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#i will get through this it won’t last forever i will get through it somehow lol because i have no other choice lmao
weedstop · 1 year
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at least im finally home from running errands (thank god for food stamps) and i cleaned up my room and cleaned out my fridge a little and now i get to just lay down and do nothing
maybe i need to take a little kratom. that’s all i have to take the edge off. i’m a mess mentally. wtf is my life rn? wtf is my life rn. wtf is my life rn lol
when everything’s already weird and bad and then you get your period. Who decided this was allowed? My hormones are trying to kill me
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starrystevie · 6 months
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“i must have been real sweet on you,” eddie murmurs as he runs his fingers over his husband’s cheek, sleepy and sated, warm in their bed. 
steve chuckles, twisting his head to catch the tips of eddie’s fingers with a kiss. “why are you talking past tense? you’re not sweet on me now?”
the room is peacefully still. years of baby monitors are long gone only to inevitably give way to their daughter’s teenage years of slamming doors and too loud stereo speakers. but in this moment, with the pale moonlight streaming in through the windows and crickets chirping in the distance, the room is peaceful, thick with love. 
“quit your pouting, ‘course i’m sweet on you now.” eddie wipes away steve’s fake frown with a kiss, turning it into a sticky sweet grin. “it’s just something my mom used to tell me. that freckles are all the places your soulmate in a past life kissed you.”
eddie pushes steve back so he’s laying flat on the mattress and dips his head to press featherlight kisses on the side of his neck. across his shoulders. over his cheeks. his fingertips flutter over the spots afterwards, leaving goosebumps in their wake despite the heat radiating between them. 
“must have loved you a whole lot in our last lives to leave so many on you now,” eddie whispers, pulling back to stroke the back of his hand over steve’s face once more, letting his lips curl up in a dopey half smile that only steve ever gets to see. 
it doesn’t take long for steve to tilt his head up and press kisses of his own where he can; under eddie’s eye, the bottom of his chin, right over his heart. it doesn’t take long for eddie to giggle as his sensitive spots are found and attacked with ticklish kisses and fluttering eyelashes. it doesn’t take long for their legs to tangle together underneath the sheets and their breaths to get caught in their chests and their hearts to start beating a beautiful melody of their own making. 
steve lays a firm kiss to the side of eddie’s chest, over jagged white scarring and half bitten away tattoos. over memories that somehow don’t haunt them as much anymore. 
“what was that one for?” eddie asks, eyes half lidded, the adoration in his voice loud across the quiet room. 
another kiss on another scar. “wanna give you some freckles. for your next life and for this one, too. so you know just how sweet on you I am-” kiss, “ -and was-” kiss, “- and forever will be.”
they won’t know for however many more years if it worked or not. but here in this lifetime, they have all the time in the world to try their damndest to make sure it does. in this lifetime, they don’t have to worry, because they know they’ll  find each other in the next one. 
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pucksandpower · 4 months
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Going Once, Going Twice
Charles Leclerc x Red Bull engineer!Reader
Summary: getting roped into participating in a charity date auction changes your life forever
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The lights in the grand ballroom dim as a spotlight illuminates the stage. The Master of Ceremonies, wearing an impeccably tailored tuxedo, steps up to the microphone.
“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen!” His voice booms through the speakers. “Welcome to the 12th Annual Amber Lounge F1 Charity Date Auction!”
The crowd erupts into raucous applause. You clap politely from your seat near the back of the room, shrouded in shadows.
“As always, we have an exciting lineup of eligible bachelors and bachelorettes from the Formula 1 paddock, ready to be auctioned off for a romantic date in support of disadvantaged children everywhere.”
More applause.
“But before we bring out our first participant, allow me to go over some ground rules.” The MC adopts a mock-stern tone. “Winners of each date are required to adhere to Amber Lounge’s code of conduct. That means hands to yourself at all times-” A few hoots and hollers from the audience. The MC wags his finger. “Ah ah ah, none of that now! This is for charity, ladies and gentlemen. Let’s keep it classy.”
You stifle a yawn. You’ve attended this auction for the past five years as a guest of Red Bull Racing, where you work as a race engineer. And every year it’s the same — watch your drunk colleagues get leered at by moneyed Formula 1 fans willing to pay exorbitant sums for bragging rights.
No thank you. You always politely decline the organizers’ requests for you to participate.
“Alright, let’s get this party started!” The MC gestures to the wings of the stage. “Our first eligible bachelor of the evening is ...”
As he announces the first victim, an Amber Lounge organizer you recognize comes rushing over to you.
“Y/N! Thank god I found you. We have an emergency.”
You raise an eyebrow. “What’s wrong, Lucy?”
“One of our bachelorettes had to cancel last minute. Food poisoning.” She makes a face. “We need you to fill in.”
Your eyes widen. “What? No. Absolutely not.” You shake your head vehemently.
“Please Y/N,” Lucy begs. “We need you. The show must go on, for the children!”
“Get someone else,” you hiss. “I refuse to be leered at by old men with more money than sense.”
“Don’t be dramatic.” She gives you a stern look. “It’s unbecoming for someone your age.”
You bristle at the condescension. “I don’t care. Find another victim.”
You move to leave but Lucy grabs your arm, her eyes pleading. “Y/N, the money raised tonight will help provide life-saving surgeries for children in need. Don’t you want to help them?”
Damn. She’s good. You hesitate, cursing your bleeding heart.
Lucy presses on. “It’s just one silly little date. And you might meet someone nice!”
You highly doubt that. With a heavy sigh, you slump back into your chair.
“Fine. But you owe me. Big time.”
Lucy claps excitedly. “Thank you! I promise, you won’t regret this.”
Somehow you doubt that too.
You try unsuccessfully to calm the butterflies raging in your stomach as you wait for your turn on stage. What have you gotten yourself into?
Finally, the MC calls your name. “Our next eligible bachelorette works as a race engineer for Red Bull. But tonight, the only engine she’ll be working on is yours! Let’s give a warm welcome to Y/N Y/L/N!”
Plastering a fake smile on your face, you walk stiffly onto the stage. The lights blind you as the MC sings your praises, highlighting your “beauty, brains, and sass.” You resist the urge to roll your eyes.
As he finally wraps up, you scan the darkened audience nervously. A sea of unfamiliar faces look back at you, shadows obscuring their expressions. You shudder.
“Alright gentlemen, do I hear 5,000 euros to start?”
Immediately, a paunchy, ruddy-faced man in the third row thrusts up his paddle. Your stomach sinks.
"5,000 from the gentleman in row three! Do I hear 5,500?”
Another paddle shoots up from a bald man smirking lecherously at you. Your throat tightens.
"5,500! Can I get 6,000?”
The bids climb higher and you feel faint. These vultures want to buy you. Own you for a night. Your breaths come faster.
10,000 euros. 15,000. 20,000. Sweat drips down your neck as your heart hammers against your ribs.
Just as you’re about to flee the stage in tears, a smooth voice calls out, “One hundred thousand euros.”
A collective gasp sweeps the room. Your mouth falls open in shock. That’s an absurd amount, even for charity.
The MC gulps. “Erm … 100,000 euros from the gentleman in the back!” He peers into the darkness. “Sir, are you certain?”
“Oui.”
That accent … could it be?
You crane your neck, squinting against the glare of the spotlight. A familiar mop of brown hair emerges from the shadows.
Charles. Freaking. Leclerc.
Your cheeks burn crimson. What game is he playing at?
The MC finds his voice again. “R-right then. Going once, going twice ...” He slams the gavel down. “Sold for 100,000 euros! Congratulations, Monsieur Leclerc.”
Charles saunters casually up to the stage, signature smirk in place. He takes your hand and presses a feather-light kiss to your knuckles.
“Bonsoir, ma cherie. I look forward to our date.” He winks roguishly.
You stare open-mouthed, brain short-circuiting. Charles Leclerc just bought you at a date auction.
Il Predestinato.
The golden boy of Scuderia Ferrari himself.
What. Just. Happened?
***
Backstage is chaos. Flashes pop as winners pose with their purchases, champagne flowing freely. You’re quickly shuttled into a cramped makeshift office and handed a stack of paperwork.
“These are your date waivers, dear,” the organizer says briskly. “Standard liability forms.”
You scan the dense legalese numbly. This can’t be real.
A figure plops into the seat beside you, sulking. It’s your friend Ava, Mercedes’ social media manager. She was auctioned right before you.
“Well, congratu-bloody-lations,” she gripes. “Aren’t you Little Miss Popular.”
You glance up distractedly from the waiver you’re signing. “Hmm?”
“Don’t play coy. Bagging the Prince of Monaco himself for your date!” She narrows her eyes. “Meanwhile, I’m stuck going for tea and crumpets with Lord Fartington the Third over here.”
She jerks her thumb at a white-haired man being attended to by a nurse, oxygen tank wheezing.
You wince sympathetically. “Oh Ava, I’m sorry...”
She waves a hand. “Don’t be. At least the old codger’s loaded. Clearly I don’t have your charm.”
You snort. “It’s not like I planned this.”
Ava arches a brow. “You expect me to believe you aren’t thrilled about a date with Leclerc?”
Your cheeks flame as you recall Charles’ roguish wink. “It’s for charity,” you mumble.
“Uh huh. Well, you’re welcome for the extra Instagram followers.”
You groan, burying your face in your hands. You hadn’t even considered the social media storm this would stir up.
Before you can spiral further, you’re pulled aside for a “date planning session.”
Charles is already there, looking completely unflappable. He greets you with a heart-stopping grin.
“Bonsoir, Y/N.”
You timidly return his smile. “Hi.”
A coordinator claps briskly. “Right! Let’s get your date scheduled.”
She turns expectantly to Charles. Your stomach flutters.
“I will pick Y/N up tomorrow at 7 pm sharp for dinner at my favorite restaurant in Monaco.” His eyes glint. “Wear something nice, chérie.”
He takes your hand, brushing a feather-light kiss to your knuckles. You shudder, face aflame.
“Until then, ma belle.” With a roguish wink, he turns and saunters off.
You stare after him, fingers pressed to the spot his lips touched. A date. With Charles Leclerc. Your brain short-circuits.
“Right, that’s settled then!” The coordinator chirps, oblivious to your inner turmoil. “We’ll have a car fetch you tomorrow evening. The press will want photos, of course.”
You distantly agree, mind still whirling. You survive the rest of the paperwork marathon in a daze.
By the time you escape the clutches of the organizers, you’re exhausted. Collapsing into an Uber, you text your roommate Cassie a SOS. Wine and girl talk, stat.
She’s waiting with open arms and your emergency rosé when you drag yourself in the door.
“Rough night, babe?” She asks sympathetically, handing you a generously filled glass.
You groan. “You don’t know the half of it.”
Her eyes widen as you recount the auction. By the end, she’s fanning herself dramatically.
“Shut up. Charles Leclerc really bid 100 thousand euros for you?”
You nod, chugging your wine.
“Holy shit.” She falls back against the couch. “You have a date with an F1 driver. Charles Leclerc. The Charles Leclerc.”
You chuck a throw pillow at her. “Don’t remind me.”
She sits up, affronted. “Are you kidding me? Do you know how many girls would kill to be in your shoes right now?”
You shrug half-heartedly. Honestly, you’re still processing.
Cassie narrows her eyes. “Wait. You do actually like Charles, right?”
“As a person, sure. He’s lovely.” You avoid her gaze. “But a date?”
She tilts her head. “So you’ve never thought about him … you know … in that way?”
You squirm under her scrutiny. “Maybe. Once or twice.” Or multiple times a day.
“I knew it!” She crows triumphantly.
You throw another pillow at her, cheeks flaming. “Okay, fine! He’s totally my type and yes, I’ve fantasized.” You bury your face in your hands. “But fantasizing and actually dating are totally different!”
Cassie rubs your shoulder consolingly. “So you’re freaking out because you actually like him.”
You nod miserably. “What if I make a fool of myself? What if there’s no connection in real life?” You look at her despairingly. “I don’t know if I can handle him rejecting me.”
She squeezes your hand. “Sweetie, from what you’ve told me about Charles, I doubt you have anything to worry about.”
You nibble your lip uncertainly. Cassie may have a point. But still.
“Even if he is interested, what happens after?” you whisper. “I’ll just be another conquest.”
Cassie tilts your chin up gently. “If Charles is foolish enough to let you go, then it’s his loss. But you’ll never know if you don’t try.”
You take a deep breath. She’s right. You can do this. It’s just one date.
You spend the rest of the night gossiping and polishing off the wine. Curled under the covers later, you toss and turn fretfully. What will tomorrow bring?
You replay the auction in your mind. Charles’ smooth voice calling out that astronomical bid. His signature smirk as he claimed you as his prize. The feather-light kiss pressed to your knuckles that still tingles hours later.
A date. With Charles Leclerc. Your pulse quickens once more.
What game is he playing at? There’s no shortage of women who would gladly go out with him. So why you?
You toss and turn, mind racing. Does he actually like you? Or was this all an impulsive stunt — a boast to tell his fellow drivers about later?
You groan into your pillow. This is why you never get involved with drivers. Underneath the glitz and glamour lies a tangled web of ego and politics.
Still … when Charles looked at you with those piercing eyes on stage, just for a moment, you let yourself believe he was seeing the real you. Not just another notch on his bedpost.
You huff, punching your pillow in frustration. You’re being ridiculous. This is Charles Leclerc. Motorsport’s resident heartthrob. You would be foolish to expect more from him than a fancy dinner and bragging rights.
Wouldn’t you?
Anxiety gnaws at your gut as the clock continues to tick. What if this is all some elaborate prank or publicity stunt? What if the date goes horribly wrong?
The silver lining is that at least you helped raise money for charity. Maybe the date itself won’t be so bad. Charles seemed pleasant enough backstage ...
Ugh. You force your eyes closed, begging for sleep to take you. What will tomorrow bring? With the morning light comes your date with Charles Leclerc … for better or worse.
***
The next evening, you’re a bundle of nerves as you frantically rush around getting ready. Cassie helped you pick out a stunning new dress and spent ages on your hair and makeup.
“You look hot, babe,” she proclaims. “Knock him dead!”
You pace anxiously, stomach fluttering. This morning you half expected Charles to cancel or send an assistant with excuses. But instead you got a text from him confirming your dinner reservation along with a winking emoji that made your cheeks flame.
It’s really happening. Your fantasy date with Charles Leclerc.
At precisely 7 pm, the doorbell rings. You nearly trip over yourself rushing to answer it. Swinging open the door, you find Charles waiting on the step, looking unfairly gorgeous in a tailored suit.
In his hands is a massive bouquet of peonies. Your favorite flower, though you’ve certainly never told him that. Your eyes widen.
Charles seems momentarily stunned as he takes in your dress and styled hair. He blinks several times before a slow, heart-stopping smile spreads across his face.
“Bonsoir, mon amour. You look absolutely ravishing.”
He presents the flowers with a flourish. “For you.”
You accept them, blushing fiercely. He even brought your favorite flowers? This has to be a dream.
“They’re beautiful, thank you. Let me just put them in water.” You rush to the kitchen, pulse racing. He called you his love. In French!
You take a steadying breath before rejoining Charles outside. He leads you toward a shiny black Ferrari parked at the curb.
“Sorry, I told the Amber Lounge to cancel the car they ordered for you. I wanted to drive myself so we could talk.” He holds open the passenger door for you.
You slide in, hyper-aware of his proximity in the intimate space. The car smells like his spicy cologne. You’re suddenly very thankful for Cassie’s strategic use of double-stick tape.
Charles pulls smoothly into traffic. His hand rests temptingly close to yours on the gearshift.
“You look very beautiful tonight,” he says, glancing your way. “I apologize for staring earlier. I was just … overwhelmed.”
You blush, tucking your hair behind your ear. “It’s okay. You look very handsome yourself.”
He smiles, visibly relaxing. Soon you’re chatting comfortably about work and hobbies. He asks thoughtful questions about your life and cracks jokes that have you laughing until your stomach hurts.
You’re so immersed in conversation, you don’t notice Charles parking until he opens your door, ever the gentleman. He guides you toward an elegant restaurant overlooking the glittering Monaco harbor.
The maître d’ greets Charles enthusiastically. “Monsieur Leclerc! Wonderful to see you again. Right this way to your usual table.”
You raise your eyebrows, impressed, as he leads you to a secluded candlelit table on the balcony. Charles pulls out your chair for you. Such a gentleman.
“You come here often?” You ask teasingly as he takes his own seat.
“Oui, it is my favorite restaurant in the country,” he admits. “The cuisine is magnifique, and the staff keeps things … discreet.”
Interesting. You wonder just how many dates Charles has brought here. For some reason, the thought makes your stomach twist uncomfortably.
You’re distracted as the waiter brings champagne. Charles turns to you.
“I took the liberty of ordering for us ahead of time, I hope you do not mind. I wanted to surprise you.” His eyes twinkle. “I think you will be pleased.”
You would normally bristle at men ordering for you. But the shy hopefulness in Charles’ eyes melts your reservations.
“That’s very thoughtful of you,” you say sincerely.
He beams. Soon, a parade of your favorite dishes arrives at the table — seared scallops, truffle gnocchi, crème brûlée. You gasp in delight and surprise.
“Charles, these are all my favorites! How did you know?” You narrow your eyes playfully. “Have you been stalking me?”
Charles laughs, rubbing his neck self-consciously. “No, no, nothing like that. I just … pay attention.”
You raise your eyebrows. “Uh huh. Are you sure you haven’t bugged the Red Bull kitchens?”
Charles winces. “You deserve the truth.” He takes a deep breath. “The fact is, I have, er, admired you for some time now.”
Your eyes widen. What is he saying?
Charles hurries on. “At first it was just a passing attraction. But the more I observed you, the more fascinated I became.” He looks up at you earnestly. “You are kind, funny, brilliant … unlike anyone I have ever met.”
Your pulse thunders in your ears. Charles Leclerc has noticed you — for longer than just last night. You’re reeling.
He fiddles with his napkin. “Over the years I have gradually learned your habits, your likes and dislikes. Little things, like your favorite flower, or food.” He ducks his head. “It allowed me to feel closer to you. Pathetic, I know.”
“It’s not pathetic at all,” you murmur. Your heart swells realizing just how long he’s cared. “It’s incredibly thoughtful.”
His answering smile is radiant. The rest of dinner passes enjoyably as you continue getting to know each other. Underneath Charles’ debonair charm, you find a sweet soul.
You linger over dessert, but eventually Charles pays the check. Back outside, the wind off the sea has picked up. You shiver lightly in your dress.
Charles immediately shrugs off his suit jacket and drapes it around your bare shoulders. The residual warmth from his body envelops you, along with his intoxicating scent.
“Can’t have you catching a cold, chérie.” His hands linger, squeezing your shoulders gently.
You clutch the jacket, suddenly shy. “Thank you, Charles. For everything. I had a wonderful time tonight.”
“The pleasure was all mine.” His eyes are dark, tender. “I have waited so long for this moment. You have made me the happiest man alive tonight.”
Your breath catches at his sincerity. Moving slowly, giving you time to pull away, he reaches up to tuck a windblown lock of hair behind your ear. His fingers trail lightly down your neck, raising goosebumps.
When his hand cups your jaw, you lean into the caress unthinkingly. Your lips part. Charles’ gaze drops to your mouth.
Heart in your throat, you sway closer. Is he finally going to kiss you? You’ve been thinking about it all night. His eyes flutter closed ...
A car horn blares loudly, shattering the moment. You spring apart, chest heaving. Charles clears his throat.
“I, er, suppose I should get you home.” He opens the passenger door for you, hand lingering briefly on the small of your back before he rounds the car.
The drive back passes in charged silence. Walking you to the door, Charles softly strokes your knuckles with his thumb.
“I cannot remember when I have had a more wonderful evening,” he says quietly. “I hope we can do this again soon?”
“I’d really like that.” Your cheeks hurt from smiling.
Charles presses a feather-light kiss to your hand. “Bonne nuit, ma belle.”
As he drives away, you press your hands to your burning cheeks. You just had the most perfect first date with Charles Leclerc. A pinch me, I must be dreaming date.
Hugging his suit jacket tighter, you lean against the closed door and sigh happily. Maybe, just maybe, your fantasy is on its way to coming true.
***
The week after your dream date drags by endlessly. You float through your days in a happy daze, replaying every moment in your mind. The suit jacket he gave you lives on the back of your chair, filling your room with his lingering scent.
Before you know it, you’re reunited at the next Grand Prix. You wait awkwardly outside the Ferrari garage, clutching Charles’ jacket. Your excuse is returning it, but really you’re just desperate to see him again.
Does he feel the same? Your stomach twists anxiously.
“Who are you waiting for, bella ragazza?”
You startle as Charles’ performance coach Andrea appears beside you, grinning knowingly.
“Oh, um, just returning this.” You hold up the jacket weakly.
Andrea winks. “Of course. I will let our boy know you are here.”
He heads into the garage and you fidget nervously with your hair. This morning it only took Cassie threatening bodily harm for you to change your outfit five times. You settled on a flattering sundress you know Charles will appreciate before you have to change into a team uniform come time for free practice.
Suddenly Charles comes barreling out of the garage like an overeager golden retriever. His face lights up when he spots you.
“Y/N! I was just coming to find you.”
Before you can react, he sweeps you into a tight hug. You melt against him, breathing in his warmth and familiar cologne. He’s really here, in your arms.
He pulls back just far enough to beam down at you, keeping his hands on your waist. “I missed you, chérie. The days apart were torture.”
You duck your head, smiling shyly. “I missed you too.”
You offer him the folded jacket. “I, um, thought you might want this back.”
Charles tsks, pushing it gently back toward you. “No no, you must keep it. Can’t have you catching cold until our next date, non?”
His eyes sparkle playfully. You hug the jacket to your chest, absurdly giddy at having an excuse to keep it longer.
“Charles! Fred is asking for you.” His race engineer calls out apologetically.
Charles sighs regretfully. “Duty calls. But I will see you later, yes?”
He lifts your hand to his mouth, lips grazing your knuckles feather-light. Your breath catches. Then, so quickly you almost miss it, he swoops in and presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth, sending lightning zipping across your skin. With a last lingering look, he jogs off.
You press your fingers to your tingling skin, smiling like a loon. Andrea winks knowingly as you float away on cloud nine.
Over the next few hours, you’re bombarded by smug comments and curious questions from fellow Red Bull crew. Apparently your “secret romance” with Charles is the paddock’s gossip of choice today.
You weather the teasing good-naturedly. After all, you’re daydreaming while remembering the sensation of Charles’ lips on your skin.
After FP2 ends, you’re startled from reviewing data by a knock on your office door. You open it to find a delivery man with a truly gigantic flower arrangement.
“Delivery for Y/N Y/L/N?” He consults his clipboard. “Says these are for you personally.”
You gape at the massive vase overflowing with huge, fragrant red peonies. There must be at least four dozen stems.
“Oh, um, that’s me, thanks.” You take the towering arrangement, stunned.
The delivery man chuckles knowingly. “Popular lady. Have a nice day now.”
Shutting the door, you bury your nose in the velvety petals, inhaling deeply. There’s only one person who could have sent these.
The card confirms it.
Thinking of you each and every second, C.
Red peonies are nearly impossible to find, yet Charles managed it.
It’s undeniably a public statement. Sending your favorite flowers in the color of his team for everyone to see. Staking his claim.
Normally such male posturing would irritate you. But from Charles, it feels different. Sweet. Affectionate, even.
You press your face into the blooms again, heart overflowing. Is this what it feels like to be falling for someone? You haven’t felt this giddy in years.
Somehow, you’ve captured the attention of the amazing, thoughtful, romantic Charles Leclerc. And you have a feeling this is only the beginning.
***
“Keep pushing Checo, just a few more laps to go,” you say into the radio as your driver, Sergio Perez, circles the track in final practice.
He’s been struggling with tire degradation all weekend. You’ve made setup tweaks and simulation runs, but there’s only so much data can tell you. The stopwatch never lies.
At least his pace looks improved this session. You watch closely as he enters the home straight again, sparring with the Ferrari of Charles Leclerc for position.
You try not to stare too obviously as the scarlet car glides by. The visor obscures Charles’ handsome features, but your heart still skips a beat.
Get it together, you scold yourself. You’re at work. Ogling drivers mid-session is unprofessional.
Even if said driver happens to be the charming, romantic F1 sensation you’ve somehow found yourself falling for ...
The session ends without incident. You breathe a sigh of relief reviewing Checo’s improved lap times. All things considered, not a bad recovery from yesterday’s struggles.
You pack up your station and make your way back to Red Bull hospitality to grab a late lunch before qualifying. Scrolling your phone, you can’t resist pulling up a photo from your dream date with Charles last week.
God he looks good in a suit. And that adoring smile ...
“No wonder your head’s been in the clouds lately.”
You jump, nearly dropping your phone. Checo appears beside you, leaning over your shoulder with a knowing grin.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you mutter, shoving your phone away.
“Oh come on, chica. I’ve seen the way you two stare at each other.” He nudges you playfully. “Like lovesick teenagers.”
You shove him back, rolling your eyes. “As if. Charles and I have barely even spoken.”
A bald-faced lie, but no need to feed the gossip mill further. Checo just studies you for a moment, smile turning knowing. “Ah, so it’s Charles now, is it? No more Leclerc?”
You feel your face heat. Have you been that obvious? “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Oh come on.” Checo bumps your shoulder playfully. “I saw the way you two were making eyes at each other all morning. Like a pair of lovestruck teenagers.”
You bury your face in your notes, mortified. Has your thing with Charles really been so noticeable?
Checo laughs. “Ah, do not be embarrassed, chica. I think it’s adorable. The race engineer and the driver, a paddock romance!”
You toss a balled up napkin at him in protest, which he dodges easily. “Stop it! There’s nothing going on.”
“Nothing, eh?” Checo’s eyes gleam impishly. “So all those flowers you got yesterday were just for fun? And I imagined you swooning over Leclerc in the garage?”
You flush even harder. Apparently you have not been as subtle as you thought.
Checo slings an arm around your shoulder. “Relax, hermanita. I am just teasing because I care.”
You lean into him, some of the tension easing.
“You know I just want you to be happy, right chica?” His expression grows serious. “Leclerc seems like a good guy. Just be careful with your heart.”
You nod, touched by his concern. “Of course. We’ve only been on two dates.” You hesitate. “But … I really like him. He’s so different than I expected.”
Checo smiles gently. “I am happy for you, truly. You deserve an amazing man.”
You grin. “Thanks, Checo.”
His smile turns impish again. “Just promise me one thing.”
You raise an eyebrow warily. “What?”
“No spilling Red Bull secrets to your new Ferrari boyfriend, eh?” He waggles his eyebrows. “I know he is muy guapo, but business is business!”
“Oh my god, stop! I would never.”
“Please. The heart eyes between you are obvious. Not that I blame you ...” He leans in conspiratorially. “Leclerc is quite the smooth talker, no?”
You lightly smack his shoulder, cheeks reddening. “Stop it. We’re just friends.”
“Mmhmm. Keep telling yourself that.”
He slings an arm around your shoulder. “Just remember your duties if you get distracted mooning over pretty Ferrari boys, yes?”
You make a face at him. “Gross. As if I’d shirk my responsibilities over some silly crush.”
Even if said crush is on Charles freaking Leclerc. You do have some professionalism.
Checo just grins knowingly as you reach the counter. He grabs a plate of food and you follow suit. Settling at a table together, he fixes you with a brotherly stare.
“In all seriousness though chica, be careful with your heart. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
You soften. Underneath his joking exterior, Checo is very protective of you. He’s like the big brother you never had.
“I will, I promise. Charles has been very respectful so far. We’re taking things slow.”
“Good.” Checo pats your hand. “No one is allowed to break your heart and get away with it. Even the Prince of Monaco himself,” he adds with a wink.
You roll your eyes, but smile, leaning against his sturdy frame. “I’ll sic you on him if he steps out of line, don’t worry.”
Checo laughs. “Please do. I have always wanted an excuse to wipe that smug grin off Leclerc’s face.” His smile softens. “But truly, I hope he continues to make you happy, hermanita.”
“Thanks Checo.” You squeeze him tight, overcome with emotion. “Love you.”
“Love you too.” He ruffles your hair fondly, ignoring your cries of protest. “And if Leclerc breaks your heart, I’ll break his legs, eh?”
You laugh. “I’ll remind him of that.” You check the time. “We should head back soon.”
You both bus your plates. As you exit, Checo slings an arm around your shoulders again.
“You’ve got this chica. Just remember, the heart wants what it wants. Even if it seems loco to the rest of us.”
You lean into him gratefully. “Thanks Checo. Seriously.”
He grins down at you. “Anytime. Now let’s go smash qualifying!”
You shake your head, smiling to yourself as you return to your data analysis. As annoying as Checo’s teasing is, it’s also kind of sweet how much he cares.
You know if anyone steps out of line and hurts you, Checo will come after them in a heartbeat. But something tells you that you have nothing to worry about when it comes to Charles.
Still … you appreciate Checo looking out for you. With everyone in your corner, you feel like for once, things in your love life might actually go right.
***
Qualifying flies by in a blur of adrenaline and data analysis. In the end, Max takes pole for Red Bull, with Charles slotting into P2 for Ferrari and Checo P3. A good starting position for both your drivers.
You’re on a high as you leave the garage after the debrief that evening. The sky is dusky purple, the paddock slowly emptying out. You hum to yourself, thinking of celebrating with Cassie over FaceTime later.
Rounding a corner toward the Red Bull hotel, you’re suddenly grabbed from behind and yanked into a shadowy alleyway. Heart leaping into your throat, you open your mouth to scream-
“Shhh, it’s me!” A familiar voice hisses as a hand clamps over your mouth.
You whirl around to find Charles pressed against you, eyes glinting in the shadows. Adrenaline pounds through you.
“Jesus, you scared me half to death!” You smack his chest, pulse racing. “I thought I was being kidnapped.”
“I’m sorry, chérie.” Charles grins, utterly unrepentant. “I could not resist surprising you when I saw you walking by.”
“So you grabbed me and dragged me into a dark alley? Real romantic.” You try to look stern, but can’t quite manage it. He’s just too charming.
Charles’ smile turns sheepish. “My apologies. I did not think it through properly.” His thumb strokes over your bottom lip softly. “I suppose I was … overzealous. I could not stop thinking about you all day.”
Your breath catches at the tender look in his eyes. He sways closer, backing you up against the alley wall.
“Truthfully, I just needed to do this ...”
His lips descend on yours, firm and seeking. For one stunned moment you freeze up — before kissing him back ardently, lost in bliss. His hands thread through your hair, angling you closer as he deepens the kiss.
It’s perfect.
After endless moments, you reluctantly part, gasping for air. Charles rests his forehead against yours, eyes dark.
“I have wanted to do that since our first date,” he confesses, trailing feather-light kisses across your jaw.
You clutch his shoulders, dizzy with euphoria. “You have no idea how long I’ve thought about kissing you.”
He smiles against your skin, nipping your neck playfully. “Oh, I think I do, ma belle. Why do you think I bid on you at that auction?”
You still can’t believe your dream man wanted you just as much as you wanted him. It seems too good to be true.
Charles nuzzles your cheek tenderly. “I must be the luckiest man alive to have caught your attention.”
Heart overflowing, you draw him down into another dizzying kiss. Charles groans, crushing you closer. It feels like coming home, being in his arms. Like this is where you were always meant to be.
The distant sound of teams making their way out of the paddock finally breaks you apart. Charles caresses your face wistfully.
“I should let you get back. You need your rest before the race tomorrow and so do I.” He hesitates, looking shy. “Perhaps we could … get dinner afterwards? To celebrate?”
Your lips curve in a teasing smile. “Are you asking me on a second date, Mr. Leclerc?”
Pink stains his sharp cheekbones. “I suppose I am, Miss Y/L/N. If you would do me the honor?”
You tap your chin playfully. “Hmm. I suppose I could clear my schedule for you.”
His answering smile is radiant. On impulse, you grab his collar and pull him down into one last hungry kiss.
“Good luck tomorrow,” you whisper against his lips. “Not that you’ll need it. Don’t tell Max or Checo I said this, but you’re the most talented driver out there.”
Charles looks endearingly dazed as you gently extricate yourself from his arms. With a flirty wave, you sashay out of the alley on shaky legs, mind spinning.
Pausing at the end, you glance back to see Charles leaning against the wall, gazing after you with pure adoration. He presses two fingers to his grinning lips that still tingle from your kiss.
You blow him one last discreet kiss before continuing on your way. Wait until Cassie hears about this!
***
Race day dawns sunny and clear — perfect conditions. In the Red Bull garage, you help Checo run through final preparations, tweaking setup and chatting strategy.
“Alright, the car is dialed in and ready to fly,” you tell him confidently.
Checo grins. “Perfecto. We will beat your boyfriend today, no?” He winks.
You roll your eyes, fighting a blush. “He’s not my boyfriend.”
“Sure, chica.” Checo ruffles your hair before heading to the grid.
It’s a chaotic blur of adrenaline and split-second decisions as you guide Checo through the field. In the end, Max takes the win for Red Bull, with Charles clinching P2 for Ferrari and Checo rounding out the podium in P3.
You rush to congratulate the drivers after, giving Checo a warm hug. “Great drive out there! The tire management really made a difference.”
He smiles. “But not enough to beat our rivals today, eh?” His gaze slides behind you.
You turn to see Charles approaching, fresh from the podium. His race suit is unzipped to the waist, hair adorably mussed. Your mouth goes dry.
Checo smirks knowingly. “I will leave you two alone. See you at the debrief.” He saunters off with a wink.
Charles beams, pulling you into a quick hug. “Congratulations. Your strategy was brilliant today.”
You grin. “Thanks, you did amazing too.” Your face heats realizing people nearby are staring and whispering.
Charles doesn’t seem to care, keeping your hand tucked in his. “I will wait for you outside the motorhome? Then perhaps we could celebrate ...” His smile turns hopeful.
You squeeze his hand, heart skipping. “Can’t wait.”
The debrief drags by endlessly. Finally you escape the garage into the late afternoon sunlight. True to his word, Charles is waiting, freshly showered and devastatingly handsome in a button-down and slacks.
“Y/N!” In two long strides he’s sweeping you into his arms and kissing you ardently, uncaring of the crowd of mechanics around you.
Catcalls and whistles break out. You blush fiercely as Charles sets you down, lacing your fingers together.
“Get it Leclerc!” One of his mechanics yells, making lewd gestures. Charles just flips him off casually, keeping his eyes on you.
“Shall we?”
You nod, face still burning. As Charles leads you away, your Red Bull colleagues join the teasing.
“Don’t wait up tonight boys!” One calls, making kissy noises.
“She’s ditching us for the red guys now!”
“Just don’t go spilling all our secrets, Y/N!”
You hide your face against Charles’ shoulder. He chuckles, wrapping a protective arm around you.
“Pay them no mind, ma belle,” he murmurs against your hair. “They are just jealous I get to spend the evening with the most beautiful woman in the world.”
You sigh happily, cuddling closer as you leave the paddock. The teasing means well — it’s their way of saying they approve. And nothing can dampen your euphoria at being with Charles again.
At the parking lot, a shiny red Ferrari awaits. Charles opens the door for you with a gallant bow before rounding the car and sliding in.
“So, where are we going?” You ask excitedly as Charles peels out onto the road. “Or do I not get to know the secret location?”
He glances at you sidelong, eyes glinting mischievously. “You will see. Let’s just say I … pulled some strings to arrange the perfect second date for us.”
You pout playfully. “Not even a little hint?”
Charles pretends to zip his lips. “Non, it is a surprise, ma petite.” His hand finds yours, thumb grazing over your knuckles. “But I think you will appreciate the … atmosphere I have created.”
The promise in his voice sends delicious shivers down your spine. You pass the drive chatting comfortably, exchanging soft, smiling glances.
After half an hour, Charles pulls up to a beautiful chateau perched on a vineyard-spotted hillside. You gasp as he escorts you inside the charming stone lodge.
“Charles, this is amazing! How did you arrange this on such short notice?”
He smiles, pleased by your reaction. “I may have called in a favor from the owners, who are family friends. We have the whole place to ourselves tonight.” His eyes smolder.
