#like imagine all that time they didn’t see each other

[cressidagrey]

Such A Mystery - Part 9

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Colette Leclerc (Original Character)

Summary:

Max Verstappen fell in love at the ripe old age of 12 and never looked back.

Colette Leclerc really regrets posting that particular Taylor Swift Lyric to her private Instagram account, because it made George Russell go insane.  

The rest of the world has absolutely no idea that the Dutch Lion and Charles Leclerc’s twin sister have been a couple for 15 years and are expecting a baby. 

Warnings: 

Pregnancy, Mention of multiple miscarriages, Pregnancy complications, George Russell Bashing (he's probably really nice in real life but in this, he's the bad guy, sorry), Jos Verstappen, We have apparently now reached the time where I also bash Ferrari. I am sure they are super nice in real life too. They are not in this.

Author Notes: Huge thanks to @llirawolf for holding my hand through this. Chapter 8 of...who knows.

It felt like forever. He knew it wasn't. It must have been minutes until the car door was ripped open and Charles slipped in right next to him.

It wasn’t until the doors were slammed shut behind Charles that Max dared to look at the Monégasque.

His heart skipped a beat at the sight. Charles was still in his racing suit just as him, the suit itself streaked with sweat.

The moment the car door closed, the car started riving.

"Merde," Charles cursed. Max could only agree. "I am sorry, that it took this long."

Max gave a sharp, jerky shake of his head. "You don’t have to apologize," he somehow managed to get the words out. "I’m just..." he trailed off, a shaky exhale escaping him. "How could you make it here so fast?" he asked, casting a quick glance in his friend’s direction.

Charles snorted. "Your press officer had a shouting match with Ferrari's,“ he said simply.

If Max wasn’t so focused on not completely losing it, he might’ve been amused with the mental image. But at the moment, he could only shake his head.

Next to him, Charles let out a sigh. "Are you alright?" he asked quietly.

"No. You?" he gave back.

"I don't have a bad feeling," Charles said quietly. “Not worse than it has been for days at least.”

Twin Telepathy was apparently a thing as far as Charles and Colette were concerned. 

Quite frankly, till this day, it still weirded Max out. They just seemed to know when the other one wasn't feeling well. 95% of the time, they got sick at the same time. They communicated more easily with each other than with anyone else, and regardless of what game they played...they needed to be put on opposite teams, because otherwise nobody had a chance against them.

Max was well aware of Colette and Charles' strange connection. Even if he didn’t fully understand it. They both had some sort of sixth sense when it came to the other one, and it sometimes felt like they were talking in secret code.

"What’s it telling you right now?" he asked, his voice barely above a rough whisper.

Charles turned to him fully at that, and Max saw the way his eyes swept over him, taking in every aspect of his appearance.

Max could only imagine what Charles was seeing. He felt like a walking wreck, and there was no doubt his appearance was mirroring that.

"Colette is in pain," Charles finally said, his voice strangely quiet. "She’s scared."

That answer felt like somebody shoved a knife into Max’s stomach. He inhaled sharply, the breath catching in his throat. “Of course, she is,” he hissed through clenched teeth.

Charles seemed to sense what he was thinking, even without being telepathically connected through whatever the hell Colette and him had going on. The Monégasque reached out and took a firmer hold of his hand, the grip almost crushing.

"Don’t," Charles said firmly, his voice leaving no room for arguments. "Don’t go there. We’re gonna get to her as fast as we can."

There was a brief moment of silence, as Max tried to collect himself. He focused all his attention on the pressure of Charles' hand on his, and somehow, it actually helped.

"I feel so goddamn useless," he finally admitted, his voice rough with emotion. "I want to be with her."

"You want to try calling her before we are in the air?" Charles suggested.

That was not a bad idea, not at all. Max let out a low and slightly shaky exhale, swallowing hard. “Yeah,” he nodded. “Yeah, I…” he had to stop and clear his throat. “Yeah, I’ll try to call her.”

His hands were shaking when he pulled out his phone out of the backpack that somebody had handed off to him, already packed. Regardless of all the drama that had gone on in the RedBull garage during the year… if it really mattered, the people in there pulled off minor miracles.

Within minutes, his entire day - hell, his entire week - had been packed for him, with all the essentials of clothes and everything else he would need.

He had almost forgotten about the phone in his shaking hands, but now he just stared at the screen for a moment. His fingers were trembling so badly that just unlocking the phone was a challenge in itself.

Jimmy and Sassy were on his lockscreen...a picture that Colette had once sent him when he had been away for one of his races...the two of them laying on top of her on their couch...

Every other time Max saw the photo, it made his heart do a little funny jump. Now though, it made his chest ache. It felt like a sharp stabbing pain, and for a moment, he just sat there and stared at the picture.

Then he called her.

It rang. And it rang, and it rang again. With each passing second, that horrible knot in his stomach tightened a little more. With every ring of the bell, it got harder to breathe.

Finally, to Max’s immense and enormous relief, the line connected.

"Hey, Maxie. I put you on speaker," Victoria's voice came over the phone, sounding surprisingly calm.

A shiver of something resembling dread ran through Max, at the sound of Victoria’s voice. But he pushed past the feeling.

His thoughts were once again running wild - was it a bad sign that Colette wasn’t the one speaking to him? Or was he just overreacting..?

“Hey,” he forced the word out past the lump in his throat. "How are you feeling?" he asked, pleading for Colette's voice. Was it selfish that he just wanted to hear her tell him that everything was going to be okay?

"Better now," Colette's voice came, sounding slightly hoarse.

The words were like a shot of adrenaline, and for a moment, Max actually felt a little lightheaded. “Liefje.” He closed his eyes, just hearing her voice sending another wave of relief through him. “Are you okay? How is Bébé?”

"Bébé has decided that they would rather be born today, so I would suggest you hurry up," Victoria said drily.

"Seems like the kid already inherited Max's need for speed," Charles quipped. "How are you doing, Coco?"

"I'm good," Colette's voice replied, and Max could only imagine the eye-roll that was currently happening. He knew his girlfriend, and he had no doubt that she had been glaring at Victoria ever since the phone was put on speaker.

"Where are you?" she asked, her voice suddenly turning much softer. "You're coming, right?"

"Coming," he assured her, his heart aching. "We're coming, I promise."

"I know. I’m not worried." She sounded like she meant it, but Max could easily imagine the anxiety in her eyes.

"You'd better not worry," Charles said, and then added, "I’m keeping him from doing anything dumb."

Max shot Charles a dirty look at that, bt he swallowed down the annoyed protest and focused back on Colette instead. “Just…hold on a little longer, okay?”

"It's not like I can go anywhere else," Colette replied, her voice slightly amused. "I’ll keep our little speed demon in there a little lo...." She broke off and let out a quiet hiss of pain, her voice once again cut off by what Max suspected to be a particularly painful contraction.

“Colette,” he said sharply, all kinds of emotions washing over him, one by one. “Liefje, just…just breathe through it, okay?”

There was a second of panting, then, he heard her take a deep breath. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay,” she finally said. “Just…hurts like hell.”

He swallowed and clenched his free hand tightly into a fist, fighting against the urge to just jump out of the car and start running towards the airport.

Colette being in pain was not something he could deal with.

He heard her take a few more deep breaths, and he just sat there, waiting and listening and feeling absolutely useless.

"How long until you get here?" she asked after a moment, her voice breathless. He could see her in his mind, his sweet girl, sitting on the bed and clutching her belly as another contraction hit her.

"We're not even at the airport yet," he told her, and damn it, why were his eyes suddenly burning. "We’ll get there as soon as we can, okay? Just...hold on a little longer."

"What your dad said..." Colette said with a shaky voice.

"I know," he said simply, the grief raw in his voice. Neither of them were ever really going to get over the two babies they had lost. They had learnt to live with the pain, they had dealt with the heartbreak an grief...but it was always going to be scar for them.

"Max, if something…" she began, her voice a little wobbly. He could tell that she was crying, by the way her breathing got a little more hitched and ragged.

But she suddenly cut off and gasped, letting out an even breath. Another contraction..."Hey, nothing is gonna happen," he quickly said, trying to soothe her. "Nothing. I'll be there soon. I'll be there before you know, and our child will meet their parents. We will be fine, we will get through this. You, and me. Together."

"If something happens," Colette continues. "If..."

"No," he cut her off, the word coming out as a growl. "Nothing is gonna happen. You will not talk that way. You’re going to deliver a gorgeous and healthy baby, and I won’t hear anything else."

"Max..." she protested, but Max wasn’t having it.

"You’re not going anywhere," he said firmly, putting as much steel in his voice as he could. "You will be fine. Our baby will be fine, and I will be there soon and I will hold your hand and you can threaten to geld me and all of it will be okay. Just breathe.” 

He could hear the sound of her breathing, deep and even. She was trying to steady it, and Max gripped his phone tighter. He didn’t know if he was trying to hold himself together, or if he was trying to hold on to the sound of her voice.

The seconds ticked by, and then another contraction hit, and he heard her gasp out another ragged breath. Max felt like he was going to crawl out of his own skin. The idea of her in pain was like an invisible knife twisting a little deeper in his gut, each time.

"We need to go," Charles said suddenly. "We need to get into the plane." The car slowed down at that moment. "Coco, listen to me. I am going to be absolutely fucking furious with you if something happens to you," Charles told her fiercely. 

"Trust me," Colette’s voice said, sounding slightly tired. "I am very, very motivated to stay alive."

That was good. That was a good sign. If she was still being sarcastic and even a little bit cheeky…it was good.

"Just hold on," he told her again, the familiar feeling of helplessness seeping into his bones. "Just keep hanging on, for me. I love you."

“I love you too,” the words were as immediate and as fast as the sunrise each morning. "Hurry up, dammit."

"I’m trying," he replied, his voice hoarse. "I’m trying. We’re at the airport now. We’ll get there as fast as we can-" he had to stop, when he heard her let out another pained gasping sound, as another contraction clearly hit her hard.

“Goddamn,” he exclaimed, all of his muscles tense with the urge to do something. He wanted to help her, he wanted to be there to comfort her…but more than anything,  he was terrified of losing her. "Liefje, just keep breathing, okay? Breathe and stay calm."

"I’m trying to," her voice was breathless, and he knew that she was probably trying hard to fight the urge to cry out. Oh God, he hated that. He hated seeing her in pain, he loathed feeling this utterly useless.

"Go. Love you," she told him.

"I love you," he told her emphatically, wanting to say something more, but then Charles impatiently gestured at him to hurry up and get out of the car. "I...I’ll see you soon, okay? Just hang on, okay?"

"Yeah," he could tell that she was trying even harder to control her voice, trying to put on a calm and steady front for his benefit. "Just..." she cut off and let out a gasp, another contraction evidently hitting her hard. "...just hurry up before this baby decides to make their way out before you arrive, okay?"

"I will," he promised through gritted teeth. "I will, goddammit, I will, just…hang on."

He heard Colette’s pained panting, and each of her breaths was like a stab in the gut.He hated having to hang up on her

Everything in him rebelled at that. How could he, how could he possibly abandon her like that, how could he let her take on this pain and fear all by herself, without him there to hold her hand...but goddamnit, he had no choice.

He took a shuddering breath and pushed past the urge to scream, to slam his fist into something, anything. His mind was a whirlwind of emotions, ranging from the desperate need to get to her, to overwhelming panic, to anger at the universe for forcing them apart and for putting her through this pain.

Into the plane they went…it was probably the shortest amount of time between entering a plane and taking off Max had ever experienced. 

Before too long they were up in the air, flying towards Nice.

The minutes ticked by, each one passing by like a century. Max would sit in restless agitation at his seat, his mind racing back and forth. Every thought and memory came back to Colette. He just wanted to be at her side, he just wanted everything to be okay…

And instead he would be stuck on this plane for 6 hours.

He would be stuck on this goddamn plane for six hours. Six hours, each one of them filled with the knowledge that the love of his life was giving birth to their child, and he was not there to support her, to hold her hand and reassure her that everything was okay.

It was driving him absolutely insane. He couldn’t take it, he just wanted to be there, with her. He could vividly picture her, sitting in the hospital bed and gripping the rails, her face screwed up in pain as she fought through another contraction. And he was not there to comfort her.

"Maman is with her. Your sister is with her. Lorenzo and Arthur too." Charles said at that moment. “We aren't there but everybody else is."

"How can you be this calm?" Max asked him, dragging a hand through sweat damp hair.

"Don't mistake calm for not being worried," Charles said evenly, his eyes tracking Max's restless pacing of the plane. "I am worried. For her, for you and for the little one. But freaking out isn't gonna do anyone any favours right now."

"I know,” Max said, his voice still strangled tight with stress. He just couldn't get any of the images out of his mind - her struggling and fighting her way through the pain, looking more vulnerable and pale than he had ever seen her...and he was not there.

“Besides, I shouted at Ferrari’s PR and got it out of my system, so currently, I am feeling quite calm.” Charles said darkly. “I imagine that’s going to change again when I am sure that Colette and the baby are alright.”

Max just stared at him. Charles had done what?

If there was a religion that Charles Leclerc believed in then it was Ferrari.

Charles Leclerc was their golden boy. Their Il Predestinato. There was no good-natured fobbing to be had about Ferrari regardless of what issues there had been had through the years, and there had been a lot.

Charles worshipped Ferrari like a malevolent goddess. He didn’t want to hear any criticism of his team and Max had given up on that a very long time ago. 

Charles and Colette both could be the most stubborn people Max had ever match. The only one who could match their stubbornness were each other. 

"You did what?" Max stared at him, utterly flabbergasted. Charles was an absolute Ferrari fan and loyal to the very core…why the hell would he yell at the PR people?

"Why...? What did they do?"

"They weren't even going to tell me that something was wrong with Colette," Charles said darkly. "I knew it. I knew that something was off. But they didn't say anything. It was one of Red Bull's PR Staff that got me out of the cooldown room. Ferrari wouldn't have said anything to me. Ferrari didn't want me to leave either. They wanted to debrief, they wanted me to give interviews,"

Max had to resist the urge to swear. He had been so focused on the fact that he was not with Colette that he hadn't even processed the fact that Ferrari had actually kept her labour a secret from Charles, simply to make him stay and do his goddamn job for them.

"You know that that is not normal, right?" he asked him drily. "I am not telling you that everything is perfect at Red Bull but Christian would never fucking stand for that."

"You know I never expected it," Charles told him, his mouth a thin hard line. "We are the drivers. We are the stars. But we come second. First and foremost, we are assets to the team. What Ferrari wants, Ferrari gets. We drive, we get podiums, we hold the trophies, and we smile for the cameras. Everything else comes second. It doesn’t matter to them. To them, only the trophies matter. "

"That's what they want," Max told him, anger seeping into his voice. "But that's not how it should be. Ferrari is wrong. If something is wrong with your loved ones, they have no right to keep it from you like that. Especially not for the sake of a goddamn interview."

"I know," Charles said, his lips thin with bitterness. "But there's not much I can do about it, is there? We may be the top drivers on the grid, but we drive the car that the teams give us. There's only so much that we can do when the team has power over pretty much every aspect of our career. And believe me, I am going to pay a fucking price for doing what I did. I just don't care at all. It's Colette," he said sharply. "I love all my siblings. I do. I love Lorenzo and Arthur. I would do everything for them. But they aren't my twin. They aren't the second half of me," Charles said simply. "Ferrari be damned."

Max hadn't thought that he was ever going to hear these words out of Charles' mouth but here they were.

"What the fuck did Jos say by the way? What did Coco mean?" Charles demanded.

"He gave an interview to Sky Sports," Max said, fury still embering deep in his gut.

"Of course he did." Charles said, not sounding surprised at all. "What did he say?"

"Confirmed the relationship...and the pregnancy," Max said clenching his teeth. "And if that wasn't enough...he made a...comment about how it had taken us long enough to have a baby."

There was a sharp indrawn breath as Charles absorbed that. "...What?" Charles said after a moment, his voice strangled. "...he made that comment in public? Are - are you serious?"

"I never told him about the two...miscarriages," Max said quietly. "I couldn't deal with whatever well meant advice he was going to have...but I...We lost two babies," Max said weakly. "My father went out there and confirmed our relationship and the pregnancy without talking to either of us. He just made that decision because it's "ridiculous" that we kept it a secret for so long. An it’s making me furious. This wasn't his decision to make. This was ours."

"Yes," Charles said, his jaw clenching. "It was. Your decision. Nobody else’s. He had absolutely no right to do that. Goddamn it, I have never liked that man, but I've never had the urge to punch him as much as I do this very moment."

"You and me both," Max said. The anger he was feeling would have been burning through him like a damn inferno if he hadn't been so worried about Colette.

"This should have come from us," Max repeated quietly. "Not from anybody else."

"It still can come from you," Charles said.

Max paused, looking up at him. "Are you saying we should..." he began uncertainly.

"You want to tell the entire world that you love my sister and that she is having your baby? You have an Instagram account and a phone with an internet connection," Charles said drily. "Tell them the truth. Your truth."

Max opened his mouth and then closed it again. Charles had a point. It was obvious what the news was going to be now if people had seen Jos's interview.

But he wanted to be the one to tell the world. He wanted it to be on his terms. He wanted it to be public but on his public terms. Not his father's.

"Are you ever going to ask my sister to marry you?" Charles asked him suddenly.

The question caught him completely off guard. "...What?" He said blankly, stunned by the change of the conversation.

"You gave her a ring when you were both 18 that you both insisted was only a promise ring," Charles said drily. "Are you ever going to replace it with the real thing?"

He thought back to that ring that still sat on Colette's finger to this day. A simply gold band with a tiny heart-shaped diamond.

He had given it to her in 2016, after his very first Grand Prix win in Spain. He had gone out and bought it that very same day to be exact.

He had bought Victoira a handbag the first time he had scored his championship points...but the first time he had won...he had bought Colette that ring.

"Apparently the baby is only going to have your surname too, because you have an agreement," Charles continued. "Do I actually want to know what that agreement was?"

"We were 18. Both our father's would have probably killed us, if we came to them and told them that we were engaged," Max said with a sigh. The Leclerc's had always been supportive of their relationship but Hervè Leclerc had very much thought that both Colette and him were far too young to get married. 

Jos on the other hand...Max didn't even want to imagine that screaming fit.  "So I gave her that ring and we agreed that..."

"You agreed that..." Charles repeated slowly, silently urging him to continue.

Max let out a deep sigh and dragged a hand through his already messy hair, mussing it up even more. "We agreed that we didn't really need a piece of paper to tell us what we already knew," he said simply. "Colette and I had been together for 6 years at that point, we already knew and accepted that we were going to be together for the rest of our lives. It was just a matter of when. So we decided that we didn't need a damn piece of paper to know that we were committed to each other. We already knew that, without a doubt," Max said simply. "It was a promise ring. To love and to cherish, till death us do part. One day we would do it properly, but till then...that ring was a promise."

Charles stared at him. "Let me get this straight. You have been married to my sister for 10 years?" he asked him sharply.

Max winced. Okay. Put like that, it sounded kinda bad. "We never had the actual wedding," he said sheepishly. "We both know it wasn't necessary for us, so...we kinda just...never got around to it."

"I mean, I did ask your father for her hand in marriage when it was clear that he wasn't going to be there...when we eventually did it properly...but...for us that ring was… It was more than enough," Max said quietly. "I knew damn well that I would be with her for the rest of my life. She knew it. We both knew it. And that ring was a symbol between us that sealed the deal. We both knew that it was going to be for forever and always. It was a promise. A promise to always stay by each other’s side. No matter how badly things fell apart around us. No matter how much the world wanted to tear us to apart. We were going to stay together, come hell or high water. We didn't need a paper to prove that to us or the rest of the world," Max said firmly.

Charles stared at him for a couple of long moments, processing this. Max was well aware that, from an outside perspective, it might sound weird. That they had been so young, but so utterly certain that they were going to spend their lives together.

But he and Colette had been together for years. And he had seen how strongly they had bonded over the years, seen what they had been able to deal with as a team, as one, and how they had come through every single thing that the life had thrown at them together.

"You two are utterly ridiculous," Charles finally said drily. "You didn't get engaged because as far as you two were concerned you already got married years ago."

Max winced a little bit and couldn't really refute it. If he were to be honest, he'd have admit it did sound utterly ridiculous, when Charles spelled it out like that.

But that just...that was how badly they had known right from the very beginning that this was it for them. They didn't need a piece of paper to tell them what they already knew.

"I'll ask her properly," he promised Charles. "I already got the ring. But Colette doesn't want to overshadow Lorenzo and Charlotte and I knew that she wasn't going to want to have a big party while pregnant so I figured I would just wait."

Charles was slightly taken aback by his words, before he gave a small smile. "She'll definitely say yes, you know," he said, the corner of his eyes crinkling with affection.

Max smiled in return. His heart ached with the thought of her. "I hope so," he said quietly, feeling like there was a hole in his chest where his heart was supposed to be. "I really, really hope so."

[mothekko]

Her woman.

Where Ambessa demands your attention after a long trip.

Ambessa Medarda x fem!reader Warnings: alcohol drinking, buff reader, reader is implied to be lesbian, slightly sub!ambessa, fluff, no-smut, kisses<3 mwah mwah. Word count: 968.

notes: ambessa my beloved (not just mine but of course my best friend's beloved too), i had this idea yesterday when she cried cause every reader is always the girly girl type, never a big woman with big everything (including her arms 😛), anyway, enjoy reading as I did writing :3 xoxo

MEN AND MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Ambessa was not a fragile lady, no. She was far from this. First, she was the type of mercilessly war dog everyone heard about. Her fingers were not as delicate as some women tried to imagine.

Oh, and you knew it. You knew her hands were stronger than any other woman you ever had an affair with. She was delicate, but rough. She was firm and strong, and for God’s sake, you could listen to all the girls and boys in the whole Noxus almost moaning for her, just by seeing her walk on the streets. She didn't pay too much attention, she had her business with you. She came back from war, her fatigue was noticeable in her letters, and you analyzed them perfectly, all of them.

