and before you’re even halfway up, you hear impossibly loud snoring. “Oh,” you giggle, “yeah I’m not sure how anyone sleeps in the same city block as him.”

“You have no idea. Cassian’s really susceptible to pollen, so during the spring time it’s absolutely ridiculous. We once banned him for a week so we could all sleep.”

You laugh, and then try to shush yourself so he doesn’t wake up. “Stop - if I laugh I’ll wake him up.”

“What are you doing up?” He asks, his hazel eyes looking down at you with such fondness you wanted to curl up in his gaze and rest in it for a while.

“Oh I wanted cookies, actually.” You reply. “Why are you awake?”

He stammers a little, not wanting you to know that he was walking by your door to see if you were still awake. He had wanted to see you again, your earlier encounter occupying his thoughts all day long, when he assumed you had turned in for the night.

“Uh, I was doing a patrol.” He settled on.

“Oh yeah? Wanted to make sure the terrifying threat was contained?”

He smirked, “what do you think I’m doing now? I figure if I feed the threat, it might spare me.” He gives you the sweetest looking puppy dog face, and you have no idea where it came from, but it absolutely melts your heart.

“Stop that!” you say, while hitting his chest.

“Stop what?” He says, continuing his pouting.

“You look like a sad puppy dog, stop!”

“Will it make the frightening threat not want to kill me?”

“Hmm, the frightening threat will leave you be, for now.”

You two head into the kitchen, and he immediately starts searching through cupboards.

“Mor and Cassian have the best cookies,” he says, while reaching the higher shelves to pull out random boxes that contain cookie tins.

“I didn’t know being a spymaster included knowing everyone’s taste in cookies.” 

“You never know what might become necessary information.”

He looked down at you, offering you a cookie. You accepted it, and as your hands were connected by the cookie, a few shadows danced around your arms to some unheard song. He seemed a little surprised at them, his mouth dropping just slightly.

“Are they always this kind to night court guests?” You asked, nibbling on the cookie.

“Only the pretty ones.”

“And do you always flirt with night court guests?”

He leaned in closer, “only the pretty ones.”

You took a step closer, until you’re almost touching noses.

“And do you always commit crimes with your guests?”

His breath was fanning your face. It smelled of sugar cookie and mint, and you think about what it would feel like to inhale him.

“Only you.”

He pulled out a cookie and offered it to your mouth, which you happily accepted. You don’t break eye contact as you grab the cookie with your mouth, pulling it from his fingers.

“I can’t say I’ve indulged in criminal activity with anyone else.”

His grin grows as you bite into the cookie, a few crumbs falling but a few shadows swoop down to catch them before depositing them in the trash.

“Good. I am in charge of catching criminals in the night court, and I’d hate to have to catch you and lock you up.”

A blush spread over your cheeks. You opened your mouth to respond, when Azriel straightened, his wings going rigid.

“Hide the evidence.” He whispered, as he pulled back and quietly put the cookies away back where they came from. Before you can ask him about the abrupt change, you hear loud footsteps coming down the stairs into the kitchen, before seeing Cassian appear.

He looked at the two of you, surprised that anyone else was awake at this hour. Now he was hoping the two of you wouldn’t stay too long so he could reach his secret stash of cookies.

-

During the afternoon the next day, your little shadow companion kept following you around, almost acting as a guide dog. When you came down for breakfast, it guided you into the seat next to where Azriel was sitting, even guiding your hand to grab an apple at the same time as him, causing your fingers to brush against each other. 

Currently the shadow was dragging you through the hallways of the house, into what appeared to be a massive library. It guided you to sit in a chair at a table where there seemed to be some paperwork piled on top. The shadow left you for a moment, returning with a book for you.

“Ah, thank you,” you say, petting at the shadow. It curled around your finger in reciprocation before slithering back into your hair. You began reading the book, only getting a chapter in when someone sat across the table from you.

“The threat has found where I liked to do work,” Azriel stated, looking through his papers. You smiled up at him, “I have to be prepared to strike at any moment, you know.”

He chuckled, a soft look on his face. “Well, if you plan to attack in the library, please try to keep noise levels to a minimum, Clotho gets very upset when I cause too much noise. I’m on thin ice with her.”

“Oh, I see. You have a reputation for hosting parties down here,” you muse.

He looks at you, a lazy grin on his face, “my parties are known across Prythian, only the best, most exclusive guests may attend my library events.”

“And am I on the guest list?” You ask, leaning against the table. “Of course,” he replied, leaning towards you over the table, “you might be a threat, but I’ve heard you’re one hell of a dancer.”

You laugh loudly, then remember where you are and try to quiet down. “I’ll have you know that I’m a lousy dancer, but I would be very interested in attending one of your parties anyway.”

-

The longer you stayed, the more the shadows kept maneuvering around you. Instead of just one you now had a small trio who accompanied you everywhere, hiding in your hair, wisping around your neck and wrists like jewelry when you were alone.

One night at dinner, you’re seated next to Azriel for the fourth evening in a row. You’re not sure if any of his family members pick up on this, but Kallias and Viviane also sit in the same place each night, so perhaps it wasn’t anything noteworthy.

“Can you pass me the potatoes please?”

You knew if you turned to the right, Azriel’s face would be right next to yours and your noses would be able to touch.

“Of course, can’t give you any reason not to trust me.” You winked at him, reaching over for the potatoes. When you turn back, Azriel’s expression has changed ever so slightly, and his eyes search for your face, something you can’t quite pinpoint in his eyes.

“Here you are,” you say, moving the bowl towards him.

“Here I am,” he says, not reaching for the bowl, instead keeping his gaze fixed on you. You laugh, expecting there to be some joke, but he keeps his gaze fixed on you and you find it impossible to breathe with the way he’s looking at you.

Surely someone else notices the way you two are locked in this embrace, but when you quickly glance around the table, no one seems to notice or care.

He reached for the potatoes and looked at them. “How can I be sure you didn’t poison these?”

You laugh, the spell of the moment gone, and you’re able to think properly again.

“I guess you’ll never know.”

He placed the bowl down, smirking. “Better not take any chances then.”

The rest of the dinner continued, everyone amused at Nyx’s babbling and insistence of sitting in Cassian’s lap despite how many times he’s put back into his own high chair, and yet your eyes kept finding those potatoes Azriel never ate, the bowl untouched since he took it from your hands.

-

A quick knock to your door the next morning stops you from packing, and you stride over to open it. “Hi, Azriel,” you say, leaving the door open for him to come in as you turn back around to put your folded clothes away. Several of his shadows move towards you, trying to unfold your clothes when you aren't looking.

“Leaving so soon?” he asks, shutting the door behind him gently, turning back to you with his hands in his pockets. You swat at the shadows, refolding their undoing.

“Unfortunately, my trip always had an expiration date attached to it.”

You breathe deeply, trying to ignore how good he smells when you feel him come up behind you, his chest close enough that you can feel his body heat through your clothes. From behind you, he lifts one of his hands up, almost touching you, but not quite getting far enough before retracting his hand.

He clears his throat, “what did you think of my home court?”

You smile, doing the latches on your luggage. “It’s quite beautiful. Do you get all four seasons here?”

He nods his head in agreement when you turn to face him, not noticing the shadows behind you undoing the latches to your suitcase and unpacking once more for you. “That must be nice,” you muse, “I love Winter, but I am quite tired of the cold.”

“I’m used to the cold, growing up in the mountains you grow quite accustomed to it.”

“Then you’d feel comfortable visiting me in the Winter Court?”

Azriel’s ears reddened at the brazen ask, “I can’t imagine visiting you anywhere and not feeling at ease.”

It was your turn for your ears to redden, but Azriel doesn’t let the silence linger for long. 

“Before you go, can I tell you something?”

Surprise overcomes your face, intrigued by his question. You nod, desperate to know what he has to say before you leave. He looked behind you, watching his shadows unpack your bag and put your clothes back where they had come from in the drawers.

“I was very drawn to you when we first met.”

He clears his throat, his wings twitching with nerves. “I was literally dragged to you. I was winnowing elsewhere, but my shadows brought me next to you. I was intrigued why they’d do such a thing,” one of the offending shadows gently passes over his cheek before making its way to greet you.