You wander the chateau in a happy daze as Charles gives you a private tour. He’s thought of everything — flowers, candles, and even champagne chilling by the roaring fireplace.
Dinner is sumptuous, featuring all your favorite dishes paired expertly with rich wines from the vineyard. Charles is attentive as always, hanging on your every word.
Afterwards you cuddle together on the sofa, pleasantly tipsy, exchanging lazy kisses as you take in the spectacular starry view through the expansive windows.
Charles nuzzles into your neck, lips grazing your hammering pulse point. “Have I mentioned how ravishing you look tonight?”
You shiver pleasurably. “I could stand to hear it again.”
He smiles against your skin. “You, mon amour, are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.” His voice drops an octave. “And it is taking every ounce of my self control not to tear that dress off you this instant.”
Heat coils in your core at the unspoken promise in his words. Your fingers curl into his hair, guiding his lips back to yours. The kiss quickly grows heated, urgent.
With obvious effort, Charles forces himself to pull back, eyes blazing. “As much as I want you, we should take this slow. I want our first time to be special.” He strokes your cheek tenderly. “You deserve to be properly worshiped.”
Your heart swells at his care for you. You really hit the jackpot with this incredible man.
Cuddling against his chest, you look up at him adoringly. “You are … amazing"
Charles’ smile is soft, sincere. “I am only that way because you inspire me to be the best version of myself.” He kisses you sweetly. “I am the luckiest man in the world to have found you.”
You’ve never felt so cared for — so intensely adored. Here in Charles’ arms is exactly where you’re meant to be.
***
One Year Later
Strolling hand in hand with Charles along the Monaco harbor, you’ve never been happier. The sun glints off the water as he brushing featherlight kisses to your knuckles, making you giggle.
Charles lifts your hand to his mouth, pressing his lips to your palm as you walk. “What are you thinking about, ma belle?”
You smile up at him. “Just reminiscing about everything that’s happened since you swept me off my feet.”
His eyes soften. “The best year of my life. I fall more in love with you every day.”
Heart full, you tug him down into a sweet kiss. Charles hums happily against your lips.
“Well isn’t this cozy!” An approaching voice interrupts. You pull apart to see Lucy, the Amber Lounge organizer who convinced you to participate in the auction last year, beaming at you both.
“Lucy! Hi.” You accept her enthusiastic hug.
“Don’t you two make the cutest couple?” She winks conspiratorially. “I always knew there was a spark between you.”
You laugh, lacing your fingers through Charles’ once more. His answering smile is radiant.
“I’m so thrilled it worked out.” Lucy glances between you eagerly. “So, given it’s almost that time of year again … any chance you lovebirds would let us auction you off once more? Think of the publicity!”
You tense, old anxieties rising. But before you can respond, Charles’ grip on your hand tightens.
“Actually, I have a better idea.” His voice is lethally pleasant. “How about I simply drop off a cheque for an 100,000 euro donation, and you leave my girlfriend alone?”
A frisson of heat shoots through you at his possessive tone. Charles rubs his thumb over your knuckles soothingly, holding your gazes, before fixing Lucy with a warning look.
“We will of course still attend the gala to show support. But the auction is off limits. Understood?” His smile doesn’t reach his eyes.
Lucy gulps. “Y-Yes, of course. My apologies if I overstepped.” She nods at you both. “Have a lovely evening!”
With that she scurries back inside the Amber Lounge.
“Good day to you.” With that, he guides you away down the street, tension radiating from him.
You glance at him in concern once you’re out of earshot. “Are you okay?”
Charles drags a hand through his hair. “Yes, I just … the thought of them putting you on display again ...” He shudders.
Your heart melts realizing why he got so defensive. You halt, turning Charles gently to face you.
“That was very macho and possessive of you back there,” you murmur, walking your fingers up his chest.
Charles winces. “I’m sorry, I did not mean to be so overbearing-”
You silence him with a finger to his lips. “Let me finish. I said it was macho and possessive.” You lean up to purr in his ear. “And so. Freaking. Hot.”
Charles’ eyes widen. Grinning, you shove him back against the brick wall and kiss him fiercely. He grunts in surprise before responding in kind, nipping your bottom lip.
“If I had known getting possessive would get this reaction, I would have done it ages ago,” he gasps out between kisses.
You silenced his laughter with your mouth, desire burning through you. The raw protectiveness Charles showed took your breath away. You’ve never felt so safe, so cared for.
Finally you break apart and Charles pulls you firmly against his chest. “I love you,” he breathes against your hair. “More than I can ever express.”
“I love you too.” You can feel the beating of his heart beneath your ear. “Now take me home and show me just how much you missed me this morning.”
Charles’ eyes darken. With a roguish grin he sweeps you into his arms, making you shriek. Laughing joyfully, he carries you down the street toward your shared apartment.
If the rest of your life together is even half as magical as this past year with Charles, you’ll die a happy woman.
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pure-smut · 1 month
Text
feral.
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featuring: Ryomen Sukuna x f!reader
contains: college!Sukuna, established relationship, birth control tampering, unprotected s*x, noncon/dubcon, breeding k*nk, size k*nk, cunnilingus, multiple rounds, creampies, stalking, toxic behaviour
word count: 2.4k
note: all characters are aged up to 21+!
MDNI | 18+ content
series: 1. infatuated | 2. obsessed | 3. addicted | 4. toxic | 5. feral
masterlist
a/n: okay this is the actual final part!! tysm for all the love y'all have given this series, sukuna is truly one of my muses he's just so fucked up lmaooo
“Good news,” you say, beaming. “No more condoms!”
Ryomen Sukuna’s head snaps up from where he was lazing on the couch, scrolling his phone.
“What?”
“No more condoms!” you repeat. “I switched to a different kind of pill, it won’t make me feel as bleh.”
Sukuna can only stare at you. You cross the living room and kneel beside him on the couch. He’s been so patient with you, so doting, you feel bad you changed up your birth control so suddenly last time. You reach across to run your fingers through his hair.
“I know you hated the condoms,” you say, an apologetic smile on your face.
“Stupid things,” Sukuna grumbles, leaning into your touch.
The two of you had only had sex once with a condom and it was obvious Sukuna was displeased. Since then, you’ve been sticking to hand and mouth activities, which is great but not enough forever.
“Well, I’m sorry,” you tell him. “We don’t need to use them anymore.”
You lean across to press a kiss against his lips.
“I missed you, ‘Kuna,” you tell him softly, your eyes glancing down pointedly. “All of you.”
A grin crawls across his face as he kisses you back.
“You still have me, baby,” he says. “I’m right here.”
Truthfully, Sukuna’s been slipping you sleeping pills every couple of nights, taking his fill of you without a condom. You wake up every so often a bit achy and sore but Sukuna’s careful to clean up after himself, never leaving a trace, so you don’t pay it much mind. Meanwhile, Sukuna’s happy to keep doting on you, knowing he’s spilling his seed unprotected in you without you even knowing.
He slipped you the morning after pill the first couple of times but the more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea of getting you pregnant. Your needy little pussy so eager for his cum, fucking his load into you until it takes. The idea was intoxicating. So he stopped spiking your coffee with the morning after pill. All he needs to do now is wait.
Until you interrupt his plans again.
Sukuna waits until you’re out of the house before he starts rifling through the bathroom cabinets. He finds your new pills quickly, a few of them already popped. He regards them with disgust. Just another barrier between you.
He takes a picture of them, making a note of the name and brand. After some difficult searching and a trip to the dark web, Sukuna finds someone who’ll send out several identical boxes, except filled with sugar pills instead. With a grin, he orders them.
Sukuna has to spend a few days finishing inside you knowing you’re still protected, waiting for the fake pills to arrive. He knows you’d get suspicious if he refrained from sex – it’s Sukuna, after all – so he fucks you the way you want, the thought of the prize at the end keeping him going.
You return home one day to see Sukuna with your favourite flowers, the lights turned low, and a smile on his face. Your sweet boyfriend.
You remember what you thought of him before you got together – an arrogant fuckboy would be putting it lightly. What should have been a quick, albeit satisfying, one night stand has somehow turned into the most loving relationship you’ve ever had.
You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him deep, your tongue flicking over his. He’s been in a semi-bad mood ever since you said you were switching pills but he seems to have gotten over it, returning to the gruff but loving guy you know.
“I love you, baby,” Sukuna mumbles into your mouth. “Get on the bed.”
He doesn’t give you time to respond before he carries you through to the bedroom himself. You’re used to this, being manhandled by Sukuna, so you only giggle as he throws you onto the bed. He reaches under your skirt to tug off your panties before crawling between your legs.
Sukuna inhales the scent of you. You smell so dark and sweet, it’s like you’re custom built to turn him on. Ever since the night he broke into your room to taste you as you slept, he hasn’t been able to stop tasting you. You often find yourself in the middle of tasks, cooking or studying, interrupted by Sukuna nudging his face between your legs to lap at you.
Sukuna wraps his arms around your thighs to pull you closer, his tongue parting your folds. You’re already glistening for him, so ready for him, and he loves that about you. Loves that he can take you whenever he wants, your pussy just waiting for him. You taste even better now that he knows you’ve been on the fake birth control pills for a week now, your scent somehow more powerful now he knows you’re unprotected, ready for his seed.
He groans into your pussy at the thought, his cock already throbbing. He licks a fat stripe along your lips before prodding at your entrance, lapping at your sweet honey. His nose nudges your clit, making you groan and card your fingers through his hair. You’d grind against him if you could, if his grip allowed you, but you’re no match for Sukuna’s strength. He always holds you in place, holds you exactly where he wants to.
Sukuna eats your pussy selfishly, the way he enjoys it rather than you – your pleasure being a nice bonus but not always necessary. His thick tongue slides in and out of your hole, gathering as much of your slick as possible, and you have to whine for him to please, please lick your clit. As usual, he brings you to the brink but doesn’t take you over unless you beg him.
Sukuna latches onto your clit, sucking it with just enough pressure to send you hurtling over the edge. His tongue swipes over the sensitive bud as he sucks and your whole body would buck if he wasn’t pinning you down so tightly. You moan and writhe as you come undone on his tongue, Sukuna licking up your juices as they run down his chin. He only pulls away when he’s painfully hard, needing to feel you around him before he bursts.
Sukuna quickly positions himself, slinging your ankles up over his shoulders as he aligns with your sopping cunt. He pushes himself in, feeling the fat head of his cock pop inside you before several more inches follow. You cry out his name, digging your nails into his forearm.
He normally goes slower than this, normally lets you adjust. But when you look up at him, Sukuna’s eyes are feral. Something instinctual has taken over him, has made him desperate to rut into you.
“S-Sukuna,” you whimper. “P-please… slower…”
A muscle bounces in his jaw but he obliges, the sound of your begging appeasing him. He doesn’t push any deeper but instead fucks you with shallow thrusts, only going halfway down his shaft.
It feels like your needy pussy is sucking him in, despite your pleading, and Sukuna has to fight to restrain himself. Your sweet, fertile womb is waiting for him and there’s nothing he wants more than to coat it with his cum.
But he does love you. He loves you so much. He doesn’t want to hurt you, not really, not when you’re whimpering so sweetly for him, your nails digging into him so desperately. So he rocks his hips, waiting for you to adjust, waiting for the wince on your face to turn to pleasure, before he sinks himself deeper.
“Ah, fuck… that’s it…” Sukuna half sighs, half grunts as he bottoms out. “Who’s pussy is this?”
“Y-yours, Sukuna,” you moan.
“Who do you belong to?”
“You, Sukuna!”
“Say it.”
“I belong to you. All of me belongs to you.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, your brain foggy with lust.
Sukuna’s pushing you to the brink again, his thick cock pistoning in and out of you as he rubs against your most sensitive spot. Sukuna feels you cream on his cock, helpless to it, your body not your own.
As you moan and mewl, Sukuna looks down at you and pictures you pregnant with his child. He imagines your swollen belly, how your heavy breasts will sway, how you’ll be with him forever.
His forever.
It’s enough to finish him. Sukuna groans long and low, sinking inside you as he spurts load after load into your womb. He fills you to the brim, his orgasm so powerful he falls onto his arms, muscles shaking.
He’s still inside you as he kisses you roughly, unlike the sweet, deep kisses he usually gives you after sex. You kiss him back but it’s only when you feel his hips rock again, his length still inside you that you realise he’s not done.
“’Kuna…?”
Sukuna ignores you as he pulls out long enough to flip you onto your stomach. He pushes your leg up, bending it at the knee to give him better access as he slides himself into you again.
You gasp as your tender pussy is violated, your hands splayed out as Sukuna pins your down with his body weight. He’s still fully hard, his girth hitting a new angle as he fucks his load back into you.
“S-Sukuna…” you whimper. “M’sore!”
“Quiet,” he commands you, voice rough. “I can feel how fucking wet you are so be a good little slut and let me finish.”
Sukuna’s harsh voice silences you as you bury your face into the pillow, hands fisting the bed sheets. He’s right – you’re tender but you’re still enjoying it, your pussy drooling around his cock. His cum is only making you sloppier, only making it easier for him to fuck you. So you stay quiet, softly whimpering into the pillow.
Sukuna continues fucking you, the feel of your plush walls still so tight around him and the lewd squelch of your sopping pussy making his second orgasm build quickly. He wants to fuck as much cum in you as he can, wants to fill your womb with it.
The fact that you’re unaware, still thinking you’re protected, is a delicious bonus. A thrill runs up his spine as he thinks about how you’re letting him fuck you, letting him cum inside you, when you never would if you knew.
If you only knew.
You lay there, legs nearly numb and body drained of any energy, as Sukuna continues to saw in and out of you. You feel one of his large hands scoop under your hip, lifting you slightly so he can go deeper. Sukuna handles you like you’re just a hole for him to fuck and you realise the thought makes you even wetter. Your walls are so sensitive, each stroke feels like fire through your body, half pleasure and half pain.
Your abused pussy clenches involuntarily around Sukuna's girth as he forces a orgasm from you, his hips snapping against your ass at a brutal pace.
Having you in this position reminds Sukuna of every night he’s fucked you while you’re asleep, your body limp and pliant, just waiting to be moved to his liking. Except this time he's fucked you into submission, his own personal little fucktoy.
“Fuck…” he mutters, his cock swelling. “You’re such a good girl for me. You’re so fucking good.”
He’s so close. Your pussy feels too warm and soft, too greedy for his cum for him to last any longer. Sukuna grips your hip hard enough to leave bruises, holding you in place as he fucks into you. His balls tighten at his approaching orgasm and you can hear his moans behind you, his cock nearly overly sensitive.
You’re almost relieved as you feel his hot cum spill inside you, Sukuna’s thrusts slowing as his cock throws thick ropes of his sticky seed in your womb. Your breathing is ragged, your face streaked with tears you didn’t realise you were crying.
Sukuna pulls out of you but stays where he is, breathing hard. After a moment, he presses a soft kiss to your shoulder.
“Sorry, baby,” he murmurs. “Couldn’t help myself. You just felt so good.”
Sukuna smooths his hand across your back, pressing more gentle kisses against your neck and shoulder. You let him, blinking away the last of the tears.
“I love you,” Sukuna says quietly.
You roll over to face him, wincing at the tender ache between your legs.
“I love you too,” you whisper.
Sukuna kisses you again, the way you remember, soft and deep. You want to ask what came over him but when he tells you he’s going to clean you up and run you a hot bath, you decide you don’t mind.
True to his word, Sukuna gently cleans you before leaving you to soak in the bath. He offers to stay with you but you insist you want to sit alone for a while, peppering him with reassuring kisses. And you do sit alone for a while, for a few minutes.
Quietly, you climb out of the bath and open the cabinet to find your birth control pills. You check you’ve taken the dummy pills Sukuna got you before putting them back in the cabinet. You sink silently to your knees and carefully lift one of the tiles on the bathroom floor. Sitting there are your real birth control pills.
You pop one free, swallowing it quickly before putting it back, replacing the tile without making a sound. You climb back into the bath slowly so you don’t splash before lying back again, relaxing.
You first discovered Sukuna’s sleeping pills when he was out collecting your favourite takeout some weeks ago. You figured that was the reason you were waking up some mornings with a familiar ache.
You discovered the tracking app on your phone the morning after Sukuna had installed it and had spotted him following at a distance behind you some days. So you gave him what he wanted – you made sure he saw you ignored other men and you never lied about your location.
You got your own set of morning after pills once you found the sleeping pills, knowing immediately what Sukuna was up to. He might think you’re unprotected, might fuck you like you are, but only you know that’s not true.
You close your eyes, enjoying the soak of the hot water. You know Sukuna does this because he loves you. Because he’s obsessed with you. You like that he's rough with you you, that he loves you so much he stalks you, that he wants to get you pregnant so he'll never lose you.
You love him just as much back. Your sweet, doting boyfriend who thinks he knows everything about you, who thinks he’s the one in control.
Your smirk to yourself.
If only he knew.
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saetoru · 1 year
Text
✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。10:07 PM — AL-HAITHAM.
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al-haitham asks you to marry him before he even realizes himself what he’s just asked. it’s a random tuesday night. you’re in worn out pajamas, he’s still got slight damp hair from his shower, and the both of you are curled up on the couch.
you’re rubbing his chest and his arm’s wrapped around your waist when you murmur, “we should get a place with more windows.”
he raises a brow, turns to look at you and scan over the side of your face. it’s familiar, the way you look so pretty under the dim light, on the same couch against the same walls in the same living room. but it’ll still feel like the first time even if it’ll be his last.
“is the design of our current home not up to your standards?” he asks, making you giggle.
“it’s nice,” you hum, “but it needs more windows. and a bigger kitchen. and maybe a backyard.”
“this home is conveniently close to our place of work,” he argues, fingers creeping up from under your shirt and rubbing circles into your hip. it’s soft—your skin, it’s warm and familiar under the rough pad of his thumb. it’s a touch that’s routine enough that you don’t squirm in surprise anymore when he finds your bare skin, and then he wonders for a moment if there are other routines waiting for him.
maybe he’ll watch you wait for him through the window as he comes home. maybe you’ll dance in the kitchen as coffee’s being made. maybe there’ll be picnics in the backyard as the sun sets. maybe, when you have a new house but the same home, he’ll find more of you in the walls and the corners of every room.
“haitham,” you huff, “a little extra walk won’t kill you. we should find our dream home.”
“our?” he asks after a moment, like he’s shocked. you only nod against his chest.
“of course, silly,” you chuckle, “i certainly won’t be house shopping with the general mahamatra—”
“we should get married,” he blurts.
“what?”
“my grandmother left a ring,” he instantly explains, “it’s a very nice ring, i promise. you won’t have to worry about having a bare finger—”
“that’s not what i meant—”
“and it can be a small ceremony,” he assures, “it shouldn’t take much planning. but if you’d like something fancier, i don’t mind either, it’s your wedding day just as much as it is mine—”
“that’s sweet, but wait—”
“and if you’re worried about time off for the honeymoon, as the former acting grand sage, there’s still a few strings i can pull for us both. i hear inazuma is nice during spring, so that gives us—”
he’s rambling. he’s figuring it out right here and now and it’s the last thing you expect of him, not having an elaborate plan—and it takes you by surprise. but he’s breathless and his eyes are wide and his chest is warm and his arm is still wrapped tightly around your waist.
and you couldn’t dream of saying no.
“you think you want all this?” you ask gently, “with little old me?”
“there’s no one but you,” he mumbles, holding you closer. and if there’s a slight bounce in his knee as he waits for your answer, you pretend you don’t notice.
“so you want to get married?”
“i want to marry you,” he corrects, “i want you. marriage is just the means of how.”
“okay,” you say with a hitch in your throat. after a moment of silence, you let out a shaky chuckle, eyes watery as you meet his. “okay. let’s get married.”
“okay,” he nods slightly, swallowing thickly.
“and we can have a house with more windows,” you add.
“and a bigger kitchen,” he agrees.
“and a backyard.”
“maybe a bigger study,” he adds thoughtfully.
you grab his face at that, with enough desperation that his cheeks are squished in your hands as you turn him, pressing your lips to his. you taste him, feel him pass through you as a breath of air, hear him ring through your ear as a muffled grunt.
he’s a part of you. he’s every inch of you. he lingers on your skin and knits into your bones. he’s yours now and somehow….somehow he’ll be yours forever.
“i’m going to get married,” you sniffle. “how exciting.”
“i’m going to marry you,” he murmurs, like he’s still processing the fact that you’re here, and his, and you’ve said yes.
“i love you,” you giggle, pressing your forehead to his.
his eyes close and his arm squeezes you gently. “i’ll always love you.”
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edit: everyone stop fucking commenting about the authors note it was a joke and the comments are getting old :/ why don’t you actually leave feedback on the fic itself for once and show writers some support as you consume content
you people don’t fucking understand how insanely in love with him i am i want to make a fur coat out of his pubic hair and wear it on a cold winter day idc
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wongyuseokie · 4 months
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Exile | k.m.g
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Summary: You two were high school sweethearts, and your love story was something only found in the scripts of a shitty teenage rom-com, but he was a jock, and you were shy and quiet. It shouldn’t have worked, but somehow it did. Now, fast forward ten years, and things aren’t the same. Your lives aren’t the same; he’s stuck in the past, and you only focus on the future. Neither of you has your priorities straight, and neither realises that your present is a complete and utter mess. You won’t let him go because he’s all you’ve ever known, and he won’t let you go because you’re the only thing right in his life, but will love and high school promises keep you two together?
☆ 18+ minors dni |☀︎fluff | ☁︎ angst | ♕smut | ♥ completed works
Word Count: 20,221 words
Pairings: Kim Mingyu x Female Reader Genre/Trope(s)/AU(s): Slice of Life AU! Fluff, Angst, Smut (the holy trinity, if you will) 
Content Warnings: Slice of Life AU! (don’t say I didn’t warn you; this won’t be a nice one, or will it hee-hee). Yelling, swearing, crying, arguments. Couples counselling–do note I am not an actual therapist. I just write fiction. Incredibly angsty. Body insecurities and mentions of blood are not much or graphic. Smut Warnings: unprotected sex (don’t do this). Fingering, oral (male and female receiving). Multiple orgasms, squirting, hand jobs. Use of sex toys. Hickies. Dry humping. Mingyu cums in his trousers (but like, what can I say? He’s in love). Shower sex.   Authors Note 1: This is a Seventeen rewrite of an old fic of mine, so if it looks familiar, that’s why hehe. 
Author’s Note 2: Thank you to my darling @the-boy-meets-evil for beta'ing this despite being so busy. I love you dearly. Part of the Broken Illusions Stories
© wongyuseokie 2024. All rights reserved.
“Okay, I kept my mouth shut the entire dinner, but honey, this is the fifth time you’ve been back home since you and Mingyu moved in together, and I still see no ring. No signs of a marriage, nothing,” your mother started to say as she sipped her wine, making you groan as you took a large gulp of yours. 
“Can we not ruin every trip back home with this?” You moaned, and your mother shrugged. 
“I’m ruining nothing, but honey, ten years, and you two still aren’t engaged or together. As a mother, I want to know you have stability,” your mother spoke, looking down at the red-coloured liquid in her glass. 
“I don’t need a husband for stability,” you bit back, making your mother raise her brow in disapproval at you with your tone. 
“I never said that, but how long do you two just plan on dating? You two have moved in and been together for ten years. Now? Honey, he hasn’t even come back to visit the last two times you came,” your mother continued explaining, making you groan. 
“I’m thinking he dodged a bullet,” you mumbled, earning a sigh from your mother. 
“Besides, he hasn’t even proposed, so why should I pressure him?” You suggested, and your mother frowned at you. 
“You could ask him?” Your mother offered gently, and you sighed deeply.
“Or are you like him? Dragging your feet?” Your mother questioned, and you shrugged. 
“We’re comfortable. Why is that not enough for you?” You asked, genuinely wondering why your mother always brought this topic up.
“Is it enough for you? To be comfortable? If that’s what you are willing to settle for, then sure, but my love, comfort is fine, but it’s dangerous. When you’re too comfy in a relationship, you take every second for granted, and you think it’ll last forever, and you get lazy,” your mother lectured, making you roll your eyes at her. 
“Can you stop projecting your marriage or failed marriage onto my thriving relationship?” You asked immediately, feeling guilt surge through your veins at your harsh words. 
Your mother only ever wanted to help you. 
“Mum,” you started to say, stopping when she held a hand up to stop you. 
“It’s because of my failed marriage I can spot the warning signs from a mile away. I’m not saying you and Mingyu will be a repeat of what your father and I were, but if you don’t get clarity on where you two stand, you’ll always be in the grey with him,” your mother explained before finishing off her drink. 
“I don’t need him to prove anything to me, but when was the last time you spoke about the future?” Your mother asked, and you fumbled to give her an answer and came up blank, making your mother only sigh more. 
“Get some rest. You have an early train to catch tomorrow. This is food for thought,” your mother said kindly before standing up to hug you and heading upstairs. 
You sighed deeply, took in the night sky, and thought hard. 
You and Mingyu stopped discussing the future when he kissed you at sixteen. Sure, you two were young, but you knew in your heart he was the one. But as your relationship progressed, Mingyu seemed to hold onto the past, and anytime the future would come up, he’d change topics and walk away, and if he tried to reminisce, you’d walk away. 
You two were in different tenses, but neither of you ever wanted to acknowledge the present. 
The present, where the last time you two had a date night was five months ago, and the last time he made love to you—properly, not just a quick fuck or a sloppy blowjob—but the last time he was intimate with you, was also five months ago. The present you and Mingyu shared looked like a foreshadowing of a hollow future. You let out a frustrated groan. 
You and Mingyu had to talk if you wanted to save whatever you two had, but why did it feel like a part of you had already let go?
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“Sweetie, the wine may have made me too bold, and I apologise for overstepping. Your relationship is none of my business,” your mother apologised for the fifth time that day, and the most recent apology was in the car on the way to the train station. 
“It’s fine. I guess you’re not wrong. You did give me a lot to think about. I got defensive because I’ve felt distant from him, we’ve both not had the time, and I guess I felt like you were calling me out when I know that’s not the case,” you admitted, and your mother gave you a soft smile before turning back to look at the road. 
“It’s like a bandaid; maybe he feels the same, and a talk will help, but keeping it in your head, where your demons lie, that’s the worst, so just rip it off and let the wound heal with time,” your mother said wisely making you smile. 
“If anything goes wrong, I’m always a safe place for you to come home to,” your mother added, and you nodded at her, thanking her profusely as you hugged her goodbye. While you appreciated her offer, you did not want to be back here sobbing and seeking refuge in a week. 
 You shook your head, trying to free yourself of the thoughts taking over your mind, taunting you, that you and Mingyu were destined to end. 
You two would be fine; you both survived high school and university and would continue to do so in the long run, but one question kept plaguing your mind. 
Why was the main aim to survive? 
Why wasn’t it to rekindle the flame? 
Why did it feel so desperate, and why did he feel so far away? ~~ Warning Signs  ~~
It felt weird. That’s the first thing you noted the minute you placed your hand on the doorknob of your apartment. You usually didn’t notice such insignificant details, but the doorknob felt cold.
Was it a preemptive sign that you’d be greeted with coldness from Mingyu? 
Or was it the frost that had settled over your relationship that made everything you touched feel cold?
You drew in a deep breath for courage, something to face him. You knew him forever and didn’t know where the sudden apprehension came from. Why did it all feel so difficult? 
“Baby!” You were greeted with Mingyu yelling. His arms moved to wrap around your waist and carried you as he planted a soft kiss on your lips. 
“Missed you,” Mingyu mumbled against your lips, making you smile, but that moment was short-lived when you saw the state of the house. 
“What’s wrong? I know I didn’t do anything, considering you just walked in?” Mingyu joked, placing you down on the floor. 
“The house is a state. You knew I was coming home today. Why is it such a mess?” You complained, and Mingyu frowned, following you into the living room. 
“Why don’t you nap, and I’ll clean up?” Mingyu offered, and you shook your head. 
“How would I sleep if you’re cleaning up? It’d be noisy, jeez, Mingyu. You know it’s not rocket science to keep a household together,” you nagged, making him frown at you. 
“Why are you like this? You just walked into the house and started bitching, I thought you’d update me about how the trip was, but instead, you’re here kicking up a fuss,” Mingyu threw back, and you rolled your eyes at him. 
“A fuss? Mingyu, there’s nothing to update. All I got was the third degree about why my boyfriend of ten years can’t commit to anything more. Coming home, I realised her concerns were warranted because you’re still that kid, Mingyu. You wanted to be composed and strong, but even vocalising a future without him hurt you. You need to grow up because I don’t know how long I can keep doing this,” your voice faltered at your last words. 
“Wow, why don’t you tell me how you feel?” Mingyu mocked sarcastically, and you knew what he was doing. He was using his pride to cover his hurt, and you hated this quality of his. It made him annoying and standoffish. 
“I’m so over this. When you want to grow up and have a conversation like an adult, find me, but I’m taking a nap, and once I’m done, I’ll clean up; don’t bother helping. I’m used to cleaning up your messes for you,” you spat, knowing your words hit Mingyu hard. There is so much venom lacing your comments, piercing Mingyu’s heart. 
“The bedroom, you should sleep in the guest room. It’s a mess in our bedroom,” Mingyu mumbled, and you rolled your eyes at him, scoffing. 
“Of course it fucking is. What in this house isn’t a mess?” You asked, making Mingyu look down to the ground. You knew you had gone too far, but you had to make him hear you, and sadly, he only heard you when you were like this. 
“Whatever, I’m going to take a nap,” you mumbled, not having the energy to fight any longer as sleep started seeping into your bones. 
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You awoke a couple feeling extraordinarily guilty and groggy, but Mingyu should have known better. You never needed the house to look perfect, but it should have been clean. Or livable, like adults.  
You groaned, deciding to get out of bed and shower before starting the housework. At least it’d wake you up a bit. Since you were in the guestroom, you couldn’t find anything else to wear except one of Mingyu’s oversized shirts, and while you wanted to be petty and not put on anything that resembled him, you knew you were taking it too far. 
You sighed, putting on his shirt, smiling at you wrapped up in his clothes, taking in his scent. You never told him, but it always felt like he hugged you tightly, keeping you safe whenever you wore his clothes. They were like a security blanket, one you needed desperately because the owner of the clothes lately gave you no assurance about the relationship. 
“Mingyu?” You spoke as you stepped out into the hallway and walked into the living room. It was neat, clean, and tidy, and you immediately felt guilty. Mingyu didn’t deserve your harsh words; he would eventually get the job done, but that’s the problem. It was inevitable, and you didn’t know if you could wait any longer. 
You walked towards your shared bedroom to find Mingyu fluffing the pillows and jumping slightly when you touched his back, startling him. 
“Sorry, you woke up early, nearly done,” Mingyu rambled, and your heart broke when you heard his voice crack and took in his swollen, red eyes and puffy nose. 
“Baby,” you cooed, and Mingyu glared at you, jerking away from your touch. 
“Don’t call me that. I’m not a fucking kid,” Mingyu spat as he threw the pillow onto the bed and walked over to his side of the bed and sat down, and you crawled onto the bed and sat between his thighs, making him look at you.
“I’m so sorry, I was frustrated,” you apologised, and Mingyu scoffed. 
“You used all my insecurities, our past, and the fights we’ve had against me, and that sucked. You called me a kid. You insinuated that I couldn’t keep a household together when I’ve fought tirelessly for us for the past ten years,” Mingyu exclaimed in annoyance, his words making you snap. 
“No, you didn’t fight for us; you fought just to have the idea of us, but you got comfortable, but that’s all you’ve ever done. You’ve never taken the next step,” you cried out, and Mingyu groaned. 
“You’re insane. I fought, kept up with your life, adjusted mine, and did all that because I love you, but I don’t know what else to do because clearly, nothing I do is enough for you,” Mingyu answered, his voice getting softer. 
“You’re right, you did, but you stopped and got comfortable fuck, Mingyu. I don’t know if you see a future with me. You’ve given me no indication,” you started to say, earning a glare from Mingyu. 
“What do you want me to propose?” Mingyu asked, making you glare at him. 
“Not like this, and not because I forced you,” you added, and Mingyu groaned, getting off the bed and fiddling around in the drawer next to you. 
“I was going to do it tonight,” Mingyu admitted calmly as he tossed a black velvet box onto the bed. 
“What?” You asked, and Mingyu rolled his eyes at your confused expression. 
“I was going to give you forever tonight, but you never fucking wait, do you? You always rush into the future without caring for what you leave behind. You’ve been five steps ahead of me for so long, and forgive me if I slipped up somewhere along the way, but I got tired of running after you when you’re so ready to let go of me,” Mingyu answered tearfully. 
Mingyu plopped down on the bed, his back to you, his head hanging low. You could hear him take in shuddered breaths, and your heart broke because you knew you had hurt him this time. 
“Mingyu,” you started to say, moving simultaneously to place a hand on his shoulder, making him look at you with teary eyes as he turned around to sit on the edge of the bed to face you. 
“I know I’m not everything you want in a partner. I just thought our love would be stronger. That it would conquer everything, that you’d love me harder than our problems? I know I did, but I guess that’s how immature I am because I guess that’s not reality,” Mingyu lamented, and even though you knew his words could be misconstrued to hurt you, that wasn’t the case. He was thinking out loud. 
“Mingyu,” you repeated, making him sigh as he moved back to sit against the headboard, patting the space between his thighs again. This time, you moved to sit between them quickly, your hands moving to pull him into a tight embrace.
“I’m so sorry,” you mumbled into Mingyu’s hair as you patted his back, moving as he cried into the embrace. 
“For what?” Mingyu mumbled, his voice thick with emotion. 
“For ruining a proposal?” Mingyu asked, letting out a dry laugh as he pulled away from the embrace, wiping his tears away and staring at you. 
“You didn’t. I guess this fight was bound to happen fuck. I knew we were falling apart, but I foolishly thought that if I ignored our problems or loved you harder, then it’d be okay, we’d be okay,” Mingyu admitted, placing a hand on your cheek and wiping away a tear. You hadn’t realised you were crying until he wiped away the tears. 
“But I only did one thing. I only ignored our problems, and I know I only ignored you. I love you more than life, but I failed to show you how much, and now I’m hoping that a shiny ring will fix it all, and I know it won’t,” Mingyu continued to speak, taking a deep breath before speaking. 
“I’ve used up all my good graces, that I’m sure of, but can we try? One more time? Please? I don’t think I can let you go, not yet. I don’t think I can ever let you go, but if you give me one more chance, my love. I’ll try, and if it’s over, I’ll let you go. Don’t give up on me,” Mingyu begged, and you nodded. 
“Mingyu, I’m so sorry. I should have conveyed my feelings to you in a healthier manner instead of simply yelling. Everything I heard from my mum this weekend was in my mind, and I couldn’t get it out. I just kept going over it, again and again, and I hated it, and I guess I just took it out all on you, and I’m so sorry,” you apologised, cradling his face in your hands. 
“No, it’s okay. I think we both saw this fight coming. I guess it’s easier to rip off the bandaid?” Mingyu joked, a sad smile adorning his handsome face. 
“I just felt so far away from you, so distant, and I guess when everyone questioned me about the integrity of my relationship. It just annoyed me, and instead of talking to you, I lashed out, and I’m sorry for that,” you apologised, meaning every word. 
“I love you; I do. I know I haven’t been good at showing it, fuck, our last date was five months ago,” Mingyu started to say, and you knew he’d begin to spiral if you didn’t shut him up in the best way you knew. 
“Mingyu,” you said softly, making him look at you as you inched closer and crawled onto his lap, his hands naturally finding your waist. 
“We’ll talk, and we’ll be okay,” you encouraged before placing your lips onto his, making him melt into your touch. His hand moved from your waist to rest on the hem of your shit, well, his shirt, but he didn’t care.
“Fuck,” Mingyu groaned as you moved your lips away from his to latch onto his neck, kissing the soft skin, gently nipping it, leaving faint marks, and running your tongue over the spots you bit. 
“Baby, if you keep doing that,” Mingyu started to say as you pulled away from his neck to peel the shirt off your body, leaving you in your underwear. 
“I know we have a lot to talk about, and sex isn’t going to fix anything, but I do, for once, want to feel close to you again. I want to be loved by you,” you admitted, and Mingyu nodded, understanding what you meant as he got off the bed and peeled off his clothes. 
