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#note to self: don't fail this time
the-labyrinth-of-me · 2 months
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Wait did both Alice and Zane record Alan when he was at his lowest point? Didn't Alice make her exhibition to show the world what she sees? To show Alan the truth about himself? That it never was Scratch visiting and terrorizing her, but Alan himself? Did she depict his "self" and Zane depicted his "persona"? The two sides of him that he wishes he can eliminate bc they brought him into trouble (Scratch representing anger and the fallouts with paparazzi and stuff, Zane representing his self-destructive behavior with alcohol and drugs and the party nights)? The both sides that caused his marriage to start falling apart? Was that the reason Zane made that video of Alan when they were on that booze and drug-fueled bender while working on the Return manuscript? Is this party video the companion piece?? Alan's downward spiral, same as Alice's photos? Do they fucking work together aasdffjfjfkfk
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yueebby · 9 months
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happy wife, happy life  — gojo satoru
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synopsis. not fawning over his wife may prove to be harder than gojo thought.
contents. fluff, gojo is so whipped for his wife and everyone is tired (whats new), ooc gojo?
notes. this was pure self indulgence. i wanted to slander and coddle gojo all at once and this was it teehee :3
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the first thing you hear when you stand up to leave the staff meeting is a wolf whistle.
“looking good,” satoru looks you up and down. you roll your eyes playfully, your husband’s behavior is not foreign to you. he taps your upper thigh, dangerously close to your butt as you take your leave. however, the others in the room don't take kindly to the action.
“highly inappropriate behavior gojo,” utahime mutters under her breath from across the table. beside her, nanami is giving your husband a hard stare. 
satoru pays no mind to them though, smiling up at you as you walk out of the room. you shake your head when he continuously blows a series of kisses. he ignores your rejection, opting to mouth crude comments instead.
the moment the door shuts, the strongest sorcerer immediately deflates, disinterested in whatever matters the rest had to discuss about. 
“i don’t know how she puts up with you,” utahime takes a long sip out of her cup of tea. beside her, shoko snorts.
“probably for his body.” shoko is not unfamiliar with satoru’s antics, having witnessed it since his rowdy school days. she applauds him for coming far with you, but it was still fun to tease him.
gojo crosses his arms, emitting a disgruntled sound. “and my golden personality?”
nanami sighs, “ieiri’s conclusion is most likely right.”
the limitless user wiggles his finger playfully. “nanamin, how scandalous of you to fantasize about my body! i’m a married man y’know~” 
nanami looks like he has eaten something sour. unlike you, nanami’s attitude towards gojo has not softened as the years passed.
“i’m surprised she’s still with you.” utahime snickers. “she’s a sensible woman and you’re–” 
satoru frowns at her statement.  he’d never thought about how you felt about his behavior. perhaps that was his fatal flaw. gojo satoru had a nasty streak of negligence. and the last time he failed to notice someone dear to him —   
“well i’m glad she ended up choosing me, yeah?” his frown is quickly covered up by the wide smirk on his face. he leans back on his chair that’s starting to feel less comfortable by the second. the chair creaks under the weight of his body. honestly, how old are these old wooden things? “as much as i’d like to keep chatting about my lovely wife, i’d like to get this meeting over with so i can see her again.”
the rest of the meeting ensues as usual.
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“sensei has been weird… right?” itadori offers his hand after knocking megumi down during a sparring match. the black haired boy grunts as he is pulled up.
“if by weird, you mean normal.” megumi glances back at you and gojo who are watching intently at the first and second years practicing close combat on the training field. it was a bit peculiar to see satoru not throw himself all over you. gojo without pda is like a jigsaw puzzle missing its most essential piece, leaving the overall picture incomplete and lacking the electrifying energy that defines his existence. 
“i feel like i should be happy, but it’s unsettling to see him not initiating some misconduct. do you think they’re fighting?” nobara is panting on the grassy floor. she raises her hand in surrender when maki leaps in to take her head off with a spear.
maki retracts her blade, turning back to observe you and gojo, “nah, gojo would fold at her command.” 
“salmon.”
from across the training field, you turn to your husband nervously, “why are they staring at us?”
satoru hums, his blindfolded gaze focuses on the field in front of you, “hm, maybe they’re admiring their very beautiful [name] sensei.” the blindfolded man pauses. compliments should still be okay– right? satoru can’t imagine a life without lavishing you with love, yet he will content himself with gently sprinkling you with affection. 
you smack his shoulder playfully. to your surprise, your husband doesn’t reciprocate with some form of physical affection. you tilt your head, perplexed. 
quickly dismissing it, you yell at your students to continue their training.
you don’t notice the way satoru clenches his fists, keeping his eyes trained anywhere but you.
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the next time satoru is tempted by your presence is when he comes back home after a mission. it was a walk in the park, but the heavy stack of paperwork that followed it had depleted his energy. all he wanted was to snuggle in bed with his wife, selfishly keeping you all to himself.
and you’re not making it easier to resist with the way you warmly greet him with a smile in nothing but a small cotton tee and those tiny pajama shorts. eyes up, eyes up, eyes up, satoru mentally chants.
he thinks he might actually die.
“toru!” you abandon the book you had been reading to pay your husband taxes (kisses that satoru demands he must have). “you’re home awfully late.”
“mission… paperwork,” his clipped response is mumbled as he hurries past you and to your shared bathroom, avoiding your touch. satoru silently prays to the heavens that you don’t notice his suspicious efforts as he makes his way to take a much needed ice cold shower.
you stand in your spot in confusion, letting your husband go. slowly, you start to connect the pieces of satoru’s strange behavior from his refusal to touch you to his sudden responsible disposition. gojo satoru never does paperwork– not unless you bribe him with a dozen kisses. speaking of kisses, you don’t even remember the last time he had demanded one. something was definitely wrong. 
without missing a beat, you quickly follow your lover’s trail into the bathroom.
to your delight, your husband had failed to lock the door. in the hush of your silence, you can hear the subtle rustle of satoru's garments.
his sky blue eyes go wide when he sees you walk through the door.
“toru… is there something wrong?” your voice is careful. 
the white haired man in front of you nervously laughs as he covers his bare chest, “geez, ask me out to dinner first.” 
“gojo satoru.”
your husband winces at his full name being used, but he puts on another mask. a faux smile plays on his lips as he shrugs. “i don’t know what you mean, gojo.” 
your heart drops at his insistence to shut you out, but you stand your ground. with sheer determination, you walk up to your husband, closing the gap between the two of you. you cup his cheek with a hand while you start to lean closer, your lips nearly brushing.
satoru shuts his eyes, inhaling a deep breath to regain composure. he even sucks in his lips, making him look utterly ridiculous. despite the dangerous allure of your proximity, he resolves to stand firm.
"you won’t even kiss me anymore! satoru, this is absurd. what's happening?" you distance yourself, seeking answers.
despite his towering stature, a snort escapes you as satoru resembles a mere child when mumbling something under his breath.
"come on, use your big boy words."
"i don't want to drive you away," he avoids making eye contact now that his blindfold is off. "i know i can be a bit overwhelming at times."
upon hearing his excuse, you snort loudly, “seriously?”
“seriously.”
“i can’t believe i married such an idiot.” you huff, wrapping your arms around his neck.
satoru pouts, “you’re breaking my heart wifey.”
your lips softly kiss the corner of his mouth. like it was muscle memory, satoru’s lips chase yours even after you pull away. you smile.
“for such a genius, you really are stupid ‘toru.” you flick his forehead. he whines and you know it didn’t hurt, yet you entertain him by leaning up to kiss his injury. “believe it or not, i married you for reasons beyond your pretty face and body.”
“you think i’m pretty?” his eyes shine bright as they lovingly gaze into yours. you take one hand to cup his cheek. he nuzzles his face into it.
“of course you’d say that.” you laugh softly. “but honestly, i’m offended that you thought i would ever be annoyed by your affections. might i remind you that we have been madly in love since our youth? i found myself captivated by your ability to love effortlessly, and the way you hopelessly pined for me for years? i knew i was a goner. that… and your bank accoun–”
satoru kisses you with an intensity that leaves you feeling blissfully lightheaded. lost in the haze of the moment, he showers the rest of your face with tender, wet kisses, and you stand there, surrendering to the sweet assault.
upon withdrawing, satoru wears a broad grin. "i was an idiot today, wasn't i?" you nod, breathless. "how about i make it up to you tonight?" he proposes, drawing you close. you are all too familiar with that feral grin adorning his face.
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devosin · 2 months
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" 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐖𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐊 "
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It wasn't the usual request, when you asked your partner to do your make-up . . but now you're here, while he tries his best to paint you like a canvas . . Ft. dorm leaders + ortho & grim
gender neutral reader / established relationship / some sections are suggestive / mean!vil(?!) / slightly self indulgent / squirmy / fidgety reader / semi-edited / proofread (I skimmed it over a couple times) / platonic for ortho & grim / confident!Idia(?) . . I got carried away / slightly rushed on some parts (Azul) /
a/n: new account who this? (old account is @/cupids-chambers)
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"Ah— fuck", Leona mutters, clearly displeased, leaning closer into your face to inspect his mistake, carelessly he dragged his finger down the bottom of your lip, hoping to wipe away the remnants of his careless mistake.
"Happy now?", he asked, leaning back, crossing his arms as a shit-eating grin adorned his face, admiring the work of art he had created on your face, though he'd never quite admit how gorgeous you looked, right now—if he was an artist, you'd be his magnum opus—of course a brilliant art piece can only be made with an equally brilliant muse.
Your hand gently grazed over your face—Leona was surprisingly good at make-up, despite struggling in the beggining, you accidentally let a word of praise slip past your lips—which earns you a cocky chuckle from the man—"Told ya', I'm great at everything."
Vil's hand gripped your thigh, holding your legs still and in place—his other hand, gently lifted your chin, facing you towards him, your gaze meeting his—"Hold still for me dear", were the words he spoke, his tone firm and commanding.
You could smell the cologne he used from this level of closeness—and you're sure that if you leant a little closer and stuck your tongue out, you'd be able to taste it—The familiar and comforting, clean earthy-musk scent, you've gotten so accustomed too, the scent whic—"Y/n, darling—are you listening?"
When you don't respond, he clicks his tongue in annoyance, the grip on your thigh tightening in response, and you winced at the shift in demeanor, "Ah my apologies, I did tell you to hold still . . . did I not, my love?"
Malleus's hand grazed the side of your cheek, his movements gentle as he tilts your face towards his, your eyes finally making contact.
His gaze seemed so focused—so entirely enraptured by you—he noted all the details of your face, and engraved it in his brain—the curve of your nose, the plump soft flesh of your lips . . The way your pupils dilated upon eye contact—you were so perfect, tooth-rottenly sweet.
He gripped the liner in his free hand, eyeing your face curiously, "Ah—close your eyes for me, my dear—please?" . . He watched as you closed your eyes tightly, as if on instinct—'Dear seven why were you so fucking adorable?'
He chuckled softly, "This won't do—" he spoke casually, his thumb gently traced the bottom of your lips, "Relax my love, stop squirming . ."
"Rosebud, I don't think I was the right person to ask for help on something like this . . ", Riddle mumbles, as he runs the brush through your face with such accurate precision, although he seemed to be so very against the idea of doing your makeup, aware that he'd probably mess up . . Riddle still found himself agreeing to your request.
"Stop smiling this isn't funny", he spoke, his voice was gentle—although you could tell, he was trying to sound angrier, though he was failing miserably.
Riddle had done a great job, despite his various protests, he was practically straddling you, with how close he was right now, Riddle was asked to do something well, and he was committed . . . even if that meant being this close to you . . Something, he unsurprisingly, wasn't use to—or at least something he didn't personally initiate often.
Kalim giggled as he fiddled around with the makeup brush in his hands, he carefully tapped the extra product off the blush before gently gliding the brush over your face—he tried his best to not overdo the blush.
Kalim had made quite a few mistakes during this whole process, on account of his fidgety hands and general inability to remain still—"There, all done!", he announced proudly, as you examine his work—"You look gorgeous", he mumbled out unconsciously.
Though at your lack of response he grew a bit concerned, "Ah—I'm sorry, I probably took a lot of time . . Right?", he asked, his tone more apologetic, than proud . . until he noticed the shift in your demeaner—"Though—as they say—you can't rush perfection!" he joked, trying to lighten the air once more, thankfully it worked, as he watched the concern on your face morph into that of content.
Azul held the eye shadow palette up in the air, trying to figure out which shade would best suit the look he was going for, he had quite limited options . . not that you had a few eye shadow options, just that the pallets you had, had a limited shade range.
Azul dapped the brush into the navy eye shadow, "I'll use this as a base, if that's okay with you?" he asked for confirmation, and only proceeded after you nodded. "You know . . you could be a makeup artist . . I heard Vil's looking for a new on—" you spoke up with a smile, a teasing edge to your words that caused Azul to smile.
His fingers lightly tapped the side of your cheek, "No, this is just for you, all for you."
Idia was hunched over, in front of you, hand gripping the bottom of your chin, lifting you up to meet his gaze, "Could you like, part your lips for me?", he asked, gripping the lip liner in his other hand, "Yes, just like that" he grinned as you followed his demand, his thumb dragging just below your lip, pulling it just a bit more apart.
He dragged the liner carefully, following the outline of your lips, then grabbed the lip shade he had in mind, filling in your lips . . "Shit, got put too much on—" he paused, "let me just—", he leaned down, your lips meeting his for a soft, lingering kiss, "there . . perfect . ."
Ortho fiddled around with your lip options, fingers digging through your makeup bag, for something that could work. Well, you found out Ortho could match your makeup with colour theory, artificial intelligence and all. But what started as a harmless experiment, and fun activity, now had you glued to a chair for the past hour.
Ortho held up his lipstick of choice, "How about this one?" he asked curiously, and before you could respond Grim piped in, "Too dark, makes them look like a—", your glare cut him off, "never mind, it looks great! . . henchman looks amazing in everything!!"
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@ devosin , do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work/theme without prior permission and or confirmation.
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frmisnow · 1 month
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1:37AM : BAROLO ! - (nsfw)
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summary. you had been avoiding your ceo as best as you could after the intimate drunk meeting you had shared, so what do you do now when you both are forced on a business trip?
notes. second chapter! hope y'all enjoy🍷✶𝄞
warnings/includes. (3.3k words / smut!) non idol! ceo! jungkook x f! employee! reader, smoking (reader's first time), masturbation heavely implied, fingering, giving m. head, pussy eating, drunk!!!, tad bit of angst at end
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"we didn't sleep together, you fell asleep on my coach, i wasn't going to take advantage of you"
his words from a few days ago remain firmly in your head. you had done so good at avoiding him: taking the long way to not walk by his office, instantly running off to god knows where when you saw him - only for the very man you've been dodging so well, to ask you to go on a business trip to milan.
the flight was quiet.
the only thing that was hearable was the sound of a lighter getting light up every hour or so. he smoked.
it was his private jet after all, you didn't blame him. your mind trails off to your ex once more, you had thought you had managed to get rid of him in your mind completely, but he always managed to sneak back in.
he resented smoking, called smokers 'self-indulged assholes' if they did it in public. he was the kind of man who thought the world revolved around sheerly him, to think that another person would calmly invade said-world with a bit of smoke, was beyond unforgivable for him.
you glance towards jungkook, taking in the calm assurance in his eyes as he takes another slow puff. he seemingly notices your stare, his tone soothing, "do you want one?"
you physically feel your ex trying to pull the hand you're reaching out to take what jungkook offered, back. but he doesn't succeed, you win. you had never smoked before, you go based of what you've seen in pop culture. lightning, drag, wasn't it?
you can visably see jungkook fighting a smile while he reaches out for the cig, hanging it between his very own lips as he leans forward in his seat, one of his hands gently guiding your fingers so the cigarette was now in between your own plush lips
you slowly breathe, the smoke stinging your lungs and making you cough. he lets out a tsk, clicking his tongue disapprovingly as he looks at you from under his eyelashes, "inhale deeper," the voice not mad, more like gentle scolding.
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the hotel room was mostly quiet, besides the soft hum of the AC and the faint noises of the dazzling city through the open window. you both had shared a few more words earlier, incrediably vague, until you parted ways to your respective rooms.
you couldn't quite fall asleep, you blamed it on loud milan when you in reality couldn't stop thinking about his fingers which had been on your lips, your fingers trace over them, imagining his tattoed ones doing just that. you had to ask him what the history behind those was, next time. next time?
your hands wander to your tits, where his eyes had lingered more then once if your memory didn't fail you. and you imagine his hand wrapping around yours, guiding you.
"i want you," the words you had whispered against his mouth replay in your head multiple times.
just as your fingers trailed further, there was an abrupt knock on the door. you glance at your phone: it's 1:37 a.m.
as you open the door you see a image of your boss, you haven't quite seen yet. jungkooks hair is visabily messed up, his shirt loose around the neckline. "couldn't sleep," he mumbles, his tone sounding almost like an confession, he shouldn't say, "do you want to take a walk with me?"
you give in, you don't want to give much thought into how weird it was for a boss to ask his employee out on a walk at almost 2am.
the uber drops you off at a 24hr shop which seemed out of part for the milan you've seen so far (through car windows)
"if you want a snack or a smoke or something," he looks at you, "and then we walk"
you don't know what prompts you to say, "wine" with so much confidence but you do regardless. please make me feel like that night, i want you the words linger in your head shortly, words you'd never say out loud.
if he's surprised he didn't show it, moreover he looked satisfied, pleased with your answer. and that's exactly what you liked about jungkook: he knew how to read the room. did he hear you touch yourself? maybe. did he mention it? no.
he leads you deeper into the store, towards the back where there were rows of alcoholic beverages, the lights dim. he moves to stand behind you, his chest almost touching your back, as he reaches to grab a bottle of barolo from a high shelf.
the music in the background is some indie tune, you had heard before, you nod your head along to the sound absentmindedly.
you can see him smile at the corner of your eye, not a smile that was mocking or finding something funny, more filled with general admiration.
"you like this song?" he asks, his voice quiet, nearly a whisper almost as if it was a secret while he placed the bottle down to the cashiers table, pulling out his card, black.
you nod with a genuine smile.
you end up settling down on a bench in a nearby park, opening the bottle. you sit crosslegged, looking over the park at night, genuinely intrested, "so what music do you like?"
"i like...indie stuff, mostly," jungkook responds, turning his head to look at you, the light night breeze running over his hair, "but i have a soft spot for a few italian punk rock songs from when i was younger."
"ever seen any of them live?" you ask, taking a sip from the bottle, "y'know you are in milan after all"
he can firmly smell your perfume. the same one that had stuck to his coach for days which made it simply unbearable to sit on it, without thinking about you.
jungkook laughs, the sound soft, almost as if it wasn't entirely voluntary. he runs a hand through his hair, the ends just falling back into his face. "no," he says, tilting his head back a little, "i haven't."
"maybe you should," you respond casually. you don't know why you were giving such tips to a business man with a multi-million empire to his knees. did he even have time to go to silly little concerts? what kind of life did he live?
he laughs again, you loved the sweet sound of it, "maybe i should," raising the bottle to drink once more, "would you go with me?"
you reach out to take another large sip, you need some more alcohol in your system to answer him, "maybe"
he watches you intently as you reach for the bottle again, his eyes flickering to your throat as you tilt your head back to drink.
"maybe," he says again, smiling to himself, "that's so vague of you, maybe."
handing the bottle back to you, repeating, "maybe," his voice teasing.
you repeat the same word once more as you both laugh. you can feel the alcohol begin to warm you from the inside, the feeling of slight dizziness setting in.
meanwhile he's looking at you, his eyes wandering over your face, resting on your mouth, the way your lips are tinted red from drinking the wine.
"why are you looking at me like that?" you mutter though your tone grazed on something reminding a joke. stupid fucking question.
jungkook's smile remains if not widening while he moves closer, "how am i looking at you?"
"like you want to fuck me," you mumble, chuckling at your words like it was a ridiciulous thought on it's own.
"does that bother you," he whispers, his voice low, his words just a little bit slurred from the alcohol, "knowing i want you like that."
you raise your eyebrows, taking another sip, "so you're admitting it?"
jungkook raises his eyebrows, copying your movement, a lazy, almost cocky smile on his face. he grabs the bottle from your hand, raising it to his lips, drinking a mouthful of wine, holding eye contact with you as he does. and you're convinced he wants to see you dead.
he hands the bottle back to you, his smile still present on is face, "yes," he says, his voice low, the sounds almost like a soft moan, "I'm admitting it."
"you're actually so sexy when you're like this," you respond, clearly just as intoxicated as he was. 'like this' when you are not scolding me for not bringing the right documents, is the part you leave out.
he laughs, louder if that wasn't the alcohol talking. "sexy when I'm drunk," he teases, his words slurred, "is that it?"
"maybe," you babble which just makes the both of you giggle again.
he takes the bottle out of your hand, setting it down on the ground, the empty glass making a small clinking sound as it hits the concrete.
"you're drunk," he says, his words still a little slurred, the sound teasing, "i think you need to shut up."
you grin at this man's sheer audacity, replying, "i think you need to learn how to take a compliment properly"
jungkook just moves closer, not responding for a few seconds until you were so close that your noses touched, "you like compliments?"
he practically makes you lie down on that damn uncomfortable bench, "you want me to tell you how sexy you are? cause i will"
"i won't fuck you on a bench, kook"
"i never get to be just kook," he mumbles, something reminding a pout on his face, an adorable sight. "i'm always boss, or sir."
you don't know how to respond, you want him to be kook to you but that is something that is practically out of your control. so you moan.
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you can hear jungkook say something — something about the city, something aboout the driver's taste of music? the words slip through your head as soon as they are said and all you manage to do is laugh.
the car feels to fast, milan is way to blurry and for a second you seriously ask yourself if you had taken any drugs. jungkooks hand slides over your thigh as you tilt your head, letting out a breathy chuckle.
the chuckle turns into a suppressed moan as his fingers brush over your underwear. you can barerly think straight, dare tell him to stop though you wouldn't even want to, even if you could.
you nod or at least try to; you didn't know why in the first place, it’s hard to tell if your head is moving or if you’re just imagining it. your eyes are half-closed, barely able to focus on his face, but you can feel his fingers slipping under the edge of your panties, brushing against your slick, aching core. "you're so wet f' me"
you make a mental note to rate the uber driver five stars later, because of the sheer noises that man had to hear. you were incrediably grateful for the music covered it up at least a bit.
just as you were about to cum, the car came to a sharp stop. the poor driver's voice pulls you back to reality, announcing you've arrived to the hotel.
jungkook brings his juiced fingers to his lips, licking them with a small 'pop' noise. for a second you actually consider pushing him onto the dirty ground in front of the hotel and fucking him right then but you regain compusure through a groan.
you both stumble through the lobby if you saw it properly one of the large clocks showed it was 2:51am but there was a big chance that your eyes were fooling you.
he practically pushes you towards the elevator as the door closes, jungkook looks adorably confused at all the various floor buttons, his finger unsurerly moving from one to the other.
"don't think," you pull him closer by his shirt while jungkook's hands instantly craddle your face, no thoughts in his head. you press as many random buttons as you could while he presses his lips onto yours.
his hands get tangled in your hair, he pulls you even closer as if he wants to breathe your soul in, moaning into your mouth.
the elevator opens with a little 'ding' and you have to look around to see if it's the right floor, you had surprisingly gotten lucky. the hallway lights automatically turn on at your movement, they feel way to bright.
you both reach the door of his room as he fumbles with they keycard, trying to slide it into the lock, cursing under his breath whilst you laugh. the door refuses to open which just makes him release a giggle, cute very untypical, "how do these even work"
logicaly he should be a man who has opened multiple hotel doors like this before but it was most certaintly the alcohol in his system that made everything a bit to fuzzy to handle. jungkook finally manages to slide the card into the door, the light turning green with a small click.
he pulls you with him, tugging you towards the bed, his movements messy as he almost falls once on his way. flopping down onto the covers, pulling you on top so you're straddling him.
it's a pretty view, him under you. he really did look hypnotized in a way whilst you ran your fingers over his facial features, they are not as rough as you thought, on closer inspection.
"you got to many clothes on," you mumble, removing your own shirt and shorts in a clumsy haste.
