#scar should tell him one late night

[angeart]

You say share AUs with you like that wouldn't be slightly intimidating xD

But :x AU where the Watchers steal Grian's voice (dunno why, haven't gotten that far), no talking no laughter no sound at all, and Grian acts like it's fine. It is! They have communicators! He can still talk to the hermits while X and Doc try and figure it out! Honestly he's close enough with some that facial expressions and gestures are enough to have a whole conversation sometimes. And bonus, he doesn't have to hold back his giggles when setting up a prank, Scar literally can't hear him laughing as he's tunneling under the base. .... but being in big groups is hard, he can't quip like he used to, by the time he's got a line halfway typed out the conversation moved on and the joke dies on his keyboard. (No hermit is excluding him on purpose!! Just, that's how talking flows and typing can't always keep up!) Can't hear him laugh but... can't hear him cry either.

I have nothing written, I haven't written in a loooong time, this just lives in my head. :x

-🎀

noo don't be intimidated. i'm harmless. i'm just a silly dummy. i love talking about aus and things. c'mere and share freely as much as you want! <3

OHHH mute grian! it's interesting that it also translates to any other noises. he can't cry! he can't laugh! (gathering this angst lovingly in my arms)

he can sob and nobody will hear it. he can hide and nobody will be any wiser. he— you know, he can't call for help, or call attention to himself, or even greet his friends. he can't call out scar's name, he can't say hi or bye to anyone. he needs eyes on him, or time to type and people's attention on the chat, and he doesn't always get those things.

(scar in particular forgets to check the chat, even when he's with grian. he sees him type, he just. he's a bit silly.) (grian has to make signs and meticulously place them and type on them to get scar to see any of his words, and even that has only like 50% chance of success.)

(he misses talking to scar.)

imagine cub gives him a bunch of custom horns. he means well. he tried to make some useful ones. but none of them feel like grian, or match quite what he wants to say.

his steps are still audible, but if he can't say a person's name or a greeting, he keeps accidentally sneaking up on people. he doesn't know how to alert them without it being absolutely ridiculous. they startle. mumbo especially lets out a loose comment directly after a scare, about how grian can't do that.

he doesn't mean it like that.

but maybe grian starts approaching hermits less.

[losersiren]

𝓨𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝓛𝓸𝓻𝓭

"𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝑜𝒽, 𝒾𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝑔𝓇𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓂𝑒 𝓈𝓊𝒸𝒽 𝒶 𝓅𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓈𝓊𝓇𝑒.” CW: Fem reader (she/her), possessiveness, suggestive Note: This is my first time writing something like this and posting it...go easy on me o(>< )o

The chandlers decorated the ceiling above the spacious ballroom, giving a gentle glow to the people filling said ballroom. The social season has just started to blossom, giving men and women room to court each other if one is blessed with the opportunity for such an experience. Catching the eye of a reliable suitor is quite troublesome– most of the men here do not fit any of your requirements, and if they did, they would suddenly be caught in a scandal of sorts, causing them to be an outcast. Not a good look on you or your family name.

You idly toy with the fan in your hand, your gaze sweeping over the sea of faces in the room. The task at hand feels insurmountable, and finding a suitable suitor in this town is daunting. Perhaps, you muse, debuting late was a misstep, a decision that now seems to mock you. You could always become a spinster…and ruin your reputation and lineage because you choose such an idiotic choice… regrettably it may be the easier option. 

“Pray tell why you’re glued to this corner as if you’re some wallflower,” A witty baritone voice whispers in your ear, the hairs of your neck standing upright while a cold shiver runs down your spine.

The sense of familiarity washes over you, and the resentment still lingers from years ago makes its way forward. The Earl’s son, your childhood close friend, who left you without a word after he said he’d be there for you.

What a bastard

“Have you ever heard of personal space? Or have you forgotten the amount of lectures your mother ingrained into your head on etiquette when you were just a brat?” You bite back with venom coating every word you spit out. You place your fan on your left ear.

”Ah, I see.” He steps back and gives you space. “You’ve become cold-hearted towards me since my departure overseas. I was only gone for a mere moment.” He switches his position from behind you to in front of you. He takes up your whole vision, his maturity, more evident now since the last time you saw him as a juvenile boy. It's been a few years, hasn't it? Yet he still has his teasing nature; no boarding school or amount of lectures can take that away from him. He bows a little lower than he should, his right hand to the opposite shoulder and his left arm behind his back. He looks up at you with those oh-so-regretful grey eyes. “I wholeheartedly apologize for departing overseas in such an impulsive matter without even notifying you in any way. I should’ve sent you letters and a hoard of messenger doves to accompany you”. “But I did not, and for that, my Lady, I've made a significant sin in your eyes– I do not deserve your forgiveness, but oh, if you could grant me such a pleasure.”

His voice is as quiet and soft as a starving mouse stealing food from a kitchen, careful for only your ears to pick up his pleas for forgiveness. Just as though you were a goddess punishing him, which he should be reprimanded tenfold in his eyes, who was he to abandon you without a trace? Though the situation before was entirely out of his hands, he didn’t want to go to that goddamned private school that was away from you; he fought tooth and nail not to go. Every house servant had to push and hold him down because he kept fighting; even his family members were victims of his wrath. His father, The Earl, still has fading scars from that night years ago.

He should’ve fought harder for you.

People around you start noticing; who wouldn’t? One of the most prestigious Earls of this country’s only son is bowing dishonourably low, borderline grovelling like a peasant caught stealing a measly loaf of bread. You feel eyes turning onto you, women whispering between their fans to one another, wondering in what predicament the next-in-line Earl would be for him to be embarrassingly bowing to a one-of-a-mill daughter of a viscount—a rank lower than him and a woman at that; your fan placement is not making it look better. Immediately change the position of your fan from your left ear to twirling it in your left hand, hoping he understands the situation he has put not only him but you in.

 He only smiles in return. “Stand straight; You look like a fool.” You hiss, “Do I have your forgiveness, Darling?” a scoff escapes your mouth. “That is either here or there! Be proper. Others are watching.” That doesnt deter him, nor does he care about them. “So my apology wasn't sufficient? Since you are thinking about everyone else but me.” More eyes make their way onto the pair of you, and whispers grow with the exchange of gossip. “You’re acting like a child-” He cuts you off. “Shall I go on my knees for you? I mean, I wouldn’t mind, but preferably, I would love to be in a more…secluded environment.” A smirk graces his lips at the thought. “Or shall I kiss your feet-” 

“You are a soon-to-be- Earl! Has that school taught you nothing? God, you’ve become more insufferable, I swear.” Your face feels warmer now, and embarrassment takes over you from his childish yet sincere teasing.

The young lord’s eyes fixated on you, on your lips, how your dress accentuates your already perfect self, your hands, oh, how he wishes to feel them against his. The years it's been since he saw you, he could listen to you scold him for hours on end; it doesn’t matter what you are saying. Just hearing your voice is enough. God knows it's been too long since he’s been deprived of you. He thanks his past self for sabotaging whatever male decided to even think of courting you. Though he was far away, his social standing never changed.

The lord decided by the second month he was away from you to pay his old servants to send him as much information as possible on the vermins that would try to nestle their way into your life. He would…No, he has ruined anyone who wanted to get in between you two. And he’ll keep it that way. You’ve stolen his heart since meeting him as a lad.

“So you wish for me to kneel? As you wish.” He starts to kneel; gasps can be heard. But you stop him, holding his shoulders upright; his eyes widen as you touch him.

You’re so close

“I forgive you…I forgive you…”

“I forgive you, Ambrose…”

Oh…

His name on your tongue….

His mind blanks. Has he gone to heaven? Oh, you sweet angel, you have him wrapped around your finger. And he wouldn’t want it any other way.

His smile is blinding as he stands and looks down at you.

“Then now that's settled…May I have the honour of a dance with yours truly?”

.." Or shall I beg more?"

End Notes: Fun fact (not really): I based most of this post on The Regency era, and that includes fan language! That is why I described the readers' actions with it. Placing the fan on your left ear means "I wish to get rid of you." Twirling the fan with your left hand means "We are watched." Thought that would be something fun to add (^.^)

[ohtobeleah]

Something that goes without saying is how uncertain Logan really is about sleeping in the same space as another person. Sure, he'll commit to the fun beforehand….The foreplay, the sex, the highs.

But the inevitable act of sleeping beside someone, terrifies him.

We see it in Origin, we see it in Days of Future Past. Sometimes while Logan is sleeping, his claws come out when he feels under duress. Nightmares are a common occurrence for this man, not a night goes by where he isn't waking in the dead of night to the ghost of his past.

And I'd like to think of all the Logans running around the multiverse, that the Worst!Logan has surely been through some things. He's never experienced true rest. Not until he met you.

“I'll sleep on the couch.” Its common at the beginning of whatever the dynamic between the two of you is. Logan ends up back at your cafe, or in your living-room, bathroom, kitchen or bed—but he never stays beside you for longer than a few minutes after. Not because he doesn't crave that intimacy or true human connection, but because the idea of losing you to his own mutation truly scares the ever-living fuck out of him.

But one night, you catch him off-guard. So off guard that Logan doesn't even have a counter proposal ready.

“Ill join you,” You beam, padding down the hallway with your blanket and pillow wrapped in your arms. “Somethings bothing you and with friends like me and Wade, that shits gonna come up eventually,” You ramble. As you sit beside Logan on the lounge he slept on more often than his own bed, he catches a glimpse of a few noticeable scars on your back. Scars where his claws had once accidentally taken over in an otherwise romantic moment between the two of you. “So, get talking pops.”

“Don't call me pops.” Logan sighs as he opens his body up for you to snuggle up against him. “It's nothing I can't handle, didn't anyone ever tell you not to stick your nose where it doesn't belong?”

“Are you trying to tell me that I don't belong here?” You counter quickly, playing Logan’s logic against himself. “Me? Resident of this timeline? Doesn't belong right here next to you?”

“Go fuck yourself,” Logan smiles all the while trying to keep his brooding man mask on. But with you he feels ever atom of his being igniting with desire and unconditional love. “I worry I'll hurt you, while I'm sleeping,” Logan explains as you listen to his heartbeat inside his chest. Snuggled on the lounge in your apartment. “You don't know how much that thought terrifies me.”

“Hmm,” You hum in response. “Perhaps the question you should be asking yourself Lo, is what if the nightmares, what if the fear stops, when you allow yourself to rest with someone you love?” It was a bold word to use, and even though it was rarely, if ever used, there wasn't another word in the English language to describe how Logan felt about you. Or how you felt about him.

And its a thought that's never crossed Logans mind before. He frowns, thinking it over in the late-night silence. You fall asleep there, right with your head on Logans chest as he tru thinks.

Only to wake up in a tangled mess of sheets, with Logan snorning next to you as the early morning sun kisses his golden, aging skin. Its the first night in years he hasn't woken in screaming terror.

“Tell me told you so and I'll turn you into a skewer.” Logan mumbles as you pepper him with kisses across his exposed back.

“I think I'll take my chances with you, Lo,” You chuckle to yourself. “I'll make you some coffee.”

@a-reader-and-a-writer Canon Ilya universe content

Ilya

[malereadermaniac]

Smug and Rough ~ Wriothesley x Male Reader

His Grace has taken a liking to you - personally inviting you to his office gets thoughts rushing through your head Top!Wriothesley x Bottom!Reader Word count: 3.6k Nsfw / MDNI ~ amab m!reader / FDNI

It was common knowledge around the Fortress that The Duke had his favourites; however some people had noticed that you were placed at an even higher esteem by his grace than even the renowned Traveler and Paimon. Every single time that Wriothesley would walk into a room he would scan for you, and if your eyes met his, The Duke would ensure to greet you by name - something that other inhabitants of the Fortress had never experienced. Moments of small talk were frequent between you and the handsome man, along with being given small benefits, such as finishing your work day early, seemingly for no reason - however, unlike yourself, those around you quickly realised that rather than randomly being taken a liking to, The Duke was flirting with you instead...

You were shockingly oblivious to this however, which is fair as why would THEE Duke flirt with some petty criminal? But c'mon, it was so evident that Wriothesley was pulling out all the tricks in the bag to try to woo you! Small talk with him was always full of compliments on your looks or work ethic being thrown your way, and the body language between you two was straight out of a romance book; the taller man placing a strong hand on your shoulder and giving you the sexiest smile ever while telling you 'Your hands are too soft n pretty to be workin' for so long, take the rest of the day of'. Eventually, you had noticed the handsome man's advances, but you chose to ignore them, justifying Wriothesley's actions by way of you being delusional after catching feelings for The charming Duke; and how couldn't you of caught those feelings, this man's the whole package! Not only is Wriothesley physically attractive (with his taller, broader figure, masculine, veiny hands, muscular body and smug, sexy attitude and what not) but this man is THEE DUKE! Wriothesley is a powerful man (and he sure acts it), he owns a prison and has all these people act like submissive bitches around him, he gets paid a hefty sum and has his own building - how could you not get the hots for him!?!? But you kept those feelings inside, following your better judgment to keep them for lonely moments late at night, inside your quarters and in the comfort of your own bed...

That was until you were called to his grace's office one night. Standing in front of his office door, you feel tiny; the massive door daunting as thoughts rush through your head about what this 'meeting' could be about, are you in deep shit?! KNOCK KNOCK. You didn't mean for it to be so loud, but judging from the muffled 'Come on in!' it didn't seem too loud on the receiving end. After pushing open the door, you make your way inside of The Duke's office - noticing its size is smaller than how the outside of the building makes it seem - your eyes immediately look towards Wriothesley, who is sitting at his desk, writing on some paper. The striking man merely spares you a glance, however, once he computes that it's you inside of his office, The Duke stands up from his desk right-away and gives you a smile. "(Y/n)! Welcome to my humble office, I'm honoured" The Duke says with a wide smile as he walks around to the front of his desk and leans against it. "I should be the honoured one, Your Grace" you say with a small, nervous smile - not only is his social stature making you nervous, but his rolled sleeves showing off his muscles and scars, and his sharp-featured face are too. "Heh... I suppose so, you look rather nice tonight - as always" Wriothesley compliments, his words shooting you in the heart with Cupid's arrow, making your face feel hot. The Duke looked incredible tonight, the lighting of his office showing off every strand of his dark hair, his white streaks shining and accentuating his attractive hairstyle. The ravenette's masculine body was just barely on display for you, his rolled sleeves teasing you with His Grace's muscular arms, and his gloves having been removed for the night ensured that you could get an eyeful of Wriothesley's rough, veiny, and large hands; The Duke's body language was also incredibly attractive, his leaning figure and sexy smirk as you ramble about your day after being asked was making your brain short circuit, and damn his nonchalant and attractive voice was what really made the blood rush to your head(s)!

After talking for a little while, once the current conversation was coming to a close, you decided to fill the comfortable (yet nerve-racking) silence with the question that has been on your mind all day. "Pardon my abruptness, Your Grace, but may I ask why I've been called to your office tonight?" You ask, sounding very prim and proper as to feel somehow on The Duke's level "Surely you couldn't be that oblivious? With the way i look at you? And the special attention I give you? Haha" Wriothesley chuckles to himself, finding your innocence and oblivious nature cute and amusing. And after a moment of silence from you, within which you gave an even more endearing confused look to The Duke, he decided to clear things up for you. "Come here and I'll let you in on a secret, (Y/N)" Fuck, you liked to hear your name come out of his mouth; Wriothesley sure knows how to get you to listen, cause you were following him like a puppy. With Wriothesley back in his chair, you stood in front of him, his knees on either side of your legs as you look down expectantly at the handsome man, who looks up right back at you with a sexy smile and a glimmer in his eyes. "I have a crush on you~" Wriothesley says in a lowered voice, dragging out the 'you' to comedically sound like a schoolgirl confessing her love. "Hmph.. That's not funny, Your Grace-" you mumble, your heart-panging from the idea of the man you kinda have a thing for making a joke about that . You tried to move away from The Duke, however his large, sexy hand on your waist and the other holding your hand as he looked up at you prevented you from doing so "Stop calling me that. You can save that for the bedroom if you'd like, I'm not one to judge, but call me Wriothesley, darling" Your mouth went slightly agape at his interruption, your heart-rate increasing at the mere idea of Wriothesley reciprocating your feelings. "And I'm not joking, I've waited for this moment since the day I first met you... properly at least hah" The Duke chuckles, a smile still on his face as he brings your body closer to his, his head now resting against your abdomen as he looks up at you - FUCK HE LOOKS SO HOT! "Well... then I suppose the feeling's mutual..." you say with a chuckle, your head turning away from The Duke's as a warm heat fills your face. A wide smile makes its way onto Wriothesley's face at your response, his heart racing at the idea of finally being able to be with you after a long time of yearning and quiet pining. "Then I assume we should confirm our relationship in one way or another, don't you, my darling?" Wriothesley says with a sexy grin on his face as he removes his head from your body and instead maneuvers you to sit on his lap; manhandling you with absolute ease.

At least half an hour had gone by, that time having been spent with you on Wriothesley's lap; his strong arms wrapped around your waist, not only making sure you can't leave, but also holding your chest against his with the perfect tightness. Your crotch slowly grinding against The Duke's as your sounds of pleasure are eaten up by Wriothesley, whose lips were sealed against yours, his tongue swirling around your own and exploring your warm mouth as you both eat up each other's moans, groans, and whimpers of pleasure; courtesy of your dryhumping. Your fingers threaded through the taller man's locks as you kept your arms around his neck for support, and more soft, breathy moans escaped your lips when Wriothesley unraveled his muscular arms from your waist and moved his huge hands to grip and play with your ass. To prevent literally suffocating, your pushed your hands against The Duke's (fucking huge) chest in order to break the kiss; a thick string of saliva keeping your now plumped lips from Wriothesley's - the look on your panting, blushed face turning the man on, and the horny, hungry, panting look on Wriothesley's face turning you on. "Ha... Ha... Wanna take this... Ha.... to my quarters?" The disheveled man proposes, his hair ruined from your fingers and sticking to his sweaty forehead "Damn right I do~" You manage to get out, your lungs still searing with a desperation for oxygen. With that, Wriothesley stood up from his chair, his hands still on your ass to hold you up; your arms darting back around his neck as your legs do the same to his slutty little waist. The muscular man made his way to a door in his office and kicked the door open, locking it behind him after putting you down; now the smaller office makes sense, this man has A WHOLE BEDROOM INSIDE OF IT!

You take the opportunity to look around his room while Wriothesley locks the door - the last thing the man wants is his assistant or Sigewinne walking in. It was a nice room, simple; a couple of decorations hung up on walls, a window with documents on the sill, a king sized bed with fresh sheets, and two nightstands with some random items on them like a picture frame, a Kamera, and some books. Your brief observation of Wriothesley's room was quickly interrupted by the man himself, a brief mumble of the word 'nosy' escaping his lips as his arms envelope you once more and his lips return to their rightful place; on yours. You can feel your heart beat like crazy as blood rushes to all parts of your body, Wriothesley moving the two of you to his bed as he continually makes out with you; the two of you ending up on his bed very quickly, with you laying on your back and Wriothesley hovering over you, still kissing you. The man above you hastily removes your clothing, kissing down your body with every article of clothing he takes off of you, leaving small marks to cover and claim your body as his. Eventually, you are left completely naked below The Duke, his gaze roaming your body as he hovers above you, simply admiring you - and once he's had his fill, Wriothesley sits up on his knees above you and strips his own body of clothing, practically giving you a little show as he removes his top first to reveal his KILLER body, and then removes all else to finally show off his monster of a cock. "Heh... Like what ya' see, pretty boy?" Wriothesley says in a smug tone, giving you a sharp smirk as he looks down at you drooling over his veiny, thick, 7inch dick, as well as his rock hard 6-pack and plump pecs.

Preparing you didn't seem to take long, the two of you enjoyed every second of it so it probably took longer to loosen your hole than it felt like. Wriothesley couldn't take his eyes off of your hole, the way it tightened around his thick fingers and winked at him making his dick twitch - and you were a hot mess, moaning like a pornstar and moving your limbs uncontrollably on Wrio's bed due to his long, thick fingers fucking your hole loose and curling into your prostate. But the real fun started when Wriothesley knelt on his bed between your spread legs and placed one on each of his thick, muscular thighs; positioning his girthy dick at your hole. Starting slow, Wriothesley thrusts his dick in and out of your tight hole, his sexy voice groaning from the feeling of your warm, gummy walls around his dick; on the other hand, below the handsome man, you're moaning in rhythm with Wriothesley's thrusts, breathy whines and moans of The Duke's name escaping your throat every time his slightly curved cock pushes against your prostate. Once the desperation caught up to Wriothesley's however, things took a turn, his pace increasing in speed and in roughness as the muscular man grips your thighs with his strong hands and starts drilling his dick in and out of you, forcing your back to arch up off of the bed from the pleasure from your ass. As Wriothesley's cock pounded its shape into your hole more and more, you lost more and more control over your body; the pleasure The Duke was providing you with making your writhe in pleasure on his bed, gripping at the sheets and rolling your entire head back onto the bed, letting Wrio only see your jaw and tongue hanging out of your mouth, a view which only turned the man on more. Pleanty of praise and compliments fell out of The Duke's mouth, calling you good and pretty and tight, moaning your name out like a mantra as Wrio's thrusts became borderline sadistic, his cockhead pounding against your prostate with every thrust, milking you of precum. As the two of you kept fucking, your moans became louder and sluttier, turning Wriothesley on more and more; the view below him, of your back arched, limbs twisting, tongue hanging out, dick twitching just added on to Wrio's aching desperation for you - so much so that the man felt inclined to ensure he never forgets this moment. In the heat of the moment, Wriothesley found himself grabbing the Kamera on his nightstand and holding it out to take a selfie from above, snapping a sexy picture of his dick fucking your ass like crazy with you writhing like a bitch in heat, a condom packet in his mouth for an artistic touch (this man is so extra). You couldn't even register what was happening, your focus being on the fact that Wriothesley stopped fucking you in order to look at the freshly printed picture, so, you whine about it "Wriothesley..~ Put that down and keep makin' love t'meee" you say in a tone resembling a drunkard - which you may as well of been, Wriothesley getting you cockdrunk on his veiny dick. And this man wasn't going to say no to you - especially after being denied this pleasure for so, so long... The Duke had covered many different positions with you, having fucked you silly in doggy (with your back nearly breaking from arching down to the bed as Wrio held your arms back, shoving your face into the bed) and even fucking you in missionary for a romantic little break. Your ass was in plenty of pain after a solid 45 minuets of fucking, having been stretched out from Wrio's monster cock, your lungs were out of breath and your poor dick had been milked for all it was worth, small droplets of cum leaking out of your tip with every single one of Wriothesley's vigorous thrusts - you had already came, Wriothesley had not... HEY! This man is real good at sex, of course you'd orgasm before him!

But once the two of you had finally finished up, you both basked in the after glow; Wriothesley more so, who was feeling euphoric after shooting his thick load inside of your tight walls, you on the other hand were more so basking in the freedom from overstimulation... You were both laying on Wrio's bed, catching your breathes and cuddling - Wriothesley's big arm around your waist as his bare chest rested alongside your back. "So then... How would you rate your experience?" Wriothesley asks, a smile on his lips as he still feels happy tingles all over his body, his eyes roaming over your naked, marked up body "A one... My ass fuckin' hurts so bad!" You remark, the pain in your ass coming to the forefront of your brain now that all the pleasure had dissipated "Aww~ does that mean my dick is big?" Wriothesley teases you, his dick already starting to harden again from the thought of him overwhelming you with his size "Shut up... you were real rough too, not that I hated it" You mumble, but in the comfortable silence of Wriothesley's bedroom, he could hear every word of yours "Yeah? Let's go again then, promise I'll be gentle this time, pretty boy~" The now raw, and rugged man chuckles from his remark, his arm now removed from your waist and his hand now instead spreading your cheeks and his masculine fingers gently playing with your rim, his cum leaking out slowly "I'll even use my tongue if you want" The man adds, the horny thought coming to him straight from his now fully re-hardened dick You couldn't deny the fact that his suggestion definitly sounded apealing - and that's how the two of you ended up going for another, more chill round of oral! In order to let you recover, Wriothesley stuck to his word and ate you out. This man made you all comfortable in his bed, put hundreds of pillows behind your neck and back, he laid between your legs and went to fucking TOWN. Your fingers were tightly pulling on the man's fluffy hair as Wrio lapped at your loose hole, shoving his tongue inside and pushing the warm, wet muscle against your walls as his thumb rubbed your rim gently, his other hand either spreading your cheeks for easier access or jerking off your dick. To say you were back to a moaning mess would be an understatement; you were in so much pleasure, Wriothesley can really use his damn tongue! This man didn't even give two shits that he could still taste himself inside of you, he just used his spunk as lube to get his tongue inside of your hole easier! As your moans of his name became louder and breathier, and your dick twitched in The Duke's rough hand, Wriothesley knew you were just about to cum once more - so this man took his hand from your spreading your cheeks and rubbed your underthigh soothingly, working you through your orgasm as his tongue assaulted your prostate and his veiny hand gently jerked you off. With a loud, lewd slurp of his spit, Wrio sat up from your tasty hole and looked as you in your afterglow-ish state - his hair messy and his chin covered in his spit n cum "Ha... You enjoy that... Ha.. Sweet-thing?~" Wriothesley mumbles, his voice dripping in sex and smug. "Ha.... fuck yeah... I did" you say in between laboured breathes "Care toooo... Repay the favour?" The handsome man says with a chuckle as he holds his massive dick at the base and swings it around.