“You’re so fucking hot,” you blurted out, making Mingyu laugh. 
“Ten years and you still think I’m hot?” Mingyu asked, and you smiled fondly at him. 
“You’re always the most handsome man to me, doesn’t matter how many years,” you admitted, making Mingyu smile at you. 
“Lie down on your back, princess. I need to show you just how much I love you,” Mingyu instructed, and you nodded, quickly adjusting yourself until you were lying down on the bed, head on the pillow, making Mingyu grin at you as he crawled between your legs. 
Mingyu leaned forward, wrapping his lip around your nipple while his other hand massaged your other breast. Mingyu moved his mouth to your other breast and flicked and licked your nipples until they were hard. 
Mingyu gave them a final flick, earning a whimper from you.  “Oh, the sounds you make for me. I like them,” Mingyu praised as he reached for your panties. Mingyu pulled them off and threw them across the room. Mingyu rolled his eyes and parted your legs, and placed a soft kiss on your clit, making you buck your hips into his mouth. 
Mingyu ran his tongue along your slit. He wrapped his arms around your thighs, interlocking them at your stomach. Mingyu smirked against your pussy, knowing that he could eat you out for ages in this position, and you wouldn’t be able to move, and all you could do was fall apart on his tongue repeatedly.
This is precisely what Mingyu intended to do as he flicked your clit with his tongue, then wrapped his mouth around your clit, his tongue tracing circles along the swollen nub. Mingyu kept licking you, his pace never faltering, and his rhythm never changing. 
“Fucking hell,” you moaned as you threw your head back in pleasure. 
“So good,” you praised, making Mingyu smirk, continuing his movements, making you shake in his grip. 
“Mingyu,” you cried out in pleasure as you fell apart on his tongue, but Mingyu didn’t stop just because you came. He kept going, sucking on your clit as you rode your orgasm on his tongue. 
“Fuck, Mingyu,” you whimpered as he kept licking you, you were sure you were wailing, but you didn’t care. 
Not when you were on the precipice of your second orgasm. Your second orgasm hit you harder, and your hands moved to his head as you gently pushed his mouth away from your cunt. Mingyu smiled at you, taking in your fucked out expression.
You sat up abruptly, reaching out to touch his hard cock, but Mingyu stopped you. 
“Not tonight. I need to feel you, my love,” he said as he took his cock in his hands and moved to line it up along your pussy. 
“Fuck,” you gasped out as he entered you. It had been, so you two had sex, so the stretch was a slight shock but one you’d gladly welcome.  “Baby, you’re so tight, fuck,” Mingyu hissed as he pushed in further, making you clench around him immediately. You moaned as Mingyu bent down to pull you into a kiss as he started to thrust into you. 
You groaned and babbled nonsense as Mingyu pounded into you, moving his hand down to rub your clit as he fucked you. 
“Fuck,” you choked out, holding onto his toned arms. 
“Cum, pretty girl,” Mingyu encouraged as his fingers moved faster against your clit, making you shake and tighten on his cock. 
You held onto his muscular arms, “cum, baby,” Mingyu spoke breathlessly, making you shake and tighten around him. It felt incredible, making Mingyu groan as you came around him. 
“Fuck, fuck,” Mingyu chanted as he pounded into you, groaning as he buried his head between your breasts as he came. Mingyu placed a soft kiss on your lips, slowly pulling out of you. 
“That was amazing,” you muttered. Mingyu smiled as he laid down next to you and pulled you into his toned chest,
“I’m not saying this to avoid anything, but I know I skipped every step to make things right,” Mingyu said, pulling away gently from you.  
“Look, you’ve had a long journey home and a shitty welcome back. I ordered dinner. It should be here soon. Help yourself. Why don’t we chat tomorrow?” Mingyu offered, and you nodded at him. 
Mingyu smiled softly as he moved closer to you and kissed your forehead softly. 
“We’ll be okay,” he said with a smile, except you didn’t know if you could believe him. 
Despite the mind-blowing sex, you had just opened a bandaid that held in ten years of hurt. 
Now it was open. You would have to feel every burn and sting before you two could heal, and what if that wound was too far gone to recover?
 What if there was no saving you two?
~~ You Were My Crown  ~~
“Morning,” you mumbled to Mingyu the following day when he walked into the kitchen, hair wet, fresh out of the shower, handsome as always. 
“Hey,” Mingyu replied, walking over to kiss your forehead, smiling fondly at you as he sighed, sitting down on one of the counters by the kitchen island. 
“So, I was thinking that after last night, as amazing as it was, we should talk,” Mingyu said, and you pouted, nodding. 
While you did want to just bask in the bliss and romance of last night with him, you knew if you kept pushing your feelings down, then there would be no saving you two, so you decided to sit across from him, making him grin as he placed a business card on your lap. 
“A divorce attorney? Hate to break to you, but we aren’t married,” you joked as you picked up the card. 
“Oh, couples counselling?” You said aloud, reading the card, and Mingyu nodded at you. 
“I got this from one of my Hyung. They said that when they were about almost to call it quits with their partner, they went here, and even if it was painful and made them feel vulnerable, it’s the only thing that kept them together,” Mingyu explained, placing a hand on your knee. 
“You think we’re that far gone that we need professional help?” You asked with a dry laugh, and Mingyu shrugged. 
“I don’t think we’re too far gone, but we’ve been together for so many years that I don’t think it’d be too shocking if we’re both holding in a lot and not being straight up with each other, at times and I don’t want what happened last night to happen again. I don’t want us holding things in and exploding,” Mingyu answered calmly. 
“Even if the sex was amazing,” Mingyu added, making you smile at him. 
“Okay, shall we sort out an appointment or what?” You asked, making Mingyu smile sheepishly at you. 
“I kind of already sorted a slot out for us. They open early. They got us a slot today at 4 pm. Is that okay?” Mingyu asked, and you nodded at him. 
“Should I take it as a good sign that you’re so eager to fix us? Or a bad sign that you’re so ready to vent about me?” You joked, making Mingyu pout at you. 
“A good sign; I love you so much, and I’ll be damned if I let you go without a fight,” Mingyu answered. 
“Let me go?” You repeated.
“I mean if you want out and realise you deserve better after all this, I guess I’ll let you go,” Mingyu mumbled, unable to look at you. His answering, albeit genuine, made you scoff at him. 
“Wow, nice to see your resignation already,” you muttered, making Mingyu sigh deeply. 
“I’m not giving up, but tell me you don’t already have one foot out the door?” Mingyu asked, making you baulk at him. 
“Why would you even think that?” You asked, and Mingyu rolled his eyes at you, letting out a humourless chuckle. 
“You weren’t here, but a gift hamper did arrive from your boss, and while I never snoop, the card was stuck on the hamper. It was a card nudging you to take the plunge and be a manager. Across the world. Might I add? When were you going to tell me?” Mingyu asked, and you sighed. 
“You said you didn’t want to hear about work at home, remember?” You fired back, and Mingyu groaned. 
“I told you that five months ago when I had just lost my job, I wanted you to be able to speak to me. I don’t want surprises like that,” Mingyu gritted, and you sighed. 
“So I’m meant to be able to read your mind?” You asked, and Mingyu shook his head. 
“It’d be so much easier, wouldn’t it? You never give me a warning ever. You just fucking blindside me, you did this with this apartment, and you did it with this possible promotion,” Mingyu fumed, making you blink at him. 
“Look, can we just save this for the therapist?” Mingyu said, inhaling deeply, and you nodded at him, unable to speak. 
The apartment? You thought to yourself. Mingyu was elated when you brandished the new keys three years ago. Just how much had he held in, and for how long? 
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You were ignoring Mingyu for the rest of the day. Even when he came to get you to go to the therapist’s office, you glared at him, ignoring his outstretched hand, walked past him to your car and waited impatiently for him to get in so you could drive to the therapist’s office. 
“Can you at least wait for me to put my seatbelt on? Before you start driving?” Mingyu asked sarcastically, annoyance lacing his words. 
“Not my fault you’re fucking slow,” you bit back. You weren’t even sure what you were mad about, the fact that the gift ambushed him and didn’t give you a chance to explain. You felt guilty, and instead of speaking to him about that, you thought it’d be best to mask your hurt with insults. 
“So, fucking slow,” Mingyu muttered, buckling himself in, and you started to drive once he was safely fastened. 
“So, fucking slow, I’m always behind, aren’t I? I never know what you’re up to, or maybe that’s because you’re too fast,” Mingyu spat out in annoyance. 
“I waited for you to put your seatbelt on, right?” You retorted weakly, making Mingyu scoff at you. 
“That’s the only time you’ve waited for me, and if killing me wasn’t a crime, then I’m sure you would have driven off without a care for me,” Mingyu fumed, making you cower in your seat.
Is that what he thought of you? 
You tried not to let it show. You tried not to let the hurt show, but you couldn’t hold it in once you were in the parking lot of the therapist’s office. 
“We can get out, you know?” Mingyu sassed, earning a choked sob from you. 
“Is that what you think of me? I’m so busy trying to move ahead that I’d leave you for dead?” You asked, staring at Mingyu; your eyes blurred with tears, and your heart ached at Mingyu’s words. 
“Y/N, I’m sorry, I just fuck. I got frustrated,” Mingyu started to say, earning a glare from you.
“I get frustrated too, and you know, especially with you and our situation, but I have never once wished that you were dead. I wish we’d stop fighting and we were on the same page, sure, but dead? Fuck you, Mingyu,” you cried out, making Mingyu frown as he reached over to undo your seatbelt and pulled you across the console onto his lap. 
“I hate that you even could think of that. How could you think I would even want you dead?” You asked, smacking your fists childishly against his chest, making him pout as he took your hands into his. 
“I’m sorry, I am. I did misspeak. In some shitty way, I feel like if you do ever leave me, then it sure as shit will feel like death,” Mingyu admitted making you frown. 
“Why are you so hell-bent on the idea that I will leave you?” You asked, annoyed at his rhetoric, that you’d leave him. 
“I don’t know. After last night, the way you lost it, I don’t blame you, but damn, can you blame me. As I said, the way you reacted last night hurt. While I’m not shocked, I can’t deny that it hurt, but that wasn’t an excuse for what I said,” Mingyu answered, and you nodded at him. 
“You’re damn right it wasn’t,” you choked out, making Mingyu smile softly at you. 
“How’s this when the therapist asks what my downfalls are? I’ll explain that I’m not great at filtering my thoughts?” Mingyu offered, cradling your face, and you pouted, nodding at him. 
“No, that’s unnecessary, just don’t say stupid shit like that,” you pouted, and Mingyu nodded, kissing your lips. 
“I won’t, I promise. Now shall we go before someone thinks that we’re fucking in the car?” Mingyu asked, a smile creeping onto his handsome face, and you nodded, giggling at him. 
“Would that be so bad?” You teased, and Mingyu smiled as he pulled you in for a kiss. 
“No, it wouldn’t, but our appointment is in ten minutes, so shall we?” Mingyu asked, and you nodded, placing a final kiss on his lips. 
“Let’s go,” Mingyu said, sneaking another kiss as you finally climbed out of the car. 
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“Please make yourselves comfortable, and Doctor Kwan will be out to see you both in a minute,” the receptionist at the therapist’s office instructed you and Mingyu, and you both nodded before plopping onto the sofa. 
“This is so oddly comforting. I mean, the room, I thought it’d be like a doctor’s office, but it has a sofa and tissues and flowers on the wall,” you rambled nervously. 
“Yeah, I guess therapists want you to be comfortable, especially when you’re about to be very vulnerable for them,” Mingyu offered lamely, unable to come up with a proper answer. You saw him fidgeting and took his hands in yours. 
“Breathe. We’re here to work on ourselves. We’re going to be okay,” you said calmly, not entirely sure if what you said was a lie, but right now, you didn’t care if you had to lie to him. He was too jumpy.
“Mr & Mrs Kim, please accept my apologies. I just wanted to prepare the notes before we begin our session,” Dr. Kwan said as he sat across you two. 
“Well, you might want to apologise again. We aren’t married,” Mingyu said with a smile, but his voice had no real humour. You were prepared to ignore Mingyu’s quip until you saw him shoot a glare in your direction. 
“Oh, but we would have been, but tell me, Dr Kwan, am I meant to say yes when someone tosses a ring at me?” You shot back, and Mingyu scoffed, letting go of your hand and sinking into the couch. 
“We need your help because nothing I do is ever enough for her,” Mingyu spat out, making you groan. 
“Well, good to know what I’m walking into, Mr Kim. I should tell you that I most certainly knew you weren’t married. Often, couples hide their pain from their therapists, pretend it’s all good, and then tear each other apart behind closed doors. It was, hmm, call it a trick? This way, I can understand how temperamental and fragile this situation and I can provide and facilitate a safe space for you, too,” Dr Kwan explained, making Mingyu glare at him. 
“So, you made me insult my girlfriend for science?” Mingyu mocked, and you sighed. 
“No, he just pushed a button that I’d push, and you’d do the same behind closed doors, too, so instead of embarrassing me further, can you please shut up and let him work?” You asked curtly.  
“Okay, let me set a few ground rules before I get to work,” Dr Kwan started to say as Mingyu shot you a sad look. You immediately felt bad for snapping at him, but you couldn’t forget how ridiculous he was. 
 “Y/N, is it okay to address you by your first name?” Dr Kwan asked. You nodded.
“Mr Kim, is it okay to address you as Mingyu?” Dr Kwan asked, looking at Mingyu, and he hummed in response. 
“Perfect,” Dr Kwan said, leaning back. 
“As I was saying, rules. While I’m giving you guys a safe space to work things through, you must also be committed to ensuring this space stays safe. I appreciate anger, annoyance and frustration, but snarky, underhanded digs will not be tolerated or helped. Telling the other to shut up won’t help either. You can disagree and provide your perspective, but you will not interrupt or ignore each other and talk over one another. Can we agree to that?” Dr Kwan asked, staring at you both, and you nodded immediately.
“Good, now, let’s start. What made you fall in love with Mingyu?” Dr Kwan asked, immediately jumping into the session. You found it a little unorthodox but liked that he didn’t waste time with small talk. 
“We started dating in high school, months before graduation. He was a kind guy, and while he could have fit the bill of a stereotypical jock, he didn’t. He was humble, kind and grounded. I guess he was a jock with a heart,” you smiled softly, recalling that Mingyu was indeed just that. 
“He and I were paired up for a project, and I guess after we got our grades, I gave him a big hug, and somehow that hug turned into a kiss, and I guess, ten years later, here we are, in therapy,” your sweet tone fading and turning into a biter tone as you looked at the floor. 
“See, this is what she does, thinks of something nice and then fucks it up by following it up with some realistic bullshit. You were doing so well just reminiscing, and you couldn’t just stick to it?” Mingyu asked, his voice rising. 
“Another rule, no yelling,” Dr Kwan warned, making Mingyu groan. 
“She never lets us be happy long enough. She must always bring up something that kills the moment,” Mingyu added bitterly. 
“Then why are you with me if I’m such a killjoy?” you taunted, making Mingyu wipe away a tear. 
“Because I fucking love you because you’re so amazing and sure you’re persistent. The need to always think about the future is a pain. But I’m okay with it because I assumed I was part of that future, but I’m not sure if I still am recently,” Mingyu mumbled, making you groan. 
“You two need to hit reset. There’s a lot here, I want to see you both separately and together, but I need you two to try something for now. Throughout therapy, we will uncover a lot, a lot of love that you two have for each other, but we will also uncover a lot of pain and hurt, and I don’t want either of you not to have a space to cry it out, so can I suggest that for the next three months, we try something?” Dr Kwan offered, and you both nodded. 
“Anything to save us,” Mingyu mumbled, and you scooched over closer to him, placing your hand on his thigh, making him smile sweetly at you. 
“Ten years is a long time, and sometimes, you become accustomed to each other, which is wonderful, but it also means you hold in a lot. Anger, resentment and hurt, but because you’ve been together so long, you often suppress these emotions and hope they’ll go away, but they don’t. Instead, they linger like bad perfume, and it gets too much, and that’s where you two are now. I can see you are trying your best to hold onto the relationship, but you’re also scared, to be honest, for fear that it’ll go away, so here’s what I suggest,” Dr Kwan explained, pausing to take a sip of his water. 
“So, here’s what I propose, separate bedrooms for the next three months. You two can talk and kiss and be cuddly, but no sex because sex, as good as it may be, undoes a lot of the work, so if you two slip up, I won’t be mad, but it’s more work on your end. This process will take a lot out of you both, therapy, and it’s going to be new adjusting to a new dynamic, but it’s to allow you both a safe space to vent and to be you two have been with each other you’ve lost yourselves along the way, it’s time to find what you two are as individuals before you two can be a couple again,”
 “We never broke up. You know that, right?” Mingyu said, glaring at Dr. Kwan. 
“I’m aware, but you two are also just holding on, and I’m guessing that’s not enough?” Dr Kwan challenged, and Mingyu huffed out. 
“So, what we move out? Or one of us does?” Mingyu asked, continuing to glare at Dr. Kwan. 
“We have three bedrooms; we can just separate our stuff. We can each move into one of them for now,” you suggested, placing a hand on Mingyu’s thigh and making him look at you with sad eyes. 
“I just, I get that this is therapy, but why does it feel like you’re making us break up before we even have a chance,” Mingyu answered sadly, making you smile softly at him. 
“I’m telling you two to hit reset. You both need a fresh start, not away from each other, but you two need a break,” Dr Kwan answered softly, and Mingyu sighed, nodding. 
 “It’s three months, and we will evaluate every week. Is that good?” Dr. Kwan asked, and you nodded, noticing that Mingyu nodded slowly. 
“Three months, and we’ll be, okay?” Mingyu asked, turning to face you. 
“Yeah, we will,” you answered, unsure if you two would be, but you had to try.  
You had to try for him. 
For you.  ~~ I’m Not Your Problem Anymore  ~~
“So, that went well?” Mingyu said slowly, making you roll your eyes at his words as you kept driving. 
“The digs, the underhanded comments, you think that went well?” You asked, and Mingyu frowned. 
“You weren’t exactly a saint either,” Mingyu mumbled, and you sighed deeply. 
“Can we deal with this once we get home? I don’t fancy fighting while I’m driving,” you asked, and Mingyu hummed in response as he stared out the window, trying to pinpoint where it all went wrong. 
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“Talk,” Mingyu practically demanded the minute you shut the front door behind you. 
“Why the hell are you speaking to me like that?” You asked, and Mingyu groaned as he kicked off his shoes before sitting on the couch. 
 “You said some shitty things, and while I admit so did I, you acted like a child,” you started to say, stopping when you saw Mingyu’s hardened expression. 
“What is it with you calling me a child? May I remind you that we’re the same age?” Mingyu asked, glaring at you. 
“Then act like a fucking adult, you don’t talk, you lash out, and you just hope that love fixes everything, but it doesn’t. It’s not enough to keep two people together when they’re breaking apart,” you exclaimed, frustrated at yourself for being unable to maintain your calm and at him for never being realistic. 
“You always said that love will keep us together, that our love was stronger than anything out there. What happened to that girl? What happened to the girl who made wishes upon stars, kissed me goodnight, and hugged me whenever I was down? I fell in love with her,” Mingyu lamented, making your heart drop. 
“So, you don’t love me anymore?” You whispered, afraid of his answer. 
“I do, my love, but I’m just not sure you do,” Mingyu said, moving to wipe away a tear that fell down your cheek. 
“Why do you keep suggesting that?” You asked, shrugging his touch off, making him pout. 
“Well, you just moved away from my touch, in general, over, I don’t know, the last two years you’ve been in the future, and you’ve left me in the dust; you left me all alone. I mean, hell, I was the happiest when you told me you wanted to move in with me, but you didn’t even bother asking me to view a place. You just got the keys and showed up at my doorstep. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful, but it always felt like you’d cut me out of the process whenever you could,” Mingyu explained, his eyes getting glossy. 
“I know you wouldn’t intentionally make me feel unwanted, but that’s what it felt like. I felt like an understudy, waiting in the wings for you to consider my opinion,” Mingyu said. 
“I didn’t know,” you said lamely, and Mingyu nodded. 
“You wouldn’t, I never told you, and you’re not a mind reader, nor do I expect you to be. It would have been nice to know that you still cared for me even if everything went bad. Hell, the night I lost my job, you just kissed me and told me it’d be alright, and I get it, it’s a hard thing to comfort someone about, but my love, you didn’t even try, and granted, I’m sure there have been moments where I haven’t done my bit. Still, we were the couple that annoyed others with how mushy we were and how much we adored each other. Now it just feels like we tolerate each other,” Mingyu finished standing up, and you stood up and reached for his wrist, making him turn around to look at you. 
“Can you not walk away?” You asked, not a shred of anger in your voice. You just wanted to hear him. 
“I’m not. I am, however, getting some wine because I think we’ll need it,” Mingyu replied, pulling you into his chest and placing the softest kiss on your forehead. 
“Okay, so let’s talk,” you said, not wasting a second as Mingyu returned to the couch with two glasses of wine. 
“You waste no time, do you?” Mingyu asked, chuckling, and you shrugged. 
“I’d rather fix us sooner than later,” you commented, and Mingyu shrugged.
“Don’t good things take time? Besides, this isn’t something you can rush; didn’t you always tell me that patience is a virtue and that all good things take time?” Mingyu mumbled as he sipped his wine, making you glare at him. 
“What is with you and reminding me of everything I once did? Is that what you want? The ‘old’ me? The one you fell in love with ten years ago?” You snapped, making Mingyu frown. 
“You keep missing the point, I don’t yearn for the ‘old’ you, but I yearn for your love. It just seems like you’re putting up with me. I only remember the ‘old’ you because no matter how much we fought, I at least knew that you loved me,” Mingyu mumbled, making you frown at him. 
“Don’t fix it by saying that you love me. I know you do, but I wonder if you’re still in love me because that’s a big difference. I mean, some I know you do, but other days I feel like I’m watching you, unsure if I fit anywhere in your life, but what scares me most is that I’m not so sure I fit in your heart any longer,” Mingyu admitted taking a deep breath, before looking at you with teary eyes. 
“Can you tell me when I’ve hurt you? I’m sure it must have been many times with how you feel, but maybe the most recent example?” You asked, unsure how to respond to the fact that Mingyu poured his heart out to you, and all you could do was make him relive a moment where you had hurt him. 
“Not hearing about the promotion, that sucked, like I had to find out because of a present. Why didn’t you tell me?” Mingyu asked, nothing but hurt and genuine curiosity etching his features. 
“I guess when you told me you didn’t want to hear about work, I just stopped telling you. I didn’t want to make you upset,” you admitted lamely. 
“My love, I got over being let go. If I’m not wrong, I said that once, and a month later, I remember being fine and asking you to tell me about work and the hardships or the bad days at work, but you never did. You decided you wouldn’t share that part of your life with me. While I can understand why you thought I would continue holding a grudge, do you think I’d hold it until it broke us in two?” Mingyu asked, and you shrugged. 
“Would you have taken the job?” Mingyu asked, and you shrugged. 
“I don’t know,” you admitted, and Mingyu nodded at you. 
“Well, for what it’s worth, I’m over it, and if it’s something that’s in the past, I’m okay never to bring it up again,” Mingyu offered, and you smiled at him. 
“I’d like that a lot,” you answered. 
“I acted out of line with what I said in the car, and you’re right. I did act like a kid at the therapist’s office, but it’s just when it comes to the idea of possibly even losing you? Then my ability to think straight and act rationally goes to shit because there’s nothing rational about love, but you find that balance, and I’m willing to work on myself but wait for me? While I try and catch up?” Mingyu asked, making your lips tremble, and your tears fall. 
“I think for so long,” you started to say, pausing to wipe your tears away. 
“For so long, I thought you didn’t care. I thought you got comfortable, wanted to leave, or be comfortable enough to stay but not be with me. So I kept pushing on with my life because I didn’t think you wanted me to be in your future,” you admitted, staring into the wine glass. 
“Y/N, you and I. I guess we’ve both been living in different tenses. I’ve been too busy reminiscing our past, and you’ve been running into the future. It’s left our present a fucking shit show,” Mingyu observed, making you giggle at his description. 
“Let’s try? I want you to have the most amazing future, but can I ask you to slow down? Ever so slightly? To let me find my footing. I want to catch up with you so we can have a future. Together?” Mingyu asked, pulling you closer to him. 
“I can, and I’m sorry,” you apologised, and Mingyu shook his head. 
“It’s okay, from here on out, what we’ve both done, it’s forgotten and forgiven these next three months. Let us make a real go at this? At fixing us?” Mingyu asked, and you smiled in agreement. 
Mingyu grinned, pulling you into the softest kiss ever. 
“I know we are meant to separate rooms and all that, but can I just have you in my arms tonight?” Mingyu asked, kissing your forehead, and you nodded at him. 
You agreed because you didn’t know what the next three months would bring about, so for tonight, you just wanted to lay in his arms and forget the hurt and the reality because you’d never admit it like Mingyu would. Still, the thought of living in a world where he was no longer yours was enough to make you break your heart into a million pieces. 
“We’ll be okay,” you mumbled into Mingyu’s chest as he held you, and he responded with a kiss on your forehead. 
You frowned into the embrace. You just hoped it would come true if you said something repeatedly. 
If you kept saying that you and Mingyu would be okay, you would be.  ~~ Balancing on Breaking Branches ~~
“Moving day, huh?” Mingyu joked, making you grin slightly at him. 
“Barely, we’re just diving up rooms and our stuff. It’s just three months,” you answered as you walked over to your closet and mentally sorted out what articles you wanted to take.
“Actually, you can just stay in this room. Besides, I don’t have much stuff anyway, just some clothes and my computer has always been in a separate room,” Mingyu offered, and you smiled at him. 
“Thanks, it’d be a nightmare if you made me move all my things out,” you laughed, making Mingyu smile. 
“Besides, it’s all temporary, three months, and I’m back to cuddling you every night and sleeping,” Mingyu smiled. 
“What are you smiling about?” You asked Mingyu as he grinned to himself, looking around the room. 
“Just kind of thinking how we broke into this room and every other room and surface in this apartment,” Mingyu said casually, a blush creeping onto his face as he recalled the memories, making you smile shyly. 
“Sex in every corner of the house. I still can’t believe we did it in a storage closet, of all things,” you recalled, smiling but shaking your head at how you and Mingyu had really come through on the idea of breaking into every part of the house. 
“But the sex was pretty good, wasn’t it? A tighter space meant that I had to hold you closer to me and fuck you harder,” Mingyu teased, his voice low, dangerous and teasing. 
“Mingyu,” you warned, unable to keep the smile off your face, as you moved away from the closet and sat on the bed. 
“Besides, I’m just recalling fond memories, especially when we have a sex ban placed on us for three months,” Mingyu explained with a pout, making you smile. 
“Anyways, do you know where I keep my phone charger? I usually use yours, so,” Mingyu trailed off, and you nodded at him, knowing that he never bothered because you were always there, and it just wouldn’t be the same for the next three months. 
“Yeah, this drawer,” you gestured to the bedside table beside you. Mingyu nodded, rummaging through the drawer, and you noticed he kept searching for a while. 
“Did you not find your charger?” You asked, turning to face him, your eyes widening when you saw what he held in his hand. 
“Mingyu,” you started to say, making him smirk at you.
“Is that what I think it is?” Mingyu asked, and you groaned, cursing yourself. Mingyu walked over and grabbed the device. 
“A vibrator in plain sight?” Mingyu teased.
 “Can you give it back?” You groaned, and Mingyu grinned at you.
“Is this the one we bought and took with us on our trip to Bali? Where you couldn’t get enough of me?” You gulped, and you felt your mouth water.
“Not my fault you were shirtless for the entire trip. It’s hard to behave when you look like that,” you huffed out as Mingyu walked back to the bed with the vibrator in his hand. 
“So I’m hot?” Mingyu asked with a smirk. 
“You know you are,” you mumbled, and you knew you were about to undo all the therapist’s work with your one movement, but you couldn’t help yourself. 
Not when Mingyu was looking at you like that, wetting his lips as he caressed the vibrator in his hand. 
“Oh, do I?” Mingyu asked, making you glare. 
Instead of answering, you grabbed him by his shirt, pulling him into you. Mingyu pulled you into a kiss and pushed you down, one hand moving to your jeans and undoing them. 
You kicked off your jeans and panties, and Mingyu’s knuckles met with your wet folds.
“You’re soaking wet,” Mingyu muttered against your lips, and you nodded.
“Wait,” Mingyu instructed as he pulled your shirt off, 
“Beautiful,” he praised as he took in your nude state. 
“Pretty,” Mingyu muttered, moving his mouth along your body as he ran the vibrator along your folds. 
“Fuck,” you hissed as the cold metal touched your swollen cunt. Mingyu pushed two fingers into you and switched on the vibrator. You felt your eyes roll back as he started thrusting his fingers in and out of you. While the vibrator constantly pulsated against your clit.
 “Fucking hell,” you groaned, grabbing his muscular forearm. 
“Good girl, you take my fingers so well,” Mingyu moaned, praising you as you fell apart under his touch. You let out whimpers, biting your lips to stop yourself from screaming in pleasure. 
“Fuck,” you groaned, and Mingyu smirked at you, pulling his fingers out of you and bringing them to his lips. 
“Can’t we just, I guess, call that goodbye sex? Or something,” Mingyu asked as he stared at your fucked out expression.
“We could, but I think we need to tell our therapist,” you breathed, making him pout, “as good as that felt, we just took a few steps back,” you added, making Mingyu sigh as he leaned over to kiss you. 
“Three months, and we’ll be okay,” Mingyu claimed before placing another kiss on your lips. 
“This is just a little mistake. You wanted to honour his wish, but you also knew that lying would do you two no good. No need to tell the therapist,” Mingyu repeated, making you nod slowly at him. 
So, you did what was right. 
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“Okay, Y/N, what you did wasn’t odd or unusual. Maybe couples slip up, especially when it comes to sex and trying not to have it, and I get it. You two have been together for ages. Giving up sex isn’t easy, nor exactly is it meant to be,” Dr Kwan clarified, but you couldn’t help but feel like you were undoing everything. 
“You’re human. It’s normal to slip up, but being honest and working from that is important,” Dr Kwan added. You nodded. 
“Well, still, I’m sorry,” you apologised, making Mingyu scoff. 
“You kissed me; may I remind you that? So, stop acting like you’re wronged or something. You make me sound like a dick,” Mingyu spat out, and you were about to respond when Dr. Kwan cleared his throat, stopping you. 
“Well, Mingyu, you might have just given us the material for our first session. When do you two think it all went wrong? Between you both? Mingyu, I’d like to hear from you, and then you, Y/N,” Dr. Kwan suggested.
“Y/N’s been gifted, so good at everything she does, and I guess I’ve gone with the flow, but being an adult in this unforgiving world, that’s not enough. Not even, and it seemed like every time she was successful or achieved something, it made me feel smaller and like I wasn’t enough,” Mingyu rambled, making you look at him. 
“I know she never did it on purpose, but that’s how I felt, and I guess I stopped trying to be better for her because it always seemed like she was too far away for me to catch up to, and so I was just happy being in her life, as a spectator,” Mingyu finished letting out a deep exhale. 
“I don’t begrudge her for succeeding. I wished that sometimes she could look away from the blinding lights of success to notice me, just for a second at least,” Mingyu added, shrugging. 
“Did you ever wish for her success to go away?” Dr. Kwan asked, and Mingyu shook his head. 
“Never, I only wished that maybe I could do half of what she did, maybe then I’d be enough for her, but I know that’s not what she ever thought, but I internalised her success as a sign of my failures,” Mingyu answered.
“Y/N, is there anything you’d like to add?” Dr. Kwan asked. 
“I don’t know what to say. I didn’t realise he felt like that,” you answered lamely. 
You didn’t realise that Mingyu felt the way he did. He was always so guarded with his response and just quiet and silently supported you no matter what you did.
“I never told her to be fair,” Mingyu interjected, and you sighed at him. 
“I can’t read your mind. How do you expect me to understand if you don’t tell me something?” You asked, and Mingyu stared at you in disbelief. 
“The way I read your mind about a proposal?” Mingyu asked, and you groaned. 
“Okay, you two, we need to hit pause. There’s too much here to not cause a massive fight,” Dr. Kwan said, interrupting you two. 
“She didn’t even tell me that she got an opportunity for a promotion or anything. She keeps so much to herself and then gets mad when I can’t read her mind,” Mingyu added, and you sat in annoyance, but you stayed quiet, knowing that he wasn’t wrong with his judgements. 
“I lost my job five months ago, and since then, she’s never really told me about her success and in her defence, I did tell her not to talk about it, but I know that after a week or so, I told her that it was okay, but she just kept everything to herself,” Mingyu added. 
“I didn’t want to hurt you,” you started to say, turning to face Mingyu.
“I know you said it was okay, but you always put others before you, and I didn’t want to be another reason for you to suppress how you felt,” you explained, placing your hand on his, and he responded in kind, moving his hand to lace them with yours. 
“I see that love is not lost between you two. You need to figure out how to communicate. In a relationship as long as yours, it’s easy to assume that the other party knows or should know. Still, the truth is, all the familiarity and knowledge in the world is never enough to predict how humans will behave,” Dr. Kwan said wisely. 
“I went to visit my mum; the night before, we had a huge fight which led us here; she kept pushing and asking if something was wrong with us because it had been ten years, and there was no proposal. So, I kept trying to diffuse the situation, but unfortunately, her words sowed a seed of insecurity in me. I lost it and snapped at Mingyu, which caused him to reveal the fact that he was going to, in fact, propose to me that night,” you rambled, explaining what you thought was the final breaking point. 
“I see, Y/N. Mingyu, is being married something you two have always wanted to be? Or is that something that you two have never discussed?” Dr. Kwan asked. 
“We discussed it, I think, after our first year together. Mingyu brought it up,” you recalled, smiling at you fondly and starting to explain the memory.  ~~
Nine years ago
“In my defence, their vows were touching, and that’s why I ended up crying like a baby,” Mingyu defended, making you laugh as you wiped his teary eyes and kissed his red nose. 
You both were in the powder room, helping Mingyu look more presentable after he cried his eyes out at your cousin and her husband exchanging their vows. 
“But I also started to imagine, what if it was us up there? One day? Look, I always found weddings boring in the past because I was like fuck this. I’m always watching other people find their ‘happily ever after,’ but I have wanted that for us since you came into my life. Our happily ever after,” Mingyu declared, making you smile at him, your eyes holding but love and fondness for your boyfriend.
“Okay, I know we’re only 19 and legit, maybe way too young to decide the future now, but I know this for sure, regardless of when that moment happens. I just know that there is no one else I want to spend the rest of my life with; only you complete me, and a life without you, well shit, that’s just miserable, isn’t it?” Mingyu spoke, making you swoon at him. 
“How’d I get so lucky?” You asked as you pulled him into a soft kiss, making him smile into the kiss. 
“I think it’s me. I’m the lucky one,” Mingyu mused. 
“How about we’re both lucky?” You added, and Mingyu smiled. 
“Lucky to have found a love like this; yeah, we’re pretty fucking lucky,” Mingyu agreed as he pulled you into another kiss. 
~~
“Huh?” You asked as you felt Mingyu’s fingers on your face and realised he was wiping away your tears. 
“It was so much easier, and I just want that back,” you cried, and Mingyu, out of instinct, moved closer, pulling you in closer to him. 
“Y/N, you two were younger, and the world is kinder to two kids in love than adults in love. Nothing like taxes, societal expectations, or work threatens the tenderness and beauty of love. Still, with patience and dedication to fix the relationship, you can get through it, and it doesn’t seem like Mingyu wants anything else but the same thing as you,” Dr Kwan explained, making you smile through the tears and placing a kiss to Mingyu’s cheek, making him blush. 
“I’ll schedule you two for a week later, but let’s keep up the same routine. No sex and kisses are fine, but keep it to that. When you two filled out the form, I think you mentioned that your first date was at a dive bar? Why don’t you two, over the weekend, go to one, not as a date, but go and maybe rekindle the memories, remind yourselves that the pain of therapy is worth it,” Dr. Kwan suggested, and you both nodded. 
“We can do that,” Mingyu answered, and you smiled at him. 