"then take them off"
you grin, your fingers moving to his shirt to pull it over his head, the action surprisingly slow and tender though it was probably the wine making your mind all foggy.
jungkook looks up to you like you are the moon and the sun, his eyes droopy, his words a stark contrast to his loving gaze, "you're taking to long, c'me here"
"you are in no position to give me orders," you reply, working on his pants.
his head falls back against the sheets, the smile on his face evident, "i think i am, i'm the big, mean boss man"
big, mean boss man - that's how you need to save him in your contacts, you chuckle at the thought, pulling away his boxers. his cock springs free, already hard and throbbing with need.
"shut up or no head," you don't wait for his response, leaning forward to press a tentative kiss onto the tip before taking him into your mouth, savoring the taste and texture.
jungkooks hands tighten in your hair, guiding you with a mix of need and tenderness while he bucks his hips. you move your head up and down with precision, taking him deeper with each passing minute.
he curses, curses in a manner you've never seen a man like him do. and you feel a sense of pride in knowing that you have this man practically wrapped around your finger or better said — mouth.
his release is sweet, warm. you swallow each drop especially when he asks you to clean him up, you lick it all off. here and there you look up to him with your lashes and he moans each time.
you can firmly feel something shift in the air when you release him with that little 'pop' noise, reminding of how he left you without an orgasm in that damn uber. at least you had made him cum.
following, he gently pushes you onto the bed. you look over to your right, evidently amused noticing a closed wine bottle on his night desk. perhaps it automatically came with the hotel, it seemed expensive.
a hazy thought lingers in your mind, a blend of the lack of sleep and the alcohol still coursing through your veins. you reach out for the bottle, fingers grasping the cool, smooth glass.
with a tipsy giggle you uncork the wine, bringing it to your lips to get a quick taste before ultimately pouring about a good one third of it over your tits.
you can barerly make out jungkook's face, why did you mind seem so hazy? but you can hear his words, "you're a mess" his tone isn't insulting rather he says it like it was a just a mere fact.
but he calmly licks the liquid of you with the same ease as you had done with his cum.
“such a fucking mess,” he repeats, his words softer now, almost affectionate, as he sucks his way down the curve of your tit, "my mess"
his hands wrap around your thighs, putting them on his shoulders. he raises his eyebrows at your state, "all for me?" it sounded like a question though it was clear he didn't expect an answer — he certaintly didn't wait for one either.
the feeling of his hot, wet tongue against your core is a stark contrast to the coldness of the wine-soaked skin in combination with the ac, creating a delicious tension that had you whining for more.
jungkook’s hands grip your thighs firmly, holding you in place as he works his mouth over you, each flick of his tongue and suck of his lips calculated to drive you to the edge of sanity. he alternates between gentle, teasing licks and more aggressive, demanding sucks, making sure you’re fully engulfed in pleasure, one way or another.
jungkook eats you out like it's a part of his job, with much care and ease. an grunt or a groan vibrating against you more often then not.
his name slips over your tongue multiple times, and you would've been embarrassed for your porn-like moans if it wasn't for the release washing over you.
it falls over you in one motion and it would've felt like to much if it weren't for jungkook: jungkook, who's fingers wander over your thighs and tummy gently as if trying to bring you back on earth. jungkook, who gives you all the time in the world and whispers reassuring little sweet nothings against the sensitive skin.
when he sees you're somewhat ready to function again, his arms softly lie you onto him, one of his hands working through your hair attentively while his other reached out and lit up a cigarette.
the room has a special scent — wine, sex cigs.
jungkook takes slow, deliberate drags as you trace patterns over his chest, circles, hearts. his fingers absentmindely moving to lightly drum over your back while he takes another hit.
“want a puff?” he asks, a smirk playing on his lips, and without thinking, you nod, your brain swimming in a delightful stupor. he brings the cigarette to your lips, and you take a tentative drag, the smoke filling your lungs.
“breathe it in, babe” he murmurs, the nickname slipping from his lips like a forbidden secret. “like you did before.”
you do as he says, managing it properly this time as he gives you an approving hum instantly going in for a kiss.
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you wake up with sunlight on your face, your first instinct is to smile, the curtains were open, did you forget to close them yesterday?
but as your senses sharpen, you realize something. something: or rather, someone is pressed against you. panic bubbles inside you as you register that jungkook lies beneath you, deep asleep, a peaceful smile grazing his face.
what had you done?
thankfully you remembered everything, though it was much more a curse then a blessing. you hadn’t wanted to cross this line.
there was no future here — he only desired you when you were both drunk.
and what was even worse was that you actually felt your heart clench when you looked at his clueless, oblivious face.
you wanted, no- you needed to disappear before the reality of this situation hits the both of you. it was a dick-move but that was what he had done that night, wasn't it?
but just as you begin to shift, a low, sleepy murmur escapes his lips, and he stirs beneath you. his eyes flutter open, a lazy smile making it's way onto his lips as he registers you on top of him, blissfully unaware of your inner conflict.
"good morning, babe," he reaches forward to brush one strand of yours behind your ear, you were convinced there was nothing currently working behind those eyes, "did you sleep well?"
🍓 tag list — @chansloverr , @marimarvelfan , @bxcndd , @1-in-abillion , @ahgasegotarmy116 , @copycat-namjesus , @malkaimoon , @geminiml95 , @taiwan0618 , @jungkookfics , @rrosiitas , @stuti2904
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amaranthineghost · 6 months
Text
THE MIGHTY HAS FALLEN (BUT YOU'LL RISE AGAIN, LOVE) ( max verstappen. )
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max verstappen x reader
after a tough race cut short, max pushes away any person around him, but not her. never her. she always picks up the pieces to put him back together.
authors note: I love max. I know he's not the self-deprecating typa guy, but in this, he is, OKAY. charles is after this <333
HE WAS A BOMB. the fuse getting shorter and shorter every minute that his patience was tested. everything around him seemed to irritate him more and more as he tried to keep himself from exploding, for pr's sake.
he just wanted to avoid the media all together, for obvious reasons, but he was contractually obligated to give his words to the journalists under the media tent. putting him under a microscope and asking questions that had an undertone of scrutiny in hopes of catching him break. he was close, but he wouldn’t.
it hadn’t even been a fault of his own, he rarely made those anymore. the car had caught fire, but not due to a mistake he had made, and even if it had been, he wouldn't have admitted it anyways. still he felt the guilt of his lack of performance, beating himself up after every question asked about his car and what had happened.
it was just stupid. the questions were stupid. the car was stupid. this whole race was stupid.
the pressure to perform, even in the best car on the grid, was high. despite his seat being secured for plenty of years to come, he still had expectations to meet and records to break.
it was obvious to everyone that max was hard on himself every time he didn't perform his best, his girlfriend especially noticing when she’d find him in his very luxurious driver's room sulking at even the slightest of a mistake made by him.
it didn't happen often, but when it did, she'd been there for him. he knew that.
he wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and never be seen again because world champions don't make stupid mistakes.
even if this hadn't been a mistake he made, he should've known. even if there was no possible way he could’ve, he should've.
he was raised to believe that he was only deserving if he had been first, that he was destined to fail after every second place or worse finish.
so it wasn't surprising when he thought he didn't deserve her. in comparison, or more like his eyes, she was simply perfect.
and she understood him, which not many people could because he wouldn't let anyone pick apart his brain like she did.
he locked his thoughts and feelings in the dark that shrouded his mind from early childhood trauma. he promised he would never let anyone see.
but he was never great at keeping such promises because it hadn't taken much for her to pick the lock to his brain. even though he wasn't ready to spill every detail of his upbringing to her, he trusted her.
and he didn't get to do that all too often.
the media had been brutal—he knew they would be—and yet it still crushed his mentality and faith in himself.
with his race suit around his waist despite having time to change beforehand, he walked through the paddock in shame at the early retirement.
it wasn't like this determined the outcome of his career because the next race, he'd be back on top. he didn't feel so sure of it though because all his thoughts were on this failure. what if he failed the next race?
what if he failed the whole season? what if he fails her?
unlikely, the people know, but he had so much confidence which had so easily crumbled when it got a little too hot. he wasn't sure of himself anymore.
anyone could see the turmoil bubbling underneath his skin, harsh waves crashing in the ocean of his blue eyes as he pushed past anyone and everyone.
the walk through the paddock was short, considering the red bull motorhome was the first of ten. max hastily entered through the automatic doors, skipping steps as he was eager to hide out in his driver's room.
he felt the eyes of the staff follow him down the hall until he disappeared quickly around the corner. he didn't want to be seen by anyone.
the door to his driver's room closed as fast as it was opened, but much louder. she heard the slam of the door echo down the hallway.
she didn't flinch, she just calmly greeted staff with smiles and left a bag of sweets on the table for them. she always brought something for the team, to celebrate every victory and despite this not being one, they still deserved it for working hard.
since she had gotten there not too long after him, she lingered around the lobby. she didn't want to be waiting around for him to show up and have him brush her off because he wasn't in the right headspace.
he would never mean to dismiss her, and she knew to give him at least a little time to himself to think and process things. she couldn't give him too much time though because she didn't want his self-deprecating thoughts to eat away at his confidence.
from what she analyzed from the staff and their demeanor, he'd probably caught them off guard when he slammed his door.
she wouldn't apologize for his behavior because she would make him do it when he cooled down.
so she hung around and made small talk with the sparse staff around to allow max a few minutes to himself before excusing herself down the hall.
she had a bomb to defuse after all.
the clack of her heels on the hard floors bounced off the walls, but she walked quietly enough so max didn't hear her coming. he knew she would though. he knew she would find him with his head in his hands, barely covered in sweat because he didn't race for more than three laps.
his face was still flush with disappointment though. he didn't want her to see him like this even though she was with him during his last disappointing race, but even though his singaporean grand prix finish wasn't great, at least he hadn't been out of the race.
max hadn't DNF’d in two years because he was simply just that good, and he still is. he just didn't feel like it.
his hands pressed so hard against his eyes, the blood vessels in them would have popped if he pushed any harder. he had taken off his red bull hat, he felt he didn't deserve the number one right now. it was thrown lazily onto the makeshift bed in his driver's room.
the room was practically silent, every so often interrupted by a deep sigh of disappointment that escaped his lips. he had sat there for a good couple or minutes, sulking.
when she reached his door, she held the bouquet of flowers she always got for him close to her body with one arm while she raised the other to knock. her hand only slightly hesitated before her fist made contact with the door and a few seconds later, she tried entering. it was locked, which was usual whenever he was brooding.
at first, when max heard the knock, he thought of all the people last on his list that he would want to see right now, but on the bottom of the list was the person he wanted to avoid the most right now.
his dad.
their relationship was rocky. he never supported max at any place unless it was on the very top of the podium, and even then max thought he looked unpleasant.
“go away,” was all max could mutter through his hands as his heart started to pick up the pace.
she sighed, shaking her head with a smile pulling at her lips, “max.” it was all she needed to say.
part of him didn't want to let her in, he didn't want her to see him like this, but he knew she was just as stubborn as him, if not more. he knew she would stand there all day if he didn't open the door to let her in.
and he would always let her in.
she heard the low creak of the sofa she could imagine him sitting on, but not his footsteps while he made his way to the door. she only knew he heard her when the lock clicked and the door slowly opened inwards to reveal the red-faced max verstappen.
she stood staring at him, her head tilted as she studied his face. he didn't move, he just watched her eyes dart around his appearance, and he felt himself getting hot under his fireproofs.
“are you going to let me in, verstappen?” she teased, a sly smile on her lips as she watched her boyfriend roll his eyes.
he scoffed, stepping aside, “don't call me that.”
“what?” she acted innocent, stepping into his driver's room with the fresh flowers, seeing the already prepped vase, “don't call you by your name?”
“you know what I mean.” though he tried to keep a straight face and act like he was still mad, he couldn't keep a smile from creeping onto his lips. she just had that effect.
she heard the door close and lock again as she took the wrapping off and placed the flowers in the vase. she shrugged at his words, her back still towards him, but she knew he had sat back down.
“you didn't have to get those,” he mumbled, “didn't win.”
she sighed, crumbling the wrapping in her hand and throwing it away before walking to where he sat. she stood in front of him as he looked up at her.
even with heels, he was still much taller than her and even though he was sitting, he reached barely below her chin.
she spread her arms to offer a hug to him, which he gratefully took, his arms snaking around the low of her hips. pressed against her chest, her arms wrapped around his head, running her fingers through his hair.
she felt him sigh against her skin, his eyes closing as they stayed like that for minutes without speaking. she felt him caress the bare skin of her thigh with his thumb.
when they finally pulled apart, his hands still laid firmly on her hips, his hair disheveled from the hug. she ran her hands through it to fix it and he only watched as she did so.
when she finally finished after only ten seconds because guy hair is a lot less complicated than women’s hair, he finally spoke up, “why are you dressed so uncomfortably?”
she was slightly taken aback, seeing as he was just moping about his race not even ten minutes ago and now commenting on her appearance. he only assumed she was uncomfortable, but unfortunately his assumption was correct.
“what do you mean?” she looked down at her attire, which isn't so different from the other wags that she hung out with.
his hand snuck around the back of her thigh and pulled up her leg, “I thought I told you to stop wearing heels, you always complain about them.”
“i’m fine,” she said, about to cross her arms, but her balance said otherwise so she settled them on his shoulders for support.
he gave her an incredulous look because every time she wore heels, without fail, she would complain less than an hour into wherever they were that she wanted to sit.
“okay, i admit i can't wait to get these things off,” she let out a deep breath, putting a hand on her hip, “but I'm supposed to be taking care of you.”
she said in his response to take the heels off her feet for her, a simple gesture really, but this was about him.
“do you want to talk about it?” she massaged his shoulders as he threw her heels to the other side of the small sofa.
“nothing to talk about,” he shrugged, “maybe I don't deserve being first.”
she pushed his head to look up at her, shaking her head, “you just don't realize how much you deserve, max. you're a world champion, a three-time one,” she reassured him, “you've won countless races, and you still have the entire season ahead of you. I know you want to, but you can't let one bad race define your season.”
“I know, you're right.” he bit the inside of his cheek as he thought deeply, “but I have to prove myself.”
“you've already done that plenty of times,” she shook his shoulders in emphasis, “besides you'll still lead the championship, unless charles gets p1, but you'll get it right back if that's the case.”
she was right. she always was, he never doubted her. he would never doubt her because she would never lie to him. she always backed up her answers by building up his ego and confidence back up so he was ready to fight it out on the track next race.
whether it took a couple of minutes or hours to bring his mood back up, she'd take her time in making him feel like the champion he was again.
she would take his phone from him, he didn't need to see the articles being written or the missing phone calls from his dad.
all he needed was her and she would always be there.
taglist (found here): @slut4lrh @taylorslovesswifties13 @sbella13 @kaa212 @nhlfs
proofread by @foreveralbon <333
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kaznejis · 6 months
Text
Make it Fun, don't trust anyone- Erik Lehnsherr x Reader
“I can feel it.” He spoke, refusing to meet your eyes as he visibly failed to prevent his thoughts from spilling, “I could sense the metal as soon as we left the building; I could sense your necklace, the rims of your sunglasses, the iron in your blood, and that ring.”  His words turned to venom at the procurement of the final item, you watched as he grit his teeth; smoothing a hand over his head as his jaw clenched. Anger bloomed at the pits of your stomach in response, anger at his audacity to attempt to stake such ownership over you, “You were gone, Erik.” You spat, turning to him, anger blazing in your eyes; as reflected by the shock upon his face, “What? Did you expect me to wait around like a child? Wait for you to come back on the slim chance that it would happen?”
A/N: Hello! If anyone sees this, I hope you enjoy! If not, this is entirely self sufficing and I thoroughly enjoyed writing it. Just to note, sorry if the scenes taken from the movie seem a little..rushed? If there's one thing I do not enjoy it's working out how to incorporate existing scenes into canon compliant fanfiction. The struggle.
Word Count: 6,692 / Read it on AO3!
If you'd like to see more from me about Erik- please feel free to send in any requests! :)
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The Cuban sunlight had acted as the perfect antithesis to your situation; the gaping hole that had formed and taken a residual spot within your ribcage as you knelt beside Charles, screaming and crying at the lack of feeling in his legs. 
But your eyes had not been upon him. 
You had stared up at Erik, stomach collapsing at his stoic gaze; only remnants of his grief were prevalent to yourself, the person that had known him most in the world. That wretched helmet had sat upon his head, his eyes empty with the melancholy of his own steadfast determination. 
“Join me.” He had whispered, his lower lip trembling as his eyes finally landed upon you; the first time since you had boarded the plane to Cuba. He had reached out then, his palm splayed towards you; hope swimming in his eyes as he beckoned you forward. 
You had simply shaken your head, lips tight and breaths heaving as you held his gaze. You watched as his heart broke, as his eyes glistened and bloodied hands trembled. You watched as he nodded and as he turned away from you. Turned away from the love that you had shared, choosing his own foolish endeavours of revenge over you. Allowing grief to swallow you, you had ducked your head; unable to watch as he walked away, unable to face Charles, writhing in the pain of your lovers’ actions. 
That had been it- you had returned to the school. Welcoming and accepting prospective students; working as an administrator and overseeing the school’s board. It had been good, amazing- supplying a necessary distraction to the heartbreak you had endured and a chance to improve your powers, learn from the experiences of others. There, in your reluctant state of happiness, you had met Adam. 
Adam, the school’s mutant psychology teacher; specialising in mind-based and largely telekinetic powers. Your curiosity regarding Erik’s powers had led you to him, sitting beside his desk; asking question after question. Questions soon turned into conversations and you soon found yourself being courted. All the traditional romances that had never crossed your mind when with Erik had become your reality; constant flowers, gifts, candle-lit dinners as your heels caressed his leg beneath the table. 
Your family had loved him, adored him. They had never met Erik, for obvious reasons, and whilst they were more supportive of your mutant gene than the average family; they had hoped that you would still be able to live the average life. Meaning, that you would acquire the average husband. Your family had practically demanded that you married him despite only being a year into the relationship, the pointed remarks about you being ‘unwedded at such an age’ a constant force at each gathering. 
So, you had. You had adorned the white dress, the large diamond ring, and Charles had granted his blessings by allowing you to host the wedding on the school’s grounds. Everyone and anyone that could have possibly been there had been in attendance, a day simply to forget about the wrongdoings of the past, the present and the future. 
On paper, everything was perfect. 
“Do you ever think about him?” Charles had asked, the night before your wedding, the two of you nursing a glass of scotch each within his office. 
You had exhaled through your nose, a lodge forming at the base of your throat, “No.” Despite the pronunciation of such a small, singular word; your voice had croaked, your chest trembling pathetically. 
Charles had simply nodded, his eyes flickering; his powers catching your obvious lie. “He’s in prison now, you know?” 
You nodded, humming affirmatively, your gut twisting at the reminder. 
“Are you sure you want to go through with tomorrow?” 
“I do.” You smirked, a failed attempt at humour as Charles had only looked back at you with sympathy, “I can’t sit here and say that Erik is never on my mind but… this is for the best.” 
Charles had only nodded, his face twisting as hair fell before his eyes, “He will never bother us again, I will make sure of that.” 
Whilst you had thanked him, smile wide and eyes crinkling as you both raised a glass; you couldn’t ignore the way your stomach had swooped in disappointment. The way your chest had heaved with unbridled pain, simply at the thought of never seeing Erik again. You would wrestle with it for the years to come- the guilt of constantly thinking of another man as you lay beside your husband. 
Your love with Erik had, to simply put it, been enigmatic; fuelled by passion- both by the mission at hand and the way you felt for each other. There had been awful, screaming fights on the worst days and entangled limbs with scratches lining his spine on the best. You had loved him with every ounce of your being, cared for him, yearned for him when he wasn’t there. Whilst you had endured the worst pains of your life with him, you had also been at your happiest. 
It had been toxic, ferocious, you had never known what would come next. 
You missed it every day. 
You passed the feeling off as pure delusion, your mutant gene playing cruel tricks on your mind as the years passed; as you grew bored. Bored of the same mundane life every day, bored of the simple forehead kisses, bored of that house. You and Adam remained within the dark confines of the manor instead of finding a place of your own following the fallout of the war in Vietnam; acting as support for Charles, who had steadfastly begun to dwindle in both his morality and his health. You had used this as an excuse every time Adam had attempted to introduce the necessary conversation of moving on, settling down. Children. You had deflected his attempts every time, claiming that you needed to be there for Charles, that you weren’t ready, that it wasn’t the right time. 
You knew for a fact that the reality lay within your inability to let Erik go, your inability to potentially miss the opportunity to catch a taste of his mere presence again. As the breadth of time since he left and the distance with Adam widened, you thought of Erik more and more. His serrating blue eyes and wicked charm haunted every moment, both awake and unconscious. You yearned for him, worried for him, hated him. You hated him for giving you up so easily, your lack of support in that specific moment signifying the end of everything, defining the status of the rest of your life. Sometimes, during the darkest of nights, the ones where you felt so alone, the nights where the wind howled and the trees drew vines and branches upon the walls- you imagined what it would have been like to join him, to have clasped his hand against yours and allowed him to lead you into the darkness.
Secretly, you knew that following Magneto would have led to your early demise, sometimes you pondered on whether that could have been a better end to your time together than your reality. 
But then, as Spring turned into Summer; as the grounds of the manour flourished in their unkempt state and the sun cast illuminations through the large windows- Logan arrived at your doorstep. A mission from the future, unbelievable if not for the pure conviction in his eyes. Unbelievable if not for the grief that haunted his strong features. 
You had been completely unprepared when Logan had stood from the chair you had offered him, yourself having been perched on the edge of Charles’ crumpled couch; your legs crossed and hands clasped with worry as he had detailed the horrors he had experienced, the horrors that he was there to prevent. He had paced the length of the table, surveying each resident of the room; you hadn’t missed the way his eyes had flickered between you and Adam; his forehead scrunching before his brows raised in amusement. 
“Ah…he warned me about this.” He grinned, flicking a finger between the two of you and scratching at the base of his head. “Kinda weird to see actually.” 
“Sorry?” You smiled politely, head swarmed with confusion, you looked over at Adam only to see he bore a similar expression, “He?” 
“We need to find Magneto,” Logan spoke determinedly, his gaze fierce, his voice taking a tone of finality. He was serious, conviction overtaking the air as the gravity of the situation dawned upon each resident.  
You knew that he was right. 
In that moment, you had been able to do nothing but stand and promptly leave the room; abandon the sound of Charles’ manic laughter that followed Logan’s words, Hank’s doubt that tended to suffocate a room. But most notably, you were abandoning your so-called husband’s silence.  
Somehow, you found yourself curled beneath your bed covers, arms crossed over your knees like a small child; your form shrunken in your fear and heartbreak and doubt, tremors racking your shoulders. As you attempted to steady your breathing, a knock sounded at your bedroom door. Expecting it to be Adam, you promptly rose from your position; scrubbing furiously at your swollen eyelids. 
But to your shock, Logan entered the room. 
“I’m sorry to barge in like this,” He held his hands out placantingly, slowly approaching you as if you were a timid animal, “I know you don’t know me, but I know you, Y/N, very well and… I wanted to check you were okay.” 
You nodded, crossing your arms and biting your lip as you mulled over the words he had spoken since his arrival, “It’s okay… I just- haven’t heard his name outside of my own head in a while.” 
“Erik?” 
You smiled, your heart blooming at his real name, the name you had known him by, “Yes… I’m assuming you know about us; I wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve witnessed one of our messes for yourself,” He had smiled at that, his teeth glinting as he chuffed in amusement, though you could only stare at Logan, building the courage to ask what you desperately wanted to know, “When, you know, you were sent here… was Erik there?” 
“Yes.” Logan nodded. 
“Was I?” 
Logan nodded once again, though opted to do so silently this time. 
“What did he tell you about us?” 
Logan laughed properly then, a smile finally breaking across his face, “He told me not to meddle, that your situation is especially… sensitive, at this point.” He scratched a hand across his chin, his expression filled with nothing but pure mirth as he spoke, “Which I can see, seeing as though he’s locked one hundred feet underground and you’re married.” He finished that with a pointed look at your ring finger. 
You nodded, that you found yourself unable to match his amusement, unsure of exactly what it was he found funny, “I haven’t seen him in almost ten years.” You shrugged, “When I try to think about it, I don’t even know what he looks like anymore.” 
“But you still think about him?” 
You sighed, lowering your gaze to pick at the loose threads upon your old bed sheets; you had always been reluctant to get rid of them, the memories that they held with Erik remained too precious. Slowly and timidly, you spoke, “Every day.” 
Logan could only nod, an exhale sounding from his nose, “Well, if I can trust anything from my time knowing you; it’s your ability to give that man hell.” 