As much as you knew about her weariness, she always asked you for a visit, and how could you deny the woman who gave you your position as high guard in Noxus? The more time passed, your attention was drawn to the dark streets of Noxus, scantily clad women didn't attract you, even though it was the complete opposite for you and they sometimes tried to attach themselves to your belt, along with the axe and sword that were in the hem of your pants and back. The icy wind touched your hair, two braids made by the war general framed your face. It wasn't usual for you to leave your hair loose, but after weeks, or months, without seeing each other, the braids were Ambessa's only request.

You looked across the horizon, all the tents closed and quiet, but that one... that central one, which you knew who was inside; the candles flickering in the air were warming someone. Ambessa was waiting for you. As you approached the place, your muscles tensed in suspicion as you entered the tent. You sighed and Ambessa looked back, a smile from her brightened up her face. A woman like her? Smiling? You're lucky.

“Night, ma’am…” You said, the smell of alcohol around the place was a little too much this time, but well, it’s Ambessa, after all. “Too much to handle this time? Or drinking for fun?”

She didn’t answer you, not like she usually does. She silently invited you to sit next to her, moving the wine bottle to the side on the floor. Cautiously you walked through the tent, until you reached her side, and before you could even sit down, she settled her head on your waist. Her mind was heavy with thoughts.

Ambessa without her usual clothes, smiling, and laying her head on you? Of course something was wrong. But this kind of wrong is not so bad, not at all. At least she was showing some affection. 

“Listen, darling… don’t ask any questions today… I just want you to be good for me.” She said, she doesn’t look drunk. Does she? “These months without you made me so bored, you know…”

You kindly touched her hair, asking yourself what you should do in that situation. 

“Ma’am, you’re not drunk, are you?” You laughed, looking a little closer. You touched her face, checking her eyes, and suddenly, she removed your hand and sighs deeply. 

“You know me too well, sugar. Maybe I should pretend harder next time…” You finally felt like everything was okay, she was lying and that’s all. “Are you gonna sleep here tonight?” she took a sip of wine “Or will I wake up with a boy calling me out for being too sleepy?”

A sigh escaped your lips, a frustrated sigh now. You looked straight at her, sitting by her side. 

“Listen, ma’am, I always told them to send a woman to wake you up, look at me, do I look like someone who likes any kind of boy here?” She shook her head. “That’s what I thought. And, who said you’re too sleepy? These boys around here have no fucking respect for you…”

You pulled the woman closer, holding her tightly. She was warmer than you, obviously because you were outside thirty minutes ago, but still, that makes your heart skip a beat. Again you move your hands to her cheek, and she looks at you with those shining eyes.

“What a beautiful woman I see…” You said. And then, you gently kissed her lips, in a simple way. You used to kiss each other, nothing new. But it was definitely special this time. You felt like it was. Her hands, which had been resting on her thigh, now moved up so that they could rest on your waist. “Won’t you tell me about your…”

She shut you with a finger to your lips, kissing you again calmly, caressing your war scarred face. Your arms, which were a bit stronger than hers, held her against your body, feeling how fast her heart was beating.

“I have to be careful… or you’ll become stronger than me, imagine if they put you in my place?” She made you chuckle softly, moving a hand down to rest on her back.

“You’re making no sense, ma’am. I could never replace you. But I’m happy you noticed…” 

“Well… I always notice, sweetheart.” She gave you a peck on the lips, snuggling into your chest. “You’re my woman, and I know when you get stronger.”

She said it so casually, with her closed eyes as if she was almost asleep; you wouldn’t doubt it. She had just arrived from a long trip after all.

“Your woman…? Mhm… yeah, you’re definitely sleepy. Goodnight, ma’am… I’ll wake you up tomorrow…”

You could hear a “finally” coming from her as she snuggled into your body. You picked her up, taking the woman to the bed, blowing the candles, pulling the blankets over you, finally spooning her from behind and nuzzling her neck.

[angelseraphines]

ೃ⁀➷ white mustang ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🦢

╰┈➤ cho sang-woo x single!mother!reader imagine

a/n: i would like to give a special thank you to @lumillsie for the layout of this post and for the filter used on the header!

˚ ༘♡ you were a single mother raising a four-year-old daughter in the bustling, unforgiving city of seoul. life had not unfolded as you once fantasized it might, instead, it had cornered you into a relentless cycle of poverty and struggle. you had married young, filled with hope and naivety, but those dreams were shattered when your husband abandoned you shortly after you announced your pregnancy. unable to bear the duties of fatherhood, he not only left but also cast you out of the home you once shared, leaving you to fend for yourself and your unborn child.

˚ ༘♡ your own family, steeped in tradition and pride, turned their backs on you as well. they viewed your divorce as a mark of shame, a stain on their honor. the fact that you would raise a child without a father was, in their eyes, an unforgivable disgrace. they refused to take you in, forcing you to seek refuge in whatever options you could find. eventually, you found work as a sales assistant at a small boutique, where the pay was barely enough to scrape by. minimum wage stretched thin over endless expense, formula, rent, utilities, and it quickly became apparent that even the bare necessities were a luxury. in a moment of sheer desperation, you began taking out loans amounting in tens of thousands of won, well aware you could never repay them. the interest piled up as fast as the bills, but the loans kept your daughter fed and clothed, albeit barely. you hated yourself for it, but there were no other choices that didn’t feel impossible.

˚ ༘♡ your home, if it could be called that, was on the less fortunate side of a narrow street lined with aging apartments and cracked sidewalks. the peeling paint and broken railings were a daily reminder of your circumstances. yet, even amidst your despair, you couldn’t help but notice the contrast a few blocks over, a wealthier stretch of the same neighborhood, where sleek cars parked outside magnificent homes and prosperity seemed to flourish. it was during one of your daily walks to the bus stop, your daughter’s tiny hand clutching yours, that you first noticed him.

˚ ༘♡ cho sang-woo. a man who seemed completely out of place in your reality but belonged so effortlessly to the better half of the neighborhood. his polished suits, sharp gaze, and air of quiet confidence spoke of success and power. you didn’t know much about him, only the whispered details you overheard at the local convenience store. he was a former student of seoul university, where he graduated at the top of his class, and he now worked at joy investments, one of the most prestigious firms in the city. he lived in the nicer part of the street, a place that might as well have been a world apart from yours.

˚ ༘♡ for weeks, your paths crossed without words. you would see him on the way to work, his brisk stride purposeful and somehow detached. you’d clutch your daughter’s hand tightly as she skipped beside you, her laughter a rare mirthful mark in your otherwise gray days. sometimes, you wondered if he noticed you at all, or if to him, you were just another melancholic face in the crowd. but there was something in the way his eyes briefly wandered to yours, a swift, barely noticeable moment of acknowledgment, almost imperceptible but not absent.

˚ ༘♡ a month passed without much change. you worked long hours at the boutique, came home to your daughter’s laughter echoing in the small apartment, and fell asleep each night with exhaustion pressing against your chest. spring had arrived, softening the chill in the air and filling the streets with blossoms and a sense of renewal you couldn’t quite feel for yourself. still, you tried to give your daughter a taste of joy, taking her for walks when time allowed, letting her skip along the sidewalks as if the world weren’t so cynical.

˚ ༘♡ one bright afternoon, the kind that made the city’s grime seem almost picturesque, you saw him again. cho sang-woo stood ahead, unmistakable in his dark business suit. the clean lines of his attire and the polished leather of his shoes seemed to set him apart from the bustling, chaotic world around him. his square-rimmed glasses caught the sunlight, and his expression, though composed, held a trace of warmth when he noticed you approaching. he lifted a hand in a brief wave and nodded. “good morning,” he greeted, his tone polite but personable.

˚ ༘♡ you returned his nod with a soft smile, your daughter tugging lightly at your hand. “good morning to you as well, sir,” you replied, your voice calm, though you felt a twinge of surprise that he’d acknowledged you.

˚ ༘♡ your daughter, far less reserved, beamed up at him, her youthful cheer impossible to contain. “hello, sir!” she exclaimed with a giggle, her small voice cutting through the hum of the city.

˚ ༘♡ he stopped in his tracks, the corners of his mouth lifting in a genuine grin. “how old is she?” he asked, his gaze shifting to your daughter, who looked up at him with wide, curious eyes.

˚ ༘♡ “four years old as of last month,” you replied, brushing a hand over her dark hair with a hint of pride you didn’t bother hiding.

˚ ༘♡ he adjusted his glasses, the gesture quick and practiced, before replying, “she’s a clever child. you’re blessed to have her.”

˚ ༘♡ his words, spoken so simply yet with unmistakable sincerity, stirred something in you. “i tell myself that every day,” you said quietly, your fingers tightening gently around your daughter’s small hand.

˚ ༘♡ he didn’t seem rushed to leave, lingering as though the conversation mattered more than wherever he was headed. his questions were unintrusive, small talk about the weather, the flowers blooming along the street, and whether you’d been in the neighborhood long. you answered politely, aware of the contrast between his world and yours yet struck by how easily he spoke to you.

˚ ༘♡ after a few minutes, he glanced at his watch, a subtle flare of responsibility returning to his expression. “i’d better get going,” he said, though there was no impatience in his tone. “it was nice talking to you.”

˚ ༘♡ “and to you,” you replied, dipping your head slightly.

˚ ༘♡ he offered your daughter one last smile before walking away, his pace measured, his presence lingering even as he disappeared down the street. you watched him for a moment, then turned back to your daughter, who was already pulling you toward the park.

˚ ༘♡ from that day on, whenever your paths crossed, he made a point to stop and speak with you. at first, the exchanges were brief, a polite inquiry about your day or a comment on how quickly your daughter was growing. but as the weeks passed, the conversations stretched longer, even when his crisp attire and leather briefcase suggested a packed schedule. he would pause, leaning slightly toward you as he spoke, his words carrying a kind of attentiveness you hadn’t encountered in a long time. those encounters, swift as they were, began to carve a small space of solace into the otherwise monotonous routine of your days.

˚ ༘♡ one quiet afternoon, as you were tidying up after a long day, the phone rang. you glanced at the screen and saw sang-woo’s name flashing. you hesitated for a moment, unsure why he was calling, but you picked up. his voice on the other end was casual yet warm. “would you like to grab dinner tonight? nothing fancy, something simple,” he said, his tone friendly enough to put you at ease.

˚ ༘♡ you smiled softly, though he couldn’t see it. “i’d like to, but i can’t leave my daughter home alone,” you replied, your words tinged with regret. her well-being was always your priority, and you weren’t in a position to make exceptions.

˚ ༘♡ he didn’t hesitate to reply. “then bring her along,” he insisted without hesitation. “it’ll be fun for all of us, and i couldn’t think of leaving her out.”

˚ ༘♡ his sincerity made it hard to say no. after a brief pause, you agreed, telling him you’d meet him shortly. your daughter, wide-eyed and excited, picked the dinner, a feast of fried chicken and tteokbokki. it wasn’t what you considered a balanced meal, but sang-woo laughed softly when you voiced your concerns. “an occasional indulgence won’t hurt,” he reassured you, his tone effortlessly convincing. “besides, it’s my treat tonight.”

˚ ༘♡ when you arrived at the small, bustling eatery, your daughter clung to your hand while her gaze darted around, taking in the brightly colored menus and the sizzling platters on nearby tables. sang-woo was already seated, waving you over with a welcoming smile that made you feel momentarily lighter. he pulled out a chair for you before settling back into his own seat, engaging your daughter with playful questions about her favorite foods and games. her laughter filled the air as he entertained her, his natural charm putting her completely at ease.

˚ ༘♡ as the meal went on, you found yourself relaxing, enjoying the rare treat of good food and pleasant company. when your daughter noticed the arcade machines near the back of the restaurant, her face lit up with excitement. before you could say a word, sang-woo reached into his pocket and handed her a coin, encouraging her to go play while the two of you stayed behind. it was then, as you sat alone with him, that the evening took a turn you hadn’t anticipated.

˚ ༘♡ leaning in slightly, his expression grew more thoughtful. “can i ask you something personal?” he began, his voice measured and quiet. you nodded, unsure where he was going with this. “are you seeing anyone right now?”

˚ ༘♡ the question caught you off guard. you hesitated, but there was no point in pretending. with a quiet sigh, you opened up about your past, your brief, ill-fated marriage, your ex-husband’s abandonment, and the struggles that had followed. sang-woo listened intently, his gaze steady, never betraying judgment or discomfort. when you finished, he offered a small, empathetic smile and reached across the table, his hand brushing yours lightly. “you’ve been through so much, but you’re doing a wonderful job as a mother,” he said, his words sincere. before you could respond, he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, quick and discreet, ensuring your daughter didn’t see.

˚ ༘♡ the gesture left you momentarily speechless, your heart racing in a way it hadn’t in years. cho sang-woo was everything society valued, handsome, intelligent, and successful. yet, you couldn’t ignore the gap between your worlds. a single mother scraping by on meager wages didn’t belong in the same orbit as a man like him, no matter how kind he was. you told yourself he was simply a good friend, someone who offered comfort in a lonely existence. but the truth was harder to dismiss, and the growing fondness you felt for him remained long after that night.

˚ ༘♡ weeks later, the strain of your financial troubles bore down on you more heavily than ever. the debt had spiraled out of control, and every day felt like a losing battle to stay afloat. you were walking home one evening when a sharply dressed man approached you, his presence almost unsettling in its precision. he introduced himself with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes and held out two small folded squares of paper. “care for a game of ddakji?” he asked, his tone cheerful but with an undercurrent of something you couldn’t quite place. “if you win, you’ll get one hundred thousand won. if you lose, i get to slap you.”

˚ ༘♡ desperation clouded your judgment, and against your better instincts, you agreed. the first few rounds ended in failure, each slap stinging more than the last. but you persisted, driven by the thought of what that money could mean for your daughter. finally, with trembling hands and a burst of determination, you flipped the paper correctly. the man handed you the cash with an unsettling smile and then extended a business card. “call this number if you want to win more,” he said, his words lingering in your mind as you walked away clutching the money.

˚ ༘♡ that night, after tucking your daughter into bed, you stared at the card for what felt like hours. the temptation was overwhelming, and in the end, it won. you called the number, your voice shaking as you gave your name and address. within minutes, a sleek black limousine pulled up in front of your building, its windows tinted so dark you couldn’t see inside. stepping in, you barely had time to settle before a strange chemical filled the air, and the world went dark.

˚ ༘♡ when you awoke, the surroundings were unfamiliar and unnerving. rows of bunk beds stretched endlessly across a vast room, the walls painted a distasteful shade of green. you looked down and saw the plain jumpsuit you now wore, the number 017 stitched onto the fabric. confusion and fear gripped you, but one thought rose above the chaos, your daughter was at home, and you had to survive this for her, to give the life she deserved.

˚ ༘♡ the goal of winning was your aspiration when the first game began. at first glance, it seemed absurd, red light, green light, a relic from childhood memories long buried beneath the weight of adulthood. the vibrant, oversized doll at the far end of the field seemed almost laughable in its stillness, its painted smile eerie but harmless. but that illusion shattered when the first player was eliminated. the sound of the gunshot echoed through the air, followed by the horrifying sight of their lifeless body collapsing onto the dirt. the cheerful voice announcing the rules continued without pause, as though nothing had happened.

˚ ༘♡ panic erupted among the players. shouts of disbelief and terror filled the air as dozens bolted toward the exits, frantic and desperate to escape. one by one, they were struck down, their bodies littering the field as if caught in an invisible storm. the realization hit you like a physical blow, this was no game. this was life and death, and you were standing in its grasp. your knees trembled under the weight of fear, and your breaths came shallow and quick. every instinct screamed at you to run, to flee the nightmare unfolding around you.

˚ ༘♡ “the doll’s eyes are motion sensors. don’t move.”

˚ ༘♡ the voice came from behind, quiet but firm, cutting through the chaos. you turned your head slightly, careful to avoid triggering the sensors. it was cho sang-woo, his expression as composed as ever, though his voice carried an edge you had never heard before. his presence shocked you, why was he here? he had a prestigious job, a beautiful home, a life far removed from the misery that had led you to this place. what could have driven him to join this horrifying spectacle? but there was no time for answers. survival demanded your complete attention.

˚ ༘♡ you fixed your gaze on the doll, its head swiveling unnervingly to scan the players. the melody began again, and with it, the rules of survival. move forward, stop immediately, stay frozen. you forced yourself to take small, deliberate steps, resisting the overwhelming urge to sprint. each time the doll’s head turned, you froze, your body taut with fear, your heart pounding so loudly it seemed deafening. every second stretched into eternity, every step forward a test of willpower.

˚ ༘♡ sang-woo crossed the finish line seconds before you, his figure stoic as he turned his back to the field. you pushed onward, your focus unyielding, until you finally crossed the line with seconds to spare. the tension in your body snapped, leaving your legs weak beneath you, but you remained upright, clinging to the knowledge that you had survived, for now. you glanced toward sang-woo, hoping for some acknowledgment, but he avoided your gaze entirely, turning away as if you were a stranger.

˚ ༘♡ once the last player stumbled through, the harsh blare of a horn signaled the end of the game, and the survivors were ushered back into the dormitory. the atmosphere was suffocating, the air thick with tension and fear as the reality of what they had just endured began to sink in. the sight of so many bodies lying lifeless on the field haunted you, but there was no time to grieve, no space to process. the masked guards stood silent and menacing, a constant reminder that you were trapped under their watchful gaze.

˚ ༘♡ as the players murmured among themselves, questions and disbelief rippling through the crowd, one of the masked guards stepped forward. his voice was distorted through the microphone, chilling in its detachment. “to remind you why you are here, we will reveal the amount of debt each of you owes.”

˚ ༘♡ the room fell silent, a collective tension building as a screen lit up on one of the walls. one by one, the players’ faces appeared, alongside staggering amounts of debt. gasps and whispers spread as the numbers grew larger and larger, each amount more crippling than the last. when your face appeared, the sum displayed made your stomach churn, a figure so vast it felt insurmountable, nearly half a billion won, a reflection of every foolish decision you had made to keep your daughter fed and housed.

˚ ༘♡ but the room truly stilled when cho sang-woo’s face appeared on the screen. his debt was six billion won. the air seemed to grow heavier as the number glowed on the screen, an incomprehensible weight tied to the man who had always seemed so polished, so composed, so untouchable. a few players exchanged shocked glances, but sang-woo’s expression didn’t waver. his face remained unreadable, a mask of calm that betrayed none of the turmoil he might have felt.

˚ ༘♡ you couldn’t stop staring at him. six billion won? how could someone with his education, his prestigious career, have ended up in such a dire position? questions swirled in your mind, but the icy tone of the guard’s voice broke through your thoughts. “this is what brought you here. this is what you must fight to overcome.”

˚ ༘♡ as the screen darkened, the room buzzed with subdued murmurs. the revelation had shifted the atmosphere, exposing the cracks in the carefully guarded facades of those around you. it was a stark reminder that no one here was truly secure, no matter how confident or composed they appeared.

˚ ༘♡ murmurs of confusion and disbelief filled the air. then, to your astonishment, sang-woo stepped forward and initiated a vote to end the game. the announcement caused a ripple of hope, and soon the vote began. by the narrowest margin, the majority chose to leave. the thought of returning to your daughter filled you with relief, even as unease lingered in your mind.

˚ ༘♡ back in the outside world, you clung to the brief sense of normalcy that returning home provided. your daughter’s laughter was a salve to your frayed nerves, but the relief was fleeting. the reality of your situation hit like a tidal wave when you opened the door to find loan sharks waiting, their demands sharper and more insistent than before. a stack of bills sat ominously on your table, a chilling reminder that leaving the game hadn’t erased your debts. it had only delayed the inevitable.

˚ ༘♡ when the sleek black limousine returned, you didn’t hesitate. you kissed your daughter’s forehead, returned her to the care of your elderly neighbor, and climbed into the car, your resolve hardening. the gas filled the air once again, and the world faded into unconsciousness. when you awoke, you were back in the same vast dormitory, the green jumpsuit hanging from your frame like a prison uniform.

˚ ༘♡ to your surprise, and perhaps dismay, sang-woo had returned as well. he stood apart from the crowd, his expression carefully neutral, as though he had already resigned himself to whatever horrors lay ahead. you couldn’t help but feel a pang of curiosity and frustration. what could have brought him back to this nightmare? but his presence, as unsettling as it was, also brought a sliver of comfort. at least one person here wasn’t a complete stranger. whether he acknowledged you or not, the fact that he was there, breathing the same air, enduring the same fate, made the unbearable feel slightly less isolating.

˚ ༘♡ as you climbed through the maze of brightly colored block structures on your way to the second game, the oppressive silence among the players was broken only by the occasional scrape of shoes against the smooth surfaces. the atmosphere was suffocating, each person wrapped in their own thoughts of survival. as you reached the next passageway, you caught sight of sang-woo walking a few steps ahead, his broad shoulders unmistakable even in the dull green jumpsuit. you quickened your pace, weaving around other players until you came up beside him.

˚ ༘♡ “sang-woo?” you called out hesitantly, unsure if he even wanted to be acknowledged. “it’s good to see you.”

˚ ༘♡ he turned to face you, his expression weary, his sharp features softened by exhaustion. his glasses were gone, leaving his face bare in a way that felt unfamiliar. the hollowness in his eyes made your heart ache, a stark contrast to the composed man you once knew. “it’s good to see you as well,” he said quietly, though his tone carried an undercurrent of shame. his gaze drifted downward, as though he couldn’t bear to meet your eyes for long.

˚ ༘♡ you hesitated, unsure whether to press him further, but the words poured out before you could stop them. “sang-woo, i had no idea you were in so much debt. i thought…” you faltered, the unfinished sentence hanging heavily in the air. you couldn’t bring yourself to say it aloud, the claims you’d heard about client embezzlement and loans swirling in your mind. surely, he wouldn’t have stolen money from his workplace? the man you thought you knew wouldn’t sink to such levels, or so you hoped.