Maybe this is why you two needed someone to guide you both through all the pain, and today felt like a breakthrough, and perhaps that’s what you both just needed, someone to help you get through the shitty parts to get to the good part. 
You two weren’t broken but bent, and someone needed to straighten you out. 
“We can. We can be okay again,” you mumbled, but you knew Mingyu heard it with the way he squeezed your hand softly. 
“We will,” he whispered in your ear. 
~~ Never Learned to Read My Mind ~~
You and Mingyu really did try hard. The kisses were kept to a minimum, almost so much that Mingyu got frustrated with you. He eventually pouted enough one evening. It ended up in you two having a thirty-minute make-out session. 
“We shouldn’t,” you mumbled as you continued to kiss him. 
“See, you say that, but you’re kissing me,” Mingyu replied, moving his lips away to speak, only to place them back on yours within a second.
“Mingyu,” you warned, pulling away and making him sigh at you. 
“Fine, but can you blame me? This is the first time you and I have spoken and kissed in two weeks, and no, that goodnight kiss three nights ago doesn’t count. I just get that Dr. Kwan said we should try to find ourselves and all that, but it feels like you’re acting like we’ve already broken up or something,” Mingyu admitted, frowning. 
“I’m giving us space to grow,” you defended, and Mingyu nodded. 
“I get that, but shouldn’t it foster an environment of encouragement? The space you’ve created is cold and uninviting, like hell. Your room door is always closed,” Mingyu added, making you pull away from his touch and sit next to him instead of on him. 
“I’m working, Mingyu. I don’t have as much free time as you, so forgive me if I want some peace and quiet while I work,” you sassed, and Mingyu pouted. 
“Free time? You mean unemployed?” Mingyu joked, but you glared at him. 
“Stop putting words in my mouth. You know that’s not what I meant to say,” you huffed, and Mingyu nodded. 
“Okay, forget it. I only say that because I wanted to show you something the other day, and your door was closed,” Mingyu explained, and you nodded at him. 
“So, show me now?” You suggested, and Mingyu nodded, pulling up yet another photo he took of a cake that served as inspiration–he’d been taking pictures of cakes, cookies and many other baked goods for the last few months, telling you it was for something unique. Still, to you, it just seemed like he was building up his ‘cakes I like’ Pinterest board.
“See?” Mingyu asked excitedly.
“What am I meant to be seeing? Another cake? All you do is take pictures of the cake. Where is this going?”
“You could have bothered to ask more about it instead of dismissing it entirely. I don’t dismiss things that excite you,” Mingyu mumbled. 
“Fine, show me,” you asked, and Mingyu shook his head at you. 
“No, because you’re asking because you feel bad, not because you care, forget it. You’re right it’s just cake. How would you notice? How would you notice when you haven’t noticed anything about me in the last few months?” Mingyu spoke, making you groan in frustration. 
“Sorry, that was unnecessary. Look after work tomorrow. I made reservations at a dive bar for us, I’ll send you a location, and you can head over after work?” Mingyu asked, and you nodded at him. 
“Night,” Mingyu mumbled, kissing your cheek as he got up and sulked as he walked to his room. 
You felt terrible. Since when did you stop caring about the little things, especially him? He was always doing much more, but you didn’t know why. It never felt like it was enough for you. 
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“Hey!” Mingyu greeted you the following evening as you approached him at the dive bar. 
“This place is quite nice,” you commented, and Mingyu nodded. 
“Are you drinking?” Mingyu asked, and you shook your head. 
“I drove here,” you replied, and Mingyu pouted. 
“Let me drive and have a drink. I have a scratchy throat, so I can’t really drink,” Mingyu offered, and you looked at him in shock. 
“When did you get a cold?” You asked, had you really been so unkind and caring to not even ask your boyfriend if he was unwell. 
“Nah, just a tickle, don’t worry, I got meds, and I’m on the mend,” Mingyu added, ushering you away, and you frowned at him but decided against pushing further. 
You were glad you were tipsy, but you weren’t exactly happy at the scene unfolding in front of you an hour later. 
A random girl decided to approach Mingyu to gush about how handsome he was and how incredible his biceps were and even went so far as to trace his arms, and that was it: you saw red. 
You hated how he didn’t stop her, either. Instead, he giggled and flexed a bit more.
“Miss, do you always with other people’s boyfriends?” You spat out, and the girl stepped back in fear upon hearing the venom in your voice. 
“No, oh my god, I’m so sorry. You just didn’t look like you were his girlfriend. You just sat there, far away from him, and you two barely spoke, so I thought it was okay to appreciate it, but I’m so sorry,” the girl apologised, but you couldn’t help your anger. 
“So even then, you just flirt with anyone you see?” You asked, embarrassing the girl, and Mingyu turned to face you with a hardened expression, apologising to the girl first. 
“What the hell was that?” Mingyu 
“Home, now,” you answered, and Mingyu sighed as he paid for the bill while you stormed out of the bar. 
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You stormed into the house, and Mingyu followed you into your room. You saw red. There was no other colour in the world, only red. You couldn’t believe Mingyu giggled and smiled at the girl like he did. 
The way he would with you.
“That was so uncalled for,” Mingyu started to say, making you whip your head to look at him. Your eyes were red and watery, and Mingyu immediately wanted to put the fight to bed and hold you in his arms. 
Mingyu mentally slapped himself, but all he did was laugh and smile at the girl. She complimented him, and for a second, he lost his mind and indulged because it had been so long since he felt good about himself. So long since someone called him handsome, and hell, you stopped acting like you were interested in him, but it was wrong and stupid, and he caused you to cry. 
“Right, me telling a girl to back off my man is wrong and pushing her away was uncalled for? Did you like it then? The way her tits pressed up against your chest. Is that why you didn’t pull away when she wrapped her arm around yours? Would you have backed away if I didn’t push her away, or would you have gone home with her?” You accused, ranting and firing away accusations at Mingyu, who paused to frown at you, but he knew he didn’t have a reason to defend himself. 
“I’m sorry I didn’t stop her, but I would have never cheated. I just got caught up in the attention, it has been so long since you ever showed me any affection, and I liked it, thinking that, oh, I don’t know, at least I’m not chopped fucking liver,” Mingyu fired back, making you shrink. 
“You couldn’t tell me that? You had to get some leggy chick to get your validation?” You asked, your voice trembling. 
“You don’t make it easy to speak to you. You’ve taken this ‘break’ so seriously that I feel like you’re just practising for the real thing. Last week, I got a new cookbook, and. In the past, you’d always be excited to see if I could replicate any recipes, but now? You didn’t even care to see it. I got a new shirt for our date night, and you didn’t compliment me. I’m not saying I need to be coddled, but you act like my presence is a bother, so forgive me if I wanted to seek out someone’s compliments because you know what? I can’t recall the last time you ever said I was good at anything,” Mingyu scoffed, making you standstill. 
“You have so many cookbooks; how is it different from the dozens you have? How was I meant to notice just one?” You asked, and Mingyu stared at you. 
“That’s not the point. Whenever I want to share anything with you, you act like it’s the biggest inconvenience or you don’t care. Either way, it doesn’t make me feel good about myself,” Mingyu sputtered out, his anger bubbling, and he knew he had to stop this fight before he said something he regretted. 
“Look, we’ve both had a lot to drink. Maybe we should talk about this later?” Mingyu offered, as he tried to guide you to the bed, to help you sleep so you wouldn’t continue this drunken rant. 
“So, you entertained her because she gave you attention, or was she prettier?” You asked, immediately feeling your eyes well up. You tried not to break in front of him. He was the one flirting with another woman, not you, but you couldn’t help how insecure it all made you. 
Was he done with you? Was this his subtle way of telling you he wouldn’t care?
“Hey, no, don’t you dare,” Mingyu interrupted your thoughts as he cradled your face. 
“No one is more perfect than you. I’m sorry for giving in to the attention. No matter how bad we are, it’s not an excuse,” Mingyu explained as he wiped away the tears that fell down his face. 
“But she noticed what I didn’t. Maybe deep down, that’s all you want, and I wish I were better for you,” you replied tearfully, making Mingyu’s heart ache with how you tore yourself apart. 
“Mingyu!” You squeaked when you felt him carry you and sit on the bed. 
“Take this off,” you mumbled, pointing to his shirt, and you stared at him for a second as he peeled his shirt off. 
You leaned down to kiss his shoulder, then another, until you reached his neck. 
“Y/N, baby, you’re drunk,” Mingyu groaned, trying to suppress a moan, hoping his body wouldn’t betray him as he melted under your touch. 
“We’ve had sex drunk before. I’m pretty sure our first time was when we were both drunk,” you spoke as you moved to kiss his jaw, making him wrap his arms around your waist. 
“Baby,” Mingyu groaned as his hands moved to rest above your ass. 
“Hm?” You asked, looking at him, pausing before your lips connected with his. 
“Let me show you just how much I love you,” Mingyu said, giving in to your touch as he stood up and swiftly placed you on the bed. Mingyu usually would at least take some time peeling your clothes off, unravelling each bit of your body to him, but he couldn’t wait tonight.
“So fucking pretty,” Mingyu praised as he laid between your thighs, your dripping cunt at his face. 
Mingyu slowly moved his finger inside you, “do you want to cum? You’re already clenching my finger so nicely, baby,” Mingyu praised as he rolled his thumb over your clit. You nodded. Mingyu pulled his finger out of you, making you whine. 
Mingyu smirked at you before latching his lips onto your clit. 
“Fuck,” you moaned at the contact.
“Mingyu, wait, stop,” you said, making him sit up immediately. 
“Did I go too far?” Mingyu asked, worrying, lacing his handsome features. You shook your head and moved your foot to his growing bulge. 
“Please fuck me, just I need you,” you begged, and Mingyu wasted no time in peeling off his clothes and positioning himself between your legs and pushing into you, making you moan and hiss at the stretch.
Mingyu placed your legs on either side of his shoulder. He pushed in and fucked you hard and deep. His pace was relentless, and you whimpered at his pace.
“Fuck, Y/N, baby, I’m so sorry, but I need to cum,” Mingyu moaned as he pounded into you.
 “It’s okay, fuck me, Mingyu.”
Mingyu removed your legs from your shoulder and flipped you onto your hands and knees. He pushed into you, his hands gripping your hips. You nearly collapsed at how deep he was hitting inside you.
“Fuck, more, please. Mingyu.” He bit down on your shoulder then kissed and ran his tongue over the area.
 “Fuck, fuck,” Mingyu cursed as he came inside you, moaning as his cum filled you. You felt him flip you over again, his mouth latching onto your cunt again, licking and cleaning you, making you cum again in the process, and you pushed his head away gently as you came again. 
“No more baby, too sensitive,” you moaned, making Mingyu smile sweetly as he placed a soft kiss on your trembling pussy. 
“Wait, stay, please,” you asked, pouting at him, making him smile. 
“I will. I was just going to clean you up properly and give you a shirt. You always get cold after sex,” Mingyu said, making you smile. 
“Stay here,” Mingyu said, kissing your forehead as he headed out to grab you a shirt. He returned with a wet towel and gently pressed it against your throbbing pussy, smirking at your reaction. 
A few minutes later, you were clean and dressed in one of his shirts. 
You were already nodding when Mingyu’s arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you into his chest. Mingyu moved his hand under your shirt and placed his arm around your waist. 
You moaned softly as he drew small circles into your skin. You gently pushed his arm away and turned to bury your face in his chest, making him smile.
“I love you,” Mingyu mumbled, and you weren’t entirely sure if you heard it, but for a while, you didn’t mind falling asleep in his arms, pretending that you two were alright.
~~ I Think I’ve Seen This Film Before ~~ 
“So, you two had a fight and fixed it with sex,” Dr Kwan summarised, and you and Mingyu looked to the ground. 
“Look, we’re barely three months into this, and while I like that you both love each other enough to be intimate, it seems like you use sex as a coping mechanism to put actual issues on the back burner until they inevitably blow up in your face,” Dr Kwan added. 
“It was a misunderstanding,” Mingyu defended. 
“A series of misunderstandings has brought you two here, and right now, you two are giving in too quickly,” Dr Kwan added. 
“Maybe three months is too long. Can we try a month, no intimacy, nothing, please? Then we can revisit this issue?” Dr Kwan suggested, and you both nodded. 
“Dr Kwan, can I request one thing, though? Can I ask that my lovely girlfriend and I go for one more date, like a proper one, the way we used to be before we tried the full-on ‘break’ thing?” Mingyu asked, and Dr. Kwan nodded. 
“Y/N?” Dr Kwan asked, and you shrugged. 
“I don’t see why not,” you answered, making Mingyu smile, and you noticed how his smile reached his eyes for the first time in so long. 
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“We’re here!” Mingyu announced as he parked the car outside a carnival, helped you out of the car, and held your hand like he always did, complimenting you from home to the carnival gates. 
“It’s crazy empty?” You asked him, and he smiled.
“It opens next week, but I pulled a few strings; I wanted to enjoy this with you and only you,” Mingyu admitted, a blush creeping onto his face, making you smile at him. 
“Shall we?” He asked you nodded. 
He took you to nearly every booth, and with each new game, your smile grew, as did his. You didn’t think it was possible to fall in love with him all over again, but here was proving you wrong. 
“Hey, you okay?” Mingyu waved his hand in front of your face. You were both finally back in the car after a night of kisses, jokes and games, and you smiled at him. 
“Yeah, just thinking,” you answered. 
“About?” Mingyu asked, and you turned to face him, 
“I didn’t think it was possible to fall in love with someone again, but tonight, with you. I think I may have just fallen in love with you all over again,” you admitted, making Mingyu smile as he leaned over to pull you into a kiss. 
“I love you,” Mingyu said as he pulled away from your lips. 
“I love you too,” you answered, making him grin. 
“We’re okay, we’ll be okay,” Mingyu assured as he took your hand and drove home. 
However, when he said it, you didn’t find any comfort in his words because you knew that you were about to hurt him, not because you wanted to but because you had been reflecting and noticed that all this time. 
Mingyu had been bending backwards to become the version of a man you supposedly wanted. Still, all this time, you only complained and poked holes and found flaws; he loved you despite all this. His love for you was too forgiving, too great, and one you didn’t think you deserved any longer. 
So you could only do what you did best, and that was to hurt him before he broke himself trying to fix the both of you.
~~ You Were My Crown  ~~
Mingyu was fuming. Well, not even raging would do justice to how angry he was. It was almost comical. He thought smoke would come out of his ears like a cartoon character. It would have almost been funny. 
Almost. 
However, nothing about this moment or the letter in Mingyu’s hand was funny; none of this was funny. 
“Hey,” you chirped as you walked into Mingyu’s bedroom. He was late for dinner, and your smile dropped when you saw his face and then recognised the paper in his hand. 
“Mingyu,” you started to say and stopped as he held a hand up to stop you. 
“Dear Y/N, you’re incredible, and I want you to consider this position again. You have insights that set you apart from everyone else. I think you could do an amazing job helping us set up our offices in Japan,” Mingyu read out the letter, his voice fading into a whisper at the mention of Japan. 
“I thought we were past this?” Mingyu asked, and you immediately felt yourself become defensive.
“No, I only said that to calm you down, but Mingyu, this is my career,” you protested, making Mingyu scoff. 
“I’d never stop you from pursuing your dreams. I know you’re good at your job. I’d encourage you to take this position, but you lied, and you got this three days before the date night and didn’t bring it up? It fucking hurts, and when I asked you if you were happy, you said yes? But kept this from me? What were you going to do, just fucking pack up and leave me?” Mingyu asked, raising his voice, making you roll your eyes at him. 
“Don’t you dare give me an attitude! You hid this from me. Why?” Mingyu asked, tossing the letter onto the floor. 
“We can still talk about it, and then we can figure out a way with schedules, and maybe I can save and fly out and visit you,” Mingyu rambled, making you bite your lip as you knew what you were about to say next would break him. 
“I accepted the job,” you whispered, but Mingyu heard you clearly. Your voice rang in his ears, four words taunting him, haunting him. 
“Mingyu,” you said, trying to approach him, and he moved away from you. 
“You did what?” Mingyu asked, not wanting an answer. 
“I just didn’t think us doing these three months did us any good, yes we got to get our issues out in the open, but Mingyu, we still broke the main rule, we had sex, we couldn’t be bothered to make it work without fucking,” you defended, each word piercing Mingyu’s heart deeper and deeper. 
“Doesn’t the fact we couldn’t stop loving each other show you how tethered we are to one another? How much we need each other?” Mingyu asked, and you shrugged. 
“Yes, a crippling need,” you answered, making him breathe deeply, trying to hold back a sob. 
“So, you just decided to do what you do best? Hurtle into the future without a fucking care for me? I gave up everything for you to make you happy, and you’re fucking running?” Mingyu taunted, making you snap.
“I never asked you, but you were so fucking stupid to have walked away from friends. Friends who could give you a job or something, and now, you’re here begging me to stay because you didn’t get your shit together,” you spat out, knowing that none of your words held any truth. 
Still, you needed him to stop fighting because you weren’t sure if you could anymore. 
“You didn’t ask me because I thought it was you and me against the world,” Mingyu yelled. 
“Well, it’s not! Grow up! Get a job, plan your future instead of ruining mine just because you don’t have a planned future,” you fumed, stopping yourself, but you knew it was too late. 
“No, you’re right. I don’t because I thought you were my future, but now, you’re gone, so I guess you’re right. I don’t have a future, so please leave,” Mingyu asked. You couldn’t help yourself, but you knew if you comforted him now, you’d give in, and you couldn’t. 
“Mingyu, this is my apartment, so why don’t you step right out?” You mocked, making Mingyu let out a broken sob. 
“I can’t waste my time and cry for you any longer. There’s no more crying that I can do for you,” you added as Mingyu pulled out a suitcase and started to throw his things in. 
“You can leave in a week or something. There’s no rush,” you mumbled, feeling nothing but shame and guilt. 
“You were my homeland. You were my safe space, and now that you’ve gone and thrown me out, put me in exile, what’s the point? This isn’t my house anyway, and clearly, I’ve overstayed my welcome,” Mingyu answered tearfully as you watched him pack. 
You stood and watched him pack and remove the necklace you once gave him and place it on the bedside table. 
Mingyu took another look around the room and then wiped his face before grabbing his passport and documents out of a drawer and stuffing them into the suitcase. 
“Where will you go?” You asked, and Mingyu shook his head. 
“That’s none of your concern, I’ll be fine, but you,” Mingyu paused to steady his voice. 
“You’ll be fine, excel at everything, and do so well, my love, shit sorry, Y/N. You’ve always been amazing, so thank you for the last ten years of my life, and oh, when you fall in love again, tell him to be good to you,” Mingyu rambled, pausing to smile at you through his tears. 
“But please apologise to that guy because if there’s a weepy guy at your wedding, oh fuck, never mind, why would you invite me. Fuck I’m babbling. You don’t want this. I’ll be on my way,” Mingyu paused his ramble to kiss your forehead. 
“Please stay safe,” Mingyu said before practically running out the door. You waited for him to leave until you couldn’t hear his footsteps in the hallway break down. 
“Fuck!” You cried out, you felt so much pain engulf you, you felt as if someone had snatched your heart out of your chest, you felt as if you had a thousand cuts all over your body and that each second, someone was pouring salt into every wound. 
You didn’t know pain like this. You fell to the floor sobbing, unable to withstand the pain, letting it engulf you. So, you let it. You did this, and you deserved to be hurt. 
“I’m so sorry,” you apologised to the empty room. You broke him and yourself, but you weren’t his problem. You lost the right to care when you threw him out. 
So, you’d do what you do best, push through, ignore the pain and push into the future because if you ran fast enough, you might forget the present and perhaps the pain wouldn’t catch up to you any longer.  6 Months Later
Your method wasn’t foolproof. 
Simply running away from your problems only brought you temporary comfort. 
It allowed you to plaster a fake smile and get things done. It brought you false hope when you told your mother that you had let him go. 
Your method was like a ticking time bomb. You’d hold off only for so long. You knew your pain and your actions would catch up to you. 
Eventually, you took steps to prolong it. You had blocked Mingyu on every possible social media site. You even put all his things in storage and scrubbed the apartment clean, and when you were done, there was no proof that he ever existed in your life. 
You acted like he was a ghost because, somehow, it was easier believing that in some twisted way than picking up the phone and apologising or checking in. 
It was easier this way. You put a bandaid on a wound that had cut through every part of you, foolishly hoping it’d be enough. 
That stupid bandaid got you through your life in Japan. You’d find moments where you’d think of Mingyu, wondering how he’d love certain foods and sights, but you would push any thought of him away, and you were doing a good job. 
Until you were going through your things and found a black journal. You were familiar with it the moment you opened the journal. You wished you could have gone back in time and undid everything because opening up the journal made you feel like you just ripped open the bandaid. 
It was Mingyu’s journal. 
A journal dated the day you two started therapy. You knew it was wrong to read his innermost thoughts, but maybe you’d get closure. So, you got a bottle of wine and began to read.
Most of the entries did nothing but break your heart repeatedly until you came across the last one. 
It was dated the night of the date, your last date with him. 
“I can’t wait to surprise her tonight. I think we’re going to be okay,” Mingyu wrote. 
Your heart stopped. 
A surprise, he was planning something that night. 
What was it? 
You had to find out. 
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You had planned most of your life down to the last detail, so randomly catching a plane, after calling your boss and randomly quitting, and landing back home after six months felt odd. 
This was home, so why did it no longer feel like it? The way you had shut your heart to Mingyu, had this town also shut you out, decided that someone as heartless as you didn’t deserve another chance?
You had unblocked Mingyu on socials in a feeble attempt to try and find him, and you saw that he frequented a bakery often. It was a shot in the dark but your only shot. You hailed a taxi from the airport and gave him the address to the bakery. 
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You ran into the bakery, huffing as you lugged two suitcases. 
“Can I help you, miss?” A beautiful girl asked you, and you stared at her. 
“No, but you have a frequent customer, Mingyu?” You asked, causing the lady to laugh. 
“Customer, honey, he’s the owner? Do you have an appointment with him, or would you like a consult? He’s got a free evening, so I can pencil you in. Just walk all the way, and when you see a white door with golden roses on it, you’ve found it,” the lady instructed, and you just moved on autopilot as you reached his door. 
Your knuckles trembled as they knocked against the door, his door. 
“Come in!” A cheery voice you yearned to hear for so long, a voice you missed every day and every night replied. 
You pushed the door open and noticed that Mingyu was too busy sketching to look up, and he continued drawing. 
“Just take a seat, make yourself comfy. Sorry, just finishing up a sketch,” Mingyu said mindlessly, and you stood still. 
Taking him in, his hair was longer, he’d coloured it too, a light brown, and he looked handsome, but also he looked healthy like he was sleeping and resting and happy. 
You noted how focused he was on his work. Mingyu was always handsome to you, but even more so when he was doing something he loved. 
“Seriously, it’s okay. Make yourself up at home,” Mingyu started to say as he got up from his chair. 
“Y/N?” Mingyu asked as he finally noticed you. 
“Oh my goodness,” Mingyu broke into a broad smile as he rushed to hug you, and you could feel the tears pooling in your eyes. How could he? 
How could he look at you with so much kindness after what you did to him?
“Oh my gosh, how are you? You look well. How’s Japan, and how’s the job?” Mingyu asked a question after making you stare at him. 
“I found this,” as you moved away from his embrace, practically slapping the journal against the chest. 
“Oh, I’m guessing you read it?” Mingyu asked with a smile. 
“What did it mean, the surprise?” You asked, and Mingyu smiled at you. 
“Can you spare me some time? I don’t want to have that conversation here, but if you can wait a few minutes, we can return to mine, and I’ll explain every word you read?” Mingyu offered, and you nodded at him. 
“Babe!” The same girl from the front desk walked into Mingyu’s office. 
Babe? 
You felt your blood run cold. It made sense for him if he moved on, but her? The woman who looked like she was everything you weren’t, maybe that’s why he wanted her. 
“Sorry to interrupt, but I just wanted to check what you wanted to do for dinner tonight. If you want, I can make pasta?” She kept speaking, each word twisting the knife in your chest deeper. 
“Yuna, this is Y/N, a good friend,” Mingyu introduced, and you forced a smile for her. 
That’s all, but what would he introduce you to her? A friend? His ex, the one who broke his heart? 
“Oh, you guys were friends in school, right? Nice of you to visit, so I guess raincheck on dinner? Oh, babe, please don’t forget we must go to the dress store. I need you to pick out the suit for the wedding,” Yuna said as she gave him a peck on the cheek, shot you a smile and left the room. 
Mingyu had moved on so quickly? A wedding? He waited ten years to propose to you—sort of—but with Yuna, only six months, maybe he wasn’t the problem. You were, you saw her, pretty, friendly, and she seemed to make him smile. Something you failed to do for so long. 
So, it made sense that he’d see a future with her and not you. 
Mingyu could hear your overthinking, and he wanted nothing more than to comfort you right now, but he’d do it the minute you two were in his house. Alone and in a safe space. 
“Shall we?” Mingyu asked, and you nodded, following him, not saying a word during the entire car ride back to his apartment and the walk to his apartment. 
“I’m going to take a shower and freshen up. If you want, you can use the guest room. I can grab you some clothes,” Mingyu offered, and you followed him into the guest room, not saying a word. 
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 Mingyu poked his head into the bathroom when he noticed you hadn’t emerged in a half-hour. Worried, he entered, and his heart broke when he understood what you were doing. 
“Hey, no, stop that,” Mingyu said, poking his head in at first and then entering the bathroom when he understood what was happening. 
“Just wanted to see what I was missing,” you admitted, making Mingyu frown as he helped you sit on the countertop. Mingyu grabbed a towel, wet it, and gently wiped your face with it. 
“She’s pretty.” You muttered, and Mingyu sighed, placing the towel on the counter.
“She’s got a nice body,” you continued to speak as you were apart. Mingyu stared at you in disbelief, and he hated how you were tearing yourself apart. 
“Can you shower? Or manage on your own?” Mingyu asked; he didn’t want to leave you, but he was very aware that you were naked and crying, and he didn’t want to upset you any further. 
“I guess you found the one you love, and I’m here like a moron because I thought you still loved me. I selfishly thought you still loved me,” Mingyu shook his head and snapped, and his hands found your face and pulled you in for a kiss. You gently pushed him away. 
“Don’t pity me,” you muttered Mingyu glared at you. 
“None of this is out of pity.” Mingyu moved his hands to your neck, gently tracing your skin until he reached your lower back and pulled you closer to him. 
“I’m going to ask you again; can you manage to shower alone. Or do you need me to help you?” You sighed and pushed your body against him.
“I need you,” you answered. Mingyu nodded before moving away and stripping. 
“Fuck, see, you have a nice body,” you said to Mingyu, making him glare at you as he helped you into the shower. 
“So do you, and fuck, I’ll be damned if you don’t feel the same by the time I’m done with you,” Mingyu said as he turned on the shower, and you sighed in relief as the warm water poured over you.  
Mingyu reached over for the shampoo and moved his hands into your hair. You moaned as he massaged your scalp, and for a second, you stopped thinking about how crap you felt. You allowed Mingyu to wash you, and you were ready to leave the shower when Mingyu gently pushed you against the wall. 
Mingyu moved his lips from your forehead until he reached your lips and captured them in a sweet kiss. 
One which had you swooning. 
It was so soft and yet deliberate. You moaned as you felt him deepen the kiss with his tongue. Mingyu kept kissing you until the need for air became too urgent, and he gently pulled away. 
Mingyu moved his lips to your neck, slowly sucking and gently nibbling the skin there. He left a trail of marks on your neck, all shades of purple and pink. Mingyu moved his hands to your breasts, massaging the soft skin, tugging and pinching your nipples, making you moan. 
Mingyu pulled away from your body and got down on his knees in front of you. He dove into your cunt, licking your folds, and your hands moved their way into his wet hair. 
Mingyu didn’t move a muscle, only his tongue as he glided it up and down your cunt. He moved slightly and pushed his tongue into you, making you gasp in pleasure. Mingyu groaned as he tasted your arousal, pushing his tongue in further. Mingyu moved his tongue back to your clit and flicked the now-engorged nub while pushing two fingers inside you. 
You were whimpering and gasping in pleasure as Mingyu fingered you until you came. Mingyu held your thighs in place as he continued to lick you through your orgasm. He was focused on making you cum as many times are he could with his tongue. You shuddered when Mingyu continued, never stopping. 
Mingyu moved his hands to grab your ass and pulled your ass cheeks apart, making you groan. 
Mingyu’s lips never left your clit. You could only mewl and let out sobs of pleasure as he licked you. You were gasping for air as you reached your second orgasm. Mingyu’s mouth never moved from your clit as he licked you through your orgasm. 
Mingyu moved his lips away from your cunt, and moaned when he saw your state. 
“You look so fucking good like this, swollen pussy, mouth open. You look gorgeous when you cum,” Mingyu praised, and you clenched your thighs together at his words. 
“Turn around, face the wall,” Mingyu instructed, and you weakly turned around as you trembled. 
“If anything is too much, tell me, okay?” You mumbled a yes, and Mingyu pushed his fingers into your cunt.
“Good?” You choked out a yes. The new angle with which he entered your cunt had you seeing stars. 
“Fuck, I’m going to cum.” You mumbled as your legs started to shake, Mingyu simply hummed against your wet folds, and that’s all it took for you cum again. 
“Please, fuck me,” you begged, and Mingyu slowly got up, held your body close to his, and pulled you in for another kiss; you were so immersed in the kiss that you failed to register him lifting you in his arms and aligning you with his hard cock. 
“Can I?” Mingyu asked, and you nodded at him.
 “Fucking hell, you’re so tight,” Mingyu groaned as he pushed himself into you and started to pound into your cunt. 
 “Fucking hell,” you groaned as you bit down on his shoulder as fucked you into your fourth orgasm. 
“Fuck, I won’t last long,” Mingyu choked out.
“Cum inside me,” you begged him.
Mingyu smiled at you, “gladly,” he said as he thrust into you harder, making you shake and clench around him each time. You moaned when you felt him finally still and cum inside you, his warmth coating your walls. 
Mingyu slowly placed you back down, “fucking hell,” you groaned, grabbing Mingyu’s forearm as he started fingering you hard. 
“One more baby, one more,” Mingyu coaxed as he fingered you to another orgasm. You nodded as you felt yourself cum simply based on his command Mingyu didn’t stop until you came again. This time he finally moved his fingers away from your cunt. 
You were so fucked out. All you could do was hiss slightly when Mingyu finally washed you up, wrapped you in a towel, and carried you to his bed. He towelled your hair dry, put his shirt on you, and pulled you into his arms, wrapping the blanket over you two. 
You turned in his embrace to place your head on his chest, “cuddly,” Mingyu noted with a soft smile on his lips, and you returned a smile back to him, making him bend his head down and capture your lips in a gentle kiss. 
You opened your mouth to speak, and Mingyu held a hand out to stop you. 
“Tomorrow morning, please,” Mingyu pleaded, and you nodded. 
You could do that.
Pretend for one more night.  ~~ Second, Third and Hundredth Chances  ~~
“Morning,” Mingyu greeted you as you entered the kitchen the following day. He stood by the kitchen island, poured himself a cup of coffee and another one, and pushed it across the island, nudging you to sit and face him after six months. 
Six months. That’s how long you went silent on him, blocked him out, and suddenly showed up at his door because of a journal. 
All his life, Mingyu knew you as a planner. You always had a backup plan, so for you to show up unannounced seemed so odd. Maybe you were passing by. Or you just wanted the last word, but after six months. 
Seeing you again, Mingyu felt pain, anger, and hurt, but more than anything, he still felt love. No matter how badly it ended, you were so much more than his ex-girlfriend. You were the woman he once wanted to spend the rest of his life with. It didn’t matter what would transpire; you would always be unique to him, and he could only hope he held a similar position in your heart. 
“So,” Mingyu started to say as you sipped the coffee. 
“I made you cheat. I’m so fucking sorry,” you mumbled, making Mingyu laugh. 
“Right, I didn’t cheat when I was with you, and that’s not something I’m going just to start doing because I’m with someone who isn’t you,” Mingyu said, and you stared at him, confused. 
“But Yuna?” You asked. 
“When you threw me out, I couldn’t find a place that late at night, so I ended up at a bar and cried my eyes out to Yuna. She ran the bar that night and felt sorry for me, so she took me home,” Mingyu explained, pausing to gauge your reaction. 
Mingyu felt slightly cruel for testing you like this, but with the hell, you put him through for six months, this was nothing, and he wanted to see if you still loved him or just got upset because you thought you had some right to him. 
“Yuna and her fiancé, they both, I guess, let me crash and nursed me back that night and just let me mope in their house for a solid month,” Mingyu explained, making you exhale. 
“She calls everyone babe and kisses everyone’s cheeks but only kisses her fiancé’s lips,” Mingyu elaborated, making you sigh in relief. 
“I think it was month two of moping over you, and I was, you know, useless and jobless,” Mingyu continued to speak, hurting you, knowing that you used the exact words when you broke his heart. 
“I was baking a lot, and Yuna’s husband is a famous pastry chef, and he saw me swiping through my Pinterest board and asked if I wanted to do something with my life or just cry over you,” Mingyu chuckled, recalling the memory. 
“So, for four months, I poured all my efforts into my craft, and I picked up everything quickly, and I guess I’ve been lucky, and the bakery is doing well and honestly. I thought I was finally moving on, but then, you showed up at the place I created to get away from the hurt you caused me,” Mingyu finished, his tone now serious and stern. 
“So why are you here, after all these months, and don’t tell me it’s because of a fucking journal. You wouldn’t randomly get on a flight and show up without a plan, so tell me, did you come here to reopen all the wounds I tried so hard to heal?” Mingyu asked, and you fumbled. 
“Do you know what you did to me? That night, you not only assumed that I was an unsupportive boyfriend, but you equated my ability to love you down to the fact that I was unemployed and directionless, and that is fucked up. Like beyond fucked up. So when you threw me out, I honestly believed I was worth nothing. I didn’t think I was enough. While I still want the best for you, you broke me when I needed you most, and seeing you here now, when I’m just getting my shit together, it fucks with me because a part of me wants to kick you out the way you did to me, but a part of me wants to kiss you and try again so tell me Y/N which part should I listen to?” Mingyu fumed, making you cry. 
“Why did you do it? Because what we kept breaking the ‘no sex rule’ or did something else happen? After that date, you said you fell in love with me again, and three days later, you did that. Was it because you accepted the job offer and you felt guilty? I know I’m not perfect, but I broke myself trying to be the man you deserved, and it still wasn’t enough, so I think I am at least owed something, some explanation,” Mingyu implored, his voice softer, and you couldn’t stop the tears from escaping. 
“Fucking speak, will you? You had no problem tearing me apart, so why are you quiet now?” Mingyu asked, frustrated. 
“Because you were bending over backwards, you did so much, and I did nothing. Mingyu, I got mad at you because another girl gave you the attention I didn’t. You were focused on fixing us, and I was focused on just fixing you, and yes, you’re right. The fact that I accepted the job without a second thought for you made me realise what a selfish person I was. I was ashamed, and then you took me out on that date,” you paused to take a breath before continuing. 
“I felt like a failure. I failed you because I was so willing to fix us. Still, I didn’t want to go through the pain because I was scared that at the end of it all, you’d realise that you were better off, and I couldn’t deal with that, so I thought it’d be easier if I made you hate me,” you blubbered out, and Mingyu looked at you in disbelief. 
“I ran away because it was easier. I took the easy way out because the tables had turned. You were succeeding in fixing us, doing the work, and all I could do was watch you put in so much, never expecting anything in return. I couldn’t do that to you, so I just let you go in the worst way possible,” you explained through your tears. 
“I know what you wanted to do the night of the date. I found a velvet box, and I just wanted to confirm that when I flew down here and walked in, it didn’t feel like home. It felt cold and distant, and I didn’t fit here anymore. I saw you happy, glowing, and you had started fresh, and me? I’ve been on autopilot, working, coming home and trying so fucking hard not to think about you, and that journal was an excuse because I couldn’t stay away anymore,” you sputtered out. 