“They’re funny little things. I thought they were just annoyed with me because I wasn’t sleeping. And then you spoke to me. You were so relaxed with me, immediately. It’s not- most fae aren’t relaxed around me. And I really liked you.”

“I like you too, Azriel.”

He holds up a hand, silently telling you he’s not quite finished. You hold your hands up in mock surrender, allowing him to continue.

“And then you were everywhere. In the hallway, next to me at meals, on the balconies when I landed. It’s like you knew where I’d be.

“Last night at dinner, when I asked you for the potatoes.. I didn’t eat them after you gave them to me.”

You cock your head to the side, confused at this admission over something as minor as potatoes. “Did you change your mind?”

“No, no. I just- I just- the second you were about to hand them to me, I felt it.”

“You felt it?” Confusion coursed through you, completely unsure of where he was going. You enunciated each word, curious over what ‘it’ was.

“I felt it.” His tone held more conviction, but you weren’t any less confused by what he was talking about.

“What did you feel?”

“This.” And you felt a sharp tug in your chest, pulling you towards him, almost knocking you off of your feet. You gasp, holding your arms out to steady yourself, your hands meeting his chest instead.

“That- what- I-“ you look around frantically, unsure exactly of what that was. You look up, finding soft, slight amusement in his hazel eyes. Shadows swarmed around the two of you, circling your arms, your legs, your fingers. They seemed to be saying something, and you closed your eyes to listen.

Mate. Mate. Mate. 

You close your eyes, looking deep into your chest, searching for that rope, that tether between your souls. It was shadow and ice, wrapped around each other for as far as you could see.

You gave it a sharp tug, and it was Azriel’s turn to lurch forward. You laugh at his stumbling, holding his elbows to keep him steady.

“Is your offer still valid - for me to visit you in Winter?”

“Only if I can come visit you here, mate.”

Azriel’s knees nearly gave out at the name, the title he’s wanted for centuries. And here you were, right in front of him. 

His hand moved hesitantly toward your face, lingering close enough that you could feel the chill from his hand. You nuzzled your cheek into his hand, looking up at him. This beautiful, kind male was your mate.

You had known him for four days - you hardly knew him, hardly knew anything about him or his homeland. But that was okay. You knew his shadows well enough by now.

They were a pretty good judge of character.

Permanent taglist: @vanilla-seabass @cyrygher @lees-chaotic-brain @topaz125 @chessebookgirl @fides25 @lady-of-tearshed @ashbatz @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria @justvibbinghere @daughterofthemoons-stuff @mybestfriendmademe @heartless-tate @tsunami-of-tears @idrkwhatthisisimsorry @olive-main

Azriel taglist: @brieflyclassymortal @thisiskaylin

Thanks for reading! 💕

[gaysindistress]

Things Gale says

Things they say masterlist

Gale taking a deep breath to steady his nerves the orb before putting on an easy smile and humming, “always a delight to speak with you, what’s on your mind?”

Gale, lost in his own head and exhausted from the day’s events, mumbling the words he’s reading.

Gale who swore he would never complain about the sleeping conditions, barely keeping in a hiss of pain as he stands up and sheepishly saying, “it’s nothing a good stretch can’t fix. I’ll be right as rain soon enough.”

Gale wrapping his arms around your shoulders, his eyes fluttering closed, sighing deeply, whispering, "If I don't get my beauty sleep soon, I may just get a tad malcontent.”

Gale chuckling against your hair when you push away from him, “Rest assured I can manage my mischievous ways for a bit longer but I make no promises.”

Gale carefully watching your reaction anytime he does a little magic, only to turn to you with a small smirk and asking, “breathtaking is it not?”

Gale growing frustrated when you haven’t returned for the day and the orb is becoming overwhelming painful causing him to snap at you.

Gale immediately regretting his harsh tone, his gaze dropping down for a moment and his voice lowering as he says, “my apologies. I should not have taken that tone with you. I see now that you weren’t ignoring me as I had thought.”

Gale being silent after Elminster visits and staring into the fire but remains at your side the entire night.

Gale, upon seeing you laid bare for him for the first time, murmuring in a voice full of adoration and lust, “You are ethereal, my dear.”

Gale groaning when you start to kiss down his chest and leave a trail of red marks in your path, “Weave save me.”

Gale seeking you out after his last conversation with Mystra and gathering you into his arms, quietly saying, “thank you. Thank you for everything that you have done for me. Thank you for loving me.”

Gale assuring you years after everything, “i think our life is quite spectacular my dear. No we are not fighting gods and defeating cults anymore but the quiet life suits us, does it not?”

[valkyriexo]

Work of Art | Hyunjin

ᑉ³pairing; Best Friend Hyunjin x Reader

ᑉ³genre; Angst (ish?), Smut

ᑉ³warnings; SMUT MDNI, Jealousy, dirty talk, swearing, P in V, unprotected sex , fingering, edging, Semi-public sex, Smut. SMUTTT minors do NOT interact

ᑉ³Authors Note; 1k event Commisson giveaway winner @skzdreamer13 (sorry it took so long ! ) Also... this is a bit longer then i intended it to be i got... carried away hehehe

The art studio smells like paint, the familiar scent swirling in the air as you dip your brush into a swirl of color. The canvas in front of you is slowly taking shape, the blend of pastel blues and soft pinks beginning to resemble the hazy skyline of a dreamscape you’ve been envisioning for weeks. You’ve lost track of how many hours you’ve spent on it, layering colors, fine-tuning the details, but it doesn’t matter. You’ve always loved getting lost in your work.

Across the room, Hyunjin sits at his usual spot by the window, sketchbook propped on his knee as he sketches something you can’t quite see from where you stand. It’s comfortable, familiar, the two of you working in companionable silence. Every now and then, you glance up to find him already looking at you, eyes soft and focused, like he’s trying to memorize every detail of the moment.

You’ve been friends for what feels like forever, bonded over late nights in this very studio, sharing music while you worked side by side.

It’s...... easy with him, always has been.

Hyunjin is the kind of person who understands you without you needing to say anything. He knows your moods, can read the subtlest change in your expression, and you’ve always been able to share everything with him — your art, your frustrations, your dreams. This studio was your place. You’d both stay long after everyone else left, the hum of creativity and quiet conversation filling the space between you.

“What do you think?” you ask, turning your canvas toward him. His opinion has always mattered to you. Hyunjin’s eye for detail is sharp, but more than that, you trust him to be honest.

He looks up, his gaze landing on the canvas. A small smile tugs at the corner of his lips, his eyes softening as he takes it in. “It’s beautiful,” he says, voice low, almost reverent. “There’s something... ethereal about it. It feels like a memory.”

Your heart flutters at his words, the compliment striking deeper than it should. “That’s what I was going for,” you say, stepping back to look at your painting again.

Hyunjin nods, his gaze flickering back to the painting. For a moment, he doesn’t say anything, just studies it with that intense focus he always has when he’s taking something in. Then, quietly, he says, “You always manage to put so much feeling into your work. It’s one of the things I... admire about you.”

There’s a softness in his voice that makes your heart skip, something unspoken in the way he says those last words. He doesn’t look at you when he says it, his eyes still fixed on the canvas, but there’s an underlying tenderness that you can’t quite ignore.

You open your mouth to respond, to say something — anything — but the air feels thick with something you can’t name, and before you can find the right words, the door to the studio swings open.

Han walks into the studio, a burst of energy and excitement trailing in his wake. He’s carrying a bag of takeout, the aroma of food filling the air as he enters. His face is lit up with a wide, enthusiastic grin, his eyes sparkling with genuine excitement.

“Hey, everyone!” Han’s cheerful voice fills the studio as he strides in with takeout. “Thought you might be hungry.”

You turn to greet him, your mood lifting at the sight of his familiar, easygoing smile. Han sets the bags of food on the table with a casual grace. “I brought some takeout. Figured you two could use a break.”

“Thanks, Han,” you say, trying to keep the atmosphere light. You catch Hyunjin’s reaction from the corner of your eye. His smile tightens just a fraction, and he shifts his gaze back to his sketchbook, an unreadable expression settling on his face.

“Perfect timing,” Hyunjin says, his voice polite but lacking its usual warmth. “We could use a break.”

Han begins unpacking the food, his eyes bright as he glances at your painting. “Wow, Y/N, that’s incredible,” he says with genuine admiration. “You’ve really outdone yourself.”