The sounds echoing around the room were even more obscene and filthy than before. You were positioned on your knees on the floor, at the foot of Wriothesley's bed, The Duke sitting on the edge of his bed with his fat cock shoved inside of your throat. You pleasantly surprised the tall man with your oral skills, being able to take a dick like his was not exactly easy as pie, but you sure made it work! What you couldn't take your hands would work on, and what was in your mouth felt heaven on earth, your mouth warm, wet, and slimy as your tongue bathed and cleaned Wrio's dick - his leftover cum from early along with his natural musk tasting salty yet so fucking addictive. Loud slurps echoed from your mouth as your spit trickled down The Duke's girthy cock, down his veins and covering his thick, scarcely pubed balls which were resting against your chin (in-turn covering your chin in spit n leftover cum). The other lewd sounds harmonising with your own were from Wriothesley himself, groans of pleasure and moans of your name ringing pleasurably inside of your ears as Wrio's fingers tightly held your hair, making you look even more disheveled and slutty as you gagged on Wriothesley's shaft. Eventually, you felt a warm stream of thick jizz shoot inside of your mouth, Wriothesley moaning above you as his naked body shined from his sweat and the lighting of the room; he looked fucking godly. And as the panting, blissful-looking man held your head up with his hand, he pulled his fat cock out of your mouth; Wrio ensured that you didn't swallow yet, wanting to see his cum in your mouth, holding your face up to look him in the eyes while you struggled to keep his thick cum from falling out of your mouth. SNAP another picture taken with his Kamera, this time of you on your knees, his finger forcing you to 'smile' as his thick spunk coveres your teeth, lips and tongue; his hairy thighs n feet, as well as half of his semi-hard dick making a cameo alongside you. The kinky Duke grins and chuckles as he looks at the freshly printed picture, then looks back at you; who still has his cum in your mouth. "I suppose this makes us official now, huh?" Wriothesley says with a grin, squishing your cheeks with his rough thumb and other fingers to make you swallow. You grimace physically at the feeling and taste, but give him a breathy 'yeah... If you want I guess', teasing the handsome man above you.

[sinful-mind-joyful-thoughts]

𝙵𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚎 𝙼𝚎 𝙰 𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛

⤷ Credits: Pinterest

Marcus Acacius x F!reader | WC : 2.1k | Proof read : NO

Summary : The night before a battle, General Acacius has something to tell the blacksmith's daughter.

Warnings: SMUT, LOSS OF VIRGINITY, unprotected pinv (wrap it before you tap it), masturbation F and M, implied age gap, scars, breeding kink

A/n : I wrote this in like an hour so...enjoy my horny Roman general smut with a touch of lovely dovey bc ovulation, Also I'm very dyslexic lol

The needs of any general are important, and yet your father handles the most critical element of all: crafting the armor and swords meant for battle. Among all your father's customers, General Acacius was your favorite. Alluring and tempting, he was a force of nature, and he knew it. He almost never lost a fight. If your father knew about your infatuation, he might just muster the strength to overpower the general himself.

But that didn't stop the glances. You dreamed and prayed to the goddess Venus that he would take you as his wife or even a whore.

You helped your father polish the swords and armor for the men. This week, another battle of the gladiators loomed on the horizon. It was late, the night sky high above as you rubbed polish along a chest plate. The sound of an approaching horse made you stand tall. It was a single horse, a white steed adorned with armor you knew all too well. It galloped up to where you were, at the part of the blacksmith's forge that was outside. The firelight illuminated his face as he spoke.

"Evening, fair one," General Acacius said, his voice as smooth and commanding as ever. He dismounted, his gaze never leaving you. "Is your father about?"

You shook your head, your heart pounding in your chest. "He has retired for the night, General."

Acacius stepped closer, the flickering flames casting shadows on his chiseled features. "Then it is fortunate that I find you here. I have something important to discuss."

You swallowed hard, the anticipation building within you. "What is it, General?"

He looked down, his expression softening. "Tomorrow, I march into battle. A battle that carries great risk. And I cannot go without first telling you what is in my heart."

Your breath caught in your throat. "General, I—"

He raised a hand, silencing you gently. "No titles now, please. Call me Marcus."

"Marcus," you whispered, the name feeling strange and intimate on your lips.

He stepped even closer, so close you could feel the warmth of his body, smell the faint scent of leather and steel. "For too long, I have admired you from afar. Your beauty, your spirit, your kindness. You have captured my heart, and I can no longer keep it hidden."

You felt your cheeks flush, a mixture of disbelief and overwhelming emotion flooding through you. "Marcus, I... I never thought..."

"I know," he interrupted softly. "And I do not ask for an answer now. I only ask that you know the truth. Should I fall in battle tomorrow, I want you to know that I love you. With all that I am, I love you."

Tears welled in your eyes as you reached out to touch his hand. "Marcus, please come back to me."

He brought your hand to his lips, kissing it tenderly. "I will fight with all my strength, for you give me reason to survive. But if fate decrees otherwise, remember my words and hold them close."

As he turned to leave, you called out to him, your voice trembling. "Marcus, I love you too."

He paused, looking back at you with a fierce determination in his eyes. "Then I shall return. For nothing, not even the gods themselves, can keep me from you."

Marcus closed the distance between you, his eyes darkening with an intensity that made your heart race. He reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek before pulling you into a deep, passionate kiss. His lips were firm and demanding, yet tender as if savoring every moment. You melted into his embrace, the world around you fading into nothingness.

When he finally pulled away, his eyes were ablaze with desire. "Come with me," he whispered, his voice husky and commanding. "We do not have much time."

Without waiting for a response, he took your hand and led you away from the forge, his grip strong and unwavering. You followed him through the shadows, the moonlight casting an ethereal glow on the path ahead. The air was thick with anticipation and the promise of what was to come.

He guided you to the far side of the property, where the cattle were kept. The soft sounds of the animals settling for the night filled the air, creating a backdrop of calm amid the storm of your emotions. Marcus led you into a small, secluded barn, the scent of hay and earth surrounding you.

Inside, the dim light revealed a space both intimate and hidden from prying eyes. Marcus turned to you, his expression a mix of determination and vulnerability. "I have waited too long for this moment," he said, his voice low and fervent. "I need you, here and now."

You nodded, your own desire mirroring his. "Then take me, Marcus. I am yours."

He pulled you into a passionate kiss, his lips firm and demanding. His hands slipped under the shoulders of your gown, letting the fabric dip. You gasped, the cool night air grazing your exposed skin. He looked at you intently, his brow furrowed with concern.

"Have you been taken?" he asked, his voice low and husky.

"I'm no stranger to my own touch," you admitted, feeling small and vulnerable under his gaze, "but to a man?" You shook your head, your heart pounding.

A flicker of something dark and primal flashed in his eyes. He pulled your dress down the rest of the way, letting it fall into the hay scattered across the barn floor. You instinctively moved to cover yourself, but he was quicker. His hands were on your sides, warm and possessive. He kissed you once more, his hands moving upwards, palming your breasts as he began to kiss your neck. You gasped, planting your hands against his armor.

"Marcus," you breathed.

He stopped kissing you and gently patted your shoulder, a silent command to lie down in the hay. The loud clang of his armor hitting the ground sent a jolt of excitement through you. He stripped off his underclothes, revealing himself to you. Immediately, you jumped to your knees, meeting him on the ground. You looked at his body in shock and awe, the scars scattered across his muscular frame telling stories of battles fought and won.

Worry etched your brow as you reached out to trace the outline of his muscles and scars, getting lost in the feeling of his skin under your fingertips. He lifted your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze.

"They're healed," he murmured, his voice tender. "I feel no pain."

 He caressed your cheek with his thumb before pulling you in for another kiss, cradling your head as he laid you back down. “Touch yourself,” he commanded softly, his eyes dark and hungry.

Your eyes widened at his request, but the slight smile on his lips and the warmth in his eyes gave you the courage to comply. You brought one hand to your clit, using slow circles to work yourself up, while the other hand roamed your body, seeking out the places that felt the best. You closed your eyes, small moans escaping your lips.

You frowned slightly, still concerned, but he caressed your cheek with his thumb before pulling you in for another kiss. He cradled your head as he laid you back down. "Touch yourself," he whispered, his voice a seductive command.

Your eyes widened at the suggestion. "Go on," he almost chuckled at the slight shyness you showed.

With trembling hands, you took one to your clit, using slow circles to work yourself up. Your other hand grasped your breast before roaming your body, seeking out whatever felt good in the moment. You closed your eyes, letting small moans escape your lips. You brought your hand that had been circling your clit to your mouth, opening your eyes to see what Marcus was doing.

He watched you with a hunger that made your pulse quicken. As you started sucking on two of your fingers, he stroked his length at the same speed, thick and overwhelming. Precum lined his cock, glistening in the dim light. You let your fingers out of your mouth with a pop, and he growled a low, primal sound. You spread your legs further, looking him dead in the eyes as you inserted two fingers into your wet cunt, thrusting them slowly while maintaining eye contact. Soft moans spilled from your lips, your back arching.

Marcus cracked, stopping your hand with a firm grip. You whined at the sudden stop of pleasure, but he pulled your hand from your cunt and sucked at the slick-covered fingers, savoring every bit. He released your hand with a pop, then spit into his own before rubbing it onto his cock. He leaned down, kissing your neck to distract you from any discomfort.

He rubbed his dick along your folds before pushing into you slowly. The action made you claw at his back and let out a yelp. You'd managed to put three fingers in your cunt at one point, but nothing compared to the size and mass of Marcus Acacius.

"Shh, shh, the pain will end soon," he whispered, kissing your forehead. He began to thrust into you slowly, being careful not to cause more pain. Eventually, the discomfort faded, replaced by a growing pleasure. You began to moan, and Marcus groaned, planting a hand on your hip while the other wandered up and down your body.

He bit his lip, a bead of sweat forming along his forehead, his curls sticking to his skin. His strokes became more forceful, and you started to moan louder, feeling yourself nearing the edge.

"M-more, General," you gasped for air before continuing, "more."

He growled in response, speeding up. His free hand moved to rub your clit, his thrusts harder and faster. The hay scratched at your skin, but you didn't care. Your hands gripped his forearms as you felt your pussy start to clench down on his cock. Your orgasm crashed over you with a loud moan, and Marcus continued thrusting, fucking you through your climax with sloppy, erratic movements.

With a deep moan, he spilled his hot seed inside you, filling you completely. He kissed you passionately before pulling out and collapsing beside you in the hay. You lay there together, bodies entwined, the afterglow of your shared pleasure enveloping you. The cool night air mixed with the warmth of your bodies, creating a cocoon of intimacy that made the world outside seem distant and unimportant.

Marcus turned to you, his breath still heavy, his eyes softening as they met yours. "I will return," he said, his voice a blend of steel and tenderness. "I will win this battle, and when I do, I will make you my bride."

You felt a surge of emotions, hope, and love intertwining with the remnants of your passion. "Marcus, you must be careful," you whispered, your fingers tracing the lines of his strong jaw. "I couldn't bear to lose you."

He took your hand, pressing a kiss to your palm, then your wrist, before bringing it to rest over his heart. "With you in my thoughts, I am invincible," he declared. "Every sword I raise, every enemy I face, it will be for you. The gods themselves could not keep me from your side."

You gazed into his eyes, feeling the weight of his promise settle deep within your soul. "And I will be here, waiting for you," you vowed, your voice trembling with emotion. "My heart, my body, they are yours."

He smiled a rare and beautiful thing that made your heart skip a beat. "Then it is settled," he said, his tone resolute. "I will fight with all my might, knowing that my bride awaits me."

He shifted, rising from the hay with the grace and power of the warrior he was. You watched as he dressed, every movement deliberate and filled with purpose. The sight of his scars, his muscles, the very essence of his strength, only made you more certain of the love you felt for him.

Once fully dressed, he turned back to you, offering a hand to help you rise. You took it, feeling the roughness of his skin, the strength of his grip. He pulled you close, his lips finding yours in a kiss that was both a promise and a farewell.

"I will return to you," he whispered against your lips, his breath warm and reassuring.

"And I will be waiting," you replied, your voice filled with a mixture of longing and certainty.

With one final, lingering kiss, he stepped away, mounting his white steed with the same grace and power that had always captivated you. As he rode off into the night, you watched him go, your heart swelling with pride and love.

The barn seemed empty without him, the silence heavy with the weight of his absence. But as you gathered your gown and dressed, you felt a new sense of purpose. You would prepare for his return, ready to welcome him back as your victor and your husband.

[murdrdocs]

INTERVIEW 024. HARRY POTTER murdertober oct 17th. semi-public sex

For once, the thing keeping you from leaving the office late at night isn't your own obsessions over working. 1.4k+ words MDNI 18+

You’re on a mission to make it out of the office before you change your mind and turn around. By the time you’ve packed your things up, thrown your bag over your shoulder and tucked only three documents between your torso and your arm, it’s later than it should be. Most people left as soon as the clock hit the final hour, but this problem was plaguing your mind and preying on your already poor work-life balance. So here you were, preparing to spend yet another night in the office instead of curling up on your couch and watching Muggle television. 

But you’ve started your journey. You’ve closed down your workspace for the night, tried your best to clear your mind, and you’re determined to make it downstairs without convincing yourself to do just one more piece of paperwork, since it’s usually your own obsessions, something successfully drilled in only after a couple years of working here, that keeps you in the office late at night. 

Even though your circumstances tonight are slightly different, it’s still an obsession that convinces you to turn around. This time it’s not your desire to get as much done as soon as possible that points your heels in the other direction. No, it’s the frustrated groan from one of your coworkers that prevents you from making your way downstairs and to the Floo Network. 

If it were anyone else, you would’ve kept your head down and continued walking as if you hadn’t heard. But it’s Harry, someone you didn’t have the time to interact with recently, nothing but small talk over tea breaks and coffee pots, and the occasional work question that was solved quicker than it needed to be. 

You’ve been missing him ever since that night over summer, no matter how much you try to pretend you weren't.

Still, you’re just turning around to check on a friend. That night over summer has nothing to do with what you're doing.

You peek your head behind the walls of his cubicle, gently calling his name and lightly knocking on the wall as you do. 

He hums, keeping his head down and his forehead in his hands. 

Harry lifts his head then. He spins around in his chair to face you. He has his glasses pulled off and thrown onto his desk, his hair skewed over his forehead. Before, you would’ve been able to see the infamous scar, but now it’s barely there, only a slight contrast against his pale skin. 

You try not to notice the way he’s sitting with his legs spread.

“Hey. It’s just me,” you tell him, speaking your name as if he needed more clarification. 

“Yeah. I know.” He smiles at you, the corner of his lips pulling up in a teasing manner. 

You step into the small space. “Really? What gave it away?” You’re joking, and you’re expecting him to answer the rhetorical question in a similar manner. But instead he leans his head into his hand, his elbow pressed into the arm rest as he looks up at you. 

“I know the sound of your voice … and the smell of your perfume.” 

You’re warm, embarrassingly so, but you’re here for one thing: to help a friend out. 

You change the subject. “I heard you when I was walking by. Something wrong?” 

As if reminded about the very thing causing him unrest in the beginning, Harry rolls his eyes before he slides his hands over them. 

“Honestly, what isn’t wrong at this point.” He launches into a description of his problem, beckoning you over to visually show you what has him peeved this late at night. You end up leaning over his desk, one hand pressed into the back of his chair as you let him explain everything to you. 

“I’m not sure I’m understanding, Harry.” 

“Come closer. Look.” 

You let Harry maneuver you at this point, his hand on your lower back pulling you even closer until you’re practically hovering over the desk. There’s no point in lying to yourself. You came in here for one thing, really, and you know you’re going to get it when Harry pulls you onto his lap. He pretends that he’s put you here so you can see the papers better, but his arm circling around your waist and pulling your back to his chest gives him away. 

He points at numbers and lines of text, continuing the fabricated narrative of there being some sort of problem that only you can help solve. 

But the fingers of his other hand tease the waistband of your bottoms. God, you’re so glad the two of you are the only ones in this office because Harry’s hands are on a mission and it’s impossible for you to stop him, not like you even wanted to. 

“Are you seeing the problem yet?” he asks you as he’s pushing the button of your trousers through the hole. 

He���s tugging the zipper down as you’re shaking your head. “No. I think we need to keep working on it.”

He slips his hand down the opening and singles out two fingers, sliding them down the already dampened crotch of your panties. You rock up into his hands, knocking into his crotch on the pull back. Harry starts breathing heavily just as you are, his chin resting on your shoulder so he can get a better look. 

“We might be here all night,” he claims between slow movements. Pulling your panties to the side, dipping the tips of his fingers into the slick, calluses pushing into your sensitive nerve endings. 

He takes his free hand off of your waist to pop the top buttons of your blouse open, reaching into your shirt and beneath the cup of your bra to pinch at your tits. Your head lolls back and rests against Harry’s shoulder. 

He messily swirls his fingers around your clit. It’s good but not nearly enough. There’s far too much restriction, a problem you easily solve by pushing your trousers over your ass until they reach your midthigh. You’re about to do the same for your panties, but Harry shakes his head. 

You turn your head to look at him, taking in his features as best as you can with the angle. It’s only then that you see the way he’s squinting down at your cunt, and you’re reminded of the existence of his glasses which still sit on the desk. 

You grab the frames and haphazardly place them on Harry’s face. They end up skewed, but he doesn’t take the time to fix them. He only gently thanks you with a kiss to your wrist and a soft, almost shy, “Thanks, love”. 

Harry increases the speed of his fingers until you can hear the sound. He mouths at your neck, pressing kisses into the pronounced veins while he coaxes you closer and closer to an orgasm. 

It all works for you—the slight fumble of his fingers every so often,  the clumsy way he knocks the heel of his hand into your clit, his teeth dragging against the taunt skin of the side of your neck, the prominent bulge pressed into your ass. He’s so good to you, so good at giving you exactly what you need.

When the beginning of your orgasm makes itself known deep in your stomach, almost unreachable but you know Harry will drag it up for you, you notice the almost discreet way Harry’s grinding his cock into your ass. Uncoordinated, barely receiving any friction at all, but you’re able to recognize the movements for what they are. 

You try to do your part by knocking back into him, combining the movements with swirling your hips and grinding up into Harry’s palm. 

There’s so much commotion in this tiny cubicle. At this point when considering the noise of your clothes and cunt, as well as your moans and Harry’s heavy breathing, the two of you are being incredibly loud and incredibly obvious. But it doesn’t matter. You’re almost there. 

You tell Harry, combing your nails through his hair and turning your head to nudge your nose against his. When he nods, the tip of his nose rubs against yours. 

“C’mon then,” he tells you, his breath fanning against yours. 

That’s really all you need to tip over the edge. You go still against him, everything within you tensing as you let your orgasm cascade over your form. Harry can’t do both, get himself off and guide you through the remnants. For once, he puts himself first. He manages to slide his fingertips over your clit a few times, but most of his concentration goes to pushing his cock up into you, seeking any sort of friction to get himself off. 

You rest your head back on his shoulder, lazily blinking up at the ceiling, and let Harry desperately use you to get himself off.

[lilaccmilk]

synopsis: what happens when the most powerful and feared leader, who’s known to be a lycan, visits your village, he finds himself drawn to you, the chief’s daughter. In exchange for your tribe’s protection, he seeks something far more personal—your hand in marriage.

a/n: i apologise in advance for any inaccuracies, i tried my best. plus i didn’t really expect that this would get so long.

wc: 1.3k words

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Being the strongest and the most feared leader amongst all the other tribes, had everything he needed— power, riches, respect and what not. Everything except one– a mate. And he never really put an effort to find her. Busy between winning wars and handling his tribe after his father had followed his mother into Valhalla, leaving behind a young boy to lead the tribe. But now as he drew into his late twenties, his closest friend and second in command—Ragnar suggested he should find his mate.

That was months ago, he still hadn’t ventured to find his mate. But he did have to travel to different tribes, or invite different leaders for political discussions, which usually consisted of them asking for protection from him, in return they’d give harvests, gold, fur coats, clothing. It was a fine cycle.

Right now was such another time, he found himself in a small village that settled on the banks of a dominant river. The village was beautiful, it looked like it belonged in the mystical stories his mother used to tell him when he was a child. It was almost the most beautiful thing he had seen. Almost. Until his eyes laid upon you. You seemed to embody the essence of those ancient tales—radiant and pure, as if touched by the gods themselves.

You were a healer in your village, using both herbs and magic to heal. But today the whole village was on their toes, after all the strongest leader among all tribes was visiting your village. In exchange for his protection, your village had prepared gifts for him— herbs, weapons, harvest. And on top of it all, there was supposed to be a huge feast tonight to honour him.

You had heard rumours and stories of him, how he was the strongest warrior, ruthless, most feared and a lycan. Him being a lycan was partly the reason as to why he was feared, why people always wanted to stay on the good side of him. A few tribes who had dared challenge him were quickly defeated by him.

You were by the riverside, gathering some plants that grew there for the feast tonight. You hadn’t expected him and a few members of his tribe to arrive so soon. Moreover, you hadn’t expected him to look so…..majestic. Yes, majestic was a word that could be used to describe him, despite the scar that was running across his eye. A sleek line, probably from a battle he was in, only added to his charm. When he talked to your village chief, you could see his teeth, his canines a bit pointed. His eyes were fierce. You found yourself growing shy and quickly looked away. You finished gathering the herbs and walked away.

He could feel your eyes on him, it gave his inner beast a sense of satisfaction, subconsciously he puffed out his chest, his beast growling in pride, happy to be the subject of your attention. He quickly greeted the elders of your village and the chief, growing a bit impatient, he wanted to talk to you, after what felt like an eternity, the endless exchange of pleasantries was finally over. They suggested they’d show the place where him and his men would stay for the night, but he sent Ragnar, he looked to where you were, but you were already gone. He growled in annoyance.

It was a council meet where him and his men along with the village chief and elder council were gathered to establish the conditions of the pact. All members of your village were gathered around. His eyes endlessly searched the crowd around him until they landed on you. He smirked, and whilst they offered the gifts, he interrupted the chief, ”I don’t want all that” his voice cut through the room like ice, your chief’s eyes widened, but before the chief could speak, he continued, “I want her to be my bride, to come along with me to my village as my mate.” His finger was pointed towards you. Gasps rung through the crowd, murmurs of approvals were heard. But you, it felt like you had fallen into a frozen lake in the middle of winter. But just as soon as that coldness drowsed you, warmth enveloped you when you saw his eyes soften.

He could see Ragnar smile? smirk? He couldn’t pay attention to his friend’s reaction, not when your lips parted so prettily in shock, he had this immense urge to kiss you, take your lips between his teeth, taste you. But not yet, soon.

The chief spoke up, almost relieved that the pact was still being formed, although the exchange a bit different, “Yes. Of course. She will be your bride. Come forth child.” the chief signalled you to move closer. Ever since your parents gave you away left you on the banks of the river, the chief and his wife, unable to have children of their own had taken you in. They’d always treated you like you were their own blood. Perhaps it was true, blood may run thicker than water, but the blood of the covenant was stronger than the water of the womb.

So you did as he said, coming closer to the council table. Your chief was standing with him. As you reached the man you called father all these years, you felt a weird sense of satisfaction as you looked at the man standing next to him. He took your hand and placed it into your future groom’s. He declared your betrothal to him.

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After the council meet, he had to begrudgingly let go of your hand to discuss some political matters. You hadn’t dare look into his eyes the entire time your hand was in his. As he sat down to discuss, you quickly bid your goodbye to him and your father and went to the kitchens to assist your friends in supper.

The entire time they giggled and teased you for being the first one of them all to get betrothed. You had a smile in your face as you thought back to it. It was scary too, because of the rumours. But you didn’t let them get to your head, you’d get to know the man by yourself.

After the you all were done cooking the feast, you went to wear some presentable clothes. You braided your hair in a pretty hairstyle, subconsciously trying to look prettier, ‘not like it is for him’ you muttered to yourself.

You all were gathered together, the lavish feast laid out on the huge table surrounded with chair. Two large chairs sat at head of the table. One for the village chief and one for him.

You looked around to see if he and his men had arrived. You didn’t see him anywhere so you thought you’d sit with your friends, but before you could turn around, you felt a hard chest press into your back, you were going to push them back but then you heard the voice, “Hello my love, I believe a proper conversation between us is due, is it not?” his voice rumbled and you felt yourself growing hot. “I believe so.” you replied. He hummed in satisfaction as you exchanged your names. He asked about you, the things you liked, the things you didn’t like. Then it was time for the feast to start, you started going to take your place, but you were stopped by his hand curling around your wrist. “You are not straying far from me, my mate.” And that was how you found yourself on his lap the entire evening, you could feel his chest pressing into your back with every movement he made. The night passed like a blur. You couldn’t get enough sleep the entire night.

The morning came with a promise of your new life. You bid goodbye to your loved ones, he helped you get onto his horse and sat behind you, taking the reins and caging you in between his strong arms. He nuzzled his nose into your neck and placed a chaste kiss in the junction of your neck and shoulder. The journey would take two days. You would rest at someplace in makeshift tents for a night. You both got to know each other, he told you about his tribe, his parents and what did ‘mates’ mean.

It was a pleasant journey. As you reached his tribe, the people welcomed you with utmost kindness, care and respect. They held a feast. You had a good feeling about this all, your new life, with a man who has sworn to protect you with his life, the man who claimed you the second he saw you.

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if you guys like this, i’m thinking of turning this into like a mini series or something. lemme know! id love to hear your thoughts and inputs.

stay hydrated <3

[parkerslatte]

At Last

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: mentions of scars. mentions of mild torture. injury.

Summary: Y/N reunites with Azriel after she comes back from Under the Mountain and finish a long overdue conversation.

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

•••

50 Years Ago

“Y/N, can we talk?” Azriel’s voice was strangely quiet and uneasy as he stood in the doorway, shadows restlessly moving around his frame.