“I knew you wanted to propose, and I ran because while it was everything I ever wanted, I wasn’t the woman you deserved, and I don’t know what I’m doing here because I’m certainly not the woman you deserve now. So, thank you for last night, and I’m sorry that I rehashed old wounds, and it was because I was selfish. I was selfish that night, and I’m still the same,” you cried out. 
“Selfish?” Mingyu repeated as he walked over to you, holding your face. 
“Scared, not selfish,” Mingyu said with a sad smile. 
“How do you not hate me; how can you still be so kind and loving after everything I did to you?” You asked as Mingyu wiped your tears away. 
“Because I still love you, hell you fucked with me, but when I saw you yesterday, it felt like a missing part of me was found, and while it hurt, because I got used to that missing piece, I felt alive, seeing you, and I know that the last time I gave up because I thought that’s what you wanted, but after last night. I know it’s not; it can’t be. So, tell me, did you come back to ask me about a journal entry or because you love me?” Mingyu asked, and you sighed. 
“I left everything. I was looking for something to bring me back to you because, after I left, I didn’t think I had a right to face you again, so the journal was my excuse,” you answered, and Mingyu stared at you. 
“Everything?” Mingyu asked. 
“I quit and packed my shit and came here and handed over the keys to the apartment in Japan to my landlord, and I guess I came here, hoping to come home and selfishly hoping to come back home to you,” you answered, biting your lip unable to look at Mingyu. 
“But your promotion?” Mingyu asked, and you shrugged. 
“It took me six months to realise that no promotion, no success in the world meant anything to me if you weren’t by my side, and it felt hollow. Every applause and pay cheque felt worthless because, in a room full of praises, I only ever wanted to hear your voice and come home. I always hoped that you’d be there, and I’d run into your arms and kiss you, and we would both sit and tell each other about our days, and then at night kiss each other and make love to each other, but all I got was an empty house,” you rambled making Mingyu smile tearily at you. 
“Can I ask you for a favour?” Mingyu asked, and you nodded, looking at him. 
“This time, I don’t care how difficult it is, how serious it is, how big or small the issue is, you come to me, no matter if it’s a small issue or a big issue, you’re coming to me, you don’t kick me out, and you don’t fight with me, but you fight for us,” Mingyu explained making your eyes widen. 
“After all I did to you. You’ll take me back?” You asked, and Mingyu smiled at you. 
“I was always going to come back to fight for you. I just needed time to be strong enough to do so, but yes, because if there’s anything these six months taught me, it is that I’d rather spend six months going through this pain a hundred times over, provided that each time the outcome was the same, you back in my life,” Mingyu explained making you cry even more.
“How can you love me so much?” You asked, making Mingyu laugh. 
“You stole my heart in a science class when you threw a paper at my head for being too loud in class, I was yours then, and I’m yours now, so tell me, my love, will you be mine again?” Mingyu asked, and you cried, nodding. 
“If you can forgive me?” You cried out, and Mingyu smiled sweetly at you. 
“I forgave you long ago. I was hurt, but my love for you is paramount, and it’s easier to love you than to be mad at you,” Mingyu explained, hugging you. “The perk of knowing you for so many years is that I know, despite your harsh words, you get defensive and deflective and often, what you do instead of saying the truth is act and lash out.”
“I don’t deserve a love as understanding as the one you have for me,” you admitted, and Mingyu shrugged. 
“We didn’t have the most perfect few years, but maybe that’s what we needed. Maybe Dr Kwan’s separation therapy worked because six months of radio silence was more painful than when we were fighting. After all, at least I could see you hug you, and talk to you, but not hear a word from you, not knowing anything that was nothing short of torture. I don’t want to go through that again,” Mingyu explained.
“It took me losing you to realise how much I love you,” you answered, pausing to wipe your tears, “and if you let me, Mingyu, I’ll never let you go again. I’ll love you the way I always should have, and I’ll never let you go because losing you was like I lost my ability to breathe, but here in your arms. I feel safe, loved, and at home, and I don’t want to lose my home again, and I-” Mingyu’s lips cut off your speech on yours. 
“Sorry, but I had to,” Mingyu said sheepishly, making you smile. 
“This will sound weird, but Y/N, will you go on a date with me?” Mingyu asked, making you smile as you burst into a wide smile and hugged him tightly. 
“I’d love to,” you answered. 
“Good, Tuesday night? I’ll pick you up. It’s a surprise,” Mingyu asked, and you nodded furiously. 
All those times you thought it’d work, you always were still unsure, but today, right now, you knew that you’d love him because loving him allowed you to see the world in colour and losing him took away all the colour and joy in the world and this time you didn’t want to fix it for the sake of it. 
You wanted to fix it because you loved him. 
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The Finale: What I Should Have Said
One Year Later  
“Oh, for the love of God, please do not break,” Mingyu muttered as he set up the decorations for  your anniversary date on the balcony. At this moment, he was yelling at a bouquet to stand still. 
“Mingyu? What is so urgent? I’m home?” You called out, and Mingyu pouted, glaring at the faultless flower bouquet. You were back and early, 
“In here!” Mingyu yelled out. 
You walked into the house, noticing all the lights had been dimmed. There were flower petals everywhere. You smiled. You knew Mingyu was going to do something for the anniversary. You just weren’t entirely sure what. 
“Hi,” Mingyu looked up to see you, smiling at the decorations. He walked over to you and kissed you. 
“Happy Anniversary.” He mumbled against your lips.
“Happy Anniversary to you, too,” you said. You smiled as he held your hand and pulled you to the sofa. 
“Ooh, cake!” You exclaimed, making Mingyu roll his eyes at you.  
“I’m a three-course meal, and you are salivating over a cake?” Mingyu complained, but you laughed.
“Oh, get over it,” You kept laughing, and Mingyu sliced a piece out for you. He was oddly precise and took a long time to slice the cake. 
“Dude, just give me the cake,” you muttered, and Mingyu scowled.
“Did you just dude me?” Mingyu asked dramatically. You smiled at him as you took the cake from him and immediately scooped a piece into your mouth. You felt something sharp in your mouth; you tasted blood and metal and glared at Mingyu. 
“What did you do? Accidentally leave a fork in the cake?” You glared, and Mingyu gasped in an attempt to bite back a laugh. 
“Why don’t you get cleaned up and find out?” Mingyu offered, and you looked at him strangely. However, it was your turn to gasp as you ran to the bathroom and pulled a ring from your mouth. 
You washed the ring and returned to the balcony where Mingyu was frantically pacing. 
“Mingyu?” You asked, holding out the now-washed ring in your hand. Mingyu took it from you and knelt down. 
“I waited too long last time, I waited for a sign, the right time, all that bullshit, and I’m not saying that if I had done it earlier, our problems would have never occurred, but I know waiting sure as hell didn’t help. I know I wanted to marry you when I was 19, and now, more than ten years later, I still want that, except this time, I don’t want to wait to find the right time, place or anything. I don’t need any of that. I just know that I need the right person, and I have that with you, my love,” Mingyu declared, making you tear up. 
“The last year has been a lot for us. We found each other again and worked together to fix ourselves, and you know what? I’d do it all over again if it meant fixing us, and if it meant that a year later, I’d be here proposing to you, so what do you say, Y/N? Will you be mine forever, and will you love me forever the way I know I will love you?” Mingyu asked, and you nodded, unable to say much but give him a muffled yes. 
Mingyu slipped the ring onto your finger, pulled you into his arms, and hugged you tightly. 
“When I said we’d be okay, this is what I meant, I knew it’d hurt, and it’d take fucking a lot of time and patience, but I’d do it all over again a thousand times even if this is the ending, I get each time we’re done,” Mingyu spoke, and you looked up at him smiling. 
“Me too. I’d lose you a thousand times over if it meant being back in your arms at the end,” you replied, making Mingyu smile. 
“I love you,” Mingyu said, and you smiled at him, “I love you too, so much you loved me despite all my flaws and imperfections”, you replied.
“I saw those ‘flaws’ and ‘imperfections,’ and I fell in love with every part of you. We’re both imperfect, but the way we love each other, now that’s fucking perfect!” Mingyu replied, holding you tighter. 
You knew this was your home; with him in his arms, that’s where it was no longer cold; it was warm, safe, and it was home. 
He was home.
948 notes · View notes
katsukistofu · 2 months
Note
USER KATSUKISTOFU, WRITE A HANTA SERO PIECE, AND MY LIFE IS YOURSSSS‼️🙏🫡
all eye wanted was you
contents ౨ৎ ⋆ s. hanta x fem reader. fluff. ★ sero reminds you of a few important things that your all-seeing quirk overlooks.
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“So you’re not dating him?” The girl in front of you asks again to clarify. She’s either from General Studies or the Business course you think, you honestly don’t really remember and don’t care.
You heave a sigh. “You asked that already, I said no the first time.”
At this point you’d assume the conversation would be over, but of course she opens her mouth again.
“Then you wouldn’t mind if I asked him out, right?”
Your head’s starting to throb and you force your tone to be calm. “Sorry, but do you understand the definition of not dating—“
“Uh, yeah she would.”
A familiar voice speaks, and your eyes widen as you make contact with its source, your best friend. “Sero? What are you doing here?”
“Making sure people don’t have the wrong idea of us.” He offers you a sly grin, tugging you closer by the sleeve of your uniform.
“How is this making sure people don’t have the wrong idea of us?” You hiss, placing your hands on his unfairly firm chest to stop yourself from colliding with it. With a quick glance around, it seems like the girl is gone.
“Hmm.” Sero’s smirk only deepens on his pretty lips. He did this on purpose to have you alone to himself, didn’t he? “Didn’t see you complaining when we pretended to be together to get a discount for tatts.”
“Their prices for hypothetically single people were crazy!” Your cheeks burn as his fingers trail over a spot on the fabric of your school uniform.
The skin underneath burns as he continues to trace the almost exact pattern of your tattoo, like he has it memorized from when you both showed each other right after getting them done at the parlor.
Sero playfully fidgets with the hair tie on your wrist that he let you steal from him earlier as he continues. “Or when I told the waiter at that fancy restaurant you were my girlfriend and that he couldn’t give you his number, but we’d love to take the couple’s deal instead.”
“That’s different!” You protest weakly, sounding unbelievable even to your own ears.
“What, are you going to play with my hair, like how you always do when you get stressed?” He murmurs, gently tilting your chin up to force you to meet his eyes.
You curse as you realize he’s right, somehow your finger has already found its own way to twirl one of his dark locks.
Sero’s dusky eyes darken with a hint of hurt.
“How long are you going to keep pretending?” His voice is painfully soft.
“I don’t know, I’m just…“ You take shuddering breath. “I’m scared, I guess.”
“Scared of what?” Sero’s brows furrow. “Is it because of that rando? Because you could easily take her, I’ve seen you with some strong ass villains—“
You laugh and smack his bicep. “No, dummy! I’m scared because…” Your voice hesitates, and he hugs your waist tighter.
“Use your words, sweetheart.”
Your breath catches as he uses that tone. “Okay now you’re just being unfair.”
“Hey, I’ll beg if I have to.” He grins before faking a drop down to his knees.
You squeal as his strong arms take you with him, only to come back up and steady you, and he chuckles as you smack him.
“Okay, I’ll tell you! I’m scared because I don’t want to end up pretending like we don’t know each other when we break up. You mean a lot to me, and I think,” You mumble as your finger continues to play with a button on his dress shirt. “I think that would really mess me up.”
“You mean a lot to me too.” Sero’s eyes soften. “And if we break up.”
“Nothing lasts forever, Sero.”
“Let’s prove them wrong then.” He brushes his knuckles across your cheek with such tenderness that it hurts. “Baby, why are you so worried about a future that won’t happen?”
“Because I’ve seen it happen to people.” There’s a worried frown on your face as all your past visions from your Quirk flash through your mind. “One moment everything’s going fine, then it all falls apart. Fate runs its course. I don’t want that to happen to us.”
“Forget fate, I want you.” He cups your cheeks, and you huff as you’re sandwiched between his hands. “It’s hot when you get all Doomsday on me, but I think you’re overthinking it.”
You let out a giggle, realizing he’s right. Nothing is ever set in stone, and you knew that your powers would cause you to be predisposed to anxiously anticipate things, even ones far from your current time.
He’s always reminded you to breathe, like now.
“I want you to focus on the present in that pretty little head of yours, okay?” Sero’s warm, caramel voice tickles your ear. “Can you do that for me?”
“Okay.” You whisper from where your head’s tucked under his chin, clutching his uniform in your hands. “I really want you too.”
He breathes a relieved laugh into your hair. “That’s good. So I can say it now right?”
You bury a smile into his shoulder and his lips tug upward as well when he feels it. “Go ahead.”
Sero takes a deep breath.
“Can I be your boyfriend?”
The butterflies in your stomach flutter while you stand on your tip toes, and to your delight his pupils are blown out and his cheeks are already flushed before you even lean in to give them a kiss.
“Yes. In every future, yes.”
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428 notes · View notes
amalythea · 6 months
Text
「 hold my hand, please, one last time.」
⤷ info: kazuha, albedo, aether, xiao, wanderer x gn!reader || angst, this is based on the prompt “can i hold your hand?” (or “can you hold my hand?”) || wc: 3104
⤷ warnings: death, this is v v angsty
⤷ extra: i wrote this a while ago back on soleillunne and decided that it was too good to be gone forever lmao
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kazuha.
The battlefield was strewn with chaos, and amidst the clash of swords and the cries of war, Kazuha fought with all his might, his heart burdened with the weight of the lives at stake. He had hoped that his skills with the blade and mastery of the Anemo vision would be enough to protect those he held dear, but fate had other plans.
As the battle raged on, he caught a glimpse of his lover, a skilled warrior whose presence had always brought him comfort and strength, you. Your eyes met for a fleeting moment, and in that exchange, you understood each other without uttering a word. It was a silent promise that you would find each other amidst the chaos.
But the tide turned against you, and the enemy’s forces seemed endless. Despite your best efforts, the defenders were overwhelmed, and Kazuha found himself standing back-to-back with you, defending against the onslaught.
In the midst of the chaos, an arrow found its mark. Time seemed to slow as the arrow pierced through your chest, and the world around you faded into the background. Kazuha’s heart clenched in horror as he caught you, your strength waning with each passing moment.
“Kazuha,” you gasped, blood staining your lips. “Can I hold your hand?”
Tears welled up in Kazuha’s eyes as he clutched your hand tightly, trying to offer some semblance of comfort amidst the pain. “Yes, of course,” he choked out, his voice trembling with grief.
Your hand trembled in his grasp, and Kazuha could feel your life slipping away like sand through his fingers. He could do nothing but watch helplessly as the light in your eyes began to fade. You smiled weakly at him, a bittersweet expression filled with love and regret.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice barely audible above the sounds of battle. “I wish… we had more time.”
“Don’t speak like that,” Kazuha pleaded, his voice breaking. “We’ll get through this. I won’t let you go.”
But you knew better, and as your strength waned, you continued to smile at him, your touch growing weaker by the second.
“I love you,” you murmured, your breath becoming shallow. “Always…”
Tears streamed down Kazuha’s cheeks as he held you close, trying to shield you from the harsh reality of the world around you. He wished he could turn back time, rewrite the events that led to this tragic moment, but life was unforgiving in its cruelty.
Your hand in his grew colder, and your breathing ceased. Your life force, once vibrant and strong, slipped away, leaving behind only a lifeless body in Kazuha’s arms.
Kazuha held your hand tightly, unable to let go, as if keeping that connection alive could somehow bring you back. He cried out in anguish, the weight of grief crashing down upon him like an unforgiving storm.
In that moment, amidst the chaos of the battlefield, Kazuha felt an emptiness he had never known before. He had lost not only a lover but a confidant, a soulmate with whom he had shared dreams, laughter, and countless cherished memories.
And as the battle raged on, Kazuha clung to your lifeless hand, lost in sorrow, with a heart that would forever bear the burden of their memory.
albedo.
Albedo’s heart pounded in his chest as he cradled his you in his arms. He was just about to descend from his lab on Dragonspine to meet up with you as he promised, only to see you laying on your own blood at the bottom of the mountain. He had seen you only hours prior, he’d laughed with you, but now, all that remained was a sea of sorrow, the bitter taste of loss overwhelming his senses.
He looked down at the face that he had cherished so dearly, now drained of all warmth and life. Your eyes, once filled with light and love, now stared back at him with a haunting emptiness. Albedo’s hands trembled, and tears welled up in his eyes, blurring his vision.
“Can you hold my hand?” a weak voice whispered, barely audible amidst the sounds of grief and despair that surrounded them. Albedo’s heart wrenched at the sound, and he quickly took your freezing hand into his own.
Tears streamed down Albedo’s cheeks as he clutched your hand tightly. “Yes, of course,” he choked out, his voice breaking with pain. “I’ll hold your hand for as long as you need, my love.”
He brought your intertwined hands to his lips and placed a tender kiss on the once-warm skin, now cold and lifeless. Memories of your time together flooded his mind – the laughter you shared, the dreams you nurtured, and the love you built with each passing day. Now, all that was left were shattered hopes and dreams.
“I’m so sorry,” Albedo whispered, his voice filled with regret and guilt. “I couldn’t protect you. I failed.”
You weakly shook your head, mustering a faint smile. “No, don’t blame yourself,” you managed to say. “You… you brought me so much happiness, Albedo. Please, don’t forget that.”
Albedo’s heart ached at the words, realizing that he had to find the strength to carry on without you. But it felt like an impossible task, as if the very essence of his being had been torn apart.
“I don’t know if I can,” he confessed, his voice trembling with sorrow. “You’re my everything.”
You fingers tightened around his hand as if trying to hold on just a little longer. “You’re strong, Albedo. Stronger than you know,” you said, your voice barely audible. “Promise me… you’ll keep going… for both of us.”
Albedo nodded, his tears falling freely now. “I promise,” he whispered, trying to keep his voice steady. “I’ll live for the both of us. But it won’t be the same without you.”
Your breaths became shallower, and Albedo knew that your life was slipping away. He leaned closer, trying to memorize every detail of your face, never wanting to forget.
“I love you,” you whispered, your words fading like a gentle breeze. “Always.”
“I love you too,” Albedo replied, his voice choked with emotion. “Always and forever.”
And with those final words, your grip on his hand slowly weakened until it was gone completely. Albedo held onto your hand a moment longer, pressing it against his heart as if trying to keep your love alive within him.
As grief consumed him, Albedo felt a mix of emotions. Sorrow, anger, and a deep longing to see his lover again, even if it were just for a moment. But he knew he had to continue, to honor your memory and the love you shared.
Albedo gently laid your body down, closing your eyes with tender care. He stood, feeling the weight of loss heavy on his shoulders, but also the weight of your love, and your belief in him, pushing him forward. Though his heart was shattered, he would carry your love with him, always.
And as he walked away from that place of sorrow, he knew that the pain would remain, but so would the memories of a love that would never truly fade away.
aether.
Aether’s heart pounded in his chest as he cradled his dying lover in his arms. The battlefield around them had turned into a chaotic canvas of destruction, but his attention was solely focused on the person he held dear. You were slipping away, and he could feel your life force fading like a waning star.
“Can you hold my hand?” you whispered, your voice barely audible amidst the cacophony of war. Aether’s eyes filled with tears, and he gently clasped your frail hand in his own, interlocking your fingers. His touch was warm, providing a sense of comfort amidst the pain.
“I’m here,” he choked out, his voice trembling. “I won’t let go.”
Your breathing was shallow, and your once-bright eyes were now dim, but you managed a faint smile. It was a bittersweet expression, as if you were trying to convey so much in that fleeting moment. Memories of you flooded Aether’s mind, from the first time you met under the starlit sky to the promises you made to each other.
“You have to promise me,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, “that you’ll keep going. That you’ll find happiness again.”
Aether couldn’t find the strength to respond, his throat constricted with grief. He knew that in a world without his lover, life would lose its luster, its purpose. But he understood that you were trying to ease his pain, even in your last breaths.
“No,” he whispered, tears streaming down his cheeks, “I can’t bear to live without you. Please don’t leave. Not you too.”
You smiled again, a mixture of sadness and love in your eyes. “You are strong, Aether, and you will find the strength to carry on. I will always be with you.”
Aether’s heartache intensified, and he leaned down to press his forehead against yours. He wished he could freeze time, to hold you forever, but he knew it was slipping away like grains of sand through his fingers.
“I love you,” you said, their voice fading into a whisper.
“And I love you,” Aether replied, his voice breaking.
Your grip on his hand loosened, and Aether felt the last pulse of life slip away from you. He held onto your hand a moment longer, not wanting to let go, but eventually, he lowered it gently to your chest.
In that moment, as the world around him continued to rage with chaos, Aether felt an overwhelming emptiness inside. His lover was gone, and the pain of your absence consumed him. But he knew he had to honor your last wish—to find a way to live without you, to keep your love alive in his heart.
With tears in his eyes, Aether kissed your forehead one last time before he stood, facing the uncertain future that lay ahead. Your love would forever be his guiding light, and he would cherish every memory, every moment you had shared.
And as the battles raged on and the world continued to turn, Aether vowed to carry your love with him, a beacon of hope in the darkest of times. Though your physical presence was gone, your love would endure, a reminder that even in the face of loss, the power of love could transcend beyond the boundaries of life and death.
heizou.
Heizou knelt on the cold, damp ground, cradling your cold body in his arms. He had just returned home from work, when the last thing he expected to see was see you laying on your own blood in your shared home. He held you closer, your blood staining his hands, mingling with his own tears. His heart felt as though it had been torn apart, and the pain was almost unbearable.
The world seemed to slow down as Heizou stared into the fading eyes of his beloved. Each second felt like an eternity, and yet, it was slipping away all too quickly. He could see the struggle in your gaze, the effort it took to speak those final words.
“Can I hold your hand?” you whispered, your voice getting lower with each word.
Tears streamed down Heizou’s face, and he gently clasped your trembling hand with his own, intertwining your fingers. He felt your warmth slowly waning, and he held on tighter, as if he could somehow will life back into you with the strength of his grip.
“You don’t have to ask,” Heizou choked out, his voice breaking with sorrow. “I’ll hold your hand forever.”
You managed a faint smile, your strength visibly waning. “I… I love you,” you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper.
“I love you too,” Heizou replied, his voice trembling. “You’re my everything, my reason for living.”
As the commotion outside your shared home began to get louder, the people having noticed the blood stains, Heizou’s focus remained solely on you. The world outside ceased to exist for him, and he poured all his love and energy into holding you, trying to be your anchor in this storm of pain and suffering.
In your last moments, you clung to each other tightly, as if afraid to let go. Heizou’s heart ached as he felt your life slipping away from him, the person who meant more to him than anything else in the world. He wished he could have done something, anything, to save you.
But in the end, all he could do was be there, holding your hand, providing them with comfort in their final moments. Heizou would carry the weight of this loss forever, the memories of you etched into his soul.
Even as people left you two alone and the world moved on, Heizou remained on that cold, damp ground, cradling the body of the one he had loved and lost, his heart forever scarred by the pain of that fateful day.
xiao.
Xiao knelt on the damp ground, his heart pounding with anguish as he cradled your shaking form in his arms. The battlefield around you was silent, the chaos of the battle having retreated, leaving behind only the echoes of suffering and loss.
Your once bright eyes, now dulled by death, stared up at him, and Xiao couldn’t bear to look away. Your hands, once intertwined in a promise of eternity, now lay limp and still. Tears welled up in his eyes, but he refused to let them fall.
“Can you hold my hand?” your voice was a faint whisper, barely audible amidst the devastation surrounding them.
Xiao’s heart shattered at those words, but he gently took your hand in his own, holding it with all the tenderness and love he had for you. “I will always hold your hand,” he choked out, his voice breaking with grief.
You managed a weak smile, the corners of your lips lifting slightly. “Even in death,” you murmured, your voice barely reaching Xiao’s ears.
“I’ll follow you anywhere, my love,” Xiao vowed, his fingers trembling as he clung tightly to the hand that was growing colder by the second. “Even to the ends of this cruel world.”
Your breathing grew fainter, and your grip on his hand loosened. Xiao felt his heartache intensify, knowing that he couldn’t change the cruel fate that had befallen you.
“Thank you… for loving me,” you whispered, your voice a mere thread of sound.
“Thank you for making my life meaningful,” Xiao replied, his voice choked with emotion. “I’m grateful for every moment we shared.”
Your eyes locked for a final time, and in that fleeting moment, a lifetime of love and memories passed between you. Xiao wished he could freeze time, to hold on to this moment forever, but life had other plans.
As the last breath left your lips, Xiao leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. “Rest now,” he whispered, his voice breaking with sorrow. “I’ll carry you in my heart. Until we meet again.”
He remained there, holding your lifeless hand, as tears streamed down his cheeks, mingling with the blood-stained soil beneath you. Xiao knew that a part of him had died that day with his beloved, but he also knew that your love would live on, eternal and undying, no matter the circumstances.
wanderer.
Wanderer knelt on the ground, his heart pounding in his chest as he cradled you in his arms. The world around you seemed to blur, the noise of battle fading into an eerie silence. The battle had been brutal, and he had fought with all his might to protect the one he loved, but fate had dealt them a cruel hand.
Your once vibrant eyes now glistened with pain, and a weak smile graced your lips. Blood stained your clothing, and Wanderer could feel your life slipping away.
“Hey,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I don’t have much time, do I?”
Wanderer choked back a sob, clutching your body tightly. “Don’t talk like that. You’re going to be fine. We’ll get you help.”
A soft chuckle escaped your lips, but it quickly turned into a cough. “You can’t lie to me, my love.” you managed to say, your breath shallow.
Tears finally streamed down Wanderer’s face as he pressed his forehead against yours. “I love you,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I’m sorry if I didn’t say it often. I can’t bear to lose you.”
You trembled in his grasp, and gazed into his eyes with a mixture of love and sadness. “Can I hold your hand?” you asked, your voice barely audible.
Wanderer nodded frantically, intertwining his fingers with yours. He held your hand close to his heart, hoping that somehow he could transfer strength to you.
“I’m scared,” you admitted, tears pooling in your eyes. “I don’t want to leave you.”
He brushed a strand of hair away from your face, his touch gentle and full of affection, reserved only for you. “You won’t have to. Just hold on a little longer, and we’ll get you help. We’ll face this together.”
Your grip tightened weakly on his hand. “You’re my light, my love, my everything,” you murmured. “You always have been. Promise me you’ll keep shining, even when I’m gone.”
Wanderer could feel whatever was left of his heart shatter with your words. “I promise,” he choked out. “But you can’t leave me. I can’t do this without you.”
Your breathing grew shallower, and your voice became softer. “You’re strong, my love,” you said. “You’ll find a way. Remember me, but don’t let my memory hold you back. Live your life to the fullest. Find happiness again.”
“I can’t imagine life without you,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “How am I supposed to go on?”
Your only response was a brief smile, and he squeezed your cold hand tightly. “I’ll never let go,” he vowed. “Not even when you’re gone.”
Your breathing slowed, and your eyes locked with his one last time. “I love you,” you whispered, your voice fading away.
“I love you too,” he whispered back, his voice cracking.
And then, with your hand still clasped in his, you were gone.
Wanderer held your lifeless form closer, his tears falling like rain. He knew that life would never be the same again, that a piece of his heart had been taken with you. But he also knew that he had to keep the promise he made. With a heavy heart, he stood, carrying your memory with him as he faced the world without you, knowing that he would always carry your love and light with him.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
@amalythea 2024. | do not re-upload, copy, translate, etc. my works on any form of media.
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yesimwriting · 2 years
Text
Pulling Away
A/n did i write smut for once? yeah. also timeline wise is this perfectly accurate? it’s iffy,, but this fic isn’t about the plot too much so it’s okay
Summary: You’re not the only one that’s feeling a little territorial thanks to the influx of people you’re around in Jackson. 
warnings: 18+, implied age gap, no condom, a tiny bit manipulative if you squint, brief mention of losing virginity.
----
He’s not a force of nature, no matter how hard he might pretend to be for the sake of those around him. Joel can’t actually change anything. So the shift in temperature you feel as Joel stills has to be a byproduct of what’s in your head. 
The kind of burning cold that better fits a fever runs through you and you hate yourself for it. This isn’t the first time you’ve been delusional when it comes to him. 
You’re working off of a quarter of his face against low lighting. It doesn’t make sense for you to be able to feel so much from the little of him that you can see. It’s not anger. Or at least, not just that. There’s definitely a subdued rage radiating from him, but it’s undercut by something that punches you straight in the gut. 
Maybe you’re being a little unfair, but you have a right to it at this point. You can’t follow him around blindly like some kind of puppy forever. Especially now that you’re both settled enough to be able to think of things outside of pure survival.
“Ellie’s asleep.” A flat observation that you can’t explain. Maybe it’s the need to break the silence, or maybe it’s a genuine attempt at making things feel normal. You two should still be able to talk. You never wanted that to end. “Swore she wasn’t tired, but passed out as soon as her head touched the mattress.” 
Joel lets out a small sound from the back of his throat. It’s a spike in the atmosphere. “Think I’m gonna go to bed, too.” You don’t understand your awkwardness or the urge to create distance. It’s not like Joel would hurt you, but then again, the buzz of adrenaline doesn’t seem to be coming from a place of fear. It’s an uneasy burning that worsens when you raise your eyes enough to meet his. “Night.” 
The one word is a little better and somehow so much worse. Not aggressive or trying to make things better. It’s just there. Civil. 
When he says nothing, you take it as your sign to call it a night. Tomorrow could be better. Sure, your rocky dynamic might be going through growing pains while you set boundaries that should have been established long ago, but you’ll likely survive this. You’re all staying together in the same house in Jackson for the time being and you both care too much about Ellie to separate over something small. 
Even if Joel won’t directly admit to it, the part of your relationship that feels like co-parenting is sacred. That’s part of the reason why the feelings you’ve been fighting with yourself to dismantle are so complicated. He cares about Ellie more than he wants to admit and the last thing you need right now is to tear away the little stability she’s finally been given. Not over a few awkward conversations and stiff moments. 
The weird irony that vaguely reflects the issues of the world before isn’t lost on you. If someone were to squint at the situation, you’d seem like a wife trapped in a marriage for the sake of her children. Maybe if it was happening to someone else you’d have enough energy to find it funny. 
You turn carefully, like a too loud squeak of your shoes could be what snaps the thinning thread tying you two to a hint of casualness. You don’t need to pass him to get to where you’re sleeping. The three of you had been set up in a space that allowed for each person to have their own room. It’s like that in theory, but in practice it’s more like Ellie’s room, Joel’s room, and the spare. 
A comfortable enough bedroom that you’ve maybe spent the entire night alone in twice in the weeks you’ve been here. You can’t even pretend that you keep the few things you own in there either. Joel’s an even lighter traveler than you, so slowly your items made their way into the drawers in his room. Now, your room is basically just where you go to change into and out of sleepwear.
You’ll get used to it, used to the draft that originally led to you giving up on rocky sleep the first night you ended up sleeping next to Joel. Your dreams kept you up even more than the cold, but when Joel’s drowsy voice called out to you in the dark, asking why you were awake, you blamed the night’s chill. That’s how it first happened. 
It was a mistake you should have never let turn into habit. You’re correcting it now. Setting boundaries to prevent heartbreak. It’s only a matter of time considering the way the women here look at him.
“Since when do you sleep in there?”
His voice is so gruff it instinctually freezes you. Any sarcastic comment at the back of your throat vanishes immediately. The both of you are fully aware of how you end up each night, but it’s a boundary in itself not to mention it. You’re not sure if it’s more him or you, but what happens at night and early in the morning is never mentioned.
It’s a dip into another reality. A space where Joel’s a little lighter, almost more open. Sometimes he’ll drag your arm with him when he moves onto his side, a silent way of asking you to stay close. On the best nights, he’ll joke about it, letting your limbs meld together under a blanket and swear he’s just trying to keep you warm out of the kindness of his heart. 
His humor is the worst. The kind that some might justify as a result of years of it being at a stalemate for years considering the tragic state of the world, but you know better. They’re the kind of jokes that take a second to settle because of his general exterior, but are meant to be so dumb they force out a smile. In another life, the little comments are dad jokes.
The peace bleeds into the mornings now, he’ll keep the closeness and remind you that you don’t have to get up immediately by mumbling something about Ellie still being asleep. Like she’s the only thing significant enough to get you two to return to reality. 
You’re convinced that these moments exist because neither of you mention them. He’s crossing a line you didn’t realize meant so much to you and he’s being dramatic it, too. It’s not the rarest thing for you to ‘attempt’ to sleep in your own bed. Sure, you’re more likely to lay in that room for a few hours on nights where Ellie stays up a little later, but this isn’t the strangest thing you’ve done. 
He’s ripping any chance of returning to that separate world away from you. It stings more than it should. “Thought I’d give it a try,” you voice is too low, too defensive, “It’s not a big deal.” 
The defense sounds so weak in your own ears, you don’t even want to imagine what he took from it. “Bullshit.”
His voice comes out in such a low huff you feel it more than hear it. If the sound had felt any less dangerous, you would have pretended to mistake it for another wordless grunt. Your lips part slowly as your mind struggles to create any kind of logical response. 
Pretending is clearly getting you nowhere. The only reason you ever pretended it would was pure delusion. Joel has always been able to see through you, through any shift in mood. Even when your lies are better, his ability to sense them is uncanny. 
He turns with no warning. Joel crosses the space between you before you can even fully register his steps. Your body tenses as heat rushes to your face in result of an oddly charged parody of fight or flight. You almost step back, one heel shifting back, but then you meet his gaze and the determined glint behind his eye is enough to melt you into place. 
There’s something else there, too. A focus that pins you into place even further. Holds you there better than the barrel of a pistol could. 
The absurdity of the warmth rooted in your chest should be enough to make the feeling go away. It doesn’t, so you force your lips to part again. You need to say something. Anything. “Joel?” Not that. Not just his name in a voice that feels violently small. 
“You’re pullin’ away.” 
The accusation in his voice leaves no room for argument. You try anyways, “No.” The rest of your thoughts can’t come out while you’re looking at him at the same time. There’s shame in dropping your gaze to focus on your shoes and the little space between you. “It’s not like that.” 
Joel lets out a low sound. The creak of the floor as he steps forward again snaps you out of your trance. You step back in a desperate attempt to keep the space between the two of you equal. Your back hits the wall before you can come close to achieving your goal. It’s a knee jerk reaction that leaves your face feeling even warmer than before. A part of you expects Joel to laugh at the sound or at least comment on it. He doesn’t. He continues forward until his mouth is so close to your ear the warmth of his breath lingers when he exhales. 
He takes a second there, relishing in your stillness. “Don’t lie to me.” Joel pulls away just enough to look you in the eye. “You don’t want to talk to me, you’re talkin’ about leavin’.” The southern drawl of his voice is increasing with his frustration. It’s distracting in a way that feels too convenient. Like he’s doing this on purpose. 
You swallow once. “You found your brother. I have a sister out there, I’d--I think now that things are more settled with Ellie it wouldn’t be the worst thing for me to look for her.” 
“And you don’t want us goin’ with you, but you’re more than willing to let the guy that’s always lookin’ at you--” 
“Oh my god, is that what this is about?” You are insane. Of course his issue is who mentioned it. John knows travel, leaves Jackson and comes back in one piece when he needs to. He wouldn’t be the worst person to have with you if you did want to start a rudimentary search for your sister. “I didn’t make any plans with John, it just came up.” 
“You don’t want us goin’ with you.” 
Your throat feels dry. The thought of it makes you feel cold. You haven’t seen your sister in a few years and so much has changed. You’re no longer in the QZ and your sister has no way of knowing that. She can’t reach out if there’s trouble or good news and she has no reason to assume that you’re safe. You know where she lives, and if she’s not there, you know a few of her usual spots. She doesn’t typically stray too far from her bubble. It wouldn’t be a long trip, just long enough. 
Long enough to give you some space. Long enough to remember what it’s like to not be around Joel all the time. Long enough to feel less about him. 
And you’d come back. You wouldn’t just walk out of his life and Ellie’s forever. The little bit of space you’re trying to get would make it easier for you to stick around in the long run because it’s the only way you can think to get rid of the feelings that are trying to ruin everything. 