So, the following day; with an overly-energised, overly-excited teenage mutant in tow; Hank, Charles, and Logan had embarked en route for the Pentagon.
“Stay safe.” Adam had spoken as he leaned against the entrance to the house, having opted to stay behind; claiming that the house needed to be watched despite Logan being the first visitor in years. You had simply smiled at him, waving goodbye before turning towards the car; you didn’t miss the way the door had immediately slammed, Adam having chosen to waste no time in ensuring your safe departure. He had been quiet since Logan’s arrival, especially since the mention of Erik’s name and your obvious upset in response. 
You feared that despite his promise to protect the house, he would not be there upon your return. 
“I can’t believe you even married that guy.” Logan had mumbled, chuckling to himself and shaking his head as he slid into the car’s driver's seat; you could only manage a meager glare- your doubt regarding Adam had been clear even to yourself. 
Whilst the others performed the monumental task of attempting to free Erik; you had been tasked with organising the transport from the Pentagon and away, far away. You knew that Charles had orchestrated this purposefully, giving you the chance to see Erik as little as possible if necessary. You had accepted without a fight, you feared that if faced with Erik in a dire situation; you would act impulsively, irrationally. You feared that if faced with Erik, you would be able to do nothing but throw yourself into his arms. 
“Not appropriate.” You had mumbled to yourself at the thought, tapping a hand against the car’s wheel; dark aviators high upon your nose as you awaited. Your other hand hung from the drivers-side window, a dwindling cigarette balancing lazily between your fingers; it had been a nasty habit you had picked up in your adulthood, largely to Adam’s chagrin who had banned you from doing so indoors. You began to recognise that the stress of marriage had aged you significantly; the existence of service had overtaken your life in a way you hadn’t predicted. 
Just as you had begun to dwell upon your own disappointing life decisions; a loud bustle of noise exploded from the doors exiting the building’s kitchen; you only had a second to rescue your cigarette and balance it between your teeth before the group rushed to the car. Peter immediately sped ahead and claimed the passenger seat, grinning at you cheekily as he slid beside you; though this was quickly diminished when Logan slammed the car door back open, promptly gathering the teenager by the lapels of his jacket and ejecting him from the seat. You could only guffaw as he promptly plucked the cigarette from between your teeth, taking a hasty drag as the rest of the group piled into the back. 
You refused to glance at the rear mirror.
“Seriously Y/N?” Charles huffed exasperatedly from what you could assume was the seat directly behind you, the rustling of his jacket prevalent as he attempted to get comfortable in the tight squeeze of seats, “This may be a getaway car but it doesn’t mean you can abuse it to your will with your smoking.” 
You gritted your teeth, slamming your foot upon the pedal and pulling out onto the road; en route to the airport. Erik’s presence behind you plagued your mind, causing your fingers to tighten upon the wheel and your toes to curl within your shoes, every hair upon your neck stood ramrock straight as you waited, yearning for him to acknowledge you. 
This was what you had dreamed of, every night for years, and now you couldn’t even bring yourself to look at him. 
A gleam caught your eyes as you drove, suddenly all too aware of your left hand rested on the steering wheel. Your wedding ring still adorned upon your finger, glistening obnoxiously in the afternoon sun. Risking a glance, you rose your eyes to the rearview mirror- only to immediately flick your eyes back to the road before you. 
There, in the middle seat, sat Erik- his cheeks sunken, hollow; the effects of years in confinement were prevalent in his every feature. His skin was pale, almost ghastly; his haircut was shaggy, uncaring. But what shocked you the most, what made you pull your eyes away from the man you loved so suddenly- was the way his eyes, those hauntingly blue eyes, stared straight at you, straight at the ring upon your finger. You had to bite your tongue to stop yourself from squeaking in response, the taste of blood plaguing your mouth as you willed yourself to focus on the road, focus on the mission at hand. 
You knew that Logan had witnessed every moment of that encounter, his dark eyes sunk into the side of your face as you determinedly stared forward, refusing to acknowledge any of the people around you. Alongside the stench of smoke, the air in the car was thick with tension- the aura of unspoken words choking every passenger. Even Peter, the usual chatterbox and the one who had spoken your ears off the entire way to the Pentagon had opted to stay silent; instead staring out of the window, his lips twisted in his own display of tension. 
As you drove in silence, you became all too aware of Erik’s presence; you found yourself pinpointing his specific breaths, the crinkle of his prisoner-assigned uniform, the shuffle of his legs against the side of your seat, the nervous tap of his finger against his knuckles. 
It was a miracle you managed to reach the airport. 
Upon saying goodbye to Peter, you determinedly pushed past the front-row seats of the private jet, opting to sit at the very rear of the plane alongside Logan, of which had simply raised an eyebrow and sighed as you lowered yourself before him, “You two are more pathetic than I expected.” He exhibited an air of nonchalance as he lit his cigar, despite the plane now very much being in the sky, and propped open a newspaper upon his lap- though it was prevalent that he found delight in watching the entire situation unfold. 
You raised your eyebrows, shrugging your shoulders stubbornly and sliding back against the base of the chair, “There’s no ‘us two’,” To which you complimented with the use of air quotes, “I am married, Logan.” 
Logan could only laugh at that, shaking his head, a habit he seemed to have picked up in his exasperation at what was unfolding before him, “You do realise I’m from the future right?” 
Scowling, you crossed your arms and opted to sulk at the back of the plane; still determinedly refusing to look Erik’s way- who was now engaging in a heated argument with Charles.
“Do I at least age well?” 
“Of course,” Logan smirked, holding his cigar up in a toast; though he was quickly interrupted by the creaking of metal as the foundations of the plane shook; Erik. Logan jumped forward and immediately threw the two of you to the ground- acting as a human shield as the plane began to tip sideways; Erik’s passion overtaking all rational thought as plates and glassware shattered beside you. 
“You abandoned us all.” He spoke with finality, Charles lay splayed across multiple seats, his hair a tangled mess as he gaped at Erik. You could only pull yourself back into your seat as Charles left for the cockpit, both you and Logan gasping at each other as you attempted to regain your stolen breath.
“So,” Logan grunted, fetching a new cigar and lighting it, “You were always an asshole then.” 
You could only scoff as Erik turned, facing you for the first time since boarding the plane; you noted the way his eyes landed upon anything, anywhere but you. 
“I bet we’re best buds in the future,” Erik smirked sardonically, his voice rough with the sudden severity of his outburst. 
Logan hummed, puffing on his cigar before offering you a puff, to which you politely declined, “Not like me and your old friend Y/N here are.” 
At the mention of your name, his hands spasmed at his sides; his fingers convulsing in a bodily reaction at the mere recognition of your existence. You would have felt excitement, love; if it weren’t for the way his eyes told a different story- cold and piercing as they landed upon you, his cheekbones twitching as he allowed himself a second of eye contact before he abruptly turned, returning to his seat across the plane. 
“Jesus,” Logan mumbled to himself, reclining in his seat and widening his eyes at you; you could only nod. Jesus.
With Erik and Charles opting to keep to themselves, the rest of the journey went swimmingly- immediately upon landing you wasted no time in departing from the suffocating air of the cabin; luxuriating in the deep breaths of fresh, evening air that greeted you. 
“We need to find somewhere to rest.” Charles spoke from behind you, “The drive to the next spot is too long and we’re all exhausted.” He glared pointedly at Erik then, who simply sighed; as you allowed yourself a glance at him, it was prevalent that he too was plagued by fatigue. His cheeks were more sunken than before, his eyes drooping as he visibly struggled to hold himself up. You yearned to reach out, place a hand on his spine and simply hold him, aid him as he wrestled with the weight of the world upon his back. But then, as his eyes turned towards yours, the weight of the wedding ring upon your finger prevailed once again; you could only turn away. 
Hank managed to find a group of last minute rooms at a nearby motel, though as he returned to the reception's waiting area, keys in hand, his nerves were ever-prevalent. “I only managed to get three rooms; two have two beds and another has one, I was thinking-” 
“I’m taking the solo room,” Logan ordered, snatching the key from Hank’s hand and sauntering down the hallway, though not without sending a wink over his shoulder at you. Bastard. 
“Oh-” Hank froze, the other keys dangling from his fingers- you could only watch as he winced, practically praying for you to forgive him with his eyes, “Charles, I doubt it would be safe for you to be with Erik, so I guess…” 
You could only sigh, electing every ounce of confidence you could embody before standing, cutting Hank off once again before retrieving a key from his hand, without turning you spoke, “Well, come on then, Erik.” 
You felt his presence behind you, each of you electing to say nothing as you unlocked the haggard wooden door; its hinges creaking as you pushed open the door. Before you stood two double beds, an only-just-comfortable distance between the two. Nodding to yourself, you entered the room, your fingers twirling the keys nervously as you surveyed the room; you felt the air thicken as the door slammed behind you- you felt like prey finally being cornered by the predator. 
Erik cleared his throat behind you, the sound thick and grating, “I’ll take the bed beside the door; would you like to use the bathroom first?” 
You turned towards him, shocked by his kindness; he could only stare back at you, his eyes heavy-lidded and exhaustion tinting his features. “I- Sure.” You could only croak, opting to briskly enter the bathroom; afraid of irrationality taking over your lovesick mind. Reaching behind the shower’s curtain, you turned on the water before stripping off your clothes, the sound of your ring clattering against the sink as you placed it down caused you to flinch, knowing that Erik would be all too aware of your every move from the other side of the door. 
You took your time in the shower, breathing in the warm steam and collecting yourself after the events of the day, collecting yourself in preparation for the events of the night that was to come. You could do this, even if it meant a sleepless night whilst Erik lay only feet away; whilst the object of all of your nightmares lay only feet away. It reminded you of a night, a night a long time ago; in a motel room just like the one you were in, his skin against yours; his breath hot against the base of your throat as he had slowly stripped you of your clothes, as he had kissed every inch of you. It reminded you of his pants as he pushed into you, his groans as he buried his sweat-coated forehead into the skin of your shoulder, biting and licking and sucking there as you became one. The way that he had moaned his love for you into the skin there, your responsive moans loud and uncaring as you had clawed at the skin of his back, gripped at the hair upon the base of his head- 
Stop; you shut off the hot water, stumbling from the shower as you panted, your cheeks and chest red with warmth as you desperately attempted to remove the memory from your mind. Gripping the porcelain of the sink, you eyed your pathetic reflection; willing, begging, yourself to let this go, let your silly daydreams go. This was reality, your reality. Getting through the night was the only necessity you needed to accomplish, then you could avoid Erik and promptly never see him again. 
You could go back to your husband, back to your life. 
Undeniably however, you couldn’t ignore the way Erik made you feel, the way his mere presence made you feel. Adam’s influence upon you paled entirely in comparison, your obligation to return to him simply one of duty, one to appease your family, one to live the ‘perfect’ life- be the perfect wife. But you craved more, you craved better; for years you had chased and yearned for the way Erik’s slightest touch had made you feel- the way that his love encompassed every molecule of your being; the way that he had branded you for life, rendered unable to ever feel the way you had felt with him again. Your thoughts of Erik made you all too aware of how long you had spent in the bathroom.
How long you had spent, very obviously, avoiding him. 
You emerged from the bathroom in nothing but the oversized shirt you had packed hastily to sleep in; swiping it from the bed due to the short notice you had received in regards to this trip. You felt bare, naked suddenly as you left the bathroom to Erik’s piercing gaze. He sat, fully clothed, lounging against the headrest; allowing a pen to swirl around his fingers, dancing from pointer to thumb as his wrist spun. Entrapped, you could only stand there and stare; stare at the beauty of his powers, at the beauty of him. 
“It feels good,” He spoke slowly, carefully, allowing the pen to drop onto the sheets beside him, “To use my powers again; to feel metal.” 
You nodded, smiling politely, unsure of exactly what to say in response. You opted to stay silent, allowing yourself to walk past him and into your own bed, the crinkle of the duvet loud in the silent room, loud within the silence that was swelling between you. 
“You aren’t wearing it,” Erik spoke suddenly, his voice slicing through the silence; to your shock. Once you recovered, you simply crooked an eyebrow at him, to which he spoke; swallowing his words audibly, “Your ring.” 
“Oh,” You shook your head, staring down at your empty finger, remembering that you had placed it on the sink, “I usually-” 
“I can feel it.” He spoke, refusing to meet your eyes as he failed to prevent his thoughts from spilling, “I could sense the metal as soon as we left the building; I could sense your necklace, the rims of your sunglasses, the iron in your blood, and that ring.” 
His words turned to venom at the procurement of the final item, you watched as he grit his teeth; smoothing a hand over his head as his jaw clenched. Anger bloomed at the pits of your stomach in response, anger at his audacity to attempt to stake such ownership over you, “You were gone, Erik.” You spat, turning to him, anger blazing in your eyes; as reflected by the shock upon his face, “What? Did you expect me to wait around like a child? Wait for you to come back on the slim chance that it would happen?” 
Slowly, at the pit of his lungs, he formed a laugh; his head shaking as his fingers trembled once again, “You think so lowly of me, Darling.” 
“You left me!” You were yelling now, rising from the tangled bed sheets as your chest heaved with anger, heaved with the heartbreak and sadness that had plagued you for the consequent years following his departure, “You left me.” 
“I gave you a choice, Y/N. You chose Charles, you were more than welcome to come with me.” 
You shook your head, scoffing, “Well… if I had gone with you; I would be dead by now.” Your tone held a sense of finality, as supported by your return to the bed as you promptly turned your back to him, curling up under the duvet and refusing to face his reaction to your words. His response followed in the slam of the bathroom door as he promptly left the room; leaving behind the stale air of your own regret. 
It felt like hours as you waited, wondered; hoped for him to come back. Hoped for the two of you to forget the words that had been said, to sleep comfortably in your separate beds and complete this mission as peacefully as possible; to go your separate ways and live your separate lives once again. 
In the depths of these daunting thoughts, you fell asleep; the exhaustion of the day’s tensions taking hold as your eyes slipped closed. You woke, hours later, to the moon’s rays spanning throughout the room; a ghostly glow hanging in the air as you rubbed at your eyes, glancing to your side, Erik was fast asleep; his sharp edges and soft hair illuminated in the scant light- you allowed yourself a moment, just that moment, to take him in. Drink in the features you hadn’t faced in almost a decade, the features you longed to reach out towards; to trail a finger down his jaw or scratch a nail upon his hair. His hair was wavy, a slightly damp smell filtered throughout the room told you that he too had taken the opportunity to shower. 
The thought of his broad shoulders and lean back illuminated by the spray of hot water did nothing to help the swarm of doubt swirling within your gut. Shaking your head, you reached into the bag beside your bed; fetching the box of cigarettes stashed within one of the inner pockets. 
Then, barefoot and in just a shirt, you shouldered open the room’s door, balancing a cigarette upon your lip as you did so before promptly lighting it, traversing the motel’s corridors silently before reaching the fire escape. Hoisting yourself upwards, you climbed up the ladders before finally reaching the building’s roof. The night was clear, quiet; the only sounds emerging from the distant highway and subsequent traffic- you listened out for any signs of disruption as you lowered yourself to the roof, allowing your legs to dangle from the side of the building. 
The silence of the night and the goosebumps prickling at your bare arms allowed the tears to emerge; it allowed them to pour down your cheeks, for snot to bubble at your nose and for your lips to tremble with unkempt sobs. You allowed for your hurt to take hold, for your hurt at Erik’s words and actions and simple presence to take hold. But then you allowed your hurt towards yourself to unfold; for allowing yourself to end up here, in this situation- living this life that you had manufactured for yourself. 
You couldn’t go back to that motel room, but most notably you couldn’t go back home. You couldn’t bear it anymore; the stresses of being within that barron manor were becoming too much to bear. If you couldn’t be with Erik, then you would rather be alone; somewhere far away, far away from here. You stewed upon this thought for a long time, as you lit your second, third and fourth cigarettes; it prevailed. 
Just as your fourth cigarette began to dwindle, the slam of a door sounded below you before hasty, alert footsteps lined the hallway. You rose, walking back towards the highest entrance of the fire exit before looking down; listening as the hurried steps continued, haggard breaths accompanying it. Opting to investigate, you lowered yourself onto the platform below before descending the stairs; entering the residential hallway of the hotel. There, at the end of the corridor stood Erik, the obvious source of the worried footsteps as his chest heaved; he was turning in place, visibly searching for something as he rushed down the hallway. 
“What-” You mumbled, slowly walking towards him as he had not yet spotted you. Finally, you decided to catch his attention; concerned as to whether there was some form of danger, “Erik?” You called, a hand shielding your eyes as you peered down the dark hallway. You watched as he froze at the sound of your words, his head snapping towards you as he drank in your presence, your appearance. 
“What the fuck-” He breathed, immediately shaking off his shock and advancing towards you, practically running as he reached you. Entirely unannounced, he swept you up into his arms; shaking as he lowered his head to your shoulder, practically breathing you in as he tightened his hold by the second. 
“Erik, what-” 
“What is your problem?” He pulled back almost as soon as it had begun, his breathing staggered as a blush covered his cheeks; he wore only the black tank top and sweatpants he had been asleep in, his hair a mess upon his head; as if he had just jumped from his bed, “I woke up and- and you were gone, your bed sheets were practically stale with how long you’ve been gone I-” 
“I’m fine.” You assured, catching his hands between your own as an attempt to calm him down; the worry he had been feeling now prevalent within the staggering of his chest and the blush at his cheeks, “I just went to have a smoke I- let’s get you back to the room.”
He nodded, his glassy eyes immediately beginning to droop as he allowed you to use your grasp on his hand to pull him down the hallway. Upon depositing him into his own bed, as you left to enter your own, a tight grip latched upon your wrist; you turned, only to be met with those blue eyes swarming with desperation, “Stay?”
You sighed, nodding reluctantly before crawling in beside him; allowing him to drape an arm over your waist, allowing him to rest his head upon yours. Before your departure, before the decision would be set; you could allow yourself this one thing, this one night of unplagued sleep as his comfort would ward away the nightmares that tended to tinge your nights. 
But, before you could fall asleep; Erik’s voice rumbled above you, “I’m sorry, Y/N.” 
You could only shrug, pressing your nose to his chest as you listened to his heartbeat, “Me too, Erik.” 
He moved backwards then, settling so that his face lay directly before yours; the tip of his nose rubbing against yours with each second breath. It seemed that he could only muster a whisper as he continued to speak, “You have nothing to be sorry for.” His eyes grew wet as he spoke, his head shaking slightly as he smiled sadly. 
“Erik.” You whispered, your voice soft with contempt as you raised a hand to his cheek; brushing away the tears that had begun to fall there. Feeling him swallow against your wrist, you could only watch as his eyes flickered downwards, just as your tongue darted out to wet your bottom lip. Before you could register, he had moved; his lips pressed to yours as your cheeks grew wet with his steadily falling tears. Your mind allowed nothing else but to kiss back, to shift your leg upwards and to caress his cheek with your thumb. He kissed you earnestly, slowly; as if approaching a terrified fawn, testing the waters as to what you would allow him. You could practically taste the desperation perspiring his tongue, as you assumed he could yours. You would take anything, trade any parts of your wretched souls if it meant that you could feel this forever; feel the warmth of his tongue sliding against yours for every waking moment that remained. 
Erik pulled back then, only to lower himself; his mouth hot and needy against your throat, his hands trailing patterns against the skin of your stomach; becoming exposed as your shirt had rode upwards. His ministrations rendered you only able to lay there and pant; to bask in the feeling of being needed, wanted. Truly, ferociously. 
As he began to paint a trail of kisses down your stomach, something changed; something shifted in his demeanour. His hands, beginning to pull your thighs upward, were shaking and whilst his lips were forming kisses, they were forming words too. As you raised yourself to rest against your elbows, you finally heard the words forming within his mouth, “Please don’t go back to him.” He was whispering, pairing the almost unspoken words with a gentle kiss to the nearest area of skin; he was crying again, his eyes glistening with fresh, unshed tears as he burrowed his face into your skin. It seemed as if he was afraid to let you go, practically burrowing himself into your being, with the hopes that you would stay. 
“Erik, Erik wait-” You spoke urgently, lowering your hand to his chin before pushing him away; he stared up at you through his glassy eyes; his hair ruffled and cheeks rosy. Confusion graced his features at first, though he soon registered the concern in your eyes and realisation visibly dawned upon him. 
He removed himself from you then, moving to sit at the end of the bed; the duvet splayed around his waist as he sat with his legs crossed. He seemed to take a moment to compose himself, wiping at his mouth and running a finger over his teary eyes, “I’m sorry Y/N, I- it’s not my place to tell you what to do.” 
Instantly, you crawled towards him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and settling yourself into the space between his legs; you felt his cheeks crinkle as you pressed kiss after kiss to his face, but you could still sense his confusion, his doubt. “I knew I would be leaving him the moment Logan mentioned your name, whether you were coming with me or not.” You stroked his hair as you spoke, caressing your fingers through the thin tendrils of oaky brown hair that adorned your lover's head. Erik grinned then; his teeth shining as he practically mooned up at you, he kissed you again then; pulling you in and deeper into his lap. 
Before you could push him onto his back, before you could lower yourself upon him and mobilise the groans that would fall from his mouth; he abruptly straightened up, untwining his hand from beneath your shirt and raising it in the air- your wedding ring flew towards the two of you, hanging in the air before Erik made a flicking motion with his fingers; you could only gape as the ring flew through the open window and into the darkness of the night. 
“Erik!” You squealed, hitting at his chest as he laughed loudly, unabashedly. Despite being secretly pleased, you couldn’t allow him to know that. “That was expensive!” 
“I can find you better,” Erik grumbled against your chest, burrowing his head into your shirt and inhaling unashamedly, “That one wasn’t you anyway, I almost couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw that ghastly thing on your finger.” 
The only response you could have mustered in that moment was to shove him back against the bed; silencing him with the warmth of your own mouth.
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sanemisstalker · 1 year
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N/SFW. Minors DNI
CW: GN reader / Men's Mental Health IG ???
KNY characters that I think are more prone to cumming in their pants / NSFW
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Giyu
-He's inexperienced.
-I admire the almost fandom consensus of him being either resident, sexy, black haired, quiet anime boy, and/or 'nobody likes this friendless loser, he definitely has a tumblr'
-Any attention, platonic or not, from someone he's attracted to is enough to make Giyu get an apparent boner. He's prone to them when the people he admires say genuinely nice things to him.
-He doesn't get to hear nice things a lot, nor does he take compliments easily, so when he believes them, his body can't help but believe them too.
-He'd rather it not be that way, but due to his floundering mental health, and general isolation, Giyu isn't jerking off very often, nor is he able to get it up when he wants to, so he just goes... months without thinking about it sometimes.
-Could definitely cum from kissing too hard. Not just kissing, but particularly the rough treatment.
-Giyu must be incredibly touch starved, I imagine. I can't fiction the last time he's hugged someone. That scene where he's holding Shinobu, perhaps?
-So when he's getting so much attention, especially so much positive, romantic attention, even if it's a little rough, I'm sure his dick would be at full mast.
-he doesn't think he's predisposed to masochism or anything. He'd hope he wasn't, but it feels better when he's kissing, and maybe his hair is being pulled on, just a little.
-he'd be very embarassed. He wouldn't cry or anything, but I think he'd get up and leave the room. He knows you knew what happened, he didn't moan, but he flinched because the build up was so immediate, and he just couldn't stop.
-How pathetic. He can't show his face infront of you ever again. All he does is ruin good things. You're definitely disgusted by him.
-Even if he didn't realize how pretty his face looked during his orgasm.
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Gyutaro
-Everyday I fight the gyutaro incel allegations, and everyday I fail.
-Gyutaro is socially inept, to put it blatantly. He spends an incredible amount of time locked away in his sister, and rarely chooses to come out unless eating for the two, or-
-if he needs to jerk off. A rarity, nowadays. Looking the way he looks can do a real number on one's ability to self-pleasure. He also isn't able to seek out assistance from any brothels- He still looks the way he looks. He's no Muzan- blessed with the ability to change his appearance at will.
-So when you're on top of Gyutaro, and he feels the curve of your ass in his palm, and your sex is positioned right on top of his, just barely grazing his clothed cock, as you try and teach him how to kiss (he's doing his best, but he knows he's not good-)
-He cums, and he cums hard. He grips down on your hips, and goes wide eyed, unable to stop the moan that rips its way from his throat... and then quickly moves you off of him.
-He isn't even finished when he moves you, he's shakey armed, and he nearly drops you.