Turning away from the mirror, Y/N greeted Azriel with a smile. “Of course. I’m just finishing up here. I can’t decide which earrings to wear tonight.”

“The diamond ones bring out your eyes,” Azriel said as he stepped into the room. “How long do you have?”

“I’m not sure,” Y/N said, fastening the diamond earrings to her ears. “Rhys said he’d collect me when we need to leave.”

“Right,” Azriel mumbled before looking at the dress that adorned her body. “You look beautiful.”

Y/N walked over to Azriel and placed a quick kiss on his cheek, causing a faint blush to dust his cheeks. “Thank you, Az. So what did you wish to talk about?”

Azriel slowly sat on the edge of the bed, his heart beating rapidly. “Well, I—“

Another knock at the bedroom door caught Azriel’s attention. Rhys stood there. “Y/N, we’re leaving.”

Y/N nodded as Rhys left to wait for her outside. She turned to Azriel.

“What did you want to say?” Y/N asked.

Azriel looked down at his hands. “It doesn’t matter anymore. You should leave with Rhys, you don’t want to be late.”

“No, it’s okay. Tell me now,” Y/N insisted.

“It will take too long,” Azriel said. “I will tell you when you return.”

Y/N sighed. “Fine. But it will be the very moment my feet step back in this room.”

Azriel smiled. It was small but it was there. “I promise I will tell you then.”

Y/N smiled. “I’ll see you later, Az.”

“See you later,” Azriel said.

Y/N wrapped her arms around Azriel’s shoulders and he melted into her touch. He hugged her back tightly, inhaling the scent he loved so much. If she would allow it, Azriel would pull her back into her bed and hold her to him for all of eternity. All he wanted was to be wrapped in her arms.

When Y/N pulled away, Azriel reluctantly let go and stood from the bed. She bid him goodbye and left him standing within her empty bedroom.

The bedroom would remain empty for fifty years.

Present day

Once again Azriel felt himself walking past the empty room of the female he loved more than anything else alive. It was nearly thirty years ago when Cassian finally convinced Azriel to leave her room after he slept in it night after night, praying for her to return to him. Her scent was slowly replaced with his own.

It had been years since Azriel had stepped into the room. He had gone as far as opening the door but he couldn’t bring himself to step inside anymore. He always stared at the bed where Azriel sat when he was about to confess his feelings. If only he had told her then. Perhaps he would have delayed both Y/N and Rhys enough for them to decide to stay home. Then they would both be with him, Cassian, Mor and Amren.

Azriel sighed and rubbed his eyes. As he did so, his hand caught onto the earring hanging from his ear. It was Y/N’s earring, the very ones she had taken off before she put the diamond ones in. Azriel’s ears weren’t even pierced when she was trapped, but when he could finally leave her room without tears falling down his face, he had asked Mor to pierce them for him.

Azriel touched the earring fondly and slowly inhaled.

He frowned.

That familiar scent. The scent he loved. It wafted from the room.

Azriel hadn’t smelt the scent ever since it faded from Y/N’s belongings.

With shaking hands, Azriel reached to touch the door handle and slowly pushed down. The cream emitting from it echoed down the empty hall. His heart pounded in his chest as his hope rose.

Light filtered into the hall and cast over Azriel’s face. He squinted, allowing his eyes to adjust to the intrusion. He let go of the door and allowed it to slowly open on its own until he was illuminated by light.

A figure stood in the middle of the room, arms wrapped around themselves as they stared out of the window.

Azriel’s heart stopped.

“Y/N?” His voice was small and quiet, he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing.

Y/N turned and faced Azriel. Her hair was longer and knotted as if she hadn’t styled it in weeks. There was bruises and cuts in her arms and scars wrapping around her wrists as if shackles had been there once upon a time.

Azriel took a step forward.

“Please say something if it is really you, Y/N,” Azriel whispered. “I can’t trust my own eyes at this point.”

“Az,” Y/N sobbed as tears immediately began to fall down her cheeks. “It’s really me.”

Azriel didn’t take a single moment to linger. He rushed forward and wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his head into the crook of her neck. She was solid in his arms.

“I missed you so much,” Azriel cried, allowing his tears to fall.

“I missed you too,” Y/N sobbed, clutching onto Azriel even tighter.

The feeling of her in his arms was one Azriel hadn’t felt in fifty years yet it was one he remembered in all of those lonely nights where all he could think about was Y/N.

“How are you here?” Azriel asked, gently caressing Y/N’s face as he looked at her. “Is Rhys here too?”

Y/N nodded, holding onto Azriel’s shirt tightly. “A human called Feyre helped us. She saved us all.”

Azriel wiped her tears away and rested his forehead against hers. “I can’t believe you're here. What happened?”

“Amarantha,” Y/N spat. “I’m glad that devil is dead. She kept me chained up for the first five years.”

Azriel glanced at the scars wrapping around Y/N’s wrists. He pressed a gentle kiss against them.

“She doused my food in faebane so I wouldn’t heal properly,” Y/N said.

Azriel hugged her once more. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help you.”

He felt Y/N shake her head. “I am glad you weren’t. You were safe here. You were protecting everything and everyone in the city by being here.”

“When Rhys sent that message, I was ready to follow. I was ready to march in and slaughter Amarantha myself,” Azriel confessed. “I would have done anything to get you back.”

“And Rhys,” Y/N added.

“And Rhys,” Azriel confirmed.

Y/N pulled back and studied Azriel’s face. “I was beginning to forget what you looked like. You became just a blur in my mind for the past few years.”

A single tear slipped down Azriel’s cheek and Y/N wiped it away.

“I never thought I would see you again,” Y/N continued. “The first couple of years I was expecting to leave, that someone would find a way. But then more years passed and nothing happened. More and more years passed and it was the same thing day in day out. But do you know what kept me going, Azriel? Do you know what kept me wanting to live when everything got too difficult? When Amarantha decided that I was taking up too much space and decided to beat me?”

Azriel shook his head.

A small smile tugged at Y/N’s lips. “It was you. I thought of your smile, your laugh when you think no one is listening. Your touch, your scent, your feel. I always thought about you and that conversation we never got to have. It has been on my mind for half a century. I have wondered what you wanted to talk about that night.”

“Well,” Azriel said. “We are in the room where I promised to tell you.”

Y/N rested her forehead against Azriel’s. “Then tell me. Tell me the answer to the question I never got an answer to.”

There was a small pause as Azriel laced his fingers with Y/N’s.

“That night was the night I finally found the courage to do something I was scared to do for a long time,” Azriel said. “I was scared of messing things up and the way you would react. I didn’t want to ruin whatever relationship I had with you. But it got too painful not to tell you. Seeing you everyday, looking so beautiful, it was going to slip out eventually.”

“What are you saying, Azriel?” Y/N asked.

“I am saying that I am in love with you,” Azriel confessed. “I am utterly in love with you, Y/N. I have been for centuries. These past fifty years have been torture without you.”

Y/N didn’t answer as she stared down at their linked hands. Azriel’s heart sank. .

“Listen, if you don’t return my feelings, I am not going to force you, but I need you to know. I couldn’t keep it a secret any longer,” Azriel said. “If you don’t love me, I understand. We can both move on with our lives.”

If she didn’t return his feelings, Azriel knew that he would never be able to move on. He loved her too much and he knew that it would be unfair to anyone else he fell into a bed with.

“Azriel, it’s been fifty years,” Y/N said. “And you still love me?”

Azriel nodded. “I do. My feelings have never changed or wavered even a little. I slept in your room for twenty years after you were trapped. I was a mess. I didn’t keep up with any of my duties or training. Ask Cassian, Mor or Amren.”

“You love me?” Y/N asked.

“I do,” Azriel confirmed. “You are the love of my life even if I am not the love of yours.”

Y/N slowly slipped her hands out of Azriel’s and his heart plummeted to his feet, but the moment she caressed his face, he felt it spring back up.

“You love me,” Y/N said. This time it was phrased less like a question and more like a statement. “That was what you wanted to tell me when we were in this room fifty years ago?”

Azriel nodded. He couldn’t get words out as they were caught on his tongue.

A small smile graced Y/N’s face. “I see Rhys’s prediction was correct.”

“Prediction?” Azriel questioned.

“Thirty years in, Rhys asked me about what you and I were talking about. We never saw each other much, Amarantha kept Rhys all to herself most of the time and me chained up. There was a night where I was finding everything too different and Rhys found me. He asked me about the night we left and what we were talking about. When I told him you never got to tell me, we made a small game out of it. We would guess ridiculous things as to what you wished to speak with me about. It was the only form of entertainment we had. Although now I guess not all of Rhys’s guesses were a complete joke,” Y/N explained.

“When Rhys said that you were coming to confess your undying love to me, I laughed. Because I thought that there was no way that you would be in love with me. I was so in denial that you love me back that I didn’t even consider that Rhys was correct. I thought you coming to tell me that you were somehow pregnant as a more plausible theory,” Y/N said, avoiding eye contact.

While Y/N’s right hand remained on the side of his face, she trailed her left down to link their fingers together. Azriel caressed the hand that rested on his head, pressing a soft kiss to her palm.

“I love you too, Azriel,” Y/N admitted. “It was my love for you that kept me fighting every day. Fighting to someday return to you.”

Azriel closed his eyes, savouring her touch, afraid that somehow he would wake up alone in his cold bed.

Another tear fell down his face but nothing compared to Y/N who was freely crying now.

“I love you so much, Y/N,” Azriel cried.

A sob slipped past Y/N’s lips and Azriel pulled her into him, wrapping his wings around them both, cocooning them in their own small world. His shadows softly caressed her skin and where scars littered themself on her soft flesh.

“I can’t believe I’m free,” Y/N sobbed. “I can’t believe I’m here with you.”

Azriel’s fingers tangled in her hair as he let her cry into his chest. He held her so tightly, so securely that if anything tried to take her again, Azriel would make sure that it never happened— and it never will happen again.

“Can you do something for me?” Y/N asked.

“Anything,” Azriel muttered.

“Can you kiss me?” Y/N said. “I’ve only been able to dream about what it would feel like.”

Azriel offered her a soft smile. “Anything else you want me to do.”

“Stay with me,” Y/N said. “Stay with me and never let me go.”

“My love,” Azriel said, cupping her face between his hands. “I will stay with you for eternity. I will love you for eternity. You don’t need to ask.”

Y/N smiled widely, cutting through her grief and sadness like a knife. Azriel smiled in return, offering her one of his true, genuine smiles specifically reserved for her.

As he leaned forward to connect their lips, that golden thread that connected two souls snapped into place.

[mononijikayu]

drunk tonight — ryomen sukuna.

"Yes, we can." he murmurs, his voice a soft, dominant caress that contrasts sharply with the intensity of the moment. His lips press against your jaw with a sharp, possessive kiss, and you feel your head loll against his, unable to escape the overwhelming sensations. His words are both a promise and a demand, a statement that attempts to bridge the gap between the pain and the passion you’re experiencing. "Because I love you. And you love me."

GENRE: alternate universe - modern au!;

WARNING/S: nsfw, angst, toxic romance, hurt/no comfort, break up, fighting, crying, hurt, physical touch, sexual content, sadness, pain, grief, unhappy ending, depictions of toxic relationship, depiction of grief, depiction of fighting, depiction of sexual content, depiction of loneliness, mention of grief, mention of sexual context, mention of loneliness, toxic ex-boyfriend! sukuna, long suffering ex-girlfriend! reader;

WORD COUNT: 9.4k words

NOTE: the thought bubble says "yes, we can." and "because i love you. and you love me."; i wrote this a while back but i was waiting for the poll to end. but if sukuna wins, then he definitely has his stuff posted first. somehow, sukuna always wins my polls 😆😆😆 anyway, i hope you love this one too!!! i love you all 🫶🫶🫶

masterlist

if you want to, tip! <3

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YOU DON’T WANT TO ANSWER THE PHONE. Late at night, your phone buzzes, its vibration cutting through the silence like a knife. You glance at the screen, feeling a chill run down your spine as you recognize the number. It’s a number you know all too well, one that you’ve tried to erase from your mind but could never quite forget, no matter how hard you tried.

A sigh escapes your lips, your heart sinking as Sukuna’s name flashes across the screen. It’s a name that once brought you comfort, excitement, even love. But now, it’s just a reminder of everything that went wrong, of the hurt and the scars that never fully healed.

You’ve blocked him on everything—social media, messaging apps, even email. You thought you had cut off every possible avenue for him to reach you, but he always remembered your phone number. 

He was always good at that—memorizing details, knowing exactly how to reach you when you least wanted him to. It was one of the things that drew you to him in the first place, his ability to know you so well, to be so in tune with you. But now, it’s a curse, a reminder that no matter how far you try to run, he can always find you.

The text is a mess of jumbled letters and half-formed words, the kind of message that only makes sense to the sender. You can almost hear his deep, slurred voice in your head as you read it, the way he used to talk when he was too far gone, too deep into the bottle. He’s drunk, that much is obvious, and the thought makes your stomach churn.

You roll your eyes, frustration bubbling up inside you. There’s nothing worse than a drunk ex-text. It’s a toxic mix of emotions—regret, anger, longing—all wrapped up in a few poorly typed words. You know how this goes, how the night will unravel if you let it. 

He’ll keep texting, maybe even call, and each message will be more desperate, more incoherent than the last. He’ll say things he doesn’t mean, make promises he can’t keep, and you’ll be left holding the pieces of a conversation that never should have happened.

For a moment, you consider ignoring it, just turning off your phone and pretending you never saw it. But you know that won’t make it go away. You know that as long as Sukuna has your number, as long as he has a way to reach you, this cycle will keep repeating itself.

You take a deep breath, your fingers hovering over the screen. You could respond, tell him to stop, to leave you alone once and for all. But part of you knows that won’t work either. You’ve told him before, and yet here you are, staring at another late-night message from the man you once loved.

Your thumb hovers over the message, the words blurring in your tired eyes. You want to be strong, to resist the pull of old emotions and familiar patterns. But there’s a part of you that’s still connected to him, a part that wants to reach out, to understand why he can’t just let you go.

But you know better. You’ve been down this road too many times before. And as much as it hurts, as much as it feels like tearing a piece of your heart out, you know what you have to do. With a sigh, you delete the message, your chest tightening as you do. You close your eyes, trying to block out the guilt, the sadness, the tiny voice in your head that says maybe this time will be different. But you know it won’t. It never is.

You can’t even muster the energy to be angry. It’s all too familiar, the cycle of hurt and regret that you both keep getting sucked into. You start typing back, your fingers trembling slightly with the weight of it all.

“Sukuna, stop. Wherever you are, just stop.” You hesitate, your thumb hovering over the screen. But you need to say this—you need to finally put it to rest. “This hurts, all of it. It’s a mess, and we’ve broken up. You need to stop chasing after me. We can’t go back.”

There’s a long pause. You wonder if he’ll leave it at that, but another text pings through.

“I can’t… I can’t live with this without trying. Please…”

You swallow hard, feeling the ache in your chest, but you’ve made up your mind. This is a wound that needs to heal, and reopening it will only make it worse.

“Sukuna, I’m done. You need to be, too.” You send the message, and this time, you turn off your phone. The silence that follows is almost deafening, but it’s the first step towards finally moving on.

You purse your lips, staring at the screen as his last message burns into your mind. You know he’s just too drunk tonight. He doesn’t really want you back—not the way he thinks he does. He’s just broken inside, sad and high, and you can feel the weight of his loneliness pressing through the words.

A lump forms in your throat as the urge to cry wells up again. It hurts because deep down, you know the truth. He doesn’t want you back. He’s just lonely, aching for something familiar to fill the void. You’ve been there before, reaching out in desperation, hoping for comfort in the arms of someone who used to mean everything. But that was then, and this is now.

You type slowly, forcing yourself to keep going, even though each word feels like a knife twisting deeper into your heart. "Sukuna, you’re not really after me. You’re just lonely and sad, and I get that. But this… us… it’s over. We ended things for a reason."

Your fingers hesitate over the next part, but you push through the pain. "We hurt each other too much. I didn’t want to be with you anymore because all we did was tear each other apart. And I don’t want that for either of us."

You take a shaky breath, knowing what you need to say, even if it feels like ripping off a bandage from a wound that hasn’t fully healed. "So put down the phone, Sukuna. It’s time to go home. You’re just drunk tonight.”

You hit send, and the tears that you’ve been holding back finally spill over. You’ve been strong for so long, but tonight, in the quiet of your room, you allow yourself to feel the full weight of everything you’ve lost and everything you’ve chosen to leave behind.

You ended things because you knew it was the right thing to do, but that doesn’t make it any easier. And even though you’re telling him to move on, a part of you is whispering the same words to yourself. It’s time to let go, for real this time. It’s time to heal, even if that means facing the pain head-on and accepting that some things can never be fixed.

Your phone rings, and your heart sinks as you see his name flashing across the screen. You hesitate, your thumb hovering over the decline button. You know you shouldn’t answer, know that nothing good can come from this. But some part of you—maybe out of concern, maybe out of habit—hits the green button.

“Sukuna, don’t—”

“I’m on my way.” he interrupts, his voice slurred but filled with a determination that chills you. “I need to see you. We need to talk.”

Your stomach drops, and a sense of dread washes over you. “No, Sukuna. Don’t do this. You’re not thinking straight.”

There’s a pause on the other end, a brief silence where you can hear him breathing heavily, as if he’s fighting to keep his composure. “I have to see you.” he repeats, softer this time, almost pleading. “Please. I…..I want to see you. I wanna…I wanna be with you.”

“Sukuna, please.” you say, your voice trembling. “You’re drunk, you’re not yourself. Turn around and go home. You’re only going to make this harder—for both of us.”

“I don’t care.” he snaps, and you can hear the desperation creeping into his voice. A desperation that’s never been there before. “I can’t keep living like this, pretending I don’t need you. I’ll be there soon.”

Panic starts to set in. You feel trapped, knowing that no amount of reasoning will get through to him tonight. “Sukuna, if you show up here, I won’t open the door. I mean it.”

There’s a harsh laugh on the other end. “You will. You always do.”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut because they’re true, or at least they were. You can’t deny the history between you two, the countless times you’ve stood at the edge of this same precipice, teetering between resolve and surrender. 

How many times had you given in, opened the door, and let him back into your life, even when every fiber of your being screamed that you shouldn’t? You’ve lost count, the memories blurring together into a painful montage of late-night confessions, tearful apologies, and broken promises.

Each time, you told yourself it would be the last. You would stand firm, hold your ground, and finally cut the ties that bound you to him. But then he would show up—vulnerable, raw, and desperate—and the walls you had so carefully constructed would crumble in an instant. 

He knew exactly how to reach you, how to twist the knife just enough to remind you of what you once had, what you once were. And for a fleeting moment, you’d believe that maybe, just maybe, things could be different this time.

But they never were. The darkness that surrounded him, that clung to your relationship like a shroud, always found a way to seep back in. It would start slowly—a harsh word here, a lingering silence there—but soon, it would consume you both, dragging you back into a toxic cycle of pain and regret. Each time you let him back in, you lost a little more of yourself, a little more of the light that once defined who you were.

But you can’t do that anymore. You can’t keep losing pieces of yourself to a love that no longer serves you, to a relationship that has long since become a shadow of what it once was. You’ve fought too hard to reclaim your life, to step out of the darkness and into the light of something better, something healthier. You’ve built yourself back up, brick by brick, and you can’t let him tear it all down again.

This time, it has to be different. This time, you can’t open the door, no matter how much he begs, no matter how much it hurts to turn him away. You can’t let him drag you back into the darkness that you fought so hard to escape. You deserve more—more than late-night texts filled with empty promises, more than a love that only thrives in the shadows. You deserve peace, stability, and a future that isn’t haunted by the ghosts of a past you can’t change.

So you take a deep breath, steeling yourself against the familiar pull of his words, the seductive lure of what could have been. You remind yourself of the pain, the nights spent crying, the days filled with anxiety and doubt. You remind yourself that you’ve survived without him, that you’ve thrived in ways you never could have imagined when you were still caught in his web.

And as much as it hurts, as much as it feels like a betrayal of everything you once held dear, you know that you have to let him go. You have to close the door, lock it, and walk away—this time for good. Because if you don’t, you’ll never truly be free. And freedom, you realize, is worth more than any fleeting moment of comfort he could offer. You can’t let him pull you back into the darkness. You’ve come too far, and it’s time to finally step into the light.

“No, I won’t.” you say, forcing steel into your voice. “Not this time. If you care about me at all, you’ll turn around and go home. You’ll stop this before it gets worse.”

He doesn’t respond right away, and for a moment, you think maybe, just maybe, he’ll listen. But then he speaks again, his voice rough and broken. “I’m almost there. Just… wait for me.”

Your heart is racing now, your mind scrambling for what to do. “Sukuna, if you come here, I’ll call the police. I’m serious.”

There’s a sharp intake of breath on the other end, and then, finally, silence. You think he’s hung up, but then he speaks again, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry for everything. But I have to try.”

He hangs up before you can respond, leaving you standing there, staring at your phone with your heart pounding in your chest. You feel sick, torn between the history you share and the need to protect yourself from the man he’s become.

You take a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions swirling inside you. You don’t want to call the police, don’t want to escalate things that far, but you need to be ready. You need to stay strong, for your own sake.

With trembling hands, you lock your door, turn off the lights, and sit down on the edge of your bed, phone clutched tightly in your hand. You wait, praying that he’ll turn around, that he’ll finally realize that what you had is gone, and it’s time to let it go. But deep down, you know this isn’t over—not tonight, not until he’s standing at your door, and you’re forced to make the hardest decision of your life.

The minutes tick by slowly, each one heavier than the last. You sit in the dark, your breath shallow and your nerves frayed, listening for any sound that might signal his arrival. Every car that passes by your window makes your heart jump, your mind conjuring images of him stumbling out, determined and reckless.

You think back to the times when things were good between you two, when his intensity was something you admired, even loved. But that intensity had turned into something else, something darker and more destructive, and you couldn’t let it consume you both any longer.

Your phone vibrates again, pulling you out of your thoughts. Another message from Sukuna:

“I’m here.”

You freeze, your blood running cold. He’s close, maybe right outside. You stand up slowly, moving toward the window with a mix of dread and resolve. Peering through the curtains, you see his figure in the dim light, leaning against a lamppost across the street, his silhouette unmistakable.

He looks up, and even from this distance, you can see the torment in his eyes, the way his shoulders sag with the weight of whatever he’s carrying. But you can’t let that sway you. You’ve made your choice, and you need to stand by it.

Your phone vibrates again, the familiar buzz sending a jolt through your already frayed nerves. You don’t even need to look at the screen to know it’s him. The notification hangs in the air like a weight, pressing down on your chest, making it hard to breathe.

With a trembling hand, you unlock your phone, the brightness of the screen almost blinding in the darkness of your room. His message is there, short and desperate, the words filled with a plea that you’ve heard too many times before:

“Please, just open the door. We can talk, I swear. I won’t make a scene.”

You close your eyes, willing yourself to stay calm, to keep the tears at bay. His voice echoes in your mind, the deep, gravelly tone that once brought you comfort now only serves to break you down. You can almost picture him on the other side of that door, his eyes wide with that familiar mix of anger and sadness, his posture tense with anticipation. He’s close, so close that you can feel his presence like a shadow creeping over your heart.

It would be so easy to give in, to let him in one more time, to listen to whatever promises he has prepared for tonight. After all, you’ve done it before—opened that door despite knowing it would lead to nothing but more heartache. But tonight feels different. Tonight, there’s a finality in the air, a sense that if you open that door now, it won’t just be another mistake; it will be the last one, the one that shatters whatever remnants of strength you’ve managed to hold onto.

You swallow hard, your throat tight with the urge to cry. You know him too well; you know he won’t leave unless you confront him, unless you face him head-on. He’s stubborn like that, relentless in his pursuit of what he wants, even when it’s something—or someone—that’s no longer his to claim. 

But you also know, deep in your bones, that opening that door is the last thing you should do. It’s a line you can’t cross, not this time. Because if you do, you’ll be dragged right back into the storm you’ve fought so hard to escape. You’ll be pulled into his orbit, where everything is chaotic and intense, where love and pain are intertwined so tightly that you can’t tell where one ends and the other begins.

You take a shaky breath, your hand hovering over the door handle as your mind races. What could he possibly say that he hasn’t already said? What could he promise that he hasn’t already broken? The answers are clear, but the pull of the past is strong, and it tugs at you with a force that’s hard to resist.

But you have to resist. You have to stay strong, for your own sake. Because you know that once you open that door, once you let him back in, all the progress you’ve made, all the nights you’ve spent rebuilding yourself, will be undone. You’ll be right back where you started—lost, hurt, and wondering why you ever let him back into your life.

Your heart aches with the weight of it all, but you know what you have to do. You know that tonight, you have to choose yourself, even if it means walking away from someone you once loved with every part of your being. 

So you close your eyes, forcing yourself to breathe through the pain, to let it wash over you without letting it consume you. You clench your fists, nails digging into your palms as you fight back the urge to cry, to scream, to throw open that door and let everything unravel.

But you don’t. You stay where you are, standing firm in the decision you’ve made. Because tonight, for the first time in a long time, you’re choosing to protect your heart instead of breaking it all over again.

You steady your breathing, forcing yourself to stay calm as the reality of the situation sinks in. Each vibration of your phone feels like a pulse of pain, a reminder of the emotional battleground you’re standing on. You know that answering the door would only open the floodgates, allowing the turmoil and chaos of the past to flood back into your life. You’ve fought so hard to reclaim your peace, and you refuse to let it slip away now.

With a deep breath, you take a moment to center yourself. You remind yourself of the reasons you’ve decided to cut ties, the countless times you’ve faced heartache, and the strength it took to rebuild your life. This decision, though painful, is a necessary step to ensure you don’t lose everything you’ve worked so hard to achieve.