You smile at the praise, feeling a warm flutter at Han’s enthusiasm. “Thanks, Han. I’ve been working on it for a while.”

As Han continues to unpack the food, you notice Hyunjin’s shoulders are tense, his focus remaining on his sketchbook. There’s a subtle shift in the air, a change you can’t quite place but that feels almost tangible.

“Mind if I join in?” Han asks, setting up a plate of food for you and Hyunjin. His casual tone and easy smile make it clear he’s just as comfortable here as he is anywhere else.

“Of course,” you reply, “It’s good to have you here.”

Hyunjin finally looks up, his gaze fleetingly meeting yours before he returns to his sketchbook. “Yeah, it’s nice to have a break,” he says, his tone once again polite but detached.

As you all sit down to eat, you find yourself drawn into Han’s stories and jokes, your laughter mingling with his. It’s clear that you’re enjoying his company, and you can’t help but notice how his presence brings a different kind of energy to the studio.

Hyunjin, on the other hand, remains subdued. He joins in the conversation, but his responses are brief, and his attention seems.....

....divided.

The studio hums with the soft sounds of conversation and the clinking of utensils as Han continues to engage with you and Hyunjin over lunch. His attention is focused on you, and you can’t miss the playful glint in his eyes.

Lately, Han has been visiting the studio more frequently. At first, it was just a casual drop-in here and there, but recently, he’s been making it a regular thing. The three of you have been spending a lot of time together, discussing art, sharing ideas, and even grabbing lunch like today. His presence has added a new dynamic to your studio time, and you can’t deny that it’s been refreshing.

When Han started coming around more, it felt like a natural extension of your routine. He’d drop by with coffee or lunch, sometimes bringing along his own sketches to work on. You found some joy in his company , and it was easy to get lost in conversation with him. His enthusiasm for art matched yours, and his friendly, easygoing nature made him a great addition to your creative space.

The more Han visited, the more you two grew close. You started to look forward to his presence, finding comfort and inspiration in his company. You’d often stay late into the evening, chatting about everything from art to life.

But with Han’s increased presence, something shifted. You noticed how your interactions with Hyunjin became less frequent. Where you used to work side by side, sharing thoughts and critiques, you now found yourself pulled into conversations with Han. 

“So, Y/N,” Han starts, leaning slightly closer with a teasing smile. “How do you manage to make everything look so effortless? I’ve seen your work, and I know it’s anything but.”

You laugh, a bit flustered by his directness. “It’s a lot of practice and maybe a bit of luck,” you reply, trying to keep things light.

Han grins, his gaze lingering on you. He gently tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering just a moment longer than necessary. “I’d say it’s definitely more than luck. I’ve seen your paintings turn into something incredible. Maybe you’ve got a secret.”

You feel your cheeks warm at his touch and compliment. “Maybe I do,” you say, matching his playful tone. “But I’m not sure I’m ready to share it just yet.”

Han chuckles softly and reaches over to hand you a paintbrush, his fingers brushing against yours in the process. “Well, if you ever decide to let me in on that secret, I’d be more than happy to help you with it.” He gets a little closer, his arm grazing yours as he leans in. “You know,” he says, leaning in a little closer, “I was thinking... maybe we should test that theory. How about we paint something together one day? I’ve got some ideas and I think it could be a lot of fun.”

“That sounds interesting. What kind of ideas do you have in mind?” you reply.

Just as he starts to respond, Hyunjin, who has been quietly watching, stands up abruptly. His voice, though calm, carries an unmistakable edge. “It’s getting late,” he says, his gaze flickering between you and Han. “I think it’s time to wrap things up for today. Y/N, you should probably head home too.”

Han’s expression shifts from playful to slightly confused. “Already? I was just about to ask Y/N to—”

Hyunjin cuts him off with a firm yet polite tone. “I’m sorry, Han, but we’ve all had a long day. We can catch up on the details another time. Y/N, let’s get going.”

You glance at Han, his eyes reflecting a mix of disappointment and surprise, before turning to Hyunjin. “Yeah, I guess it is getting late,” you agree, though you can’t help but feel a twinge of guilt as you stand up.

Han’s disappointment is evident as he offers you a small, wistful smile. “Alright, Y/N. We’ll talk about it soon. Have a good night.” His words are warm, but there’s a hint of frustration in his eyes as he gathers his things.

As Han exits the studio, you turn to find Hyunjin already heading towards the door, his expression a mix of frustration and anger. He’s usually so composed, but there’s something in his demeanor tonight that feels sharp and unsettled.

“Hyunjin, wait up,” you call, catching up to him as he moves toward the entrance. The studio is now quiet, the clinking of utensils and hum of conversation replaced by an uneasy silence.

Hyunjin stops and turns to face you, his gaze intense. “Y/N, I didn’t mean to rush you, but..." He pauses, his voice faltering slightly as he searches for the right words.

“Actually, never mind,” he says abruptly, his tone shifting to a forced calm. “Have a good night, Y/N.”

He begins to walk toward the door, but you reach out, your voice trembling slightly. “But, Hyunjin? What’s wrong?”

Hyunjin stops, his back to you, and for a moment, you can see the conflict warring within him. He turns his head slightly, but the emotion in his eyes is hard to decipher.

"You've...you’ve been spending a lot of time with Han lately.”

You take a deep breath, trying to keep your voice steady. “He’s been coming by the studio more often. We’ve just been working on some ideas together.”

Hyunjin’s jaw tightens, his frustration evident. “I’ve noticed. It’s just—” He stops himself, running a hand through his hair. “Never mind. It’s none of my business who you spend your time with.”

Hyunjin’s frustration is palpable as he crosses his arms, his gaze fixed on the floor. The usually calm and collected friend is now visibly shaken, and the intensity in his voice is unmistakable.

“Hyunjin, what's wrong?” you ask, concern evident in your voice.

Hyunjin looks up, his expression hardening. “Nothing’s wrong,” he says, his voice clipped. “I’ll stop interrupting your time with Han.”

Before you can react, he turns away from you, heading towards the door. The sudden shift in his demeanor makes your heart ache, and you can’t just let him leave like this.

“No, wait!” you call out, rushing to catch up with him. “Hyunjin, please, don’t go. We need to talk about this.”

Hyunjin pauses but doesn’t turn around. “There’s nothing to talk about,” he replies, his tone flat. “I just... need some time alone. It’s better this way.”

You reach out, placing a hand gently on his arm. “Hyunjin, don’t shut me out. We’ve always been able to talk through things. I don’t want to lose our friendship over this.”

Hyunjin stiffens under your touch and then turns to face you, his eyes blazing with an emotion you hadn’t expected. The usually composed and easygoing Hyunjin is now a whirlwind of frustration and jealousy, his features tense and his jaw set tight. The raw intensity in his gaze is something you’ve never seen before — a mix of hurt and anger that makes your heart ache.

You’re taken aback by his intensity. “Han’s just been trying to be friendly and lighten the mood. I didn’t think it was anything more than him wanting to hang out and have a good time.”

“Are you seriously that oblivious?” he snaps, his voice cracking with the weight of his emotions. “I’ve been sitting here, watching him flirt with you, and all you seem to notice is how charming he is.”

Hyunjin’s voice trembles with frustration. “It’s not just about him being friendly! It’s about watching you with someone else, someone who’s clearly interested in you. And while he’s making moves, I’m just supposed to sit here and pretend it doesn’t bother me?”

You feel a pang of guilt, your own emotions a whirlwind of confusion and concern. “Hyunjin, I—”

“Do you really not get it?” he interrupts, his tone harsh and edged. “I’m in love with you, Y/N. I’ve been hiding it for so long, thinking maybe it would go away or that it didn’t matter because we’re friends. But seeing you with Han, seeing how easily he gets to be close to you, it’s like... it’s tearing me apart.”

He stands there, struggling to keep his composure, his breath coming in uneven gasps.

“I... I didn’t know,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “Hyunjin, I never imagined you could feel this way. I thought... I always thought you’d see me as just a friend, nothing more. Why would you ever think that—”

Hyunjin interrupts, his voice strained. “Because you are special to me. I’ve been falling for you for so long, and I’ve been trying to ignore it, hoping it would go away. I’m sorry if I’ve been selfish, but it’s killing me to see you with him when all I want is to be close to you.”