-he's mortified. After all this time, he finally gets someone willing to touch him, and he blows it. He's borderline inconsolable- switching between begging you not to look at him and begging you not to hate him-
-but the noise he made was just so... pathetic.
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Haganezuka
-Men dedicated to their craft don't have time to cum? Silly of you to assume he's ever even seen another person naked. That would imply he looked away from a sword for long enough to register it.
-On a completely serious note (as serious as I can be writing this), It'd be quite awkward interacting with Haganezuka sexually. His mind has been so consumed by perfection that, even if he wasn't dedicated to the blade, he's almost prevented himself from ever being able to cum in a social setting.
-He's developed a phobia of new situations he can't control. Especially sexual ones. Swords are easy and gratifying. Why would he ever need to cum when he can just make a sword and have it be respected and revered. Wouldn't that be nice-
-So when you started rubbing him over his pants, he was, admittedly, panicking. It's not like he went nearly 4 decades without using his dick... He'd just... gone 2 and a half decades without using his dick. Nowhere near the same.
-You'd barely even touched it, barely even pressed your lips to his neck, and Haganezuka was panting.
-The fear coursing through his veins, and the attention his forgotten cock was receiving- He grew more unsightly by the second...
-and then you pressed a particularly soft kiss to the corner of his lips and he was done for. That was his first kiss-
-Though shocked, you'd pump Haganezuka through his orgasm. It'd be enough to go through his pants, and spill over your hand.
-He'd grip your robes, and will you closer to him. His heels would slam into the floorboard, and he'd try to bury his face in your neck, attempting to muffle the groan he'd loose, only to fail tremendously.
-He'd be huffy after. Mad at himself and disguising it as being mad at you.
-'Well, maybe you shouldn't touch me anymore, if you found it so gross! Did you consider that? Just not touching me- ever?'
-but you saw how sad he looked when you said you'd do whatever he wanted. What a simple man.
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wonryllis · 8 months
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𖹭ㅤI'M A MTHRFCKIN STARBOY! ( enhypen as badboys )
────𝖺𝗅𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗒, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝗈𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅 𝖿𝖺𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆.
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﹙NOTES.﹚ enhypen as ur baddie-stars. 𖥔 ݁ fluff. fem!reader. 827wc. LIB?
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𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 secretly picks you up at midnight and takes you to his illegal street race matches every week. "stay right here pretty, i'll win this for you," he brags, guiding you through the crowd of onlookers to the very front where he takes off his leather jacket and puts it on you,"don't want you getting cold" before he's rushing to his motorbike at the start line. quite literally winning it by a huge gap, wanting to impress you so bad even though he knows he's already bagged you bad enough. "i could win anything for you," his lips finding yours immediately after taking off his helmet and dropping it without a care.
𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆 brings you to his underground boxing space to teach you self defense, taking the excuse of touching you everywhere. "here, here, and here," he says pointing to the points you should aim to attack. touching from your neck in a chokehold and dragging it down to just above your pantline. when you reach forward to try and tackle him, he's swiftly grabbing you by the waist and pinning you to the floor. hands cupping your wrists and lips hovering over yours, lightly brushing against,"you need to try harder angel," he moves again now bringing his lips to your lips, nibbling on your earlobe,"come for my match tomorrow?"
𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐔𝐍 sneaks into your room late at night, hiding from your parents because they just don't like him at all. "jake what are you doing!" you whisper shout, opening your window and seeing him climbing up after getting his 'coming over' text. "just wanted to see my doll's face and hear her pretty voice," he winks, jumping over the window frame and immediately pulling you against him by your waist. his lips travel from on top of your closed eyes to your lips, to your jawline down to your collarbone and then back to your lips as he walks back to your bed. sitting down on the edge and pulling you over his lap,"you're so addicting,"
𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 shows up unannounced to your university to take you back home, leaning against his bike as he waits for you, a stone cold look. "sunghoon?" he's smiling as soon as he sees you, moving forward to take your bag from you. "here," the little necklace you accidentally left with him last time, the one he hates so much because it's from your shitty ass boyfriend. his eyes bore into yours in a look of longing before he leaves a kiss on your forehead,"he doesn't deserve you," putting on the other helmet on you,"i'll make you mine, treat you so much better," stays at your doorstep until you walk inside and shut the door.
𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐎𝐎 pulls you into closed spaces when you fail to answer his texts and calls. "sunoo! what are you doing? what if we get caught!" his hands wrap around your wrists and bring you closer, your closed fists resting against his chest,"you weren't replying, i missed you," he says, his forehead coming to rest atop yours while his eyes stare into yours in the dark,"a lot," hands then moving to your waist as he leans down to bury his face in your neck, taking in the familiar scent of yours he is obsessed with. his fingers reach over to play with a strand of your hair as he leaves little below your ear, only he can get his close to you,"mine,"
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍 hunts down and beats up people who make your life difficult in any way and then shows up at your window to apologize and have his wounds be treated by your tender hands. "baby i'm sorry but i'm not sorry," jungwon grimaces at your fingers touching the little cut on his lower lip. eyes trying to find yours as you keeping staring at his wounds in a silence that disturbs him. "for you i would cross any line in a heartbeat," his voice softens when you meet his gaze teary eyed, explaining to him that it's him going to such lengths that worries you, what if he gets seriously hurt," 's just, love you too much,"
𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈 at your doorstep any time of the day, unbothered about getting caught by literally anyone. puts you on top of any surface to make out. "oh my god riki stop it!" you swear while rushing down the stairs as he keeps on pressing on his loud ass horn until you're out the door and in his sight. you quickly stumble over the lawn to where he stands, legs over each side of his bike. hitting his chest in a scolding as he pulls you closer, "what to do, you make me crazy," his heart thumps heavily against yours in a sync,"haven't seen you all day, let me have a look," moving to cup your face close, breaths mingling in the cold.
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TAGLIST ( open. ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @luvyev @pockyyasii @nctislifue
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astrologydayz · 8 months
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ASTRO SEXOLOGY NOTES🔞 - NATAL CHART4
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VENUS CONJUNCT/TRINE/QUINTILE MARS in a MAN'S CHART shows us a man who's passionate AF in bed. When he fucks somebody = he fucks with his whole entire being. They're masters at knowing what people need, &want sexually = they see through people's desires, &turn ons, & turns themselves into that. That's also why people usually end up coming back 2 these men - they don't need a manual from u2 know how to play with your body in the right way. These men are confident, charismatic, beautiful, & they never fail at getting what they want. They usually don't need2 work very hard anyway, as they're already noticed, &checked out by everyone, everywhere they go. They can make sweet sweet love2u, but also fuck u with a passion, like it's their last mf day on earth. Amazing at switching between the2. They're romantic, sensual, loving &hardworkers in bed! But they can also be rough, wild, &passionate! They'll satisfy your needs4sure.
VENUS SQUARE/QUINCUNX MARS IN A MAN'S CHART can show us a man who's 2 "passionate" for his own good. "fuckboy/player energy". Issues with always being this "2cool for feelings" bro - he's outta there when it gets 2serious. U can chase him, but won't be able 2 catch him 9/10times. He got mad game tho, won't ever have a problem with getting somebody in2 bed. He loves the flirting game beforehand, &he loves the chase. "He wants what he can't have". He can be kind of "aggressive" in bed, & this man def knows how to fuck, but it will be all about getting him off a lot - "my needs are more important than yours, boo". He can also be into degrading kinks - like spitting, choking, slapping, name calling etc. Not2 make him sound like a dick tho, cuz if he already told u what the deal was beforehand = can't complain afterwards, can u now?
MARS CONJUNCT/TRINE/QUINTILE JUPITER can show us a person living&breathing for sexual pleasures. Like they can be so fascinated/interested in sexual pleasures that it can become almost like a religion2them. They want 2 know EVERYTHING, always learning, &always improving. They study, &"explore" people, figuring out how 2make them cum easily/what "triggers" them - like, what works, and what clearly doesn't. They have an easy time, when it comes2 their "studies" with these aspects = A+. They got a sexy ass confidence, and amazing knowledge, which is unmatched, &they're proud, but still humble in their approach, which many people can find REALLY fucking attractive.
MARS SQUARE/QUINCUNX JUPITER can show us a person being 2 obsessed with self gratification/or 2obsessed with sex/sexual things in general. They can have EXCESSIVE sex at times - unmatched stamina4sure, but their "moral code" can sometimes end up becoming "blurred"/not thinking about the "consequences" - they end up letting themselves down/they end up regretting who they've had sex with/or ends up regretting to have even done something in the 1st place. Can also be 2 over confident, &2 impulsive in their approach - some people can think that they have a "god complex".
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LUST IN GEMINI 🧡 = can get turned on bc of the way someone articulates themselves/someone's mindset, by voices - accents/language/s, hands/fingers. Can be REALLY in2 oral/handjobs/fingering/toys where hands are involved/dirty talk. They LOVE it when someone tells them exactly what they need&want sexually - They need that communication. They also get wildly turned on when someone outsmarts them - streetsmart/booksmart, doesn't matter, as long as their intellect is challenged, &u got banter = you're in4a win. LUST IN CANCER 💙 = turned on by emotionally driven people/turned on by people who's in their emotions/turned on when someone NEEDS them, turned on by breasts/chests/stomachs. They usually also love gentle touches/gentle caresses in their most sensitive zones. They like intense, emotional & close sex - also, the kind where it's prolonged 4as long as possible. They want2 get as close as they can, they can't get close enough really. They want2 make love, not fuck. At least most of the time. LUST IN SCORPIO 💜 = turned on by dominance, power, submissiveness, loyalty, soul-felt intimacy, secrets/secret fantasies, by taboo stuff,"bad girls/bad boys"/by people who's had it hard in life, &by shadow sides. They want2 merge with one person, &one person only TYPICALLY, so they're usually wildly attracted to monogamy. They want soul blowing sex - the kind where they think about it 24/7 afterwards, &can't think about anything else - they want2 remember touches, moans/sounds, & the intense feelings they experienced. They can definitely be into bdsm, but only with the right ones. Rebirths/transformations are prominent here.
LUST ASTEROID - 4386
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MARS/8TH HOUSE IN CAPRICORN IN A WOMAN'S CHART typically finds older people way more sexually attractive, than people at her own age. "Daddy issues" can show up here. She wants2 learn, &advance herself - but still needs the feeling of being "taken care of" at the same time. She's sexually attracted 2 people who knows themselves, & knows wtf they want2 do in life. She finds bluntness, stability&matureness sexy as hell. She does not play games - Immaturity is something she gets turned off by❌. Can 100% be into bdsm/or rougher sex. Chains/handcuffs⛓️ - bondage, candle dripping, choking - endurance, etc. Edging can be a biiiig thing here. Sexually attracted2 people who's taller than her&typically slender/2people that got piercings/tattoos, amazing bone structure/2people who's experienced sexually - or just in life, like work, or just in general. Or at least, more experienced than her.
MARS/8TH HOUSE IN AQUARIUS IN A MAN'S CHART shows us a man who's sexually attracted2 people who's very/or completely different than him - looks wise/or personality wise. Sexually attracted2 people who stands out/looks different/2people he can see/meet online, 2people who's "nerdy" in their own way, eccentric&experimental people, people who's original - and not fake. Fake people turns him off asap . Can also be sexually attracted2 people who his family would never approve of - kind of like a "rebellion" thing. He likes unexpected/spontaneous&freaky sex. He's usually into trying everything - as he is an experimentalist & a student of physical science = won't hold back until he's tried everything - he wants2 know it all. "Film maker" in the making baby🎞️🎥📱. He can have a thing for sleeping with friends/or wanting 2. Can def also be into "the more, the merrier" in the bedroom, not always ofc, but I've seen it a lot, so I'm def mentioning it.
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VENUS/EROS IN ARIES/AT 1, 13, 25° = ARIES DEGREE ❤️ points 2 someone wanting a lover that's fiery, passionate & brave. They want2 be swept off their feet, &they want someone who's not afraid2 go up 2 them, &just start some flirty/sexy banter. They find confident, honest, &brave people sexy😍. They need someone who's not about games, as they don't play games themselves = if they want something, they take it. They can be impulsive, &quick on it, but when a decision is made = nobody can change their minds, besides themselves. They're sexy, fearless, &direct. They can be into rougher touches, marks being left behind👋, hair pulling, fast but passionate, & rough sex. "sex on an impulse".
VENUS/EROS IN TAURUS/AT 2, 14, 26° = TAURUS DEGREE 💚 points2 someone being sexually attracted2 beautiful/seductive, sensual, gentle, but dedicated people. They can be quite picky when it comes2 choosing a lover, & they won't just pick "John"/or "Karen", just bc he, or she is the last one standing. They won't settle for less than they deserve - at least not in the long run. REALLY into kisses up, & down their neck&body/also around ears! &get that tongue involved2, they'll worship u, &Remember u4life🫦👅💋. They're extremely sensitive in these places, & usually can't hold back on how much their body ends up being affected - like goosebumps arising, them shaking, moans etc.
VENUS/EROS IN SAGITTARIUS/AT AT 9, 21° = SAGITTARIUS DEGREE ❤️ points2 someone wanting a spontaneous, adventure seeking, & "free"/"free spirited" lover. They need someone who's not about putting them in a cage, but all about experiencing life's pleasures - as they themselves are very free, & not about putting up "strict boundaries". They're sexually attracted2 easy going/but curious, "well informed" & nonjudgemental people. Can definitely also be sexually attracted2 people from different cultures - or 2people from foreign countries, & 2people who's not "confined". They wanna be challenged, &they wanna learn from/&with their lover, &get their mind expanded. Can be into sex out in the open/into being stimulated in public, & can be really into trying new, & spontaneous things when it comes to sex - they wanna spice things up often, as a routine can become2 boring for them.
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DICK ASTEROID - 17458 ASPECTING WEBB ASTEROID - 3041 IN A MAN'S CHART = can show us that his dick can be found online somewhere📱📸/or it has been online4u2 find. Can ofc, also just mean that he's been a fan of sending dick pics/videos, or is a fan of sending dick pics/videos.
KLETT ASTEROID - 2199 ASPECTING WEBB ASTEROID - 3041 IN A WOMAN'S CHART = same as above, she's just not sending dick pics tho😂. U know the deal babe.
CUMMING ASTEROID - 14348 CONJUNCT 9TH/OR 12th HOUSE/HOUSE RULERS shows us a person having sex with people/strangers on vacations/"vacation flings"/or when they're staying abroad. OR someone being really sexually attracted2 people from different cultures/foreign countries, ofc.
IF A MAN got his CUMMING ASTEROID - 14348 IN LEO = expect it everywhere, really everywhere. He's big on showing off, &big on making it rain ☔️ .
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HAPPY NEW YEAR, &THANKS4READING!!!
Appreciate you, always!!!💘
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princesssascha · 9 months
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Get all your desires within a week
Have you been having trouble manifesting? Are you sick and tired of waking up everyday in your current reality and it feels like you tried every single possible manifestation technique out there yet nothing seems to work? I have come up with a 7 day challenge for you.
How do I know this works?
The universe doesn't give you what you want, it gives you what you ARE. By doing this challenge you will be matching the frequency of your dr which will allow your cr to transform.
This is a very powerful technique. Please make sure you know exactly what you want.
So, here are some of the rules:
You identify your desired reality as your current reality
You do EVERYTHING you would do in your dr, even if uncomfortable (for example, if your desired self(ds) goes to the gym at 5am everyday that's exactly what you're gonna do. It's only a week.)
Your "Cr" is your past. It is not your reality, it's imagination. Your dr is your only "correct and real" reality. After all you're doing everything you would in your dr, so that makes it your current reality.
You do this for 7 days. No cheating!
Feel free to add your own rules for yourself!
Now for the process
1.Write down your goals
What does your desired reality actually look like? Think about it and write it down. Yes, WRITE it down. Don't just think about it. Whether you do it on your notes app or on a piece of paper, write down clear habits of your ds. Some examples:
Goes to sleep at _ and wakes up at _
Works out
Works on her business/skills
Etc. anything. It doesn't have to be something important. Anything you can think of that you desire.
2.Identify your blocks
Now it's time to be brutally honest with yourself. WHY do you think your desires aren't here yet? What is blocking you from receiving your manifestations. This is the part that most people fail at, which causes them to not get their desires. Releasing those blocks can be difficult, but without it you are literally blocking your manifestations. I suggest you really research this topic, but here are some of the most common ones:
You see your 3D as your REAL reality.
You keep stressing about getting your desire NOW.
You have a lack mindset.
You don't trust yourself.
You check your 3D for your results.
3.Find the difference
Now that you know what you want it's time to find the differences. Now it might seem obvious, but again, you need to write it down. Since you already have what your desired reality looks like, here's how I do it in the easiest way. You write down your desired reality on one side and compare your current reality to it on the other side. For example: (let's just act one is on the left side and one is on the right side).
Dr: Wake up at 7am.
Cr: Wake up at 10am.
This will make it easier to change your habits later.
4.Act like you're in your dr
Now that you know what your goal is and what the difference is you are going to switch. Your desired reality is your new reality. Your current reality does not exist. It's your past. You are now in your desired reality and you KNOW that. Do everything you would do in this reality. From waking up to going to sleep. The whole day. Does your ds wake up at 5am and goes to the gym? Good. That's exactly what you're gonna do because it's your current reality. You are your dream self and your dream self is you.
5.Ignore your reality.
Now it's time for you to decide that your current reality is just a mindset. And you need to switch that mindset. You want the best for yourself and you will get it. You just need to allow it, so, from now on your only right reality is the reality you created for yourself. All the outside noise doesn't change that, because it is your reality now.
Ok, when will I get my results?
Immediately. The moment you start doing this and actually believe and persist that's the moment it becomes your reality.
But when will I see it in my 3D?
Once you accept you really have it. You need to actually believe it, and when that happens, you won't be looking for your 3D to confirm that. That's exactly when it appears in your 3D. It can be the same day, same week, same month, same or next year. You decide when you trust the universe. This is just an exercise to help those who keep stressing about their 3D. And it works magic.
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azrakaban · 26 days
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A Little Longer - Mattheo Riddle X GN!Reader
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A/N: OH MY GOODNESS ME. Sorry I've taken such a long break from writing, if I told you all the things that have happened in the past two months you honestly wouldn't believe me LMAO
Warnings: cursing, yelling, soft Mattheo I think? lmk if i missed anything xxx 
Note! I tried to make this as gender neutral as possible, if I've messed up anywhere, please feel free to correct me! But please do it nicely guys <3
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The wind nipped at your face, chilly and biting as you wrapped your scarf tighter around your face. You forced your eyes to look into the swirling sky, where your poor boyfriend, Mattheo, sat frozen to his broom. 
Watching house Quidditch games was the highlight of every month for Hogwarts, but it made it supremely less enjoyable when the weather was unpleasant. And, as a particularly dark cloud decided to let fall a rainstorm, it became decidedly worse.
You craned your neck back to watch him above you, barely hearing whispers of what he was saying as he yelled instructions to his team members. 
Mattheo had been pushing the team hard all season - it being his first year as captain, he did not want to disappoint. You rememered the long suffering look Enzo gave you in the common room when Mattheo was dragging your friends out to train at 7am. 
As you watched, Astoria flew over your head, flanked by two Gryffindor chasers, who managed to throw her off, causing her to drop the Quaffle. She swore, sighing as they sped up towards the Slytherin goalpost before giving chase, but not quick enough to reclaim the Quaffle before another goal was put through the post, making the score 20 - 230 
You noticed Mattheo's expression darken further, and sighed. He would likely be in a bad mood later. 
Your eye was then caught by a sudden burst of movement on the other side of the pitch, where Potter and Draco were neck and neck in a dive for the Snitch. 
Draco raised his hand, victorious with the snitch clutched in his hand, yet the Gryffindor end exploded in cheers. With the score now at 170 - 230, Gryffindor had still won by a large margin. 
The Slytherins around you were all sighing and shaking their heads as they all made their  way out of the stadium. You had agreed to meet Mattheo at the Slytherin locker room, so you made your way there.
 As you approached the door though, you heard yelling. Pushing it slightly ajar, Blaise caught your eye and mimed cutting his head off quickly, clealy telling you to leave. You nodded, leaving swiftly and heading back to your empty dorm. 
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About 45 minutes later, Mattheo turned up in your dorm, hair slightly damp from the shower, and, spotting you, promptly came over and lay his head in your lap. 
"Heya bubs." You smiled slightly, looking down at him. "Hey." He mumbled dejectedly.
"We lost." He groaned, messing up his curls. You lifted a hand and started gently playing with them. "Yeah, this time. But there are still going to be other games, you don't lose everything from this game, okay?" You replied soothingly. 
"But it was our first game, my first game as captain, and I blew it. I pushed them too hard, and I blew it." He sighed. "I wanted to win this for them, to prove that I could do this, be responsible, make it work. And it just..." He lifted a hand and let it drop onto your sheets. "I failed them, and it's not even their fault. I yelled at Draco for catching the snitch, even though that was the best thing to do..." 
"You didn't fail your team." You interrupted him. "Sure, you lost a game, Mattheo, but all captains lose games! It's part of playing, you make mistakes, and you learn from them. PLus, you guys were playing into the wind, the Gryffindors had the weather behind them. Now, if you wanna say that the weather is your fault, you're gonna start sounding a little self centered..." You giggled slightly, and an amused huff escaped Mattheo. 
"Yeah yeah, okay, I get it." The pressure lifted off your thighs as Mattheo moved to sit back against your pillows, opening his arms for you. "C'mere sweetheart, wanna hold you, please." He asked, giving you puppy eyes. 
You immediately caved and moved forward towards him, letting him cuddle you like a teddy bear. 
"Thank you."  He sighed after a few moments of holding you, drawing patterns on your back with a fingertip. "What for, silly?" You looked at him, confused. He chuckled slightly. 
"Grounding me, not thinking I'm a dick, just being an all round awesome person to date?" He shrugged. "For letting me rant about this shit." He squeezed you slightly. 
"No worries, idiot." You smiled, kissing his cheek. He gasped in mock horror. 
"Idiot? That's what you call your suffering boyfriend? WOW, okay, WOW, I see how it is." Mattheo mock glared at you, gently shoving you away. 
"Aw come on, don't be like that." You laughed slightly as he pulled you back into his arms. 
"I should go apologise for being a Class A dick to the team shouldn't I?" He sighed, looking at you. 
"Yeah, probably." You nodded, squeezing his hand. Hd pulled you a little closer. 
"Not yet though. Wanna keep holding you just a little longer..." He muttered, pulling you back into the nest of pillows with him.
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A/N: Writing was shit, may delete later <3 Sorry for this miserable attempt at feeding u hungry people, love you all!
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7seas-of-ryy · 2 months
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I Need You | Part 4
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8
Author’s Note: I can't thank you guys enough for reading my writing. I'm looking forward to your thoughts on this part <3
Summary: You were saved but you still have so many questions. Trying to sort everything out might be harder than it seems.
Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Warnings: Talks of torture, self hatred, angst, let me know if I need to add any others :)
"I've healed her as much as I can. Now she needs rest." you heard Madja speak
Darkness.
"I failed her, Rhys" you heard Cassian cry softly
Darkness.
"Thank you for saving her" you heard Feyre gently speak
Darkness.
"I forgot about her, then let Elain convince me to stay for longer. Let her convince me that y/n would be ok waiting a little bit longer for me." Azriel yelled
Well, that explains why he didn't show up.
"She's awake" Rhys stated
Both of the Illyrian males hurried over to you.
"Hey sunshine, how are you feeling" Your High Lord and good friend smiled softly down at you
"I'm fine" you whispered, voice hoarse from all the screaming you had been doing
Rhys hesitated, clearly knowing you were not fine. He didn't want to push you but he couldn't leave you alone after everything that just happened.
"Cassian told me most of what happened but there are certain parts he can't fill in. I don't want you to have to relive it but it might help us figure out why you were their target" he spoke so softly, as if speaking too loud would break you
Once he asked to see, it all hit you. The questions about Nyx, so many questions about him, you started to panic. Tears filled your eyes. He needed to know, he needed to understand that you didn't tell your torturers anything. You started hyperventilating, panicking, you had to let him know you were strong enough to withstand the pain.
"Rhys I promise I never broke. I never told them anything. No matter how much they hurt me, I swear. They asked so many times but I never broke, I swear I promise I was strong-" your sobs cut you off and Rhys bent down and pulled you into a tight hug.
"Shh I know. You did so well, please don't worry about any of that" he spoke into your neck, his own tears now pouring down his face.