You get up and move to your front door, standing just a few inches away. The cold, unyielding surface feels like a barrier between you and the chaos you’ve left behind. You listen for any sounds—footsteps, a knock—but the night is eerily quiet, punctuated only by the occasional rumble of distant traffic. It’s as if the world itself is holding its breath, waiting for you to make the choice that will define this moment.

Another message from Sukuna pings through, and you resist the urge to check it. Instead, you focus on the decision at hand, the choice you’ve already made. You know that the best way to move forward is to keep the past where it belongs—behind you.

You glance at your phone once more and see that Sukuna has called you again. Your heart races, but you refuse to answer. You let the call go to voicemail, the familiar chime sounding distant and detached. Each unanswered call is a step towards reclaiming your autonomy, towards making it clear that you will not be dragged back into the emotional mess that has defined your relationship.

The minutes tick by slowly, each one feeling like an eternity. Finally, there’s silence—no more texts, no more calls. You take a deep breath, letting the calm settle over you. You feel the weight of your decision settle into your bones, a mixture of relief and sorrow. You’ve chosen to protect yourself, to preserve the hard-earned peace you’ve fought for.

As you turn away from the door, you feel a mixture of sadness and strength. The pain of seeing Sukuna’s name, the torment of his pleas, is still fresh, but you’ve managed to hold firm. You’ve chosen not to open the door, not to let him back into your life. This choice, as difficult as it was, is a testament to your resolve, to your commitment to yourself.

You sit back down, wrapping yourself in a blanket of quiet determination. The tears you’ve fought so hard to keep at bay finally come, not as a sign of weakness but as a release of all the emotions you’ve been holding inside. They’re a reminder of your humanity, of the depth of your feelings, but they’re also a sign of your strength—strength you needed to make the right decision, no matter how hard it was.

You’ve done what you needed to do to protect your heart, and now, you allow yourself to grieve, to heal, and to move forward. You close your eyes, letting the tears flow, and in the silence of your room, you begin the process of letting go, knowing that you’ve taken a crucial step toward finding the peace and happiness you deserve.

You reach for your phone, your hands trembling slightly as you begin to type out a message. You need to be firm, clear, and compassionate, even if you’re struggling with your own emotions. You know that any form of communication right now will only complicate things, but you also want to make sure Sukuna understands the finality of your decision.

With a deep breath, you type:

“Sukuna, I can’t talk to you right now. Please, just go home. We can’t have this conversation tonight. I need some space, and I need you to respect that. Please understand and go home.”

You hit send, watching as the message is delivered. For a moment, you feel a flicker of hope that this will be the end of it, that he’ll respect your wishes and leave you alone. You’ve made your boundaries clear, and now it’s up to him to honor them.

Minutes pass in tense silence, and your phone stays quiet. You sit back down, trying to calm your racing heart, focusing on the quiet around you instead of the anxiety that has taken root in your chest.

But then, a new message comes through. You don’t even need to look to know that it’s from Sukuna. With a heavy heart, you open it:

“I just need to see you. I’m sorry for everything, but I can’t let this end like this. Please.”

You can almost hear the desperation in his words, the anguish that comes from knowing he’s losing you. But you also know that this isn’t just about you and him anymore. It’s about your own well-being, your need to set boundaries and stick to them, even when it’s incredibly hard.

You type back:

“No, Sukuna. This is not the time. I’ve made my decision, and I need you to respect it. I can’t keep doing this. Please, just go home.”

You hit send, feeling the weight of your words settle heavily on your shoulders. You’re asking for something that feels almost impossible—to respect a boundary when emotions are high, when both of you are vulnerable. But it’s necessary. 

You put your phone aside and try to find a way to soothe the emotional storm inside you. You remind yourself of why you made this decision, of the personal growth you’ve achieved, and the need to maintain your peace. You try to focus on the positives of your life and the future you’re working toward, hoping that with time, the pain of this moment will fade and you’ll find a way to heal.

Hours tick by slowly, each minute feeling like an eternity. Finally, there’s a quiet relief in knowing that, at least for now, you’ve done all you can. You’ve set your boundaries and communicated your needs as clearly as possible.

You let yourself close your eyes, allowing the exhaustion to wash over you. The road to recovery will be long and fraught with moments like this, but for tonight, you’ve taken a crucial step toward reclaiming your life. As you drift into a fitful sleep, you hold onto the hope that tomorrow will bring clarity and a renewed sense of peace, allowing you to continue moving forward.

▬ι══════════════ι▬

IF THERE WAS A LOVE STORY WORTH MENTIONING, IT’S YOURS. Because in truth, it wasn’t a love story. It was a painful hurt instead. The romance between you and Sukuna was a tumultuous symphony of passion and pain, a story that oscillated between intense highs and devastating lows. It was a love that consumed everything in its path, leaving behind a trail of broken dreams and shattered hearts. 

You, the good girl with a heart full of hope and idealism, and him, the quintessential troublemaker whose very presence seemed to stir chaos wherever he went. It was a match made in hell, an explosive combination of purity and defiance that sparked with an almost palpable intensity. 

From the beginning, there was an undeniable chemistry between you two, a magnetic pull that drew you into Sukuna’s orbit. You were drawn to his raw energy, the way he seemed to live on the edge of every emotion, pushing boundaries and challenging norms. His life was a whirlwind of excitement and unpredictability, and it was a stark contrast to the more controlled and orderly world you inhabited.

At first, the contrasts were thrilling. Your calm demeanor and responsible nature seemed to balance out his reckless tendencies, creating a dynamic that felt electric and invigorating. You believed that your love could be the force that tamed his wildness, that your stability could anchor him amidst his stormy existence.

But as time went on, the initial thrill gave way to a more complex and painful reality. Sukuna’s troublemaking ways began to seep into every aspect of your relationship, turning what was once exciting into something exhausting. His impulsiveness, once charming, became a source of constant stress and conflict. The very qualities that attracted you to him started to feel like burdens, and the harmony you sought began to slip through your fingers.

The highs were dizzying—moments of intense connection and fiery passion that made you feel alive and on top of the world. But the lows were equally devastating, each conflict leaving deeper wounds, each argument a reminder of how differently you saw the world. The love that had once seemed like a perfect escape from your own constraints now felt like a whirlwind of chaos that you couldn’t control.

Your attempts to bring order and stability to the relationship often clashed with Sukuna’s need for freedom and rebellion. The more you tried to ground him, the more he resisted, and the cycle of conflict and resolution became a relentless pattern. The love that once felt like a daring adventure turned into a series of battles, each one leaving both of you more scared than the last.

Ultimately, the contrast between your worlds proved too great. The boundaries you set were repeatedly crossed, the promises made were broken too many times. The passion that had once ignited your connection became the fuel for your destruction. What began as a match made in hell had devolved into a battlefield of emotional devastation.

You were left to pick up the pieces of a love that had burned too brightly, too destructively. The remnants of your time together were a stark reminder of the dangers of mixing such opposing forces. In the end, the love you shared was a powerful testament to the intense beauty and agony of a relationship that, despite its fiery start, was doomed from the beginning.

From the beginning, the relationship was marked by a magnetic pull that was impossible to ignore. Sukuna's charisma and intensity drew you in, his presence filling every space with an almost palpable energy. There was a fire in his eyes, a promise of something deeper and more profound, and you were captivated by the allure of his raw power and unfiltered emotions.

At first, it felt like a dream. His touch was electric, his words charged with a potent mix of desire and vulnerability. You would get lost in his gaze, swept away by the intensity of his kisses, believing that this was what true love was supposed to feel like. Every argument, every make-up, every moment of passion felt like a confirmation of the bond you shared.

You couldn’t stand it anymore, how tired you were. How truly full of it you were. how emotionally drained you’ve been. You found yourself face-to-face with Sukuna in the dimly lit living room. He stood close, his gaze intense and his voice almost a whisper, yet filled with an undeniable gravity.

"I'm sorry." Sukuna said, his eyes searching yours for some sign of forgiveness. "I never meant for things to get so out of hand. I just... I can't stand the thought of losing you."

You could feel the weight of his words, the sincerity mixed with a touch of desperation. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart.

"You say that now, but it feels like we’re always back here, fighting and making up," you replied, your voice trembling slightly. "I thought this was supposed to be different. I thought we were building something real."

Sukuna reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek with a gentleness that belied his earlier anger. "It is real. What we have is intense, but it’s real. I know I mess up, but I need you to understand that I can’t imagine my life without you. You’re everything to me."

You looked at him, feeling the familiar mix of pain and passion. “I don’t know if I can keep doing this, Sukuna. Every time we fight, it feels like we’re tearing each other apart. Maybe this intensity isn’t what I thought it was.”

He stepped closer, his voice filled with an earnest plea. “Please, don’t say that. We can work through this. I know I’m not perfect, but we have something special. We just need to fight for it, not let it slip away because of a few mistakes.”

You shook your head, tears welling up. “It’s not just a few mistakes. It’s the pattern, the way things keep repeating. I want to believe in us, but it’s getting harder every day. We’re not just having moments of passion anymore; we’re living in a storm.”

Sukuna’s expression softened, and he pulled you into a tight embrace. “I don’t want to be the storm in your life. I just want to be with you. Please, let me show you that we can be more than this.”

As his arms wrapped around you, the warmth of his body was a stark contrast to the cold reality of your situation. You said nothing as you leaned into the warmth of his body. The intensity of his words and the fire in his eyes were a powerful reminder of his hold on you. You forgave him that night once again, as you always did. And once again, you were trapped.

But beneath the surface of this passionate connection lay a darker undercurrent, one that grew stronger with time. Sukuna's emotional volatility was not just a fleeting characteristic; it was a core part of who he was. His moods shifted with little warning, swinging from intense affection to cold detachment. What seemed like an endearing quirk quickly revealed itself as a source of profound instability.

Sukuna's massive hand moved to your hair, his fingers tangling in the strands you had painstakingly did. You were ignoring him again after your recent fight. You just wanted peace of mind from him. And you knew that he hated being ignored. You know he hated being forgotten. You were the only person in his life that dealt with him, all his everything — and to not have you there shatters him. As much, you suppose, when he shatters you by loving you.

His other hand wrapped around your side, pulling you closer against him with a possessive strength. You felt the heat of his body pressing against yours, his touch both demanding and overwhelming. He leaned in, his breath hot against your neck as he started to kiss and nibble along your skin.

The kisses were intense, growing more fervent until he bit down, his teeth breaking through the delicate skin. A cry escaped your lips, a mix of pain and confusion. You could feel Sukuna speaking against your skin, his voice muffled and indistinct, but the words were lost in the haze of sensation and hurt.

The pressure of his hand on the back of your neck was unrelenting, anchoring you to him and heightening the intensity of the moment. It was only when his fingers pressed firmly against the nape of your neck that everything snapped into focus. The sharp reality of the situation cut through the fog, pulling you back to the present.

The biting pain, the tight grip, and the overwhelming closeness were all too much. You could see the raw, unfiltered emotion in his eyes, the storm of feelings that often clouded his judgment. In that moment, you were starkly aware of the power dynamics at play, the fine line between passion and control, and the deep-seated turmoil that defined your relationship.

The kiss, now a blend of pain and longing, was a stark reminder of the complexity of your love—both fierce and destructive. The intimacy of the touch, the raw intensity, and the sharp bite were all part of the same emotional spectrum, where passion and pain were often intertwined in ways that left you feeling vulnerable and conflicted.

You could feel your skin growing moist, a cold sweat breaking out across your entire body as you struggled to maintain your sanity against his relentless touch. Ryomen Sukuna had a way of overwhelming you, of winning you over even when you were trying to resist. His touch always managed to reach places you thought were well-guarded, stirring up sensations that you couldn’t ignore. You could feel your body betraying you, slick pooling between your legs, a stark contrast to the turmoil inside your mind.

With a swift movement, Sukuna pinned you against the wall, his body pressing hard against yours. His kisses grew even more rough and demanding, each press of his lips a reminder of the intensity and chaos that defined your relationship. His hands roamed over your chest, fingers pinching and teasing, heightening the mix of pleasure and pain.

"Sukuna, slow down. It hurts." you cried out, your voice wavering as you tried to make yourself heard over the roar of conflicting emotions. The rawness in your voice was a plea for understanding, a desperate attempt to make him see the damage being done. "Sukuna, we... oh, we won't fix anything with this."

His grip faltered for a moment, but only just. He paused, his breath ragged and heavy against your skin, his eyes dark with a mixture of frustration and desire. There was a flicker of hesitation, a moment where he seemed to question the reality of the situation. But the tension in his body remained, the emotional storm far from over.

Your heart pounded as you struggled to maintain your composure, to hold onto a shred of clarity amidst the haze of his touch. The physical connection was undeniable, but it was the emotional wreckage that left you feeling most exposed. The passion that once felt exhilarating now seemed like a dangerous force that threatened to consume you both.

"Yes, we can." he murmurs, his voice a soft, dominant caress that contrasts sharply with the intensity of the moment. His lips press against your jaw with a sharp, possessive kiss, and you feel your head loll against his, unable to escape the overwhelming sensations.

His words are both a promise and a demand, a statement that attempts to bridge the gap between the pain and the passion you’re experiencing. "Because I love you. And you love me."

The declaration hangs heavily in the air, mingling with the heat of the moment. You mewl softly, a sound of both surrender and confusion. His touch and words are a potent mix, stirring emotions that you’ve been trying to keep in check. 

In your turmoil, you find yourself grappling with the truth of his words. The love you shared is undeniable, and it’s clear he still feels it deeply. Yet, the intensity of him and the roughness of his touch make it hard to reconcile with the pain and frustration that have become a part of your relationship.

"Even if you love me….." you manage to say, your voice trembling. "We can’t fix everything like this. We’re hurting each other, Sukuna.”

He doesn’t pull away, his gaze fixed on yours with an intensity that makes it difficult to look away. The struggle between your emotions and his unyielding desire leaves you feeling torn, caught between the remnants of your past connection and the harsh reality of the present.

Sukuna’s grip remains firm, his dark red eyes not leaving yours. In this moment, the lines between love and pain blur — as it was with your relationship. The declaration of love feels both comforting and confounding, leaving you with the painful realization that while feelings might persist, the way you’re handling them is only adding to the emotional wreckage. You were in love with him as much as he was with you. But what was the point of this? Of this suffering?

But as he pleasured you, you never said anything. You just let him love you painfully, because that’s all he knew. It was a raw, visceral form of connection, a way he expressed what he felt, even if it was damaging. It was all he could give, the only way he knew how to bridge the gap between you.

As you felt him inside of you, there was a deep, painful connection that mingled with the physical sensations. It was a painful reminder of the way your love had always been—intense, consuming, and sometimes overwhelmingly conflicted. The pleasure was intertwined with the hurt, making it difficult to distinguish one from the other. 

You accepted it, allowing the moment to unfold as it did. In your mind, you grappled with the reality of your situation—recognizing that this was how Sukuna knew to express his love, even if it was fraught with pain. And so, in the midst of the storm of sensations, you let yourself be caught up in the complexity of your emotions, trying to find a semblance of understanding amidst the chaos.

Arguments became frequent, fueled by misunderstandings and a growing sense of frustration. The intensity that once seemed thrilling now felt suffocating. Sukuna's need for control and dominance clashed with your desire for independence, creating a constant struggle for power. What was once exhilarating now felt like an endless cycle of conflict and resolution, each cycle leaving deeper emotional scars you didn’t want.

The tension in the air was palpable. You were sitting on the edge of the bed, your hands clenched in frustration, while Sukuna stood across the room, his posture rigid with anger and jealousy. His eyes were fixed on you, his gaze fierce and unrelenting, the result of a recent encounter with one of your friends who had been a bit too touchy for his liking.

"You’re always so quick to run off." Sukuna snapped, his voice sharp and laced with irritation. "Why can’t you just stay and deal with things like an adult? I’ve seen the way you look at others. Do you think I’m blind?"

You turned to face him, your heart pounding with a mix of anger and desperation. "It’s not about anyone else. It’s about us. You’re always so controlling. You want to dictate every part of my life. I need space, Sukuna. I need to be able to breathe."

His eyes flared with frustration as he stepped closer, the intensity of his emotions almost tangible. "Space? That’s what you call it? I saw the way you were with him tonight. It’s like you’re trying to push me away, like you’re looking for excuses to slip through my fingers."

You stood up, feeling the weight of his words pressing down on you. "It’s not about looking for excuses. I’m not trying to push you away. I just need to feel like I can make my own choices without feeling like I’m under constant surveillance. This isn’t about him. It’s about the way you’re smothering me."

Sukuna’s frustration was evident in the way he paced the room, his fists clenched at his sides. "Smothering you? I’m just trying to hold onto what we have. If you’d stop running and actually listen, maybe we could work things out. But every time I turn around, it feels like you’re slipping further away."

"You’re not holding onto what we have, Sukuna." you said, your voice trembling. "You’re suffocating me. Every time we have an argument, you try to control me even more. I need space to figure out what I want without feeling like I’m being watched and judged every second."

Sukuna stopped pacing and looked at you with a mixture of anger and hurt. "I don’t want to control you. I want to be with you, but it feels like you’re constantly pushing me away. I just don’t know how to handle it when I see you getting close to others. It makes me feel like I’m losing you."

The room fell silent, the air thick with unresolved emotions. You could see the pain in his eyes, the fear of losing you. But you also felt the deep, suffocating grip of his jealousy and control. The love that once felt exciting now seemed like a battleground, and the constant cycle of arguments and attempts at resolution were leaving both of you emotionally drained.

"I don’t want us to keep going in circles like this, Sukuna." you said softly, your heart aching. "We need to find a way to be together without this constant struggle. Otherwise, we’re just going to keep hurting each other."

Sukuna’s gaze softened slightly, but the tension remained. "I don’t know how to change things if you won’t let me in, you know that." he said, his voice a mix of vulnerability and frustration. "I just want us to be okay, but it feels like we’re constantly fighting against each other."

You took a deep breath, trying to remain calm despite the sting of his accusation. "That wasn’t flirting. I was just being polite. And even if I was, what does it matter? You can’t keep trying to control me like this. We can’t keep doing this.”

He stepped closer, his anger palpable. "You think you’re so perfect, don’t you? Always so independent, always so self-righteous. I’m the one who’s always fighting to keep us together. And this is how you repay me? By pushing me away and seeking attention from others?"

His words cut deep, each one a painful reminder of the control he exerted over your life. "This isn’t about repaying you. It’s about being true to myself. I’m tired of feeling like I have to constantly prove my loyalty to you. I’m not your possession."

Sukuna’s face contorted with frustration, and he slammed his fist against the wall. "You think this is easy for me? Watching you slip away while I’m left here fighting to keep us from falling apart? I’m trying to hold onto something real, and you’re pushing me away."

The hurt in his voice was undeniable, a mix of jealousy and desperation. But you could see the cracks in his control, the way his need for dominance had become a cage that both of you were trapped in.

"I’m not trying to push you away." you said, your voice trembling. "I’m trying to find a way to be myself without feeling like I’m suffocating under your expectations. We’re stuck in this cycle of fighting and making up, and it’s tearing us apart."

Sukuna’s expression softened for a moment, the anger giving way to a look of vulnerability. "I just don’t want to lose you. I know I’m not perfect, but I need you to understand how much you mean to me."

You sighed, feeling the weight of his words. "I know you care, but the way you show it is suffocating. We need to find a way to be together without this constant power struggle. Otherwise, we’re just going to keep hurting each other."

The room fell silent, the intensity of the argument leaving both of you exhausted. The love that once felt like a thrilling adventure now seemed like a battlefield, with each conflict leaving deeper scars. The vibrant energy that had once sparked between you was now overshadowed by an unrelenting cycle of discord and unresolved tension.

You wrapped your arms around your chest, as though trying to hug and comfort yourself amid the emotional wreckage. Your shoulders shook slightly with the effort to maintain composure, but even more tears were inevitable.

Sukuna’s posture was a reflection of his internal struggle, his anger giving way to a raw vulnerability. He took a hesitant step towards you, his voice trembling. “What do you want me to do?” he whispered, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “What can I do, to…to make you stay?”

The softness in his voice, the genuine plea for understanding, struck a deep chord. You could see the pain and desperation etched into his features, the realization of how precariously close he was to losing you. Yet, amidst the raw emotion, you felt overwhelmed and trapped.

“I don’t know,” you replied, your voice breaking as the tears began to fall freely. “I’m tired, Sukuna. I’m tired… of loving you and losing you all at once.”

His shoulders sagged as he absorbed your words, the weight of your exhaustion evident in his expression. The tears that prickled at his eyes now spilled over, reflecting the depth of his own despair. His gaze fell to the floor, unable to meet yours, the crushing reality of your relationship settling heavily between you.

The room was filled with a profound silence, broken only by the soft sounds of your sobs and his choked breaths. The love you shared, which had once been a source of exhilaration and passion, now felt like a relentless cycle of joy and pain that neither of you could escape.

Sukuna’s voice was barely audible as he spoke again, his tone carrying a sense of helplessness. “I don’t know how to fix this. I don’t know how to make things right when everything feels so broken.”

You wiped at your tears, the exhaustion of the emotional turmoil leaving you feeling drained. “Neither do I.” you admitted softly. “I wish I had the answers. I wish I could find a way to make things work, but right now, it feels like we’re stuck in a never-ending loop of hurt and confusion.”

Sukuna’s silence was heavy with resignation, a poignant acknowledgment of the struggle that had become an inescapable part of your relationship. The love that had once been a source of strength and excitement now seemed overshadowed by a painful reality that neither of you knew how to navigate.

In that quiet moment, both of you were left grappling with the depth of your feelings, the complexity of your relationship, and the painful truth that sometimes love alone isn’t enough to overcome the barriers that keep you apart.

Sukuna's tears continued to fall, and he moved closer, his steps hesitant but deliberate. He reached out tentatively, his fingers brushing against your arm in a gesture that was both gentle and desperate.

“I never meant to make things so difficult,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “I thought... I thought if I held on tight, if I tried harder, we could work through it. But now, I see how much I’ve pushed you away.”

You looked at him, your own tears blurring your vision. The sight of him, vulnerable and torn, added to the weight of your own sorrow. You wanted to reach out, to offer comfort, but the chasm between you felt insurmountable.

“I know you were trying,” you said, your voice cracking. “But the way you tried to control things... it pushed me away more than anything else. I felt like I was losing myself in trying to make things work.”

Sukuna’s hand tightened around your arm, his grip firm but not painful. “What do you need from me?” he asked, his voice desperate. “Tell me what I can do to make things right, to fix this.”

You shook your head, struggling to find the words to express the depth of your exhaustion and the confusion that clouded your mind. “I don’t know if there’s anything that can fix this right now. I just feel... lost.”

His expression softened, the realization dawning that perhaps the damage was too great to repair immediately. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice breaking. “I’m sorry for everything. I never wanted to hurt you. I just didn’t know how to handle my own fears and insecurities.”

You nodded, the sadness overwhelming. “I know. And I’m sorry too. I’m sorry that we couldn’t find a way to make this work without hurting each other so much.”

The silence between you was heavy, filled with the echoes of what had been and what might never be again. The love that had once felt so alive now seemed like a distant memory, overshadowed by the pain and the sense of inevitability.

Sukuna’s hand slowly fell away from your arm, and he took a step back, his shoulders slumped in defeat. “Maybe... maybe we both need some time apart to figure things out. To heal and find ourselves again.”

You looked at him, a mix of relief and sorrow washing over you. “Maybe you’re right. I need time to understand what I really want and to heal from all of this.”

Sukuna nodded, his face a mask of resignation and understanding. “I hope... I hope we can both find a way to be okay, even if it means being apart.”

With that, Sukuna turned and walked towards the door, each step heavy with the weight of what was ending. As he left, the silence of the room seemed to deepen. You sat down on the edge of the bed once more, your emotions a tangled mess of sadness and relief. The path ahead was uncertain, but in the quiet that followed, you felt more alone than ever before. But free. Freed from your own ruin.

▬ι══════════════ι▬

YOU COULDN’T DO IT ANYMORE IN THE END. In the end, you did break up with him. The cycle of arguments and reconciliation had become a never-ending loop, a house of cards that seemed destined to collapse no matter how carefully it was built. You loved him deeply, that was undeniable. But you also realized that rekindling the relationship would only lead to more pain, more hurt that neither of you could bear.

As you stood by the window, the first light of dawn was beginning to creep across the sky, painting the world in soft hues of pink and gold. The sight was starkly beautiful, a contrast to the turmoil that had been raging inside you. This was what life should be like, you think. You shouldn’t settle for less. You shouldn’t settle for hurt.

Outside, you could see him—still there, lingering near your door, his figure slumped against the wall. He had a cigarette against the burrow of his lips, smoke filling his face. The remnants of a wild night clung to him; he was drunk and high, his posture wavering as he waited for you. The sight of him, lost and desperate, broke your heart in a way that felt both familiar and foreign.

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of your decision settle heavily upon you. You knew that as much as you loved him, returning to him now would only mean opening the door to a love that had become toxic, a love that had already left you shattered too many times.

“I can’t go through this again.” you whispered to yourself, your voice barely audible. The realization was painful, but clear. The cycle of breaking up and making up had drained you emotionally, leaving you with scars that were too deep to ignore. “Not again.”

As the sun continued to rise, its light growing stronger, you turned away from the window, feeling a sense of finality. The decision to end things was not made lightly, and the pain of walking away was immense. But you knew it was necessary for your own well-being, for the chance to heal and find a path forward that wasn’t mired in the constant heartbreak that your relationship had become.