“We haven’t been here that long and Ellie’s finally starting to feel settled. I don’t want to drag her out of that yet and make her feel like her entire life is just going to be her being dragged around the country.” 
Your words are a jumble, rushed together in a way that makes the honesty of them less effective. It’s a good point. Ellie just called her room hers the other day and even asked about moving the bed against a different wall.
Joel lets out a low breath, eyes hardening. “You’re right. She’s settlin’ and she needs you.” He knows he’s hit his mark when you don’t respond. “How do you think she’s gonna take the news that you’re leaving?” 
“Leaving to visit my sister.” You struggle to swallow. “Temporarily. It’ll take less than two weeks.” 
His lips pull into a frown as his eyebrows together. Moody and brooding. The look you’ve openly referred to as his old man scowl. “With John.” 
Ugh. This again. Why does it matter? Yes, John will be there, but it’s not like it’s just you and John. Your sister isn’t that far and she has access to supplies that aren’t common, she has an understanding with people that have easy access to medical supplies. 
But even if it was just you and John, it doesn’t matter. There are a lot of areas in which you factor in Joel’s opinion, but this is definitely not one of them. You two aren’t together and with the way he does nothing to show any discontent when the girls here start to look at him, he definitely doesn’t need you keeping his bed warm at night. 
“If I go, he wouldn’t be the only one there.” The fact that you’re trying to justify John’s presence leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. You’re a grown woman, free to associate with whoever you want. You might jokingly call him your old man from time to time, but he has no right. “And if even if he was, what does it matter?” 
His jaw locks and the downwards tilt of his chin erases the little bit of confidence you’ve managed to build. “You’ve seen the way that boy looks at you.”
You have to bite your tongue to avoid from blurting out that he’s also seen the way majority of the women you see on a daily basis look at him. Joel’s also exaggerating. John does not have any feelings for you, and if he did, it wouldn’t matter. It’s not like you see John as anything more than a friend. But even if you did--it is not his business. At all. 
“He doesn’t.” There’s little point in saying that, Joel’s not one to have his mind so easily swayed and he’s been wary of John since the beginning. Sometimes it even feels like the more you insist that he’s a good friend, the more Joel seems to dislike him. “And if he did, it doesn’t matter.” 
Your words feel like a retreat they shouldn’t need to be. Small, the meaning of the sentence compacted and straining against the limited syllables. A part of you expects Joel to understand what you do mean. That it doesn’t matter because it takes two interested parties to form any kind of relationship. That your mind isn’t even there in terms of feeling safe...that the only person who has ever made you feel safe enough to imagine anything beyond friendship is right in front of you. 
For the first time, Joel doesn’t pick up on the relevance of what isn’t said. You can feel his lack of understanding in the way he moves, placing one hand on the wall, near your head. You blink, trying in vain to explain the motion, explain his proximity. He’s caging you in. 
The heat of his body is practically inescapable, amplified by the way he smells. Joel showered a little earlier, his natural scent combining pleasantly with that of plain soap. After so many nights next to him, you would think you would have developed a tolerance. You haven’t. And even if you did, you doubt it’d matter...this is different. Dizzying. 
“Doesn’t matter?” 
He’s somehow even closer and somehow not touching you. The realization that that’s the worst part of this leaves your stomach fluttering. You need the feeling gone, so you force out the first words that come to mind, “It matters as much as all the girls that look at you like that.” 
It feels more bitter than it comes out, leaving a metallic taste on your tongue. You need out. You need space. You need sleep. Joel’s silence feels like opportunity, so as subtly as you can you try to shift away from the wall. Your back is off the wall for less than a second before you’re pushed back against it. 
Your body hits the wall before you can realize that Joel’s hand is on your hip. There’s too much surprise for that fact to settle, so you look up at him almost bewildered. You expect him to let go or at least look somewhat apologetic. He does the opposite, moving the hand on the wall under your jaw and closing the distance between you in a motion so quick you can barely register it. 
His mouth is on yours before your mind can catch up. It makes no difference to him. He’s rabid in his patience, taking what he wants without forcing your lips to part. His hand squeezes your hip and all at once it connects. You gasp and Joel pins you to the wall even more securely, deepening the kiss with an expert’s ease. 
It lasts until you can’t breathe and ends with his teeth grazing against your bottom lip as he pulls away. “All of this,” the words are exhaled lowly, “’Cause you’re jealous.” 
The kiss left you so light headed your first instinct is to just agree. To not think and do or say whatever you need to in order to get him that close again. But his tone is too sure, too teasing, and the implication isn’t something he can just get away with. “Jealous?” His smugness is hard to take with him holding you against the wall like this. It’s too vulnerable, like this might be some kind of game to him. It makes you feel transparent. Hollow. “Fuck whoever you want, I don’t care.” 
It’s like you’ve said nothing until Joel has the audacity to squeeze your hip. “Whoever I want?” His hand shifts up your hip, your shirt moving with him. “Hm.” His hum settles beneath your skin, effectively silencing you as his eyes take their time raking over your face and down your body. “Those were some big words from you.” 
Heat rushes to your face. It’s ridiculous--you curse more than that on a regular basis. He’s playing into context, too aware of what he’s doing. The urge to push burns twice as hard as buzzing in your chest. “They’re true. We’re not--we’re not anything, so if I want to go with--” 
“I’m not losin’ you.” There’s a desperation in there that comes out so hard it circles back to vulnerable. “You wanna go see your sister, we go see your sister. That’s how we got through everything else.” The hand on your hip moves down, his fingers dipping beneath the elastic waistband of your shorts. You hate yourself a little for the way your breath audibly catches. “Understand?” 
His hand lowers even further, long fingers pressing against the fabric of your underwear. You’re not breathing right and you can’t bring yourself to care. The only thing you can think of is closer. “Y-yes.” 
“’Yes’ what?” No sympathy in his voice or anything that would give away that he has a hand shoed down your pants. 
His touch picks up pace, rubbing against you until a whimper escapes your lips. “Yes, sir.”
Joel moves his hand away with no warning. The whine that escapes your lips doesn’t feel like your own. He’s barely touched you and you’re already like this. “Barely touched you and you’re already listening.” He hooks two fingers in between the band of your underwear. “Should’ve done this awhile again, then.” 
You’re burning all over, the only thing you can manage is a quick, “Shut up.” It lacks any bite. 
He pulls at the band of our underwear, letting it snap back into place. If you didn’t know any better, you’d consider the flash of something softer across his face as amusement. “If you want me to stop, you’ve gotta tell me.” 
Your nod feels desperate. Your entire body feels desperate. For the way he kissed you, the way he touched you. “I-I’ll tell you.” He’s still not moving, not doing anything. It’s some sort of punishment. It has to be. “Joel...” 
“You going to say ‘please’?” 
You have half a mind to tell him to fuck off, but then his fingers hook around your underwear again. A promise. “Please, Joel.” This is all unfamiliar but you trust Joel to get what you want, what you need. “Need you.” 
With no warning, he yanks down your shorts and underwear. They fall down your legs and you blindly kick them to the side. “Need me?” He tilts his head down, pressing an open mouthed kiss against your cheek, then two to your jaw. “Need me where, sweetheart?” 
God. Anywhere. Everywhere. Your desperation reminds you of how incredibly unfair it is that you’re already down to just our t-shirt and Joel’s still fully dressed. You move your hand slowly, carefully tugging at whatever piece of clothing on him you can reach. 
He’s unimpressed. “C’mon, use your big girl words.” His hand is in between your thighs, his fingers teasing at your entrance in a way that makes it impossible to focus on anything else. “You were usin’ them just fine a second ago.” 
“Joel,” he kisses your jaw again, forcing away all train of thought. It has to be intentional. “Joel,” again, too soft. 
“I know,” he exhales the words against your neck, “I know, sweetheart. Need me to take care of you.” Joel doesn’t wait for a reaction, just pushes his fingers fully into you. You gasp too loudly, Joel moves his free hand over your mouth. “Be a good girl and be quiet. Can’t wake up Ellie.” 
Shit. How did you not think of that? “You’ll be good and quiet for me? Let me stretch you out a bit first?” There’s a knot in your stomach that’s slowly taking over all of your senses. As long as Joel keeps working at it, you could promise him anything. You nod against the palm of his hand. 
You bite your tongue to keep from whimpering too loudly. “Need you to relax,” he presses into you even more firmly, “Get you ready for me.” 
He slowly eases his hand off of your face. “Joel, please.” You’re not even sure what you’re asking for, you just know you need more. You want him to consume you entirely. Feel him until he’s all there is.
You hear the sound of a belt buckle and his jeans shifting. Instinctually, you move a hand towards him, wanting to help, wanting to feel him. “There’ll be time for that, right now it’s about you.” You’re about to argue when he skillfully adds another finger. Fuck. “You’re tight,” he breathes, “No one’s ever touched you here?” 
His fingers curl inside of you and you have to burry your face into the fabric of his shirt to keep from crying out. “Only you.” 
“Look who’s found her manners.” He’s picking up the pace and smoothing down your hair as you squirm against him. “Should’ve done this sooner.” Just as the coil in your lower stomach tightens, Joel takes his hand back. 
You push yourself off of him, staring at him with an expression you know he’ll consider pouting. “Why’d you--” 
“Because I want you to remember this.” He pushes you back to the wall, pressing his body against you. The head of his cock brushes against your entrance. With no warning, he pushes into you. Your sharp gasp overlaps with Joel’s low groan. “Y’need a man to fuck the attitude out of you.” He moves slowly, the friction unbelievably overwhelming and somehow not enough. “That boy wouldn’t know what to do with you.” 
Joel presses you further into the wall, sinking into you as deep as possible before pulling out just to sink back in. His pace is even until his breathing picks up. You’re a mess against him, hiding your face in his chest when he starts fucking you with full force.
“You’re squeezing me so good.” Joel practically pants the words into your skin. “Fuck, ‘m going to--you gonna finish with me, sweetheart?” 
Your mind is mush, you can barely nod against him as his thrusts start to lose their focus. You’re pushed over the edge as Joel’s teeth graze against your neck. He pulls at your orgasm, dragging it along until your legs are jelly and he’s pulling out in order to not finish inside you. 
The two of you stay holding onto each other for what feels like a long time and not enough. “You’re not goin’ anywhere, okay?”
You pull your head off of him enough to look him in the eye. “Not without you.” 
He smiles, lines that you can imagine kissing forever etching themselves into his skin. “That’s my girl.” Joel runs a hand up and down your back fondly. “Let’s go to bed,” he presses a kiss against your jaw, “Give me the space to properly appreciate you.”
The thought makes your body burn all over again. “You sure you aren’t tired out, old man?” 
Joel huffs out what’s almost a laugh, “We’ll see who’s tiring who out, sweetheart.” 
4K notes · View notes
yok00k · 9 months
Text
LOVE.
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pairing: pinkcoquette/Sanriolover!oc x bf!jk
genre: fluff, smut
“Sippin' bubbly, feelin' lovely”
Synopsis: you wanted to try the “pink coquette core” on your boyfriend and your poor sleepy dog
warnings: brief SMUT at the end, oc is desperate, clingy, and be waking everyone up @ midnight in the name of coquette core💀, too much love in the air, mention of jk only in his sweatpants, dirty thoughts, (pink bow should have its own warning too imo)
Author’s note: this is my very first work/drabble ^o^ I was mainly inspired by these outta pocket ‘coquette core’ videos on tiktok and it made me think about my man jungkook and my son bam (this is unedited & will probably stay that way, I just write for my own sanity)
⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆
Pleaseeee my kookie? I promise it will be quick” I desperately pleaded to him as I straddled him on the couch. I showered his entire head with plenty of my sweet kisses, trying to convince him to do a foolish video that’s quite trending today. The only response I got are his arms snaking around my lower waist while he continues to watch his tv show, Bloodhound.
Early this morning, I was scrolling on my ‘for you’ page and saw a bunch of pretty and pleasing coquette videos. Essentially, pink bows were wrapped around the daintiest [and most random] stuffs including ramen cup noodles, lip oil, or even a rose toy. Do I get the pattern of the coquette trend? Absolutely not. But one certain thing I’m sure of is that I will wrap a tiny baby pink bow around my boyfriend. And it will happen no matter what it takes.
Since offering him with plenty of affection doesn’t seem to work, I had to go down with my last technique. “I will grant you three wishes if you let me do it” I whispered softly to his ear. Immediately, he grabbed the remote to pause the show that he was so focused on .
“Anything?” Jungkook eagerly asked, two round, shining dark eyes gaze upon me as they search for assurance in my words. “Anything” I guarantee, kissing his pretty nose before getting off his lap.
―୨୧⋆ ˚
“koo stay still” I complained while giggling at the sight of him attempting to awkwardly stand still with a flimsy ribbon flimsy bow that looped around his torso and veiny arms.
‘How cute’ I thought.
While trying to capture videos and a couple of photos of him, I can’t help but to flash a grin. Small things like this really make my heart so full. Spending a solid quality time with him, even if it’s doing something nonsense is a memory I will forever value.
“So cute” I mumbled, staring at my phone as I went through the images I took seconds ago.
After a minute or two, Jungkook, who’s still standing, took a loud, deep breath.
“baby are we done yet?” he whined. “Oh my bad kookie” I rushed to turn off my phone to finally give my undivided attention to him. The ribbon tied around him got unfasten by me. Finally, he can breathe freely again.
―୨୧⋆ ˚
It was midnight when out of nowhere, another light bulb popped out of my brain on what (or who) to use the notorious pink decoration for. And in this case, I won’t be able to sleep unless I accomplish the sudden idea. Somehow, I managed to escape from Jungkook’s arms securely holding onto my waist. I quickly grab two pink short strips and head to the living room. The entire apartment was filled by silence and darkness therefore I turned the mini lampshade in the corner, causing Bam to wake up and immediately have his guards up. When he recognized that it was just me, he put his head down on the floor while holding a gaze on me as if he’s questioning ‘why is she bothering me at this hour?’
“I’m sorry for waking you up this hour bammie, mama just needs to do something real quick ok?” I gently explained to the Doberman. It didn’t take me so much time to delicately tie a not-so-tight bow around his both ears. What took time was taking good pictures of him for the reasons that he’s moving too much and doesn't know what on earth is going on.
“Look at mami bam” I whispered, snapping my fingers to get his attention to look in the camera. The poor dog keeps moving his head, figuring out the thing around his ears are for.
“Baby what are you doing?” an abrupt voice spoke behind me.
Shit. Turning my body around, I got a glance at the half lidded eyes filled with pure curiosity. As I examined his tall and muscular physique, I also didn’t fail to notice that he was only wearing a pair of baggy sweatpants. And when I say only, I meant only so don’t ask me for any color of something.
The things that my mind urges me to do.
―୨୧⋆ ˚
I dropped my knees in front of him, left hand wrapped in his upper leg while the other hand softly palmed his growing tent. I looked into his eyes as I gave his clothed cock few pecks, teasing him. Instantly he gave me a nod before throwing his head back, gesturing to me to keep on going.
I wasted no time and pulled down his sweatpants till an angry, hard cock that slapped his bottom abdomen was released from being suffocated. It’s too pretty, so desperate to be touched. Using my small grip, I wrapped my hand around his shaft, directing it right to my drooling mouth. I gifted his pink mushroom tip kitty licks, then proceeded to gradually bob my head up and down greedily to his cock as if he’s my last meal.
“mmh.. so good baby” jungkook shamelessly groans, the cold room is filled with nothing but dirty, loud moans. The noises motivated me to go on and also to do the best I can to make him feel good.
―୨୧⋆ ˚
“___, you still with me?” he asked again, bringing me out in reality from the filthy thoughts that've been going around the back of my head.
“yeah.. I was just trying the ribbon on Bam” I responded breathlessly as my gaze returned to his beautiful eyes. I just smiled, as if I wasn’t imagining an obscene scene with him a few seconds ago. “let’s go to sleep” I announced as I got up from the ground.
and before we sleep, I made sure to turn my little cute scenario into reality.
1K notes · View notes
papercorgiworld · 7 months
Text
I don't want you to be my girlfriend
Blaise, Mattheo, Enzo, Tom, Theodore and Draco
There’s a big misunderstanding concerning your future together. 
Warning: no warning, just a very fluffy fluff thingy
This was brought to you thanks to this request, but I must apologize I changed some details, but I guess the essential plot is stil there. If you spot an error that hurts your brain, let me know and save another reader. And as per usual, my darling readers happy readings! I love you all, big time!
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“When we graduate things are going to change. I have big plans.” You hear your boyfriend’s voice and feel yourself get all giddy, convinced that you are part of these big plans, but suddenly you stop in your tracks. “I mean (y/n) isn’t going to be my girlfriend forever.” Next, there's silence. “Are you sure?” You hear Pansy ask and with a pounding heart you listen to your boyfriend’s answer. “Yeah. Never been so sure of anything in my life. She won’t be my girlfriend for long anymore. Things change.” 
Without making a single sound you turn down the stairs of the astronomy tower. Tears streaming down your face. You were so in love with him. All the two of you did lately was talk about your future together. When did he stop loving me? Did he ever love me at all?
The next morning you looked like crap. You looked like someone who had been crying all night, which is exactly what had happened. So you skipped breakfast and just went to class where you spent your time staring in front of you and avoiding your boyfriend’s gaze at all costs. He watched you from a few seats away. When he grew inpatient waiting for you to look at him he enchanted a little note and sent it to you, but to his horror you just looked at the folded paper laying on your desk without opening it, before returning to look at the professor. 
He truly doesn’t know how you managed to, but after class you just disappeared. He had immediately gotten up and walked towards you and yet you had somehow snuck past him through the other students. He picked up the unopened note he had sent you and felt his heart ache. First you didn’t show up at the astronomy tower last night, then you skipped breakfast and now you were obviously avoiding him. What did I do? I hate it when I don’t know what I did? Bad joke? Forgot about a date? Salazar, what if I did something so bad that she’s breaking up with me? 
He had searched every nook and cranny of the castle to find you, which was quite a lot of work, but to no avail. I don’t even know where she’s hiding? Have we somehow grown apart without me even noticing? I’m such a shit boyfriend, I’m gonna lose the love of my life.
Defeated, he walked back to the slytherin common room when one last possible hiding spot came to mind. How did I not check there earlier?
Blaise
There you sat curled up doodling in your journal, back resting against the whomping willow. “Really not the safest spot to be. The tree gets mad from time to time.” He startles you and for a moment you stare at him with wide eyes, before relaxing. As soon as you process that it’s Blaise you roll your eyes. “Oh, really? After seven years at this school I really had no clue.” Your sarcasm is almost like venom and makes Blaise’s smile disappear. In silence he joins you, sitting too close to your liking so you move an inch away and he lets his head fall back in annoyance with your childish behavior. “I have no idea what I did, but I’m sorry, I always am when I hurt you.” His voice is soft and his hand reaches for yours, keeping you from scribbling in your notebook. 
You shake your head in disbelief. How could he be sorry, when he was planning on breaking up with you. You feel tears welling up and grit your teeth in an attempt to hold them back. “When we talked about our garden together, which plants and trees we would prefer and that there needed to be a little bench… I thought you meant it. I thought you really wanted that with me.” At your words he moves a bit away from the tree to face you properly. “I do. I do want all of those things. You know that. We were just talking about our future together yesterday morning. What makes you think I wouldn’t want that with you?”
Your eyes are angry. How dare he lie like this. “I heard you last night at the astronomy tower. You want to break up with me. You had big plans and I wasn’t going to be your girlfriend anymore.” Blaise stares for a moment, before chuckling and looking away. “Unbelievable, you seriously had me worried for a moment.” All your anger subsides and confusion takes over, eyebrows knitting together. “You won’t be my girlfriend forever, (y/n), because I have other plans for you.” Blaise explains, but you still don’t catch on to what he’s hinting at. “Darling, I bought a ring.” Your eyes widen and your heart feels like it’s going to explode. “That’s what I was talking about. I showed it to everyone last night.” With shaky hands you put your notebook aside and move a little closer to your boyfriend. “An engagement ring?” Blaise nods and smiles as he adores your utterly confused face. “After we graduate, on a random date, when you don’t see it coming I’m gonna pop the question.”
Even though you were sitting in front of him he’s still surprised when you suddenly wrap your arms around his neck. “Spoiler alert, I'm gonna say yes.” You whisper all giddy and he responds by hugging you tighter than ever. Gods, I hope so, because I really love you.
Mattheo
Mattheo sighs, relieved that he’s finally found you. Sitting against the whomping willow with your knees pressed against your chest and headphones on, probably listening to the same four sad songs on repeat. He watches you from afar for a moment as he worries about what’s gotten you so upset and worse why you haven’t come to find him for consolidation yet. Even when you were angry with him you came to him to figure it out. You rarely closed yourself off for so long as you had done today and it frightened Mattheo. 
Quietly he walks over to you and as soon as you spot him you turn to look away from him, making Mattheo almost reach for his chest. He decides to lean against the tree next to you, giving you some space as you’re still sitting curled up on the ground. The silence between you two is excruciating. Soundless tears run down your cheeks as you realize that this might be the last moment between you two. As painful as the silence is, Mattheo wants to give you time to start talking, it’s only when he hears you sob that he loses his patience and immediately gets down on his knees next to you. He takes off your headphones and looks at you with soft eyes. “I beg you, please, talk to me.” His fingers brush your cheeks and you savor the moment of his touch, before speaking up.
“It’s cruel Matt, making someone believe in a future together, while you’re planning a break up. I mean who does that. Yesterday morning we were arguing about marriage or kids first and in the evening you’re telling everyone that you don’t want me to be your girlfriend.” A pathetic sob escapes you and Mattheo opens his mouth, but you cut in before he can say anything. “I still love you, you know. I still want that future with you. Did I scare you away or something?” Mattheo’s heart squeezes at your painful sobs. Scare me away? How can you think of something like that? “No, no, you could never scare me away.” Mattheo wants to hold you, but you softly push his hand away. “Then tell me, what did I do wrong? Why are we breaking up?” Mattheo stares at you in disbelief, not following at all. “We aren’t. We’re never-” 
“I heard you, Matt, last night at the astronomy tower. I heard you say that I wasn’t going to be your girlfriend for long.” Something changes in the way Mattheo looks at you, but you can’t quite capture it, he looks almost disappointed. “Wow. Definitely not how I planned it, but okay.” Mattheo says dryly, but also amused. There’s this sweet mischievous glimmer in his eyes that calms you, but also has you frowning. He searches in his pocket, obviously being enchanted, it takes him a while to find what he’s looking for and you stare at him in confusion as he makes a funny face. “Matt-” He shushes you and you study him carefully as he moves from sitting on both knees to resting on one knee, before pulling out a tiny box. 
“If it’s up to me, (y/n), you will no longer be my girlfriend, because I want you to marry me.” You quickly shake your head and sit up a bit straighter to check if you’re really seeing what you’re seeing. Slowly, his free hand reaches to open the flannel ring box. “So (y/n) (y/l/n), will you marry me?” Your mouth opens as you stare at the ring, before looking at Mattheo whose smile is filled with love. You nod, ignoring the elegant and shiny ring, you lunge towards him and he wraps his arms around you. He quickly closes the box to keep the ring safe, before kissing you passionately. When you break apart, your foreheads rest against each other. “The answer’s yes by the way.” You whisper with flustered eyes. Mattheo licks his lip, smirking at the beautiful fiance in his arms. “I assumed that much.” He said, eyes shining with happiness. “But, dear future wife, don’t you ever assume silly things again, like maybe me dumping you. Never going to happen, understand?” Sheepishly you chew your lip, embarrassed with your own dramatics. When you nod, his smile grows brighter and leans in for another passionate kiss. 
Enzo
As soon as Lorenzo spotted you, he came running towards the whomping willow, though carefully watching the tree so as not to get attacked by it. You were just laying on the ground staring up at the sky and the tree, but you knew Enzo was coming your way. You had been together for so long you could hear it was him just by his footsteps. You took a deep breath, trying to get rid of the weight on your chest, knowing that your relationship would all be over soon. With a happy smile Enzo’s face comes into your view as he stands next to you looking down at you. “Found you.” He quips rather proud of himself and you snort. Joking before breaking up that’s just rude. Did our relationship really mean nothing?
When Lorenzo notices your displeasure with his presence he kneels down next to you. “Everything alright?” He asks with a soft, worried voice as he scans your face for any hints. You chew your lip for a moment before sitting up, eyes wandering around, avoiding Enzo. “I really looked forward to it.” Enzo frowns and sits down next to you, his arm brushing yours. Before he can ask for an explanation, you continue. “Cooking together every evening. Going to bed together. Waking up and arguing in the bathroom, but making up at the breakfast table. You were going to make that boring adult everyday routine fun, you would make everyday worth it.” Lorenzo drops his head, looking down. She’s breaking up with. He heard you struggle to keep yourself from sobbing and looked back up.
He wasn’t just gonna let you break up with him. He grabbed both of your hands and pulled you towards him, now your teary eyes were forced to meet his. “Darling, whatever dumb thing I did, I love you too much to have done it on purpose, so please just talk to me.” You narrow your eyes at him, confused by what he was saying. You sniffle and he wraps an arm around your head pulling towards him, forcing you to rest on his shoulder for a moment. “Please, don’t break up with me.” Your boyfriend whispers, before placing a soft kiss on your temple. You pull away and look at him. “I don’t want to break up with you, you’re the one that’s done with our relationship.” Enzo’s eyes widen and his mouth drops a bit. “Wha- why? Why would you say something so ridiculous!” He sounds almost angry with you for suggesting something so outrageous. 
You frown and bite back. “Don’t play dumb, Berkshire! I heard you last night at the astronomy tower talking to all your friends and Pansy, who’s my friend by the way, about how I wasn’t going to be your girlfriend for long anymore. Hah!” You point at him, thinking you’ve cornered him, figured out all his lies, but he doesn’t look impressed at all. “Oh right, right… but tell me, darling, if I’m planning on breaking up with you then… uhm, why did I spend a ridiculous amount of money on an engagement ring?” With one swift move he presents you a small velvet ring box and judges you, before quickly tucking it back into his pocket. Your mouth just hangs agape as you watch him put the ring box away. “Miss I-have-it-all-figured-out, do you have any other crazy assumptions? Maybe you think I bought that for one of my other girlfriends-” You give him a soft push and he smiles at your flustered face.
“Break up with you? Have you lost it? Gods, I’m marrying an idiot.” Lorenzo laughs and pulls you onto his lap. You’re still trying to wrap your head around the fact that Enzo bought an engagement ring. “Marrying an idiot? Enz, I haven’t said yes.” You say, attempting to sound composed and he grins at you. “That’s because you haven’t seen the ring, yet.” You snake an arm around his neck. “So show me.” You brush your nose against his and he smirks, happy that you're eager to see the ring and say yes. Enzo steals a tender kiss from you before moving his lips to your ear. “I don’t think so.” You look at him with curious eyes and he explains himself. “I have this whole thing planned and it’s already bad enough that you know I’m going to propose. I don’t need you knowing about anything else I have in store for you.” Merlin, I love him. Desperately your lips crash into his, passionately kissing your future husband as he holds you tight.
Tom
He studies you from afar as you focus on your journal. He adores your elegant figure, small against the great whomping willow. He approaches you with a featherlight step and you don’t notice him until he speaks up with a serious tone. “You had me worried. Disappearing for a whole day.” Your heart jumps as his sudden presence startles you and you quickly close your journal. When you look up he notices your exhausted eyes and crouches down to your level. His fingers brushing your jawline before grabbing a hold of your chin as you try to turn away from him. With a firm grip he forces you to meet his eyes. “Have you been crying, dear?” Your eyes go dead at his question. “Don’t pretend to care. I know you’re breaking up with me.”
Your voice is cold and your words catch him off guard, dropping his hand and studying your face. “When we talked about traveling the world, I thought it was going to be you and me. Searching for the boundaries of magic, you and me… always.” His face goes cold as tears visually well up in your eyes. “I can’t believe you’re breaking up with me. I don’t understand. I thought we were happy.” Now you can no longer hold your tears back, instantly your hands cover your face and Tom grits his teeth at the sound of your sobbing. “Enough.” He says sternly, grabbing your hands and making you look at him. “I don’t know what’s gotten into your silly little head, but I’m not breaking up with you, not now, not ever!” 
He can spot a glimmer of hope in your eyes at his words and he sighs. “Quite to the contrary, actually. I’m planning on spending the rest of my life with you and I want to make it official.” You swallow and shake your head a little as you remember last night's words. “But- but I heard you talk yesterday evening… you said I wasn’t going to be your girlfriend forever.” Tom’s lips form a line and he cups your face, thumbs brushing over the stains of your tears. “You should know better than to eavesdrop. You missed out on a bit of context.” Your eyebrows knit together. “You’re not breaking up with me?” With a soft smile he shakes no. “I missed out on the context?” Tom nods and you feel yourself relax. “Okay.” You whisper and you lean towards Tom so he can embrace you. With your head pressed against his chest you wonder. “I don’t get it, what context?” Tom smiles to himself. “You’ll find out soon enough.” He pulls away a little so he can place a tender kiss on your soft lips. I can’t believe she almost found out about the proposal. If she had seen the ring last night the surprise would’ve been ruined. 
Theodore
You were trying to focus on the book in your hands, but you had to reread every sentence twice, because your mind kept going to Theodore’s words. Frustrated with your incapacity to read, you sigh and look around taking in your surroundings, it’s then that you spot Theo slowly walking in your direction. “Here it goes.” You mutter to yourself as you mentally prepare yourself for a painful break up. “Where have you been all day?” Theo asks, noticing you looking at him. You shrug, not in the mood for small talk. “Here.” You say dryly and Theodore’s tongue darts around in his mouth as he tries to figure out what’s going on. “Why did you ignore my note?” You look away from him. Can’t he just cut to the chase. 
Again you shrug, eyes still staring into the distance. Theodore raises his eyebrows, a little annoyed by your attitude. “Okay, princess. I’ll play.” He goes to sit opposite of you, giving you all his attention, but you snap your head towards him at his words. “You are unbelievable, Theodore Nott!” Your loud voice makes Theo clench his jaw. “Right back at ya, sweetie.” He’s annoyed, but he tries to stay calm, seeing how upset you are. “Don’t ‘sweetie’ me, Nott.” You snare. “I know you’re here to break up with me. I heard you talking at the astronomy tower last night. I know about your big plans that don’t involve a girlfriend. So you can scurry off now. I’ll be fine.” Theo opens his mouth before closing it again and chuckling softly. You frown. “This isn’t funny.” You say, clearly hurt by his lack of emotion. You reach for your book to hit it against his arm, but your boyfriend ceases the opportunity to grab your wrist and pull you closer to him, much to your dislike. 
“It’s funny, trust me.” He whispers, chuckling as he closes the space between you two. “I’m not gonna scurry off, princess, and I’m not breaking up with your dumb ass.” You try to pull your wrist free. “I heard you say-” Theo snakes an arm around your waist to keep you close, before interrupting you. “You heard what exactly?” You fall silent and look up at him with watery eyes. “Because I’m not breaking up with you, I love you a little too much and I’ve invested a bit too much money in an engagement ring. So you and I, we’re not breaking up any time soon.” The sadness in your eyes is replaced by surprise. “Engagement ring?” You whisper barely audible and Theo nods softly, eyes focused on yours. “So did you maybe hear me say something like : she’s not going to be my girlfriend for long?” He leans closer to you, eyes moving between your lips and your eyes. “Because you’re not going to be my girlfriend for long, since you’ll be my fiance soon and then-” Your lips crash on his and his hand moves to your head as he kisses you back passionately. “I’m an idiot.” You whisper between kisses, only making him kiss you harder. “Yeah, you are. You’re lucky you’re cute.” You frown and he chuckles. “I love you.” 
Draco
With closed eyes you enjoy the sounds of nature around you. “Hey!” You recognize your boyfriend’s voice and turn to see him walk up to you with his usual flair, though carefully watching the whomping willow afraid of what it might do. You turn away from him, not ready to face him after hearing him talk about breaking up with you last night. “What’s got you hiding out here?” He watches you with crossed arms and you chew your lip, fingers playing with the grass by your side. You were rarely this distance and he gets more worried. He decides to sit down next to you. “If something’s wrong you can tell me.” You’re surprised by the softness of his voice and turn to him. His heart breaks a little when he notices your puffy eyes, but he stays quiet, waiting for you to tell him what’s going on.
“I feel stupid, Draco.” You confess and he frowns at you, before you continue. “I- I just thought that when we lay in bed discussing the interior of our mansion that- I guess I believed that you really wanted that. You really had me believing you wanted that future with me.” Your boyfriend’s face goes paler than it usually is, but you don’t notice the horror in his eyes. “I respect your choice and I won’t make any drama, but I want you to know that I really wanted that… a future for just the two of us.” With those words you get up, feeling tears well up. “What?” Draco almost yells as he instantly gets up after you. “You can’t break up with me.” He grabs your hand and you look at him, confused at his words. “I’m not breaking up with you, you are breaking up with me.” Your explanation almost hurts Draco’s brain as he tries to make sense of what you’re saying. “No. No. Why would I break up with you?”
You press your lips into a line as you now notice how utterly confused he is. Your eyes rest on his hand holding onto yours, he didn’t want you to go anywhere. You look up at him, frowning. “But I heard you… last night… you said that- that I wasn’t going to be your girlfriend forever. Pansy asked if you were sure and you said yes. I clearly heard you say that.” Draco seems to relax at your words and a soft smile creeps up his lips. “Oh, love.” He lets go of your hand, before taking a step closer so there’s only an inch between you two and slings his arms around you, hugging you as he softly chuckles. “I’m not breaking up with you.” The calmness in his voice convinces you of his sincerity and you feel all the pain and tension leave your heart, making you blink away soft tears of joy.
You enjoy his warmth and hug him back, but after a moment your mind goes back to last night. “But then, what were you talking about?” You move away from him as you feel a bit of doubt make its way back to your heart. Draco tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and adores you with the sweetest smile on his lips. “You won’t be my girlfriend for long because I intend on marrying you.” Your eyes widen and you feel the purest form of happiness rush through you. “Marry me?” You whisper in surprise, not really believing what you had just heard. “Yes and I’m sure of it.” An intense blush forms on your cheeks and your eyes get sparkly as a soft laugh of joy leaves your lips. “I love you, Draco Malfoy.” He kisses tenderly, before locking his eyes with your and wiggling his eyebrows. “I love you too, future Mrs Malfoy.” You laugh and bite your lip. “I like that.” Draco pulls you closer, happy to hear your approval. You break a passionate kiss when your mind starts wondering again. “When are you asking?” You ask with a cheeky smile and Draco scoffs at your question. “I’m not telling. It’s already bad enough you know that I’m gonna ask.” 
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puckinghischier · 1 month
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thinking about how luke hughes is probably the best hugger known to man. like he is so large i just know his hugs would be like a big warm blanket around you making you forget anything that had you worried
“baby, what’s wrong?” Luke asked as you walked through the front door, shoulders rounded and a frown on your face.
“bad day, L” you responded, dropping your bag at the door and walking straight over to him, needing to feel one of his all encompassing hugs.
“hug, please?” you asked him, looking up at him.
he didn’t respond, but walked forward and wrapped his long arms around you, squeezing your body to his so tightly you felt like you would melt into him.
work had been rough lately, your duties increasing and your patience decreasing. you hadn’t had a day off in over a week, and you were so tired all you wanted to do was cry and then sleep. luke knew you’d been struggling lately. your coworkers were getting on your last nerve, management was making you madder by the day, and you just wanted time away from work, but despite your requests, they kept giving everyone else time off, but not you.
he wanted to be there for you, always trying to make sure the apartment was clean, the dishes were done, and dinner was either cooked and ready or a take out order was placed when you got home. on especially hard days, he even had a glass of your favorite wine waiting on you. but he couldn’t always be there.
with the new season quickly approaching, his training hours were increasing tremendously in anticipation of training camp starting. he was being pulled in a million different directions right now, not always there when you come home from a long day. those days were especially bad, because you had no relief from the shitty day when you got home, going and sulking on the couch instead.
luckily he was today, because all you wanted was him from the second your least favorite coworker started bitching at you today.
he rubs his hand up and down your back gently, the soothing motion causing you to close your eyes, somehow squishing yourself even further into him.