˚ ༘♡ his lips pressed into a thin line, his expression tightening. “we can talk later, alright?” his voice was calm, but the subtle edge warned you not to push further. he looked away, focusing on the corridor ahead, his discomfort palpable.

˚ ༘♡ before you could respond, the masked guards appeared, their presence commanding immediate attention. one of them stepped forward, his voice cold and distorted as he barked instructions. “players, form a line in front of the four doors, triangle, circle, star, and umbrella.” the straightforward simplicity of the directive only heightened your unease. no explanation was given, and the purpose of the shapes remained a mystery.

˚ ༘♡ you watched as sang-woo leaned toward the group of players he had been speaking with, his voice low but audible. “we should split up,” he suggested. “i’ll take the triangle.” his tone was measured, but there was something deliberate in the way he spoke, as though he knew more than he was letting on.

˚ ༘♡ you stepped closer, offering him a faint smile. “i’ll take the star,” you said, trying to inject a bit of optimism into the tension-filled space.

˚ ༘♡ his jaw tightened visibly, and he shook his head, the motion slow and deliberate. “no,” he said, his voice firm. his friends had already dispersed, blending into the lines forming at the other doors, but he didn’t move. his gaze locked onto yours, unflinching.

˚ ༘♡ “why not?” you asked, confused by his sudden insistence.

˚ ༘♡ he hesitated, the pause stretching long enough to feel significant. “i think you should stick with me,” he said finally. “for a woman, the next game could be dangerous, and you might need protection. choose triangle with me.”

˚ ༘♡ there was something in his tone, persuasive as it could be, that made it impossible to refuse. though his reasoning unsettled you, you nodded, falling into line behind him as the players shuffled forward. your eyes scanned the room anxiously, searching for any clue as to what lay ahead.

˚ ༘♡ when the game was finally revealed, your stomach sank. the guards handed each player a thin tin containing a piece of dalgona candy. the shape on the door you had chosen corresponded to the delicate imprint in the sugar, triangle for you and sang-woo. the instructions were chillingly simple, extract the shape from the brittle candy without breaking it. failure meant elimination.

˚ ༘♡ as you stared down at the candy in your hands, your breath hitched. the triangle, though angular and sharp, was mercifully the easiest of the shapes. your fingers trembled as you picked up the needle provided, its point glinting under the harsh overhead lights. you glanced at sang-woo, who was already at work on his candy, his face an unreadable mask. you offered him a small, grateful smile, relieved that his advice had spared you a more complicated shape. he acknowledged it with a weak nod but didn’t look up from his task.

˚ ༘♡ the room was filled with the sound of quiet scraping, interspersed with the occasional crack of breaking candy and the deafening gunshots that followed. each failure sent a ripple of fear through the players, the stakes of the game becoming all too real. your hands shook uncontrollably as you traced the edges of the triangle, the needle’s tip scraping against the delicate surface. beads of sweat formed on your forehead, and you had to remind yourself to breathe.

˚ ༘♡ finally, with painstaking caution, you lifted the triangle free from the candy, the edges intact. relief flooded through you, though your hands continued to tremble as you approached one of the masked guards. holding up the completed shape, you waited for his acknowledgment. “player 218, player 017, pass,” the voice from the speaker announced, devoid of emotion.

˚ ༘♡ as you and sang-woo stepped into the expansive player quarters, the dim lighting and echo of murmured conversations created an atmosphere that felt dreadful yet oddly subdued. the space was filled with rows of bunks stacked high, each one occupied by players whose expressions ranged from numb exhaustion to quiet fear. you glanced around briefly before turning your attention to him, your gratitude bubbling to the surface.

˚ ༘♡ “sang-woo, you saved my life,” you said, your voice soft but sincere. the words carried a weight you couldn’t ignore. “i wouldn’t have had the precision or patience to cut out the star. thank you for convincing me to choose triangle.”

˚ ༘♡ he paused mid-step, his shoulders tensing ever so slightly as he turned to look at you. his expression was calm, but there was something unreadable in his gaze, a flicker of thought he didn’t voice. you tilted your head, your curiosity piqued as a question formed in your mind. “did you know it was going to be dalgona?” your voice held both curiosity and suspicion. he was intelligent, brilliant, in fact. it wouldn’t have surprised you if he had pieced together clues that no one else had noticed. but then again, if he had known, wouldn’t he have told his friends?

˚ ༘♡ his lips pressed into a thin line, and for a moment, he looked almost reluctant to answer. “i didn’t,” he said finally, his tone measured and deliberate. “it was a lucky guess, i suppose.” but there was something about the way he said it that left you unconvinced. his words felt too crafted, too careful, as if he were guarding a truth he wasn’t ready to share.

˚ ༘♡ before you could probe further, he shifted the conversation, his gaze tender as he looked at you. “come on,” he said, his voice quieter now. “you look like you’re about to collapse, and i can hardly stay upright myself after how draining that game was. let’s try and relax our nerves.”

˚ ༘♡ you nodded, the tension in your body loosening slightly as his words pulled you away from your thoughts. together, you made your way to an unoccupied bunk in one of the quieter corners of the dormitory. as you sat down, the fatigue of the day hit you like a wave, the adrenaline that had kept you going during the game now fully drained from your system.

˚ ༘♡ sang-woo leaned against the metal frame of the bunk, his arms crossed loosely over his chest. his face was pale under the fluorescent lights, and the dark circles under his eyes betrayed how much the game had taken out of him. for a moment, the silence between you felt almost comfortable, a reprieve from the chaos that had defined the day.

˚ ༘♡ “you know,” you said after a while, your voice barely above a whisper, “i don’t know how you stayed so calm out there. i felt like i was going to fall apart the entire time.”

˚ ༘♡ he let out a low breath, not quite a sigh, as his eyes shifted to the floor. “i wasn’t calm,” he admitted. “i was terrified, but fear doesn’t help you survive. you have to focus, no matter what.” his words were matter-of-fact, but there was an edge to them, a glimpse of the pressure he carried that he rarely allowed others to see.

˚ ༘♡ you studied him for a moment, your gratitude mingling with a growing sense of unease. there was so much about him that remained a mystery, layers of calculation and restraint that made it impossible to fully understand what he was thinking. but for now, you were too tired to dwell on it.

˚ ༘♡ “thank you, sang-woo,” you said again, your voice softer this time. you meant it, not simply for his advice during the game, but for the quiet sense of stability he brought in a world that felt increasingly unmoored.

˚ ༘♡ he gave a faint nod, his lips curving into the barest hint of a smile. “get some rest,” he said, his tone gentle but steadfast. “tomorrow will probably be worse.”

a/n: can you all tell my favorite character is cho sang-woo? don’t worry, part two of the hwang in-house x wife series will be out soon! let me know your thoughts! 🤍

[kaissatou]

Namgyu hcs namgyu hcss, there's almost nothing about him😭😭😭 and I got such a love-hate relationship with this guy so it would be cool something like love-hate related? Maybe headcanons or whatever you like where namgyu and reader aren't even a couple but it's like a hot and cold thing, teasing each other all the time..? IDK HOW TO EXPLAIN IT LMAOOO But yk yk, let your mind flow, it can be nsfw too, however you see fitting!

sorry if this isn’t quite what you wanted lovely, thank you for requesting ♡ afab!reader. not yet proofread!!

fwb!namgyu who never fails to get on your last nerve. He also never fails to milk your gooey little pussy dry. He isn’t your friend- he also isn’t your enemy, but he certainly isn’t your lover.

fwb!namgyu who (lightly) smacks the back of your head whenever he’s behind you purely to annoy you, and totally not to feel the softness of your hands on his chest as you push him away, muttering curses. He hopes you don’t seem to notice the hearts in his eyes, his soft irises suddenly enlarging. You don’t need to see his small grin as he walks off, either.

Constantly going back and forth with fwb!namgyu until he’s pushing you against the wall before you can clock it, his soft lips massaging your own in a sloppy spell, like he’s trying to claim you as his own. Fuck it. You slip a hand into his hair, tangling your fingers between loose strands with a delicious pull that has him- was that a moan? Fuck it. Once can’t hurt.

fwb!namgyu whose got you bent on your bed, back arching in a position that you didn’t know was even possible for you until now. Hips smacking into your own roughly, animalistic grunts filling your ears. A firm hand wrapped around your hair, the pulls adorning your whines as he caresses and cradles that messy sweet spot as he’s balls deep within you. Your face pressed onto the sheets, your overstimulated tears rolling onto the pillow.

It was never just once. After that fateful night it was practically impossible to keep your hands off of each other. Soft touches in the hallway and if you blinked you would’ve missed it, to more obvious things like a loud, breathy kiss the second you open the door and let him in, his limbs intertwining with your own.

fwb!namgyu who used to send you up? messages to you in the middle of the night (hinting that he’s down to fuck) before getting an ounce of dignity. Now, it’s can i come see u?

fwb!namgyu who knows he’s fucked when his mind can’t even imagine teasing you anymore. fwb!namgyu who stays up late at night with your pretty grin wngrained into his mind, the way your eyes curl as he makes you laugh. And then he’s imagining the way your lip curled into a small that one time, and he’s disgusted with himself that he ever let that pretty smile fade. He rolls over to emerge himself into the covers, in hopes of silencing thoughts of you.

fwb!namgyu whose heart drops when you phone him in the middle of one night, the crackle of your shitty network not failing to hide the heart wrenching sobs of yours that had his stomach twisting uncomfortably, his hands itching uncontrollably.

And instantly he’s driving to you before he can stop it, before you can say anything else, his hands gripping the wheel oh so tight, but he can’t even feel it, he can’t even think of anything but you. He’s never done this for a girl before. He’s never done this for you. fwb!namgyu, who’s pretty brown eyes are filled with worry as you let him in, instantly engulfing your sorrow filled frame in a tight embrace.

fwb!namgyu whose heart lets you cry in his arms and whispers pretty words of reassurance to you, a different Namgyu that you knew. A Namgyu that you could grow to…love?

fwb!namgyu who doesn’t seem to annoy you anymore. The same Namgyu whose presence you learn to yearn for. fwb!namgyu who never fails to provide you with flowers whenever he visits. Namgyu who doesn’t visit only for sex anymore, but for movie nights, dinner dates, and things he once deemed before as all too romantic. fwb!namgyu who wants it all, with you.

boyfriend!namgyu whos fucking making love to you so delicately, so softly, so in love, so different from how it was before. boyfriend!namgyu whose got you in missionary, his hair tickling against your neck, his face coming down to your neck, his pretty pink lips adorning your neck. So loving.

Boyfriend!namgyu whose making you take him deeeeep, peppering your face with kisses and shushing your whimpers and whines and moans with i know, I know, shh… His pretty cock filling you to the brim, like the puzzle peice you’ve being missing your whole life.

Boyfriend!namgyu who wakes you up with the smell of coffee and orange juice, your naked body cascaded and hidden like a prize under the soft silk of your duvet, a fullfilled smile hanging lazily on your lips, and the remnant of his kisses. He’ll just have to replace those memories with new ones.

[grandline-fics]

Can you do the nightmare wedding scenario with Luffy, Sanji, and Ussop

DESCRIPTION: They have a nightmare that you marry someone else

WARNINGS: little bit of brief angst/insecurity but it's kept light for the most part

CHARACTERS: Luffy, Usopp | Law, Zoro, | Ace, Shanks, Mihawk, Kid, Katakuri

WORDS: 1,653

A/N: Thank you for the request. I loved the past versions of this prompt so I was happy to return to it. Sadly I wasn't able to think of something unique for Sanji so left it to just Luffy and Usopp. It's my first time writing for Usopp so hopefully I got his character right and that you like what I came up with for this.

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST

———————

LUFFY

Love was a word Luffy knew a great deal about in all of its various meanings and depths. He loved freedom and adventure, discovering each new island and opportunity to explore like a restless electricity ran through his nerves. His love for food and fun was quite literally sating a deep hunger leaving him content and filled. The love he had for his brothers was deep and intense, sadly sometimes painful but it was a hurt he bore willingly and without complaint. His crew and friends brought out a love that left him feeling stronger, fierce, and determined to protect. 

You were all those feelings wrapped into one amazing person that Luffy knew he couldn’t and wouldn’t be without. Being separated from you for two years and losing Ace had been the massive wake up call to his feelings for you. He truly didn’t think he would ever have to endure that sharp twisting feeling of shock and pain when it came to you again. Oh how wrong he was because now here he stood looking at your smiling so brightly and staring at only Trafalgar Law with your entire attention raptly on the other Captain, your hand interwoven and anchored into his; refusing to let go. 

On the one hand, seeing you smile made Luffy want to smile too but on the other hand, why did you have to be looking at his supposed ally like that? Robin had warned him that pirate alliances usually ended up in betrayal but this was a hundred times worse than what he ever could have imagined. Then it got worse when Luffy stared in horror as you and Law exchanged rings and vowed to be each other’s spouse forever and complete the declaration with a kiss. 

With a yell Luffy woke, launching himself out onto the floor. In his dream he’d tried to leap between you and Law before your lips could connect but he had been so tightly invested in it that his actions had carried through his subconscious. Groggily he rubbed his eyes and got to his feet blearily looking around the empty Crow’s Nest. The memory of the dream fresh in his mind, Luffy wasted no further time in racing down the mast and to the sleeping quarters. 

The door slammed open loudly causing you to wake with a jolt, eyes barely opened and alarmed when you felt someone leap onto your bed and grip your shoulders. Instinctively you grabbed the person’s wrists and blinked through your tiredness to become even more confused to see Luffy staring at you intensely. “Wh- what’s… Luffy? What’s wrong?”

“As your Captain you’re not allowed to marry Tra-guy ever!” His order did nothing to help bring you out of the heavy fog of sleep. You scrunched your face up in confusion, you recognised the words but the context of the order just didn’t make sense. 

“Marry Law?” You mumbled with a yawn. “What’d’you mean?”

“I know he’s smart and whatever but this is your crew. You can’t leave-”

“Luffy.” You stopped your Captain with a light squeeze of his hand and smiled at him sleepily. “I’m not leaving the crew, relax.” Your voice was soothing at it was a relief to hear you say you weren’t leaving but still Luffy couldn’t shake the uncomfortable twist in his stomach. 

Feeling your hands over his helped with ridding him of the image of Law’s hands over yours. Luffy took a breath and kept his gaze on you, heavily frowning at your lips, the image of Law’s about to claim yours making him glare. Before you could ask what was wrong you blinked in surprise when Luffy kissed you. It wasn't the first time you’d kissed, your relationship with the Captain was one neither of you really thought to put a label on, just deciding to enjoy how things naturally progressed. This was the first time however that Luffy’s lips pressed against yours so insistently, like he was trying to prove something.

Given his confusing statement about you and Law marrying you could connect the dots now that you’d woken enough. With a smile you pulled back and lifted your hands away to wrap Luffy into a hug and lay back down on the bed. Your smile grew when Luffy adjusted his arms to hold you tightly, your body already feeling the pull to go back to sleep. As you smiled contently you tucked your head under Luffy’s chin, falling back to sleep to the sleepy mumbles of your Captain cursing out Law for being an idiot if he thought he could ever have you.

USOPP

“Usopp! I have to tell someone before I burst!” Your excited voice shot through his concentration as he sat working in his workshop. Immediately Usopp turned to smile at you, his own excitement mirroring yours. You were truly the only one that was capable of stealing his attention no matter what the situation. You slid to a stop in front of him, hands reaching out instinctively to take his into your hold, your excitement only growing with each second. “I can’t believe this is happening!”

“Well come on, tell me already!” Usopp laughed trying to keep you concentrated on the mystery topic that he now couldn’t wait to be part of. 

“I’m getting married!” Your exclamation caused Usopp’s face to freeze in shock, his previous smile twitching into one of disbelief, thinking you were pulling a prank on him. How could you get married? He hadn’t proposed to you yet. While you’d both been together for a while and he loved you, he’d been too much of a coward to say those three little but massive words to you. Mostly he told himself it was too soon, really though he’d convinced himself that if he did confess the full weight of his feelings to you, you’d crush him by saying you didn’t feel the same.

“O-oh! Th-that’s…great!” He forced out tightly, unwilling to see you upset for not taking your news well. “Wh-who’s the lucky guy?“

“That’s the amazing thing!” You all but swooned as you thought about your betrothed. “He’s a real hero and warrior! So brave and strong, you’ll love him! Promise you’ll come to the wedding, please Usopp?” Your request was spoken so sweet and earnestly that again, despite the painful punch to his heart Usopp refused to show it. Unable to say no he ground his teeth together before forcing himself to nod, flinching when you let out a cheer and threw your arms around him to hug him tightly, thanking him.

In the blink of an eye you were no longer hugging him and Usopp was no longer in the workshop. Instead he stood on the deck of the Sunny, hearing the rest of the crew laughing happily as they waited for the wedding to start. Usopp kept his head down, trying to avoid the reality of the situation for as long as he could. When your laughter sounded Usopp slowly looked up and let out a shriek of shock to see who your were marrying standing at the altar, arms folded tightly and face completely hidden by the all too familiar mask. “Sogeking?!” He demanded in disbelief managing to stagger over to you, his head spinning at the development. How was this even possible? “You’re marrying Sogeking?”

“Of course!” You beamed, oblivious to Usopp’s distress as you left Usopp’s side to approach his secret persona. “Look at him. Isn’t he perfect? There’s no one else I’d ever consider marrying. Only him.”

With a gasp Usopp woke and covered his eyes, slowly working on calming his breathing as he realised everything was a dream. Just a stupid dream. Sighing in relief he rolled his eyes at his own silly mind. Of course it was a dream. Then his mind began to stir up uncomfortable thoughts once more. Why were you with a coward like him? He wouldn’t blame you for choosing someone else to marry. Just as he was about to spiral more, he jumped in surprise when you rolled over in your sleep, your arms tightening over his as your lay your head on his shoulder. As if sensing how tense he was, you stirred and woke with a small sleepy hum. “Usopp?”

“I’m okay…”

“Liar.” You sleepily mumbled, pulling yourself closer lifting your head up to press a small kiss to his cheek. “Bad dream?”

“Yeah…” Usopp sighed, moving to hold you close. You always could see through him. Swallowing hard, he began to think of the deeper meaning the dream must have had and cleared his throat. Bracing himself he blurted out. “I love you.”

“Usopp.” Usopp flinched and prepared himself for your rejection but it didn’t come. Instead you sat up to face him fully, smiling happier than he’d ever seen you show before. “I love you too.”

“Thank goodness! I thought you’d call me an idiot or something…” He sighed with a nervous laugh. You smiled softly, shaking your head at your boyfriend’s timid nature. You knew he could be brave when he needed to be, it was just a shame he didn’t have the same amount of faith in himself that you had in him. “Also, you should know I’m Sogeking. No one else. If anyone says they are, they’re lying. Okay?”

You stared at Usopp in surprise. You and everyone on the crew- except for Luffy and Chopper- knew that Usopp was Sogeking. It was obvious but you didn’t have the heart to disappoint him by telling him that so instead you slowly nodded. “Thank you for trusting me with the truth. You really must love me to tell me that.”

“Of course I do!” Usopp declared, offering you a proud grin as you kissed his forehead and lay back down, allowing him to hold you close and sleep dreams better than his last one.

——————————————-

TAG LIST (If I’ve missed anyone or if you want to be added just let me know) @3v37773, @tsaaps , @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy , @sanemisnonexistenteyebrow , @fiery-captain-spider-santa, @kabloswrld , @atanukileaf , @ane5e , @stuckinthewrongworld , @deathsmajestysworld , @cloudysunset04 , @chillerkiller , @extremely-ashtridic , @decayingpizza , @liesatemyocean , @ace-for-ace , @nerium-lil , @destynelseclipsa , @dreamcastgirl99 , @my-name-is-heartache , @iamn1ya ,  @yunho-leeknow , @hinata7346 , @h0oouwlss , @missrandomdreamer , @sleepykittycx , @ddawn111 , @jaygrl22 , @sylum , @acehyacinth , @resident-cryptid , @treelogirl , @maellem , @its-a-dam-blue-brick , @thulhu , @appalost

[iwashie]

𝙄 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙄 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙩𝙚𝙭𝙩 𝙢𝙮 𝙚𝙭

Imagine Sevika breaking up with you; breaking your heart again as she sees your eyes fill with tears as you grabbed only a jacket and left her apartment, slamming the door on your way out and never coming back. She was sure she was doing the right thing. It was the best for you two, especially for you to stay away from problems. 

She had to get used to the new routine of coming home late at night and entering an empty apartment without your presence welcoming her home with a kiss, and the table set with delicious food, without your laugh and warmth, calling her by the pet names. 

While you sank in sadness, crying every night, thinking where you two went wrong, missing Sevika, she spent nights on end at the brothel, filling your empty space with another face, body, warmth, kiss and touches, just to still feel empty and lonely. But she faced her decision without regrets, without getting in touch, avoiding all the places you two could run into each other. 

She had to send your stuff back through Ran since you refused to go to her place to pick it up; all of your things were boxed in your living room when you came home from work. That was a definitive end to what you two were. 

That night, Sevika almost got kicked out of the brothel because of the chaotic situation she was in; sobbing and drunkenly calling for you, throwing punches at the men. 

You grow used to the new life, accepting her decision and moving on with your life, also avoiding all the places you could see her. Spending months without seeing each other, quietly living the new single life.

Just to one day while Sevika was strolling through the streets she listened to your laugh coming from nearby, and her heart stopped for a minute, the feeling of miss filling her. She followed your voice, hoping to see you after all this time, and make small talk with you; after all, you’re a Zaun citizen and she cares for her people. She stopped and her smirk died when saw you laughing, receiving a bouquet of flowers and getting hit on by another woman.

Sevika felt like hit by a punch, seeing you accept the flowers and touch the woman. Her world slowly crumbling at her feet as she felt a grip on her heart and her head filled with your image welcoming her home, your smiling face, your laugh, your shine eyes, your touches and kisses, your voice calling her and your body moving inside her apartment, dancing in the kitchen with her jazz disco collection, your body dancing on her hands while you two made love. She could feel your body glued on hers, your arms and legs tangled on her body while your face is crushed against her chest, and all the domestic moments you two lived. All of it disappears while she’s alone in her room, your scent long gone, the apartment empty and dark without your shining presence there, making her happy and loved.