You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts as you reached for your phone. With a heavy heart, you composed a message, knowing it was the last thing you needed to say to him. Your fingers hovered over the screen, the weight of your decision pressing down on you as you typed:

"Sukuna, this is the last time I’m reaching out. I can see you waiting outside, and I need you to understand that this is over. I love you, but we’ve reached a point where continuing this relationship will only lead to more hurt. The cycle of breaking up and making up has left us both wounded, and I can’t keep going through it. I need to move on and find healing for myself. Please respect my decision and let this be the end. I wish you well, but I can’t be with you anymore. Goodbye."

You stared at the message for a moment, feeling a mix of sadness and relief. With a final press of the send button, you put your phone down and took a deep breath. It was done. The words were out there, and now it was time to let go and start the process of healing. You took a deep sigh and pursed your lips into a flat line.

As the first rays of sunlight began to illuminate the room, you felt a glimmer of hope amidst the sadness. The end of this chapter was painful, but it was also a step towards a future where you could rebuild, where you could heal. It was a chance to find peace and to rediscover yourself, away from the shadows of a love that had become more damaging than fulfilling.

With a final, lingering glance at the window, you steeled yourself for the difficult road ahead. The love you had for  Ryomen Sukuna was real, but the decision to move forward was the right one. As the sun rose higher in the sky, you began to prepare for a new day, one that would be marked by both the pain of goodbye and the promise of new beginnings. You hope the best for him, as much as you hoped the best for you. 

[neo-novaa]

SMUT!!! 16+

thinking about reader tending to miguel after a late night of swinging around and saving the city. thinking about how he’d come home, just before dawn, his suit ripped in places and stained crimson in others.

thinking about how you can’t sleep without him, and he knows this, and it doesn’t surprise him when he sees you wide awake, standing in the middle of your shared apartment.

and it only takes you a second before you’re bringing him into the bathroom, trying your best to pull off the suit and avoid the weeping cuts and flowering bruises all across his body. you know he should take the next night off— you know he wont.

the first aid kit is sitting out on the counter. you put it there after a sinking feeling that he’d come home with more than just bruises.

and you couldn’t be any further from being a medical professional, but you know enough in order to take care of miguel.

you know how to sew up the deepest cuts and ice the darkest bruises, you knew which brands of numbing cream worked on him and how much ibuprofen he'd have to take tonight. you’ve been at this for almost a year; you knew his body better than he did.

for as fucked up of a situation this was — your boyfriend coming home at 4:26am and covered in blood, half of which not belonging to him — it’s one of the rare times that miguel surrenders himself to you.

in moments like this, he trusts you completely. he’s relaxing his body and letting you take the reins: you tell him what to do, how to do it, and when it should be done. everything you say is littered with quiet “please?” and every time he listens you give him a softer “thank you”

soon enough he’s covered in gauze and thread and neosporin, and those gentle touches to find out where else he’s hurt start to turn more paced— more articulated. cool fingertips brushing against his warm skin, asking him “does it hurt here?” on his shoulder, his cheek, and finally, his lips.

you kiss him, and you’re gentle with him. you are so, so gentle with him, a stark contrast from the way he can get with you: all tooth and tongue, as if he’s fighting for something.

sometimes, it ends there. it ends with miguel scooping you up, laying you down in your shared bed, and running a warm hand down your spine until you’re able to fall asleep.

sometimes, it doesn’t end there: sometimes you keep going. sometimes your hands wander and wander and get lost in his hair and his scars and his skin until his hands find their way to your waist. his grip is firm as he rocks you back and forth on his thigh, whispering a perfect balance of praise and filth into your ear. 

[fictoculus]

౨ৎ genshin men; love languages...

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FEAT... aether, albedo, alhaitham, ayato, childe, diluc, gorou, heizou, itto, kaeya, kaveh, kazuha, neuvillette, scara, thoma, tighnari, wriothesley, venti, xiao, xingqiu, zhongli

A/N... ohemgee kaede is back ?!! i'm sorry it's been so longggg i've really missed writing, i think i js kinda lost my spark for a bit but i should be back to posting nowww hooray !! even if i don't come backkk (since i'm not fully certain) i hope you can still enjoy these hc drabble thingies nd also my previous works, thank you ♡

✧ quality time.

he wants nothing more than to spend time with you, to smell the sweet fragrance of your perfume as it dances in the gentle breeze. he wants to watch as your hair flows gently, each strand delicately swaying back and forth, as if to mimic the way he swings his arms when his hand is holding yours. just being around you gets him all excited, though you'll never catch him actually admitting it. he has countless photos of the two of you together, each one connected with a memory that will stay with him forever. he often finds himself looking over them late at night when he's missing you, wishing you were there to hold him, or tell him about your interests, even sitting in silence would suffice. he just wants to be with you, whether that be studying, sleeping, reading, shopping, eating - he doesn't care, he'll do anything as long as it's with you..

xiao, alhaitham, aether, heizou, wriothesley + your favs

✧ gift giving.

it's almost like routine. at least once a fortnight, he comes knocking on your door with some sort of gift, stops you in the corridor with a bag full of goodies, or has a huge bouquet of your favourite flowers delivered straight to your front door when he's unable to come see you. he goes through a lot of trouble behind the scenes to get these things together for you, but it's all worth it when he sees that pretty smile light up your face, eyes glistening with pure excitement as you see whatever he's prepared for you. his eyes, on the other hand, are full of love as he sees the outcome of his hard work; your happiness is of utmost importance to him. the gifts he gives come in all different shapes and sizes, anything from a snack you'd said you'd been craving to a ridiculously expensive piece of jewellery, but you know that no matter what it is, he put so much thought and care into picking it out for you; that's what mattered to you most. even if he didn't shower you in his love this way, you wouldn't love him any less - of course you wouldn't. you care about him, not the things he gives you (though you really do appreciate them). he loves you more than words can say, and this is his way of showing it.

zhongli, ayato, albedo, neuvillette + your favs

✧ physical touch.

he's all over you. from the second you wake up to the moment you drift off to sleep. 24/7. he just can't get enough. he's practically addicted to your warmth, the softness of your skin, scars and all. it no longer comes as a surprise when you feel his arms snake around your waist from behind, or even when he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, his hair tickling your cheek as he moulds around your figure. he can't seem to stay away from you. the second he hears your voice, or the mention of your name, even your footsteps (yes, he knows), he comes rushing over, immediately insisting on intertwining his fingers with yours. your contact is replenishing to him. no matter how tired he is or how many hardships he had to face that day, feeling you run your hands up and down his back or cup his cheeks, his mood is immediately uplifted.

itto, childe, diluc, tighnari, kaeya, kaveh + your favs

✧ words of affirmation.

"i love you" "i love you" "i love you" it's constant, over and over and over. he repeats it a thousand times, as if it's an ancient incantation, but he still doesn't think it's enough. he just wants you to know how perfect you are, how beautiful you are, how easy to love you are; he wants you to see yourself the way he sees you. he's desperate to talk about you, to tell someone how much he loves you, and who else would he tell than the person he trusts most? and so, when the two of you are finally snuggled up close, he'll whisper in your ear the most poetic words you've ever heard, trying his best to capture your essence, though to him, it always feels just out of reach. he knows he'll never be able to truly explain how he feels about you, because there are no words for that feeling he gets in his heart when he hears your voice, or lays his eyes on you, let alone thinks about you. he recites your own stories and little habits back to you as if you're a complete stranger to yourself, and honestly, you can't help but find it endearing. he loves you so much, and he always knows the perfect things to say to see that smile he treasures deep in his heart.

kazuha, xingqiu, zhongli, venti, neuvillette + your favs

✧ acts of service.

sure, he may not be so good with words, but not to worry, he makes up for it one way or another. it's the little things for him. every morning without fail, he'll pack your lunch and leave it on the kitchen counter for you, a little memo hidden inside signed off with his initials and a small doodle, as always. he'll iron your clothes and hang them in your wardrobe, all neat and tidy for when you get dressed the next day. he'll get up 15 minutes earlier than when you usually arise, cooking breakfast for you and letting the scent of crisp bacon waft into the bedroom and wake you from your slumber. he'll do anything for you, big or small; he just wants to make sure you know how much he loves you.

scara, thoma, alhaitham, diluc + your favs

thanks for reading ♡ want to read more? my requests are OPEN, so please feel free to let me know what you’d like me to write next!

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© FICTOCULUS 2024; please do not steal, translate, or repost my works as your own

[dreamescapeswriting]

Shadows And Sanctuary ~ LMH

⤜ WORD COUNT: 4.6K

⤜ PAIRING: Mafia!Minho x Fem!Reader

⤜GENRE: established relationships, anxiety, overprotective minho, sweet, cute, afraid to lose her WARNING: mentions of violence toward reader (not inflicted by minho!)

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - July 2024

⤜MASTERLIST

The late-night air was thick as you left work, your part of the city seemed to be experiencing one of the hottest summers known to man and leaving work in the middle of the night didn't even cool you down. The air was thick and hot, making it almost unbearable to breathe in and you almost regret turning your boyfriend's suggestion of taking you out for the week to get to a cooler climate. Your exhaustion from your shift weighed down on you as you headed through the streets toward your car trying to keep your thoughts on your nice long weekend with Minho.

You couldn't wait for it to just be the two of you locked up in his house just cuddling all weekend long. Not that anyone would ever believe that one of the highest-ranking mafia members in the city was as soft as he was but with you? Minho was practically a kitten in your hands rather than the jaguar he had to be out in the streets. You stared down into your bag as you searched through it to find your keys, something you should have done before you got outside. Minho was always telling you to make sure you had everything ready before you got to the car since you never really knew who was walking the streets late at night.

It was a miracle Minho even let you work as it was, he was always telling you how dangerous it was but you sometimes refused to listen to him. Assuming you were safe since the relationship between the two of you was mostly hidden behind closed doors. The only people who knew the two of you were a couple were a close group of his men and one person from work who had caught him waiting for you one night.

"Excuse me, Miss Yln?" Your head shot up from your bag and you glanced around you, turning to the source of the voice to see a man standing there. He had piercing blue eyes and an unsettlingly calm demeanour about him. He was dressed in a tailored suit and had a scar running down the left side of his cheek, setting alarm bells ringing inside of your mind.

"Yes?" You did your best to keep your voice steady with a hint of confidence behind it. The man took a step closer, his eyes never leaving you as he smiled at you, but it did nothing to ease the uneasy feeling you had growing in the pit of your stomach.

"My name is Rhysand Kovac, I believe you might know my name." Your heart pounded in your chest. Minho had mentioned Rhysand a bunch of times, always tense conversations and moments of dread whenever he was brought up and you could feel your stomach sinking. What was he even doing here? Your relationship was a secret, for this reason, you didn't want to risk anybody finding you.

"I have," You managed to say, taking a small step back away from him. Rhysand smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes but you bumped into a man's chest as you stared up to see a bald man staring down at you leaving you completely trapped.

"That saves us a bunch of time then," He chuckles deeply as he looks at you, his hands shoved into his pockets as you stare at him, wishing you'd taken Minho's offer on having a guard with you.

"You see, your boyfriend has left me in a bit of a predicament. He's been causing trouble for me and my associates and I need to get his attention and send a message." Your mouth went dry as you shook your head trying to think of a way to get out of this.

"I'm just a nurse, okay? I don't know anything about anybody's business." You lied but Rhysands expression hardened as he closed the distance between you and him within two strides, his hand gripping onto your arm with such force you knew it was going to bruise.

"I believe you dear, but it's not about what you know." He grumbles at you, his face turning red with anger, his grip tightening so much you are beginning to lose feeling in your arm.

"It's about what you mean to him," He says through gritted teeth, his eyes burning into yours as you whimper at him,

"Please...Please, let me go. I haven't done anything to you," You cried out, doing your best to stay as calm as possible but it was practically impossible now he was holding you in his grip. Rhysand took a deep breath as he leaned in closer, nuzzling his head in your neck.

"You're right, you haven't. But Minho has, and you?" A devilish smirk takes over his face as he stares down at you. He'd been planning this for weeks, watching you, making sure you had no guards at any point and making sure to get your shift schedule from the hospital.

"You're going to make sure he understands the consequences of his actions," Your mind screamed for you to fight, to kick, scream, bite, punch, anything but you couldn't move, completely frozen in place with his grip on your unyielding as you let out a small whimper of discomfort.

"What do you want from me?!" You asked, your voice trembling and it didn't go unnoticed by Rhysand who was smirking and letting out a deep chuckle.

"I need you to give Minho a message," He said, his tone cold and final as he stared down at you,

"If he doesn't comply with my demands, you'll be the one to pay the price," The hand that wasn't gripping you reached up and he cupped your face in his hand, running his thumb over your skin.

"And believe me, I always make good on my threats." With that, he let you go, stepping back as his eyes bored into yours and you felt your stomach churning.

"Now, run and tell him, I'm always watching kitten." The nickname Minho used for you tasted like acid coming from him and you fumbled to unlock your car, slamming and locking the door.

Your hands were shaking so badly you could hardly get the keys into the ignition before you sped off, glancing in the mirror to see Rhysand still standing there, his eyes still on you as he watched you drive off with a calculating expression on his face.

Tears blurred your vision as you navigated the streets, your mind a whirlwind of fear and worry, you knew the way to Minho's like the back of your hand and you didn't care how many traffic laws you broke in order to get there in a hurry.

Minho was practically yawning during the meeting he was having, surrounded by some of his men as they discussed strategies for territorial disputes. To be completely honest, Minho was mostly drowning it all out, looking forward to when you'd eventually come back and meet with him so he could unwind at the weekend.

Never in a million years would he have thought he'd find someone like you, someone who he wanted to take time off work for and spend hours with, forgetting everything around him.

"Changbin you need to tighten security on the east side. The shipments next week are due and I don't want any mishaps like the last time," He grumbled, his voice commanding. As he was about to say something else the door to his office burst open, slamming against the wall and knocking a painting from it. Guns all aimed in your direction as you stared at Minho, tears running down your face.

"Minho!" you cried out, your voice breaking. Minho shot to his feet, the chair knocking over in the process, he'd never seen you so distraught before.

"Yn?" His voice was mixed with concern and shock as he saw you. You'd never burst into his office before, you'd never even walked into the home unannounced.

"If you don't put your guns away I will personally shoot all of you!" He boomed before the men filed their guns away and he moved around the table, bringing you into his arms.

All of Minho's men watched you in stunned silence as you crashed into his arms, your head hiding in his arms.

"He-He was there, he threatened me," you managed to stumble the words out through your sobs but Minho held your body close to his,

"Who, Yn? Who threatened you?" He did his best to keep his voice soft with you, not wanting to scare you anymore than you clearly were. His men all watched closely as they waited for you to answer, some of them ready to jump into action the second a name was uttered from your lips. Minho slowly tilted your chin to look at him, his eyes searching yours as you let fresh tears spill down your cheeks.

"Rhysand." You whispered, your voice trembling almost as though you were scared to speak his name into the universe.

"Rhysand Kovac. He waited...outside the hospital and he said-" You sighed a little as you willed yourself not to cry, to at least get the words out before you broke down again.

"If you don't comply with his demands...it'll be me that pays the price," The room went deathly quiet, the only that could be heard were the men getting ready to kill on their boss's command.  

"Did he hurt you?" Minho's voice remained eerily calm and you looked at your arm,

"He hurt my arm...Minho, I'm scared," There was a little shame in your voice as you admitted it and Minho took a deep breath, his mind racing on where to even begin with it. Over his shoulder his men were assembled, their expressions ranging from concern to barely concealed anger.

"Say the word, boss," Changbin told him, holding his gun in his hand and Minho bit his cheek. As badly as he wanted to retaliate he knew he needed to think with a clear mind.

"Meetings over, get out." He bit out harshly, his men filing out of the room throwing you a worried glance as they walked past you.

Once they were gone, Minho led you over to the sofa inside of the room and sat down beside you, bringing you into his arms again as you began to cry against his chest.

"Shh, it's okay." His whispers, kissing the top of your head as he gently rubs his arms up and down your back,

"I'm not going to let anything happen to you," He promised as you clung to him, your body trembling as you stared at the wall.

"He knew me...He knew my name, where to find me...What are we gonna do?" You whispered as you finally pulled back from his embrace, your eyes finding his as he closed his eyes for a second. His mind was flooded with thoughts, everything he wanted to do. The image of Rhysands cold, calculating eyes burned into his memory.

"I'll take care of it." his voice was steady despite his anger and you watched him closely. You'd never wanted to know what his plans were, since staying out of it was always better but this time you wanted to know what he planned.

"I promise, I won't let anything happen to you," He presses a kiss to your head as you cuddle into him. The fear of losing you twisted like a knife in his cut, he wasn't going to let Rhysand win.

"From now on, you're never alone. I'll have my best men watching you, protecting you. And I'll deal with that scumbag, I'll make sure he regrets ever even thinking of touching you." You nodded your head, your trust in him unwavering,

"Okay...Just be careful," you begged as he leaned down, pressing his lips to yours softly.

"I promise." He whispered, holding your hand as you cuddled closer to him, your mind returning to that dark place where you saw Rhysand but Minho's was already coming up with a way to destroy him.

It had almost been a week since your run-in with Rhys and it was safe to say you were starting to feel exhausted from looking over your shoulder. Every moment you expected him to come for you, to break through your armed guards and do something but nothing ever happened.

You sat in the window of the hospital break room and stared down at the city. Ever since the encounter Minho had insisted on showing protection, assigning ten of his men to be with you at all times. It felt suffocating at times, everywhere you turned there were guards, outside your apartment, following you to work, even outside the hospital during your shifts. You knew Minho meant well but the constant presence of his men was a dreadful reminder as to why they were there. Sighing a little you began to make your way to go and see some of your patients, the guards following you closely.

"Can you get Minho here? Please," You begged as you stared down at one of his men, his eyes cold as he stared back at you, reaching for his phone and calling his boss instantly.

Minho made his way to the hospital, determined to see you after you'd practically begged his men to get him there. As he entered your office, he was met with a concerned look from you Patients were asking you to be taken off their cases and you were almost down to none.

“Min, this is too much,” you said softly, running your hands over your face.

“I can’t breathe with all these men around me all the time. I know you’re trying to keep me safe, but…” Minho crossed the room and took your hands in his, he knew it was probably too much but he couldn't breathe if it meant leaving you unprotected. The thought of something happening to you was clouding his mind and he couldn't focus on anything. Every night he went to sleep his mind was filled with nightmares about something happening to you.

“Baby, I can’t lose you,” he said, his voice filled with a desperation that mirrored his nightmares, images of you killed in a million different ways flashed in his mind.

“I keep seeing you in danger, and it’s driving me insane. I just want to make sure you’re safe.” You'd heard about his nightmares, you'd been there when he had them but it didn't make it easier for you. You squeezed his hands, your eyes softening.

“I know, Min. I know you’re scared. But this isn’t the way. We need to find a balance. I can’t live in fear, and neither can you.” Minho nodded, taking a deep breath as he tried to steady his thoughts. There had to be a space between 10 men watching you that he could use.

“You’re right. I just… I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you.” His face scrunched together and you reached up and cupped his face, forcing him to meet your gaze. While you were terrified of Rhysand you couldn't live every day around so many men, you needed some space.

“We’ll figure it out together,” You said firmly, your eyes filled with promise as you watched him closely.

“But you have to trust that we can get through this. You can’t protect me from everything, babe. And that’s okay.” He pulled you into his arms, holding you close as if to ward off the lingering fears from his nightmare.

“I love you, Yn,” he whispered into your hair, his arms tightening around you.

“I’ll find a way to make this right. I promise.” His men had been searching for Rhysand ever since the night he'd grabbed you but it was like he'd gone off the radar and disappeared completely.

"I'll find him and end this." He promises, his words said with such confidence you truly believe him.

The hospital was unusually quiet that night as you walked through the halls that night, you'd picked up extra shifts needing the money and you were starting to wish you hadn't. You moved through the dimly lit corridors, your footsteps echoing softly on the polished floors. Most of the patients were asleep, and the usual hustle and bustle had settled into an eerie calm. Despite the quiet, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had settled over you.

You made your way to the nurses' station, where a couple of your colleagues were finishing up paperwork as they glanced up at you. They exchanged tired smiles and small talk, but your mind was elsewhere, replaying the events of the past few days. Minho had reluctantly scaled back the number of guards at the hospital, allowing you some semblance of normalcy, but tonight you felt their absence acutely. You only had the one guard now who had gone out to go and get you something to eat, leaving you alone and unprotected.

"Yn, can you check on Mr Thompson in Room 312? He requested some water," one of the nurses asked as you tiredly nodded your head, trying to shake the uneasy feeling from you. The hospital was supposed to the a safe space, it wasn't as though Rhysand could walk right through the door.

"Sure, no problem," You whispered your reply forcing a smile as you picked up a water pitcher and a cup. You walked down the hallway, the lights flickering slightly as you passed not easing the feeling you had in the pit of your stomach. When you reached Room 312, you knocked gently before pushing the door open. The room was dimly lit, and for a moment, it seemed empty, the curtain was pulled around the bed inside of the room.

"Mr. Thompson?" You called out softly, stepping further inside frowning when you had no response. The door clicked shut behind you, and you spun around to find herself face-to-face with Rhysand. He stood by the door, his eyes cold and calculating, a sinister smile playing on his lips.

"Good evening, Yn," Rhysand said, his voice smooth and menacing. Your heart raced, fear gripping you as you instinctively stepped back, the water pitcher slipping from your hands and shattering on the floor, splashing up your legs and cutting your skin a little.

"What are you doing here?" You demanded, your voice trembling as you looked at him, fumbling behind you for the nurse's button. Rhysand merely smirked at you and took a step forward, his presence dominating the small room.

"I came to deliver a message," he said calmly.

"Minho seems to have misunderstood my previous warning. I thought a more personal touch might be necessary." Your mind raced, trying to think of a way out. You glanced towards the emergency call button on the wall, but Rhysand noticed and shook his head, tutting at you.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," he said, his smile widening. "You see, I can be quite persuasive."

"What do you want?" You asked, trying to keep your voice steady, you knew it wouldn't be long until your guard came back to find you missing and you prayed he'd find you quickly.

"I want Minho to understand that he cannot defy me without consequences," He replied, his tone darkening. "And you, my dear, are the perfect leverage." He reached his hand out, running his hand over your cheek and smirking down at you. You felt a wave of anger hit you.

"Minho will never give in to you," You said defiantly, your eyes burning into his. "You’re wasting your time."

"Call him," He says through gritted teeth, reaching for the knife in his pocket as he holds it up to your neck, way past the point of playing nice with you.

"I SAID CALL HIM!" He screamed, you flinched reaching for your phone in your pocket. Your hands shook as you dialled Minho's number, your stomach sinking as you felt the cold blade of the knife on your throat. It rang once, twice, and then his voice came through, filled with concern.

"Yn? Are you okay?" He asked, sensing your distress immediately.

"Minho, he's here. Rhysand is here and he's holding-," You were cut off by the cold knife,

"A knife to her pretty little throat, I suggest you get down here before I cut her into tiny little pieces, Minho." Was all Rhysand said before smashing your phone onto the wall, your eyes meeting Rhysands as you felt tears slipping from your eyes?

The hospital corridors were eerily silent as Minho hurried through them, his heart pounding with a mix of fear and anger, God it felt like it had taken him years to get here. Your frantic phone call still echoed in his mind, replaying in his mind over and over again.

As he neared the room where you had been. Panic surged through him, but he forced himself to stay focused. He moved quickly, silently, towards the room.

The door was slightly ajar, and through the crack, he could see Rhysand standing inside, holding you against the wall with a knife to your throat. Your eyes were wide with terror, your breaths coming out in nothing but shallow gasps, Minho felt his stomach churn at the thought of you completely unprotected in there.

“Every time you try to leave, I’ll make sure you regret it,” Rhysand snarled, pressing the blade closer to your skin but not quite breaking it yet. Minho felt a cold fury rise within him. He couldn’t let this happen. He had to act quickly, decisively. Taking a deep breath, he pushed the door open with a swift kick, his gun drawn and aimed at Rhysand who tightened his hold on you.

“Let her go, Rhysand,” Minho ordered, his voice deadly calm as he stared over at you both, his eyes flicking over at you to make sure you were okay. Rhysand glanced over his shoulder, his eyes narrowing as he saw Minho.

“Ah, Minho!” he said with a twisted smile, your stomach twisting as you glanced to see your boyfriend holding the gun.

“Just in time. I was beginning to think you wouldn’t show up.”

“Step away from her,” Minho growled, taking a step forward.

“Now.” Rhysand grip on the knife tightened, and he pressed it harder against your throat, making you wince and let out a small whimper, pleading with Minho to help you.

“One more step, and she dies,” he warned. “Do you really want to test me?” He growled out. Minho's eyes flicked to yours, filled with fear and pleading with him. He had to be careful, and precise.

“You won’t get out of here alive if you hurt her,” He said, his voice low and threatening, if he killed you Minho would torture him, painfully, dragging it on for weeks.

“Think about it, Rhysand. There’s no escape for you.” Rhysand only laughed a cold, bitter sound.

“You think I care about escape? This is about making you suffer. Watching you lose the one thing you care about.” He said as he traced the knife over your face, a small cut forming on the left side of your cheek as he smirked. Minho's hand tightened around his gun.

“Yn, close your eyes,” he said softly. your eyes widened as you realised what he was going to do, you had complete faith in him but it didn't stop you from being scared. Slowly you closed your eyes, your body trembling.

In one swift motion, Minho fired his gun. The shot echoed loudly in the small room making your head pulse and your heart beat rapidly. Rhysand staggered back, a look of shock on his face as he dropped the knife, you heard the clatter and kicked it away from you, turning to see Rhysand. He clutched his chest where the bullet had hit, blood spreading rapidly across his shirt. The nurse inside of you wanted to reach out but you remembered what he'd done to you and Minho. Minho rushed forward, catching you as you stumbled away from Rhysand. He held you tightly, his heart pounding with relief.