You couldn't control yourself. Still terrified of saying, doing the wrong thing. You were shaking and crying hysterically. You knew they needed to see what you were tortured over so you sent the thought out hoping Rhys would understand what you were doing. He knew immediately, standing up and giving you a small nod.
You showed him everything, still shaking and crying. Azriel reached out for you and you let him. You needed anything, anyone to anchor you. He wrapped his arms around you and you cried in his chest.
Azriel looked at Rhys and saw the pained look on his face as the scene was happening in his head. Once he saw it all, he ran out of the room muttering something about a sleep tonic. The shadowsinger held you even tighter as if he could put all the pieces of you back together.
"I'm so sorry, you needed me and I wasn't there. I'm so sorry, so so sorry...." He kept repeating. You wanted to tell him it wasn't his fault, to help take away the guilt he was feeling but all you could think about was Cass repeating that same thing in the dungeon.
Just like that, the terror built up inside you. Your mind tricking you into thinking you were back in the chains being tortured. You started kicking and screaming, Azriel holding you down so you wouldn't hurt yourself.
"Rhys, you got that sleep tonic? Anytime now!" He shouted hoping his friend was coming
Moments later, Rhys winnowed in the room with Madja. Once she assessed the situation, she looked grim.
"Sleep tonics will not work, this is too severe. Move, boy." Madja spoke, pushing the spymaster away and setting her hands on you.
You started to settle and slowly fell asleep.
"This won't last long. I can only fix the physical pain or symptoms. Her mind tricked her body into thinking she was being tortured again. I eased that pain but it will take a lot more to ease the pain inside her," the healer looked at them with sorrow, "I'm sorry but this is as much as I can do for her."
Azriel immediately sat in the chair next to your bed, holding your hand with both of his. Rhys patted him on the back and left to try and figure more out.
You slept for 2 straight days, with Az never leaving your side. He couldn't believe he let this happen. You were his best friend, and more than that he had always been in love with you. After everything with Mor, he couldn't risk getting hurt again or losing you so he pushed his feelings away. It was the most painful thing he had done and once Elain came along he thought it would be easier to keep himself wrapped up in her.
He deeply regretted that now. You would hate him now. He forgot about you, left you there alone. He wouldn't be surprised if you never spoke to him again.
Lucien slowly entered the room, "How is she?" he asked Azriel
"Not great but she'll get there... thank you," his voice broke, "I haven't gotten a chance to tell you yet, thank you for saving her"
Lucien nodded at the male, a solemn look upon his face, "She didn't deserve any of this. I knew you and Elain had been spending time together and it pissed me off. She's my mate, but I knew she wanted you and not me, so I suffered in silence because I thought I deserved it..." he paused, "Y/n has always been kind to me. Accepted me the moment she saw me with Feyre. Offered her company when she knew Elain was away with you so I wouldn't have to be alone. She did not deserve any of this. She did not deserve to be pushed aside and forgotten."
Azriel stared at him, stunned. He opened his mouth to speak, closed it not knowing what to say, opened it again, "...I-"
"Do not hurt her again." Lucien stated, cutting him off and walked out of the room with one last look at you.
His shadows swirled around him, covering his neck to comfort him. They had been all over you for the most part. Wrapped around your arms and legs or nuzzled in your hair. After a while they whispered to him, she's waking up.
Your eyes slowly opened and the male at your side quickly stood to grab you some water. He helped you sit up in the bed against the wall and you both sat in silence for a while. You could tell he hadn't been sleeping, the bags under his eyes were the worst they had ever been.
"Sunshine" Az said, and it made you flinch.
You felt like your soul was the darkest its ever been. You weren't sunshine, you were storms and pain. You felt disgusted with yourself, hated yourself for being caught so easily. For allowing Cassian to be taken and have to witness everything. You hated yourself for causing everyone so much trouble and pain. You wished you died in that dungeon.
Cassian, Rhys, and Feyre all walked in. Feyre had a kind, hesitant smile, Rhys looked relieved that you were awake and not freaking out, and Cassian wouldn't even look at you. You assumed he was probably upset with you for dragging him into this and getting him tortured.
"Do you know why they picked me?" you asked quickly, so you wouldn't have to keep seeing their sad looks
"We're still not entirely sure. We know they were trying to find out things about Nyx but they could have taken any one of us for that." Feyre stated
"Maybe they thought I was the weakest and easiest to get answers out of?" you guessed.
"No, it felt very personal towards you y/n. It was like he hated you, don't get me wrong, he enjoyed beating me up but he was ecstatic to hurt you" Cassian spoke, still avoiding eye contact
"How did Lucien even find us?" you asked
"All he said was that Eris sent him a location and told him he needed to get there right away but that no one could see him there. Once he got there, he heard your screams and ran to save you. We've been trying to contact Eris but he hasn't responded." Rhys spoke
"I'm going to find whoever did this, and I'm going to slowly tear them to shreds" Azriel growled softly, still holding your hand.
"I don't understand what I did wrong-" you voice wavered and there it was. The look everyone was giving you made you feel sick. They knew you were broken now, you couldn't hide it anymore. You coughed to try and cover up the weakness in your voice.
"But we'll figure it out and I'll be ok. We'll all be ok. Now, I'm starving so I would love to join you guys for a meal tonight." You tried to smile at them. You needed them to think you were fine, that you were strong. They didn't need a weak link in their group. The last thing you wanted to do was eat but you figured that might convince them you were all good.
The four of them stared at you as if you grew a third eye on your head.
"Maybe you should take it easy, I can bring some food to you" Azriel suggested.
"Yeah that would be easier" the rest of them agreed.
"C'mon guys seriously, I'm fine. Give me a couple minutes to get dressed and I'll head down. I can try to help figure out what this is all about before we eat." you said weakly
"No. You are staying up here and resting. If you are hungry, one of us will get you food." Rhys commanded in a tone that left no room for negotiation.
"Is that an order from my High Lord or an order from my boss" you asked harshly
"It's an order from your friend." he softly stated, "let us know if you need anything"
The three of them left but Az stayed at your side. You didn't want to be alone but you also didn't want anyone to see you fall apart, which was about to happen any minute.
"Az, can you give me some time alone? I just need to think" you felt bad but you needed to be strong
Azriel gave you a sad smile, nodded, and headed for the door. The second it clicked shut, your facade fell apart. You began softly crying, you laid there all night like that until you finally cried yourself to sleep.
You didn't see the lone shadow in the corner of your room watching over you, and you didn't know Azriel slept outside your room on the floor all night long just in case you needed him.
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disneyprincemuke · 1 year
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5 times * mv1
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there are five times max almost caught himself saying he loves you, and then there's the time that he finally let you know
pairings: max verstappen x horner's niece!reader
warnings: i... don't know?
notes: yes, i'm making a comeback because i've gotten back into the mood of writing (i'm single) and because f1 has got me screaming, crying and throwing up. also, this took me 3 days to write, and i have grown attached. lmk if you guys want the counterpart (basically the same concept, but it's from your eyes???)
one.
"fucking," max cuts himself off, grabbing the closest thing to him. lucky for him, and his team, it's just his racing gloves, "bitch!"
it's just so infuriating to be so close to that podium. he crashed with 5 laps left of the race. his left rear decided to fail him stupidly near the end, after he'd poured his heart and soul to get on that podium. but here he is, moping in his driver's room.
after constantly being in the scrutiny of the public, especially with the way he handled losing, he'd resided here immediately. there's a bubbling anger rising up from him. he's so infuriated.
until a soft knock lands on his door. snapping him out of his thoughts, he knew what he wanted this time. "please leave me alone."
"okay. but christian just wants to know if you're alright." your voice sounds small. he could barely hear you with the door in the way.
he takes a deep breath, then walks over to the door. it reveals you with a hesitant smile on your face.
but he's always had a soft spot for you. all of the anger he'd been feeling merely 5 seconds ago dissipated. "oh. you're not in my room at the circuit often."
"i know. i'm sorry to intrude." you look down at the ground, your often confident self absolutely nowhere to be seen. "christian sent me to check in on you. i'll leave you alone, but i can't go back without an answer."
for starters, you're not a stranger to the signature max verstappen temper. but never has he directed it at you once. it's surely raised the eyebrows of christian horner the first time it happened when you joined the team.
one second he was all over the garage, only rude words coming out of his mouth. the next, he was silently raging as he sat on the tire of his car while you discussed dinner plans with your uncle.
"please, don't worry about it." he takes a step back, gesturing for you to enter the room. you do just that, although a bit hesitant. and he doesn't blame you for that. "come in."
there's a moment of silence between you two. for a moment, the engines from the cars outside start to die down, and the frequency of the fireworks is slowing down, and there are more footsteps in the gravel that surround the trailer.
"i'm okay." he leans on the massage table in the middle of the room. he still hasn't changed out of his race suit. his helmet, balaclava and gloves are all thrown in different directions of the room. they had all been victims of his uncontrollable rage.
it's apparent that he's not even close to being okay. he just has to bank on the fact that you don't probe with more questions.
"it's okay if you're not," you answer in a gentle tone. a soft audible sigh passes your lips as you sit on the couch in the opposite side of the small room. "it's just you and me. i'm not part of your racing team."
his eyes do the speaking again. the heaving of his chest is enough to tell you that he's actually contemplating it. without another moment's hesitation, he starts to go at it. all of the emotions he's been feeling lately, the frustration from just being 5 laps shy of being on that podium.
he's just ranting, throwing his hands in the air while he paces all over the room. he makes a mental note to find a way to make it up to you after this - you're just sitting there patiently, nodding your head empathetically while he talks.
it’s as if you knew and understood all that he’s talking about.
"it's just unfair! i did everything right this time!" he exclaims, hands clenched up into a fist. "i should have been up there! i deserved to be on that podium!"
there's one more thing that bothers him. you. whatever he feels for you. the way his heart races whenever you're around, or the way he's always thinking of the way you fix his hair for marketing promotion material - he can't get you out of his mind. for years, now.
he'd met you when he was 18, fresh into red bull racing as christian's new prodigy. he had only seen you a total of 15 times within the span of 3 and a half years. the transition from crumbs of your presence to full-out spending the whole racing season with you was more than his heart could handle.
now that he's gotten to know you better, the 22-year-old is almost convinced that he might actually have feelings for you. "and-"
he looks up from the ground, flinching back slightly when you're staring directly into his eyes from across the room. your eyes dart down to his hands and it's only then he notices how his hands are clenched into fists next to him.
he almost slipped up about his feelings for you. good thing he caught himself at the last second. his chest heaves as he looks at you, shoulders tensed up and eyebrows furrowed.
you raise an eyebrow, slowly nodding. you make a gesture with your hand to encourage him to continue saying whatever is on his mind. "and?"
"and," i have feelings for you, "it's just so unfair."
he feels his body melt at your stare. his shoulders slump, his breathing starts to regulate and his hands slowly unravel from a fist. it's just so unfair that he's so hopelessly smitten with his principal's niece.
"i know." you push yourself off the couch and walk over to him. stopping just a few steps from him, he looks at you sigh. "i'm sorry that it happened to you, max."
then a small grin slowly stretches his lips. the race is over - there is absolutely nothing he can do to change the result. he shrugs, "it's just racing."
"you can still feel angry about it," you grin, "it's just me."
max shakes his head with a soft chuckle. "i know. it's okay; i'm okay."
you drop your head slightly. max knows you don't buy his lie. of course, he's still angry about what happened. but there is still some truth to what he said - he got unlucky today with the car.
you take a deep breath. he's caught completely by surprise when your arms spread out, taking a step forward and engulfing him in the warmest hug.
he catches a whiff of all your scents - your shampoo, your perfume, and creepily enough, the soap you use for your clothes. and he completely basks in your embrace, his arms wrapping themselves around your smaller frame. his neck rests on your shoulder, silently straining his back just to take you in.
"i know you're not," you whisper. you lean your head into his as you rub circles on his clothed back. "i'm here for you, okay?"
and he wants to say it to you. he gets an inkling, after you just spent the better part of 20 minutes letting him scream about his feelings, that this is bigger than himself.
"i," he trails off, arms tightening around you. he closes his eyes, repeatedly reminding himself that he's not willing to risk it. he releases the breath he's been holding. "thank you."
two.
max can barely keep himself upright in the seat. he's clutching onto his balaclava, eyes following the light shone into his eyes as per the doctor's request.
he had a bad crash with lewis during the race that sent him flying into the walls. he blacked out for a couple of seconds, and he's been in pain since they escorted him to the medical centre.
there's a soft knock on the door, before he hears the creak followed by footsteps. "i'll be back with results, okay?" the doctor straightens up before walking away from him. he acknowledges the presence of someone new, then proceeded to walk out of the room.
the relief max immediately felt when he sees you standing shyly by the door, hands clasped together.
"are you okay?" you ask softly, slowly making your way over to him. "i came as soon as i heard what happened to you. that was horrible, what happened to you."
he tilts his head at you, ignoring the strain in his neck and the pounding in his head. "as soon as you heard?"
you chuckle, glancing down at the floor in what could only be described as embarrassment. "i was in the bathroom taking a piss when geri ran in yelling for me," you admit.
your eyes roam his body, your eyes matching the empathetic stares of everyone he has looked at since he was helped out of that stupid car. he hates it. he hates being on the receiving end of those stares, but it was strangely comforting coming from you.
"are you alright? do you have any more injuries?" you ask. you look at him, hands hovering above his hand that rests on his knee. max gives you a small nod of consent.
"it's just a concussion, from what i can feel," max admits. though, it hurts everywhere. when you crash into a wall at that speed and black out, it's definitely going to hurt everywhere that it can.
he's watching you intently. you're lifting his sleeves to scan for bruises and moving about the neckline of his race suit to look for any injuries. there's a tingling sensation that you leave behind as your fingers graze over his now exposed skin.
"i'm okay."
"i don't buy that at all," you scoff. you reach over for the empty plastic chair and pull it to his side. you take a seat. "i'm glad you're okay. i was really worried something bad had happened."
he smiles. the way you care for him never fails to make his stomach churn and his heart start to race. "it could've been worse. i'm glad it's just a concussion i've got."
you turn your head to look at him. god, he wishes he can just take you in for an embrace and reassure you that he's perfectly fine. because he is. it's just some body aches - nothing he hasn't had to go through before as an athlete.
"i'm sorry about the race." you take his towel into your hands and fold it up. you gently tap on his face, wiping away the sweat that had formed on his face. "let me know if you need anything, okay? water, ice... food..."
"i will handle," he grins, his gaze following your hands' movements. "thank you, though."
you don't say anything. you just smile at him as you put the towel back down on his knee. you rest your hand just above the damp material and tilt your head at him. "how do you feel, though?"
"g-"
"about the points," you cut him off. "it's a close fight for the driver's championship. how do you feel about that?"
he shrugs, pouting his lips out. you widen your eyes at him as you anticipate the next thing coming from his mouth. "it's just racing. i'll come back next weekend."
you roll your eyes and lean back into the chair. both of your eyes are on the tv, watching the broadcast of the race together. "i believe in you. there's still a long season ahead of you."
he moves his eyes to look at you. not his head fully - he doesn't need you catching him stare at you. your unconditional support for him just made him want to jump for joy.
thought, sometimes he does wonder if you're only doing it because you work for the team. but other times you're just so believable that he thinks it's him as a person you're rooting for.
and god, he wants it to him so bad.
"it feels like forever - this pain," he admits. without thinking, his hand instinctively reaches forward. he puts his hand above yours. he squeezes your hand.
he sees you shake your head. you manoeuvre your hand. now your palms are touching. he could have sworn it was the concussion making him see and feel things when you intertwine your fingers.
if he were to be honest with you, he feels like this could the lowest point of the season for him. that rear failure earlier on felt minuscule compared to this crash. deep down inside, there's a fear that there's no coming back from this.
you squeeze his hand, slightly tighter than he had done to you just a few seconds prior. "i wish i could make it better. i'm sorry, max."
your voice wavers as you speak to him. and it kills him that you’re so worried for him. he does have a healthy support system, as much as the public wants to make it out that he’s too cold for that.
max wants to reassure you, just as you'd done with him. but he doesn't even know how to do that. your presence now, while he's still slightly out of it from the crash, is enough to put him at ease.
he sighs, squeezing your hand once more. it's at the tip of his tongue. if he could just convince himself to say it to you.
yet, he settles with, "you're the best."
three.
max leans back into the wall, arms folded over his chest. the strobing lights, the music bouncing off the walls, and a plethora of bodies surround him.
next to him, sebastian is deep in conversation with daniel. a conversation that he had tuned out of a few minutes ago. when he found you on the dance floor, terrorising alex and lily with your dance moves.
if you asked him, he would've told you that you're a natural at many things. dancing, unfortunately, is not one of them.
his silent pining comes to a halt when he meets lily's gaze from across the room. a knowing smile on the girl's face, he feels his cheeks heat up when she drags alex down to whisper something in his ear while pointing at max accusingly. alex turns his head in max's direction and his body shakes with a laugh.
great. they've caught on.
alex nods and raises his eyebrows at max teasingly. alex glances at you, shocked to find out that you've managed to shimmy your way 5 metres down the dance floor to now terrorise george and carmen.
max smiles to him, watching alex bend over backwards to get your attention. it's proven a challenge when you sandwich yourself between them.
when alex manages to finally get your attention, you just smile at him. you hand him the empty glass in your hand and grab carmen's hands. it's a wonderful sight - alex struggling to get your attention. but when he did, max swears his heart skips a beat.
because you lean into alex, listening to what he says into your ear. alex points in his direction and your face lights up when your eyes meets his.
you stride across the room and push yourself through the crowd. before he knew it, you're staring up at him with a toothy grin and wide eyes.
from the corner of his eyes, he notices sebastian and daniel have stopped their conversation. across the room, lily and carmen have flagged their boyfriends down. all eyes are on the two of you.
"what are you doing here all by yourself? you should be out on the dance floor celebrating!" you shout over the music, tiptoeing slightly to meet max's height. "you just won a race!"
"i'm good here, thanks!" max laughs, moreso at your state. your cheeks are puffed up and your lips are swollen. even your voice sounds damaged from all the screaming you've done. "enjoy your evening, please! don't worry about me!"
you shake your head in urgency. "no! you have to celebrate!"
he continues to look down at you, genuinely considering if he should let your persuasion tactics work on him tonight. who is he kidding; he can never say no to you.
"okay, but i'm driving us back to the hotel. so no drinks for me." before he could finish his sentence, you've managed to yank him off the wall. your hand has a firm grip around his wrist as you guide him through the crowd towards the bar counter.
"we'll get a cab!" you stop right at the bar and turn around to look at him. "you won the race today! aren't you excited? are you not at least a little bit prideful that you're leading the driver's championship again?"
max supposes you have a point. he should be excited. here he is in his 6th year in formula 1, being so close to clinching the world champion title for the first time in his life. it's just one night, right?
he can't possibly let you be more excited for his achievements than himself. that's just not right. did he not believe in himself?
he watches you prop yourself up on the bar stool, carefully telling the bartender your order. max's hands hover over your body, just in case you'd fall.
once again, you have managed to make his heart race by putting so much emphasis on his achievements. he's made his way onto the podium several times now that it seems almost mundane for him to end up there.
he wants the next big thing; he wants the world championship title. but why exactly is he waiting a whole few months just to celebrate again?
"come on, max! let loose a little. you don't have to wait for the season to be over to celebrate," you answer genuinely. for a moment there, max almost thinks you're sober. "if you don't want to celebrate your small wins, at least let me do it for you?"
he huffs. you're a lot more convincing when you pretend to be sober, after having downed a couple glasses of cocktails.
you tilt the unscrewed bottle of beer towards him, a freshly mixed glass of cocktail in your other. "congrats on winning the race today, max. i'm so proud of you."
max takes the bottle out of your hands. he willingly taps the neck of the bottle onto the rim of your glass. "cheers," he grins, watching you excitedly sipping away on your mojito.
if he could guess, you’re 6 glasses in. you’re definitely going to regret it in the morning.
you swiftly intertwine your fingers with his and start to pull him towards the dance floor. "let's go celebrate!"
you stop abruptly, your cocktail almost spilling all over your dress as he plants his feet into the ground. you squeeze his hand and look up at him shyly with your chests almost touching. even in the sea of people in the club, you managed to make it feel so intimate.
just you and him.
can he really excuse the words threatening to slip out of his mouth with half the bottle of beer in his system? can he just say it without you remembering it the next day?
but you beat him to saying something. "i'm so proud of you, max."
he smiles, letting a small breath out. he squeezes your hand. "thank you. you're the best."
four.
it's upsetting, really, not having you in the paddock all weekend. what you'd thought to be a simple itchy throat from all the sweets you've consumed had turned into a covid scare. you're isolated in the hotel, albeit having tested negative, already better.
the team couldn't risk getting either driver contracting a sickness. especially not max, a clear contender for the title this year.
max has not seen you since tuesday. the photos of him on the red bull racing social media platforms are just not as good when it's not you taking them. nobody else on the marketing team ever tells him his hair is a mess. neither do you - you always just reach in to fix his hair for him.
max huffs, adjusting his shirt as he stood in front of your hotel room. the small bouquet of flowers suffocate in the grip of his hands. a plastic hangs on his fingers.
the lock clicks. the door is slowly pulled open. there you are, in all your glory. your hair is up in a ponytail, you're in your pyjamas with juice in your hand. your eyes widen. "max! what are you doing here?"
with flowers in his hands, there's really only so many excuses he can make up. he tilts his head and his eyes narrow down. he's searching his brain for an excuse - something that doesn't scream the fact that he is hopelessly in love with you. "um..."
he stays in the hallway of the hotel, and you stay inside with your hand still on the door handle.
when he had gotten off the race track, alex had celebrated with him. at some point, max expected someone to bring it up. it just shocked him that it had taken this long.
alex gave him a firm pat on the back as they strolled the paddock after media commitments. and the question finally came up. "so are you ever going to ask (y/n) out?"
the question should not have even shocked him in the first place. he had been sitting around waiting for someone to ask him this. nevertheless, he was still dumbfounded by the question.
he started explaining - how he can never get around to asking you out. you're christian's beloved niece. first of the next generation. christian even introduced you as the daughter he had to raise before he ever thought about having kids of his own.
and alex gave him the weirdest stare. because everyone on the paddock could easily tell max had feelings for you. he didn't do much to hide it either. it'd apparently been so bad that even toto wolff sneaks around the paddock with questions if there's been progress.
and so, here he is, standing in front of your hotel room after having won his home race. when he managed to escape his pr manager, he took a shower and immediately bought flowers, some food and came straight to you.
he missed you all week.
"max?"
his answer comes out in a ramble. if you hadn't spent so much time with him, you probably wouldn't have understood. but in your week of absence, the driver doted on you with video messages, voice messages and pictures. endless updates with the grid, the drama, the placements.
anything to make it feel like you were still there with him.
"can i take you out on a date?"
his heart races. beads of sweat form on his forehead. the hallway, that had once felt so icy suddenly became so warm.
"what?" your jaw drops, eyebrows are raised in shock. the silence is deafening.
is this some kind of sick prank alex is pulling on him?
immediately, max goes into defensive mode. "i mean, it's okay if you don't! i just thought if i don't shoot my shot now, then i'll never know. i won't take it personally!" he lifts up the plastic filled with tupperwares of food. "i even brought you supper!"
you scoff with a laugh bubbling up from your stomach. you leap up from your spot, throwing yourself onto max. you lift your feet off the ground. his available arm wraps around your waist to stabilise you. his other arm, already busy with gifts for you, darts out to hold the door ajar.
and what does this mean, exactly? max verstappen has never been one to take these things for an answer. he needs is in black and white - in the clearest of clarifications.
"yes, of course!" you squeal into his shoulder. okay, now he can celebrate. it had taken you a solid 10 seconds in a tight embrace before you decided that the hotel's hallways were too exposing for your liking.
finally, he lets you guide him into the hotel room. he can't stop the wide grin forming on his face either. by the looks of it, neither can you.
"right. these are for you," max finally says, holding out the bouquet of flowers to you. "and i'm sorry i'm late. i could have gotten here earlier if it weren't for alex and lando fighting me over what flowers to get you."
your eyebrow raises, willingly receiving the flowers. "you were in cahoots with those two?"