The memories hitting her differently.

Sevika felt triggered knowing that someone out there is buying you roses, possibly making you happy the way she couldn’t, that you moved on like you had enough, quitting her like a cigarette. And now she’s six feet deep seeing roses everywhere, killing her that someone is stealing her girl for good and she can do nothing about it. 

Sevika was in front of your door, banging on it, hoping not to see that woman with you, and when you opened, your face rapidly changing, she was speechless for a while. What was she doing at your door late at night, maybe drunk, holding a bouquet of flowers and looking at you with anticipation, her words stuck to her throat. 

“Think I got it bad if i’m honest, thought that I was good, turns out that I’m a little far from it. You didn’t call me. You moved on… And I am still stuck in the past, overthinking my actions and words, they were all lies.”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms over your chest, and Sevika gulped, her eyes scanning everywhere just to stop at your pretty face. She opened her mouth and closed again, gesturing her arms.

“I saw you with that woman and I… I went crazy. I was a fool to break up with you. I can’t live without you… I’m so fucking empty without you. Everything reminds me of you and I just think about the good time we had together. I… Doll, I need you.”

You uncrossed your arms, stepped outside your house and grabbed the bouquet she extended to you, smelling the flowers; your favorite flowers and your perfume that never came from her house. 

“Baby, please… give me another chance.” She begged, almost kneeling in front of you. “Give us another chance. Please.” 

You shook your head, a little sigh escaping your mouth as you passed the bouquet to one arm and with the other pulled her to you. Your lips touching in a soft kiss as her hands find its place on your waist, bringing you closer. “I hate you, Sevika.”

“But I love you, doll. And now you’re stuck with me forever.” She said, giving you a lingering peck and pushing you inside your house, closing the door with her foot.

@iwashie 2025, please do not translate, modify or republis my works

[jeongin-lvr]

ׅ⠀⠀ ֺ⠀⠀ ࣭⠀⠀⠀⟡ sloppy, c. yeonjun

꒰ 🗯️ ꒱ 𝖻𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝖺𝗇𝗒 𝗉𝗅𝗈𝗍，𝗂 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝖺𝖻 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗉𝗉𝗒 𝗌𝖾𝗑 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖻𝗈𝗌𝗌！𝗃𝗃𝗎𝗇，𝖽𝗈𝗆！𝗒𝖾𝗈𝗇𝗃𝗎𝗇，𝗉𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗋 𝖽𝗒𝗇𝖺𝗆𝗂𝖼𝗌，𝗌𝖾𝗆𝗂－𝗉𝗎𝖻𝗅𝗂𝖼 𝗌𝖾𝗑，𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗋 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀，𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀，𝗉𝗈𝗌𝖾��𝗌𝗂𝗏𝖾！𝗃𝗃𝗎𝗇，𝗌𝗂𝗋 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗄，𝗇𝗂𝗉𝗉𝗅𝖾 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗒．UNEDITED.

[ 𝟣．𝟦𝗄 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌 ] ★ [ 𝖽𝗈 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗍 ] ★ [ 𝗆．𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍 ]

THE WAY YOUR BOSS treats you is so inappropriate. Your coworkers always tell you, anyway. But you don’t see the harm in what he does at all! Whenever he leaves lingering touches on your arm it’s innocent, and those stare-downs he throws your way are just that! There’s definitely not a hint of anything more behind those moments the both of you share. Mr. Choi is a very nice man who treats you very nicely, especially for a boss. Who are you to complain?

In hallways when you pass by each other he sends you warm smiles and maybe if he’s feeling extra kind, a wink. But when you’re called to his office to offer some help with paperwork or to have a quick chat, your coworkers start to think it’s not as simple as that. Especially after the umpteenth time today! It’s ridiculous at this point how many times you’d been phoned into his office, behind secluded walls, tinted glass door. Leaving everything to the imagination of your colleagues. Can you blame them for being curious? You didn’t care much for their speculations; that being said, you didn’t pay much attention to them anyway.

You didn’t intend on explaining yourself to them nor did you intend on telling them the truth behind those subtle glances and fleeting touches. In the public eye, it just seemed a bit weird, however, being closed doors it was soooo much more complex.

But… they are right about one thing! There’s definitely more to all of it. Getting called to the big, bad bosses office at random hours throughout the day, leaving work at the same time in the same damn car as Mr. Choi, the oddly close relationship. There really wasn’t much effort put into hiding it; stupidly, you denied all the very true rumors and speculation. What else were you to do?

They didn’t need to know any details of all the times you’d spent laid out on your filthy bosses desk, clad in nothing but your glasses and torn panties. Or those times you’d sit prettily under his desk on your calves, stuffing your mouth with his thick length, just trying to help him de stress because he’s such a good boss! He works to hard, you always tell him that. Mr. Choi is sweet with you too, calling you princess, darling, doll… all the sweet pet names under the sun because he can. He dotes on you, and treats you so well. That’s not to say he isn’t filthy with you when it comes to sex— he’ll take you like a drug; cussing and degrading you all while calling you the most beautiful woman in the same sentence. It’s a perfect balance of both, always making your toes curl. Whatever he says goes and your reward is all the benefits of being his star employee. Rides to and from work, extra pay, good dick— what’s not to love?

You’re not even sure how long this has been going on; who’s keeping track anymore? But you’d have to guess not too long after you landed the job… it happened a little too naturally.

One call into his office, a sly glance as he looked you over. Like he had been studying you. Slithering and curling over your body with a daunting gaze of power and intensity. It was hard not to buckle and fold. Mr. Choi just had this natural energy of dominance, so it’s no surprise the way he acts in bed (mostly on top of his work desk). He’s yucky in the best way.

“Sir, s—“ You’re cut off by a sudden thrust upward, your head jolting backward and hitting his firm shoulder with a soft thud. You moan, working yourself out of the fog that slowly diluted your mind.

Mr. Choi leaned back behind you, his chest pressing into your back as he let out a raspy chuckle, amused by the soft sounds of glee that fell past your lips. “What, doll?” His hands slipped up your waist, ignoring the stinging hand prints on your thighs and hips, groping your freed tits with his big, cold hands. The shocking steel of his rings hitting your perked nipples and forcing a gasp out of your throat. The cold jewelry felt stunning, momentarily leaving you frozen.

You recalled all of your coworkers asking you where you disappear to… all their quizzical stares and perplexed questions. You knew they knew. It bugged you that they knew. It didn’t before but for some reason their stares changed. More shameless with their knowledge. Like they were judging you for being so, well, obvious.

New red hickeys decorating your neck every time you left Mr. Choi’s office. Your excuses piled up like tickets. You’re sure there’s not a single excuse you haven’t used yet.

“Speak, darling, tell me what’s on your mind,” Mr, Choi grasped your tit hard, tugging at your nipple as he thrusted upward yet again, resulting in your entire body jolting in shock at the pleasure. Your glasses crooked and fogging now, your cliche red lipstick smeared and decorated over his lips and jaw. It was like a cliche porno. You could almost laugh if it weren’t for the thick inches filling and emptying you over and over. One of your bosses wandering hands slipped off of your tit and gripped your chin, squishing your lips into a stupid pout as he uncomfortably tilted your head backward, giving you a lovely glimpse at his sweaty, stoic face. His eyebrows scrunched and his full lips pulled into a parted O. He looked at you expectantly, still awaiting your response.

“Sir, m’ worried,” You paused, chasing your breath desperately, “S-someone will hear—“

He scoffed in your face, making you feel small and pathetic. Your eyes fluttering as he continued to pump himself up into you. The sounds of your leaky, full pussy sucking his deliciously thick dick was nasty and made your mind spin endlessly. Your eyes almost crossing as you fought for your consciousness.

“Who fuckin’ cares, doll?” Mr. Choi gripped your face harder, “Let them hear.”

“B-but—“

Your boss groaned, sloppily leaning in for your lips, kissing you as if he just wanted you to shut up (he did). You reciprocated instantly, melting into him in every single way. Your knees ached from how you sat propped over him, your eyes burned with a wave of intensely pleasured tears, every inch of your body was sore.

“M’ your boss, baby, you don’t gotta worry about nothing…” He spoke into your mouth, his movements jerky now, everything so sloppy and dirty. You felt arousal pool down your legs, probably staining his seat a deeper shade. The way he spoke was so reassuring, or maybe you’re just too fucked out to argue. Your body spoke for you, pussy clenching hard around him, moving back down on his pretty dick.

Mr. Choi chuckled as he pulled out of your kiss. Despite how messy the moment was, he somehow looked relatively put together in his neatly pressed suit, his somehow still sexy even though you’d run your fingers through the hair and ruined the product more times than you could count. Your eyes were unfocused but you could very clearly still make out the decoration of bright red lipstick all over your flushed skin. His white button down just a tad disheveled and his tie loosened.

You whisper now, “You’re the boss…”

“Yeah, and you’re m’ fucking you,” Yeonjun laughed almost in disbelief, “So that means you d-don’t have to worry your pretty lil head.”

You nodded dumbly, engulfed in the pleasure now, “Yes, sir.”

“Yeah, that’s right, beautiful,” He wrapped his hands around your waist, upping his pace while panting into your ear, “Let em all hear how good I fuck my pretty girl…” He growled now, his hands tight as he pulled you up and down his dick, ignoring your whimpers of how overstimulating it was. Mr. Choi watched your ass bounce on his thick length, the slight divot and arch in your back capturing his attention. You naked and laid out for him so nicely while he sat dressed apart from his cock had to be the best part. It was you at his mercy. Completely and totally for his pleasure.

Your moans became higher, quicker, deep from within your tummy as he filled you. You felt that hot and heavy ball of your orgasm fill your lower stomach, swelling and swelling as his leaky tip hit your g-spot over and over again. One hit after the other leaving your eyes fluttering as you allowed yourself to get overwhelmed. Your red hot nails digging into his wrist, panting his name and endless pleas.

“Yeah? Do I fuck ya real good, darling? Mm, tell me how good it feels. Be as loud as you want, ah, let everyone hear ya.”

Your bosses potty mouth only send vibrations to your core, every movement he made was overwhelming your senses in a way you couldn’t explain. You couldn’t even begin to speak without being interrupted by your own moans. Mr. Choi grabbed your waist, swiftly standing in one fluid, hurried motion. He quickly laid you backward onto his desk, not minding anything in the way, letting pens and paper fall to the floor in a mess.

The new angle was providing you with sensations you’d never felt before. Your eyes were crossing, vision blurry. His movements only increased, quicker, needier. Everything he gave you was perfection, hitting and grinding and rubbing against every part of you so nicely. You whisper his name, begging for something, anything. Silent ‘sirs’ falling past your lips, only making his lips curl.

“Yes, sir, fuck me s-so good!” Any thoughts you had about anyone hearing was forgotten now. Pleasure controlled you; mouth running in babbling moans as your nails began to dig into the fabric of his shirt.

Mr. Choi curled his fingers around your jaw, tilting your head upward to get access to your sensitive neck, covering your skin in spit and sloppy kisses.

Your glasses, foggy and lopsided, began to fall backward until they lay crooked on your forehead, only making your boss smile. He was amused by your disheveled state, clearly. Enraptured by how simple it was to get you off.

He kissed your neck, then your collarbone, anywhere your skin gave him access. He mumbled against your skin, “My pretty little slut, can’t get enough of th-this pussy… mm, so good to your boss.” He nibbled on the flesh of your breast, sucking a deep, dark circle into your skin just to listen to how you whimpered.

“S-sir, I’m g’na— fuck!” Your eyes rolled and your mouth widened before you could even manage to get the words out.

“Go ahead,” He coerced with a smirk, his full lips pressing into your skin as he thrusted into you deeper. He watched you unravel with hungry eyes, surely not ready to give up the sight of you falling apart. He didn’t even blink, his eyes burned, but he didn’t care. He needed to see you cum on his cock. He wanted it so badly. “Squeezing me so tight— fuck, baby, good girl…” He managed to rip himself away from your skin, grinning so widely as he peered down at where your bodies met. A gorgeous ring of white around his dick as he pumped into you, your back arching and face scrunched.

Your hand pressed into his chest, tugging at his tie desperately to try and get him to slow down. Only it seemed to do the opposite. He sped up his pace with a grin, maniacally thrusting into you.

“Oh, but m’ not done, sweetheart,” He gripped your wrist as you whined, “My turn now, okay? Let me handle it…”

[mononijikayu]

fairy of shampoo — ryomen sukuna.

“No, I doubt that.” he murmured, his voice dropping further as his eyes trailed over you, taking in every detail of his creation on your body. “I didn’t outdo myself. You did. You made it come alive. Well, you always have.” He reached out, his fingers brushing the edge of the fabric near your shoulder, the touch light yet searing. “This was always meant for you. No one else could’ve worn it like this.” There was a beat of silence, heavy and charged, before he added, “Do you know how hard it was to sit out there and watch everyone look at you like that?” You raised a brow, your smile teasing now. “Jealous already, ‘kuna?”

GENRE: alternate universe - fashion world au!;

WARNING/S: afab! reader, love at first sight, co-workers to lovers, romance, nsfw, rated 18 and above, explicit content, kissing, making out, rough sex, fingering, p to v sex, backstage/greenroom sex, orgasm, humor, pet names (angel, sweetie, etc), devotion, possessiveness, jealousy, characters speaking in sexual innuendo, mention of sexual euphemisms, depiction of explicit sexual content, fashion designer! ryomen sukuna, super model! reader;

WORD COUNT: 5k words.

NOTE: i wrote the first part of this while on instagram live and continued to write, but then i forgot to do a live about this again and passed out from more cold medicine. the cold weather isn't really helping my case either. but im feeling much better now!!! though, i kept changing titles too, cause im indecisive. but of course txt saves the day with fairy of shampoo.

i adore this song a lot. also, if you are curious, this was something i was imagining for a while as an au to concubine reader and sukuna. like in another live, he would be a former underground fighter who fell for model reader. in any case, i hope you enjoy it. i love you all!!! see you on the 10th!!!

masterlist

if you want to, tip! <3

HE DOESN’T THINK HE’S EVER SEEN SOMEONE LIKE YOU BEFORE. He felt his breath hitch, the steady rhythm in his chest faltering as if the very air had thickened, demanding more effort to draw in.

The crowd was roaring around him, but the noise seemed muted, far away, like a distant wave crashing on an unseen shore. All he could focus on was you, the commanding force you carried with every step.

It wasn’t just the way you moved — it was the raw, magnetic energy emanating from you. Each step struck the floor like a declaration, a drumbeat echoing through the cavern of his mind, drowning out every other thought.

He tried to remind himself to blink, to exhale, to ground himself in something other than the overwhelming pull of you, but it was no use. When it comes to you, there was no winning.

When you reached the center of the stage, you turned slowly, your gaze sweeping over the audience like a stormfront rolling in. Then, for the briefest moment, your eyes landed on his.

He felt like a man struck by lightning. The fire in your gaze seared through him, sharp and unyielding, leaving no room for the walls he’d so carefully built. He was laid bare, every defense stripped away, and for the first time in his life, he didn’t mind.

As quickly as it had come, the moment passed, and you turned your attention elsewhere, leaving him in the wreckage of his composure. His heart was racing, pounding against his ribs like it was trying to escape, and he could only wonder how someone could hold so much power without even trying.

Control? Composure? He realized now how fragile those concepts truly were.

Everything about you screamed majesty. It was obvious you knew what you were doing and it was obvious that you were doing it with so much passion, so much pride, so much expertise. If it was not clear now, it would be obvious to all now that it was you who ran this world. 

And you had no problem trying to show that to everyone. Everything about what you were doing could only exude wonder people cannot explain. Especially when you walked. Ryomen Sukuna knew this from the first time he saw you walk. 

He could somehow remember the first time he’s seen you walk on a runway. He wasn’t yet the person he was at this time. Ryomen Sukuna remembers that he was a rough man, a brutish man. Someone whose hands were at one point made for destruction more than they were for anything relating to creation. 

These hands were born for nothing good at all. These were born from nothing and then for violence. For most of his life, he was sure that they were made for nothing else but pouring blood on the concrete in rough fistful bouts than they were for wanting to understand the language of fabrics and colors. 

Sukuna was all too certain that he wasn’t someone who he himself thought was even worthy of being in your presence then. You wouldn’t have liked the man he was then.

If he didn’t, then you would certainly not like him too. But he liked to think that this was the moment his life changed. He could remember it so very clearly, that moment. 

He could recall it all, if you asked. Every little detail. His bloody hands fumbled with the remote control, the echo of his fingers pressing the buttons whiplashed as he tried to find something worth watching. Nothing was worth watching, nothing was worth looking forward to. One after another, the button pressed only to lead to disappointment. 

Then, he stopped. 

You were the first thing he saw. He blinked as he found himself staring at this moment. It was like you owned the runway. Your long silver stilettos click and clack across the steps,the fine texture of the shimmering silver dress blossomed like moonlight right in front of him. It was like an epiphany when he watched you come towards him through the screen. 

Your bright blossoming eyes narrowed sharply as you stopped at the center, posing masterfully for the audiences and then for the cameras. He could feel the hairs on his body stand up as he walked closer to the screen. Almost a second after, you had smiled at the crowd. 

For a moment, Ryomen Sukuna had thought that this belonged to him. Your smile, your gaze, your pose. He had felt like you had been longing for him.  Calling for him to come and join you. Beckoning him closer by your side. Almost as though you were commanding him like the goddess of the moon you were in that moment. 

He wished that moment had lasted much longer. But as you finished your moment, it was your turn to walk away. Disappointment slowly seeped into him as he watched you go, the train of your metallic silver gown flowing behind you like moonshine withdrawing from the slithering darkness. 

You were so beautiful, so bright and gorgeous. For a moment, he didn’t even think you were real. He couldn’t believe that such a being like you could ever exist. He couldn’t believe that such a being like you could ever bless him with your wonders, even for just a moment. From that moment, he was awestruck. 

But it’s not like Ryomen Sukuna could not help himself in wanting you. You were life itself for him from that moment. And he couldn’t help but live in the world you made. He could not help but want to know you. To know more of your wonder. To be there in the room where it happened, watching you command the world with each and every step only you could make. 

One could call him insane for believing that this was the moment that changed his life. That you, who he had never known, would ever change his life. Yet, it was true. You had made him your most adoring servant.

And he had made you his master, his lifelong muse. He knew that he didn’t have any skills to dress you, his goddess, just yet. But if there was something Ryomen Sukuna knew, it was that everything can be learned. And you would guide him how.

He could recall how he stood up from his couch that night and washed his bloody hands on his sink. He cleaned every bit of it. By the time he finished, he found his hands clean enough. And with that he felt satisfied.

He dried his hands with the dry cloth, watching the bloody water drain down the sink. He knew that he had to have clean hands, for you. He can’t dress you if his hands are dirty with blood. He won’t soil you. No, he won’t soil his goddess. 

The click of the cameras brought him back to reality. You stopped at the center of the runway and posed. You look at the side dramatically, your jaw sharp against the glow of stage lights. You had fun as you brushed the loose hair back on your ear, trying to showcase the fine sapphire earrings encrusted with diamonds.  

People were in awe as you stood there, the leather covered fingers tracing your beautiful face as you showcased the fine red silky flow of the shimmering strapped dress bejeweled in fine rubies and sapphires and its majestic slit at the hem forcing your fine leg forward, the heel of your shoe just as magnificent with its intricate design. 

Everything about it was a perfect fit — as it should. Ryomen Sukuna could only think to himself about how proud he was that it looked good on you. Red was certainly made to be your color. The color he had so loved, the color he knew you had come to love just as much when you looked into his scarlet eyes too. 

Sukuna’s smirk deepened as he watched the crowd, their collective awe painting a smug satisfaction across his sharp features. They didn’t just see a veteran model on the catwalk; they saw his vision, his devotion, his muse brought to life. They saw life form before their eyes.

It wasn’t just about the clothing, no. It was about you, his precious muse. You carried his work like no one else could, not just wearing the piece but embodying it, giving it a presence that no other model could match. Every step you took whispered of elegance, screamed of confidence, and radiated the unshakable power he had designed into every stitch.

He leaned further back in his chair, one leg draped casually over the other, his fingers tapping a slow rhythm against his arm. Sukuna’s mind flickered back to the nights spent creating the masterpiece you now wore. The hours he poured over sketches, fabrics, and details, all with you in mind. The fire in his chest when inspiration struck, always tied to the thought of you — your silhouette, your essence, your wonder.

It was a dangerous thing, he knew, to let himself feel this much for anyone. It was even more grievous when one thinks about how crazy he is, obsessed with you. But as he watched you claim the stage as though you owned it, as though you owned him, he couldn’t bring himself to care. If anyone deserved his best, it was you.

And now, seeing you carry with pride what he had envisioned, the culmination of his work, his smirk twisted into something softer, something almost reverent. His scarlet eyes could only glint with a mixture of pride and possessiveness.

Because this wasn’t just a fashion show, not to him. This was his world laid bare, his unspoken devotion stitched into fabric, and you, his muse, standing at the center of it all. And he could care less about anything else. This was what mattered. Nothing more will satisfy him than you.

Let them look. He thought, his scarlet gaze darkening further. Let them be captivated. 

But they should know this — the vision, the brilliance, the art? 

It was his. And so were you.

And you just as well knew it too.

He was yours too, after all.

The moment the show ended,  Ryomen Sukuna slipped through the mass of the crowd, his stride purposeful as he made his way backstage. The buzz of the event, the voices, and the clinking of glasses faded into white noise as he navigated through assistants, models, and photographers. 

They all parted instinctively for him — whether out of respect, fear, or both, he didn’t care. Why should he care at this moment? He had something else much more important in mind, after all. Nothing can compare to that, to you.

He found you standing alone, the chaos of the backstage swirling around but never touching you. You were a picture of composed beauty, your magnificent  features illuminated by the soft backstage lighting. The masterpiece you wore still clung to you, the fabric shimmering as though it held its own light.