“It’s okay, baby. It’s over.” He whispered, cradling you closer to him. Rhysand fell to the floor, gasping for breath. His eyes met Minho's one last time, filled with hatred and disbelief.

“You…you’ll never be safe,” he choked out before the light faded from his eyes. Minho didn’t even spare him another glance. All his attention was on you, as you shook in his arms.

“Are you okay?!" He panicked, running his fingers over the small cut on your cheek, you leant into his touch and whimpered,

"I was so scared, Minho. I thought... I thought he was going to—" You couldn't get the words out as bile rushed to your throat, Minho wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his chest.

"Shh, it's over," He murmured, stroking her back softly, his heart racing.

"He can’t hurt you anymore. I promise you’re safe now." He held you close to him, feeling the tension slowly drain from your body as you cried against him. The fear that had gripped him since Rhysand's first threat began to fade, replaced by a fierce determination to protect you at all costs. There was no chance he was going to let anything happen to you ever again.

Minho guided you out of the room, keeping you close as they made their way through the hospital. His men were already moving through the building, ensuring there were no more threats but you couldn't take your eyes off Minho.

As you reached the entrance, he turned to his most trusted lieutenant, Changbin.

“Get Yn home, and make sure she’s safe,” he ordered. “I have some things to wrap up here.” He glanced back at the hospital and Changbin nodded but you hadn't moved yet. Your arm was still wrapped with Minho's

“Min, please be careful,” You said softly, almost too scared to be away from him again but he nodded his head, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead,.

“I will be,” He promised. “I’ll see you at home.” He whispered before Chagnbin led you back to the car.

A Year Later*

The early morning sun filtered through the curtains, making you stir and whimper a little in your sleep, your eyes fluttering open to the sound of birds chirping outside the window. For a moment, you simply lay there, savouring the peace and quiet. It had been a long journey to reach this point. But a gentle kiss on your forehead made you smile. You turned to see Minho lying beside you,

"Good morning," he murmured, his voice soft and tender, as you cuddled into his chest.

"Good morning," you replied, your heart swelling with happiness.

"Do you have to go into the office today?" You asked, snuggling closer to him not wanting him to leave you alone again. Minho chuckled as he pressed a kiss to your cheek,

"Not today. Today, I'm all yours." Your smile widened. The two of you had both worked hard to carve out moments like these, moments of normalcy and peace. You'd quit working at the hospital after the incident and mostly stayed at home, patching up any of his men who needed some help with wounds.

"I was thinking," Minho said, his tone becoming more serious. "Maybe it's time we took that trip we’ve been talking about. Just the two of us. Somewhere far away from all of this." He gestured around his room and your eyes widened a little

"Where were you thinking?" You ask, cuddling into him as you both begin to dream of your holiday destination, just enjoying the calm of being together.

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[innerfare]

Blue Balls - Sabo: Part 1  

Summary: Sabo ends up with a case of blue balls; text below the cut

Pairing: Sabo x Afab!Reader

Genre: smut

CW: dirty talk, Sabo masturbating, needy Sabo

Word Count: 1,153

———

Sabo didn’t know what to do with himself. 

The first few weeks you were gone, he’d jerked off morning, noon, and night to the thought of you, but as the memory of your touch grew more distant and the hole in his chest became gaping, he couldn’t stand to touch his cock without you there to run your fingers through his blonde hair and tell him how pretty his scars were, the words leaving your heart-shaped lips, swollen from making out, mere seconds before you wrapped them around his length. 

Not being able to stand it didn’t stop him from doing it, though. 

Feeling like his heart might give out from the pressure built up in his chest, he reached a hand under the covers and grabbed his length. At what point had your skill surpassed his? When had he become utterly useless with his own cock? He fumbled with it like he’d never jerked the thing before, his balls so heavy he worried they would fall off if he stood up. How precisely was he supposed to replace the feeling of your mouth with his stupid hand? 

You were so nice when you sucked him off, so sweet. You blinked up at him with those pretty eyes of yours, smiled softly when you pulled away to catch your breath. His favorite was when your hair spilled down your chest and you wore something with straps or loose sleeves that fell off your shoulder so his eyes could travel the length of your collarbone. 

He could remember all that, so why couldn’t he make himself cum? 

He’d hit a wall three weeks ago, and he was absolutely losing it. He’d always been one to work and train overtime, but he’d become obsessive as of late. Everyone from Dragon to Koala had noticed, and had even tried getting him to relax, until Ivankov made a comment about Sabo’s raging hormones and everyone had dropped the matter. 

He should have fought Ivankov for saying that- he certainly wanted to- but he didn’t even have it in him. He also didn’t want to get any closer to the devil fruit user than he absolutely had to for fear the queen would assess the true depths of his emotional and sexual despair, and Sabo couldn’t stand the humiliation. 

But Ivankov was right. 

His hormones were raging. 

Sabo growled like a wild beast. He kicked his covers off, the sheets clinging to his sweaty skin. He dropped his cramping hand at his side and stared up at the ceiling in the dark. His chest heaved, and his cock throbbed painfully, a drumbeat between his legs that only grew louder with each moment to pass. He wondered if a man could die from blue balls. 

If that was possible, he told himself, it would have happened by now. 

“It has to work eventually,” he muttered to himself. 

He dragged his hand off the mattress and grabbed the length of his cock again. He brushed his thumb over the biggest vein, just like you always did with a coo, and found the head. He pressed down on it and spread the pre cum around, using it as lubricant. But then he recalled how you kissed and licked his balls, treating them like the most precious things in the world, and suddenly, everything he did was lacking. 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” 

He grabbed your pillow and shoved it into his face, the scent of your citrus perfume long having faded. He whined, the pillow catching the sound, and gave his cock a heavy tug. He felt it twitch, but he caught the pleasure in his hand only for a second before it escaped him. 

“Do you have some sort of smothering kink I don’t know about?” A voice asked. 

Sabo threw the pillow off and sat up in bed with a gasp. He saw a figure illuminated in the doorway, a figure with your perfect shape. His gaze fell on your sweet face, and he was caught between the urge to fling himself at you and actually smother himself to escape the humiliation of being caught with his dick in his hands. 

“Y/n?” He watched with wide eyes as you closed the door, leaving only a bit of light to shine in through the bottom, and a bit more through the window. He rubbed his eyes. “What… is this real? What are you doing here? You aren’t supposed to be back for another two weeks!” The embarrassment almost too much to bear, he dragged the sheets over his lap. 

“I finished my mission early and thought I would surprise you.” You giggled. “I guess I did.” You relished the sight of your boyfriend naked in bed, muscles coiled beneath his tan skin, his blonde hair stuck to his forehead, his impressive cock standing at attention. “I can come back later if you want me-” 

“No!” He lurched forward, only to grit his teeth. “Fuck.” 

“Sabo, are you alright?” You hurried to the side of the bed, thinking he’d hurt himself. You sat down on the edge, placing a hand on his bare shoulder; you noticed his skin was covered in a thin sheen of sweat and frowned. 

Sabo shuddered. “Fuck,” he hissed again. “Fuck.” 

“Sabo-” 

“I’m fucking dying.” With that, he fell back against the pillows. “It doesn’t matter what I do. It’s all wrong. You’re the only one who can do it right, and you’ve been gone forever. And it fucking hurts, y/n.” His voice cracked toward the end. 

You felt bad for him, but you also couldn’t help but smile to yourself. You hadn’t had much communication with your boyfriend in the time you had been away, and you’d worried that he didn’t miss you as much as you missed him, that he didn’t lay awake at night stroking himself but to no avail. 

“And the pillow?” 

“It used to smell like you,” he admitted, the darkness making him feel safe enough to be a little more pathetic than he would normally. “It doesn’t anymore.” 

“Awe, you poor thing.” 

Just then, the smell of your perfume wafted over to him. “Fuck.” He launched himself at you, pulling you into his arms and dragging you into bed with him. He wrapped his legs around you, too, clinging to you like a big baby. “Fuck.” The sound of your giggle as he buried his face in your hair and inhaled almost made him cum, and the weight of his problem came down on his chest once more like a ton of bricks. “Y/n, I need-” 

“I know what you need, big boy,” you interrupted. 

His cock twitched at the sound of the nickname. 

You cupped his face in your hands and pressed those perfect, soft lips to his. You gave him a series of lingering, close-mouthed kisses before brushing his blonde hair from his sticky forehead. “Lay back. I’ll take care of you.” 

Sabo didn’t need to be told twice, crashing back into his pillows with a shallow sigh. 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[fluentmoviequoter]

A Room Away (No More)

Part 2 of A Room Away

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!roommate!reader

Summary: Your abusive ex reaches out, and you hide it from Tim until it's almost too late.

Warnings: angst, domestic violence, abuse, assault, anxiety/panic attacks, fluff and a happy ending guaranteed!!

Word Count: 3.7k+ words

A/N: A Room Away is one of the first Tim fics I wrote and it took me a few months, but I loved writing this continuation! I hope you enjoy!🤍

Picture from Pinterest

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

Tim’s thumb brushes back and forth over a nearly invisible scar on your arm as you wait for your dinner guests. Remembering that it has been days since your last nightmare and nearly a week without a migraine makes you smile, and Tim glances at you but doesn’t ask any questions. The doorbell rings and he grumbles under his breath as he leaves your side. As he opens the door to invite Angela and Wesley in, your phone vibrates beside you. Tim is giving Angela a hard time, as usual, and you take the moment when her attention isn’t on you to read the new text.

Unknown There is nowhere you can go that my love won’t lead me to find you.

The sentence is familiar, too familiar. You read the message again, and before you finish another comes through.

Unknown Los Angeles isn’t big enough to hide you from me.

“Are you okay?” Angela asks.

You lock your phone quickly and clear your throat before you look up at her and nod. The message repeats over and over in your head. Your phone may not know who sent the text, but you do, and knowing that your ex is in the same city as you terrifies you. Deep down, you know you should tell Tim, but you can’t.

“How’s Timothy treating you?” Angela adds.

She sits beside you, and you try to forget about the text for now. “He still won’t reduce my rent,” you complain jokingly.

Tim watches you from his spot in the kitchen. The last few weeks have been good. Your nightmares are becoming less frequent, you let Tim touch you without flinching or panicking, but the look on your face right now isn’t right.

“How are things?” Wesley asks. “Need a prenup, yet?”

“Funny, Wesley,” Tim replies without looking away from you. “I hope Angela cleans you out in the divorce.”

“He can keep the kids,” Angela adds from beside you.

“Good luck getting rid of me,” Wesley says. He lowers his voice and turns away from Angela to ask, “Seriously, Tim, is everything okay?”

“Yeah. Things are good, great even. I just don’t want to do anything that makes us go backward.”

“Abusive relationships are hard to get over, but you’re helping her with that, Tim.”

“I hope so.”

“Wasn’t a question, Sergeant.”

Tim rolls his eyes as he puts your favorite food on a plate. It isn’t often that Angela and Wesley come over, but right now, Tim wishes he was alone with you so he could check on you. You don’t seem to hide things from him on purpose, and he understands the time it takes to trust people after having your trust betrayed and being abused. He’ll never push, but the moment you pull, he’s there. Never more than a phone call or a room away.

“Here you go,” Tim murmurs as he passes you a plate.

Your shoulders tense as he nears you but drop just as quickly. The jumpiness is something that was completely gone just yesterday, and Tim furrows his brows as he watches you accept the plate and look out the window. He runs a finger over your jawline to bring your attention back to him, and you smile at him.

“You alright?” he asks.

It seems to be everyone’s question tonight, and you once again lie, “Yeah.”

Tim nods and you thank him for the food before moving to sit by Angela. With his eyes on you throughout dinner, Tim decides that something is wrong, and he needs to get to the bottom of it. You open up as the night continues, yet when Angela and Wesley leave, you fall silent as you clear the table.

“Hey,” Tim calls softly.

He wraps a kind hand around your wrist to stop you, and you flinch away from him involuntarily. Tim raises his hands, and you drop your chin toward your chest and fight the tears threatening to spill. You’re scared because of the text, but that is no reason to move away from Tim. As you struggle not to panic, Tim whispers that everything is okay.

“I’m sorry,” you breathe out.

Tim shakes his head to remind you that you never have to apologize. You step closer and pinch his shirt between your fingers before wrapping your arms tightly around his waist. Strong arms settle over your back, and you push your cheek over Tim’s heart.

“I’m just feeling off, or something,” you say. “Please don’t worry about me.”

Tim hums and moves a hand to brush your hair away from your face. He won’t agree not to worry about you, and it’s too late to pretend like he’s not already doing just that.

The next few days pass slowly, and as you continue to spend more time at home, Tim’s concerns grow. You’re up and moving around, so it’s not a migraine, but you haven’t worked more than eight hours in three days. Every time Tim sees you at home, he hugs you, kisses you, and silently reminds you that he’s right beside you, but you keep up your act that nothing is wrong. It’s a failing façade, though, and you’re just waiting to break.

When you wake just after 1 in the morning, you can’t stop the scream that escapes. Your ex was in your room, in Tim’s home, and when he was done with you he was going to cross the hall and do the same to Tim. Of all the nightmares you’ve had, seeing Tim moments away from being hurt was the scariest of them all. You pull your knees up to your chest and drop your head as you sob, your panicked scream making way for the fear you’ve been burying since you got the text.

Tim comes in without question or knocking, and when your door hits the wall, you lift your head and flinch to the other side of your bed. At the sight of Tim, however, you launch yourself toward him and let him pull you close. You cry against his chest as he whispers comforting promises, but the only thing that helps you is the tangible reminder that he is safe. You tell yourself over and over, clutch his shirt, and listen to his heartbeat. He’s safe, and he won’t let anything happen to either one of us.

As he holds you, Tim keeps you as close as possible. He knows that you shouldn’t ask questions now. Not that you’d give him an honest answer anyway, he thinks. Whatever you’ve been hiding is making you scared, and it breaks Tim’s heart to see you affected this way. Waking up to your scream scared him, so he can only imagine what must be going through your mind.

Unknown I saw the planetarium today. Can you see it from your new home?

Unknown Met a girl in the supermarket who looked like you. But I won’t settle for second best.

Unknown Clues, clues, clues. Am I getting closer, baby?

With each new text you receive, you have to talk yourself out of running from Tim. You don’t want to pull away from him, but you constantly worry that if you’re found, Tim will be in danger, too. A knock on your door draws your attention away from the newest message, and Tim smiles when you meet his eyes.

“Want to go to lunch? Just us?” he offers.

You should say no, but you nod before standing. Nothing bad can happen in public, and being beside Tim is the safest place to be, you think. Even as you try to convince yourself that going to lunch will be fine, you can feel the fear and anxiety building in your chest. It weighs down on you and makes it hard to breathe, so you measure each breath and focus on Tim instead of the adrenal responses flooding your body.

Tim turns into a random subdivision and slows down. You raise your brows and look at him, but he only offers a hand extended over the console. When you lay your hand over his, he intertwines his fingers with yours and pulls your hand closer to him. He makes another turn, and you realize that he’s not taking a shortcut to the restaurant.

“What are you doing?” you inquire quietly.

“I don’t want to push you too hard or too soon,” he says. “But something is bothering you, and I can’t help if you stop talking to me.”

“Tim, I’m fine, I promise. I’ve just been feeling off.”

“Why?”

“It doesn’t matter. It’ll pass.”

“What will pass? Pushing me away and blocking me out won’t fix whatever is happening!”

“And telling you will?” you ask. You’re getting defensive because you’re scared, and you try to pull your hand away so you can stop talking to him.

“Why did you ever let me in if it was just going to end like this? I’m with you, but why can’t you trust me enough to tell you what’s making you scream in the middle of the night and jump when I walk up behind you?”

“Because he can threaten me all he wants, but I don’t want Brent to find you too!” you snap.

“Brent?” Tim asks lowly. He pulls his hand away and sets his jaw to ask, “Brent who?”

You shrink in the passenger seat and whisper his last name. Tim’s brakes squeal as he presses the pedal to the floor and parks on the side of the road. You can tell without looking at him that he’s angry, and you slipping up and saying your ex’s name certainly didn’t help.

“Get out,” Tim orders.

“Are you serious?” you whisper brokenly.

“Out of my truck. Now.”

You slide out of the passenger seat and close the door behind you. Tears have been building in your eyes for a week, and you let them fall freely now. You’re scared and hurting, but Tim refuses to look at you as you stand on the curb.

“Tim, please don’t do this,” you plead through the rolled-down window.

Tim doesn’t answer, and when he shifts the truck back into drive, you know he’s serious about leaving you here.

“Tim, please!” you beg through your tears.

“Go home,” he says over the engine.

The truck pulls away from the curb where you stand, and you harshly wipe your tears away to clear your vision. As you dig for your phone, you know it’s time to take Angela up on her offer. She said to call if Tim was ever mean to you, and you think leaving you on the side of the road counts.

Tim turns around in a nearby cul-de-sac and parks behind a tree where you can’t see him, but he can keep an eye on you. He’s angry and needed a second to calm down, but he never intended to leave you. He sighs as he types the name of your ex into his phone. He’ll ask Angela to run it later. When Tim looks back up at you, you have your back to him, and your phone raised to your ear. Your shoulders shake as you cry, and Tim taps his knuckles against his steering wheel. He made you cry this time, and though he’s glad to have a few answers, he wishes this wasn’t how he got them.

After moving in, you confided in Tim that Angela told you to call her if he was ever mean to you. When her car pulls up and you climb into the passenger seat, Tim shakes his head fondly. You’re mad at him, but you’re still perfect in his eyes. Now that he knows you’re safe, Tim decides to stop by the station and do some digging on your ex.

“I think I’m going to text Tim,” you say.

“What? No! He abandoned you. Just eat your ice cream and wait for him to come and beg on his knees,” Angela replies. She points her spoon at you and adds, “You’re too good for him, anyway.”

“I think that’s the other way around.”

“Fine,” she groans. “Text him. But I’m still mad at him.”

Your text to Tim is short, a simple apology, just: I’m sorry. His response is nearly immediate, and you smile when his name pops up in the notification.

Tim I’m not mad at you. I know you’re with Angela. Want me to pick you up?

Tim You don’t have to come home if you’re not ready. Whatever you want.

Your response is a promise that what you want is to be with Tim. Angela rolls her eyes at your smile, but she’s happy for you and Tim. After all, it’s because of her that you found a place a live and met Tim. She begins to ask a question, but your ringing phone cuts her off.

“Tim?” you ask as you answer.

“When did the texts start?” he inquires.

“Uh, about a week ago, I guess.”

“Change of plans, then. Let me talk to Angela.”

You pass the phone to Angela, and she listens for a moment before she stands and walks into her bedroom. Whatever they’re talking about, they don’t want you to know about. Tim said there was a change of plans, which sounds suspiciously like he won’t be taking you home tonight. The panic from earlier returns slowly as you wonder if he’ll ever let you go home again.

“Your boyfriend wants to talk,” Angela says, cutting through your doubt as she returns your phone.

“Sorry,” Tim begins. “I looked into your ex. He flew into LAX about a week ago, so the texts weren’t just threats. He’s here. And a week is a long time when you’re trying to find someone. I want you to stay at Angela’s tonight, okay?”

“Are you- are you working tonight?” you ask softly.

“I am now. Brent’s got an arrest warrant, and the threats he sent you make him a higher priority. We’re gonna look for him. We will find him,” Tim promises.

“Be careful, Tim.”

“I will. I have to get home to you, right?”

“Right.”

“I’ll call you later and check in. Let Angela know if you get more texts, please.”

“I will. Sorry for not telling you sooner.”

“I promise I’m not mad at you.”

“I know,” you murmur. “See you later, Tim.”

Tim’s decision to drive by his house before he starts looking for your abusive ex was both a precaution and about Kojo. The house looks exactly as it had when he left with you for lunch, and Tim puts Kojo in the front seat of his shop before driving toward Angela and Wesley’s house. If Brent goes to his house to find you, both you and Kojo will be safe and sound with Angela Lopez prepared to defend you. There aren’t many people Tim trusts, but when you called Angela, he knew you made the right choice. It’s the one he would have made, too.

Kojo pushes past Angela to meet you when she opens the door. You happily invite him into your lap and hug him tightly. He soothes your nerves without trying, and you loosen your grip on him only to look up at Tim.

“Nothing yet,” he says with a shake of his head. “I’m a call away if you need anything.”

“Thank you, Tim,” you reply.

He lays a hand on your shoulder and smiles as he promises, “I’ve got you.”

“Where’s your car?” Angela asks you.

“I just moved it. Public parking off Sepulveda,” Tim answers for you. “He doesn’t seem like the smartest guy in the world, but, just in case.”

“He’s not,” you agree.

Tim slowly pulls his hand away before he leaves again, and you lean closer to Kojo for his comfort. Angela disappears into her bedroom again a few minutes later and returns in a rush.

“I have to go. There’s been a homicide,” she explains. “I called Tim and he’ll be here in less than thirty minutes. Don’t answer the door for anyone; he and Wesley have keys.” She slows to ask, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Go solve a homicide.”

She rushes out the front door and locks it behind her, but you stand and double-check it anyway. Your phone is empty of notifications, and you can only wait until Tim arrives. After you settle beside Kojo again, you give him your attention. You and he freeze simultaneously when your phone chimes on the coffee table.

Unknown Walk outside or you will cost them everything.

You read it twice before you realize what he’s asking you to do. The moment you step out in the open, he can do anything and everything he wants. But you look around and see the life Tim and Angela have built for themselves and know that you can’t do anything to jeopardize that or their safety. So, you quickly shepherd Kojo into a bedroom and lock the door before slowly flipping the locks on the front door and stepping out into the Los Angeles night. The sun recently set, but there’s enough light you can see someone standing at the corner of the yard. Tim can’t be more than a few minutes away, but his thirty-minute estimation feels like an eternity.

“Los Angeles,” Brent says before laughing. “I knew you’d run somewhere you could hide but the city of angels? You, baby, were never going to fit in here.”

“What do you want?” you ask, willing your voice to be strong.

Brent smiles and you take a step back as he moves closer. You stumble against the sidewalk behind you, and Brent surges forward to wrap a cruel hand around your arm. He twists your skin with his grip, and everything about his touch is the opposite of Tim’s. For the first time since you met Brent, you fight back. Your free hand makes contact with his jaw, but he recovers quickly and shoves you to the ground.

Pulling your knees up, you try to create momentum to knock Brent off of you, but he pushes your legs down and shoves the heel of his hand between your ribs. The air is driven from your lungs, but you know you can’t stop fighting. When Brent moves his hands, so one is holding your face and the other is reaching for something in his waistband, you panic. You need Tim, but he’s a call away, and you left your phone inside.

“Domestic dispute and assault in progress at…”

Tim doesn’t hear anything past Angela’s address, and he hits the lights as he makes the final turn onto her street. Several neighbors are gathered on the opposite side of the street and watching an altercation in Angela’s front yard when he reaches the curb. A woman screams, and Tim slams the shop into park when he sees the glint of a gun being pulled. He opens the shop door and immediately ducks as a shot is fired. “L.A.P.D. Put down the weapon!” he yells from behind his open door.

He calls your name, but there’s no sound. No reply, no calls or screams from the neighbors, and Tim peeks around the door. Slowly, the gun is tossed to the side and the man, your ex, slowly clambers onto his hands and knees. When he sits back and puts his hands up, Tim has a clear view of you lying on the ground. There’s blood on your face, and you’re not moving, so Tim rushes forward. Two more police cars join Tim’s shop, but his complete focus is on you. He kneels beside you and pushes two fingers against your pulse point.

“I’m okay,” you whisper when you feel Tim’s skin on yours.

Tim sighs and drops his head before wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pulling your torso off the ground and into a hug. You return his tight grip as he sits on the sidewalk and holds you close. Two other officers handcuff Brent and put him in the back of a cruiser, and you’re surprised but pleased with the lack of threats directed toward you.

“Sergeant Bradford, the weapon was discharged, but the bullet was fired into a tree. CSU will gather data for ballistics,” an officer tells Tim quickly.

His grip tightens on you at the mention of the gunshot, and you sigh against his shoulder. As you lean up, he gets a better look at the bruise under your jaw and the fresh blood pooling against the older, dried blood under your nose. He moves you gently so he can stand and calls for a paramedic.

“Tim, I’m fine,” you say with a painful chuckle.

“Respectfully, I want a second opinion,” he replies. “And then we’re going home.”

“Don’t forget Kojo.”

“I’ll get him.”

“Oh, you may need a key.”

Tim furrows his brows at you but doesn’t ask what you’re talking about as he lowers beside you again. His hand in yours distracts you from the pokes and prods of the paramedics, and your mind is no longer anxious and scared, but excited to go home and remind Tim how much you appreciate his protectiveness.

Tim doesn’t let you out of his sight or his hold from the moment you enter his house. He pulls you against him and sits on the couch, inviting Kojo to join you. You’re finally okay, and it makes it easier for both you and Tim to show the affection you’ve been avoiding.

“I don’t want to be a call away anymore,” Tim confesses softly. “Not a room away… I need to be right beside you.”

“Tim, I only asked for the separation because I had to have it. Thinking that he would come after me was concerning, but the closer I got to you, the more worried I was he’d hurt you, too.”

“I understand that, but it’s over now. So, it’s your choice again.”

You nod and tilt your bruised face up from Tim’s chest to look into his eyes. “I don’t want to be a room away either,” you whisper.

Tim smiles and brushes a gentle thumb over your cheekbone before withdrawing his touch from your face. He kisses you gently, a series of pecks more than a real kiss, before allowing you to move closer.