He pauses, taking a deep breath as if bracing himself. “But I’ll give you space since it’s clear the feelings aren’t the same. I’m sorry for bringing this on you.” His voice is barely above a whisper, filled with regret and resignation.

Before you can find the right words to respond, before you can process the whirlwind of emotions, Hyunjin turns abruptly and walks toward the door. His steps are heavy, each one echoing the weight of his confession.

“Hyunjin, wait!” you call out, but he doesn’t turn back. The door closes softly behind him, leaving you alone in the quiet studio, your heart pounding.

You stand there, stunned and at a loss, the room feeling colder and emptier than before. Your heart feels like it’s been shattered. Your vision blurs with tears, and you try to hold them back, but they come uncontrollably. You bite your lip, trying to stifle the sobs that escape.

You’ve been in love with him for as long as you can remember, but you never dared to hope he could feel the same way.Standing there, tears streaming down your face, you clutch the edges of the doorframe, trying to ground yourself.

You take a shaky breath, desperately trying to compose yourself. With trembling hands, you wipe at your tears with the sleeve of your shirt, attempting to pull yourself together.

Summoning all the strength you have left, you push open the door and step out into the dimly lit hallway. The cool air hits your tear-streaked face, but it does little to soothe the turmoil you.

As you open the door, you come face-to-face with Hyunjin, who is standing right outside, as if he was about to come back in. His eyes widen in surprise when he sees you crying, and his expression shifts from pained resignation to a mix of shock and vulnerability.

You both stand there for a moment, the silence thick with unspoken words and raw emotion. Hyunjin's eyes are red-rimmed, and he looks as though he's been caught in a moment of hesitation, his own tears glistening in his eyes.

Hyunjin’s gaze drops, and he looks away, clearly struggling with his emotions. “I was just—” he starts, but his voice falters, and he wipes at his eyes quickly, as if trying to regain his composure.

As you both stand there, Hyunjin's gaze slowly meets yours. There’s a mix of desperation and hope in his eyes, as if he’s grappling with the urge to fix what’s been broken.

His expression softens, and with a trembling breath, he takes a step closer to you. The space between you seems to shrink as he closes the distance, his movements slow and deliberate.

Without a word, Hyunjin gently places his hands on your cheeks, his touch tender and warm. His eyes search yours for a moment longer, as if asking for permission. Then, he leans in, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that is both soft and filled with emotion.

The kiss is hesitant at first, but it deepens as he pulls you closer, his lips moving against yours with a sense of longing and desperation. You can feel the trembling in his hands

As Hyunjin’s kiss deepens, it feels as though time stands still, the world outside the studio fading away. The intensity of the moment pushes you both backward, and with each tender touch of his lips, you find yourselves moving slowly but inevitably back into the studio, the door closing shut behind him.

The kiss continues, now more urgent and passionate, as if he’s trying to pour all the words he can’t express into this one moment.

When the kiss finally breaks, you both stand there, breathless and slightly disheveled, still close together. Hyunjin’s gaze is tender, and he looks at you with a mixture of relief and hope.

"Why me? I don’t get it” you say.

Hyunjin’s smile widens, and he gently wipes away a tear from your cheek. “Why you? Because you’re everything I’ve ever wanted—kind, talented, and absolutely incredible.Because you’re like your art—full of beauty and emotion. Every piece you create reveals a part of you, and I’ve been captivated by that. I’ve been waiting for the right moment to show you just how much you mean to me.”

He kisses you again, this time more desparetly, as if he needs to breathe and your his oxygen.

You can feel his hand slide down your body and he takes your hand in his. You feel your own heart skip a beat, and you can't help but smile as you continue to kiss, as he pushes you back allowing you to sit up on one of the tables in the studio. He takes the opportunity to put his body between your legs. 

His tongue explores your mouth, and you can’t help but respond, your own tongue dueling with his.

You can feel the heat radiating from his body. Your hands reach up to touch his chest, feeling the firm muscles underneath your fingertips, and Hyunjin lets out a low groan, his eyes darkening with desire.

“Fuck, I want you,” he growls, his hand gripping your hip tightly.

You can feel his erection pressing against you, and you moan softly, your own desire building up inside of you.     

You break the kiss, gasping for breath. Hyunjin’s lips trail down your neck, nipping and sucking at your sensitive skin. You arch your back, moaning as his hands roam over your body, cupping your breasts and pinching your nipples through the fabric of your shirt.

“Hyunjin, please,” you beg, your hands tugging at his shirt.He obliges, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it aside. You can’t help but stare at his muscular chest, your fingers tracing the lines of his abs. 

He smiles, looking at you, as if asking for permission with his eyes. You nod and his hands reach towards you to unbutton your shirt. You undo your bra on your own, and together both items fall to the ground. You blush as he stares at you.    

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he murmurs, his hands cupping your breasts and squeezing gently.

You moan, your nipples hardening under his touch. You can feel your wetness soaking through your panties, and you grind your hips against Hyunjin’s. He groans, both hands now gripping your hips tighter.

Hyunjin leans down, taking one of your nipples into his mouth and sucking gently. You try to stifle your moan, your hands gripping his hair as he switches to the other nipple, biting down gently. His lips trail back up to your neck as his hands begin to slide down the sides of your body.

His fingers find their way to your panties.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he growls, his fingers tracing the lines of your panties.

You moan, your hips bucking as his fingers slip under your panties and into your wetness. He strokes your clit, and you cry out, your orgasm building up inside of you. Hyunjin continues to stroke you, his fingers moving faster and faster. His fingers are long and slender, and you can feel them stroking you from the inside.

"Oh g-god, Hyunjin" you say, as he brings you closer and closer to the edge.

"Yeah? Does that feel good baby?" Hearing him call you "baby" sends a flutter through your chest, a warmth spreading in the pit of your stomach. It’s not just the word — it’s the way he says it, soft and full of affection, like it belongs only to you. You’ve heard the word before, but from his lips, it feels different — intimate, tender, and so undeniably right.

Your legs begin to tremble as your orgasm builds. Hyunjin kisses you again, his tongue exploring your mouth as his fingers continue to move inside you.

You break the kiss, gasping for breath. "d-don't stop" you whine. Hyunjin continues to kiss you, swallowing your cries as his pace speeds up. You grab onto Hyunjin's shoulders as you begin to ride his fingers, your body trembling with pleasure. "Fuck, I'm going to cum," you cry, as your orgasm approaches.

"Not yet," he whispers and you feel as he pulls his fingers out of you. "I want your cum on my cock."

You blush, as his hands reach down to unbutton his pants. He pushes his pants and boxers down in one swift motion. His erection springs free, and you can’t help but stare at it.

 “Do you want this?” he asks, his hand wrapping around his cock and stroking it slowly.

    You nod, your hand reaching out to touch him. Hyunjin groans, his hips thrusting forward as your hand wraps around his cock. You stroke him slowly, matching his rhythm. You pressed your thumb down onto his dripping red tip, and you could hear him whine.

   “Fuck, that feels good,” he says as he slowly spread open your legs. He pushes you back a little to line his tip up to your entrance.

"You ready for me?" he asks, teasingly.

"Please," you reply, desperately.

He pushes in, his cock stretching you open as he enters you. You moan, your hands gripping his arms as he begins to move, thrusting slowly at first.

"Please, Hyunjin, please." You begged, as your eyes closed from the pleasure.

"God, you're so tight," he groans, his hands gripping your hips, pulling out slowly before thrusting back in, back out, and back in again.

and he feels SO good.

And then he stops..... while still inside you.

Confused, you open your eyes to see a frozen Hyunjin. “What’s wrong?” you ask.

“I-I...." he stutters. Hyunjin’s face pales as his eyes dart nervously to the canvas behind you. "I spilled paint,” he says, gesturing to the canvas behind you. He hesitates, rubbing the back of his neck, visibly distressed. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I know you worked so hard on it, and I just... ruined it.” His voice breaks slightly, and he looks away, unable to meet your gaze.

You look at the canvas, your heart sinking a little. The once vibrant colors you’d carefully layered over days of meticulous work are now smeared and distorted by splashes of dark paint. What was supposed to be a serene landscape, full of soft pastels and warm hues, is now marred by streaks of harsh, misplaced colors running down the surface.