You didn’t notice him at first, too engrossed in adjusting one of the intricate details of the outfit, but the shift in the air told you he was there. You looked up, your tender gaze locking with his, and in that instant, the world seemed to narrow in this cage you had always made for just the two of you. Your lips perk up into a small sly smile.

Sukuna let the door swing shut behind him, the sound muffled by the hum of the outside world. The room felt smaller now, the space between you crackling with an intensity that mirrored the one you’d commanded onstage. He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms casually, though the smirk on his lips betrayed the hunger in his gaze.

“Stunning, as always.” he said, his voice low and deliberate. “But then, you already know that.”

You tilted your head, meeting his smirk with a soft smile of your own. “The design does most of the work. You outdid yourself, Sukuna.”

His smirk deepened as he pushed off the wall, closing the distance between you in a few slow steps. You shake your head at him, your smile getting bigger too. He was about to have another one of his antics, for certain.

“No, I doubt that.” he murmured, his voice dropping further as his eyes trailed over you, taking in every detail of his creation on your body. “I didn’t outdo myself. You did. You made it come alive. Well, you always have.”

He reached out, his fingers brushing the edge of the fabric near your shoulder, the touch light yet searing. “This was always meant for you. No one else could’ve worn it like this.”

There was a beat of silence, heavy and charged, before he added, “Do you know how hard it was to sit out there and watch everyone look at you like that?”

You raised a brow, your smile teasing now. “Jealous already, ‘kuna?”

His chuckle was dark and low, the kind that sent shivers down your spine. “Jealous? Maybe. But more than that…” His hand slid from the fabric to your jaw, tilting your beautiful face up to his. 

His scarlet eyes burned with something raw, something possessive. “I just wanted to remind you to come by and tell you, like I always do. All of this, the applause, the stares, the admiration... none of it matters. Because at the end of the day, you’re mine. No one else can have you but me.”

The air between you thickened, you could feel your pulse quickening as his blunt words hung in the space. His thumb brushed against your tender cheek, and soon enough, his face echoed a small smirk against his beautiful lips, one that you were certain was softer this time. But of course, you were just as certain that it wasn’t less intense.

“And don’t you dare forget it, hm?” he added, his voice barely above a whisper, before leaning in to close the distance between you.

“I will never forget.” You hummed back to him, just as sweetly. Just as venomous. “Just as you never forget that I am the only muse for you, hm?”

He laughs, the tone rich and eager as his eyes narrowed at you. “And when have I ever forgotten that, hm? Ten years of my life given to you so far, and you’ll have the rest of it too. You don’t have to worry about me leaving you.”

You couldn’t help but laugh aloud this time. “Hm, then you are my prisoner now.”

“I always have been….. I am always willing to be, sweetie.”

He grabbed your hand, his grip firm but not forceful, and guided you through the bustling backstage chaos. You followed without question, the dress flowing into the brush of wind as you made your place elsewhere. You could feel your heart racing as he weaved through the narrow halls with singular focus, while still holding onto you, no matter what.

He didn’t stop until the two of you reached your green room. With a swift glance to ensure no one had followed, he shut the door behind you, the lock clicking into place with a finality that made your breath hitch. You looked at him and then he looked back at you, almost as though time had frozen between the two of you.

The room was quieter here, dimly lit and far removed from the noise of the show. The faint hum of the loud music leaked through the walls, but it only added to the charged atmosphere between you. Ryomen Sukuna took a breath before starting to get closer to you, his intense scarlet gaze pinning you to the spot. 

It was as though your throat had all but closed. You felt yourself standing there as he made his way to you and then stopped. The space between the two of you had all but evaporated into nothing. You pursed your lip into a line and then shook your head into a small smile.

His scarlet glint lingered, locking with your gaze, a mischievous gleam dancing within his eyes. Slowly, he lowered himself before you, hands deftly reaching for the ties that bound you to your heels. The heels he had designed just for you.

You knew you could do it yourself. But he refused to let you do it, even when he has to get to you later on, he would get some sort of way when he didn’t do it for you. For so long now, you have never been able to take your shoes off by yourself. He wouldn’t allow it.

After all, it was a ritual he insisted on. It was something he had done even when he was first designing clothes tailored just for you. And you had long stopped having any qualms about it.

Every time he did this for you, whether after the runaway or some time else, there was always this calm. It was always a quiet moment of devotion woven into the fabric of your bond each and every single time.

An angel like you shouldn’t have to stoop to something like this, sweetie. He had said back then, his lips curving into a playful smile as his attention remained on your feet. Only devils like me should kneel, taking on tasks as lowly as this.

Now, as his fingers worked to free you from the delicate binds, he couldn’t help but hum. You could feel his mumblings be rough and edged with something untamed and all at once, the warmest of spring days and tenderest of breaths. You obediently look upon him as he carefully removes them from your feet. 

“You’ve been driving me insane all night, sweetie.” He set your shoes aside, tucking them where they wouldn’t catch another soul’s attention. His scarlet eyes roved up to yours, filled with longing. “Everything you do, even now... You just woo me to no end.”

You shivered under his gaze, feeling the intensity of his words wrap around you like a warm, intoxicating haze. His hands, calloused yet deliberate, brushed against your ankles as he adjusted your footing, ensuring you could stand without strain. Even in such a simple gesture, his care for you felt all-consuming.

“You have always imprisoned me, you know that? But tonight…..you really have mastered it.” he snickers, his tone dipping lower, velvet and gravel in equal measure. 

“I have.” You muttered back at him, smiling at him as sweetly as you could. “Don’t you like it that way? Your muse gives you everything, artist of mine.”

“I did. I always do. I loved tonight most, I should say.” His lips curled into a smirk that sent a rush of heat through your chest. “Every glance, every move—it’s like you’ve cast some wicked spell. And here I am, completely at your mercy.”

He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin, his hands still lingering just a moment too long on your legs. The proximity was enough to make your heart race, yet he stopped short of closing the distance, his teasing nature keeping you on edge.

“And the worst part?” he added, his voice softening but losing none of its weight. “I don’t even mind. Your devil craves more—he begs, over and over, to be your fool willingly.”

He stood, fluid and graceful, the motion commanding yet intimate. Your eyes blossomed as you looked towards him, unable to move. You felt as though you were being consumed by him. You felt like you were consumed by his wonder, by his soul, by his everything. Like you always have been. Like you always want to be.

His fine lips hovered near yours, daring but unyielding, as though he relished the tension he had so masterfully wrought. Every second seemed to stretch into eternity, leaving you breathless, waiting, wanting—until finally, he whispered back to you. 

“Tell me, my angel... How long are you going to keep me like this?”

Before you could respond, his calloused hands were on you. One sliding around your waist, the other cradling the back of your neck. His precious lips crashed against yours with a hunger that left no room for hesitation. It was a kiss that demanded everything from you, one that poured out all the frustration, admiration, and possessiveness he’d kept in check throughout the show.

You melted into him, your tender hands finding their way to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his coat and then his shirt as you kissed him back with equal fervor. His touch was everywhere, his hands tracing the curve of your waist, the line of your back, pulling you closer as though he couldn’t stand even an inch of distance between you.

The kiss deepened, his lips parting yours as his tongue sought entry, exploring, claiming. You gasped against him, and he took the opportunity to tilt your head back, giving him better access as he pressed you against the cool wall, pinning you against it.

“You were perfect, sweetie. You truly are.” he muttered against your lips, his voice a gravelly whisper. “You have no idea how you burn me alive.”

Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling slightly, earning a low growl from him that sent heat pooling in your stomach. “I think I’m starting to get the whole of it, ‘Kuna.” you teased breathlessly, your words cut off as he captured your lips again. “But….I wouldn’t mind knowing more about it.”

The air around you was thick with the scent of him, a mix of that one of a kind expensive mint cologne and a little bit of cinammon, something he had become fond of because of you. Everything about it was unmistakably your Sukuna.

The world outside the green room ceased to exist — no crowd, no cameras, no responsibilities to the world. It was just the two of you, tangled together, consumed by the fire you’d stoked in each other. Consumed by the very word that both of you couldn’t fathom saying to the other. 

When he finally pulled back, the string of your connection bellowed you in parting. You looked at him intently as you gathered yourself. Both of you were breathless, wanton in your desire. You found your lips swollen and your heart pounding to no end. 

Soon enough, he drew you closer and let his forehead rested against yours intently, his hands still firmly on your waist, holding you as if he feared you’d vanish.

“You’re so ardently beautiful, angel of mine.” he said again, his voice a husky promise. “Always. My only muse.”

“And you’re just as cunningly sweet, devil.” you replied, your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions coursing through you. “You’re the only one who can be my artist.”

“You’re quite possessive tonight, aren’t you?”

You hummed back to him. “Don’t you already know that I am vile when it comes to you and smiling at other women?”

His smirk returned at your words. You rolled your eyes at his smirk, but your own eyes were too playful to suggest anything else. Your lover’s smirk turned softer soon, as your hands rested around his neck. But it was obvious that it was  just as dangerous. Soon enough, he leaned in to kiss you again, passionately slower this time, as if savoring the moment.

The green room felt impossibly small, the charged energy between you crackling like a live wire. Sukuna’s hands roamed your body with a confidence that left you breathless, his touch igniting a fire in your veins. His lips trailed from your mouth to your jaw, down the curve of your neck, leaving a heated path in their wake.

Your back pressed against the cool wall, a small breath releasing from your lips. You could feel the difference when you pressed against his body, though. Now more so when he had all but taken everything off, naked as the day he was born. It was truly a stark contrast to the endless heat and pleasure just radiating from his body and onto yours. 

He held you firmly, his strong calloused hands gripping your voluptuous hips closer as though grounding himself in you. His hot breath was heavy against your skin, his sharp teeth grazing the sensitive spots on your skin that made you shiver and arch into him.

"’kuna, you….." you whispered, your voice trembling with both anticipation and need.

He chuckled darkly, his lips curling into a wicked smirk against your neck. "Say it louder for me." he demanded, his voice dripping with authority and raw desire. “I love hearing from you.”

You barely had time to respond before his hand slid lower onto your body,  finding the silky fabric in his way. His brow raised for a moment. He had put himself in a conundrum, at times. He likes dressing you in everything he thinks of and creates. And yet, he just as much loves to see it off your body. 

With a swift, deliberate motion, he tugged at the silky material, his eager movements ever so impatient yet precise. When your lover found your bare skin, you couldn’t help but gasp, throwing your head to the side slightly, clutching onto his shoulders for support.

It didn’t take long before your lover found himself pressing himself closer, the thick heat of his touch teasing at the warmth of your entrance. He paused, his warm scarlet eyes locking with your own, searching for permission in your gaze. Even when he leads, he knows an angel will always be the one on top, not him, not the devil.

You nodded, your bruised lips parting as you whispered back at him. "Please. Please, my devil."

From there, you could only find that the tension had all but snapped. He pushed into you with a slow, deliberate force that had you throwing your head back against the wall. A loud pleasured cry escaped your eager lips as his throbbing tip pressed against your walls with such a mean, unrelenting precision. 

You could only ever feel so full with the way he was easily stretching you in a way that was both overwhelming and intoxicating. He always knew too well how your body would react to him, wantonly eager to capture him in this desire. Just as much as it was willing to follow him, like he was its very own pied piper. 

His rough and yet gentle hands gripped your hips tighter against him, steadying you as he slid into you deeper, filling everything inside to the brim. Your lover’s breath could only feel ragged, his jaw clenched and tightened as he fought for control, his sweating forehead resting against your own, now too drenched in desire.

"You take me so perfectly, don’t you?" he growled, his voice low and filled with unrestrained hunger. “Too good.”

Your fingers found their way to the small of his back, nails painted crimson now stained deeper as they dragged across his skin, leaving raw, bleeding trails in their wake. You clung to him desperately, adjusting to the fullness of him, each deliberate motion sending shockwaves through your body. 

The initial sting of his girth soon melted into a searing pleasure, a molten heat pooling deep within you as he buried himself further, again and again. Each thrust forward in this pandemonium of pleasure was deliberate, unyielding, designed to elicit the loudest, most unrestrained cries from your lips. 

Even against the sound of music outside these walls, your pleasure was even louder. Not that Sukuna minded. If anything, that had just made him more eager for more. The air in the green room grew dense and feverish, charged with the mingling of your ragged breaths, the rhythmic slap of skin meeting skin, and the guttural curses that spilled freely from Sukuna’s lips.

He shifted slightly, tilting your hips with a nearly brutal precision, each movement driving him deeper and deeper into you. It was raw, primal—his intensity teetering on the edge of brutish animalism. The cool wall at your back pressed harder against you as he pushed closer, his heat overwhelming, searing into your already burning skin.

From then on, your lover found himself thrusting against you in a new angle. Almost instantly, you found yourself unraveled entirely, tearing cries of unrestrained ecstasy from your lips over and over again, layered in different pitches one after another. Your body arched instinctively, meeting him halfway, desperate for more as he kept you teetering on the precipice of bliss. 

Again and again, your lover gleefully pushed you closer to that feverish edge, his swift movements unrelenting, even as his own breaths grew rough and uneven, the sound of his hunger matching the rhythm of your shared passion. You could feel your slick sliding down your crevices, as much as drool was falling from your lips.

“You feel that?” he growled, his voice low and ragged, thick with possession. His lips found the curve of your neck, teeth grazing your skin before biting down lightly, claiming you in a way that sent shivers down your spine. 

You groan against him. “You take me so perfectly… even now, in this dress I made just for you. Look at how it clings to you, ruined. It’s just like I wanted.”

The shining silk fabric of the dress bunched at your hips, a masterpiece he had poured his craft into, now crumpled and wrinkled between your sweating, mangled bodies. It was too intoxicating, the way that the waves of wrinkles formed on the fabric as you moved against him just as intensely. It was such an art. It was an art that only belonged to you and him. No one else can ever see such marvels like this. 

The bright satin straps had all but slipped from your shoulders, exposing more of your gleamingly red and marred skin to his roaming calloused hands and greedy scarlet eyes. His long fingers gripped the delicate material, rough and unapologetic, as though the dress itself was just another part of you to dominate.

Your response was but a strangled moan as his brutishly eager hips snapped forward, the force of him driving you harder against the wall. The burn of skin against skin, the body against the cool wall — it has overtaken you whole in many fits of groans in pitiful harmonies of pleasure.

The cool surface contrasted with the molten heat coursing through your body, heightening every sensation. Your nails could only continue to claw at his shoulders, leaving streaks upon streaks of your touch across his skin, marring him,  as you fought to keep yourself grounded. He could only smirk at that.

“Look at you now.” he murmured darkly, his scarlet gaze piercing into yours. “Still wearing this dress like a goddess, and yet, you’re falling apart for me. Do you have any idea how maddening you are? How irresistible?” 

His hand slid between your bodies, teasingly brushing over the intricate folds of the fabric as his fingers found the heat pooling between your thighs. “Tell me, angel… do you want me to ruin this dress too? To ruin you completely, so no one else can ever have you?”

“Yes, my devil.Yes.” you gasped, your voice shaky but unyielding, the word spilling from your lips like a prayer. “Only you.”

His chuckle was dark, wicked, and utterly consuming, the sound of a man reveling in his victory. “Just how I love it, then.” he whispered, leaning in to brush his lips against your ear, his breath warm and teasing. “Because I’ve made you mine in every way that matters.”

His pace quickened, the power of his thrusts leaving you breathless, and yet, the dress still clung to your frame, a tattered proof to his desire and your surrender. Every stitch, every detail he had meticulously crafted was now a witness to the unrelenting passion that coursed between you, its perfection crumbling just as you were under his touch.

“You’re so beautiful like this.” he rasped, his voice thick with emotion, even as it trembled with raw hunger. “My perfect angel. My creation. Mine.”

The dress clung to you, its delicate fabric now rumpled and damp with sweat, a stark contrast to the pristine masterpiece it had been when he first slipped it into your body hours earlier. His hands roamed freely now, rough fingertips tracing the paths of the seams he had stitched with care. 

Each touch of his ignited sparks across your glowing skin, a searing reminder that every detail of the garment was crafted with you burning the thoughts he had mind—and now, every thread bore witness to how completely he had unraveled you bear to him.

“Do you feel how perfect this is?” he murmured, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as his voice dropped to a rasp. His hips surged forward again, drawing a gasp from your lips that echoed in the small room. 

“Every part of this, of you, was meant to drive me insane. The heavens planned for that, don’t you think? An angel to save the devil from sin.” He lets out a small choked chuckle, feeling sweat permeate from his neck. 

His words were almost worshipful, though they carried the dark edge of his hunger. One hand slid down, gripping your thigh through the bouncing fabric, pulling you impossibly closer as he pressed harder against you. His other hand tugged at the hem of your dress, teasingly smoothing it back down only to push it higher again.

“You don’t even know, do you?” he continued, his scarlet eyes locked onto yours, holding you captive as easily as his body did. “How beautiful you look like this—wrapped in something I made, only to have me ruin it.” 

His lips curled into a smirk, wicked and proud, before he leaned in, capturing your mouth in a searing kiss. The kiss was all-consuming, his teeth grazing your lower lip, his tongue invading with the same urgency as his movements against you. When he pulled back, leaving you gasping for air, his forehead pressed against yours, his breath mingling with yours.

“Say it again. I wanna hear it again.” he demanded, his voice thick with need. “Tell me you’re mine.”

You could barely form the words, but they tumbled from your lips without hesitation. “I’m yours. Only yours.”

His eyes darkened further, a victorious glint sparking within them. “That’s right.” he growled, his pace quickening, his grip on you tightening as he drove you higher and higher. “You’ll always be mine, angel. No one else will ever have you like this. No one else will ever love you like I do.”

The intensity of his words sent you over the edge, your beautiful cries mingling with his animalistic groans as he followed you into an oblivion together. The air around you was heavy, thick with the scent of desire and the echoes of your shared release.

For a moment, neither of you moved from the bliss of the high. The only sound that mattered to the two of you was the ragged cadence of your breaths. His hands, once rough and relentless, now moved with never ending tenderness, smoothing the crumpled fabric of your silk dress as if trying to restore its dignity. 

As if trying to hide the ruin and depravity that he feels only belongs to you and him. No one else can see it, no one else can know about his depravity. Only you, only you were the spectacle of any wrinkle in his composure. Your lover smiles at you. His lips brushed your forehead, a soft contrast to the ferocity of moments before.

“You’re perfect, as always.” he whispered, his voice low but steady, carrying a rare, vulnerable warmth. “In every way.”

You couldn’t help but smile at him. “So are you.”

[shima-draws]

Finished season 2…

[mattsobvimyfav]

neighbors (Matthew Sturniolo)

pt.4

It had been two weeks since everything with Matt’s text, and things had thankfully settled back into routine. Charlie had gone home for her mom’s birthday, leaving me with the house all to myself. At first, it felt strange not having her around, but I quickly leaned into the quiet.

By Saturday night, I was curled up on the couch in my comfiest sweatshirt and shorts, binge-watching an old show I’d seen a hundred times before. 

The knock at the door came out of nowhere.

It was sharp and deliberate, startling me enough to pause the show. I froze for a second, wondering if I imagined it, but then it came again—louder this time.

I glanced at the clock. Almost 10 p.m.

The knock startled me out of my comfortable haze.

I froze on the couch, the faint sound of the TV filling the silence as I strained to listen. It came again—a firm, deliberate knock at the door.

The house was eerily quiet without Charlie, and suddenly, the silence felt heavier. My stomach twisted with unease as I stood, moving slowly toward the door. My bare feet padded softly against the hardwood floor, and my pulse quickened with every step.

I paused a few feet away, staring at the door like it might explode. Another knock, louder this time.

I hesitated for a moment before finally unlocking the door and opening it. Standing on the other side was Nick, his hands shoved into his hoodie pockets, looking surprisingly…nervous.

“Nick?” I said, confusion clear in my voice.

“Hey,” he said softly. “Can I come in?”

I stared at him for a second, debating. My first instinct was to slam the door shut, but something in his expression stopped me. He wasn’t cocky or smug like I half-expected—he looked almost apologetic.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I said firmly, crossing my arms.

“Look, Y/N,” he started, his voice calm, “I know this is weird. But I… I just want to talk. Please?”

I sighed, my grip tightening on the door. “Why now, Nick? You had years to talk, to fix this, and you didn’t.”

“I know,” he admitted, stepping back slightly. “I know we screwed up. Big time. And I’m not here to justify it or even try to make things better. I just wanted to see if you’d hear me out.”

I leaned against the doorframe, unsure what to do. Part of me wanted to tell him to leave, to walk back to his perfect life next door and never bother me again. But another part of me, the part that still carried the weight of the past, was curious.

“I don’t know, Nick…” I said, my voice trailing off.

“I’m not asking you to forgive me or any of us,” he said quickly. “I hate the way things ended. And I hate the idea that we’re going to keep living next door to each other like strangers who pretend not to know each other.”

I frowned. “That’s not my problem. You guys made your choice. You left us.”

Nick's shoulders slumped slightly. “You’re right. We did. And I’m not proud of how we handled it. I’m sorry, Y/N. For everything.”

His voice cracked on the last word, and for the first time in years, I saw a glimpse of the old Nick—the one who used to make me laugh until I cried, the one who was always the peacekeeper between his brothers.

“Why are you doing this now?” I asked, my voice softer.

“Because it’s been eating at me,” he admitted. “seeing you just living your life without us—it hit me. You were family to us, Y/N. And we broke that. I can’t speak for Matt or Chris, but I needed to say something. Even if it doesn’t change anything.”

I bit my lip, torn. My heart ached at his words, but my walls were still firmly in place.

“I don’t know if I can do this, Nick,” I whispered.

“You don’t have to decide anything right now,” he said quickly. “But if you ever want to talk, I’m here.”

I hesitated, then nodded slightly. “Okay.”

Nick gave me a small, sad smile and stepped back. “Thanks for letting me say my piece.”