As you fall asleep in Tim’s arms, you’ve never felt more at home. His touch, his presence, his protectiveness, and his care make him special, and he’s the best roommate-turned-more you could have asked for.

“I love you,” Tim whispers, and you wake up faster than ever.

[hoes4lino]

Poisonous tears

Genre: Angst, fluff & smut | exes to lovers

Word Count: 10.8k

Reading Time: 40 minutes

WARNING ⊂✦⊃ This story contains NSFW / suggestive & angst content and mentions of infertility, alcohol & cigarettes. Minors please don’t interact, please beware of the content you consume online.

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May 8th 2021,

They say that when cats are about to die they run away from their home so that their owners won’t see them die.

In this case, no one is dying, though every day you notice a black stain growing on Minho’s love— as harsh as it sounds.

He would take late night shifts to avoid being on the same bed as you, hanging out more with his friends so he wouldn’t hear your obnoxious voice, he was just barely home nowadays.

He was running away from you, so you wouldn’t notice how the light of his heart was diminishing by the day, perhaps this was his way to protect you from a heart-wrenching heartbreak. Ironic isn’t it?

However, one thing you know about Minho is that even though he might not love you anymore, he would rather walk on fire stones than hurt you. How do you know that? You just know it.

You knew it. You knew something was wrong the moment he told you he was going to be home for dinner.

You knew something was wrong when he suddenly kissed you this morning after weeks of no kisses.

“My feelings for you died” The words repeated over and over again, you felt your gut wrenching in pain as the sudden urge to scream, run and throw up rushed through your whole body, suddenly the air felt too thick to breathe, your skin was icy cold and your lips trembled.

“Oh” is all you said, not even a word just a mere sound ‘Oh’ though it sounded nonchalant deep inside it held all the emotions, the grief you were going through.

You didn’t cry though. He was not worth your tears, thats what you told yourself as you felt the knot in your throat tightening, deep inside you wanted to burst your lungs out crying for him, cling into his leg and tell him you would change.

However crying was useless, it wasn’t going to help you get him back, on the other hand it would make him see you as a weak woman, you didn’t want that.

“Im sorry”

Right. He is still here, he is sitting on the opposite side of the table, eyes watery, head hung down.

You felt the urge to scoff, he was the one ending this long term relationship why is he swallowing tears? That should be you.

The silence that filled the room by the seconds consumed the both of you, the tension was something that couldn’t have been cut with the sharpest knife. You have a million questions but the main one is why? when did all go wrong?

Millions of memories rushed through your mind as your love for Minho was on the verge of life and death, trying to recall the moment where things when downhill.

“Y/n”

Why does his voice still has that soft caring tone when calling your name in this situation? You felt your stomach twirl, your gaze looking up to meet his.

He stays quiet as you both locked eyes for the first time today. Suddenly he ran out of words.

“Please leave” you needed time for yourself, him being here was pointless now, there was no reason. You didn’t wanna hear him anymore, you didn’t want to see him nor breathe the same air as his.

You wanted him to vanish from your life. He stood up and slowly walked away, he hesitated to leave his heart having a million words to tell you, he wanted to clarify that deep down he cared for you. But he knew better.

Little did you knew he would actually vanish from your life.

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July 18th 2021,

After the breakup you felt you were scarred with the deepest wound ever, two months passed and getting up the bed was the hardest task every morning.

Who would say a person could have such impact on you? To be fair you never thought of breaking up with Minho ever since you two began dating during senior year of high school.

I mean every action he did guaranteed you that he was meant to spend the rest of his lifetime with you. Maybe it was because he applied to the same colleges as you to always keep you close, or because you guys discussed your wedding, pregnancy, sex, kisses, undying love. BULLSHIT that’s what it all was.

You found yourself on the floor, greasy hair, puffy eyes, runny nose, pajamas you been wearing for days— takeout boxes laying next to you alongside soju bottles.

What was the point of living if your reason to live is gone? Were you being dramatic? That’s what your friends said… that’s what your mom said… that’s what everybody said.

“You are overreacting”

Maybe you are, maybe you are not, however you don’t care, you don’t care anymore about anything, that’s why you find yourself in this state.

You can’t cry anymore because there’s no more tears to shed, you can’t continue with your daily life because your daily life didn’t exist anymore. So what now? are you supposed to just suck it up? You don’t even remember how your life was before you started dating him.

Five long years of him next to you, now there was nothing. Just an empty heart and poisonous tears that would sting your cheeks.

The ringing of your phone rung on your ears, you groaned as you stood up. You didn’t check the phone, you didn’t care. Instead you sat on your vanity and looked at this version of you, the sad one, the miserable one.

You gaze slowly shifted to the wrinkled Polaroids of you and him that you tried to rip off but couldn’t because your weak. And just like that you felt your wound bleeding again. That hypothetical one, the deep wound of your heart.

Your phone lit up next to you catching your eye. You vaguely grabbed it to see an unknown text pop on your home screen. It was a video.

You furrowed your brows as you open the displayed media. Your phone dropping to the floor as soon as you realized what it was. A sex tape.

Not any sex tape. It was Minho’s with some other girl. Just like that… the wound got deeper. The video clearly shows the girl recording herself sucking him dry. Even if his face wasn’t shown you knew it was him, you knew every inch of his body better than yours. Also with the fact you could hear his soft moans in the back, pet names that used to be yours and only yours being used on some bitch.

Your knuckles turned white, if you said there weren’t more tears to be shed you were wrong. You walked to your kitchen opening the fridge to get a soju bottle. Drinking it one go, you smashed it on the floor, the glass shattered all over the room. Another bottle was opened.

Fuck you Lee Minho, is what your brain screamed while your heart screamed heart wrenching why’s.

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January 1st 2024,

The colorful lights and the loud bangs of the new years fireworks hovered all over your apartment. Another year passed. Another year without him. Its been about 3 years since Minho broke up with you, and honestly you don’t care about it anymore though the pain always lingered.

However you could feel the wound of your old long term relationship healing as the years passed by. You have had no contact with the man you used to love dearly. He vanished from your life, just as you wished the day he broke up with you. Crazy how someone you love can turn into an stranger in mere of seconds.

You took a long drag of your cigarette as you stare at the invitation of a new years party. Scheduled for Jan 8th. You had the feeling he was going to be there since you were invited by Changbin, a mutual friend of yours.

You wanted to go, and not because deep down your heart longed to see him, but because you truly felt like a party was what you needed, it's been a while since you last went to one and had actual fun with friends and new people; However, you hesitate to reply, as you had no clue how you could react if you were to cross paths with him. You still had a bunch of unanswered questions for him and though you craved an answer you needed to move on. His love was dead as much as you were.

The next couple days were filled with crippling anxiety, you hated that after 3 years the thought of him still lingered in your mind. However how could he not? He used to be your world mere years ago.

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January 8th,

You applied your cherry tone lipstick, trying your best to not mess up as your hands trembled. You looked at yourself in the mirror longer than you’ve wished. Your dress was completely neat yet you kept passing your hands over it.

“You got this”

You mumbled as you took another look at yourself, you looked divine, smooth skin, perfect hair and dress that snatched your body perfectly. It was his loss it really was.

The pang of your heart increasing with ever step you to took to the main entrance of the party. As you entered the music automatically ringing in your ears as it progressively got louder the deeper you went inside the house.

“Y/n” You heard a cheerful voice call out for you, it was Changbin alongside with Seungmin. You gave them a sheepish smile. The two boys stared at you reassuringly, they been your friends for so long… they knew.

They knew about the way your stomach twirled and your heart pang with the thought of seeing him and you hated that with your soul.

“Your late, I thought you were going to ditch us” Seungmin said with a warm smile trying to break the tension that was surrounding you.

You chuckled nervously, they know why you late. “Don’t press it Seungmin, she arrived at the best time, everyone is drunk meaning the party is about to get lit” Changbin jumped up and down gaining a glare from the younger one.

You laughed this time sincerely, gaining a bright smile from the boys. “Do you wanna join us at games?” Changbin said and you nodded.

In a place filled with hundreds of people, you are the one my eyes look for every time I look around.

The burning sensation of the tequila hitting your throat made you squint your eyes as hard as you could as you downed your shot refusing to answer the question being asked on the game of truth or dare.

“Would you talk to him if he was here?”

Crazy how a simple hypothetical question made your whole body spin.

You could hear the boys scolding the person who asked the question as you bit onto the lemon. You didn’t wanna play anymore and they knew, but you didn’t want to feed into their perspective of you being a weak woman. So you sucked it up.

Today it seems that they’ve decided to make it a target to get you wasted as all the questions they asked revolved around him, guess that's what you got for making your love for him your whole personality back then.

Chan scolded everyone a million times for bringing him up, however you reassured him it was ok. He knew it wasn’t. Yet he was just as curious as everyone else on why you two broke up. And as painful as it was you didn’t know the answer to most of their questions either.

You excused yourself to go to the bathroom. It wasn’t until you stood up that you realized how drunk you were. “I’ll go with you,” Felix said, ensuring you would make it safely to the bathroom.

The conversation that bloomed between the two of you as you walked to the bathroom was pleasant, maybe it was because of the way he slightly flirted with you or because as you two talked you spotted a pair of eyes looking at the two of you with anger in them.

Fuck you.

Before you could even made it to the bathroom you were pulled into a kiss, not that it was unpleasant, it was unexpected… more like uninvited, you haven’t kissed anyone since Minho.

And not because you couldn’t but because you wanted your first kiss after the breakup to be significant, as significant as the ones you gave Minho during your relationship.

This kiss meant nothing to you, just the desperate desire of love to be loved.

Tears creeped into your eyes as you locked eyes with Minho while Felix’s plump lips were on yours, his hands roaming on your waist. Since when things turned like this? You could see Minho swallowed a lump that formed in his throat.

His eyes looked red-ish, sadness lingering in them. You couldn’t believe it. You didn’t believe his poisonous tears. Fake tears. Same tears you saw the last time you saw him when he broke up with you.

Fuck it.

You closed your eyes and wrapped your arms around the blond boy’s neck. Gaining a soft moan from him, you smirked into the kiss as you opened your eyes again. This time no one was there anymore. The brunette boy was long gone… again.

The wet kisses being placed on your neck and the leg in between your legs was not enough to get him out of your mind, Felix was too drunk to even notice you were standing stiff against the wall with a blank face.

You played with Felix hair as you slowly pushed him away. The freckled boy gave you a sweet smile, the blush of his cheeks rushing to his ears.

“Sorry y/n, I got carried away” His words were sincere and warm, but what can you expect from one of the purest souls you know. You reciprocated his smile and pecked his cheek.

“It's fine lix” You said softly as you walked away. While Felix had a full-on makeout session with you, you made up your mind. And you would face your biggest fear.

Your body walked aimlessly through the crowd of people that filled the house, you tried your best to walk as straight as you could, but those shots of tequila you had while playing truth or dare added a weight to your shoulders. It wasn't until you crashed on a firm body that you snapped out of whatever was on your mind.

Maybe you underestimated the seriousness of the situation once you were face-to-face with him. The whole scene felt like something out of a book, his sharp features looked more prominent under the soft light of the neon lights, the music blasting in your ears and the people that constantly crashed on you as they danced were quickly erased from the face of the earth, as all your attention revolved around him.

“You are drunk” His voice had a cold tone you never heard before, not even when you barely knew each other. You began to understand why people thought of him as a cold person, it was the first time you saw him using his shield on you; just like that the first dagger stabbed your heart.

You scoffed softly as you looked at the floor, taking a deep breath to get your act together, missing the way his gaze was fixated on the hickeys Felix had given you previously, he pressed his tongue against his cheek annoyed at the sight.

“I don't want to talk to you right now" You tried to say firmly, however you could hear your own voice trembling. Minho knew he should have just gone and left you alone but he didn't want to, and as selfish as it sounded he wanted to stick around just so no one else would touch or even look in your direction.

After a while of fighting with his own thoughts, he grabbed your wrist to pull you outside the party "We need to talk" He said as he led you out to the balcony, stopping in his tracks as he felt you trying to pull away.

“Please not now” Your voice cracked, you sounded vulnerable. He could feel his heart dropping to his stomach as he heard your voice, he hated how much he had corrupted your happpiness, he was always aware of your emotional status, maybe he hadn't been present these past three years but he often checked on you, finding himself going to your favorite spots and watch you from afar.

You sucked your breath as you turned around to leave, he knew this wasn’t the moment but while you weren’t looking he took a second to admire your delicate beauty, the one he fell in love with, the one he still loves but it is kept a secret as his emotions are trapped in a bottle deep inside his heart.

“You are drunk” He said as his warm fingertips rubbed around your wrist. You felt an electric shock tensing your muscles. “Call it a night and let me drive you home” You should have said no. That’s what your brain kept telling you, however you didn’t listen. The moment you nodded your head it felt like the biggest betrayal ever.

The ride to your house felt nauseatingly nostalgic, he remembered the shortcuts he used to take, your favorite song playing on the car radio. You were too drunk for this.

As you were getting out of the car, you stumbled making him worried you wouldn’t make it safe to your door. You protested against him, but he wouldn’t budge. Walking you to your apartment, hand on your waist as you grabbed into his shirt for steadiness.

Your heart jolted with joy, the whole scenario that your head was creating was fake but you blamed the alcohol, just enjoy the moment and play pretend.

He helped you enter your apartment, helped you clean up, and gave you pills to prevent the hangover, the whole interaction felt too domestic for a man who became a stranger three years ago. You wonder what he has been up to, and yeah maybe you stalked his social media here and there, but he was too mysterious— there was never something new on there.

“Minho” You said in a soft voice as you struggled to stay awake, his soft gaze looked at you as he sat on the edge next to you, his hand softly caressing your hair “Let's talk… someday” You sounded weak, you hated that.

The last thing you recall before blacking out was a chaste kiss on your cheek that reassured your question.

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January 9th

You woke happier than usual, filled with a lot of energy, you found it odd since you swore you blacked out last night, matter of fact you don’t even remember how you got home.

You did remember your dream vividly though, Minho taking care of you like he used to when you two were dating. Perhaps and that’s why you felt energized, you were unsure of it.

Turning on the shower you took a long steamy shower, today you wanted to feel pretty just like your mood. You even did your hair and makeup, you had nowhere important to go, but you might as well.

Once you were done you walked over to your kitchen, and thats when your heart dropped.

You could smell the fresh aroma of breakfast— walking closer to spotted a plate with french toast and berries, a cup of coffee on the side alongside a note.

“Im writing this since you probably forgot about last night, and before you freak out no we didn’t do anything, sorry I stayed the night, I just wanted to make sure you were ok, here is some breakfast in compensation.

Also lets meet up next week, I’ll send you a text with deets”

- Minho

You could feel your stomach twirling as you read the note. No way what you thought was a dream was actually real.

Honestly, you hoped he would forget about it but it's Lee Minho, something about him is that he never forgets stuff, which was a blessing and a curse considering that he never forgot any detail about you or important dates, however, he never forgot your weakness either.

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February 12th

Minho has been texting you nonstop since that night, often sending good morning texts to check on you, etc. You hated the way you woke up every day with the thought of finding his texts on your phone. His been wanting to meet up with you to have a proper conversation but to be fair you were unsure of it.

"I don't know Chaewon" You groaned as you threw your head against the table, Chaewon laughed softly as she took a sip of her coffee. "Girl look, Im in no position to talk about Minho's business, but I've heard from Jisung that he went through some hard shit even before you two broke up if anything you weren't the only one suffering," Chaewon said as she moved her gaze towards you, your head laying on the coffee table while looking out the window.

"And? I don't care that bitch made me lose myself, he can't just come back whenever he wants to" You said stubbornly standing on your own business "You know that's the biggest cap ever, you do care, and plus who said he wants to go back with you? what if he just wants to talk and finally tell you why he decided to cut off the relationship? Cause you know damn well it wasn't because he didn't love you anymore" You rolled your eyes softly at her remark.

You know she was right and you hated that. "Bitch you are supposed to be on my side, what happened to hater Chaewon?" You said frustrated making her laugh "She died the moment she learned the other side of the story," She said making you scoff "I will never get why you and Jisung refuse to tell me his side of the story"

"Because that's none of our business, Minho should be the one to tell you" You sat up straight on your chair looking defeated "Chaewon..." You spoke softly, "I'm scared" She gave you an encouraging smile "Girl, trust me..." She paused briefly taking a deep breath "The worst thing that can happen if you two meet is him leaving again but this time for good" She then took a sip of her coffee.

"Being honest it all depends on your reaction when he tells you his side of the story, but I must say you two might end up bawling your eyes" Chaewon suddenly laughed when she saw yours eyes widen.

"You'll be fine trust."

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February 14th,

After your little coffee date with Chaewon, you went home and texted Minho that you were ready to meet up and talk in person, however, should you find it suspicious that after a month of casual contact since the New Year's party, he suddenly texted you on Valentine's Day that he would drop by your house? Yes.

You were sitting on your living room couch as you re-read the text over and over, did he mean today? now? You quickly got up and rushed to your room to get ready, however, you stopped. Should you look casual? yeah, it might be Valentine's Day but he is not your date.

After sitting on the floor with a bunch of clothing options you decided to not think much about it, I mean yeah it's Valentine's Day but it's also February 14th, just another date on the calendar.

You wore your favorite pair of new balances, black track pants, and a cute crop top along with all your jewelry, like you said it's just another date on the calendar, therefore, you dressed casually. Just another day.

You arrived to the cafe downstairs your apartment. You immediately spotted him, baggy jeans with a black hoodie with the picture of a cat. Great, he was also dressed casually. Just another day.

“Hey” you said softly as you scooted on the chair in front of him. It would be weird to say this wasn’t awkward however it really wasn’t, and that just made you more uneasy about this whole interaction.

He looked up from his phone to look at you, and he smiled softly. In all honesty, it was hard for him to be here for so many reasons, and this is the main reason why he fought with himself this morning to come here and not ditch you.

Before the breakup, Minho was going through some issues on his own, which would eventually evolve to be the main reason why he left you. He knew he would hurt you sooner or later, so he decided to do it quick, leaving the situation as vague as possible as his heart imposed him from opening up to you.

“I'm sorry it took me so long to come back and clear things up” Although he sounded nonchalant you could see the pain in his eyes, maybe Minho was never open with his feelings but his eyes always spoke what he felt.

“Being honest, I couldn’t bring myself to face you, Jisung basically smacked some sense into me” He smiled awkwardly "Plus when I saw you at Binnie's party I felt it was time to stop running away" There was tension surrounding both you that made it hard to breathe.

“It’s fine… have you tried the pudding here?” Maybe you knew he was here to tell you something, but you also knew the knot in his throat was making it hard for him, so you chose to break some of the tension. Just another day.

Thinking about it, it’s kinda ironic how forgiving you are of him, he left you with no explanation, made you lose yourself and on top of that he never dared to show up again after three years and no. The cherry on top is the sex tape you have engraved deep down on your brain of him and some other bitch.

You could feel the rage boiling inside of you, but you quickly shrugged it off as he began speaking “I haven’t…” He was hesitant with his answer, something tells you that he has tried it before but he wanted to pleasure you by pretending he didn't.

You just nod as you suggest he try it, and once the waiter comes around to pick up your order, he gives you a vague smile as he orders for both of you.

Just another day. You have been sitting in this cafe with him just talking about life as if you are back in time and you two are together again. It’s smooth and pleasant, there's chuckles here and there. However, he is not talking. He is not addressing the big elephant in the room and it's bothering you, however, you stood quiet, waiting for him to feel ready.

“This might be weird, but you think he could keep talking in your apartment? I kinda want a more private place” He has always been a confident man, and you know that, however, he sounds weak and insecure, completely opposite of who he is.

Maybe and the break up also made him lose himself? Little did you know he lost himself way back before the breakup.

Once in your apartment he sat on your living room as you poured some wine for both of you, after a while of thinking you figured some alcohol would help him loose his tongue and speak fearlessly to you.

“Thanks” He muttered, immediately taking a sip of the wine. “To be fair what I’m about to tell you is not easy for me, but I know you want answers and I want to help you find them as much as I can” His voice was sincere, soft, and vulnerable, you could feel a squeeze in your heart.

“I won’t pressure you into talking” Although you tried to sound sincere and gentle, the hidden anger inside of you was slightly present in your tone. You hated yourself for being bad at hiding it.

He chuckled softly at your tone, he knew you were mad at him and so was he "I sound like a hypocrite I know, I broke up with you yet I'm the one making a big deal to just clear things up" The room was quiet for a moment, it felt cozy, the gentle sunlight from the sunset hovering over the living room, the soft breeze of spring moving the dried trees with flower buds on them, but most importantly he was there. After three years, there he sat on your couch, you wondered if he noticed you changed it, you wondered if he noticed that you changed it because of him.

His soft sigh broke the silence and darted your attention to him, he fidgeted nervously with his fingers as he kept his gaze on the window. "Do... Do you remember our life plan" You knew words had power but you never realized how much power they had. Your stomach twirled in anxiety at the memories.

The sweet memories of him and you cuddling in bed some Tuesday afternoon as you both made life plans. You nodded, biting your lip as the urge to cry became present. "How could I forget, we planned to live in a peaceful neighborhood, adopt a few cats, and raise our children with love and virtue" You chuckle softly attempting to cut whatever tension was forming in the room.

At the sound of your soft laugh, he smiled melancholically "The day we talked about our kids, made me realize how much I wanted to be a father... especially with you" He took a deep breath and your eyebrows furrowed as you listened to him.

"I... I really wanted to be a father" His voice cracks softly as his words hold an incredible amount of weight on him "So I went to my doctor to have my annual check-ups" A knot began to form on your throat as you began predicting where this was going.

"He... he told me I can't have kids" His voice broke into soft sobs "I wanted to tell you about it, but seeing how in love you were with the idea of having a baby... I couldn't... so I kept it to myself" He stood quiet as he tried to get himself together.

"My emotions eventually began fogging my brain, and I felt I had to distance myself to prevent hurting you... however, seeing how happy you were every time you saw me after days of me treating you like shit made me resent you" His voice raised with each word we spoke as his emotions began overwhelming him.

"I didn't resent you because I was mad at you, but because you still loved me after the way I treated you during our last weeks of dating" You looked at him with teary eyes while he still refused to look at you "I didn't deserve your love, yet you never stopped loving me... and I never stopped loving you either..." The silence in the room felt deafening, there were so many things you had to process, many things to take into consideration. He then grabbed the courage to move his gaze towards yours, your lips half parted in shock as the sudden confession made you feel dizzy.

"Minho... I..." You were at a loss for words, so many things to say but nothing was coming out, a single tear fell down your cheeks, your conversation with Chaewon repeating in your head, she was right both of you were about to bawl your eyes out.

"Why you never told me?" You quickly wiped the tear that rolled down your cheek, you were tired of crying for this man, you were tired of everything "Because I was scared of losing your love y/n" He screamed at you making you lose your patience.

"That's the stupidest thing I have ever heard Minho" You screamed back but then took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down, however, you failed. "Do you know how many nights I cried for you? The amount of times I wondered what was wrong with me? You hurt me and left me, like you didn't care and you expect me to believe this was your reason? Because you can't have stupid babies?" You stopped at your last sentence when you realized what you said, you let your anger control your words and now unconsciously you stabbed a knife into Minho's wound.

He looked unfazed by your words, again he was using the mask everyone talked about, the one that never let anyone see his emotions, however, you didn't miss the way his lips slightly curled up, that's how you knew it deeply hurt him.

He scoffed softly "Stupid babies?" He laughed "I guess I lost myself over something you didn't really care about" He stood up from the couch and looked at you one more time "Sorry for wasting your time" You quickly stood up to stop him from leaving but words didn't leave your mouth as you blankly stared at him storming out your house.

"The worst thing that can happen if you two meet is him leaving again but this time for good"

Chaewon's words stroke your heart as you are left alone in your apartment.

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March 18th

"How many times do I've to tell you, I won't talk to him again" You groaned as a very exasperated Jisung paced in circles in your living room "C'mon y/n, you have to admit that what you crossed the line, I mean I understand the anger but really? did you not hear what he was telling you?" Honestly, at that moment, you felt you could smack Jisung in the face.

This past week was filled with a bunch of guilt trips not only by your friends but also by yourself "You know what Ji?" You said bluntly "I'm tired. Tired of everything, why am I suddenly the bad guy? Why does it feel like my side of the story is being invalidated?" You could feel tears creeping in your eyes.

Jisung sat down next to you as he took a deep breath "I'm sorry..." He said softly "It's just... I've seen both of you hurting for so long, I just want for both of you to finally clear things out" You understood Jisung's point, he was your and Minho's friend, he knew both points of view perfectly and you never really thought how that might of been a weight for him too.

"I get it... I also wish we could talk things out but... it's hard you know?, we both got our own wounds and it's hard to talk without making one of them bleed" You took a deep breath "That's the most poetic shit I've heard in a while" You couldn't help but laugh at his statement, nudging his shoulder playfully "Shut the fuck up" He laughed along with you.

"You think he would let me talk to him?" You said as you both stopped laughing "It would be a hard task but not impossible, his soft spot for you is one of the most loyal things I've seen" You smiled softly at his remark.

"You know... I've got an idea... so next week the 24th I have to take care of my baby nephews, however, that same day I got a final, I was going to make Minho babysit them for me, but to be fair he will definitely need help" You squinted your eyes at his suggestion "I don't know Ji..." He was quick to interrupt you "Shshshs don't say a single word you are babysitting with him"

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March 24th

Jisung left the house a couple of minutes ago, he reassured you that Minho was on his way and that he knew about it. You sat down on the play mat with the two baby twins, they were 2 and a half years old and truly a menace, they wouldn't stop moving around and crawling to be on top of you.