"It was perfect, and I ruined it," he whispers, his voice thick with regret. "I know how much this meant to you."

Hyunjin’s hand is covered in streaks of dark paint from knocking over the paint, and you can see how the paint has seeped into the creases of his hands, clinging to him like guilt.

He stares at his hand, then back at the ruined painting, shaking his head. "I should’ve been more careful," he mutters, his voice barely above a whisper. "Look at this... I can't believe I did this to your work."

He looks up, shocked. "Y/N..."

"Hyunjin," you say. "It's okay. It's just paint."

"But..." he starts.

You cut him off with a kiss. "I'd rather have you than the painting," you whisper. "Besides I think your art is prettier than mine."

"You...you do?"

"Mmhm," You say nodding your head."Besides....I always said I wanted you to paint me one day..."

" You want me to paint you?"

You answer his question by moving his paint coated hands together and placing them both on your chest, leaving his paint handprints right on you.

You've never done anything like this before, but the idea of being so intimate with Hyunjin is incredibly arousing.

   You gasp at the sensation, your body trembling with desire. Hyunjin's touch is electric, and you can't help but moan as he continues to explore your body with his fingers. He moves one of his hands and traces a finger over your collarbone, leaving a trail of paint in its wake.

You feel as he begins to thrust into you again.

Your eyes close from the pleasure, and you moan as his cock fills you completely.

"Oh fuck," you say, your voice cracking. You feel Hyunjin's pace quicken as his cock continues to pound into you. His hands roam, allowing more paint to make its way onto your body. You place your hands into an open yellow and purple paint nearby and place your hands on his chest, covering him with paint as well.

"Oh fuck," Hyunjin growls, his voice hoarse with lust. He grabs you by the hips, and lifts you off the table.

"Wrap your legs around me," he says.

You do as he asks, wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him closer. His cock is still buried deep inside you, and the new angle sends shivers of pleasure through your body.

"That's it," he says, his voice husky. "Hold on tight."

He begins to move again, his pace quickening as he pounds into you, his cock hitting just the right spot inside you.

You cling to him, your arms wrapped around his neck and your face buried in his shoulder. You can't help but cry out as your orgasm approaches.

"Oh god, Hyunjin," you cry, your body trembling. "I'm gonna come."

"Yeah?" he says. "Me too."

His thrusts become faster, harder, as he pounds into you. Your cries echo in the room, and you feel him throb inside you.

"Come for me, Y/N," he growls.

"Oh god, Hyunjin," you cry, as your orgasm hits, your nails digging into his shoulders. He continues to thrust into you, drawing out your pleasure. You cling to him, your body shaking as the waves of pleasure wash over you.

"Fuck," Hyunjin groans, as he comes, his cock pulsing inside you, completing the masterpiece by painting your walls.

    When you finally come down from your orgasm, you look down at Hyunjin and see that he's covered in paint. His face, his hair, and even his clothes are covered in a rainbow of colors.

    You can't help but laugh at the sight, and Hyunjin joins in your laughter.

"You look beautiful," he says with a soft smile, his eyes tracing your features. "Like a work of art. Something I'd spend hours admiring, and still, it wouldn't be enough." He places you back down on the table and pulls you into a tight embrace, and you can feel the warmth of his body against yours.

    The two of you stay there for a moment, wrapped in each other's arms, before you finally break away.

    "We should.... clean up," you say, gesturing to the paint that's covering both of your bodies.

    Hyunjin nods in agreement, but neither of you move.

Instead, he leans in and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.

"We'll get cleaned up soon," he says, his voice soft and tender.

"Right now, I just want to hold you."

You smile, a wave of happiness washing over you. "I'd like that," you say, nuzzling against his chest.

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[aces-and-angels]

verified by 90-ghost follow asmaa @asmaayyad & on instagram (asmaa_ayyad98)

moots/lovely lurkers- lend me your ears (or eyes- y'all get it) and allow asmaa to introduce herself in her own words:

"hello I hope my message reaches you well i am asmaa ayyad from gaza, specifically khan yunis, i am 25 years old, i am trying to save me and my family from the war of extermination that is happening now (a/n: asmaa graduated from the university of palestine in 2021 and went on to study/train to become a practicing lawyer) we lost our home, our friends and some of our relatives, I have also been living far away from my fiancé for two years, I cannot reach him because of the increase in the coordination price and the closure of the crossings and borders (a/n: asmaa lists feras_lbrahim in her insta bio as her fiancé) please i want you to help me by publishing for me and standing by my side, as i am now struggling alone to save an entire family i wanted to contact @/90-ghost but he does not respond to me (a/n: since asmaa sent me this message, 90-ghost has been able to get in touch/share her posts) i would be very grateful to you if you helped me"

asmaa's family consists of 8 members- all of whom led beautiful lives prior to the war. asmaa's older brother, dia, was looking forward to his own wedding. instead of experiencing such a joyous day, his life was shattered after his home was destroyed by the israeli army.

to lose a home- all your valuable possessions- your memories- in an instant is something that cannot be fully understood unless you've gone through it yourself. in asmaa's own words (read & share full post here):

"in addition to the pain, oppression and suffering that displacement causes us, there is a material aspect that no one talks about or mentions or mentions in the media. every place we move from to a new place requires transportation from 1,500 to 2,000 shekels... and despite this amount, you cannot transport all your belongings. this is in addition to the costs of setting up the tent again and trying to return what you lost of your things and belongings. displacement kills us more than death, it drains our health, our money and everything we own... displacement is another war that is harsher than this war of starvation and extermination... displacement is a hidden killer. how many people have been martyred because they do not have the price of displacement? the price that saves them from death! how many people have lost their dignity because of it?! oh god, have mercy on us and our situation 🙏💔"

asmaa's family has already lost so much- friends, loved ones, their cat, timur. they are living in a nightmare they cannot wake up from. the decision to evacuate is not an easy one to make nor is it one for the rest of us to scrutinize. it's what asmaa + her family have decided is the best path forward

please support my friend however you can-- the smallest actions can make the biggest impact

if all you can do is share- then share. follow asmaa to get the most up to date news regarding her family. tell someone you know about asmaa's story. allow others who may be able to contribute more find asmaa so her family may get to safety

and if you can give little more, please visit the link below 🖤

cw: photos of destroyed buildings + deceased cat (timur) included in the campaign

[bluetimeombre]

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ I could've lost you

After a particularly harrowing mission, Logan can't let you go.

(I was going through my drafts and I found this that I never posted?! Like, wtf. It’s short but it’s something to be out there as I slowly return to my Marvel era, it feels magical. It’s short, it’s not proof read but it’s yours. I hope you like!)

Tw: mention of injury, child death, suggestive but not smut,

⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━━━⊱༒︎ • ༒︎⊰━━━━ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ━━

The jet landed on the grounds, Charles, Ororo, Scott and Logan waiting. It was supposed to be an easy thing, checking a factory, finding mutants, but you and Jean- the most powerful of mutants- were outnumbered, hurt.

Ororo was first at the steps. Logan couldn't find his feet to rush to you. His brain screamed go, go, go but he froze. What if you need him and was froze?

Jean stumbled out first, her head wrapped up. He watched as Scott ran to her, catching her in his arms, kissing her head and rubbing her back, soothing her and loving her slogan should you!

They didn't spare him a glance as they walked by him, even as he watched them, begging silently to have you in his arms.

Logan looked back to the jet. Where were you? 'Y/N!' Finally he managed to find his feet and used them to carry him up the stairs. 'Y/n?' he could hear his own voice, fragile and afraid. He'd heard you on the comms, you were shaky but alive.

Why couldn't he see you?

'Logan?'

He whipped around.

You were curled up in a corner, knees to your chest.

Logan crouched and approached you the way one would approach a snarling animal. He crawled to you, fingers tracing the leather on your knee before cupping it and squeezing. 'Hey, you had me worried.' He smiled at you, to show everything was alright.

You glanced up, the circles under your eyes were pronounced like dark moons. You skin was pale, your hands trembling. 'Logan?'

He smiled, hand cupping the back of your neck and soothing his thumb over the shivering skin. 'Hi baby.'

You lips tilted into something like a smile. 'Bad mission.'