I didn’t respond, watching as he turned to walk back toward his house. 

I hesitated, my hand still gripping the doorknob as I watched Nick step away. Something in me softened, though I wasn’t entirely sure why. Maybe it was the vulnerability in his voice, or maybe I just didn’t want to sit alone with my thoughts for the rest of the night.

“Nick,” I called out, my voice barely above a whisper.

He stopped in his tracks and turned back toward me, his expression unreadable.

“Do you… want to come in? We could watch a movie or something. I was about to order food anyway,” I said, the words surprising even myself as they left my mouth.

His eyes widened slightly, and he looked at me like he was making sure he’d heard me right. “Are you serious?”

I shrugged, trying to play it off like it wasn’t a big deal. “Yeah. Just… nothing too heavy, okay? No more serious talks tonight.”

Nick nodded, a small smile forming on his face. “Okay. Deal.”

I stepped aside, letting him walk past me into the house. As he entered, he looked around, taking in the space. “Your house looks great,” he said, genuinely impressed.

“Thanks,” I replied, shutting the door behind him. “We’ve been working on it nonstop since we got here.”

He followed me into the living room, where I grabbed the remote and plopped down on the couch. Nick hesitated for a second before sitting on the opposite end, keeping a respectful distance.

“So, what are you in the mood for?” I asked, scrolling through the streaming apps.

“Something funny,” he suggested. “We could use a laugh, right?”

“Agreed,” I said, landing on a grown ups. “How about this?”

“Perfect,” he said, settling into the cushions.

As the movie started, I pulled up a food delivery app on my phone. “What are you feeling? Pizza? Chinese? Burgers?”

“Pizza’s always a safe bet,” Nick said.

I nodded, quickly placing an order for a large pizza and some sides. By the time the food arrived, we were both laughing at a ridiculous scene in the movie, and the tension from earlier felt like it had melted away.

We ate straight out of the pizza box, the movie playing in the background as we traded comments about random things—funny memories, favorite movies, the chaos of moving. For the first time in a long time, things felt… normal.

“Thanks for letting me stay,” he said softly.

I shrugged, trying to act casual. “It’s just pizza and a movie, Nick.”

“Yeah, but it means more than you know,” he said, his tone serious.

I didn’t respond, instead grabbing the remote to queue up something else. For now, that was enough.

The pounding on the door startled me awake. My neck ached from the awkward angle of sleeping on the couch, and it took me a second to realize where I was. Nick was sprawled out on the other end, snoring softly.

The knocking grew louder and more insistent.

“Jesus,” I muttered, rubbing my eyes as I sat up. “Who the fuck is pounding on my door this early?”

Nick stirred, groaning as he rolled over. “What’s going on?”

“Someone’s at the door,” I said, getting up and making my way toward it. The knocking hadn’t stopped. Whoever it was, they weren’t giving up.

I swung the door open, ready to snap at whoever it was, only to be met with Chris and Matt standing on my doorstep. Chris looked agitated, pacing back and forth, while Matt’s face was a mix of anger and disbelief.

“What the hell are you two doing here?” I asked, crossing my arms.

Matt’s eyes flicked past me to the couch, where Nick was sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “What the fuck is this?” he demanded, his voice low but angry.

“Morning to you too,” I said dryly.

“Nick didn’t come home last night, so we came to check on him,” Chris said, his tone sharp. “And now we find out he’s here? With you?”

I rolled my eyes. “Relax. He came over, we watched a movie, and we fell asleep. It’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal?” Matt repeated, stepping closer. His jaw was tight, and his voice was rising. “You forgave him? Just like that? After everything? But you won’t even hear us out?”

My stomach dropped, but I didn’t let it show. “This isn’t about forgiving anyone,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “Nick didn’t lie to me for months and rip my life apart. So, no, it’s not the same.”

Chris threw his hands in the air. “You’re seriously holding onto this? After four years?”

I glared at him. “Four years doesn’t erase what happened. You don’t get to just show up and expect everything to go back to normal.”

“Nick was part of it too!” Matt shot back, his voice loud now. “He knew what was happening. He didn’t stop us.”

“And yet he’s the only one who’s apologized,” I snapped. “He’s the only one who actually accepted it was his fault, not just blamed it on something else.”

Chris looked like he wanted to argue, but Matt cut him off, stepping closer to me. “You think you’re so above it all, don’t you? Acting like you’re the only one who got hurt. You don’t even know the whole story.”

“Because you never told me!” I shouted. “You left, Matt. You left, and you didn’t care what it did to me. You don’t get to play the victim now.”

The tension was suffocating. Chris looked like he wanted to punch something, and Matt… Matt just looked at me, his expression unreadable.

“You’ve got it all figured out, huh?” he said finally, his voice cold.

“Yeah,” I said, my voice trembling with anger. “I do. Now get off my porch.”

For a moment, neither of them moved. Then Chris grabbed Matt’s arm, pulling him back. “Come on,” he muttered.

Matt didn’t resist, but he didn’t take his eyes off me as they walked away. I slammed the door shut, leaning against it as I tried to steady my breathing.

“That was intense,” Nick said from the couch, his voice hesitant.

I didn’t respond. I was too busy trying to push down the knot of emotions in my chest. Too busy trying not to think about the way Matt had looked at me, like he was still holding onto something I didn’t want to face.

I glanced over at him. “want to grab some breakfast? I’m craving pancakes, and we’ve been cooped up here long enough.”

Nick sat up, running a hand through his hair. “Breakfast sounds amazing. Let me grab my shoes.”

We drove to a cozy diner a few blocks away, the kind of spot where you could smell the coffee before you even opened the door. we settled into a booth, chatting about everything and nothing.

Halfway through our pancakes, a girl approached our table, clutching her phone nervously. She looked between us with wide eyes. “Hi, I’m so sorry to bother you, but… are you Nick and Y/N?”

Nick and I exchanged a glance, smiling. “That’s us,” I said warmly.

The girl grinned, looking like she was trying not to scream. “I love both of you so much! Your videos always make my day. Could I maybe get a picture with you guys? It’d mean the world to me.”

Nick leaned back in his seat with a grin. “Of course. Let’s do it.”

We slid out of the booth, and the girl handed her phone to a nearby diner employee. After snapping a few pictures, she thanked us profusely, practically bouncing as she walked away.

“That was sweet,” Nick said, taking a sip of his coffee.

I nodded. “It’s always nice to meet people who actually enjoy what we do.”

A few hours later, back on the couch, Nick and I were going through some unreleased video footage. “This one is hilarious,” I said, pointing to a clip of me and Charlie trying—and failing—to build furniture. “I still have a bruise from that stupid shelf falling on me.”

As I reached for my phone to show him another clip, the notifications started rolling in. My screen lit up with likes, comments, and tags, all flooding my feed.

“What’s going on?” Nick asked, leaning over to peek at my phone.

I opened Instagram and saw it immediately—a post from the girl we’d met at the diner. The caption read, “Met my faves today! @nicksturniolo and @y/n are so sweet 🥰.”

Nick raised an eyebrow. “Wow, that blew up fast.”

Nick and I sat side by side on the couch, my phone balanced on my knee as we scrolled through the comments under the post. 

The first few comments were sweet and positive:

“OMG, I love them both so much! Glad to see them together!”

“Nick and Y/N hanging out?? My heart can’t take this.”

I smiled. “Okay, these are nice. People are excited.”

Nick nodded. “Yeah, but keep going. The internet’s always got something to say.”

I sighed, swiping down further. The tone shifted quickly:

“Wait, is she back with Matt??”

“This better not mean she’s getting back with Matt. He’s mine.”

“She better stay away from Matt. He doesn’t even want her.”

I groaned, leaning my head against the back of the couch. “And there it is.”

Nick laughed dryly. “Welcome to my world. People love to make assumptions. They think because we’re in the same room, it’s some secret plot to reunite you and Matt.”

I swiped again, hitting the truly rude comments.

“Nick deserves better than to be hanging out with her again.”

“She’s so fake. Watch her run back to the triplets when it benefits her.”

“LMAO, didn’t she say she wanted nothing to do with them? Guess she changed her mind real quick.”

Nick shook his head, taking the phone from my hands. “Alright, enough of that. Don’t let these keyboard warriors get to you. People love to create drama where there isn’t any.”

Nick gave me a reassuring smile. “You don’t owe anyone an explanation, least of all the fucking weirdos online. Let them talk.”

I nodded, feeling a little better. “Thanks, Nick.”

He grinned, leaning back into the couch. “Anytime. Now, let’s focus on something that actually matters—like which of these unreleased videos is going to blow up next.”

I laughed, pulling my laptop onto my lap. “Deal.”

Later that evening, a few hours after Nick left, as I was lounging on the couch scrolling mindlessly through my phone, Charlie’s name popped up on the screen with an incoming FaceTime call. I quickly answered, propping the phone up against the armrest.

“What’s up?” I greeted, noticing that Charlie looked a little hesitant, which wasn’t like her at all.

“Hey,” she started, biting her lip. “So, I need to tell you something.”

I tilted my head, instantly curious. “Okay… what is it?”

She sighed, looking down at something off-screen before meeting my gaze again. “So, I saw that you’ve hung out with Nick, and it kind of made me feel like I should be honest about something.”

My stomach tightened. “What do you mean?”

Charlie winced but continued. “I’ve been texting Chris. For a little while now.”

The words hung in the air for a moment as I processed them.

“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to upset you,” she added quickly, her voice almost pleading. “I know how you feel about everything that happened, and I didn’t want you to think I was choosing him over you or anything like that.”

I took a deep breath, surprised at how calm I felt. “Charlie,” I began softly, “you don’t have to hide something like that from me. I’d never be upset with you for texting Chris.”

Her eyebrows shot up in disbelief. “Really?”

“Of course,” I assured her, leaning back on the couch. “Look, I know what happened between me and Matt and even with Chris back then was messy, but that doesn’t mean you can’t have your own relationship with him. If you trust him and he makes you happy, then that’s all that matters to me.”

Her face softened, relief washing over her. “You mean that?”

“I mean it,” I said firmly. “Charlie, you’re my best friend. I just want you to be happy. If texting Chris feels right for you, then I’m happy for you. No judgment here.”

She let out a small laugh, her shoulders relaxing. “I was so worried you’d be mad or think I was betraying you or something.”

“Never,” I promised. “You’ve always had my back, and I’ll always have yours. Plus, it’s not like I’m holding a grudge or anything. I just… haven’t gotten to where you are yet, and that’s okay. We’re different people.”

Charlie smiled, her eyes shining with gratitude. “Thanks, Y/N. That really means a lot to me.”

“Of course,” I said with a grin. “Now, tell me—what’s he been saying? Has he finally learned how to be a decent texter, or is he still sending one-word responses?”

She burst out laughing, and just like that, the tension melted away. We spent the rest of the call talking and laughing, and for the first time in a while.

“I cant wait for you to come home” I told her before we were about to hang up 

“Two more days, survive two more days” She said 

“I think I’m gonna see if Nick wants to come back over. We had a lot of fun” She smiled wide 

“Maybe have him bring Chris? So that I can be all out with him. reconcile with him. We can work on Matt.. maybe never!” She giggled. I thought about it for a minute. Maybe it was a good idea if he was going to be with my best friend. 

“Okay” 

Charlie looked at me surprised. “Really?” She asked wide eyed 

“Yeah, I mean if you two are going to be together mine as well make up with him” Me and charlie finished our call and I decided to text Nick. 

After hanging up with Charlie, I sat on the couch, still processing everything. She was texting Chris, and it wasn’t as earth-shattering as I thought it might be. If Charlie was happy, I’d make peace with it, but it was time to address the elephant in the room.

I opened my messages and quickly typed out a text to Nick:

Me: “Hey, can you come over? Bring Chris. Just Chris. I need to talk to him.”

It didn’t take long for Nick to reply.

Nick: “Sure. Matt’s out, so it’s just us. Be there in 20.”

I put my phone down and took a deep breath. This wasn’t going to be easy, but if Chris was going to be in Charlie’s life, then I had to figure out a way to deal with him.

Twenty minutes later, there was a knock at the door. I opened it to find Nick standing there with Chris slightly behind him, looking nervous.

“Hey,” Nick greeted with his usual easygoing smile.

“Come in,” I said, stepping aside to let them in. Chris glanced around awkwardly as they entered, his hands shoved deep in his pockets.

We all moved to the living room, and Nick plopped down on the armrest of the couch while Chris stood there like he wasn’t sure where to sit.

“You can sit,” I said, motioning to the chair across from me. He hesitated before lowering himself into it, his gaze flicking between me and Nick.

“So, what’s up?” Nick asked, breaking the silence.

I took a deep breath, my eyes locking on Chris. “Look, I’m going to be straight with you,” I began. “Charlie told me you two have been talking, and I’m not here to fight about it. I just want to set some ground rules if you’re going to be in her life.”

Chris looked startled, his mouth opening to respond, but I held up a hand to stop him.

“I’m not going to pretend like we can just go back to how things used to be,” I continued. “We’re never going to be best friends again, and I’ve accepted that. But for Charlie’s sake, I’m willing to be cordial with you. As long as you don’t hurt her.”

Chris’s shoulders slumped slightly, relief evident in his expression. “I’d never hurt her,” he said quietly, his voice steady but filled with sincerity.

I nodded. “You did. Just don’t do it again.”

Nick snorted from his spot, and Chris shot him a glare. I couldn’t help but let a small smile creep onto my face.

“I’m serious,” I said, leaning back on the couch. “I don’t trust you completely, but Charlie does. And if she���s willing to give you another chance, I’ll respect that. But you need to respect me too. Don’t expect us to be friends, Chris. I’ll be nice, but that’s it.”

Chris nodded, his face serious. “I understand. And… Thank you. For even giving me this chance. I know I don’t deserve it.”

I shrugged, standing up. “It’s not about you, it’s about Charlie. Don’t forget that.”

Nick clapped his hands together, breaking the tension. “Well, that went better than expected. Anyone else hungry, or is it just me?”

I rolled my eyes, but a small laugh escaped me. “You’re always hungry.”

Nick grinned. “Guilty as charged.”

Chris stood up, glancing at me. “Thanks, Y/N. Really.”

I nodded, crossing my arms. “Just don’t mess this up.”

With that, the tension eased, and the three of us settled into a surprisingly comfortable rhythm, chatting lightly while Nick raided my kitchen. It wasn’t perfect, but it was a start.

The peace didn’t last long. A couple of hours later, while Nick was still rummaging through my snack cabinet and Chris was sitting awkwardly on the couch, we heard another knock at the door.

Before I could even get up, the door swung open, and there was Matt, standing in the doorway with an expression that could melt steel.

“Seriously?” he snapped, his voice sharp and accusing as his eyes darted around the room. “So, what? Everyone gets to come back into your life except me?”

I froze for a moment, startled by his sudden appearance, but then I straightened up, crossing my arms. “What are you doing here, Matt?”

“Checking why my brothers are over here,” he shot back. “And now I see why. You’ve forgiven them, but not me?”

Nick groaned, rubbing his temple. “Matt, this really isn’t your business—”

“Stay out of it, Nick,” Matt interrupted, his focus locked on me. “Why, Y/N? Why am I the only one you’re still shutting out?”

I took a deep breath, my jaw clenching as I tried to stay calm. “Because it’s different, Matt,” I said, my voice steady but firm.

“How is it different?” he demanded, stepping further into the room. Chris stood up, but I waved him off.

“Because,” I said, taking a step toward him, “Nick and Chris weren’t my boyfriend. They weren’t the person I trusted the most in the world. They didn’t promise me forever.”

Matt flinched like I’d just slapped him, his eyes narrowing. “You think it was easy for me?” he said, his voice rising. “You think I didn’t hate every second of it?”

“You made your choice, Matt,” I snapped. “I’m so fucking over having this same conversation with you.”

Chris looked down, guilt written all over his face, but Matt didn’t back down. “And you think it was a walk in the park for me?” he shot back. Matt’s jaw tightened, his fists clenching at his sides. “And what about now? I’m here, aren’t I? I’m trying, but you won’t even let me in!”

“Because I don’t owe you that anymore!” I shouted, my voice breaking slightly. “You don’t get to waltz back into my life and act like everything’s fine. It’s not fine, Matt. I moved on. You need to do the same.”

The room fell silent, the tension thick and suffocating. Nick looked like he wanted to disappear, and Chris was staring at the floor, avoiding everyone’s gaze.

Finally, Matt spoke, his voice low and raw. “I never stopped loving you, Y/N. Not for a second.”

I closed my eyes, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Well, that’s too bad,” I said quietly, my voice trembling. “Because I did. So, please, just leave me alone.”

Matt’s face crumpled for a moment, but he quickly masked it with anger. “Fine,” he spat, turning on his heel. “Fuck you.”

He stormed out, slamming the door behind him, and the sound echoed through the house. For a moment, none of us moved or spoke, the air still heavy with the aftermath of the argument.

Finally, Nick let out a low whistle. “Well… that was intense.”

I sank down onto the couch, burying my face in my hands. “I can’t do this,” I muttered, my voice muffled.

Chris hesitated for a moment before sitting back down. “I’m sorry, Y/N,” he said quietly. “For everything.”

I didn’t look up, just nodded. “It’s fine. Let’s just drop it, okay?”

The three of us sat there in silence for a while, the weight of Matt’s words lingering in the back of my mind. 

It had been a whirlwind of a few days, but the house finally felt settled—and more importantly, Charlie was coming back tonight. Since she and Chris had been texting but hadn’t seen each other in person yet, Nick, Chris, and I thought it would be fun to surprise her. We decided to throw her a mini “welcome home” party, just the three of us, and vlog the whole setup.

Nick took the lead on decorating, and by the time we were done, the living room was covered in colorful signs that said things like “Welcome Back!” and “We Missed You!” We’d also ordered snacks, stocked up on drinks, and set up a playlist for the night. Chris was surprisingly into it, helping hang streamers and even insisting we bake cookies.

As we set up, the camera was rolling. “Alright, everyone,” I said into the lens, holding up a tray of freshly baked cookies, “Chris and Nick may have a future in party planning because this place looks amazing.”

Nick snorted. “Don’t lie to them. We’ve been winging this the whole time.”

“Speak for yourself,” Chris chimed in, carefully adjusting one of the signs. “I’m an artist.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “Okay, Picasso. Anyway, Charlie should be here around 9:30, and when she walks in, we’re going to scream and scare the crap out of her.”

“I’m excited to see her,” Nick added with a grin.

By the time 9:30 rolled around, the anticipation was killing us. We sat on the couch with the camera ready, waiting for the sound of her car pulling into the driveway. When the headlights finally appeared, we jumped up and got into position by the door.

As soon as the front door opened, we all screamed at the top of our lungs.

“WELCOME HOME!”

Charlie shrieked in surprise, her hand flying to her chest before breaking into a huge grin. “MY BEST FRIEND!” She screamed, dropped her bags and immediately ran toward me first, picking me up and spinning me around. “I missed you so much, Y/N!”

“I missed you too!” I laughed, holding onto her tightly.

“Wow, you literally live with her” Chris said, crossing his arms pretending to be mad. 

Finally her eyes landed on Chris, and her smile widened even more. She bolted toward him, and he caught her effortlessly, lifting her off the ground as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Without hesitation, he kissed her, and we all cheered obnoxiously in the background.

“Okay, okay, get a room!” Nick teased, throwing a pillow at them.

Charlie finally let go of Chris, turning to Nick with a mock glare. “Oh, shut up. I’m just happy to be home!”

We all laughed, the room filling with the energy that had been missing for years. The rest of the night was a blur of catching up, snacks, and laughter as we celebrated Charlie’s return.

The morning light filtered through my curtains as I groggily opened my eyes. Charlie was still beside me, her hair a messy halo on the pillow. We must’ve crashed around four after the boys went home. It felt like we hadn’t had a night like that in years—laughing, talking, just being carefree.

I stretched and yawned, ready to get up, but Charlie turned to me, propping herself up on one elbow. Her face was serious, which immediately put me on edge. “Y/N,” she started, her voice soft but firm, “do you think you’ll ever forgive Matt?”

The question hit me like a punch to the stomach, and before I could stop myself, tears welled up in my eyes. “I don’t know,” I whispered, voice cracking as I sat up and wiped at my face.

“Hey,” Charlie said quickly, sitting up beside me. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I just… I see how much this is still hurting you.”

I let out a shaky breath, the dam breaking as tears spilled over. “He killed me, Charlie,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “When he left, it wasn’t just that he broke my heart. It was like he shattered this entire part of me I didn’t even know existed. He didn’t just leave me behind, he left everything—us, you, the friendship, everything we built. And I just… I don’t know if I can ever forgive him for that.”

Charlie’s face softened as she pulled me into a hug. “Y/N, I get it. I do. And I’m not saying you need to forgive him. But… maybe you should talk to him.”

I pulled back, looking at her like she was insane. “Talk to him?” I asked, incredulous. “Every time I try, it ends in a fight. He doesn’t listen, I don’t listen—it’s just a mess.”

“Maybe because both of you are so busy fighting, you don’t actually say what you need to,” Charlie pointed out. “Look, I’m not saying it’s going to be easy, but maybe if you sat down and told him everything—how you felt, how you’re still feeling—you’d get some closure. Even if it doesn’t fix anything, at least you’d know you said what you needed to say.”

I stared at her, tears still streaming down my face. “What if I do that and it makes everything worse?”

Charlie smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair out of my face. “How could it get worse? You’re already carrying all this pain. Maybe letting it out will finally help.”

I sighed, wiping at my face. “I don’t know if I can do it, Char.”

“You can,” she said, her voice filled with conviction. “You’re the strongest person I know, Y/N. And if anyone can handle this, it’s you.”

I nodded, though my heart felt heavy. The thought of facing Matt and opening up all those wounds terrified me. But maybe Charlie was right. Maybe it was time to stop fighting and start talking.

As I sat there, trying to gather myself after spilling everything to Charlie, the weight on my chest felt a little lighter. It wasn’t gone, but it was manageable—like I could breathe just a bit easier. Charlie gave me one of her signature warm smiles, the kind that always made me feel like everything might just be okay.