Although you felt overwhelmed it felt nice, playing with them made you forget about Minho and your current situation, you had one of the babies in your arms while the other one showed you some toys and spoke nonsense, you chuckled as you pretended to understand what he was saying.

When Minho entered the house, you were completely unaware of him as he stood at the entrance of the living room looking at you, looking at how domestic you looked with the babies. He couldn't help but fantasize if this is what it would feel like if he were to come home to you with your own babies.

He hated the way butterflies would rush down his body to his... 'Get it together Minho' He scolded himself, he was supposed to be mad at you not feel this way.

"You are not Chan" He finally spoke making himself present, you and the babies fixated your gaze on him and he could feel his heart melting "Huh? Jisung told me you knew you were babysitting with me" You said slightly confused.

"He lied then, he told me Chan was helping me out with the kids" You nodded awkwardly making a mental note to smack Jisung's face later. Although the tension between you and Minho was prominent, the babies made sure to keep both of you busy, constantly crying because they were hungry, needed a change of diapers, wanted attention, etc.

Both of you sat down on the couch exhausted when you managed to get them to sleep, the silence felt nice after all the noise that came from the babies, and you sighed softly "I'm sorry" it was unexpected, you didn't expect yourself to say it, it just came out, it was sincere and you hoped Minho knew.

"Sorry for what?" He said genuinely confused making you raise an eyebrow as you moved your gaze to meet his "You know... for what I said the other day, I didn't mean it I was-" He cut off your words as he chuckled softly.

"Don't worry about it, your reaction was totally valid, I mean I understand why you were mad, it's fine, you did nothing wrong" His words felt like a bandaid being placed in your heart, these past weeks you were convinced you were the bad guy, your friends reminding you your lack of understanding towards him, yet here he was all chill about and validating your feelings, it was just what you needed to hear.

You smiled warmly at him, glad he was able to see the situation from both perspectives, you envied the way he was so mature about it. "Still it was not nice the way I acted, It was immature and I know you, I know you got mad" He nodded in response "I did, and I won't lie I am still a bit salty but I understand your anger I do"

You chuckled softly and bit your lip not sure if you wanted to say this but you eventually got the courage to say it "I didn't know you really wanted to be a father" You said softly trying not to cross any boundaries "It was just a silly dream" He said making you shake your head immediately "It's not silly... You would be the perfect father" You said reassuringly.

"Bullshit" He said in a playful tone making you scoff "Bullshit? I don't know how the hell you managed to put those babies to sleep" You chuckled softly making him smile, his heart beating faster than usual at your compliment.

"Well even if I do have the potential to be a good father— I can't have babies" You noticed the way his voice cracked softly as he said those words, although he was smiling you knew those words were like daggers to his heart. "Bullshit" You said in a confident tone, he moved his gaze back to yours and raised an eyebrow "Bullshit? The doctor said-" You interrupted him before he could "Who cares what the doctor says? don't you know about rainbow babies?"

He was quiet for a while, his gaze focused on yours "We... we never tried to have one... what if" It was his turn to interrupt you "I'm tired of the 'what if' y/n" He sounded defeated and you hated that, this was not the confident man you knew.

"I'm serious though, I never knew you actually wanted to have a baby, if you had discussed it with me we could have gone to an endocrinologist and seen our options... it's not impossible Min..." You sounded frustrated making him sigh "I'm sorry for not telling you it's just, that I was too overwhelmed" He stopped talking when he felt your hand on top of his, he looked down to see them and then up at you.

A single tear rolled down his cheek as regret filled his head, regret of not telling his issue before, regret of closing up to you, when all he needed to heal was you, your reassurance, your love, and your understanding.

You both stood quiet as his tears began falling, you couldn't bare see him like this so you moved to hug him. Once his body was fully engraved on your warm embrace he began crying harder, his tears soaking down on your shirt, but you didn't care. You were finally there for him, something he restricted from himself out of pure spite.

A couple hours passed and the babies woke up again, you and Minho were playing with the kids while both of you also caught up with life, it felt nice, the tension that felt suffocating was finally released.

"Pause... So that video you sent me way back, wasn't you?" He shook his head as he played kitchen with the baby girl "This bitch blackmailed me, a month after we broke up Jisung took me to a stripper club and I might've vented to one of the strippers...." He said embarrassed as you played cars with the baby boy "Tell me the name of the strip club" You said coldly making him laugh.

"Don't worry Chaewon already dealt with her" His remark made you laugh so hard you could barely breathe. The remaining time you both stood at Jisung's house playing with the babies and talking felt nice, way more nicer than it should.

It honestly was impressive how despite the difficulties you both went through, that connection you both had never faded. Once Jisung was back home he couldn't help but smile as he saw both of you getting along.

Both of you served as bandaids to cure each other's wounds.

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March 28th

"How many times do I have to tell you it's not a date?" You told Chaewon who was on the other side of your speaker "Yeah, sure" She said in a mocking tone "Two exes going out for dinner as friends my ass" You couldn't help but laugh softly "You are insufferable" You said making her giggled.

"Says the girl who called me asking me for fashion advice for her D-A-T-E" You rolled your eyes at her remark "It's not a date!" You said frustrated as you finished putting on your dress that hugged your curves perfectly and complimented your eyes and hair.

"Yeah, Yeah, Just remember to wrap it before you tap it," Chaewon said jokingly but her comment made your stomach twirl in anticipation of something occurring tonight.

"Girl- goodbye" You said hanging up the phone before she could finish whatever the hell she was going to say next. Minutes felt like hours and you could feel anxiety rushing through you, you shouldn't be this nervous... after all it's just a friend's hangout. Right? However, waiting for him to text you felt like torture.

The sudden knock on your door took you by surprise, a shiver traveling down your spine as you took a deep breath. He was here, the amount of happiness swirling in your head felt nauseating. You thought he was going to call you to come down, but of course, he had to be the gentleman he is and personally escort you to the car.

The moment you opened the door he felt butterflies rushing down his stomach as he saw you, you looked beautiful, you truly had no idea how much he had missed you. This was supposed to be a casual hangout but the way your long-sleeved dress hugged your waist and fell free at your hips. Made his heart flutter and wish this was a date instead.

"Hey" He said with a shy smile, softly scratching his neck. You swallowed the urge to chuckle at his shy demeanor, it reminded you back to when he first approached you.

"Hey" You replied cheerfully making him smile, you could feel your own nervousness leaving as you realized he was in your same position. Minho and you decided to do some errands first before going to the movies, the car ride was surprisingly pleasing, you both seemed to have so much to talk about. The soft music playing in the background as you casually averted your eyes from him to the window as he spoke.

You weren't quite sure what exactly he was saying, but the melody of his voice was welcomed by your ears. The first stop was the pet shop, while Minho made his way to the cat section to buy his cat's food, you took a turn to see the little animals, your heart melting at the sight of the lovely animals on display. As you read the description of each animal, you couldn't understand how a human out there would purposely abandon such cuties.

Maybe you were too invested in the animals you didn't notice him calling your name, it wasn't until you felt a warm hand on your back and butterflies rushing down your stomach that you turned around to meet his eyes. "All done?" You asked as you looked at his hand that was carrying the cat food. "Yup" He said with a smile "No toys for the babies?" You asked playfully, however his heart skipped a beat at the question, making him wonder why he felt like this.

"They already have enough," He said with a chuckle as you squinted your eyes and shook your head "They deserve to be spoiled, but you are their father so whatever" You giggled as you both walked to the cashier. Again Minho wondered why his heart kept missing a beat with each word you spoke.

He wasn't expecting anything from tonight, he truly just wanted to spend time with you after so long, make your relationship better... as friends of course, but the more he interacted with you the more desperate his heart turned for you.

The moment you both sat in the movie theater it was an instant regret for Minho to have suggested it. Memories flooded both of your minds as you both sat next to each other. MInho cleared his throat and looked at you. "Popcorn?" He offered you with a thin smile, you wanted to laugh at that moment, if he was trying to make the situation less awkward he was failing to do so.

"No, I'm fine" You said in a soft whisper as the movie began. The whole time you couldn't really focus on whatever movie was on display, your gaze kept averting to his hand that rested on his leg. You hated yourself for wishing his hand was on your leg instead.

Take it slow.

You kept reminding yourself, this was a hangout as friends nothing more, it hurts slightly the thought of it, but after the complicated situation you both faced this past years, it was better to take things slow, who knows maybe you both will end up together? maybe not? whatever destiny the world was for you both.

Minho didn't know if he was tripping or not but he swore he could see you looking at his hand, to be fair he wasn't paying attention to the movie either he was too focused looking at your every move with his peripheral vision. he thought you might be cold as your legs were exposed to the theater air conditioner, so he took his jacket off and gently placed it on your legs.

The action took you by surprise the warm jacket on your legs did feel nice, and as he placed it on you, you could smell his scent all over you, how much have you missed that scent. You leaned closer to him, your breath hitting his cheek as you spoke a soft "Thank you"

That moment felt like pure temptation to Minho, they say God likes to test his strong soldiers, however, Minho was 100% sure he was not his strongest soldier when it came to you.

Soft moans echoed in the theater, both of your bodies stiffened as a sex scene came up, honestly what's the deal with movie franchises adding unnecessary sex scenes in their movies? Can we talk about it? At that moment you could feel a tension forming between both of you, was it awkwardness, or was it a hidden desire? You don't know but you closed your legs together trying to stop any lustful thoughts from popping on your mind.

You noticed the way he shifted on his seat awkwardly, looking at his phone to check the weather, you chuckled to yourself, feeling playful you leaned to tease him "Can't handle a sex scene hm?" You chuckle softly, he moves his gaze from his phone to look at you. His desire woke up with each word you said.

You were going to tease him? two can play that game, was it a dangerous move? maybe, but fuck it, let the night take whatever route it wants.

He turned to face you and leaned closer, his face just inches away from yours, you took a second to admire his eyes and features, you never forgot how handsome this man was from up close. "It's not that I can't handle the scene, I just can't handle my inner thoughts" The tone and the look he gave you was more than enough to let you know what he was thinking.

You were both on the same page. Involuntarily you squeezed your thighs together, he noticed, his eyes looking down at your covered legs, he smirked making you nudge his shoulder "Focus on the movie" You scolded him as you turned your attention back to the movie, not missing the way butterflies twirled around stomach and the evident heat on your cheeks.

The ride to your house was quiet, there was a tension lingering in there, but unlike the heavy uncomfortable one, this one was a little more light-headed, more enticing. Your footsteps were the only sound echoing through the hallway to your apartment, he followed behind you, he wasn't too close but he was close enough for you to feel his warmth and presence.

When you opened the door you turned to look at him, the silence felt deafening, both of you stared at each other, you didn't miss the way his eyes slightly moved to get a glimpse of your lips. You were both desperate to feel each other, that was no secret, but who would make the first move? most importantly was it the right time to make a move?

Your thoughts were interrupted when his hand flew to your waist and pushed you closer to his body, his lips crashing against yours. You felt on cloud 9, suddenly everything felt more vivid you could swear hearts and stars were flying around you both.

His soft plump lips felt as if a feather was brushing against your lips, it felt tender, full of love yet you wanted more, you needed more. When he moved his lips away from yours a soft whine escaped your lips, making you embarrassed.

Although he wanted to laugh his worries took over him, he looked at your eyes for ay sign of discomfort, maybe even regret but he saw none. "I'm sorry, I know its too soon-" His words were interrupted as you placed a finger on his lips.

"Too soon?" Maybe it was soon but to be fair you have been waiting for this kiss for some time now, so yeah maybe it was soon, but rhetorically it wasn't, you waited long enough. And if he feels the same way you do, what is really stopping you?

"Min..." He felt his breath hitching at how lovely his nickname escaped your lips, it's been so long since he last heard it... it felt nostalgic. "I'm not sure if it's too soon for you, but to be honest I've waited long enough for that kiss" Before you had the chance to say another word, his lips were on yours again, and this time he pushed your body inside your apartment and closed the door behind, his lips not daring to leave yours in case you realized you didn't want this.

As the kiss progressed you could feel your knees turning weak, the way he caressed your waist while his other hand was on your cheek was enough to send you down a spiral, however when you felt his warm tongue brushing against your bottom lip, desperately asking for access inside your mouth was when you lost it.

He groaned softly as his tongue danced with yours, you began feeling light-headed, maybe it was because of lack of air but you didn't care you didn't want to leave his lips.

"Y/n..." He said in a pleading tone as he panted for air once the kiss broke, his eyes looked darker than normal yet they looked tender, his body was still pressed against yours, his hand moving up and down your sides. "I need you" Your heart dropped as your blood rushed through your body. This night was going to take a different route.

You were currently leaning back against the wall while he left a trail of wet pecks on your neck, your body shivered as the delicate kisses fogged your mind, it was a sensation you couldn't really describe. A groan left your lips as he nibbled on the soft spot you used to love, he remembered. "Aren't you getting greedy?" Although you wanted to tease him your voice was shaky, too high in the ecstasy of having his lips attached to your neck.

"I'm sorry princess, you have no idea how bad I'm craving you" He said in a low tone as he nibbled your lobe, your eyes closed shut and a soft whimper was heard, he pressed his body harder against yours, too desperate and touched deprived for you. "Fuck" He mumbled when his erection brushed against your crotch, your dress rolling up as he grinded on your vaguely.

The wave of wetness that pools between your thighs immediately soaks your underwear. It takes every bit of your lingering self-control to not moan at the sensation.

Even so, the desire and lust took over your body with each minute passing, his hands traveled up and down your legs, pausing to lift and wrap your leg around his hip. So this is what heaven feels like. It's been so long since you last felt like this. You nearly moaned as you felt his erection pushing against your pelvis.

His face was at the crook of your neck as his desperate whimpers traveled through your body. "Oh fuck—" Your mind went blank, losing yourself at the delight of his touch you began whimpering.

"Can we go to my room?" You hid your face when he shifted to look at you, too shy to look him in the eyes. It's been so long since you both were intimate, yet you never lost that alluring presence that hypnotized Minho every time.

"Whatever my princess desires" He said softly as he looked down at you, your soft blush and trembling body, the way your dress was messy because of how desperate he was touching you, sent a rush of heat down his dick.

He grabbed you bride-style as he walked to your room, opening the door your sweet scent embraced his nose, he was getting drunk on you. He gently placed you down on the bed, the fairy lights of your room plus the soft moonlight that crept through the windows added to the vibe going on.

You could see his sharp features as he hovered on top of you, he moved your hair gently out of your face and giggled "I've missed you" he said in a tender tone before he leaned to leave pecks all over your face, you giggled along him until his lips crashed on yours.

The kiss was slow yet passionate, taking your time to taste each other properly, the string of saliva created wet sounds that echoed in the room, he took this time that you were distracted as an opportunity to spread your legs with his hand, his soft fingertips leaving ghostly touches all over your legs and inner thighs.

Three years and he still knew how to get you ready for him, although you had been ready ever since you two started making out at your front door. He broke the kiss to move down your body, his intense gaze never leaving yours, as he began kissing your legs, in a painfully slow rhythm, he knew what he was doing, he wanted to get you all needy for him.

However, he was also making this hard for himself, as he was also getting impatient, he moved back up so he could nibble on your neck, soft moans escaping your lips, making a sweet melody for his ears. His body involuntarily pressed against yours Yours and his moans bleed into one another as your clothed cores come into contact. Minho's fingers tightened on your leg, it was definitely gonna bruise overnight.

You wonder if he can feel the extent of your wetness against the front of his jeans, as your dress had rolled up and you were basically on just your panties, all thoughts are chased away when he drags his finger on top of your drench mound. "Fuck princess" He hisses, his hand beside your head tightening into a fist, his face pressed against your neck "Feeling how wet your pussy is for me is making it hard for me to just not cum" How you loved the chokehold you had on this man right now.

His words only motivate your intentions, thrusting your hips into his fingers, desperate to create some type of friction. Seeking more leverage, you wrapped your legs around his waist pressing him against your clothed cunt. His face traveled down your collarbone sucking and biting on it as he hand massaged your breasts.

"Fine. I’ll give you what you want” He said breathlessly as he sat to take his pants off, your gaze never left his as you admired his body, he was indeed the man of your dreams, you pressed your thighs together and bit your lip.

A loud moan escaped your lips when his tip tap on your clothed cunt. He moved it up and down your drenched panties to coat his dick with your arousal. You both breathed heavily at the sensation. He looked at you for reassurance, his priority was your comfort and that made him even hotter at that moment, you nodded your head and smiled at him, letting him know that you wanted this as much as him.

He teased you by gliding his hands up and down your inner thighs but not touching your cunt, when your moans got desperate, he moved his index finger up and down your slit, he then used that finger to move your panties aside, he felt his cock twitching at the sight of your wet pussy.

He leaned closer to blow on it and then gave it a kiss "I missed what mine" He said possessively as he bit your inner thigh, you moaned at that, you felt loved something you hadn't felt in quite some time.

The way your warm cunt clenched on his tip was making it hard for him to go slow, he wanted to go slow and stretch you out properly since you didn't let him give your foreplay due to your impatience. But how could he restrain himself when your hand is playing with your clit in front of him?

And oh god you were indeed the devil because of the way you desperately moaned his name so he would go all in, if it wasn't for your greediness he would have done way more than just put his cock deep inside you, but he couldn't say no to you, not when you have full control of his body and mind.

The lewd sounds embraced the room, the sloppy sound of your arousal and the thump of his pelvis hitting yours turning both of you even more. His lips crashed into yours as he felt his cock deep inside your wall, he kissed you passionately, his hand leaving a feather touch on your leg.

Although everything felt so sudden, it felt right. The passion the lust everything. It felt like the best timing despite the previous circumstance, lord how badly you missed him, and not only for his cock but for the way he always made you feel like a princess, you were his queen.

It wasn’t until his kisses got sloppier that you knew he was close to cum, you grabbed his hair and squeezed it tightly as your back arched, the feeling of his cock twitching was sending you to cloud 9 and it made your mind blank as moans left your mouth shamelessly.

If you thought he couldn’t go any deeper you were wrong. His dick rubbed that spot that’s been getting teased for a while now. He pressed his hand on your stomach just so he could see how deep his dick was inside you. And oh lord the sight of his dick drove him to the edge.

You both cling to one another as your high approach one after another. Minho's groan triggered a release that spilled white-hot bliss through your veins. The feeling of your cunt clenching around him made you pant for air, you both stayed still for some minutes.

He then began kissing your neck again which made you chuckle, as you moved to play with his hair. "Can we start over?" His voice was shaky, you could tell the question triggered some anxiety in him, you moved your hand to caress his neck to soothe his nerves.

"Asking me that while I'm cock warming you is crazy" You tease him making him groan "I'm serious... I want to take you out on dates again, I need you in my life again" His words triggered something inside you making you clench your cunt, he moaned as he was still sensible, making you blush embarrassed "Sorry" You mumbled making him laugh.

"I'll take that as a yes" He said making you laugh, his lips attaching to yours once again. "How about we do a round two but you let me see them..." He stopped talking to squeeze your breast, you chuckled playfully as you pecked his lips.

"Anything my prince desires" You said before wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing his lips. Time might've separated the two of you, but the bond you both had was stronger than any misunderstanding.

[noodle-is-unstable]

How the JJK Characters react to your slutty costume

(Head Cannons/Drabbles)

Ft ~ Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Kento Nanami, Toji Fushiguro, Ryoumen Sukuna, Choso, Takuma Ino, Shiu Kong, Uraume, Yuki Tsukumo, Shoko Ieiri, Mahito

Synopsis ~ How the JJK Characters react to you in a slutty costume just before you're supposed to go to a party

Content Warning ~ 18+, dress up, roleplay. Idk adult stuff

Gojo ~

Angewomon (Digimon)

First Sight: His jaw would drop and he'd be speechless, which is rare for him. His hands would get sweaty as he opened and closed his mouth like a fish, baffled by the sight in front of him.

Go Party or Stay Home: Would BEG you to stay home, not because he didn't want people to see you dressed up but because he REALLY wants you back in the bedroom. You'll end up going

"I can't decide if i want to rip that costume off or savor every sweet second you're in it." Gojo spoke breathlessly. You quite literally took his breath away and left him stunned.

"Why not fuck me in the costume now and rip it off after the party?" You playfully swayed.

"Oh god I love you!" Gojo groaned before grabbing your hand to drag you back into the bedroom. You'd be late to the party and probably a little disheveled, but you'd make it. You'll also be leaving early

Geto ~

Demon

First Sight: Groans. Literally lets air escape his lips as blood rushes to his cock. It's instantaneous. He can't take his eyes off your ass

Go Party or Stay Home: You're going to the party. He's absolutely bringing you to parade you around and show you off

Geto grabbed your arm and pulled you into the small bathroom.

"Sugar bear." You laughed but tried to keep your voice down.

"Sorry Angel, or should i say devil?" Geto's lips were already on your neck. "I just can't wait until we get back home."

Nanami ~

Cheerleader

First Sight: Swallows hard and immediately feels like a little emo virgin again. You always made him a little nervous but dressed like that has him sweating bullets and stuttering

Go Party or Stay Home: You're going to the party to at least make an appearance but you will be leaving early

"You always say I'm your number one cheerleader, right?" You smirked, shaking your pom poms at Nanami.

"U-um yeah, you are darling. It's j-just. wow." Nanami mumbled out. It was rare he would trip on his words so you know you did good.

"Come on, we have a party to go to and you have a date with a cheerleader." You giggle before grabbing his hand

Toji ~

Sexy Cop

First Sight: Confused but very amused. Can't help but eye up the shiny handcuffs you're swinging around

Go Party or Stay Home: You barely make it out of the bedroom. No one saw you at the party and it was because you were busy all night

"Did I do something, officer?" Toji mused with a scarred smirk.

"I'm afraid so, and I'm going to have to take you in. All of you in." You purred, twirling the cuffs around. Toji just put his hands out for you to cuff before you dragged him back into the bedroom

Sukuna ~

Minx (Animal)

First Sight: Confused. Why were you an animal? But the second you told him you were a Minx, HIS minx, he was a goner

Go Party or Stay Home: Party? What party? You never even left the room

"Don't you get it? I'm a Minx. You know, like what you always call me?" You laughed and swung your tail around playfully.

"Ah my minx. If only you knew what you did to me." Sukuna's voice was low, eyes dark with want.

"Yeah? Why not show me?" You purred out before he tackled you with his entire bodyweight

Choso ~

Ghost Face

First Sight: He doesn't know why but he is absolutely turned on. Was it the mask? The tight outfit? Or the fact you watched the movie the night before?

Go Party or Stay Home: You go to the party but Choso is following and drooling over you the entire time

"Can we please go home now?" Choso pulled desperatly at your robe.

"Tell you what, why don't you go home and hide, and I'll find you. I'll give you a five minute head start." You whispered into his ear. He couldn't even muster words because he was already heading home

Ino ~

Sexy Nanami

First Sight: Confused. Ino's always a little slow on the uptake though. The spotted yellow tie didn't give it away. It wasn't the tan suit jacket that barely covered your chest or the blue, skin tight shorts. No, it was when you pulled out a replica of Nanami's weapon that it clicked for him.

Go Party or Stay Home: You go to the party, purposely wanting to fluster Ino. Ino was ready to die from embarrassment or maybe all his blood running to his dick when Nanami saw you

"Babe, his eyes almost blew out of his head." Ino whined, hiding his face in your neck.

"And you almost blew your load." You chuckle, stroking his hair

Shiu ~

Nascar Driver

First Sight: Amused. Your tight racing gear left little to the imagination, not that he needed to imagine it.

Go Party or Stay Home: You had no plans to go to the party in the first place and made sure to seduce Shiu so you didn't have to go

"Didn't think you were into racing, Doll." Shiu leaned back more in his chair, taking in the view that was you.

"Can't say I am, But i do know i want to take you for a drive." You licked your lip.

"That so? Then hop on and show me how your engine purrs."

Uraume ~

Viking

First Sight: Is stunned. Seeing you with a fur cape, braided hair and an axe left them in a quiet awe

Go Party or Stay Home: You were dragging them to a party because you wanted to show them off. You're prized Uraume that everyone needed to know was yours

"Can we go home now?" Uraume's voice came out meek and small.

"Why, want me to pillage you." You wink, their cheeks turning crimson.

"We should go home now." A smile tugged at their lips

Yuki ~

Bunny

First Sight: Is IMEDIATLY ready to take you. Has to stop herself from tackling you, not that you'd mind

Go Party or Stay Home: You aren't going to the party. Yuki never planned on going even if you did

"Are you my little Playboy Bunny?" Yuki bit her lip, taking in your skimpy outfit.

"I can be, want me to bounce on you until easter?" You winked and stuck out your tongue. That's all you had to say before Yuki was groaning and dragging you back into the bedroom

Shoko ~

Nurse/Doctor

First Sight: Can't stop smiling, mainly because you stole her clothes and tools for your costume

Go Party or Stay Home: You'll go to the party and pretend to be Shoko the entire time. She's more than happy to show you off and entertain you though

"Are you feeling okay?" You ask, looking at Shoko with consern.

"I'm fine, why?" She looked at you confused.

"Because you're looking really hot and like you need a check-up." You wink and blow her a kiss.

"You're so stupid." She laughed. "Let's go home so you can make sure I'm okay."

Mahito ~

Scarecrow

First Sight: Doesn't understand but is excited about your matching stitch marks

Go Party or Stay Home: You'll make him come to the party with you. You like teasing him and making him wait

"Why do you have those marks?" Mahito looked at the stitches you drew on, ones that matched his.

"They're for my costume, I'm a scarecrow, so we can match. Though I suppose you're closer to a puppet." You chuckle.

"What does that mean?" Mahito tilted his head.

"Don't worry about it Rabbit, lets go."