'I know, bub, I know,' he soothed, bringing you close to press a kiss to your head. 'Are you hurt?'

'My head,' you mumble.

Gently, Logan takes your cheeks in hand and turns you side to side, trying to find any blood or a source of the bleeding. There was nothing. He concluded you had a headache which he’d get you checked on eventually.

'What do you want, bub?' he tucked strands of your hair behind your ear.

You smiled up at him, life blooming in your cheeks. 'A bath. Bed. You.'

He chuckled and kissed your lips. They were dry and rough but yours. 'That, I can do.'

Logan had ran a bath for you and striped you from your leathers. He watched as you settled under the bubbles, moaning at the feel of the water just as you like it. Heck, he'd put those petals in just so you'd smell good and feel relaxed.

Logan knew you. Everything about you. And if you were sad, even for a fraction of a second, he'd spend all day making you smile, he’d do anything to make you happy.

He was kneeling next to the tub, watching you bathe with a gaze similar to stars in his eyes. Watching the rise and fall of your chest and how your eyes closed in peace, he felt peace himself. His fingers would dip into the water, sending ripples but he hadn’t joined you… yet.

'You're staring,' you whisper, peeking one eye open to look at him. Strands of your hair stuck to your skin.

'You're so beautiful,' he replied. 'I don't tell you that enough.'

You roll your head to stare at him. 'You tell me everyday.'

'Not enough,' he smiled softly. The kind of smile only you brought out in him. 'Wanna talk about the mission?'

He knew you'd tell if you wanted to. It was the sort of way you could coax anything from him. When he'd had a tough day you'd be there just as he needed. He took anger out, pushing you into the bed and moaning at your pleasure. But this, watching you find peace, offered him just as much pleasure.

You wrap your fingers around his wrist, counting the beats of his pulse. ‘I was afraid,' you whispered.

Logan stared and waited for more.

You'd never admitted to being afraid before.

'We'd only see two kids. Dead. They'd been shot in... Cryo sleep or something. But Jean, something hurt her and I stayed, tried to help her out but it was so dark and there was screaming. I-I think children were dying.'

'There was nothing you could have done,' Logan said. He didn't need to know more. You made it home safe, selfishly to him, that's all that mattered.

'I could've helped them, Jean told me to but I- I wanted to save her. For myself. For Scott- I dunno,' you continued. 'I put her in the jet and I went back but-'

He wanted to critique you for going alone, but he'd do that later.

You looked at him, hoping to find judgment, to know that what you did was wrong, but you only found his soft gaze. 'The children were gone. It was so dark and I-I was so afraid. Afraid i'd never see you again. That if I didn't get back, that'd be it. And I- I couldn't, I-'

Logan took your head and pulled it into his chest. He let you hear the steady thump of his heart, let you wet his shirt from the bath and from tears. 'I'm glad the fear brought you home.'

You looked up at him, frowning.

Logan dragged his thumb over your bottom lip. 'I want to let the world burn if it means you come back to me. I'd let the whole fucking universe go to see you for one more day. If you were afraid in there and that brought you to me then be afraid all the time. Y/n, I can't live without you. And i'm never gonna you hear me?'

'Logan, our job-' you start.

'Our job is too each other, isn't that what we promised?' he said.

You smiled at the memory. There was no golden band on his finger but there was the promise the two of you had made together. The promise that before being mutants came your love for each other.

'You come before everything, and everyone,' he added.

'I could've saved them,' you mutter, shaking your head and averting your gaze.

The water sloshed as he got closer to you, arms holding you. His shirt was slowly splashing with the disturbance he was causing. 'Then I would've been lost. You'd be dead and you'd have taken me with you.'

A tear slid down your cheek and he collected it with a kiss.

'You and me till the end, baby.'

His lips walked the path he'd created over your skin. From your cheek to your jaw to your lips. His tongue ran along your lips, darting in to feel you alive and with him.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, bringing him in. He shuddered at the water that ran down his neck but trembled at your kiss. 'I need you, Lo.'

'I know, baby,' he mumbled. He pecked your lips, and each cheek, where he felt your pulse in your neck and then brought himself back to you.

You pulled him into the bath, the water sloshing over as he fell in. His beater stuck to him and his jeans soaked up the bath. But you laughed and he watched you, adoringly.

'Trouble,' he mumbled before squeezing your neck and bringing you into his body, relishing in the feeling of you bending under his body, of your finger skirting his stomach as you peeled his shirt from him and tossed it, letting it splat somewhere.

'Charles is going to be so mad we flooded the bathroom again,' you giggled.

Logan pulled back, licking your bottom lip. 'Don't mention Chuck when i'm about to make love to you baby.'

And he kissed you and drank the water from your skin and vowed to love you forever.

[shelbgrey]

hi!! could u do mark sloan smut? like drunken sex after a long day at the hospital? thank u !

So, we meet again(Mark Sloan)

Paring: Mark Sloan x ex-wife!reader, cheater!Preston Burke x reader.

Summary: The story of two people that always seemed to find their way back to each other. Mark and y/n devorced after he cheated on her with Addison. Y/n moved to Seattle with Derek to start a new life. She starts dating Preston Burke. When Mark comes back, him and his ex-wife don't go down the same road Derek and Addison did, but instead decide to be petty and attack each other in the most childish ways. Mark still loves her though and knows she can do better than someone like Burke and would do anything to get her back. But what happens when she gets cheated on again and a bottle of grown up juice leads her back to the arms of her ex-husband.

Warrings: SMUT, alcohol, enemies back to lovers, unprotected sex, drunk sex, ex husband and wife, Burke cheating, riding.

MasterList ML2

“And bein' apart ain't easy on this love affair

Two strangers learn to fall in love again

I get the joy of rediscovering you”

She hated how everything reminded her of him, even though she was far away from New York and her name was no longer Sloan, There were still small and big triggers that made his face pop in her mind. Y/n and Derek had this case. A 15 year old named Jake Burton, he had advanced craniodiaphyseal dysplasia. Now, naturally y/n was on this case because she specialized in pediatric surgery, but a case like this you'd need a plastic surgeon as well. 

The hospital didn't have a plastic surgeon who took advanced cases like this, so naturally Webber called Mark. Weber had a thing about bringing ex wives and husbands to Seattle lately. 

“Invasive non-cell. With a history of COPD” Mark said, reading over my shoulder. “That guy's pretty much a goner, huh?”

Y/n sighed, she hated having him here. What she hated most of all was how her heart rate picked up just because of how close he was to her. It was so sickeningly nostalgic, his body being only a hair away from hers and his breath on her neck. She ignored it, she had too. She wasn't gonna fall for it again. 

“nice to see you still haven't lost your sensitivity” y/n said sarcastically, not looking up from the computer. 

“hard to be sensitive, all this rain gets a guy down” 

“Well too bad you won't be here long enough to get used to it” she said, grabbing the chart and walking away. 

Mark followed after y/n as she walked down the hall. He knew he shouldn’t be following her, hell she probably didn’t even want him talking to her but he couldn’t help himself. Y/n looked so good, even though she was still pissed at him. The way her hips swayed while she walked, her hair in a tight bun, he always preferred her with her hair down. “I think I could get used to the rain before getting used to your name not being Sloan. I actually asked for y/n Sloan”

“You knew I changed my name after the divorce”

Mark watched as she walked, his eyes traveling up and down her body. He always thought she was beautiful, her curves, her eyes, those soft lips…he had to force his mind to stop going there, especially after all that he put her through. “You look good” 

“Can't help yourself, can you?” she rolled her eyes.

Mark smirked as she spoke, his eyes drifting down her body again before he finally looked away. “Old habits die hard”

“Too bad it's your worst ones”

Mark chuckled again, that little smile still on his lips. “Don’t you remember the good habits?”

Y/n did, of course she remembered his good habits. The way he never failed to make her laugh, the way he'd hold her if she was scared or hurting. Y/n remembered he'd cook an amazing meal if she was sad or not feeling up to cooking. In the years they were together he would put her before him, at least that's what it felt like. 

She still felt betrayed and all the good memories didn't seem so good now, because now she knew what was happening in between all those good moments. “What good habits?” she finally said. 