"and george," max shrugs simply, scrunching up his nose. "but he was easier to deal with than those two."
you smile, if it's possible to get even bigger than what's already there, as your fingers lightly graze over the petals of the flowers. max simply stands back while he watches you admire the brightly coloured bouquet.
he's confident about one thing that night: what kind of flowers to get you. so when lando and alex were fighting him over which flowers to get you, they were simply debating over the roses.
but he is in the netherlands. what else could have been the right choice of flowers but the tulips? and he's in an expensive sport, after all. it would be so uncharacteristic of him to undermine the way he felt for you.
long story short, he got the most gigantic bouquet filled with striped tulips. he spent 150 euros. that's not even near the amount he knows he feels for you.
if you asked him for the world, he'd simply exhaust every single resource he has to give it to you.
"thank you so much," you coo, finally looking up at him. you lean in, pressing a firm kiss to his cheek. and he will absolutely spend the rest of his night thinking of this exact moment.
this is quite possibly the furthest he's gone with you. and he almost slips up again. he should've just said it, but he's just not quite sure he should. it's just going to scare you off.
"oh! and, congrats on the race win today," you cheer before pressing your lips against his cheek again.
max grins. he doesn’t know why he put it past you. you’ve made it clear you’re going to be his biggest fan. “oh, you watched the race?”
you’re gently laying the bouquet on top of the table in the corner of your room. “of course. it was a brilliant race. i'm so proud of you."
he just squeezes your shoulder. "thank you. you're the best."
five.
in his dark hotel room, the tv illuminates your face as your eyes lock on the movie you've chosen. it's the only way max can see your face. he'd love to be able to pay attention to this movie, but how could be when you're all tangled up with him.
"are you scared?" you suddenly mutter. your first words in almost 20 minutes, almost making him question if you're making conversation because you're falling asleep.
"what?" he's genuinely dumbfounded with the question. he glances at the tv, curious if he had dozed off long enough for you to choose another movie. but no. it's still mamma mia playing. "we're watching a musical."
max watches your body heave up, then down. "for tomorrow."
he tenses up. he's been trying his hardest not to think about it at all, actually. since he'd finished up his evening with media commitments, he just went straight to you in the garage office. he packed his bags and took you out to dinner.
he's secured pole position for tomorrow. he didn't want to think of anything else right now.
he doesn't want that stress passed on to you.
max hums, suddenly feeling an interest in the musical. it's meryl streep singing abba, after all. how can he not be any more interested? he shrugs. "okay, i guess."
he avoids your eyes. all eyes and remaining attention of the evening is on the actress belting out a song. and it's rudely interrupted when you pause it.
you stumble around, propping yourself up to your elbow to give him a stern look. "okay?" sometimes max forgets you're now his girlfriend. he forgets that he doesn't have to put up a front to shield you from his real emotions. "what do you mean 'okay'?"
he sighs. he turns his head back to face you, almost flinching at the glare you're giving him. he clears his throat as he pushes himself up against the arm of the couch. he sits cross-legged and you mirror his posture. he shrugs again. "i can't overthink it now. i just have to do my best tomorrow."
you throw your hands up in the air, scoffing. "what?"
max is at a loss for words. what response, exactly, did you expect out of him? "what?" he says back, hands also thrown up into the air. from the amount of time you've spent around him on the race track, he expected you to know his mindset when stepping into a race.
he can't overthink it before he even gets on the track. in fact, there is no room for that at all.
you resign to the other end of the couch and fold your arms over your chest. you even pull your feet back, not wanting to be in the range of his touch.
"(y/n), i don't know what you want me to say, darling," max responds gently. he's slightly annoyed, yes, but he doesn't want that to triumph your relationship. "you know the clear mind i need to get into a race. if i overthink, that's when it's over for me."
you roll your eyes. "no. it's just you and me. there is absolutely no way you have no opinions about the race tomorrow. not even a single thought? seriously, max?" you tear your eyes from him. "i'm not christian."
max sighs. he scooches over to you on the over end of the couch. though you squeeze yourself further into the armrest away from him.
he huffs, wrapping his arms around you. he pulls you in and presses a kiss to the top of your head. "of course, i have a thought in my head about the race. but if i let it get to me, darling, it can cost me the championship."
you hum, but there's a hint of annoyance. though, you give in. because you drop your head back on his shoulder and pout. "okay, fine. race your heart out, max. i just know you've got this."
he gives you a slight squeeze. a weaker one compared to others. honestly? he's terrified of screwing up tomorrow. he just wants that title so bad. all his life, he's worked for it.
he's simply afraid to let christian down. more importantly, he's afraid to let you down. though his handful of mental breaks about being so close to the final race of the season, you'd reassure him that you'll always be proud of him no matter what.
it's just not enough for him.
the movie starts to play again. you coddle up into his lap and he rests his cheeks on your head. i love you.
thank you, you're the best.
max has not been able to get the ringing out of his head since he crossed the checkered flag. he has not been able to think straight since then.
he just won his first world championship title. he's on his knees, his head resting on the tire. all 58 laps, all he could think of is how is he going to win? how will the season play out?
he finally lifts his head, dropping himself back to sit on the track of the abu dhabi track. he groans loudly, almost into a scream, as he unclips his helmet. he yanks it off his head, then his balaclava almost immediately.
he is feeling so many things.
then across the barrier, he sees you. eyes filled with tears, hair pulled back into a ponytail, in your very own red bull racing uniform. his stare down with you doesn't last long. christian is quick to yank you away.
and he spends the next 5 minutes scanning the crowd for you. sure, he wants to celebrate with the people that made it possible for him to even be there in the first place. but there is you.
"max!" your voice makes him whirl around. a sigh of relief slumps his shoulder. it's you.
his face lights up at the sight of you. just a minute ago, he felt so drained. he barely found it in himself to walk to his team for cheers. yet here he is jogging towards you.
"world champion, max verstappen!" you scream. you leap off the ground, legs quickly wrapping around his waist.
his arms wrap around your torso, just holding you close to his body. "i'm so proud of you," you cry into his already wet neck. you wrap your arms around his shoulders tighter. "i fucking told you."
he doesn't even know what to think. his mind is in a jumble of thoughts. it's undeniable that you had pushed him to his best this season. just having you there, reassuring him every single weekend. even when he crashed, even when he'd retired out of a race.
your legs slowly drop back down to the ground, and he finally gets a good look at your face. for some reason, you're just as sweaty as he is. the ponytail on your head is falling apart and the makeup running down your face almost makes him laugh.
then the excitement obviously hits you again. because you give him a firm and strong pat on his shoulder. "you proved them all wrong, max! you're a world champion!"
his chin is held high and his chest is puffed out. you'd never doubted him. it almost brings him to his knees how much support you had for him.
max is so full of emotion. the race, the title; you. you jump in your spot and clap, nose scrunching up in delight. "i told you this was your season! i knew it all along!"
and he just blurts it out. "(y/n), i love you."
you don't even hesitate. it's like you'd been waiting around to say it too. "i'm so fucking proud of you. i love you."
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trapastrology · 3 months
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Astro Notes
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A lot of Earth Bella Asteroid placements (specifically Virgo & Taurus) are it girls! Most of them don't even realize it becuz they think they're "plain". However, their beauty lies in their natural & effortless beauty! (Rihanna, Marsai Martin, Reagan Gomez-Preston, India Love)
Chiron in Synastry can heal or ruin
2H stelliums tend to be big on body care and love anything that makes them smell good. esp suns & venus. These are usually the ppl who are always getting told how good they smell and what they use.
Ppl with 2H ruler in the 1H can literally do anything to make money & it'll work so look towards the sign for more insight. 2H ruler in the 1H with the 2H in sag, teaching related to self in some way. For ex, teaching astro and using ur placements and ur chart as an example
4H NN focus on building a community. take pride in asking for help and knowing u have ppl to fall back on. go to family gatherings and build relationships (whether ur own fam or friends/partners fam).
In Moon-pluto & venus-pluto synastry, the planet person craves the pluto person and is usually extremely devastated when the relationship/friendship ends & it changes them in a drastic way whether for better or worse.
2H stelliums, 2H suns & chart rulers in the 2H... ppl are always trying to find out how you make money, how much money you make & what u spend ur money on. Ppl with these placements get called "big money" often or notice that other ppl are always offering up ur money.
11H Juno's spouse NEEDS to be their bestfriend. If they don't feel like they can talk to them about anything, do everything & more with this person it'll fail.
When u start to crave what ur NN rules over, know you're going in the right direction. 4H NN-when they crave having a family/community. Pisces nn, going with the flow and letting go of control
8H transits make you realize ur fears, trauma & wounds more often. You become more vulnerable as well as doing more things related to ur 8H sign. 8H Gemini-speaking about ur insecurities and vulnerability which is something u usually don't do. This is also a great time to get rid of bad habits, budget, save, isolate to rebirth, & and come out as a new person.
I do all readings & accept payements thru cashapp, apple pay, zelle & paypal! Dm me to book
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erosiism · 3 months
Text
A CASE OF REGRETS | YANDERE DUKE X M!READER.
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prompt: you die during a rebellion, and he turns back time for you in desperation | reader is childhood friends with claude (OC), both are planning a rebellion to usurp the throne.
character(s): duke, you
warnings(s): nil
note(s): male reader, second person, past tense, not beta read, excerpt from my fic on wattpad, to make amends
FIND MORE MOMENTS OF CLAUDE AND THE READER HERE.
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"Y/n!"
Blood spurted out.
"Y/n!"
Your vision blurred.
"Oh gods, are you okay? Are you—"
Your ribs hurt: were they broken? Bloodied? You could certainly taste the horrible taste of iron present in your tongue. It was clear to you that somehow you were dying. That something had turned against you. That you were...
"Please, please, please—"
Through your muddled vision you could make out a figure. A familiar silhouette running towards you, legs stumbling in desperation, breaths ragged.
It was nice to know that when you died, someone would grieve for you. That someone would cry for you.
There was only one person in the world who cared so much for you.
"Claude," you murmured. There was a smile on your face. "There's no need to cry..."
"Y/n, please—no—"
"Save it." You sighed, "there's no way I'm going to be surviving this."
It was true. Blood jetted out of your wound in spurts, staining your tailored uniform with a bright, crimson hue. You had loved that color mainly because Claude had ruby eyes, but now it just seemed gruesome, horrid. Pain had simmered down into a steady brew, and you wondered if your pain tolerance had simply grown stronger, or it was a telling sign of your fading consciousness.
"You were such a brat last time." You murmured. "You used to throw tantrums and everything...for a while, I thought you despised me. Even when we became adults, you were still heartless, cold...so why do you weep for me? Why do you grieve my death?"
I was a fool last time, Claude thought silently. I was a fool. I was a fool not to have shown my affections last time.
Because the truth was plain and simple, written in ink, written in the stars: Claude adored you. Was it not you who had held his hand in the gardens for strolls? Was it not you who accompanied him throughout, was it not you who could make him crack a smile, make him laugh? It had been all you. Every single joyous moment he had was caused by you. When he had finally received the title of the Duke. When he had finally defeated his family and his foes.
But Claude had been so wrapped up in his own troubles he had failed to notice your problems. Your dastardly family. Your...
He had neglected your wellbeing—he hadn't seen your deteriorating state, your weakening smile—he hadn't see any of that. He had been self obsessed, too engrossed in his own matters that he hadn't even—
Claude had taken too long to warm up to you. He could have been sweeter earlier. Made your life easier, no matter what it was. Claude had taken a while to truly open his heart to you: he had been rude, ungracious, curt. And you had been patient. Endlessly patient with him.
"We can save you," Claude said desperately, "we can."
You laughed. A tinkling, magical sound—but at that moment, it was so damned. So fucking painful to hear the cracks inside, the strain hiding inside the tone.
He knew it would be the last time he would ever heard it.
"You are the Emperor. You finally reclaimed your right to the throne. You finally..."
"Y/n," he whispered.
You shook your head.
"You achieved everything you sought for."
Perhaps he did. But the thing he truly wanted had been in front of him this whole time and he had been blind. Utterly blind.
And he would never forgive himself for that.
The tears slipped. His voice felt suffocated; choking.
"Don't cry," you touched his cheek gently and that pulled Claude temporarily out of his panic—"don't cry, alright? It was inevitable, Your Grace. Don't cry. The future Emperor doesn't cry."
Your Grace. Even then, you hadn't referred to him by his name. If he had another chance—just one singular chance—
He would allow you to call him by his name.
You were his everything.
You're my heart, Y/n.
If you die, then that would make me heartless.
There was so much blood, Claude realized. Coating his palms, running down your back. So much of its thick texture, its color, all drenched. Every single bit drenched—
Why was there so much blood? It wasn't his. He  wasn't unhurt, really. He wasn't that well off, but not to your extent. You sounded so tired when you spoke, so faint. So weak. You could have disappeared any second. Claude held you in your arms softly, gently—you could disappear any moment, your breaths wavering and quivering.
No, no, no.
I love you, Claude thought deliriously. I love you. I love you. I love you so much—
The voice grew and became stronger; louder even as you grew cold. Claude rocked you even when your hands fell, holding one to his own cheek. Your hands still had the faintest bit of warmth. He clung onto it desperately; motionless with the tears dried up with his throat feeling like sandpaper.
You can't leave me, he'd thought deliriously, hugging you close and rocking you again and again and again, you can't leave me.
Y/n L/n, I love you too much to let you go.
.
.
Claude had failed to save you. In front of him, your beauty was still visible in his eyes; your (h/c) hair, your (e/c) eyes—because of his arrogance, his incompetence, you had unfairly died. He had not noticed the blooming feelings in his stomach until you had been cold in his arms, and his tears had splattered on your cheek.
The universe has been cruel to you.
He had stood by your side and had watched you suffer and suffer and suffer; and for what? Only for the gods to turn their back on you? What was the point, really? Claude had been with you this whole time. Had seen the sacrifices you poured in, had seen—
He should have been the one that died, Claude despaired. Not you. Never you.
That night he couldn't sleep. The place was too empty without you. He had been crowned Emperor. But there was no you to accompany him by his side.
There was...absolutely no point.
Why was he even alive at this rate? Claude wondered. Everything would go back to life before you. Tedious. Long. Meaningless.
"Your Majesty, the Empire—"
"—do whatever you want." Claude rasped out. "Just...just..."
Please. If the Gods are listening. Please, please—
Turn back time. For me, for Y/n.
For...
[ The Gods have heard your prayers ]
.
.
Turning back time was unheard of. Something in the legends. Something Claude didn't believe in. Yet when he woke up—there had been disappointment in him, he had assumed that this was heaven yet you were nowhere in sight—there was the familiar surroundings of a room.
Not the Emperor's bedroom.
The bedroom from the manor he once lived when he was the illegitimate son of the Duke.
I must be dreaming, Claude thought. There was a flicker of hope he didn't dare to believe in. I must be dreaming of the happier times and the million what ifs.
Pain was tugging at his heart. It was painful. Everything was painful...
"—don't bother him. He just recovered from a sickness."
What?
What?
Delusional. Hallucinating. Delirious. To hear your sweet, sweet voice in such a dream—perhaps this was heaven after all. Claude didn't ever want to wake up. He didn't.
Because you were there. In front of him.
He sucked in a breath.
As sweet, as polite as he remembered. Every inch of his face had been committed to his memory. Every contour, every line. He had mapped you out in his head and had aligned you with the thousands of dazzling stars in the universe because you were the reason he bothered to continue living. Because you had become his reason for living.
You stood, in regal attire, with your posture as graceful as he had remembered. The sunlight streamed in through the paneled windows, caressing your features and alighting upon your lashes. He swallowed, trying to remember how to breathe.
"Ah, you are awake, Your Grace." You smiled at him.
"Y/n L/n," he said finally. "Y/n L/n." It's been so long since he could say this name to someone who would hear and respond to it. So many times he called your name out of your desperation in vain: hoping for some sort of hallucination to pop up, for some sort of inkling that your voice would carry over to his ears.
And you smiled.
Smiled.
Smiled.
Smiled—
Claude reached out to you and buried his face into your clothes.
You gave a startled smile.
.
.
The Duke had done a 180 complete turn.
"Y/n," he spoke with uncharacteristic fondness that you just didn't understand, "you are..."
Tears. There were tears on his cheek. Had you done anything to offend him? You thought not.
"Your Grace..." you reached out to brush his forehead with your fingers, "are you alright? You don't seem to have a fever."
Claude stared at you with wide eyes.
"Oh," You heard him say, and then, "you are as beautiful as I remembered."
What?
"Your Grace, are you really sure you are fine—"
Claude dashed forward, not even registering your words. He crushed you in his arms, a hand in your hair, head buried in his neck. He missed this. This warmth and this scent. Home, home. It's the smell of home. It's the smell of you. It's you. It's you. It's you. 
It worked, he thought. It worked. It fucking worked. I traveled back in time. 
"... Well then," you gave a small chuckle, confused upon what was happening, "it's a relief to see you have awoken—why are you crying?"
"You're here," Claude breathed, his first tangible words since his return. "You're here."
"Of course I'm here, Your Grace." You looked at him with confusion etched all over your features, frowning. "What's wrong? You..."
The Duke was looking at you like you were the only one that mattered in the world. And that—
Wow. What kind of coma did he have, to be behaving so peculiarly?
You wiped his tears, sighing and fussing.
"You know what—never mind. Tell me later—why are you still crying, Your Grace?"
Claude held onto you tighter.
Maybe he had bad dreams in his coma, you thought. He was holding on to you like you were a lifeline. Like you would disappear any second, any minute.
As though he would never let go of you again.
You patted the Duke's head gently, slowly, fingers running through his hair. "Don't cry. The future Emperor doesn't cry."
Those words. It was so hauntingly painful to him.
Claude didn't want to remember anymore. He didn't  need to remember. He had succeeded. The Gods had listened to him. You were alive and breathing, in front of him. You were—
Alive.
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reblog/like the post! comments are appreciated even if you read this before :)
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hwanchaesong · 5 months
Text
Ephemeral (Second Chances)
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pairing: Yang Jungwon X F!Reader
synopsis: You sat and listened to the silence, the time ticked and you watched him walk down the aisle full of strangers. What scared you though, was the fact that everyone was blurry except for his dimples that you used to kiss.
word count: 12.1k
genre & warnings:fluff, angst, suggestive (borderline smutty), summer break setting, pet names, cursing, drinking, lots of arguing, bickering, tension and jealousy, themes of engagement and marriage,miscommunication, Yeonjun of TXT as your brother (his gf here is unnamed), other idols' names are used, making-out, slight dry humping, tell me if i missed some
a/n: first up is our jungwon bc why tf not lmao. next up would be probably be ni-ki's. this is a part of Enhypen: Tropes & Parallels. enjoy the ride! all likes, comments & feedback (esp this one, i love love love reading y'all reactions. legit gives me the serotonin boost) and reblogs are much appreciated ✨
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The revival of the scorching sun is the mark of your independence from the tiring university life. Yet here you are, head hotter than the temperature outside that the air-conditioning couldn't cool it down.
"Are you fucking kidding me!?" you whisper-yelled at your brother with a staggering amount of self-control not to slap him silly for failing to tell you a very important information beforehand.
He held his hands up in defense, guilt written on his face and you almost forgave him when he gave you the puppy eyes.. but no can do.
"I take back what I said, I won't do it anymore." you solidly declared, turning around on your heels to leave the kitchen where you dragged your brother to have a 'private' conversation with him.
"Y/N! I really need you for this one." he held you back, latching onto your arm and if it's not a consequential deal then you'd probably guffaw at how he comically dropped on his knees, begging you for a favor.
"Yeonjun! I- let me go!" you tried pushing him away to no avail, his yowling further annoying you.
"No! Not until you g-"
His fussing were cut off when an eerily familiar voice resonated throughout the room, putting an end to the squabbling that is currently taking place on the shiny, vinyl floors of the kitchen.
"Yeonjun-hyung, is everything okay?" the intruder asked, making your sibling stand and fake a smile, waving his hand nonchalantly and wrapping an arm around your shoulders.
"Jungwon! Hi! Um, yeah, superb haha! Don't you think so, sister?" your fumbling brother turned to you, grinning but you take note of his googly eyes, silently notifying you to play nice and go along with him.
"N-" you yelped when you felt a stinging pinch on your arm, again, doing your best to conceal the unwavering indignation you're feeling. "Yes, don't mind us. You can go back to wherever you came from. We'll be out there shortly."
You felt his eyes on you, but you were adamant to not meet it, focusing on a piece of apple that was sitting on the counter instead.
The younger boy shrugged, muttering a small 'okay' before walking towards the living room again.
You face your brother, and he knows based on the shine in your eyes that you're pleading him to spare you, to look for another person who can help him because you don't want to go through this.. you don't want to go through him.
'High school sweethearts', was the category of your relationship back then.
The president and vice-president of the student council. The academic achiever and the sports champion. Yang Jungwon and L/N Y/N, a match made in heaven.
That's what everyone thought, if they want to talk to you, they just have to look for Jungwon and bam! You'll be right there as well. It was a common notion for you two to be inseparable, a matching set, the missing puzzle pieces that completes the picture.
You both knew that you were too young to be settling down, yet the assurance of being each other's endgame outweighs any lingering doubts.
Then on one fateful day, an incident happened. You dramatically gave it the title of 'Graduation Encounter: The Blessing of the Year.' (your friends were actually baffled on how you're able to name it like that, but they gaslighted themselves into thinking that maybe, this is your coping mechanism for dealing with heartbreak.)
You wanted to give him a gift after the ceremony, then you found him talking to his friend in the student council's room. You didn't mean to eavesdrop, and you're glad you did.
"Jungwon, do you see a future with Y/N?"
"No."
You heard his answer loud and clear to that damned question, and that was adequate for you to be crumpled, like the precious handmade present that you were holding.
That same night, you broke up with him through text. Not brave enough to face him in person but courageous enough to send him a long ass paragraph about what you learned before blocking him for good.
Then you did your best to avoid him like he's the plague. To forget him like that one sock you've probably hid somewhere but really didn't bother to look for until it flew outside your memory. Really, a vision of him brings you nothing but hurt and anger, also a terrible headache because you cannot fathom how he was once your beloved.
You did think that God loves you because Jungwon actually went to a different city to pursue his dream major in college, freeing you from his shadow. He won't be associated with you anymore and he'll be nothing but a mere nightmare that once haunted you in your peaceful slumber.
And now, you feel like the cycle is back to zero since you've had a glimpse of him. Like, all of your efforts to move on from him were nothing but trash, washed down the drain. Seeing him once more had you reeling into the hate shackle that he'd put you in.
"Y/N." Yeonjun called your name in a gentle manner, patting you on the head while he speaks to you sympathetically, "Look, I'm sorry that I didn't tell you. I regret that, but please, you're the one I trust the most. I can't possibly ask anyone else. Besides, you don't love him anymore, correct?"
... He has a point.
What the fuck are you even grumbling about?
How could you forget the promise that you made to yourself while you burn the letters and photos that he gave you, watching the fire engulf the memories that you previously held dear.
'The next time I see him, no more feelings are attached. He won't affect me anymore. I'll act casual, make him realize that I can live without him."
You concurred, steeling yourself from the upcoming escapade that you're about to embark on.
"You know what Yeonjun," you removed his hand on your head, crossing your arms as you gave him a poised smirk, "get your ass ready 'cause imma bestow you a showstopping wedding proposal."
You're confident, it's been a year since you've hung around Jungwon. Surely, you can keep all of these as strictly professional. You're mature enough, probably him too, it's not like he's gonna go and be a total hazard.
Right?
....
Wrong.
You were severely mistaken because the man is insufferable.
He's cocky and assertive, always has something to counter your suggestions and not to mention, a huge basher.. and you're getting tired of it.
He got your number yesterday when you stupidly agreed with your brother's pleas, thus, you're sitting here in a comfy café with a boy that you've assumed to never cross paths ever again after he messaged you last night for a meet-up and brainstorming session.
You kind of understood why your brother got him to assist with the proposal, given that he is Yeonjun's best friend, automatically making him the best man for the future wedding.
But still, he doesn't have to be so passive-aggressive about this. You're doing your best to be civil with him, so the least that he could do is treat you with respect as well.
"Okay, we're getting nowhere with this." you muttered, taking a deep breath and getting yourself ready to say another proposition when he interrupted your train of thoughts with a rather sarcastic reply.
"I mean, it's you so.." he trailed off, taking a sip of his iced coffee and you are so tempted to choke him at this point.
"Dear god, Jungwon you-"
He cuts you off when he suddenly whipped up the surprised pikachu face, "Finally! You've decided to call me by my name. That's the first step."
You squint your eyes at him, losing your cool at his unreasonable attitude, "What the hell is your problem?"