“i just don’t know how much longer i can do this, luke. i shouldn’t be feeling like this at the end of every day. i should be able to have at least one day to get away from that place and decompress, but they just won’t give me a day off,” you speak into his chest, not wanting to leave his warm embrace.
“you know i’ve told you i can take care of you, that you don’t have to keep working this job that’s killing you,” he responded, turning his head and laying his cheek on the top your head.
“and you know i’ve told you i can’t not work. you already pay for the apartment, i can’t let you pay for everything else by yourself too,” you remind him, having had this conversation several times in the last few months.
luke knows how you feel about him taking the biggest percentage of your shared bills, but he wishes you would just give in. he wants to provide for you, to give you the break that you so desperately need and deserve.
“i know, but it doesn’t have to be forever. quit this job and take a few months off before searching for another one. come to a bunch of my games this season and take some time to go back home and visit your family,” he suggests, knowing it’s been nearly a year since you last saw your them, not being able to get enough time off of work to make the trip home. “better yet, wait until next summer, then come spend it with us at the lake. or let me take you somewhere, just the two of us.”
he places a kiss to the hair on the top of your head, pulling back ever so slightly so you can lift your eyes up to meet his.
“i’ll think about it,” you appease him for the time being, not wanting to get into the full discussion right now. “right now i just wanna stay in this position for a little bit longer,” you move your head to bring your cheek to rest against his chest again, inhaling the comforting scent of his cologne.
you feel the rumble of his small chuckle in his chest, squeezing you before whispering a small “jump” while sliding his hands down to grasp under your ass, picking you up and carrying you over to couch as you cling to him like a koala.
he lays his back on the couch, bringing your body down with his so you’re laying on top of him while his arms pin you to his torso. you relax yourself into him, wiggling around just slightly to make yourself comfortable.
luke brings a hand up to play with you hair, caressing the back of your head. you bring your own hands to rest behind his neck, twirling one especially long curl around your finger over and over again, the warmness of his body and the repeated motion of his hand smoothing down your hair lulling you into a half-sleep, half-awake state.
luke says nothing, just laying there and holding you, waiting on you to make the first move to get up. if it was up to you, though, you’d never leave from this position. wanting to live and die in one of luke’s hugs.
after luke feels your breath even out and soft snores start leaving your slightly open mouth, he moves his hand from your hair to rub your back again, wanting to give you time to rest before waking you up to eat dinner.
almost an hour later, you stir, causing luke’s movements to pause.
“how long was i out?” you rasp without moving.
“about an hour. was gonna wait a bit longer before seeing what you wanted for dinner,” he whispered, his lips resting right by one of your ears.
“cuddles,” you tell him, burrowing yourself further into his chest.
luke laughs at you again, stabilizing your head with a large hand, preventing you from shaking all over with his laughter.
“you gotta eat something, baby. not good to go to sleep on an empty stomach,” he scolds you, knowing if he didn’t get food in you soon, you’d wake up tomorrow with an empty belly and a hangry attitude.
“please don’t make me move, L. the longer i lay here the more i forget about why today was so bad in the first place,” you tell him, fisting his shirt to physically ground yourself to him.
luke’s heart swells at your words, face flushing while a grin breaks out on his relaxed face.
“okay, i’ll give you another thirty minutes, but that’s it. then we’re getting up and ordering something to eat. we also need to get your stinky ass in the shower,” he teases, pinching the soft, exposed flesh on your side from where your shirt was slightly raised from all of your wiggling earlier.
you yelp and squirm around on him, brining your legs to hook around both of his, making it to where he can’t stand up without taking you with him.
“we’ll see about that,” you challenge him, nuzzling your face into his chest, focusing on the sound of his heartbeat in his chest to lull you back to sleep.
when you wake up the next morning, in the same position on the couch as last night, your stomach immediately starts to growl, not letting you forget that you didn’t eat dinner last night after convincing luke to stay there with you all night.
you were short and snappy with him, poking his face so he can let go of you so you can go shower and change for work.
knowing you were likely just hungry from last night, he slips out and runs down to your favorite bagel place to grab you some breakfast, making it back before you ever even stepped foot out of the shower.
when you finally came out of the bathroom, half-dressed with tears in your eyes, luke was immediately concerned, walking over to wipe the pooling tears and ask what was wrong.
“i can’t find my favorite blouse and i don’t want to wear another one. i could’ve swore i had washed it and hung it up, but i can’t find it, so now i’m going to look like an idiot at work all day,” you sniffle, still emotional from the previous work day.
luke assured you he’ll help you find it, but when he pulls it out of the dirty laundry hamper you almost go over the edge, mad at yourself that you didn’t wash it.
your tears quickly turn to angry ones, telling him to forget it, you’ll just find something else and then slam the door to your bedroom in his face.
when you come out in a very similar looking blouse to the one you wanted, he can still sense the hostility in your actions and attitude.
he slowly walks over to you as you unwrap your bagel, getting a little too frustrated when the wrapper is stuck to the cheese, this one piece of wax paper refusing to separate from the bagel.
tears start to spill over your eyes, causing luke to rush to your aid, tearing off the stubborn piece of paper.
“thank- thank you,” you speak softly through a hiccup.
“what else can i do to help you?” he asks, not wanting to send you off to work already in a state of unease.
“hug me?” you look at him with a pout, making luke laugh at the never ending cycle, but feeling the same about hugging him as you do, never wanting to step away from the warm blanket of comfort both of you create in these moments.
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zevrra · 23 days
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never forget—
synopsis: where sebastian is actually worried about MC and regrets casting crucio on them caaaause that moment in the game was not enough for me pfft!
tags: 18(+), lil angst, mostly fluff, sebastian(18) x reader, i didn’t know how to end this oops, one-shot, 2k words.
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“Crucio!”
The pain that followed that one little word was excruciating.
Yet the spell casted upon you was of your own doing. You, Ominis, and Sebastian had become good friends since your first day at Hogwarts. Always together, always the 3 of you somehow in trouble. Well, mostly you and Sebastian. Somehow Ominis always managed to get out of the trouble the two of you dragged him into. You were Slytherin after all, it was most likely in your blood.
When you first met Sebastian, he had such an eager to learn that his demeanor was contagious. So much so you couldn’t help but also want to gain more knowledge with him over the years. It was all thanks to Ominis from keeping you two from ending up expelled. Your savior in a sense. But ever since the three of you had become good friends, Sebastian never let up about Salazar Slytherin. He was set on finding his Scriptorium, begging Ominis for so long to show him the way. Seeing as he believed finding it would help cure his sister’s, Anne, curse.
When Ominis had finally given into you both and led the way, the three of you worked wonderfully together. Traversing dark and wary caves. Fending off giant spiders, solving puzzles all that good stuff. Until finally you reach a room with a single note, bones buried in dirt, no way out, the word CRUCIO etched into the stone before your feet, and what looked to be a screaming apparition burned onto a mirror.
You sadly read the note aloud for all to hear. Detailing a grim last few words from Ominis’s aunt. Who unfortunately had gone looking for the Scriptorium, alone, and met an untimely fate. You reach out to gently touch Ominis’s shoulder and he stills beneath your touch.
“I’m so sorry about your aunt, Omni.” You mourn. He nods in acceptance. Nothing they did now could’ve changed what had happened to his aunt. He would at least find some peace in knowing what happened to her.
Sebastian is at your side then. Concerned look on his own freckled face. “Ominis…I know it’s hard. But the letter details using Crucio. You’re the best suited for this—“
“No! I won’t do it. To use Crucio you have to mean it. I will not cast that spell ever again…especially on you two.” Ominis steps away from your reach. Closing off from the activity entirely. You didn’t blame him.
You turn to face Sebastian then who looks..almost disappointed with Ominis's rejection. He gestures for you to follow him closer to the wailing mirror. Hauntingly beautiful, even in its twisted state.
“Well, two options. You cast Crucio on me, or I…cast it on you. It’s the only way we’re getting out of here. We can’t die here and now because of—of morals.” Sebastian whispers to you. The thought of dying in that suffocating tomb alone makes your skin crawl.
Ominis had always been vocal about how horrible any of the killing curses were, especially this spell. Seeing as he was forced to cast it when he was younger. The nightmares still haunt the blonde from what you could tell. His sleepless nights. The flinch at loud noises. It was obvious, whatever you decided, that this would forever weigh heavy on your soul. Yet the spell…could come in handy when facing Ranrok. He was your enemy after all.
You hoped it would never come down to using it though.
“Fine. Teach me the spell but you…you cast it on me. I won’t hurt you Seb.” You mumble. And at first, he’s hesitant. His wand slightly swayed before he reluctantly nods. His hands slightly shake as he teaches you the wave of the wand. He had never performed the dark arts before and this could go very wrong or just really wrong. Either way was going to hurt. But you trusted him.
That’s how you ended up in the here and now. Agonizing pain ripped through your flesh like lightning. Flames behind your eyeballs that force them to shut tight. Hoping to ease the pain away. Your teeth gnash against your lip to hold back screams of pain. It does nothing. Dark magic moves under your skin like writhing red and green tentacles. You gasp between almost suffocating screams.
Breathe in, scream, breathe out.
Your back is against the stone, arched, burning hot. Even as Ominis, or maybe it was Sebastian’s, or both of their hands are grabbing at your arms. Cool fingers press into your hot flesh as the boy’s try to lift you from the floor.
They try to comfort you during one of the worst moments of your life. It doesn’t help. They both fumble as they move you into the room that opened up behind the wailing mirror. The pain is nauseating. Every fumble, correction, and movement makes your stomach churn. Threatening to spill out your lunch. Your consciousness is slowly fading at this point. Stars blinking behind your eyelids as you grasp for whatever you can to stay awake.
Through the pulsing pain in your head and ears, you barely hear the two boys arguing. More or less Ominis yelling about how he was right. How this was a stupid idea as he struggles to help carry you. Ominis can’t see where he steps yet he’s trying so hard to save you now.
“You—you’re both idiots!” Ominis snarls. Struggling with words through his rage and panic. “How could you do something like this!”
“I understand, Ominis! Just—just, Merlin, help me! Help me get to the infirmary!” Sebastian spits back as they continue to fumble around, looking for an exit.
The last thing you hear is Sebastian calling for desperate help before the pain becomes too much and finally takes you under. Passing out from the curse spell later than you would’ve liked.
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When concussions come back to you, it’s almost unbearable. Your eyes flutter open but fall closed once again. Maybe you could just stay like that for forever. Lying on a cloud, nice and warm, with your eyes closed. Eh, sounds a little too much like death for your liking.
Thankfully, your second attempt at waking up is far more fruitful. Candlelight flickers rapidly at the edge of your feet as your eyes slowly come into focus. You make out the white sheets laying across your body. Feel the firm mattress against your back. Connecting the dots, slowly but surely, that you were in the infirmary.
Your head moves slightly to continue looking around. Hoping a nurse was close by so you could ask for some water or medicine or anything to make the dull ache in your body stop. Instead your eyes find Sebastian.
His unruly brown hair is somehow even messier than usual. He slumps against the side of your bed and from what you can tell, he might be asleep. Seeing as it was sometime during the night. If you had to guess he probably snuck into the infirmary to be at your side.
Suddenly memories of what happened in the Scriptorium come back to you. Sending a harsh chill down your entire body. The cast of Crucio echoes in the back of your mind. You’ll never forget the feeling. Or the look on Seb’s face as he waved the spell and casted it upon you.
‘Crucio can only be cast if you mean it.’ You remember Ominis’s haunting words. Sebastian must’ve meant it. But you try your best to not blame him. He was just trying to get you all out of that stone grave.
“Seb…” You try to speak. Your throat burns as you attempt to rouse the sleeping man at your side. Voice hoarse, borderline gone, from what you can only assume is from the screaming you barely remember doing. “Sebastian.” You barely manage his full name.
His body shifts at the sound of his name but he doesn’t rise. So you make your way to sit up. Although the moment you prepare to sit up, weight shifting ever so slightly, Sebastian shoots up instantly. His pretty green eyes meet your gaze in a wild look. As if he can’t believe you’re awake. Dried drool sticks to the edge of his lips. You can’t help but laugh. Or what you assume is a laugh. To Seb it probably sounds like you’re coughing.
“I—we—are you okay?” Seb stumbles over his words. Knowing Sebastian, he most likely had something planned to say the moment you woke up. Yet now he was almost speechless. For the first time ever.
“I’m o-okay just…w-water.” You manage to mumble. Now he’s quick to react. A glass of water is held out with lightning speed to you and you take it graciously.
After a moment of what felt like an eternity of being parched, you chug the water given to you, before you hand the glass off and sit fully upright. Your fingers lay in your lap, picking at the cotton of the blanket.
Silence falling between the two of you was so uncommon. It almost felt worse than writhing in pain. Not really but the wall built up was hard to ignore. You needed that wall to come down.
“How long was I asleep?” You ask softly. Breaking the silence as your throat is finally feeling better after some water.
“Three days,” Sebastian replies. He doesn’t look at you. You don’t blame him, not really. The guilt must weigh heavy on his shoulders.
Three days. The fact that it had been days since you had passed out in the scriptorium made your gut twist. You can’t even imagine what rumors must have spread among the school. Or the amount of questions the headmaster will be asking you. Oh you were definitely in for some trouble.
“I’m so sorry.”
Apologies were not something Sebastian was known for. The fact that he was apologizing at all was almost shocking. You didn’t have to guess that he didn’t really mean it when he casted Crucio. It was all just a matter of choices, for you all to survive.
“It’s okay,” Your voice is soft as you speak. “I don’t want you to blame yourself. I agreed to it Sebastian,” You remind him. It only makes Seb angrier with himself.
“Of course I blame myself! I could’ve killed you!” Sebastian says in a strained voice. He wants to scream and yell. He wants you to scream and yell at him. For letting him do something so stupid. For not listening to Ominis in the first place. For being too eager.
“It was a matter of life or death Seb you know that—“ You began to say but he cuts you off as he quickly stands from his chair.
“But what if there was another way!? What if I didn’t have to…didn’t want to—I could’ve changed something!” He angrily hisses as he turns his head away from you.
Silences befalls between the two of you again. Stretched longer than previously as you can’t think of something to say. He had three days to beat himself up for dragging all three of you to that scriptorium. You couldn’t imagine how many scenarios he himself had imagined over and over again while in your slumber.
“What if I had lost you?”
The soft words are barely loud enough to hear. Just a whisper under his breath you almost can’t manage to make out. But you do. The somber confession comes at you like a heavy rainstorm. Unexpected, welcoming, lovely, and a little noisy from his previous minor outburst. Building from a small drop to a straight downpour and you’re caught in the middle of it with no umbrella.
Even in the candlelight you see the tips of ears, beat red as he refuses to look at you. Shoulders tense as he tries to will himself to calm down. It was late, you weren’t supposed to be awake, and he wasn’t supposed to be there. It was not the time for this conversation.
Yet it makes you smile anyway. Butterflies jump around under your skin, in your heart, stomach following suit in doing somersaults. You reach with a gentle hand and grab hold of his shirt sleeve, giving it a tug. For a moment he stands completely still. Debating whether or not it was the right moment to hash all of this out. It wasn’t. Yet a second tug on his sleeve has him turning to finally look at you.
This time when you meet his green eyes, his wild look is gone. He looks at you like you’re the cure to whatever alignment he’s currently experiencing. It’s a saddened, sleepless, relieved look. Feeling every emotion he’s ever felt in his life all in the span of a few short seconds.
You smile fondly at Sebastian, praying he could see it in the soft light of the infirmary. “But you didn’t,” You remind him. Almost gesturing to you, him, and your surroundings. “I’m still here, Seb.”
Sebastian simply nods. Not having the courage to speak for it may bring him to tears. Now that would truly be the end of the world if that happened.
You reach for his hand. Reassuring and gentle as your fingers intertwine with his. He’s stiff as a board at your touch. He has always yearned for it but never had the faith to act upon his feelings.
“Plus, it’ll take more than that to get rid of me.” You say hoping to ease the young man’s feelings. At least for tonight.
A squeeze to your hand is the only response you receive as he returns to his seat. He rests your connected hands on the bed before his head follows suit. Instead of returning to the side of your bed he makes himself comfy on your thigh. You smile at the puzzling picture before you.
The great Sebastian Sallow, a man who rarely asks for any help, unless it involves trekking in some dark cave somewhere, was vulnerably sprawled out on top of you.
You stifle a giggle, fearing if he heard you laugh he would assume the worst and pull away. Instead your free hand pushes through his hair. Pushing away dark curly hair from his freckled face.
“You should return to the dorms before the nurse finds you.” You hum as your eyes scan his own closed eyes. Gazing at the lengths of his eyelashes. Every freckle you could see, thinking how fun it could be to count them one day.
“‘Ts fine,” Sebastian shrugs it off. You hear the softness of his breathing, slowly becoming shallow as he falls asleep. Fast asleep in your thigh with his hand tightly wound to yours. You wish you could have a painting done of this moment. Hoping by every ounce of magic in your veins that you never forget this feeling or the sight. And by Merlin does the sight make your heart ache and pound in equal parts.
You just hoped to never go through something like this ever again. Hopefully Sebastian would see how powerful and dangerous the dark arts could be and look for another solution to healing Anne’s curse. Maybe the ancient magic you wield could help next time instead of turning to the unforgiving curses.
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rollingsins · 1 year
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all hers, epilogue
part i | part ii | part iii | part iv | part v | part vi | part vii | part viii | part ix | part x | part xi | part xii | part xiii | part xiv | part xv | part xvi | part xvii | part xviii | part xix | part xx | part xxi | part xxii | part xxiii | part xxiv | part xxv | part xxvi | epilogue
summary: Tara and YN try their hand at some healthier habits.
warnings: (+18), Tara is Ghostface, mention of violence. Smut.
word count: 5.3k
a/n: it's been a wild ride. thanks for all who have come along. all hers is over, but I will still be writing gf!tara drabbles in the same universe - maybe some college oneshots in the drabble files. Until then: enjoy the final chapter! :)) 
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As the days turn into weeks and the weeks turn into months, slowly, the pain subsides.
Your normal? It’s potentially forever gone. It shouldn’t be a surprise, at this point.
Once you’d just been a teenage girl, crazily in love with another girl.
Who turned out to be a serial killer. Who’d somehow turned you into a killer.
Who’d made you cry, and laugh and love harder than you’d ever loved in your entire life.
In the grand scheme of things - the scar on your belly is probably the least of your worries.
But that doesn’t stop you toiling on it.
It always seems to be the way, doesn’t it? Worrying about the things that don’t really matter.
You worry nonetheless.
“It’s pretty,” Tara murmurs in comfort when you’re staring at yourself in the bathroom mirror, shirt lifted slightly, eyebrows pinched in dismay.
It’s not pretty.
It’s wiry and long and stems from the tip of your bellybutton down to your navel.
“It’s hideous.” You say, voice a little fraught.
It’s hideous and permanent.
You’ll never be able to wear a bikini again. You’ll never be able to take your shirt off again without being reminded of it.
Of her.
The woman who had tormented you for weeks.
The woman who you’d tormented for weeks. The woman whose son you’d taken from her. The woman who’d repaid you in mental scars to last a lifetime.
A belly scar to last a lifetime.
“It’s beautiful,” Tara says, pressing her lips to your shoulder, “It means you’re alive.”
She squeezes your hips, then lifts her own shirt.
“And it matches mine,” She says, eyes shimmering, “Matching knife wounds. Like soulmates.”
You snort.
Because of course Tara tries to make stab wounds romantic.
But to her credit - it works.
Your heart sings.
Soulmates.
Because that’s what you are.
“Who needs a wedding ring, right?” You say, biting your lip, insecurities suddenly fading.
Tara entwines your hands, lifts the back of your hand to her lips.
“You do,” Tara says, “And you’ll have one. Soon. I promise.”
You pull back.
“Not before-“
“College,” Tara says, rolling her eyes, “I know, babe.”
You press a lingering kiss to her cheek.
“I just don’t want to be one of those couples who rush into marriage and fall apart the moment they turn twenty-one.”
“That won’t be us,” Tara whines, and then she pouts, “Plenty of high school sweethearts get married right after high school.”
You groan.
“Tara, we talked about this already-“
“I know,” Tara says, voice hasty, “I’m just excited. I want you to be Mrs. Carpenter already.”
“Mrs Carpenter, huh?” You say, ignoring the fluttery rush that blooms through you at the thought, “And what if I want you to take my name?”
Tara cocks a brow and considers this.
“I don’t care, babe, I’ll change my name to garden gnome if you want, as long as I get to be your wife.” She says after a moment.
You smile. Squeeze her hand.
“You’d suit it,” You tease, “But Mrs and Mrs Carpenter has a nice ring to it.”
Tara tilts her head hopefully.
“So, maybe a high school wedding?” She asks, voice sly, “Mrs Carpenter would look good on your college application forms.”
You press a warm kiss to her lips.
“There’s no rush, babe,” You tell her, “And I need to save up. Get you a pretty ring.”
Tara squints.
“I’m proposing first,” She says immediately, “You promised, babe.”
You roll your eyes.
“Yes, you baby, I know.”
Tara tilts her head, seemingly satisfied.
You press a kiss to her lips. She’s cured your insecurity, for now.
But a new feeling gnaws at the bottom of your stomach.
Dread.
As you realize what comes next. You try to keep your voice light. Lighter than the heavy pit at the bottom of your stomach.
“Come on,” You say, trying and failing not to sound anxious, “It’s time for therapy.”
-
Dr Colmann is a five foot woman with long, flowing blonde hair and piercing blue eyes.
Her office is bland. Gray walls. Little decoration.
Like she wants your attention on her.
You’d met her first, a few weeks ago. Like a pterodactyl scouting out a potential nest for her baby.
Your situation is tricky - there’s only so much you can tell her.
And you’re no doctor - but even you know surely it’s impossible to diagnose an illness without knowing all the symptoms.
“I want to get something out of the way,” You’d said after a long moment, clearing your throat.
Dr Colmann had looked over at you, pen tilted and ready to write. With all the intimidation of a woman who was about to change your life.
“I’m aware my girlfriend is…” You had paused, trying to think of the right word, “A little… possessive.”
Dr Colmann said nothing.
“I know that, and that’s why we’re looking for help.” You’d bitten your lip, nervous, “And I’m also sure the first thing you’re going to tell me is to leave her. But that isn’t going to happen. I love her. And she loves me. We’re looking for coping methods. I want to help her feel secure. But I will not break up with her.”
Dr Colmann had just listened.
Her silence, if possible, made you all the more nervous.
“She’s not abusive or anything,” You’d clarified, hastily, “She doesn’t hurt me. She just gets… jealous.”
“And what does she do when she gets jealous?” She’d asked, finally breaking her silence.
“Um-“ You’d said, voice a little high. Memories flashed before you like nightmares and you’d been entirely grateful your thoughts couldn’t be seen.
“She lashes out. Not at me. At other people.”
Dr Colmann scribbled something in her notepad. Long, wiry, black inky marks.
You’d squinted, trying to make up the words, but she’d looked back at you before you’d had the chance.
“Do you have any examples?” Dr Colmann prompted.
You paused.
You had a fair few of those.
None of which you could disclose.
“Little things,” You said, “I used to play soccer. But I had to quit because Tara thought some of the girls might become interested in me.”
You chew your lip.
“And… I was just in the hospital. She got jealous of the nurse.”
“The nurse?”
“She tried to… give me a sponge bath and Tara freaked out.”
Dr Colman stared.
You swallowed. The words out loud somehow seemed even more ridiculous than they are.
“How did she freak out?” Dr Colmann asked.
“She tried to…” You swallowed again, “She didn’t want the nurse to touch me again. Not even to change my bandages.”
Dr Colmann pursed her lips.
“I told her that was stupid,” You’d said, hurriedly, “But when she gets like that, nothing can stop her. She calls it The Rage.”
Dr Colmann tilted her head.
“The Rage?”
You’d nodded.
“Yeah. It’s like… it’s like something takes over her. Like a demon or something. Something she can’t control.”
Dr Colmann had closed her notebook. She’d looked over at you, surveying. You’d blinked back, eyes wide, surely screaming help me, or something to that effect.
Then, she smiled.
“When can I meet her?”
-
You’re no less nervous the second time.
You greet Dr Colmann with a tight smile, draw Tara down into the seat next to you. Your knee bobs up and down, unable to quell the tide of anxiety rising deep within you.
Please, you think, a little desperate, please help her.
As Tara and Dr Colmann exchange pleasantries, you blink. Too many times.
Like you don’t know how this is going to go. The worst case scenario flashes before you: Dr Colmann in a body bag.
Tara in a jail cell.
You in a jail cell.
Never able to touch her, or hold her, or kiss her ever again.
You need therapy, the little voice in your head leers, judgmental, not being with Tara is worse than a woman dying?
“So, Tara,” Dr Colmann says, when you’re all seated. With all the cheeriness of someone who isn’t aware you’re imagining her as a corpse.
“Tell me about The Rage.”
An awkward silence settles over the three of you.
Tara shoots a hesitant look towards you.
You squeeze her hand and nod.
Then, she looks over to Dr Colmann.
“It’s an anger thing,” Tara mumbles, not looking her in the eye, “I’ve seen shrinks before, none of them can fix it.”
Dr Colmann tilts her head.
“And what did these other doctors do?” She asks, “Anger management classes? Medication?”
“Both,” Tara says, “Nothing ever worked.”
Dr Colmann hums.
“I’ve read through your file, Tara,” She says gently, “Fourteen different therapists across the state. That’s a lot of doctors. Especially for such a young girl.”
Tara assesses her. Her face is tight, guarded. Like she’s not sure if she can quite trust her.
Dr Colmann scribbles something in her notepad.
“Lots of kids have problems with anger,” Says Dr Colmann, “But anger is just a symptom, like any other emotion. From what YN has told me, anger isn’t the problem. Sharing is the problem.”
Tara frowns.
“Plenty of children have issues with sharing,” Dr Colmann continues, “Usually, it’s the parents who stamp it out. But not always. I see in your file your sister used to bear the brunt of most of these anger issues.”
Tara folds her arms.
“Not always,” She says.
“But most of the time,” Says Dr Colmann, pointedly. She squints, reading through her notes, “It says here you attacked your sister when you were four years old because she tried to play with one of your Barbie dolls. Then again, later that week for taking a bigger slice of pie.”
“Four year olds are allowed to have boundaries, aren’t they?” Says Tara, defensively, “That Barbie was mine.”
“And YN? She’s yours too?” Asks Dr Colmann, evenly.
Tara blinks.
“She’s my girlfriend.” Tara says, diplomatically. The question is a trap, one she’s determined to avoid.
Dr Colmann tilts her head.
“And you don’t like when other people play with her? Is that right?”
Anger flickers through Tara’s features. You bite your lip, and squeeze her hand. Try to keep her grounded.
“I suppose not.” Says Tara, voice tight.
“YN told me about the nurse,” Dr Colmann says, “And the soccer team. You made her quit? Why?”
Tara looks over to you, a little helpless.
“I didn’t make her quit,” She says, slowly, like she’s being very careful with her words, “I just… suggested it. Strongly.”
Dr Colmann makes a noise of dissatisfaction.
Then returns to madly scribbling on her notepad.
Tara frowns again, looking self-conscious.
Dr Colmann looks up.
“And what if someone on the soccer team had been interested?” Dr Colmann asks, “What would you have done?”
You avert your gaze.
Kill them, is the answer.
It’s already happened.
More than once.
Tara shifts.
“I wouldn’t like it.” Tara says.
“No reasonable person would like that, Tara,” Dr Colmann prods, gently, “But what would you do?”
“I don’t know,” Says Tara, sounding aggravated, “Not let her see them anymore.”
“And do you think that’s an appropriate request?” Dr Colmann asks, “Do you really think you should have control over who your girlfriend associates with?”
Tara narrows her eyes.
“YN would do it for me,” She says, “We’re in a relationship. Relationships are about compromise.”
“That isn’t compromise, Tara,” Dr Colmann says, gently, “That’s you demanding she do something and her complying. Do you not trust her?”
Tara blinks.
She looks over to you, then back to Dr Colmann.
“Of course I do,” She says, voice soft, “It’s other people I don’t trust.”
“And what do you think these other people are going to do?” Dr Colmann asks.
“I don’t know.” Tara says, voice small, as if she’s never really thought that far ahead.
She looks like a little lost puppy. You want to wrap her in your arms and tell her you’ll never talk to anybody else again if that’s what she wants.
You resist.
Healthy wife, happy life, is what you tell yourself instead.
Dr Colmann’s face washes with sympathy.
“Jealousy is pointless, Tara,” Dr Colmann says, voice gentle, “Worrying is pointless. If YN is going to cheat on you, she’ll cheat on you. If she’s going to leave you, she’ll leave you. There’s nothing you - or The Rage can do about it.”
Tara blinks.
“I-“ She says, as if Dr Colmann has just spit in her face “What?”
Dr Colmann sits forward in her seat. Her notebook discarded.
“What you need to do - is trust. Your girlfriend loves you. Clearly. She wouldn’t be here with you if she didn’t.”
Tara frowns.
“You’re afraid of losing her,” Dr Colman says, eyebrows knit, as if Tara is a particularly difficult puzzle she can’t quite get her head around, “But why? We’ve already established she loves you. She wouldn’t be here with you if she didn’t.”
Tara blinks. You soothe a finger across the back of her hand. Resist the urge to press a kiss to her pretty forehead.
You let the doctor do the work.
“Have other people you loved left you, Tara?” Dr Colmann prods, gently.
Tara’s shoulders tense.
Dr Colmann waits a moment.
“Who?” She asks, "Your Mom? Your Dad?”
“Both.” Tara says, voice small, “They both left me.”
Your heart aches.
If you could - you’d sucker punch the two of them right now.
It isn’t an option. Instead - you grip her hand tight, offer her a small smile of encouragement as she speaks.
Tara swallows.
“My Dad tried to fix me,” Tara says, “For years. I was an angry kid. They could never figure out what was wrong with me. Eventually he just… gave up. He walked out on me and My Mom and my sister. Left us, just like that.”
“That must have been very traumatic,” Says Dr Colmann, “How old were you?”
“Thirteen.” Says Tara, “My Mom never left. I mean, she did. She threw herself into work to cope with my Dad leaving. She started going on these long business trips. But she never officially left.”
Dr Colmann offers her a small smile, “And that’s why you get so jealous, is it Tara? You’re afraid YN will leave you? Like your Mom? Like your Dad?”
Tara hesitates.
She looks down at her hands.
“Yes.” She says, after a long moment.
“Baby,” You say, voice hushed. Tara squeezes your fingers.
Dr Colmann hums.
“That makes a lot of sense, Tara,” She says, her voice kind, “That gives us something to work with.”
She closes her notepad, offers the two of you a reassuring smile.
“Your anger - we can work through that. We can figure out some coping methods. But the main problem here isn’t anger, Tara. It’s trust. I know you said you trust YN but you’re still scared. Deep down you’re scared she’ll abandon you, just like your parents did. We need to work through that.”
“Is it something we can fix?” You ask, a tad desperate.
You’d lost count of the amount of times you’d promised Tara you’d never leave her.
And each time it seemed to fall on deaf ears the moment The Rage was invoked.
“We can try,” Dr Colmann says, “I can try. And it’ll take some hard work. But Tara, it’ll only work if you’re open to it. If you’re open to changing. Is that something you can do?”
Tara thinks for a moment.
And then she nods.
“Yeah,” She says, “I want to do it. I want to be different. For you, babe,”
She squeezes your hand. Thinks hard.
“And for me too."
-
You’re silent the entire way home.
Tara too.
She grips your hand so hard you think it might fall off at one point. It’s only when she pulls into the driveway, she speaks.
“I didn’t scare you off, did I?” She asks, chewing her lip as she looks over at you, “With all my… problems.”
“Never, baby,” You say immediately.
You lean over to kiss her cheek. She relaxes.
“I’m going to need a lot of therapy, aren’t I?” She says, sounding worried.
You press another warm kiss to her cheek.
“I’ll be with you the whole way,” You assure, “I'm not going anywhere, Tara.”
You hesitate.
“You know I’m not like your Dad, right?” You say, “Or your Mom. I’m not going to leave you.”
Tara offers you a small smile.
“I know, babe,” She says, “At least in theory, I know.”
You press a kiss to her lips.
“I guess I’ll just have to remind you then,” you say, “Everyday. I love you. You’re stuck with me. I’ll say it until you believe me in theory and in practice.”
Tara rests her forehead against yours.
“Okay,” She says, “And keep saying it after that, okay babe?”
You kiss her.
“Deal.”
-
Your Mom’s still in the hospital.
Her leg had been amputated after the attack, and the procedure hadn’t been easy on her or your Dad. She’d come home after two weeks and then been admitted once more when the wound became infected.
“Are you feeling okay?” You ask her now, chewing your lip, phone pressed to your ear.
Tara finishes up the dishes, setting down the washcloth to nestle in beside you, squeezing your hip comfortingly.
“I’m okay, sweetheart,” She says, “Will you come and visit tomorrow?”
“I’ll be there,” You promise, “Sam is going to pick us up after school.”
“And everything’s alright at the house?” Enquires your Mom.
You were staying at Tara’s place until your parents came back home, a decision that was quickly agreed on, for once.
“Everything’s fine, Mom,” You assure, “Sam’s working now, but she’ll be home in a couple of hours.”
Your Mom hums.
“And Tara’s there with you, isn’t she?” She asks, sounding a little worried, “You’re not alone?”
“Tara’s here,” You say and Tara kisses the back of your neck, “You don’t have to worry, Mom.”
“Is that Tara?” Asks your Dad through the phone, a little gruff, “Can I speak with her?’
“Dad wants to speak to Tara, YN, bye for now,” Says your Mom, “See you tomorrow.”
You barely get out the goodbye before you hear your Dad’s voice once more.
“Tara?” He asks.
“It’s me Dad,” You say, and he makes a noise of vague disappointment.
You roll your eyes.
“We’re fine, thanks for asking.” You say.
“Yes, yes, I heard you speak with Mom,” He assures, “Put Tara on the phone.”
You hand off the phone to your girlfriend and pry yourself out of her grip, busying yourself with playing the leftovers into their containers.
“Hello, Sir,” Says Tara, the way you might speak to the President.
She bobs her head, eyebrows knitting.
“Yes, I did see the 49ers play.”
You huff.
Tara averts her gaze.
“Yes, I did think they played like a bunch of seven year old girls.”
You roll your eyes once more.
Tara’s newfound friendship with your Dad is better than the alternative, at least. You’d lived the alternative.
It hadn’t been much fun.
“We’re okay,” Tara promises, suddenly, “I have every door locked down, alarms set and cameras operating.”
Your Dad murmurs something down the line you can’t hear.
Tara smiles, and then reaches for your hand.
“I’m not letting her out of my sight, Sir, you don’t have to worry,” She says, “I won’t let anyone hurt her. I promise.”
She hangs up not long after.
You should be used to it by now, the flutter in the pit of your stomach every time she gets protective, or calls you hers, but you’re not.
Butterflies cascade through your belly, branching out to the tips of your fingertips where they settle. You curl in around Tara and press your lips to her neck.
She smells good. No perfume, just the tinge of her skin and her coconut body wash.
You squeeze her hips and nip your teeth against the nape of her neck.
“Oh.” Tara sighs as you slip your fingers into the waistband of your jeans. She leans back into your touch, titling your head to capture your lips.
“Really?” She asks, a little excited.
You laugh.
You’d not had sex in a few weeks, hardly in the mood. Your wound aches most days, and the rest are spent really remarkably unsexy, despite Tara’s constant reassurance you’re the most beautiful girl in the world.
She turns in your arms, pressing another kiss to your lips.
“Sam won’t be home for hours,” You murmur against her lips, “Just you and me. The way it should be.”
“Your stomach doesn’t hurt?” She asks, a little soft. Her eyes swim with concern, “We can just watch a movie, if you want?”
You shake your head.
She looks good. Her dark hair pulled back in a ponytail. No makeup, her spill of freckles poignant, her pretty lips pouty and red and kissable.
“I want you, baby,” You murmur, nuzzling your nose to the side of her face, “Do you want me too?”
You don’t have to wait long for a response.
She presses a searing kiss to your lips.