Then, out of nowhere, she clapped her hands together and grinned. “Okay, enough tears for one morning. I have an idea.”

I sniffled, looking at her skeptically. “Should I be scared?”

“No,” she said, her grin widening. “You should be excited. How about we go on vacation? Just the two of us. Like… Hawaii or something!”

I blinked at her, caught completely off guard. “Hawaii? Just like that?”

“Why not?” she said, already grabbing her phone. “We’ve been through so much lately—new house, the boys, everything with Matt. We deserve a break. Just picture it: beaches, fruity drinks, no drama, and relaxation. Doesn’t that sound amazing?”

I couldn’t help but laugh at her enthusiasm. “It does sound amazing,” I admitted, a small smile tugging at my lips.

“Then let’s do it!” she said, practically bouncing on the bed. “We’ll book flights, find a cute little Airbnb by the beach, and just disappear for a week.”

I sighed, already feeling a bit of excitement creeping in. “Alright, let’s do it. But you’re handling the planning. My brain is still fried from everything.”

“Deal!” she said, beaming as she started scrolling through her phone for flights.

As I watched her, a warmth spread through me. No matter what life threw at us, Charlie always found a way to remind me that there was still good, still joy, still something to look forward to. And right now, the thought of sandy beaches and crystal-clear water sounded like exactly what I needed.

tag-

@tbfaptbfae @ch0llies @2muchofaslvt @rockstarchr1s @simply-a-simper @mattscore @watercolorskyy @urfungi @sturnsvelocity @mattsturnii @christmastreecake @izzylovesmatt @larnieboox88 @christophersstar @realuvrrr @namelesssav

[trrsseea]

The Choices We Make

pairing: Bucky x reader

warning: non

Bucky sat on the edge of his bed, staring at his vibranium hand. The dog tags around his neck clinked softly as he shifted, the sound somehow heavier than usual. Y/n was in the kitchen, humming to herself as she made breakfast, blissfully unaware of the war raging in his mind.

It wasn’t her fault. She was perfect—kind, smart, patient, everything he didn’t think he deserved. But that was the problem. Wasn’t it? She deserved someone who fit into her world. Someone who understood memes without needing them explained. Who didn’t get overwhelmed by crowds or who could actually laugh along with her friends instead of feeling like an outsider in their world. He didn’t belong here. Not at this time. Not with her.

Y/n walked in her hair slightly mussed from the morning, wearing one of my old shirts. She was holding a tray balanced carefully in her hands, carrying a breakfast, golden French toast and two steaming mugs. I assumed one was tea for her and the other, black coffee for me. Her face lit up with her usual radiant smile, a look so serene and angelic that she seemed almost otherworldly.

She smiled even brighter, which I didn’t think was possible as she handed me a mug. “Morning, sleepyhead.” I looked up and took the coffee, but the warmth of the mug did little to ease the cold feeling in my chest.

“Y/n, we need to talk,” I said, my voice low but steady.

She frowned, placing her mug on the table with a soft clink. “That sounds ominous,” she said, followed by a light giggle, unaware of just how right she was.

I took a deep breath, staring into the dark liquid swirling in the mug I held tightly. “I’ve been thinking… maybe this isn’t working.”

Her brow furrowed. “What do you mean?” At first, she didn’t understand, but then she realised it.

“We’re fine. Aren’t we?” she asked, her frown deepening as her eyes searched mine.

I shook my head, unable to meet her eyes. “You deserve someone… normal. Someone who understands your world, your jokes, your friends. Someone who isn’t stuck in the past.”

“Bucky,” she said softly, sitting beside me. “Where is this coming from? Did something happen?” She sounds worried and places her hand gently on my knee, her thumb moving in slow, soothing circles.

“It’s not one thing,” I admitted, setting the coffee down. “It’s everything. You’re young, Y/n. You have your whole life ahead of you. And I’m… I’m old. I’ve lived through things you can’t even imagine. And sometimes, I feel like I’m dragging you into my mess.”

She stops the movement of her hand “That’s not how I see it,” she said firmly.

“I know,” I said, finally meeting her gaze. “But it’s how I feel. And I don’t think it’s fair to you. You could be with someone who doesn’t come with all this… baggage.” I gesture to myself.

She stared at me for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then, she stood up, crossing her arms. “Okay, let’s break this down. First of all, yes, you’re older. But that doesn’t mean we don’t understand each other. And you’re not the only one who has been through tough things. Everyone has baggage, Bucky.” She says firmly not letting her shields down.

“It’s not the same,” I argued.

“I’m not saying it’s the same baggage,” she countered, her voice steady, “but we all have something we fight.”

“No, it’s not,” she admitted, her tone softening. “But it doesn’t have to be. We don’t have to be the same to make this work.”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “Y/n, you’re too good for this. For me.”

She let out a short laugh, shaking her head. “You don’t get to decide that for me. I knew who you were when we started this, Bucky. I chose this. I chose you. And yeah, it’s not always easy, but what relationship is?” She smiled slightly at me.

I looked up at her, the walls I’d been building around myself starting to crack. “What if I can’t give you what you need? What if—”

“Stop,” she interrupted, sitting back down beside him. “What I need is you. Flaws, baggage, your dad jokes, and all of you. You don’t have to have everything figured out, Bucky. We can figure it out together.”

I was silent for a long moment, the weight of her words sinking in. “What if I can’t be enough?”

She moved to sit on top of me, each leg on one side, and placed her hands on my cheeks, her gaze locking onto mine. “Then we deal with it. Together. But you don’t get to push me away because you’re scared. That’s not fair to me.”

I stared at her, my throat tight. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Maybe not,” she said with a small smile. “But I’m not going anywhere.”

I wrapped my arms around her waist, pulled her close, and buried my face against her, inhaling her familiar scent. She responded by wrapping her arms around me, holding me just as tightly.

I let out a soft laugh, shaking my head. “You’re stubborn.”

“That’s why you like me,” she whispered into my ear brushing her lips softly against it.

Without thinking, I lifted my head closing the distance between us, and pressed my lips softly against hers. The kiss was tender, lingering for a moment as if we both needed the reassurance.

And for the first time in weeks. I felt a flicker of hope. Maybe we could make this work Maybe I didn’t have to do this alone.

[baneonono]

There are a lot of people talking about Penelope’s pov in the last song. People will discuss how she is hyper intelligent, what is means that she’s Spartan, how patient she’s been, what her final test for Odysseus was and what it means that she gave it to him. And there was definitely consent discord of people noticing that Odysseus asked Penelope if she would love him. And while all of this is great, it’s all been kind of bothering me because of the treatment of Penelope. 

One thing we haven’t been discussing is how Penelope has changed. Look there are two things that I think necessarily had to happen when Odysseus went away. Firstly Odysseus needed someone to fight for, someone to get home to. And this person was Penelope, and while I’m sure his understanding of her was good, it became stagnant because he was away from her without any contact. He was working very hard on getting back to an image, a representation of Penelope. There was this version of Penelope, that may very well have been perfectly similar to Penelope twenty years ago, but nonetheless was still a freeze frame, that he put on a pedestal. He needed to do this so he could get home. He needed to imagine his perfect wife, frozen in time, waiting for him, so that he could get home. 

But I also can assure you that Penelope was not frozen in time. She was left with a very young son and an entire kingdom to rule, however she handled it, she is not the same person she was twenty years ago. She has changed. That is inevitable. She has become a different person just like Odysseus has become a different person. Maybe she didn’t become a monster(I like to believe she did for parallel reasons but she doesn’t have to have) but she is not the same person. 

Now in all reality, they both went through the same thing, Penelope changed and was motivated to keep waiting by a freeze frame of her husband. Odysseus changed and was motivated to keep going by a freeze frame of his wife. Both are true because they both were separated from each other. But the reason I emphasize Penelope’s change is because everyone mostly seems to be ignoring it. And I think the reason Penelope is mad at the final song is because Odysseus is ignoring it. He hasn’t seen her for her yet. He’s still thinking about this conception of her in his head from twenty years ago when he asks her “would you fall in love with me again”. He’s not seeing her. He’s going on and on about how he’s done so many awful things and he’s become this monster that she won’t even recognize and he’s ignoring the person actually in front of him for this picture of her on a pedestal. And Penelope has to stand there and watch her husband grovel at her feet, not understanding that she has been changed, not allowing that her feelings for him would’ve changed her just as much, not seeing that the separation impacted her just as much as it impacted him. And she’s angry. Because she’s been waiting, she’s been fighting every single day for her husband, she’s watched herself become a person that her twenty years ago wouldn’t even recognize for this man and he sits at her feet discrediting all of the work she’s done to be here when he got home. She’s raised their son on her own, she’s fought off suitors, she’s ruled a kingdom, and so much more for this man at her feet and he won’t even look at her. 

She’s angry and she needs to make him see her. And my girl Penelope, is such an icon, that she does three things at once in an attempt to make him see her. She makes him feel how she’s feeling, she reminds him of what they both worship, and she utilizes her change to do this so that he understands what he’s dealing with now. The olive tree task does all of those. Let’s start with the last one. I know that people like to think of this trial as something Penelope always would’ve done, she would’ve always been a little tricky and manipulative but I think this is something she picked up in her twenty years. I think she was always intelligent but I don’t think she would’ve hidden her intentions before. I think this makes sense in a few different ways. Firstly, Odysseus interprets it literally when she asks him to move the bed. Remember this is the Odysseus who has a frozen image of Penelope from the years before and he thinks that what she’s insinuating here is that she wants him to move the bed and destroy a symbol of their love, he takes it literally. So I think that before, Penelope would’ve been intelligent but not manipulative and I think that shows in Odysseus reaction. Where when he realizes what she’s done, he’s surprised, too stunned to speak(he’s also into it but that’s unimportant for now). I also think that Penelope would’ve had to become more manipulative given her situation. The suitors, her kingdom, all of them that have different goals than her, she would have to seem like she’s appeasing them while not appeasing them. All this to say, I think the olive tree trial is a thing she wouldn’t have done before, I interpret it as a result of the twenty years and not something Odysseus would recognize. Which brings me to the other two things she did with the task. She made Odysseus see her and understand what she’s feeling and she reminded him of what they both worship. It’s no mystery that Odysseus was angry at this attack to the foundation of their relationship, which is exactly what Penelope was feeling. Odysseus came into their room and treated her as stagnant, refused to see her, and this was an attack at the very foundation of their relationship, which is everlasting love. He insinuates that she won’t love him despite everything in his question and that is just like Penelope telling him to move the bed. And he responds with the same anger that she feels. And when he realizes this, she’s accomplished the goal of reframing his vision of her. He sees that she’s changed, he sees that she was angry, he sees that they both did everything for that love, he sees her. And, importantly, it’s only after he sees her that she answers his question. Once he understands what he’s come back, then she will answer the question. Because she’s glad he asked, and it’s definitely the right way to go, making sure you both still want this, but it’s a useless question if he doesn’t know who he’s asking it to. So after she makes him understand, then she answers. “I will fall in love with you over and over again, I don’t care how where or when, not matter how long it’s been you’re mine”. And that is my girl, that is a person who’s been changed by her experiences, but still is very much in love with her husband, that is a three dimensional person with emotions and nuance. 

And for the record, this is not to say that Odysseus was ever in the wrong here. Not at all, what Odysseus did makes complete sense. He was caught up in his journessey. He was looking at the situation through the eyes of I have become this monster and my wife has been waiting. He, very validly, was still lost at sea. And Penelope brought him home. And just one more little detail that I love is the usage of “new” and “old” king. Before he goes to see Penelope, everyone is referring to him as “old king”. When Penelope puts forth the challenge she says “will be the new king”. Which just makes me think that Odysseus went from being the old king to the new king in the course of wyfilwma. But he’s always Penelope’s husband because Penelope refers to the bow as “my husband’s old bow”. Which just gets to the idea that he’s changed but he’s always her husband. 

Anyway this is just the way I love this musical. Gonna over analyze it immensely

[justwonder113]

Seo Changbin can't multitask

Summary: It's surely magical how at one glance just a regular day in your life can become one of the most memorable and special days in your life given you're sharing it with a special person. It's especially interesting when everything starts by you asking your boyfriend to do a TikTok challenge to test his multitasking skills. Warnings: Reader is gender neutral. Consumption of alcohol. A few kiss scenes. Changbin being a sweetheart. It's mostly just fluff, but if I missed anything please tell me. Reader being whipped(who wouldn't honestly!). Reader realizing they are in love. Reader being worried for a minute about confessing. Just pure fluff. A/N- this is inspired by this lovely request I have received. Sorry it took me this long to write this, I couldn't really make up my mind on how to write this so I rewrote this couple of times. I really hope you will like it. I really loved writing this so I hope you will enjoy reading this. Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated, I would love to hear your thoughts^^ Word count: 3k

If you like my work you can buy me coffee ❤️

Masterilist

If you're curious this is the TikTok challenge I am refering to.

Growing up you imagined that falling in love would be something really magical, something really majestic and fairytale like. Maybe something out of Disney movie! Especially saying your first I love yous! You always thought you would exchange them with your partner in the most romantic situation ever. Not in a million years would you think that you would realize that you were in love on a random Tuesday doing a random challenge you saw on TikTok with your boyfriend.

It was a most casual day, nothing special had actually happened. The most exciting thing was that Changbin was supposed to come over later in the evening. Naturally you were more than excited to see him, due to your busy schedules you didn’t get to see each other that much. So it was safe to say you missed him quite a lot.

You were also really excited to try this new challenge with him. It was no news that Changbin couldn’t multitask. So when you saw a challenge where basically men had to cut out different shapes on colorful papers while telling a story you just knew you just had to try it on your boyfriend.

“Baby I’m here!” Hearing Changbin’s booming voice immediately put a smile on your face. How was is possible that even being in his presence immediately put a smile on your face.

“I’m in the kitchen baby!” - You yelled out as you continued stirring the pasta sauce. Changbin had said earlier that he was craving some. So you went out to make some, you even bought some white wine to go with it.

“It smells so good baby.” Changbin mused as he hugged you from the back.

“It will be ready in two minutes baby, can you help me serve the table before that? And open up the wine please? It’s on the counter.” You asked, but not before kissing him on his cheek.

“Of course baby!” Changbin squeezed you one last time before getting to work. He was so cute waddling around carefully not to disturb you as you finished up the pasta. It was something else watching him do something simple yet domestic. You couldn’t explain it but it really warmed up your heart. Also it kind of amazed you how he just knew where everything was, even the wine opener. You didn’t even remember most of the time where you put it. You might wonder what the big deal was but it just showed how close you were. Thinking about it you also knew his house like the back of your hand. You knew where he put everything and all. You hadn’t been dating that long so it was an interesting observation of how well you two actually knew each other.

“I’m all done baby! He cheered as you finally finished carefully putting pasta on the plate. You were sure he would like it, it smelled just amazing. Youwere glad you really put your heart into it.

Walking to the table with two plates you couldn’t help but smile at the careful but the still a bit messy way he had set the table.

Changbin had already poured the wine too and everything, he even had bought some cake and sweets with him and set them up too. It was another endearing thing about him how he never came at your house without bringing you something.

“Baby!” You couldn’t help but jump a little when he cheered quite loudly. He immediately got up from his chair and walked over to you talking your hands in his. What baffled you the most is when he got on his knee all dramatically.

“What are you doing Bin?” You asked as you tried to control your giggling at his silly antics.

“What I’m doing? I will tell you what I’m doing! I am going to kiss the magical hands of my baby for making something this delicious!” And to make his point more apparent he leaned in and covered your hands in kisses, not missing a single knuckle.

You couldn’t help but burst out laughing, he was so sweet and silly. “You’re so cute Binnie.” Leaning in you connected your lips in a short but loving kiss. “I’m taking you like my cooking.”

Changbin smiled and pecked you softly. “I’m saying that I’m regretting not buying a ring for you. So what if we have been only dating for two months.”

Smiling you shook your head. ”My cooking can not be that good!”

“First of all how dare you it’s top tier, second of all even if it wasn’t, the fact that you got out of your way to do something for me speaks volumes about how kind and loving you are. As I’m saying marriage material.” God you loved this man.

Oh.

Oh.

You were in love.

You loved Seo Changbin.

As if happy you finally realized it your heart felt like it doubled in size, it just bloomed in joy. You felt like you could yell it on top of your lungs, to let everyone know!

You gazed into his loving eyes, full of light and joy, sparkling oh so beautifully.

Suddenly you were rendered speechless. Your pulse quickened, your breath fastened, hands felt more clammy. You just couldn’t muster up anything to say. It just baffled you how nervous you got in a second. It was Changbin! The person you you felt most comfortable and safe with. Why couldn’t you say you loved him? You two had been dating for two months and he told you that he would marry you, why couldn’t you say something way more simple? Why did you feel so nervous now? Why couldn’t you tell him that you love him? This felt like such a right time too. Maybe you should think over your emotions first. Not that you needed any thinking about it. As soon as you realized everything just clicked together, like it was the most natural thing to be in love with him.

Taking a deep breath you forced yourself to say something. “All in it’s time okay baby?” Leaning in you gently held his face and kissed him, more passionately and now. If you couldn’t voice just yet how you felt you would try to show your feelings through the kiss.

Changbin gladly reciprocated, standing up slowly he also held onto your cheeks to bring you closer and deepen the kiss.

Everything seemed to disappear. It was only you and Changbin. Nothing else, not that it mattered anyway when you two had each other.

You only remembered about the forgotten dinner when you leaned back for some air.

“Baby the food will get cold.” You giggled at the annoyed huff from Changbin when you dodged his kiss.

“I want to kiss you though.” He tried to kiss you again but you skillfully avoided his lips and made him kiss your cheek instead.

“Dinner first! I promise I will kiss you as many times as you want later.”- You suggested smiling.

Changbin thought for a second, his eyes not leaving yours. Then quickly held your face so he could quickly peck your lips. “Deal!”-He muttered against your lips before giving you another quick peck. You couldn’t help but mirror his grin. He was such a dork.

The dinner was mostly quiet, with you occasionally talking about how your days went. It was comforting and somewhat healing to just eat dinner together and sip some wine while talking about mundane stuff of everyday life. You could get used to it and definitely wouldn't mind if this was an everyday occurrence. His earlier marriage rant really had shifted something inside you.

After eating you quickly tidied up with Changbin insisting that he do the dishes because that was “the least he could do” as he said.

So here you were now, sitting on your couch sipping your wine, enjoying each other’s presence, with some soft music playing in the background. You were debating if you should try the challenge with him, you were enjoying yourself and you didn't really feel like moving even a centimeter.

In the end you couldn’t resist the temptation. And decided to ask. “Binnie, I saw this challenge earlier on TikTok, will you try it with me?”

Changbin raised an eyebrow, looking intrigued. “What’s the challenge?”

“Nothing special, I just thought we could try it. I’m not going to post it or anything, but I think it will be a cute thing to do. You know we can look at it later, maybe years later and just reminisce you know?” You tried to not show too much excitement but you might have failed at that a little bit. Also it flustered you how you slipped up and said how you could at the video years later. You really saw future with him, but was this a good time to say this? Two months wasn’t that long to have those types of conversations? Or was it? You and Changbin were in for the long run, you surely knew that but still, it did make you feel a bit nervous.

Maybe Changbin noticed the little bit of hesitation in the end of your suggestion, or maybe he just felt like it, but he leaned in and gently kissed your lips which momentarily made you forget how to breathe. “Of course baby, what do you want me to do?” His voice was gentle, so loving.

God you loved this man.

“One second!” Somehow, with your legs feeling like jelly and your heart fluttering uncontrollably in your ribcage, you managed to get up to get the supplies for the challenge.

Changbin looked at you for a second then at the camera, a playful smirk appearing on his face. Suddenly with the most dramatic gasp ever he clutched his heart. ”Not my baby, my darling targeting my biggest weakness! How could you do this to me baby! When you think you know someone!” Suddenly he straightened up and gave you a playful glare. “For this betrayal you shall pay double the price! I demand as many kisses as I deem necessary and cuddles on top of that!”

You set up your phone and started to record, you would edit the video later if it got too long.

You handed him some papers on which you drew some flowers and hearts earlier and some scissors. “Basically, it’s a challenge to test your multitasking skills, I will also do it. You see how there are different shapes drawn on the papers? You just have to cut them out while telling a story without interruptions, like how we met for instance! Sound good?”

For the nth time that day you found yourself giggling at your boyfriend’s silly antics. Leaning in you kissed the top of his nose. “That’s a given baby, I will give you as many kisses as you want and maybe even more!”

Changbin grinned triumphally, his chest puffing out in pride.

“Okay let’s do it! I will make sure to win this challenge! Also you can’t back down I have the evidence of your promise on camera right there. So brace your pretty lips.” It was cute how fired up he got.

He looked at the papers his face suddenly more serious. In the end he chose glittery pink paper with a heart drawn on it.

“How we met huh? Okay!” He took the scissors and brought it to the paper. “I was with Hyunjin at the new café he wanted to go to. He found it on Instagram or something and he liked how artsy it was, so asked me to go with him, so I agreed.” Not to lie you were impressed on how well he started. He was talking confidently as he carefully started to cut out the shape. “It was a sunny day too. Then…” You not breaking the eye contact you still noticed how his hands faltered. He must have not noticed, he was gently smiling at the fond memory. “We got americanos because we had a lot of work to do…” He must have noticed he had stopped so he quickly picked up the pace. “And then…” He faltered again. Resumed to cut and faltered again. ”Wow this is hard…” He sighed, looking a bit annoyed at the paper, which wasn’t even halfway cut yet. “And then you bumped into me, because you weren’t really looking forward and was distracted by something. My drink spilled over me and…” Another falter followed with an annoyed huff. “You were so sorry, you kept apologizing” A few scissor movements without saying anything. ”You looked so cute; I couldn’t even take my eyes for you.” His stands stopped moving at all. “You were so embarrassed you almost looked like you were about to cry, but you looked to beautiful I can’t even describe it with words, you were apologizing and muttering about how you had the most horrible day ever. You were wearing all whites which made you look more angelic than ever. I couldn’t even say anything. It was the first time I understood the meaning of being rendered speechless by the sheer beauty of someone and I'm friends with Hyunjin! You were just so captivating. There was something so enchanting about you! And then you offered to buy me coffee and to pay for my dry-cleaning. That was when I noticed that my shirt was dirty. Honestly I didn’t give a damn about it I had clothes to change into at the studio but I agreed, because it meant that I would see you again. I quickly gave you my number and left with Hyunjin saying that I was busy and all. Honestly, I left so quickly because I was afraid you would change your mind. Usually I’m confident and everything but you just made me feel so nervous! “Changbin smiled softly, his eyes gentle and loving, looking at you with all the love in the world. You were speechless. Maybe even seconds away from crying, because hearing him talk about meeting you, sharing his thoughts…You couldn’t even begin to describe how it made you feel. You felt so loved and cherished and appreciated. Listening to this, you felt like a hero of a most touching romance book or a movie who gave a damn.