He feigned shock, clutching his chest as some sort of what you'd like to dub as tasteless acting, "My problem? Oh, miss, it pains me to know that you're blissfully unaware of your rude tone, sassy mannerisms, and not to mention the stink eye you've been giving me ever since you arrived here."
You straightened up from your seat. Were you really acting that way?
Pride must be your greatest friend, letting it fly high that it made you neglect the ethics that you've recited in your head a million times in order to be in a state of zen for this meeting.
"Don't play games with me now." you muttered, glaring at him and it drove you up the wall to see him scowl at you.
You haven't been in contact with him ever since the.. separation, and magic happened it seems, suddenly he appears in front of you out of thin air like a bunny hidden inside a fancy tall hat.
Except that the bunny is a complete 180 of what was supposed to be a sweet and little cutie patootie. You are well aware that change is inevitable. Yang Jungwon won't be the same person as he was before. What's infuriating you though, was the fact that he has the balls to be this brusque.
He sighs in defeat and it makes you even more confused, irritatedly staring at him as you wait for him to spout some more nonsense.
"I owe Yeonjun hyung a big one." he speaks, tone calm and it irks you how he's able to compose himself that fast, "I know we did not end on good terms, but I want to help him as much as I can. He's an important friend to me."
First, you'll give him some credit. He does acknowledge that the whole situation sucks because your past is something that one cannot simply overlook.
Second, Yeonjun is your brother, of course you'd want to lend a hand for him too.
Third, if this guy can go to great lengths for a person that he values then why didn't he-
You blinked, stopping yourself from continuing that thought. There is no fucking way you'll complete that dreadful rumination you're brewing inside your precious brain.
"Then what do you suggest?" you watch him smile in triumph, the first since your rendezvous. And as much as you hate to admit it, you did miss that joyful vibe he'd always emit.
Finally, he laid out the plans that he had painstakingly plotted the moment Yeonjun asked him about the perfect wedding proposal.
You listened intently to Jungwon, mindful of the schedule and divvying up the work, also making a mental note of your own ideas that you might pitch in later on.
Your brother will ask his girlfriend next Wednesday, during her birthday party celebration. That means that you only have a what? A fucking week to get everything done.
"That's it." he finishes his rambling, glancing in your direction and giving you ample time to take in his word vomit.
You are willing to put the bitterness behind you if it means that you'll see your brother happy and satisfied. He deserves that much, after all the love and support he has given you, it is only natural for you to return the benevolence he had showered you with since you were born.
You stood up from your seat, extending your hand to the curious man in front of you, "We'll do that and the things that I will also say at some point." you smile, having half a mind to compliment him for the meticulous planning, "You never lost your touch when it comes to creating blueprints, Mr. President of the Student Council."
He smirks at your unforeseen flattery masked in irony, accepting the handshake and not missing the chance to throw a jab in, "And you're still good at heeding my orders despite your nature of splashing it with your own ideas, Ms. Vice-President of the Student Council."
Your eyes widened, caught-off guard by his witty teasing.
Amidst the quiet coffee shop where the calming classical music surrounds the serene space, an imminent cyclone forms as the two former lovers, turned partners-in-cupid, stand with their hands clasped in harmony, regarding each other in a pique.
Game on.
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Day 1: Choosing a venue
You scanned the area thoroughly, a sense of merriment filling your heart while you observe the shades of green colliding in the small yard. Butterflies scattered around, the variety of plants and how they're trimmed and grown to perfection created a scenery of paradise. Not to mention the elegant fountain in the middle. (You could only chuckle at the thought of your brother gawking at the said piece of art.)
You're currently standing in a garden, the chosen location for the upcoming surprise, waiting for Jungwon to finish his business with the owners. He's the one who found the site in social media, thus, you made him do the honor of negotiating.
It was located in the countryside (2 to 3 hours drive from home), near the beach and the way the wind carries the ocean breeze brings a nice touch of freshness. It's tranquil in here, away from the bustling city and no gossip girls will appear out of nowhere.
You sat down in the wooden bench, taking a sip of your earl grey tea and sighing in contentment. Yeonjun would love it here, you also do think that the place is nice, and if you would be given the chance to choose a location for your own wedding engagement, this will definitely be your top pick.
"That's great! Thank you so much for giving us the spot next Wednesday."
Jungwon's distant jabbering snapped you out of your reverie, turning on your seat only to find him already focused on you, then he made a tiny gesture, telling you to come and meet the owners of the garden. You gave him a blank stare but obliged nonetheless.
You straightened your outfit, walking in his direction and coming face to face with the kind-looking elderly couple who's strangely gazing at you two with mirthful expressions.
"Good afternoon, I'm Y/N and-"
The older lady spoke, her sentence bamboozling you to no end.
"Is this the wife-to-be? Oh my god, she's gorgeous! You have a nice taste young man." she exclaims with a big grin, taking your hand in hers and shaking it vigorously.
"I have to agree with my wife here. You two are lovely together." her husband smiles as well, having the same opinion as his spouse.
"Oh no. Ma'am, sir, we are not- that's not..." you trailed off, awkwardness coursing through your veins and you had to get help from the equally bewildered man beside you, your whole body language begging for him to say something.
"I'm sorry to disappoint, Mr. and Mrs. Shin, but we're not together. It's actually her brother who's going to be engaged soon." Jungwon finally clears the confusion, a perplexed demeanor coming off from the pair.
After a while of explaining, the owners apologized for the misunderstanding, to which you easily accepted and even made a lighthearted joke about it. When everything's been settled, the place booked for next week's agenda and the duo promised to accommodate you to the best of their abilities, it was time to say farewell.
You made yourself comfortable in the passenger seat of Jungwon's car, peeping behind the tinted windows and being intrigued as to what they were discussing on the porch.
Right as you were about to leave, Mrs. Shin pulled Jungwon back to ask him a really important question. He had to usher you to go back first, but your inner detective conan was about to be let out of prison when you saw his scandalized facade just as the old woman whispered in his ears.
You witnessed how his ears turned red, the usual shy mien he had always sported back during highschool making an appearance, his adorable dimples showing when he pursed his lips to stop himself from laughing at what you can assume are ridiculous questions coming from Mrs. Shin.
You're a cat, a curious one at that, so you gaped at him when he entered the vehicle without so much of a word, revving the engine on and driving away.
Jungwon's right eye twitched when the irk of your not so subtle leering at him eventually provoked him to actually start a conversation with you.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?"
You puffed and glared at him, "The only thing that is wrong here is your attitude."
Jungwon visibly seethed through his teeth, gripping the steering wheel tighter, "Y/N." he called your name firmly, and believe it or not, his tone managed to create shivers down your spine. "Speak, we don't have all day."
"Well.." you bit your lip, suddenly embarrassed by your petulant behavior a few seconds ago.
"Well what?" Jungwon urged, momentarily glancing at your feeble figure.
"I was curious about what you were talking about with Mrs. Shin back there." you admitted with a small pout on your lips, evading his deriding eyes as you busied yourself with the enchanting terrains outside.
The sun had begun to set, casting a bright orange color across the skies, painting even the blue water seas with its beauty. A magnificent landscape, but your anxiety obstructs you from enjoying the view.
You heard Jungwon chuckle, and you were about to protest when he reassured you in the calmest way possible, "She was asking regarding Yeonjun hyung and his girlfriend. Nothing for your pretty little head to overthink about."
A certain word caught your attention, rotating your head a bit too fast that you almost had a whiplash, "Pretty? You think I'm pretty? Jungwon?"
He's smart enough to realize that you're doing this to rile him up.
"Y/N, I need you to shut up."
Day 2: Decoration and props
"No, we don't need that." you pinched the bridge of your nose when Jungwon picked up another set of balloons on the shelf, turning a deaf ear to his childish complaints when you rejected another item that he had deemed critical for the party.
"No fair!" he grumbles, pawing the objects in the cart, "All of the things in here are the ones that you've picked! You've never given me a turn to select at least one decor!"
You fight the intrusive necessity to abandon him in the aisle, personally wanting to save your crumbling image as the people around you begin to murmur at the commotion that Jungwon is causing.
"Alright! Alright!" you felt routed, you can never win against his juvenile stubborn personality, always having you at its mercy and if you tried to resist it, an impending doom is bound to happen.
"We'll pick one decoration of your choice, okay?" you showed him your index finger, shoving it into his face to reiterate your point, "Just one."
The way he cheered was akin to that of a child who was allowed by his mother to eat ice cream after winning a spelling bee competition. You shook your head at his antics, slightly laughing at his peppy steps as he sauntered towards the kids' birthday area of the store.
You begrudgingly followed him, grimacing at the item in his hand. You were about to nag the hell out of him, to question him the purpose or importance of some multicolor whistle blowout in a formal event.
But you stopped when you felt a tiny tug on your pants, squealing in delight when you were greeted by the cutest human being on earth.
"Hello little guy." you crouched down to match the child's height, your former frustration melting at the sight of his puffy cheeks and red eyes, probably from crying. "Are you lost?"
The youngster nodded his head a yes, and you couldn't help but coo when he made grabby hands at you, letting you know that he wanted to be carried. And who are you to say no to an angel?
At this time, returning the kid to his parents becomes your priority, "What's your name?" you gently asked the boy in your arms, swinging slightly from side to side in an attempt to further pacify him.
"Sunoo." he murmurs from your shoulders, sniffling and for a moment he gazes at you like he's in some deep thought, then he slapped your cheeks in his chubby hands, "You're young mommy."
You don't know if this is a compliment or not, but you smiled either way, thanking him and you're about to proceed to the security when Jungwon went and made his forgotten presence known again.
Sunoo shrieked when Jungwon blew the damned party horn, the tube unrolling and hitting the child in the face. For a minute you were so tempted to chuck Jungwon into a ditch, getting nervous at the thought of Sunoo crying... thank god he didn't.
The young one liked an element of surprise it seems, clapping his hands excitedly and spurred Jungwon (the child called him young daddy and you nearly gagged) to do it again, to which he did, causing Sunoo to erupt in a fit of giggles.
Something in your heart clenched while you watched the two interact, it was thumping rather loudly in your chest, reminding you of the dead and buried daydreams that you once had.
You'd be lying if you said that you never imagined a family with Jungwon. You'd be fooling yourself if you said that you've never pictured Jungwon as a part of your future.
The future that he said he couldn't see with you.
Rage suddenly shoots in and replaces the melancholic emotions you're in, and Jungwon felt that when your eyes are literally shooting him through his skull. His play time with Sunoo came to a halt, peering at your upset form and he frowned, inquiring if you're okay.
You refrain from meeting his brown orbs, giving only a hum in response and that made Jungwon's frown deeper.
The kid pouts, looking back and forth at the two adults, "Is young mommy and young daddy fighting?"
"No," you answered immediately, "we're not. Everything's fine honey." you tried your best to smile, albeit strained, "How about we find your parents, hm?"
You found the perfect way to escape Jungwon's piercing gaze, leaving him alone with his thoughts. You wouldn't be able to keep up with his interrogation and you'd rather die than be upfront with him.
This is not supposed to bother you. You must remain poised and rational at all times, a reminder that you kept on repeating inside your mind while you escorted the child to the security, having them announce the presence of Sunoo into the intercom.
After a few minutes of waiting, his parents finally arrived, thanking you profusely and as a way to show their gratitude, they happily paid all of your bills in the shop. (Jungwon stayed in the halls, giving the reason of not wanting to leave your cart unattended.)
You bid your goodbyes, promising Sunoo to visit him when you have the time. His mother and father were kind enough to give you their phone number and address, and it was your turn to thank them for giving you the opportunity to see Sunoo whenever you wanted to. They waved it off, saying 'our son was attached to you, he'll surely cry his heart out if he's not able to see you again.'
After the parting, the worst part that you're abstaining from followed, the stillness inside the vehicle was suffocating, and anybody with eyes can clearly tell how palpable the tension is.
You distracted yourself by counting the droplets of rain that fall on the window, listening to the buzzing radio, anything to brush the unsettling vibes aside.
The car went to a halt on the side of the road and you were stupefied at the abrupt break, you turned to reprimand the driver but you noticed that he was doing nothing but to stare ahead of the empty, wet pavement.
"Are you uncomfortable with me?"
He was direct, not fumbling around with his words and it made you hate him. How can he be so brave when it comes to confrontation?
"Let's just go. We're wasting time here."
Sidetracking was what you were best at, and that made Jungwon clench his jaws hard, will you ever change?
"Y/N, answer me." it was a ticking time bomb, the sudden change in your mood a while ago was a big mystery to him, and he'll never lay it off until he learns the reason why.
"Why should I?" you deadpanned, acting clueless to genuinely irritate him.
"Because we're not leaving until you answer me. You have two choices, Y/N." he's motionless, but you weren't, and you're about to do the most clichéd shit out there.
Yes.
You glanced at him for a second, gave him a resentful smile, then you exited out of his car, not paying any mind to Jungwon's shouts for you to come back. You were adamant to trek your way home if it means that you won't have to stay in that asphyxiating conflict.
A yelp escaped you when Jungwon harshly jerked you to cease your movements, your back bumping into his sturdy chest as he held you by the arm.
"Let me go." you demanded, not having the energy to struggle in his grip, you reckon that it'll be useless because Jungwon is much stronger than you. Ain't no way you're squandering your energy over a futile endeavor.
"Is it really that difficult for you to be with me?" he whispers and you've gone frigid, did he really say that with such dejection?
"If you are not comfortable with me, I could tell Yeonjun hyung. You wouldn't have to spend your time with a person that you.. hate."
It physically pained Jungwon to utter that dreadful word, but if it makes you feel better then he would gladly swallow the numbing pill, he won't say it out loud, but your happiness will always be his priority.
And you think you're being selfish, of course, the break-up did not only affect you, it must have damaged him too.
Undeniably, you need to knock some sense into your brain.
"I'm sorry," you shuffled around until you were facing him, "I'm being absurd. I was-" you took a deep breath, "I was reminiscing, okay?"
You didn't have to tell him more, he understands. He always did, even during your darkest times, he was the only one who could bring you out of your emotional shell.
Jungwon held his pinky out, "Tell me when your reminiscing gets too much, I'll give you space. For now, let's be casual, yeah?"
A hint of the corner of your lips quirking up made him feel like a champion, intertwining your pinky with his in a small-scale pledge.
It's thorny for it was not attended for the longest time, but the residual connection can be made as a starting point to fix a rift.
Under the heavy droplets of the heavens, soaking through your shirts, what matters the most in this solemn atmosphere is this: the neverending solidarity to Yeonjun's imminent marriage proposal.
Day 3: Food and catering
You were never a fighter, you have counted yourself as a lover, but right now, your fist itches to land a blow on a random girl's face... a broken nose suits her the most, you think.
She keeps on twirling her hair, her fake high-pitched voice is sickening, and the way she stands is so vexing.
Yeah, you do understand where she's coming from.
Jungwon, for some reason, was all dressed up for today's schedule. An outfit that hugs his lean body exquisitely, dynamic enough to tuck his long-sleeved button up in a black trouser, said sleeves of the button up were rolled up to his elbows. He was no doubt showing off his broad shoulders, rich man arms and slim waist, heck, even his hair is styled flawlessly.
You on the other hand weren't severely outclassed, aware of the fancy catering service that you're visiting. A simple dress and a pair of boots sufficed you, then again, you were never the fashionista in this tandem.
What you're pissed about is an enigma, but you do know that you want to thwack Jungwon in the face too. He eats all the girl's recommendations, and he has the audacity to giggle at every word that she says!
At first, you were ecstatic to test the foods presented to you, as time goes by, you lost interest because the host didn't bother to give you the fucking time of her day, focusing entirely on Jungwon.
Hence, you find yourself sitting in the corner of the room, boring holes into the pair as you nurse your glass of Cheval Blanc 1947.
"Here are our cheese section!" the woman speaks in an unnatural cheerful tone, and you couldn't help but grimace at her dying whale sounds. Just then, Jungwon turns on his heel and beckons for you to come.
"Ah, sadly I'm lactose intolerant. It's okay though, my girlfriend here can taste it for me." he motions in your direction, to where you stand dumbfoundedly at the most shocking news of the day.
He lied and he used the godforsaken title on you.
"Baby? Are you okay?" Jungwon asked, hurrying in your direction while resting his hand on your lower back, guiding you to the long table where the enormous amount of dishes are laid out. He then softly murmurs against your ear, "I'm getting tired of that girl, please help me get rid of her."
You raised a suspicious eyebrow, "Weren't you enjoying the attention from her?"
You almost winced, you sounded like a jealous girlfriend back there, but Jungwon was too appalled to even notice the slip-up.
"The fu- No. I was being polite but one more of her screeching and god, I'd jump off a cliff."
His nauseated visage made you snicker in amusement, yet you acknowledged his scheme and you are ready to bring your inner Julia Roberts out.
"Yep, I'm fine.. baby." you intentionally made your voice louder, adding the bit after a millisecond of self reflection, pressing your body closer to his and boldly landing a palm over his chest, "So, what about the cheese?"
From your peripheral sight, the attendant was obviously fuming at the blatant display of affection. She did well at concealing her rage though, keeping an impassive guise in spite of her clenched fist.
Jungwon grabbed some pieces of the dairy products (no, not by his hands, they are conveniently skewered), inspecting them and as usual, lady whale in clown make-up happily expounds each and every last one of the cheese to him.
He was unfazed by the unsolicited trifling, instead fixing his whole attention on you, his hands clutching yours when he felt your grip on him became tighter at the girl's attempt of flirting with him.
"Here, taste it for me." he prodded you, gently feeding you each cheese, completely disregarding whatever chatter was happening around the room.
The delicious milk excites you, unconsciously doing the dance that you used to do whenever you find a magnificent dish.
Jungwon beams, finding your actions endearing, then it fell down when the attendant who couldn't take a damn hint pitched in some cynical comment towards you.
Oh, he was about to berate her, but you stopped him from doing so, wanting to deal with the mini but pointless battle.
"Miss, may I ask what's your preferred cheese?" you detach yourself from the boy, squaring up to the attendant.
You're about to give her a taste of her own medicine, except you are preparing it to be more bitter than a gosam tea.
She eyed you sassily, feigning a cheerful expression before pointing at the Ricotta.
"I knew you were a basic bitch." a depreciating giggle was heard from you, facing Jungwon and throwing your hands around him which he naturally returned, "Wonnie, we should get the Brie de Meaux."
"Hm? Okay then, we'll order that. We expect everything to be fresh and that it will arrive on time next week." Jungwon utters with finality, his words directed to the food presenter but he did not batted her with any ounce of regard.
You craned your neck, smirking at the aggravated woman.
Sweet victory. Well, it's not like she had any winning odds. She had it coming to her either way, fighting a losing skirmish.
Today's events should've scared you to your wits. The manner in which you and Jungwon held, talked, and looked at each other.. it was too innate. It did not feel like you were putting on a show to make that witch act accordingly.
It's peculiar that the day ended in a carefree manner. Both sides were satisfied and radiant, no bickering and no ill intentions whenever the other had their back undefended.
Maybe the soliloquy under the rain washed the remnants of black smoke and withered petals away, creating a blank canvas that can be painted with the daylight colors of a blossoming friendship.
Yeah, that must be it. Friendship.
Day 4: Flowers
"Red roses are good. Also, please add some white lilies and pink carnations into the roster, she'll love it." you rambled to the florist, but she merely gave you an understanding nod and proceeded to work with your request.
A yawn was heard from the corner of the shop and you suppressed the urge to punch the suspect of the offending sound, you chose the peaceful option of ignoring the person, continuing to mind your own business not until someone broke the silence that you've been enjoying.
"What's taking so long?" he asked, boredom lacing his tone, and that's when you whipped around to give him a warning look.
"Jungwon, picking the perfect flowers takes some time. If you want to go home, then go. No one's stopping you." you sassily replied, gracing him a tight lipped smile in the process.
It irked you even more when he rolled his eyes, mumbling something under his breath that you're sure is a snide remark towards you.
He was fine the last few days, so why on earth is he acting like a brat now?
You sighed, rubbing your forehead and pondering some ways to de-stress later. Surely, planning a proposal with your ex-boyfriend is something that you, a sane person, wouldn't do during your free time but here you are.
What was your brother even thinking, sending you with this jerk (which is conveniently his best friend), to help and prepare for the upcoming surprise for his girlfriend. Of course you'd love to do whatever you can for your dear sibling, but this is ruthless.. and plain torture.
While yes, you agreed to your brother's request, days like this where Jungwon is being unbearable made you question your decisions in life.
Just before you go deeper within your thoughts, a handsome man holding a bouquet of your chosen flowers emerged from the back room. He beamed at you, his eyes crinkling adorably and his dimples poked through his cheeks.
"Hello there!" he greeted you with joy, polite but bright and it made you naturally smile as well. Like they say, happiness is a virus that can easily infect anyone.
"Yes, hello uhm.." you trailed off, looking at his name tag, "Soobin?"
"That's me." he giggled and dear lord, were you about to burst at his charming facade, "I'm the floral designer here and I wanna ask if you're okay with this presentation?" he raised an eyebrow, showing you the beautifully arranged bunch of flowers, wrapped in an abaca and tied with a pink ribbon.
"Oh, it's gorgeous! You're great at this." you exclaimed, making the tall man blush, getting shy at your compliment.
"Ah, not really. The flowers are doing most of the work here, which I'm guessing are your favorites?" he scratched the back of his head, gazing at you with a soft smile.
Jungwon on the other hand frowned, like, what the fuck is this exchange of flirting he's seeing?
Not. Fucking. Tolerable.
He stood up from where he was seated, slamming his hand on the counter, effectively startling the two people who were conversing which gave him immense satisfaction.
"That's good enough. We'll take that." he feigned a charming smile, allowing the dent on his cheeks to show as well.
That Soobin guy can go to hell, his height and deep voice (that were a stark contrast to his own traits) do not matter, he's not the only one with dimples here.
You were shocked, surprised, disturbed, all adjectives out there are not enough to describe the bombshell that Jungwon dropped, but you weren't gonna stand there and let him be rude. Right as you were about to tell him off and apologize to Soobin, he managed to leave an impact again.
This time, it's fatal for your poor, weak heart.
"And those aren't her favorites. It's a combination of lilac, purple peonies and white tulips, actually."
You bent your neck to look at him, realizing the small proximity you two are in. He's mere inches away from you. Too close that you're able to see his sharp side profile and inhale the scent that you've tried to desperately forget during the sleepless nights where all you've wanted was to be held by him.
You have forgotten about Soobin by now, the vow that you took, the walls that you've built, everything. The only thing that you care about as of the moment is that Jungwon remembers.
Jungwon still knows the flowers that you wanted for your own wedding.
"Jungwon.." his lowly muttered name from your lips made him aware of his surroundings, noticing how close he was standing next to you, quickly distancing himself so as to not make you uneasy.
"I'm sorry." he cleared his throat, sparing Soobin a glance before making an ungraceful exit from the flower shop. A half-assed excuse of having to do something and that he'll leave the decision to you.
When Jungwon was out of the establishment, you turned to Soobin and shot him an apology as well.
"Nah, it's fine. Seems like I crossed a line." he chuckles, wiggling his eyebrows at you teasingly afterwards, "He might come off as a passive one but he's actually possessive. That's hot."
You snorted and rolled your eyes, bluffing an expression of indifference and denying whatever the florist was trying to imply.
"He's not a boyfriend?" he asked, listing the order and other details so it'll be delivered on time for the celebration.
"No, not a boyfriend. He's a friend." emphasizing the latter, though it was clear that Soobin wasn't persuaded, given by the knowing smile he sent you.
"If you say so."
You hummed, eyes trailing to the cat-like boy outside, having finished his 'business' and is now leaning against his car, patiently waiting for you.
Having him as a friend is a good thing, yeah, you'll convince yourself that.
Day 5: Engagement ring
"Thank god Yeonjun actually did something for his own wedding proposal." you groaned, threading through the people of the jam-packed mall, spotting the familiar male in front of the jewelry shop that you've been finding for the past five minutes.
You were about to yell at him, but then you noticed he was busy with his phone. He was texting someone, with a small smile.. and dare you say that it was a smitten one.
The world slows down for a while in your perspective, you have to remind yourself that yesterday's ruckus, and the other days before that were nothing but a sham. A mere helping hand and concern for a friend. Nothing more, nothing less.
You told yourself not to be envious, in fact, it could be his sister or friend or a relative! Yada yada, no, it doesn't really matter even if it's a prospective lover.
Totally none of your business.
You inhaled, gripping your bag rigidly and stiffly walking towards him. Your silhouette must have caught his attention as he hastily closed and hid his phone in his pocket, acknowledging your presence with a tasteless hello.