“Do you even have to ask?” She says, biting her lip.
“No,” You smile, “But I want to hear you say it anyway.”
“I want you,” She says, immediately. She’s excited again, you can tell by the way her eyes flicker, “I want you all the time.”
“Come take me then,” You murmur against her mouth.
She doesn’t have to be told twice.
She leads you up the staircase, walking backwards. Her mouth fused to yours, her careful hands roaming every span of skin she can get her hands on.
She helps you onto the bed, far gentler than her usual gig of wild hands and wild lips. Instead, this time she touches you as if you might shatter into a thousand pieces.
You make an annoyed murmur as she pulls your jeans down your legs. It feels like an age, the way she softly untangles the button and the zipper. Her touch is light, so un-Tara.
When she finally pulls your legs from your jeans, you almost cry out of frustration.
“Babe, I’m not going to break.” You tell her, but it falls on deaf ears.
She’s pressing her lips to your thigh, tiny, gentle touches as she pulls your underwear down your legs at a pain-stakingly slow pace.
“Don’t rush me, babe,” She says as you reach down to help her, “And lie back. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I feel fine,” You say, tilting up to meet her kiss, “Please hurt me.”
Tara huffs, drawing back slightly.
“It’s not fair to say things like that when you know I can’t.” She pouts, “The things I want to do to you will almost certainly rip your stitches.”
Arousal coils deep in your belly.
Then annoyance.
“Now who's not being fair?” It’s your turn to pout.
Tara nudges her lips to your neck.
“I’m going to make love to you, baby-girl,” She promises, her eyes dark, “That’s more than fair.”
You tilt your head up and press a lingering kiss to her lips.
“Besides. If I rip your stitches I think your Dad will have something to say.”
You wrinkle your nose.
“Let’s not talk about my Dad when we’re getting naked, babe,” You suggest.
She hums in agreement.
And then you reach for her shirt.
“Off.”
If she’s going to spend the entire evening getting your underwear down your legs, the least she can do is give you something to look at, you reason.
Your touch is impatient.
You pry off her jeans like there’s a time limit. Strip her of her shirt and her bra until she’s hovering naked above you, making your mouth water.
And suddenly, what little patience you had left is gone.
You rise up, starling her.
“Babe-“ She protests, but you can’t be reasoned with.
You tilt her around, until she’s lying back on the mattress, nudging her bare legs apart with your thighs.
“Too slow, my turn.” You murmur.
Your lips are hungry.
You kiss her, fierce, groaning slightly as your hands get to work. They work down the curve of her hips, to her thighs. You squeeze her, a little rough, and then move your hands to take her nipples between your fingers.
She gasps, her hips involuntarily jerking up towards yours. You detangle yourself from her lips, leaning down to press hot kisses against her neck.
She threads her fingers through your hair, tugging, tugging, as she moves against you. She’s still holding back, being careful not to touch your stomach.
You can tell by the way she’s groaning it’s hard for her.
And so you make it easy.
Your lips move down from her neck to her breasts. You circle each nipple once, then twice, before you’re taking her in your mouth, curling your arms around each of her thighs.
“Baby,” Tara murmurs, “Baby, your stomach-“
You release her nipple with a wet pop and a frown.
“I’m fine, babe.” You say, and it’s true.
It aches, slightly, but it always does nowadays. No matter what you’re doing.
And if it’s her you’re doing, at least the ache is dampened by the forest fire of arousal surging through your veins.
You return to your pilgrimage down her body.
Your lips graze her belly-button, your tongue slips down over the jut of her hips to the crest of her thighs.
She sighs, seemingly satisfied as you slip down further. Moving your body to settle nicely in between her legs.
Then, she tilts her head up, biting her lip.
Her eyes are hesitant, though encompassed with want.
“Tell me if it hurts,” She says, “Tell me and we can stop. Or…re-adjust.”
You nod, impatient.
“Alright babe, I will,” You say, raising an eyebrow, “Can I go down on you now?”
Her cheeks flush red with arousal.
“Please.” She whispers.
She’s beautiful, as ever.
You press your lips against the soft skin of her inner thighs, grazing your lips just gently. You use your tongue to work your way inwards.
Your breath catches in your throat the moment you taste her. Wet, syrupy, bittersweet goodness.
You lick it up, greedy for more. You press your lips to her folds, use your hands to spread her open for you. You lose control of your tongue.
One minute you’re ready to tease, the next, you’ve worked yourself up too much.
Your tongue moves hot across her folds and then down to her entrance. Your top lip brushes her clit and she sings.
A low moan that vibrates through the room.
A moan that indicates it’s been far too long since you’ve touched her like this.
You apologize with your mouth.
Low strokes of your tongue at her entrance. The quiet murmur of your own moan as your tongue moves up to circle her clit.
Lazy, slow, movements.
Then fast.
Like you’re changing your own mind too quickly.
You settle for writing words with your tongue.
babygirl, is what you spell out against her clit.
Your name. Her name. You connect them with a heart.
And then: mine.
Tara lets out a quiet moan as you take her clit between your lips. Sucking gently until her thighs are gripping like iron bars around the side of your head and her nails against your scalp bruise.
You give up on using the alphabet.
You slip two fingers inside her, sighing as she encases you. She’s tight and wet and begging for more.
You give it to her.
Curl your fingers up in just the right way. Lap your tongue over her clit just the way she likes.
And then she’s gasping as she tightens around you. She cries your name in a breathy moan as she cums hard around your fingers and mouth.
It’s always over too quickly, you think briefly as you reluctantly slip out of her. You need to learn patience. You need to learn how to tease.
But there’s something about her, and you don’t know how she does it. You just have to give her what she wants.
She lets out a happy sigh as you climb up her body and press your lips to her forehead.
She’s still a moment, but you know better. She recovers quickly.
In less than a minute she’s shifting.
You groan as your back hits the mattress.
Her hands slip down to your thighs, gripping you like she has an agenda. And she does. You know it by heart.
First, the gentle touch of her lips against your neck.
Then she’s sliding your underwear down your legs.
She kisses your lips, slips her tongue into your mouth for only a moment. And then she’s trailing kisses down your body.
Your chest. Your breasts.
She pays special attention to your nipples. Her eyes locking with yours as she sucks, ever so gently.
Your body feels hot.
You grip her face, holding her in place.
And then she’s nudging out of your grip, dipping down to press her lips to your navel.
She doesn’t kiss your scar, but you can tell she wants to.
She looks up at you, eyes wide and vulnerable as she squeezes your hips.
“You’re beautiful.” She murmurs. She ducks down and presses a kiss to the top of your inner thigh, “You’re perfect. My perfect girl.”
“Tara,” You say, voice a little gravelly, “Baby, please.”
She doesn’t make you wait.
One moment she’s pressing her lips to your thigh. The next, she’s dipping down between your legs. You lean back onto the pillows with a sigh.
Her lips graze.
She kisses your inner thigh.
Drags her tongue over your entrance and you gasp.
Then, her lips are on your clit.
You moan as she snakes a hand around your waist. The other slips between your legs. She teases for only a moment before she’s slipping her fingers inside you. You gasp at the sudden intrusion.
It’s not as though you’re not ready for it.
You’re so wet you’d give her a snorkel if she wasn’t such an experienced sailor.
But she rides your high seas like it’s her full time job.
Lips on your clit, fingers working in and out. She squeezes your hip with her free hand. Her talented mouth is like fire. Dancing around just where you need it most.
You close your eyes and let out a low moan.
She’s being careful.
Gentle.
Loving you like she doesn’t want to hurt you.
You take back the impatience. You take back the need for more, more, more.
Your sweet, loving girlfriend is all you need.
Gentle mouth. Careful tongue.
Her between your legs, working you into oblivion like sex is just a vehicle to express how deeply she loves you.
“Tara.”
You cum with her name on your lips. Her mouth fused around your lips. You cum feeling safe and wanted and needed.
And when she’s done, she climbs back up your body and presses the softest kiss to your lips.
Nestles herself with her head in your chest. Right next to your heartbeat.
Where she should be.
You close your eyes once more.
Thread your fingers through her hair. Press the softest of kisses to her forehead.
And then she looks up at you, her pretty brown eyes shimmering.
“Love you.” She murmurs. She punctuates her words with a kiss.
Your chest is heaving. You allow yourself the moment. Body thrumming with your orgasm, the love of your life pressed tight to your side.
Tara curls into you. She waits a moment, then looks over at you,
“I’m going to be better for you,” She murmurs, “I’ve put you through hell, baby, and I know that. But it all ends now.”
You frown.
“I’m in heaven with you, no matter what you’ve done,” You say, after a quiet moment, “After what we’ve both done. Right or wrong, I love you. And you love me. And that’s all that matters.”
Tara tilts her head to yours.
She takes your lips in a long, searing kiss.
She says what she can’t with words.
You say it too.
And when you pull back, you know she understands.
She’s yours.
And you are undeniably, irrefutably, entirely:
All hers. 
763 notes · View notes
exoticb-utters · 1 month
Note
Hello!
So I saw that your requests were open, and would like to ask for a Hank McCoy (Wolverine and the X-Men) x Reader short story, if that isn't too much trouble. If that's not on the table, I'm sorry for bothering you.
YES OFC, I haven’t been writing much, and instead, I’ve been posting a lot more art so it’s about time I get back in touch with my roots 🙏🏽 (sorry this took me forever omg) pls enjoy 😘
Confessions
Hank x Mutant Reader Word Count: 2.7k Words
Mutant Power: Water Manipulation
You’ve been a member of the X-men for the last 3 years. Yes, that’s almost 3 years you’ve had a crush on Henry McCoy. 
I mean, how could you not? He was so sweet, and always put aside time for you whenever you needed it. He’s also, like, insanely hot…
While you do have a huge soft spot for Hank, everyone had given you a warm welcome when you joined of course, this team was your family. More of a family than your parents; who called you a freak for doing ‘tricks’ with their drinks.
You’d make frequent trips to the lab, knowing all too well there would be a big blue hermit waiting for you. As you did this, Hank could never bring himself to admit the embarrassing fact- but your frequent visits were the highlights of his day.
The rest of the team were amazing family to him of course, but no one checked in or visited Hank as often as you did.
Most of the time anyone usually ever came down was if they needed something; nothing this personal. It was new, but it was nice for a change. 
Your jokes with him never got old, and your smile that came with it could only make it better. The willingness you had to sit around and let him rant about the latest experiment that had him losing sleep, to even offer a hand with whatever he was struggling with. Your innocent praises glorifying how smart he was had him hiding his growing blush by looking behind a microscope. 
“I’m afraid blue blushes too, my dear…” He would joke, causing you to smile and chuckle. Ugh who loves a hot, funny nerd. You’d chuckle to yourself. 
Oh who was he kidding, Hank was head over heels. While he tries to use his brain to rationally sugar coat things, he knew he was helpless. 
Your attention to detail was incredible, you somehow remember all of his favorite things without fail. You were just so…thoughtful. 
He couldn’t help but feel a bit selfish, wanting more than your visits down to his lab, the long talks, your presence. He was going crazy.
Then, every night you’d find yourself laying awake in your thoughts, knowing he couldn’t possibly feel the same.
You’d never put your friendship on the line for something so…selfish. 
The thought ate away at your conscious, the numbing sound of your fan tuned out by your busy mind. You sigh, rolling over to your side while pulling your blanket with you. 
You don’t know why you were like this.
You and Hank are…friends. Which is fine- even though it hurts. You are fine with it, and you’ve been fine for the past 3 years.
…for the most part anyway. 
♡ ♡ ♡
You were now hanging out with Hank in his lab, legs dangling over the edge as you talked to each other. Something about a new opera showing happening in town.
Suddenly, you hear Xavier telepathically call for the rest of the X-Men to meet him in the control room, suited up. Must be a mission.
You were informed the Jaggernaut had escaped custody, again.
All X-Men that were on stand-by were now assigned on this task. The team consisted of you, Hank, Cyclops, Jean, Wolverine, Nightcrawler, and of course Storm. Stacked team if you say so yourself.
Everyone was in the Blackbird with the sole goal of neutralizing the Jaggernaut before he caused severe harm. 
Cyclops was put in charge, giving direct orders as he looked to you and Ororo. “I need you and Storm to direct him towards us, we need to keep him separated from civilians. Meaning I need a tall wall of water, Storm you freeze it making sure he won’t be able to get through.” 
You both looked to one another with nod. Scott then turns around to Hank who was piloting the jet. “Hank you go with them and watch from above and make sure things don’t get to out of hand. If they do we need your strength to counter-attack.” 
Hank replies with a “on it” before tilting the jet to left, bringing the stealth instrument closer to the designated location. 
“Logan you’re taking the wheel while those three get dropped down. Everyone else is with me.” Scott said finally while Hank clicked some buttons before switching with Logan. The bottom hatch of the plane opened up, allowing you, Storm, and Beast to exit. 
Storm flew to her position in the air, leaving you and Hank free falling towards the ground. Hank turned to look at you expectantly, blue hair blowing wildly in the wind. 
“Yeah, yeah, I got it.” You chuckle. You outstretched your arms towards a nearby pond you spotted earlier. Pulling your hands back to your chest in a stream-like manner, a large funnel of water shot out towards you and Hank. 
You grabbed Hank’s arm as the funnel reached you, changing the water into a shape similar to a slide with your free hand. You surfed down the water, holding onto Hank making sure he kept up- and knowing him, it was also preventing him from falling off.
As you neared the ground, you spun the water into a wide spiral to slow down your momentum for an easy landing. 
“I’m still impressed you can do that with your hands.” Hank comments as you reach the ground, earning an amused huff from you. “Well it took some practice,” You trail off, your eyes now looking at his crazy wind blown hair. 
“Actually, I’m more impressed your hair can take that shape…” You snort, biting on ur fist to hold in your laugh. It looked like he had an insane cowlick…well, maybe if the cow had 4 tongues.
“…what?” He said before quickly bringing up a hand to his hair. While he was busy fixing his crazed hair, you spot Storm flying over.
“I’ve located the Juggernaut, he’s down the street!” She briefly informs you before taking off, flying further down the street. 
“Right right, back to business.” You say, waving an arm around yourself to recollect your water. Hank takes off, leaping after Ororo as you ride your stream of water. 
You hear loud commotion around your surroundings the further you went, hopefully you arrived in time. You spot the Juggernaut on the street, wildly flipping cars as if he were in a mad rampage. One was now launched and flying in midair- towards you, specifically.  
You expertly weave around it, spinning upside down in doing so. Before he can flip anymore cars you jump, using all surrounding water to form a wall as Scott instructed. 
You hear a crack of thunder overhead as you land, the air chilling and the clouds growing darker. With a strong gust of wind, the walls you made froze over. You see Storm fly into view along with the rest of the X-Men behind you.
Beast jumps onto a light post, swinging on the end before propelling himself onto the large wall of ice.
The Juggernaut’s actions were now solely limited to facing the X-Men head on. Realizing this, he began charging with full force towards the rest of the team.
“Get his helmet off!!” Cyclops orders before bringing two fingers to his visor, firing off his laser beams.
Night Crawler bamfs around the brute, landing on his shoulders for brief moments, attempting to unlatch the dome.
You shape your water into a whip, ready to attack if the villain closes in. You see Storm raise her hands, calling down thunder as lightning begins to target the Jaggernaut.
You even see Jean pressing her temple with two fingers, using her telepathy with the other outstretched hand to slow down the pursuer.
He wavered just barely under her prowess, the strong bolts only slowing him down slightly before Wolverine decides it’s time he steps in.
With a growl, Logan leaps towards him with his adimantium claws extended before being swatted away by the Juggernaut’s large hand.
Not a moment later he grabs onto Nightcrawler and tosses him aside as well, throwing him on top of Wolverine.
The X-Men were losing options, and fast.
You had to do something.
You swing your water whip from underneath the Juggernaught before quickly whipping it back against his head, effectively tripping him and causing him to topple toward.
Before he could regain his footing completely, you call back all your water to blast him with as much force as you could muster.
And…It was working! He was regressing in distance.
…Until he took a step.
And then another.
And another.
It wasn't long before he began fully charging toward you.
Your concentrated expression quickly fell to one filled with fear and disbelief. “Watch out!” You heard Jean, Scott, and Cyclops warn in unison.
Their cries were all in vain, a large hand splashing out of the water had taken hold of your face. You felt your feet lift off the ground as you were directly dangling in the air, at the mercy of an unstoppable force. In this position, the Jaggernaught could easily crush your skull if he so pleased.
“I will find Xavier. And I will make him pay.” The brute speaks as his grip on your head steadily tightens, your chest burning as you screamed in sheer horror at the increasing pressure.
From above, Hank was almost hesitant to give away his position as the others before you attacked- he knew they could hold their own. But watching you face the Juggernaught head-on…Seeing how your life was in such jeopardy, hearing your screams, Hank had no second thoughts about intervening and saving you.
With a distant roar, you hear Beast come down on the Juggernaut. He releases you, but at the cost of you falling; and of course- hitting your head on the pavement.
Your head began pounding, ears ringing as the corners of your vision grew fuzzy with dark spots. All you could see was a flurry of blue viciously wrestling with a large brownish blob. More figures rushed into the picture before a redhead precluded your vision, concern written all over her face.
“Stay with me! Don’t close your eyes and just listen to my voice…“ Her words began to fade out as the black dots in your vision clouded the world around you.
Your head rolled to the side, your closing eyes finding the blue figure before your heavy eyelids inevitably shut.
Hank.
♡ ♡ ♡
You slowly awoke to a steady beeping of a monitor nearby, your eyes softly fluttering open. Looking up to the ceiling, you recognized it as the flat cement ceiling of Hank’s Lab.
Before you could get up, you felt the intense throbbing pain coming from the back of your head. Had you really hit your head that hard?
Well if it had knocked you clean out it must’ve been…
“You’re awake!” You hear a familiar voice call out to your right. It wasn’t long before a blue face came into view, blocking the blinding lights of the overhead fluorescent lights.
“How are you feeling?!?” Your vision slowly focused in on the figure in front of you. “Good…I think.” You slowly sit up, rubbing the back of your head tenderly.
You notice you had an IV inserted into your right forearm. Without another thought you removed it, ready to go…to wherever you were needed.
“Woah, there- you should slow down it’s been…a bit and you're still recovering.” Hank warns, grabbing your wrist to keep you from moving any further.
You looked to his face…he was worried??? “Hank, I’m fine! See?” You said reassuringly; though, Hank himself didn’t find himself too convinced.
“Hey, what are you so worried about?” You ask, brows drawn together hoping to get a straight answer out of him.
He was worried about you, obviously. You suffered several traumatic head injuries within a short span of time! If you had not been a human…he didn’t even want to think of the possible outcomes of that situation.
Hank sighed heavily, organizing his racing thoughts. “I thought I’d lost you.” He managed to drag out.
Huh?
Scared??
That he lost...YOU?!?
“Hank, I think I’ve suffered greater injuries. You should know this.” You say with a small laugh before quickly stopping, his solemn expression instantly killing your attempt to lighten the mood.
His large hands grab your wrists firmly. “You have been out for a month.” His words shook you, so much you found yourself shaking your head in disbelief. You hadn’t been out for longer than a day, right?
Hank must’ve sensed your reluctancy to believe your current situation because he started again. “You suffered several fractures to your skull, luckily, nothing broken or opposing threats to your brain. Unfortunately the stress your skull took on added with the hard contact of the ground basically split your head open.” He explained, running a hand down his tired face.
You hadn’t realized this had happened. “But I’m…I’m okay now, aren’t I?” You ask hesitantly, raising a hand up carefully to the back of your head. You felt stitches, running up your skull. Your stomach dropped.
“I performed an emergency medical procedure…which I won’t go into details with you so soon…” He sighed heavily once again, plopping down in his wheeled office chair.
“I hadn’t realized…” You quietly trailed off while fidgeting with your fingers out of nervous habit.
Hadn’t realized what? How bad the situation was? How worried the other X-Men must be? How much Hank went through to make sure you were well?!?
“Please, it isn’t your fault. If anything, this situation has made me realize something…” Now it was Hank’s turn to dramatically pause, his head in his large, blue hands.
“What? What is it?” You ask nervously, fearing your health was in critical condition at this point.
He grabbed you by the shoulders once again, looking into your eyes deeply, “Because…because I fear I’m falling in love with you.”
You stared in utter shock. Had you heard him correctly? He feels the same way?!?
“I-I want to come home to you, to kiss you like it’s been eons since I last saw your face. I need you safe, I don’t know how I’ll live with myself if you aren’t-“ You didn’t need to hear anymore. 
You grabbed him by his lab coat, pulling him into you as your lips pressed together in a flurry of passion.
He held onto you, hungrily chasing after your lips as he poured all the love he’d helplessly held in for so long.
Your hands slowly slid up his broad chest and towards his neck, finding themselves tangled in his soft hair. “Hank” You sighed against his lips, the kiss ripping all oxygen from your lungs and leaving you breathless in the process.
He groans into your mouth in response, his tongue running against your bottom lip to beg for access.
Your heated ‘session’ was abruptly cut short by the lab door sliding open. Hank shot up, nearly taking a tumble trying to remove himself from you- to avoid any suspicion of previous actions of course.
Though, the scene didn’t look too convincing; seeing how Hank’s glasses laid crooked on his face and his hair was well tussled. You had to cover your giggle at his appearance.
It was Morph, Cyclops, and Logan. They all start laughing, causing the rest of the X-men to come in, groaning in defeat.
“Woah, woah- we’re all of you just standing outside the door?!?” Hank exclaimed.
“Pay up, daddy’s waiting.” Logan holds out a hand expectantly towards the other X-Men, a smirk displayed across his face while completely ignoring Hank.
“I knew I should’ve bet with Logan.” Rogue mumbles, fishing out money from her pockets along with the rest of the team.
Oh yes. This was only the beginning of a long, beautiful (and heavily teased) relationship with Hank.
I hope you enjoyed this cute little one-shot! ;)
If you want more like this or want something written, please hit up my ask box! Requests are always open 💕 Until next time🫡🫡
-Mae
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lemonlover1110 · 1 year
Text
𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬
Satoru Gojo
[Chapter 2] Time
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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader
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Time is confusing, and you realize so when you stand in front of the Gojo estate after four years of not coming anywhere near it. It feels like forever the last time you stood right in front of the main entrance, but time feels like it’s going so fast. As you stand in front of the door, you feel a lump in your throat. Your hands are shaking, and you’re trying your best to calm yourself down before bringing your hand to ring the doorbell. You got past the front gate– You definitely have to go through with this now.
Last time you heard from Satoru was when he ended things with you. You remember foolishly waiting for him to call again, but he never did. When you tried to contact him, his number changed. And the last time you stood in front of this door, you were hiding the fact that you were five months pregnant. You came to share the news with Satoru because he deserved to know that you were carrying his child, even if he didn’t want anything to do with you. But his mother opened the door only to announce to you that he had gotten married. You can recall the exact words she told you,
“He went on a vacation before going back to school. He decided he wanted to go gamble in Vegas and he met someone there, and impulsively decided to get married. Not that I have to explain anything to you.”
It didn’t make sense at all, but your pregnancy hormones at the time made you bawl your eyes out. She shut the door right in your face, something that you didn’t understand why. She never came to the door to greet anyone, it was as if she knew you were there and chose to open the door to humiliate you. 
There was a big wedding ceremony in the following months, right on Satoru’s birthday. The same day your son decided to make his big entrance, even though he wasn’t due until January. Looking back at it now, you’re so grateful your son came the day he did because otherwise you would’ve been bawling your eyes out as videos of his wedding came out, but luckily you were busy with your newborn. When he came into your life, you vowed to never go near the family again but–
Sadly, things have changed. 
You sigh before you ring the doorbell, you’ll have to do it eventually and standing outside the door won’t do anything to help your case. Just as expected, within seconds, the door opens. It’s not Mrs. Gojo like that last time you were here, that woman never opens the door. A familiar face opens the door, a woman that worked alongside your mother for years, before your mother quit. The woman smiles at you before she asks,
“What are you doing here?”
“I have to talk to Mrs. Gojo. It’s urgent.” You stumble over your words, your nerves getting the best of you. All the way here you practiced what you were going to say, but you’re still not ready. You’re not even close to being ready.
“Is it about a job?” She asks and you nod in response. She ends up sighing before saying, “We’re currently not hiring.”
“I know– I just have to talk to her. It’s urgent. Please…” You respond before she can shut the door in your face. You know the woman in front of you adores you, after all, she watched you grow up. But she won’t hesitate to shut the door in your face because Mrs. Gojo doesn’t like beggars, and Mrs. Gojo somehow knows everything that goes on in the estate. “I just need a minute of her time.”
“I can’t risk it– I’m sorry–” She begins and you hear from inside her voice as she asks,
“What’s going on there? Who is it?” And you hear her heels hitting the marble floor as she walks over to the door. You both freeze as you wait for her to get there. She scrunches her nose up in disgust when she sees you. She crosses her arms and asks, “What do you need? If it’s about your mother, I’m not taking her back.”
“It’s about a job for me–” You’re about to get cut off by her slamming the door shut, the same way she did four years ago. But you stop it. You manage to stop it before the door completely closes. “It’s in your best interest if we talk.”
“I doubt it.” She responds. Before she can actually shut the door in your face, you’re forced to confess,
“I had a son almost four years ago and he’s Satoru’s son. It’s in your best interest to help me out.” You have to blurt out, and she freezes. She furrows her eyebrows and thinks about your words for what feels like forever. You reach into your back pocket to pull out your phone and look for pictures of your son.
“How would I know that you’re not lying?” She finally asks, and you show her the picture of your son, the boy who is nearly identical to Satoru. She stares at the picture, studying every feature of the young boy before ordering, “Come inside. We have to talk this over.”
You do as she says and you walk inside, following her around the house until you finally reach her office. She walks over to her chair and takes a seat, sighing heavily before she says, “We’re going to do a DNA test before anything. I don’t know who you’ve been messing around with.”
“Of course.” You answer because you don’t know what else to say.
“We’re not hiring anywhere...” She replies. However, she won’t worry too much about it until DNA results tell her that your child is her grandson– But that child is clearly Satoru’s son. As much as she’d like to deny it, that’s her grandson. At least he looks the part. “I’ll figure out a job for you if it turns out that he’s my grandson– If he’s not, I’ll make your life miserable for coming to my house and lying to my face.”
“There’s no need to worry, ma’am. It’s impossible for Ren to be someone else’s child.” You respond. She silently stares at you, trying to remember the timeline of everything.
“How old is Ren?” She asks. 
“He turns four on December 7.” You answer, her eyebrows raising when she hears the same birthday as her son. She sucks her bottom lip between her teeth before she shakes her head disapprovingly.
“There’s too many similarities.”
“Well life is funny, isn’t it?” You reply which makes her roll her eyes. You awkwardly stand around the office, looking at the pictures that she has of her son– None of her late husband. That marriage was hardly real. You remember being awakened one too many times to Mr. Gojo sneaking around with servants. “I just need a job for a bit. Until I find something that pays well.”
“A personal assistant. You can be my personal assistant, I’ve been meaning to get one.” She responds, and you furrow your eyebrows in confusion. She has at least five servants that do every job that a personal assistant does. You also can’t complain about it.
“What would my job entail?” You question and she shakes her head.
“Give me your contact information and we’ll stay in touch.”
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Everything is sorted out within a week. To no surprise, your son is Satoru’s biological child, and with that information, Mrs. Gojo plans everything. You’ll be her personal assistant, which is pretty much like working as her maid but with a better job title, and a couple extra responsibilities. She has additional rules as well.
The first rule is to not attempt to contact her son and tell him the truth about Ren. Satoru must stay in the dark about every single detail, which isn’t too hard since he’s currently living in a different country with his wife. The second rule– The one that you were most unhappy about was the fact that she wanted you to move into the home. She wanted to be closer to her grandson, and the only apparent way was to make you move into the place with her.
Unlike other workers, you got a room in the main house and your son did as well. Still, you aren’t too comfortable with the arrangement.
The final rule is to follow the schedule she gives you. To follow her every order. You don’t know what’ll happen if you ever choose to defy her, and you choose not to find out. Knowing her, you’re surprised that she didn’t try to take your son away from you. You’re grateful that she didn’t, even when you came to her accepting that’d possibly happen. You’d be fine knowing that your son would grow up having the best opportunities.
You’re also grateful that she didn’t question your situation much. You just have to make ends meet, especially since your mother is no longer working due to health related issues.
It’s just a temporary arrangement. Even though it seems like it’ll be hard to leave, mainly because your son asks,
“Is this my room, mommy?” Ren looks around the room with big eyes. The room is the size of the apartment you were living in, and not only that but it’s decorated for a kid his age. You already know that the play room is filled with new toys for him to play with.
“It is, honey.” You respond, patting his snow-white hair. You’re smiling at him while he walks around the room. “Baby, remember, this is all thanks to your other granny. When we see her, you’ll thank her for it.”
“Okay.” He answers. He has to check out every corner of the room because otherwise he might miss a very important detail. “Who is my other granny?”
“You two haven’t met yet. You’ll meet her soon.” You reply. The young boy looks up at the wall where he sees a TV, and he gasps.
“Is that mine, mommy?” He asks excitedly, and you end up nodding.
“But we’re still going to have the same rules, Ren. You’ll have a limit.” You say, and he nods his little head in response. You doubt he’ll listen to you. Someone will be watching over him, so you’ll ensure that he has a screen time limit. “Alright, baby, when you’re done seeing your new room, we have to go see your granny. She’s in her office.”
“Ok. I’m finished.” He walks over to you and his hand grips onto your pants as you both exit the room. When you’re in the hallway, you pick him up from the floor and you walk to Mrs. Gojo’s office. You knock on the door, and you patiently wait for her to say something. When there’s no response within thirty seconds, your son gently knocks on the door again.
“Come in!” You both hear, and you can tell from her tone of voice that the woman is irritated. You’re preparing your apology in your head while you step into the office. When you enter the place, you put Ren down on the floor. Her eyes are glued on your son while he’s looking around the place.
“Ren, that’s your grandmother.” You inform him and he looks at her. He slowly blinks as he watches her. She stands up and begins to step toward him, since meeting her grandson while she’s sitting down doesn’t seem like the best way to do things. 
“Hi Ren.” She tries to smile at the almost-four-year-old. He tilts his head as he looks up at her. He’s just staring at her until he remembers your words of thanking his other granny for the room. He wraps his arms around her leg before he mutters,
“Thank you for the room, grammy.” 
“Oh it was no problem, Ren.” She answers, crouching down to look at him eye-to-eye. Her finger moves his hair to get it out of his face, a genuine smile coming to her face as she looks at him. He looks so much like Satoru, and her body fills up with regret for not being around Satoru as much when he was Ren’s age. “Did you already have breakfast? I’m about to go get something to eat, if you’d like to join me.”
“Can I go, mommy?” He looks at you, and you nod in response with a smile on your lips. She already gave you a list of all the things she wants done, and if you don’t start soon you won’t be able to accomplish all of them. She stands up.
“Let’s go, Ren.” 
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You had plans of leaving the Gojo estate within three months. You thought that was all the time you needed to find a different job and be able to make ends meet– But not having to pay rent, having all food paid for, and having your boss nearly pay for everything you need really makes every job unsatisfactory. You only have to send your mother money, which is extra money that Mrs. Gojo includes in your salary. She’s understanding, even if she’s overworking you. The past six months that you’ve been working with her, you’ve only had two days off.
You’re out the door by six every morning, fulfilling every whim that your boss has. You don’t get to see your son again till the evening, occasionally when you have to stop by the house, you see him playing around, and of course someone is always following him around. Mrs. Gojo might not like you in the slightest but Ren is the apple of her eye; although she won’t show it affectionately. She won’t let him go unsupervised for even one moment, which you find strange considering she was never overprotective over Satoru.
“Mrs. Gojo, you wanted to speak with me?” You find her in the kitchen, eating a quick snack before continuing with her day, one that isn’t too busy since everyone else takes care of her duties. You’re not too worried about the fact that she suddenly called you since the woman nearly calls you a hundred times per day. 
“Yes.” She clears her throat and takes a sip of water before she speaks again. “A new position opened up at the company. Our chief marketing officer’s assistant quit, and I thought about how you need a job, so I told Ms. Ieiri that I’d get someone for her.”
“Oh… That’s so nice, but I already have a job.” You tell her, a bit confused. She furrows her eyebrows and then shakes her head. 
“You can juggle both jobs, can’t you? It’s not like you do much around here… But I guess if you’re struggling I can give some of your tasks to other workers.” She responds. She takes another sip of water before she casually shares, “You and Ren are moving to an apartment I have nearby for a while. Satoru is finally taking over, and he and his wife will be staying here for a couple of weeks.”
“Oh–” You freeze in your spot. A million memories flash through your head, and you can’t come up with any words. “Alright.”
“You’re still going to follow your morning routine here. I hope that you can handle seeing him without confessing our little secret.” 
“Everything– Everything is going to be fine.” You have to pause for a moment then you’re stumbling over your words. You didn’t know what you were expecting. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
“Right.” She slowly nods as she stares you down. As you stand in front of her, you question why she wants to have a relationship with her grandson, but she won’t let her son have that kind of connection. “I need you to pick something else for me– Well, for Ren.”
“Of course, ma’am. You can text me the details.”
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You prepare yourself for the worst. To see Satoru again and pretend like everything is just fine. You’re also preparing yourself to have a second job– To become an assistant even though you’ve had no previous experience and aren’t prepared for the job. You aren’t sure what’s expected from you but you’re sure that you’ll figure it out.
Twenty minutes away from the Gojo estate is where Mrs. Gojo’s apartment is. It’s a luxurious apartment, one that you should’ve been expecting but for some dumb reason you were expecting a run down place. Just like in her home, she made sure that a room was decorated for her grandson, and she made sure he’d have all the possible toys. She isn’t too affectionate with him but she demonstrates her love through everything she buys.
“Hey, Mrs. Gojo. The nanny you sent isn’t here yet and Ren just threw up so I won’t make it there this morning– Ms. Ieiri just texted me as well. She expects me to be on time since it’s my first day.” You leave the message on her phone, hoping that the woman will be somewhat understanding of the situation. You look at the time, and you’re already way too late.
You have no option but to change Ren into some other clothes, grab a bag with some items for him, and walk out of the door with him in your arms. Luckily enough for you, you have your own car that was gifted to you by the grandmother of your son. You’re able to get to your workplace within minutes, which wouldn’t have been possible if you had taken public transportation.
You exit the car, holding your son in your arms. You’re speedwalking to the elevator of the building while Ren is trying to talk to you about dinosaurs– Or chickens, you aren’t really listening. When you’re in the elevator, you put Ren down to check your phone. You don’t find any messages or missed calls, which relieves you but stresses you out at the same time.
You keep pressing the button for the elevator to close faster, but it won’t. It feels like an eternity for the doors to close, and just as the doors are about to meet, a hand stops the doors. Your blood begins to boil, mad at the universe for making this day so terrible for you. What makes matters worse is when you hear the familiar voice.
“I told you we’d make it in time, love.” And it makes you push Ren into a corner and hide him behind you. Your hand goes behind you to go over his mouth, stopping him from making a sound. 
“Are you sure your mother is going to be here, Satoru? Shouldn’t we have gone to her house?” A tall woman with long black hair enters the elevator. You don’t mean to stare at her and observe her, but it’s hard not to since you want to look at the woman that Satoru fell in love with. He enters right after her, and neither of them notice you, which you’re thankful for since you can’t tear your eyes away.
“She’s probably already working. She’s always busy.” Satoru says. They keep talking and your brain doesn’t process the conversation. You’re too busy wondering too much about many occurrences from your past. You’re also trying to make sure Ren isn’t visible or audible.
“Why is that lady staring at us?” His wife tries to whisper, but you hear it loud and clear. You try to look away before Satoru slightly turns his head to look at you, but you can’t. He sees you, and you make eye contact.
You look at each other for a moment, although time feels infinite. You both look to see how time has physically changed you, and you hate to see him the same. But when he looks at you, he can tell that you’re tired.
He opens his mouth slightly to speak, but he chooses to stay silent. You end up tearing your eyes away, while Satoru chooses to exit the elevator the moment it opens.
Luckily for you, this floor isn’t your stop.
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