Mark looked down at the ground for a moment, his mind also wondering to the good parts of their past. He smiled as he remembered when they first started dating. The dates, the way everything seemed so perfect…the way she laughed at his terrible jokes, how she'd fall asleep tucked under his arm in bed, how soft she always felt against him. 

After a beat of silence, y/n sighed. “Let's just get this case done”

~~~~~~~~(.......)~~~~~~~~

The day was dragging on, we had just convened Jake Burton's parents to let us do the surgery. Mark and Derek were going at it in Webber's office about it for ten minutes. Y/n just wanted to be done for the day, but she still had the rest of the day and Jake's surgery. While Mark was getting a consult, y/n went to take her break in a on-call room. She had half a mind to maybe find her boyfriend if he wasn't busy. Y/n made it an on-call room and she stopped in her tracks. all she saw was her new boyfriend making out with Christina yang.

She stood there shocked and found herself feeling more frustrated than heart broken. Y/n's been through this before, but it wasn't like a painful act of Déjà vu. Seeing him pinning a bitch like Christina yang to the wall made her blood boil, why did it have to be her? Why did she have to be with him shirtless, sticking her tongue down his throat? 

Preston saw you. He quickly pushed Christina off of him and approached her. “I can explain-”

“Really?!” y/n said sarcastically, rolling her eyes. She slammed the on-call room closed, loud enough to make Christina jump and a couple of nurses to look up from the nurses station. The door slammed shut with Preston and Christina still in the room and y/n walked away. 

“God dammit” Preston pushed Christina to the side and ran after y/n. After the scene she caused, the last thing he wanted was her making a spectacle of herself. He caught up to her in the hall.“y/n, don't walk away, let me explain!”

Y/n immediately stopped in her tracks and turned to him. “alright, genius,” she snapped. “Let's hear it, let's hear the explanation”

He let out a sigh before speaking, his voice quiet. “I...I care for you. I truly do. I can't deny that, but” He looked away for a moment, seemingly trying to find the right thing to say. “I've been seeing her on the side.  For a little while now”

“Yeah, no shit!” y/n snapped. She recognized the sighs, this wasn't her first rodeo. She suspected something, but didn't want to believe it. She wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt and not let her insecurities and paranoia get in the way of her being happy. Today only confirmed her suspension. She was hurt, but she found herself not feeling as hurt as she was when Mark cheated. She blamed herself this time, she knew she couldn't trust him. 

Preston sighed again, running a hand through his hair as he leaned against the wall. He wasn't ready to lose her, not like this. He hated the fact that he was cheating, he promised her he wouldn't. But he could explain why he did what he did. “Can we talk about this somewhere else? Please. I don't want the whole damn hospital to hear us”

“Why bother, they all find out anyway” y/n held her arms out sarcastically, looking around the hospital. 

Preston took her hand and pulled her into an empty room, away from the prying eyes of the others.  He was desperate to explain. “Because you are everything I need. Smart. Confident. Talented. Beautiful,” He caressed her cheek gently, trying to soothe her. “But, she's fun. She's like me. We understand each other”

Y/n pushed his hand away from her cheek. “good. You can have her” she snapped. 

His eyes widened at her response. “No, I don't want her. I want you. Christ, I don't know why I keep going to her. She understands me in ways you don't” He let out a frustrated sigh, the realization of how horrible this must feel to her fully setting in now.

“I'm sure she does” y/n rolled her eyes, shaking her head.

Christina doesn't understand him, the only thing they have income is their ego and they both think they are God's gifts to medicine. Not to mention he wanted a family and kids, Christian yang was disgusted by all of that. She sighed, running her fingers through her hair in frustration. 

Preston could see the hurt in her eyes and it made him feel like crap. He just had to come clean about why he continued seeing Christina. He looked at her with a saddened expression as he exhaled through his nose. “She's...more like me. Her and I can talk about surgery all night and never get bored.  She gets it. She's intense”

“I think our relationship just ended,” y/n said softly. 

Hearing those words made his heart sink. His head fell forward in defeat, not wanting to accept the truth behind what she said. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to remain calm and collected. It's not like he didn't deserve this; he cheated on her, after all. After a few seconds, he looked up at her. “You're...breaking up with me?”

“I am” she mumbled. 

Preston nodded slowly, taking in what she said. He understood why she was breaking up with him; it was warranted. It didn't make the hurt he was feeling any better though. “I...I understand,” he reached for her hand again, gently holding it. “I'll always care for you, you know that, right?”

“Y-yeah” 

Y/n let go of his hand and walked away, she didn't know rather to laugh or cry. She also didn't know why it… she wasn't hurting? Walking in on Mark and Addison having sex hurt way worse than this. Y/n was more shocked I supposed, Preston seemed to be the last person that would cheat. He was level head, and romantic, way too mature. Cheating didn't seem to be his style. 

~~~~~~~~(.......)~~~~~~~~

Today just sucked. Jake Burton was a sweet kid and just wanted to look normal, y/n knew Derek and Mark did everything they could, but it still hurt to see the kid go. After her shift ended she got ready to go home, it was the first time in months she was walking alone. Y/n would usually stay at Preston's place or he'd stay at hers. Thank God they haven't moved in together yet. 

The elevator that went down to the front entrance opened. Y/n looked up and saw both Mark and Preston in the elevator. She rolled her eyes, too tired for this shit. “I'll take the stairs” she mumbled and turned the opposite direction before either one of them could stop her. 

Instead of home, y/n found herself across the street in Joe's bar. She had been there before with her friends but never brought herself to drink. It just wasn't her style, but tonight all she wanted was a strong drink. 

“How many of those have you had?” Mark said, coming up to her an hour later. 

Y/n turned to him, she was tipsy, but not drunk yet. She pointed at him. “Shut it. You have no room to judge” 

Mark's lips curled into a smirk. “Maybe, but I have room to drink with you” he sat down next to her and brought the glass she had to his lips and sipped her drink. It was scotch, it was the only thing she probably knew to order since that was the only thing Mark drank around her. 

“Be my guest” she rolled her eyes. “don't get a say in anything around here anyway”

“Scotch, please and another for her too” Mark nodded to Joe. Joe brought two glasses and y/n took a drink immediately. “I drove you to drink, Jesus Christ” 

Y/n tilted her head back and downed the alcohol. She slammed the glass down, The alcohol making her head spin. “Hey, don't take full credit… That fucking heart surgeon helped” 

“Yeah, I heard. I'm sorry” Mark said genuinely, downing the rest of his scotch too. Mark hated she heart was broken. He wanted to kill Preston Burke, he didn't deserve her. 

“I don't care. That cunt Christina yang can have him. He had stick up his ass anyway” y/n rolled her eyes. She turned to Joe. “Joe, can we have shots please!” 

“So you're a no filter drunk” Mark chuckled, he had always seen y/n as strong. But seeing her tipsy and almost drunk was new territory. It was a little amusing. He sipped his drink and chuckled. And she was still so damn beautiful to him. “never saw the day we'd be drinking together”

“Don't get used to it,” she threw back the shot and started coughing. “That's so nasty” she cringed. 

Mark sat his glass down and chuckled again. He loved seeing that cute crinkled nose whenever she drank. “you have no idea how hilarious it is for me to see you drink”

“Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up” she mumbled, taking his glass of scotch and finished it for him. “fuckin' man whore” She mumbled into the glass. 

That was a new one for Mark. Sure, he got that insult a lot but never from y/n, even after the divorce. He smirked, taking his glass away from her. “What was that?”

Y/n looked over at him, you could tell she was drunk just by looking at her eyes. “Man. whore” she repeated. 

Mark raised an eyebrow at her. There was definitely a hint of anger in her eyes. He liked it much more than he thought he would. He put his glass down, pushing his chair closer so that his knee was in between hers. “You really have a way with words tonight” he teased. 

“Just shut up and drink with me,” She mumbled. “before I punch you in your pretty face” she trailed off. 

Mark chuckled again. “Did you just call me pretty?” He teased taking the drink from her and setting it down. He took her chin between his fingers, forcing her to look up at him. 

Y/n rolled her eyes. “Don't let it go to your head” 

Mark smirked, his thumb tracing her parted lips. His body was so close she could feel the tension. Mark's cologne filling her nose. “you want me to stop?” 

Her heart skipped a beat. God, she didn't realize how much she missed the smell of that cologne, missed the feel of him this close. She shook her hand no. 