Smiling Changbin continued. “And that evening when you texted me I was so overjoyed! You asked me when was I free and I…” You didn’t let him finish, not giving a damn about anything, you wrapped your hands around him and kissed him.

You could feel Changbin’s hands fumble for a second. He clearly wasn’t expecting you to kiss him like that. He felt stiff for a second but he quickly regained his senses and leaned into the kiss. You heard a small thud, he must have thrown away scissors and papers somewhere away, because in a second his arms, free of anything, held you oh so tightly, as if he was afraid of letting you go.

“I love you!” you muttered against his lips, as you leaned in to kiss him some more.

Suddenly Changbin leaned back. Bewilderment written all over his face. Honestly he was a sight to behold. With his hair all messy from your wondering hands, cheeks all flushed. His glasses he decided to wear today sitting a bit crooked on his nose. His lips looking swollen and being most prettiest shade of pink from your kissing. God you loved him.

“What did you say?” His voice trembled, his wide eyes looking at yours, searching for answers.

You returned the confused stare. What was he getting at? Did you say something?

“You love me?” Changbin looked like he couldn’t believe his own words.

As the realization of your slipup hit you felt your face flush with embarrassment. Suddenly all you wanted to do was to crawl somewhere and hide.

“Baby…” Changbin held your face gently and made you look at him. “Do you love me?”

Unable to hide it anymore you nodded your head before answering.  “I do. I love you.”

Changbin looked at you, his face portraying all sorts of emotions, you couldn’t really descipher. “I’m sorry. I know we haven’t been dating for that long. But I love you. A lot. I really love you…”

You didn’t even have time to even blink before his lips were on yours. He held you so tight as his lips devoured yours. This kiss was nowhere near countless small loving kisses you had shared before this. This was just something else. Something so raw, so passionate, so full of love and longing. It was whole another experience. You had never been kissed like this before. It made you feel so alive. Like there was this fire inside of you, making you feel ignited. You felt like you were on top of the world, like anything was possible and reachable. You felt truly alive.

Alive and falling.

And you did fall.

Changbin had deemed it necessary to just fall with you on top of him on the sofa.

Your sofa creaked in distaste for the sudden weight but both of you chose to ignore it. Choosing to kiss each other instead. Truth be told, you wouldn’t even give a damn if it broke into a million pieces right now.

“I love you!” Changbin whispered against your lips. “I love you.” Another peck. “I love you so much!” He grinned against your lips. “God I’m so happy I could die.” Another short but loving kiss followed by countless another, not limiting to your lips. He kissed you everywhere he could reach you.

“Please say it again.” He asked you after making sure to cover every visible part of your skin in kisses.

“I love you Binnie.” Smiling you caressed his cheek, loving how he leaned into your touch. His eyes looking at you with so much love, shining oh so beautifully they could rival any star in the universe.

Your heart had never felt fuller.

It was surely a miracle how seemingly most uneventful and regular day at first became most memorable and special day for you. And you hoped it would be followed with many more days like this with Changbin making them more memorable and special with you.

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[asarigg]

Inside the Character's Mind: Part 6

CHILDHOOD. SLY AND KOUJAKU. THE AVOIDANT BEHAVIOR: part 3

As if all that wasn’t already enough, at the end of the Re:connect, this happens. Aoba thinks to himself that this is not what Koujaku wanted, as much as Sly wants to think that it is, that he’s in the right. As if what he has done has helped the Koujaku inside, the one who’s like him, the true Koujaku, to come out. As if they could be free inside that cell.

Koujaku reacts to Aoba’s thoughts. Sly thinks for a moment that it’s his imagination, but when Aoba repeats his thoughts, Koujaku says his name. Koujaku, who despite not having articulated a single word all this time, weeks, months, says his name as soon as Aoba “speaks”, that’s what I’m talking about when I mention their spiritual connection, that’s how strong it is. It happening after such a different sex scene, where neither of them can say no, nor show any kind of rejection, is just a reminder that they are both locked away, suffering, and that they will stay there watching this happen day after day until the day they die, not being able to see, or touch, or call each other’s names, or say “I love you” or anything they once wanted to say. They can only just watch each other wither away.

These thoughts of “This isn’t what Koujaku wanted” are very interesting because just like Sly thought, Koujaku really wanted Aoba to accept and love him. But the last thing he wants is having Aoba reciprocate him just because that’s what Koujaku wants. He’d rather be rejected, and even die in the extreme case of the situation hurting Aoba, than having him living something he doesn’t really want, that he doesn’t feel in his heart. Giving himself to Koujaku letting him do whatever he wants without thinking twice, without thinking about his own wishes. A life that doesn’t respect Aoba’s wishes is a nightmare for him. Just like he says in the confession scene “All I can remember is that I didn’t want to touch you like that”.

I mentioned that they don’t treat the tattoo as something that changed Koujaku, but as someone else inside his mind. When Sly appears before him, Koujaku immediately knows that he’s not Aoba, but has a hard time believing it, because physically he’s the same but white. He doesn’t know what’s going on, he can’t process it, but he knows. And the thoughts that tell him that the man in front of him is not Aoba are in red, like someone else’s, with some lowercase and some uppercase, growing more intense as the madness and anger of his tattoo reflects through. Doesn’t it remind you of how Sly’s thoughts appeared in the middle of the screen when Aoba was in charge?

Sometimes I wonder what Sly’s real intention was here. In theory he wants to break Koujaku and bring out the beast because that’s the part of Koujaku that he sees himself reflected in, that destructive entity, his darkest, true side, his pure animal instinct. Exactly what Sly is.

But he still tells the sane Koujaku that he loves him and wants to convince him that he’s Aoba. If that had worked then what would he do next? Because he truly believes that’s what he wanted to hear, and when the narration returns to his point of view he tells us that his love for Koujaku is true. Obviously locked in a cell it would be difficult for anyone to believe him, and Sly wouldn’t get him out of there anyway when he wants to keep Koujaku for himself. But then why does he keep trying to convince him, over and over again, even when Koujaku still doesn’t recognize him as Aoba any time he wakes up? Would he have been satisfied with a sane Koujaku, with those restrictions he hates, just because he accepted his words? It’s only when he sees that Koujaku won’t buy it, no matter what he tells him, that he changes his strategy.

And it’s in this scene that we see Koujaku in control for the last time, and again the last thing he says before losing his mind is Aoba’s name. This ending makes us see how Koujaku once again enters a cycle of abuse. He has gone from being his father’s slave, to Ryuuhou’s, and now Sly’s, and he will probably never get out of that cell alive. He no longer has prayer beads protecting him, only chains imprisoning him.

Sly is aware of what he has done, and he believes that since he has destroyed Koujaku’s consciousness/spirit, it’s only fair that he is the one to destroy his body, not only fair but it even seems like an attractive idea, to die at his hands (Sly try not to be Ryuuhou challenge). I really like this dialogue where Sly tells Koujaku that he can tear off his flesh if he wants, on the condition that he stays. Staying with him, a reflection of his desire to feel loved, accepted, after so many years of abandonment. After hearing Koujaku speak back to Aoba, it must feel like a punch to the stomach to think for a moment that he’s wrong with what he’s chosen for the two of them, to think that Koujaku doesn’t really love him.

Having him locked in a cage somehow is perfect to prevent the slightest chance of Koujaku walking away, as well as keeping him in this state, unable to speak, unable to think, unable to reject him. It’s because of these things that I usually think that at least at the beginning the relationship with Koujaku in a good ending would be quite turbulent. He would like to flirt with Koujaku, but when he realizes that he really feels love for him, he feels vulnerable, weak, and needs to protect himself because the people who were supposed to always be with him and protect him, abandoned him. And Koujaku somehow “abandoned” him once too. So before exposing himself to that, he would rather push Koujaku away. Sly would always come back to him, because as much as he wants to walk away he can’t, he needs Koujaku to stay by his side. It doesn’t matter if it’s love or hate, Sly will take it because it’s intense, real and raw.

Fun fact: Sly and Beast Koujaku both have golden eyes, when they “transform”. Everyone has those three sides of their conscience but Aoba’s just have a distinct personality and identity each, which I think might lead to thinking that beast Koujaku might have a personality of his own. I think he’s somewhere in between, he’s obviously not like them, but he’s definitely his own entity. Like some kind of natural force, like rain, wind, the energy of the cosmos, possessing him, something more abstract than a spirit or god, which we usually see as human or animal-like appearance wise.

The first thing that strikes us when we see Aoba is that his design radically changes. When Sly takes control of his body it’s not like he suffers any physical changes, besides the shine of his eyes, however here he turns completely white. The only time we see something like that happen is when we see the true forms of Sei and Aoba, but those black marks don’t appear. This is what makes me wonder if the white color has something to do with those forms, as if it were some kind of symbolism of Sly “breaking free” and being himself, without restrictions, without Reason, but they don’t add the black marks to not spoil it, or because it looks like shit with the design, or because it simply has nothing to do with that.

The white color is the color of death, mourning, the color with which the deceased are dressed. A sterile color, without impurities, highly related to the spiritual world. Many white flowers are commonly used in funerals, usually Buddhist, such as the white chrysanthemum, used for its meaning of truth and sincerity. Aoba wears a white kimono and also gives one to Koujaku. These traditional elements could be there just to remember Koujaku but nothing in this document could ever be simple of course.

The hair of a dead person is considered to turn white after a certain period of time, meaning that the hair is no longer a source of impurities, it can't be possessed by an evil spirit, and can be transported beyond the border that marks the separation between the sacred realm of the dead and the ordinary world of the living.

His skin, his characteristic blue hair, his eyes and his clothes turn completely white because at this point Aoba is no longer there. Not in a literal sense, of course, but in a figurative sense, Aoba is dead. And this is basically the same thing that happens with Koujaku. They are both reborn, destroyed, spiritually dying so that something else can be created, the ID, the instinct of destruction, the two beasts freed from the bodies that held them prisoners.

His clothes in general resemble those of a Miko, with a more “fantastical” and sexualized appearance. This post talks about it as well. Again it’s a reference to the spiritual realm, their religious side and how Aoba/Sly is an object of devotion, of how Aoba is somewhat a channeler for Koujaku. Just like there are rituals that call the gods to our world, like I’ve said in the section about hair, which serves as a connection with gods, Aoba is the only thing that connects Koujaku with this world, the only reason why he’s still alive.

[hellishjoel]

guardian angel

536 words / pairing: frankie morales x f!reader

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word: freezing

warnings/information: war, injury, blood, medical-related stuff, angst, frankie harbors secret feelings for you

a/n: I wrote half of this whilst at the car dealership for 5 hours so you all get ANGST! my banners are by @saradika-graphics. shoutout to @berryispunk and @lady-bess for putting this together on @fanfictionoverload!

The chopper’s blades roar above you, but with each heavy blink, the sky turns brighter, and the rhythmic whoop whop whoop in your ears grows distant. 

All sounds echo and leave a ringing sensation that makes your head feel a strike of pain. You whimper and writhe against the stretcher, willing yourself to pass out to evade the agony. 

Every time you open your eyes, you see something different: the tail rotor spinning, the doors to the cockpit closing shut, and the air thickening as you take off until your body feels weightless. 

“Easy now,” a protective voice barks. The man’s dark waves whip around in the wind, his hat keeping them tame. The roar of the chopper faded, but Frankie���s voice stayed steady, a lifeline pulling you back.

The rotors are loud, whipping dust and debris into the air upon takeoff. “What happened?” Frankie’s pilot asks for clarity as they evade an ambush in a country they had no place being in. 

His hands tremble as they carefully search you for blood, his vision clouded by panic and his thoughts racing in a frantic blur. His training should take over—it’s what he’s prepared for, what he’s done countless times when life changes in an instant. He knows he should focus: take a breath, assess the situation, and help the person in front of him. But this is different. He’s not just saving anyone; he’s saving the woman he’s loved with an intensity he’s kept buried for years. Out of respect for the bond you share as partners in the field, he’s guarded that love like a secret, but now, with you in his arms, the weight of it feels impossible to ignore.

There was no room in war for love. 

The pilot snaps at him again, soaring through the air at a speed that has his lungs chasing lost breath. “She—was caught in the aftermath, there was an explosion, she didn’t pull back when we radioed, I think she was trying to get others to safety.” Of course, you were. War did a lot of fucked up things to people, but your humanity stayed constant. 

Every beat of the rotor felt like a countdown, and Frankie wasn’t ready to run out of time.

Your eyes peak open, and he can only imagine the unsteadiness you must feel. “I’ve got you, just stay with me, cariño. You’re gonna be okay.” His tone was reassuring, his hand in yours. Your grip was strong.

His other hand gently cradles your head. His fingers retract at the warm blood that drips crimson down his fingers. “Definitely got blown back. She’s got a hit to her head. Maybe a concussion.” 

Frankie’s no doctor, but you’re looking at him with eyes that prays he’s a God, someone who can save you and be your guardian angel. 

“Frankie,” your teeth chatter, “I’m f-freezing, please don't let me go.” 

Not a moment later, he’s securing a heated blanket over your front and squeezing your hand tighter, not wanting you to lose your hold. “We’re almost to base. They’ll get you patched up, okay? You're gonna be okay, baby.”

You close your eyes and interlock your fingers with Frankie’s. With your hand in his, he silently vowed that losing you was never an option.

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[admirationandromantics]

Forced Confession

He would. We've already seen it!!! Anyways, this does not feature some of Josh's "darker" methods, but just early game banter. I tried a little with just the two boys, but let me tell you, I struggle so incredibly much with the guy pov. I still think it worked out. You basically got two scenarios and the locked-in bedroom-bit. Enjoy <3

Word count: 1,4k (Unedited)

imagine josh trying to set you up with chris kinda like he tried to do with chris and ashley, he makes comments about you to chris pissing him off and getting him all riled up, he sends you off to do some tasks together until he locks you both in some bedroom at the lodge and he's kinda forced to confess to you 👀👀 -anon

“You know, she’s really hot, if you don’t do anything about it, Mike might” Josh tells Chris, stopping him in his tracks. 

“Dude, please, don’t rush me” 

“Oh come on, she’s not going to wait forever, you’ve been a perfect gentleman, now get going with it!” 

Chris furrows his brows, unsure about how to react. It’s true, you guys have been walking around the bush for too long, and now, you might set your sights on someone else. At the same time, if he did confess, and you didn’t feel the same, he’d ruin everything you guys had, everything you’d built up. 

“Man, I know, but what if something goes wrong, it might”

“Or you might fuck until dawn, and to be honest, I think I’m right” 

“I don’t know” 

Josh sighs, shaking his head in disbelief. His friends were dumb as shit, and it annoyed the hell out of him. If you guys just got done with it already, there’d be so much less tension in the room. 

“Okay, proposal. If you take her against that tree right there, I’ll give you fifty dollars”

“What?” 

“Seventy if I can tape it” 

“What, no, absolutely not” 

“You had your chance” 

***

A loud smack is heard, and both mine and Josh’s heads turn to the window. Chris is not there anymore. The lodge lock was frozen, and we had to find another way in. Chris seemed like he had a plan, and Josh and I followed through, managing to open a window and looking inside. Or, falling inside, at least Chris did. He lets out a loud whine, and Josh helps me up on the box to look inside. The clumsy blonde is laying on his back, on the floor, eyes pressed tightly together and arms laying weakly in each direction. I give him a look. This man needs to be more careful. Josh appears beside me, using the frame of the window for stability. 

“I should’ve paid more attention in climbing class” 

“You mean gym?” 

I let out a laugh as Chris gets up, groaning in pain. 

“You okay, Chrissy?” 

“Yeah, yeah” he mumbles, waving his hand. I look deeper inside the cellar. Everything’s dark and creepy, and I would definitely prefer to wait outside with the others. 

“Okay, you next” Josh exclaims, hand laid out as if asking for a dance. 

“What, absolutely not. Have you seen the inside?” 

“Believe it or not, but I have” he smirks, shaking his head to Chris. I roll my eyes, everyone’s being a prick today. Especially this guy with his suggestive comments and small favours. 

“Fine” I conclude, starting to climb. I get one leg in, laying flat on my stomach as I try to get through, hopefully safer than Chris. 

“Incoming!” Josh shouts, pushing me inside. I yelp, my whole body falling inside, muscles tightening and eyes closing, waiting for the impact. Instead of a concrete floor, two strong hands grab me, a little weakly at first, but then tightening the grip. I open my eyes, seeing Chris looking down worriedly, holding me bride style. 

“And there came the princess, off to the honeymoon guys!” he shouts, about to leave us. 

“Are you fucking insane, Washington?” I yell at him, cheeks flustered from my position. I try not to think about it, but every time I turn my eyes, he’s already staring at me. 

“No, just getting things going, you know?” 

“Man, be careful won’t you? She could’ve gotten hurt” Chris adds, hands grabbing me harder. I have to look away, ashamed by how turned on I get by his hands and grip. 

“Nah, you wouldn’t have let that happen. Enjoy yourselves, though not too much!” Josh finishes, jumping down from the box and leaving us in the cellar. 

“Um, you can put me down now” I say, smiling up at him. He looks as if in a trance, eyes big and sparkly. My request makes him shake his head, nodding and gently letting me down. I don’t miss the opportunity to caress his chest, his jacket a little open. Hopefully, the touch is so subtle he doesn’t notice. 

“Of course, of course. Let’s find the bathroom” 

***

Sam walks up to me, head tilted in an innocent manner. A way that makes it feel… not so innocent. 

“Hey, I left my towel in the guest room, can you grab it?” 

“Can’t you?” I ask back, everything feeling out of place. Something’s up, and I don’t know what. 

“Josh is waiting for me in the cellar, to get the warm water running, I’m about to go down, can you just grab it, please?” 

I nod, giving her a sceptical ‘sure’, making her smile. She walks away, and I wait for a couple of seconds, just to check that this isn’t some set-up. After about 20 seconds, I make my way to the room. I would’ve seen or heard her by now if she was watching or planning something. 

The hallway is empty, the only sound being my boots on the dark wood floor. This year feels different than before. Something’s in the air, and that scares me. Maybe Josh is planning something? It wouldn’t be the first time. Sometimes I even wonder if he’s out to get me. Usually when it’s about Chris though. He can’t just accept that he doesn’t feel that way about me, and if I did something, he’d be freaked out and I’d ruin everything we have. I walk into the room, being met with the blonde himself. 

“Chris?” 

He turns, looking at me surprisingly, then shifts his gaze around the room. Before either of us can put two and two together, the door smacks shut, a small click coming from the other side. Shit, those little fucks. 

“Hey!” I yell, banging on the door. A load of snickers are heard from the outside, making me yell louder and hit harder. Chris sighs, walking over to me and trying a calmer approach. 

“Guys, come on. We’re supposed to get ready to party all night long, right? Now let us out” 

“No fucking way!” Josh laughs, earning himself a high five from Sam. At least that’s what it sounds like. 

“What was it you told me a while ago? Oh, that day Chris was wearing a t-shirt, showing off his arms?” Sam teases, and I hit the door as hard as I can. Chris looks my way, intrigued by the continuity. Sam and Josh talks as if they’re on a children's tv show, each sentence clear and horrific to hear. 

“What did she say, Sam?” Josh jokes, making the whole situation worse. My cheeks flush, terrified of the next sentence. 

“Yeah, what did you say?” Chris asks, eyes wide and mouth slightly open. I shake my head. This cannot be happening. 

“I think it was something about being headlocked and fucked from behind while he flexes his muscles?” 

“I’m going to fucking kill you, Sam!” I shout, head in my hands from the humiliation. Fucking god, Christ, holy shit. I’ll be dead before I get to kill her. Being locked into a room with Chris, forcing him to hear everything. 

“Oh, what a coincidence Sam, do you know what dear old Chris said the other day?” 

“Oh, do tell!” Sam exclaims, clapping her hands in excitement. 

“I think it was that day she was wearing a skirt” 

I perk my ears, and suddenly intrigued myself. Now Chris was the one banging on the door, telling them to shut up. His ears are red, cheeks flushed and eyes glossy. Josh continues either way. 

“Something about him pushing her against the wall, lifting her leg until she’d be fully exposed and showing herself off to him while he pounds into her” 

My mouth falls open, looking over at an embarrassed Chris. He’s turned away from me, too ashamed to meet my gaze. Sadly, I know how he feels. Carefully, my hand makes it to his torso, grabbing a bit of his sweater and turning him around. My pulse skyrockets, his gaze darker than ever, tongue licking slowly over his lower lip. I lean forward, and before I can make my next move, he does it for me. My back is slammed against the door, lips meeting mine in a hungry, passionate manner, eating me up. My hands fly to his neck, pulling him closer while nails scratch his skin. 

“Oh shit, that thud was definitely not out of anger. We don’t want to hear this, Josh” Sam says, both of their footsteps walking down the hall, the sounds growing lesser and lesser from the distance. But honestly, no matter how close they are, I can’t really hear them. I’m too caught up with Chris’s small moans and groans, the way they vibrate down my throat.