Today's task is not a laborious one, you just have to check if the engagement ring is done and if it'll fit the finger properly. After that, you can take it back home, give it to Yeonjun so he could sneak it and voila- simple as that.
Entering the shop had your eyes bulging, the prices of the ornaments had you gagged. The fuck you mean an engagement ring can go up to a whopping 2 million won or more?
"These are expensive." you gasped, "Who would've thought that getting married can be this costly?"
"It's a precious gemstone, carved and refined into amelioration. It shows how much one cares about their partner, don't you think so, mademoiselle?" a voice startled you, clutching your chest, the jeweler behind the counter gave you a dazzling, apologetic smile at his suddenness.
"Gosh no, don't get me wrong. They are divine!" you raised your hands up in defense, "I'm sorry if I offended you."
"It's no problem." he laughs it off, placing a velvet red box on the glass counter, leniently opening it and you were blown away at the visuals of what was inside it. "By the way, this is the jewelry that you requested."
You were amazed to say the least. Yeonjun might be an idiot when it comes to art, but you can guess that love does strange things. He chose the perfect ring that his girlfriend will surely love.
"Is this ready to go?" Jungwon asked, startling you for the second time of the day, which was partially your fault because you did forget that he was beside you all this time while you're busy gawking at the trinkets.
He carefully studied the ring, the golden band with a cut of rose quartz on top glistens under the lighting of the establishment, it is truly sublime.
"One last step, monsieur. We have to make sure that it fits, you should try it on our mademoiselle here." the jeweler motioned to you, and you were about to reject him, apprehensive of the idea but you saw Jungwon hold his hand out.
You gaped at the boy, not expecting him to concede right away.
Time ticked by yet he's not showing any signs of trickery, the pressure weighs on your shoulders but you complied, cautiously covering his palm with your own.
It was electrifying, the way his fingers grazed your knuckles and his softened gaze on your skeptical mien. Goosebumps run across your arms, tickling the sentiments that you've locked in a vault as he slides the metal that was supposedly filled with promises on your ring finger.
"Gorgeous." Jungwon breathes, and you'd think that he was pertaining to the jewelry only if you did not miss the elusive starred glance he sent your way.
You surveyed your clasped hands, zooming on the ring and damn it to hell, it's too real to ignore and you're about to make a grave mistake if this continues.
A cough pulled you out of your self-absorbed hallucinations, separating your hand from Jungwon's and swiftly removing the ring on your finger, returning it to its proper place.
"It's excellent, we'll take it." you pretended to be fine, like your heart isn't about to pop out of your chest due to tachycardia that was rightfully caused by the person who is currently cooking you with his heated stare.
The jeweler gave you two a once over, a strange smile on his face before excusing himself and disappearing at the back of the shop, probably to pack the ring.
"What?!" you snapped when he remained steadfast on his staring, not having enough patience at Jungwon's antics anymore, crossing your arms in an unsophisticated stance, ready to drop kick the mixed signal giver.
He cackled at your aggressiveness, patting you on the head, "You're adorable when you're flustered."
He's bad news. He's dissolving your resolve and you think it's funny how he's able to scratch your surface easily.
Have you always been this weak? Or are you delicate only in his company, as if it's second nature to you after being with him for the longest time?
You'll never know and you're dead set on not knowing.
You'd live in this bliss called ignorance if it means that you can carry on with the denial, because there is no fucking way you're regaining the ardor you once held for this dumbass who broke your fragile heart.
You'll blame the bygone familiarity.
Flicking his hand off, you mustered the most arrogant expression you could do, "I was born adorable, Yang."
Day 6: Music
"Your obsession with Taylor Swift is unhealthy."
"And you think that BTS will do the trick?"
Jungwon lets out an affronted wheeze, "Yeonjun-hyung loves BTS."
You side eyed him from your position on the floor, "And his girlfriend's whole anthem is Taylor Swift."
You glared at each other, having a silent clash on which music should be played during the proposal.
"Can't we have a common ground here?" you went over the counter, refilling your empty glass of cheap wine that you found in Jungwon's cabinet and chugging it in one go.
The two of you are currently conceiving the ideal music to be played during the actual proposal in his flat's kitchen. It's 7 PM, he invited you over, you accepted, and now you're giving each other shit for the difference in music taste.
You understand the assignment. It should be romantic enough that it'll set the mood, love will fill the air and possibly make the girlfriend cry. Thus, you recommended a song that fits the occasion, yet your nemesis begged to differ.
Jungwon clicked away on his laptop, scouring through youtube but it 'coincidentally' ends up in the same audio that he's been fighting for.
"Open your ears and listen, Euphoria is the real deal here." he sassed, and you couldn't help but scrutinize him, making your way over to him and tapping on his keyboard aggressively.
"Daylight is what we're looking for, buddy." you played the song, making Jungwon groan in distaste.
He was yapping about how picturesque the celebration would be if Euphoria echoes in the background while Yeonjun goes on one knee, professing his undying commitment to the love of his life.
You put a hand under your chin, pondering over the concept, then a light bulb went off.
You slapped Jungwon on the back, shrugging his pained mewls off and telling him the great idea that you got. He was tentative at first, but he still did it when you threatened him that you'll eat his last stored curry if he didn't do your request.
Finally, a mash-up of two love songs in piano versions was made.
You listened to it, and you mentally give yourself a pat on the back at your once in a blue moon stroke of genius.
Euphoria is a good option during the actual proposal, but what about after it?
Slow dancing under the fairy lights, foreheads touching with lovesick smiles, knowing that you're on the road to forever with your soulmate is equal to Daylight.
"If we're talking about a slow dance then Serendipity would do the job." Jungwon intercepts, emotionless at the compromise that you made.
With your hands on your hips, you started chiding him for the unsought disrespect, "Boohoo, if you tried dancing to this then maybe you'll realize how amazing this is."
You shrieked when you were suddenly whisked to your spot, landing in the middle of the kitchen as Jungwon stands in front of you with an unwavering determination.
"Show me then maybe I'll understand your point." he mumbles, then you pause, is he actually telling you to dance with him? Right now? In his kitchen?
This is so random and ridiculous. What made him think that you'd do such a thing just to get your intention across a river of crocodiles to him.
"I don't have to do that!" you whined, glowering at him, crossing your arms in disdain.
You don't know what kind of evil spirit possessed him to act like this, but you don't like it. Simply because it's making you incredibly perturbed.
"I won't settle for Daylight then."
And like fate is by your side, the lights in his kitchen, without notice, sparked and then poof! Gone.
It was pitch black, and you'd think that this is the divine intervention that you needed to flee the nerve wrecking condition he's put you through.
You heard Jungwon cuss, sputtering some 'Jay-hyung' and 'fixed it my ass' before ordering you to stay right where you are.
Some shuffling was heard, you'd be astounded at how he's navigating in this blackout but you gathered that he'd probably memorized the layout of his own house by heart.
All of a sudden, the classical melody of Daylight plays loudly on his gigantic speakers, then a dim yellow light covers a small area to illuminate.
Mr. Smartpants used the refrigerator to cast a glow in the darkness, and now he is right there, situated right where he used to be, meeting you face to face and you're lost.
Lost in his eyes, in the way he saunters to you, his palms landing on your waist as he begins to move in sync with the velvety melody.
He speaks in the softest decibel you've ever heard, feathery touches scorched you despite the clothes that separate the tiny space between his hand and your skin.
"Show me, Y/N, and I'll believe you."
You could've pushed him away, but no, you just had to hold onto his broad shoulders, letting him swing you back and forth, delicately following the rhythm of the music in accordance to the beating of your heart.
The lyrics got stuck in your head when you dared to peek at him through your eyelashes, the truth dawning on you— Yang Jungwon is your daylight.
He was intertwined with you by destiny itself. Your black and white cinematics became golden when he entered your story.
Why did it have to go all wrong instead of the one that you prayed for?
"Y/N," Jungwon hushed, "you have no idea of how much I've missed you."
Each word was heavily punctuated with a certain yearning, and it may be the intimacy of the atmosphere or your unholy alcohol consumption, but you suddenly have this desire to cradle his face.
So you gave in to it. You only live once, so why not make the most of it when an opportune moment appears.
"Did you really?" he leaned into your touch, dangerously close yet you paid no heed to the warnings, choosing to relish in his warmth.
He mirrored your smile, dimples poking through his cheeks, and you're unable to refrain yourself from poking it. Fingers gliding on his smooth skin, digging on the inherent dent that the angels sculpted and gifted him with.
His arms are now fully wrapped around your waist, the tip of your noses tickling each other, his hot breath blows over your dry lips every time he exhales, a contrast to the icy ventilation generated from the opened refrigerator.
"I did. So fucking much that I asked your brother to set us up."
What did he do?
You dropped your arms to your sides, appalled at his confession, forcing you to move back from him, creating a minimal margin with furrowed brows, "What do you mean by that?"
He held you back, securing you in his arms because there's no way he's letting you go like he did before. No more blunders that he'll inevitably repent at a later date.
"My love, please, hear me out." it was his turn to cup your face, dropping all formalities and going back to the endearment that he used to call you.
When you didn't answer, he took that as a cue to continue, "You broke up with me through text, you avoided me, and I.. I thought it was done. That it really was the best for us to separate ways. I thought moving on would be the best option, but it wasn't. I went to a whole other city to forget you, but even there you followed me."
You were breathing rapidly, trying to cope up with the information that he was spilling, you opened your mouth, barely managing to utter a single question, "How come?"
"Because you are here," he grasped your hand, guiding it to his temple, "here," to his chest, "everywhere really." finally bringing your hand up to peck the back of it.
"Everything that I see there reminds me of you.. of us, but I endured the pain of living without you until I saw a photo of you with a guy on your social media." he chuckles, murmuring against your skin, "That shit got my head spinning and I knew I had to get you back."
In a flash, you were outraged, hearing his impulsive decision rooted from his ugly green monster. Your memories have been refreshed, the dead case now reopened from the grave. How dare he decide that he'll walk in your life again after the bullshit that he had carelessly spat.
"Wow! The audacity that you have." you mused, completely disengaging yourself from him in spite of the aching protests of your consciousness to stay still in his arms, "After telling people that you don't see a future with me? Now, you want me back?"
Your over the top 'Ha!' at the end of your sentence had Jungwon reeling in anger. Here you go again, acting out the stubborn lioness made out of sheep's wool.
He took slow but gnarly steps towards you, his eyes that held daggers pierced through your soul and that unlocked a new fear within you, causing you to take your own steps backwards. The cycle went on, until your back hit the counter.
You cursed at the deities of fortune for their inadequacy at today's chapter of 'Y/N escaping confrontation with Jungwon part 2.'
"You never let me unravel whatever shit you're thinking or hearing." Jungwon sneers with steady footsteps, and you had the conviction to stare right into his own orbs only to be thrown into the rabbit hole.
There he was, treacherous vibe and clenched fists but all you could distinguish are his porcelain features and glassy eyes. Never had you ever thought that anyone would look divine with only a somber gleam and shadows casted over their face.
Yang Jungwon had a great ability of proving your theories erroneous.
Finally, he towers over you, caging you with his hefty and sullen stature, "You didn’t hear the full conversation and you're quick to judge."
You gulped in anticipation, closing your eyes shut while gripping the marbled countertop and bracing yourself for the wave that will crash upon you.
"Y/N, I do not imagine you in my future." that stings, that shit hurts to the point that tears begin welling up, then your eyes are wide open at his next words, "You are not in my future because you are the future. My future. Do you get it? I don't imagine. I, indubitably, want you to be at the center of it all."
He speaks nothing but the truth. Seriously, what is the point of all this if at the end of his sail in the sea, he doesn't have the reason why he even went on the journey beforehand.
You are stupid, you think, willing yourself not to cry at your own ignorance.
Two things were validated: you are a very bad eavesdropper and an even worse decision-maker.
"W-won..I ruined everything we had, didn’t I?" you sniffed, lowering your head in shame.
"Baby, my flower," Jungwon whispers, hugging you tightly before tilting your chin so you're able to look at him again, "don't cry. Shh, it's okay."
"How can you sa- hmpf!" your sentence was cut short when a pair of lips went and shut you up.
It was a searing and soulful kiss, more than sufficient to convey the flickering love that kept on shining even during the seasons of yearning and ache.
It was the assurance that you needed, that you are and will always be forgiven despite the conflicts that you've caused. All is well, all is fine because as far as Jungwon is concerned, it's okay if the mess turned out to be an arson you orchestrated.
People might brand him as the batshit crazy kid in town, but he couldn't care less. You are his mess and he is your crazy. Thus, he will gladly burn for you if it means that his ashes will stick on you like a tattoo.
You unintentionally moaned when Jungwon bit your lower lip, aggressively shoving his tongue down your throat as he hoisted you up on the counter. His hands went to your exposed thighs, courtesy of you wearing shorts, while yours landed on his tuft of silky hair.
He situated himself in between your legs, tracing lines on your thigh and in stupor, you vaguely made out the 'mine' and a mini heart he drew beside it... or that may be your imagination taking a toll on you since his ministrations are definitely making you intoxicated.
Jungwon explored your mouth like a hungry beast, swiping over your gums, your teeth. It was a temporary fight for dominance, to which you gave in easily, allowing him to massage your own tongue in his.
He momentarily pulled away for oxygen, instructing you to stick your tongue out, and he managed to elicit another moan from you when he sucked on it, a sensual exchange of saliva occuring, causing you to tug on his hair.
A groan escaped from him, kissing you some more before detaching himself on your bruised lips, opting to slide his head down the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent and smooching all over that had you giggling.
He smiles against your skin, mumbling something that kind of sounds like 'Gosh, I love hearing you laugh.'
It was such a sweet moment, then the man went wild. Licking up a stripe just below your ears, lightly nibbling on your lobe to make you squeal before dipping his head in your clavicle, sinking his teeth on your collarbone before soothing it with a kiss. He then kicked it up a notch, skidding your shirt on your left shoulder to uncover more of your skin for him to feast on.
He trailed kisses on your shoulder, up to your weak spot until he decided to bite and suck on it, making you gasp in pleasure. You whimpered his name, which basically egged him to paint you more in purple, marking you as his.
Jungwon's hands can't stay in place, roaming around your body until it slips inside your oversized shirt. His calloused palms set your skin ablaze as it snaked over your bra-clad breast, palming it for a while before moving towards your back, unclasping your under garment and removing it expertly out of your shirt.
His hand groped your chest, the other one almost ripped your shirt in a haste to reveal the upper fats of your mound, his mouth immediately attaching on it to suck some more hickeys.
You were getting antsy in your position, wiggling and moving around to find some friction due to your growing needs. One that was found on Jungwon's jeans, pressing your lower half on his in a desperate attempt for relief.
"Fuck, baby." Jungwon cursed when you grinded on his clothed hard-on, his heavy panting covering the expanse of the room, "If you continue doing that, I won't be able to control myself anymore."
Your hooded eyes made contact with his dark ones, then you made a conclusion, pulling him in for a few seconds of make-out session.
"Don't control yourself then, Wonnie. I'm yours."
His smirk tells you that you don’t have to say anything anymore, swooping you off the counter princess-style, "I'll show you what it means to be mine, then."
Day 7: Finalization
It was safe to say that Jungwon was losing his mind throughout this ordeal.
He was set to wake up with you by his side, but to his dismay, no trace of you were left the next morning after your.. eventful night.
Jungwon was so sure that he'll straighten things up with you.
He already made a promise that he'll take care of you, that he'll love you more than he used to. He clarified your misunderstanding, reassuring you that communication will be the key this time around.
All those honeyed and candid pillow talk for this tomfoolery to happen?
Jungwon is not known for bragging but heck, you were, without a doubt, sent to heaven back on earth when he showed you how much he misses, loves, and owns you.
So where the fuck are you and why did you leave him alone and cold in his bed?
You didn't block him per se, his messages and calls going through but he did realize that you're actively avoiding him again.
This is literally making his blood boil, add to that the piling stress of overseeing the venue and other things for the proposal tomorrow alone.
"Jungwon!"
Well no, technically he's not alone. Yeonjun graciously called another friend to assist him during your unexcused absence. (He was being dramatic because you're not here with him.)
"What!?" he snapped, looking at the shocked but amused older male.
"Damn, did someone spit in your coffee today?" the man cackled, nudging Jungwon with a teasing grin.
"I'll spit on you if you don't drop it." Jungwon scowled, not in the mood to play around, "What do you need, Jay-hyung?"
The American smirked, biting his lower lip to withhold himself from tittering and possibly further annoying the moody sheep, "The workers are asking where to put the cut outs. They need instructions."
Jungwon groaned, that was meant to be your job!
"Okay, I'll go there." he says, stomping his way into the middle of the garden, and if you look closely, you'll be able to see the popping veins in his forehead and the fuming smoke coming out his ears.
Jay shook his head, truly, you have no idea how much you affect Jungwon, don't you?
D-day
Jungwon was 100% sure that you wouldn't attend, but then you got him flabbergasted when you appeared in your splendid glory.
Oh, what a gem you are. Your make-up and hair are elegantly done, and he thinks you're taunting him when you wore that godforsaken backless blue dress that you hauntingly paired with black pumps.
That night, he was certain you were shunning him away for whatever reason you have... and he's going to uncover you.
Jungwon was basically a walking thundercloud in there, but thankfully, the celebration and proposal went on without a hitch.
It was an enchanting scenario, the way Yeonjun dropped on one knee, professing a lifetime of a home filled with happiness and prosperity. It made you tear up, especially when his girlfriend said yes, their genuine smiles and love touching you to no end.
Then a minute speech ensued, the couple appreciating everyone who was with them throughout their relationship, a special shout out for those who helped Yeonjun with the proposal, which included you and the name you don't wanna hear.
His girlfriend suddenly cleared her throat, announcing an unusual tradition that she wanted to do for a while now, "I know this is done during the wedding but I want to do this uniquely."
She then walked up to you, thrusting the bouquet in your hands, "I love you like you're my own sister. Y/N, I want you to be happy too, to get married someday. I know that you'll find the right man soon."
You gripped the bundle of flowers with resentment. You're drowning in the flood of doubts but you still managed to thank her with a small smile. She merely gave you a cheeky wink, returning to her former spot and throwing herself in your brother's arms.
The gathering continued, visitors dancing, eating and drinking while you stood there at the side, contemplating whether to join in on the fun or be the kill joy of the day.
A rookie mistake that you did though was when you looked up, directly staring into the chocolate orbs of the man that you recently gave your purity to, only for him to drop it on the floor to watch it shatter into pieces.
You hated yourself for giving in, but you hated it more when your heart rate sped up at the meager eye contact with him. You hated the fact that the world seemed to cease its rotation when you're hit with the reality that you're in his presence. 
Your vision might have gone bad because how come that he's the only thing that you could emphasize on while the others are nothing but bleary images.
This is incorrect, an imprecision. it made you sick to your stomach when his dimples revealed themselves, much so when you were compelled to kiss it.
You had to get out of here and take a breather.
Thus, you find yourself standing in front of a pond, back in some alley in the garden. Good thing that the venue is spacious, having this kind of area as a getaway car from the rambunctious spell that the gods have cast upon you.
"You should join a marathon for being such a good runner." a sarcastic voice had your body stone cold, anxiety enveloping your whole being at the looming adversary that you have to face.
"Thank you for the advice that I won't engage in." you tried to sound strong, but your voice box failed you when your sentence came out meek and shaky.
Jungwon chortled at the ridiculousness of the situation. He finds it funny how the progress went from 0 to 100 then back to 0.
"What are you laughing about?" you lifted an eyebrow, cautiously peering at his abrupt change in mood.
"You." he mutters, gnashing his teeth while he eyed you incredulously, "You're a whole circus, from giving me false hope to stepping all over my heart. Real clown right here."
That made you scoff, bewildered at his rude attitude, accusing you of these things when in your perspective, he was the one playing games all along.
"Aren't you aware that you are the embodiment of a personified clown?" you're an erupting volcano, and you couldn't hold it back anymore, "I trusted you! Then I wake up in the middle of the night, see a text message on your phone from an unknown number saying that your baby misses you."
Jungwon opened his mouth to speak, but no, you weren't done yet. This film is something you have seen before, except tonight, it's not through a cowardly text message, you'll say it directly to him.
"Were your feelings truly genuine or you just weren't patient enough? Did you really love me or were you in love with the thought of having someone kiss you during your darkest nights, or having someone hold you during your coldest days? The chances that weren't given to you, you only chose me for that, right? Successfully distracting your heart that wasn't meant to take a risk."
A moment of silence. Then Jungwon gave you a bittersweet smile, turning around so you're now facing his back.
"Mrs. Shin asked me if I was lying to her about us not being together. She said that the way I looked at you was comparable to a devotee, like you are the reason for my being."
What? What is he talking about?
"When you were doting on Sunoo, you recall that kid back at the mall? Yeah him, I had this epiphany of you being my wife, the mother of my children."
This isn't the answer that you've been looking for, but it has you stunned to the core.
"That flower guy was annoying. His dimples got me jealous, got me carried away. When you acted as my girlfriend to fend off that presenter, I wished it was true. Then I couldn't shake the butterflies in my stomach when I put that ring on you. And during the fateful night, I really thought we had something going on there."
Jungwon's shoulder shook, his head moving upwards as an attempt to dry the moisture away. If this is how it's ending, then he'd let you go. But not after spilling his endless rumination and sentiments for you.
When you broke up with him, it felt like he was dying. He was an empty shell without you. He hated you for not giving him the chance to explain himself, but he hated himself more when he gave up and moved away to cover up his wounds.
Then he saw an opportunity to be with you again, and so, he begged Yeonjun to help him, but his efforts were all in vain, it seems.
"Y/N, I dreamt of you in a white gown, walking down the aisle of the red carpet. I've always prayed for you to be my endgame. But if I really don't have a chance with you anymore, then I'll bury all those dreams away."
He finished, letting the stream out, tired of holding it back. Tired of fighting a losing battle. He'll leave your life for good, heavy footsteps crackling under the pebbles. Then he stopped, "By the way, that message you saw was from my sister's new number. And the baby that was mentioned was my dog."
If there's an award for the best lunatic out there, it must be given to you. An amateur snooper that knows nothing but to misinterpret people.
You gulped and made a run for it, throwing the bouquet that you are still holding to fully embrace Jungwon from the back, burying your face in his expensive cashmere suit.
"The chance never left, Jungwon." you muttered softly, hugging him tighter to prevent him from leaving, "It never left, and it wants you to stay."
Jungwon lets out a weak laugh, "If you're doing this out of pity t-"
"No!" you cried out, because you're tired as well. Tired of hiding things from him, for foolishly keeping it all in when you could've talked it out.
You poured the stashed secrets. From the handmade paper ring that you were about to give him when you heard him in the student council room. to how you're afraid that college life might bring a fissure in your relationship, so you wanted to give him something that'll remind him of you and your love.
You told him that you cannot see a future without him, so you prematurely went into a heartbreak episode when you misunderstood his words. Every fault is a series of your insecurities and skepticism of a happy ending with him.
You confessed to him that you have always loved him, that your heart still belongs to him. You're just a plain idiot that couldn't communicate well but you swear, he's the only one that you'd choose in a room full of other men.
You spewed out promises of telling him whenever you're overthinking or overfeeling things. That you wouldn't get ahead of yourself next time, that you'd trust him more.
Your wrongdoings are not to be tolerated, but you'd do your best to make it up to him.
Jungwon finally turns around, his dried tear stains on his cheeks pains you, yet he's a sweetheart, wiping your own salty tears in lieu of his.
"The paper ring." he mumbles while bolstering your cheeks on his palms in a silly manner, pressing his forehead on yours, "Make me that paper ring again, this time give it to me."
You nod with the full intent of handing him the gift with the oath of staying by his side until you have both achieved your dreams and aspirations in life. 
Pinky promises are mainstream, adorable yes, but the best is sealing a promise with a kiss.
The buzzing noise of the party in the garden turned into white noise, the focal point is on the subject of your affection. The man who is currently kissing you under the stars. 
There is this one term that you read once, ‘Ephemeral.’
It was a pretty word, but its meaning is sorrowful. 
Yet with Jungwon, seeing the silver lining of the word is easier than studying for an exam.
The pain, arguments, hugs, kisses, and life itself is short-lived. Fleeting memories forgotten when you’re gray and old. Still, that gives you more reason to rejoice the moments as much as you can.
Besides, if Yang Jungwon is by your side, then every ephemeral will last perpetually.
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