Mark smiled even wider. That little nod sent a bolt of electricity through his body. He knew she still wanted him. He was so close already, one more nudge and he could finally taste her again. his hand slid up her jaw to her cheek. His thumb brushed over her cheek bone. 

Y/n rolled her eyes. “Are you gonna kiss me or not?”

Mark laughed lightly before closing the distance between them. She felt warm and familiar. Mark's lips met hers and his body melted into hers. After all these months he finally had it. A small moan escaped his lips. He hadn't realized how much he actually missed it. Her lips moved against his, her breath hitched as she carded her fingers through his hair, kissing him roughly. Mark let his tongue part her lips more. Taking full control over the kiss. He pressed his entire body against hers, trying to get as close as he could. His hands found her hips and pulled her body so she was practically in his lap. The smell of her hair filled his nose.

Y/n pulled away abruptly. “Take me home with you”

Mark looked into her eyes. They were dilated and filled with lust. He hadn’t seen those eyes in so long. It made him want her even more. Mark nodded as he reached for his wallet pulling out the money to pay the bill. He stood up, holding his hand out for her. “Come on” He murmured, grabbing her hand and almost dragging her out of the bar. 

~~~~~~~~(.......)~~~~~~~~

As soon as they got to Mark's apartment, her lips were back on his, the kiss was messy and rushed. Y/n quickly pushed his leather jacket off his shoulders as he pushed her backwards towards the kitchen counter. she moaned against his lips, running her fingers through his hair. Getting them lost in his soft hair. 

He chuckled, his hand leaving his jacket to grab her hair, tugging gently as he pulls back from the kiss. “Fuck, I love when you do that” He leans in again, kissing her roughly as he walks her backwards until her back hits the counter.

Y/n moaned, pulling away from the kiss and left messy kisses and love bites down his neck. He groans in pleasure as he feels her teeth marks on his neck. He sets her down on the counter, stepping between her legs as he leans in to kiss her again, his hands gripping her face. “You're gonna leave marks all over me, aren't you?” He murmurs against her lips.

“maybe”

He grins, his eyes darkening with desire as he reaches up to grab the back of her head, holding her in place as he kisses her again, his tongue pushing past her lips. she moaned against his lips, their tongues tangling together roughly as her hands traveled to the buttons of his shirt and tugged them open. He breaks the kiss only long enough to pull his shirt over his head, revealing his toned chest. He goes back to kissing her, his hands roaming down her sides. “You're overdressed”

Y/n’s eyes traveled down his toned chest. She'll never get tired of staring at him, he was perfect in every way. Her fingers trailed down his chest, tracing every muscle. “do something about it”

His breath hitches at her touch, and he quickly moves his hands to the hem of her dress, slowly sliding it up her thighs. “I thought you'd never ask,” He kisses her neck, carefully pulling the dress higher as he moves his lips lower. “Missed this” 

“M-me too” she said softly, tugging at his hair he inhales deeply as he buries his face between her breasts, his hands squeezing her thighs possessively. He slowly drags his fingers up her thighs, hooking them around his arms as he tries to pull her legs around his waist. “Damn it”

“I forgot how good you feel” y/n moaned softly at the feeling of his facial hair brushing over the skin on her breasts. She wrapped her legs around his waist and gripped the muscles on his biceps. 

His eyes darken with lust as he grabs her waist, one hand trailing up her back to tangle in her hair. He kisses her roughly, biting her bottom lip before pulling back slightly to look at her. “Better than good, baby” He starts to carry her towards the bedroom. 

He kicks the door to his bedroom open, stumbling inside with her legs wrapped tightly around his waist. He falls backwards onto the bed, pulling her on top of him as he starts to unhook her dress. “Fuck this dress is cute” 

He quickly removes her dress, tossing it aside as he takes in her appearance. He groans appreciatively, running his hands up her sides and over her ribcage possessively. “Damn” He murmurs, his eyes roaming over her. 

she reaches for his belt, quickly unbuckling it and tugging it out of the loops of his pants. His abs tense under her touch as she unbuckles his belt, his hands going to her waist to help pull her closer as he lifts his hips to help her remove his pants. He's only wearing a pair of black boxers now, his toned stomach on full display. 

her breath hitched as she took him in again for the first time in a long time. She sat in his lap, nothing covering her but her bra and painties as her fingers brushed over his hot skin. 

He lets out a low growl, his hands going to her hips as he pulls her closer, his boxers the only thing separating them. He leans in to kiss her, his lips hard against hers as he grinds his hips up against hers. “Fuck, I missed this” 

she moaned against his lips as his hardened cock pressed against her clothed core. “M-me too” 

His hands go to her back, unhooking her bra with expert precision. He breaks the kiss to look at her, his eyes darkening with lust as he takes in her nearly nude form. He hooks his fingers in the waistband of her panties. He slowly drags them down her legs, tossing them aside as he spreads her thighs to rest over his. He runs his hands up her thighs possessively as he looks her over, his boxers the only thing left between them. 

“Please” she moaned softly.

He smiles, his eyes gleaming with lust as he reaches between them to rub his boxers-clad erection against her clothed core. “Please what, baby? You gonna ask me to fuck you? Because if you are, the answer is hell fucking yes”

“Yes,” she said breathlessly. “please fuck me” 

With one quick motion, he slides his boxers off and positions himself at her entrance. “You sure about that baby? No turning back once I start,” He teases her, pressing against her but not quite entering. “Last chance” His voice is husky and deep from desire. 

“Don't stop! Fuck me!” 

With a final growl, he thrusts into her slowly but firmly, filling her completely. One hand grabs her hip while the other moves to cup the back of her neck, pulling her face to his for a passionate kiss. “Missed this.so fucking much”

“Mark!” she cried out as she dug her nails into his shoulders as he thrusted up inside her. 

He quickly lifts her up and pushes her into the mattress. He pounds into her hard and fast, not holding back as he wraps his arms around her, pulling her legs over his shoulders to get even deeper. He grins mischievously, his voice low and dominant. “Shut up and hold on, baby” 

she shuddered, wrapping her legs around his waist and gripped his biceps tighter. He continues to thrust into her aggressively, his body glistening with sweat as he uses his powerful arms to keep her in place. He nuzzles his face between her breasts, inhaling her scent deeply. “Damn it, you always make me lose control”

“Mark!” 

His pace quickens, hitting that spot deep inside her just right. One hand slips between them to apply pressure to her clit, knowing exactly how she likes it. “Cum for me, baby, show me how much you missed me” 

the knot in her stomach snapped, making her head fall back in pleasure. She cried out his name as her orgasm washed over her. She squeezed his biceps, desperately trying to ground herself. It felt so good, so intense, sex hadn't felt this good in a long time. Seeing stars behind his eyes from how hard he's squeezing her legs, he continues to thrust into her through her entire release. He's not done yet, not by a long shot. He wraps his arms around her waist and flips them over, so she's on top.

she wobbled a bit at the sudden change of position. She was out of breath and her mind was still fuzzy. She gripped his chest, trying to stay up right. “Look at me” He demands, his hands tightening on her hips. He wants to see her face as he brings her back down to earth, shaking and overwhelmed. He continues to guide her up and down his length, his legs hooking hers to keep her upright.

she moaned and gasped, looking into his eyes. His jaw clenches as he watches her above him, their bodies creating perfect friction. He reaches up to pull her down for a rough kiss, his hands sliding up to cup her breasts. “Fuck, I'm not going to last” His movements become more erratic, showing he's losing control.

“I need to cum again!” 

At her words, he flips them back over, slamming into her harder than before. He leans down to bite and suck at her neck, marking her. “Cum with me, baby. Right fucking now!” 

With a fierce growl, he thrusts into her one last time, burying himself deep as they both reach their climax together. He collapses slightly onto her chest, keeping most of his weight off despite their sweat-slicked bodies. “Holy shit, missed you so fucking much”

“Missed you too” she said softly and breathlessly. 

He nuzzles his face between her breasts, inhaling her scent deeply. He can feel his heart racing, trying to catch his breath. He wraps his arms around her waist possessively, not wanting to move or break the moment. “Stay, please” he murmurs, his voice muffled.

“I'll stay” she said softly, hoping it wouldn't be a bad idea.