#surprise! I’m crying over fictional men again!

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Running from the Flames {20}

Pairing: Pierre Gasly x OFC

Warnings: 18+ only, smut - this is a work of fiction and the events are not based on reality.

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“Just in here,” I said as I pointed Pierre to the driveway that led to mum and dad’s estate and turned the music down. “Thank god, I don’t think I could have listened to any more Disney songs. You do know you can say no to her, right?”

Pierre smirked into the rearview mirror as he looked at Addie nodding along to How Far I’ll Go from Moana. “I know, but why would I?”

“She has you so wrapped around her little finger.”

He parked my car in front of the house and before he even turned off the engine my mum was rushing out with a big grin on her face. “My babies,” she gasped as she threw the back door open and saw Addie reaching out for her. “Look how you have grown, chiquita. I missed you so much.”

We spent the afternoon enjoying the warm weather in the pool and it was nice to have a moment alone with Pierre while Addie splashed with mum and dad in the shallows. Mum had given us an update on what Trent had wanted for the settlement and he had been quieter than usual after hearing the conditions.

“You’re far too pretty to pout so much,” I teased as I climbed on his back and wrapped my legs around him, the warm water gently lapping around us. “What’s on your mind, handsome?”

He pulled me around his body and so I was facing him before taking a seat in front of one of the jets. “An exposé?”

“You saw the questions, there’s nothing really substantial to them.” I shrugged and picked up the gold cross that rested against his chest so my hands were busy. I wasn’t entirely comfortable with the idea of an interview either but if it meant my freedom to travel with Pierre then I would do it. “I would have rather it been done sooner so I could go to Paris with you but having it primetime on a Sunday night is another strategy of his I’m sure.”

“If I didn’t have to go you know I’d be there with you.” Pierre sighed but there was no escaping the testing that he needed to do with his car before they left for Canada. It was being rebuilt from the chassis up after the crash but once it was ready he would need to run it in so the fine tuning and adjustments could be made. “The brakes had better be fixed this time.”

“I’ll be having a word with them if they aren’t. If not, I apparently have a good right hook.”

Pierre tipped his head back with a laugh. “You can’t joke about that, at least not today.”

“It only cost me $250k and an hour long interview.” I wrinkled my nose up. “I have to joke about it or I’ll probably cry.”

“No, no crying, unless they are happy tears. Anything else breaks my heart.”

“I can’t promise that when you’re going away,” I admitted as I curled into him and tucked my head in the crook of his neck. “It’s going to be strange sleeping without you, and lonely, and cold. You’re like the perfect hot water bottle.”

He brushed a kiss over my forehead before resting his cheek on my head. “Four nights, mon amour, four long nights and then we will be together in Montreal and you can put your cold feet on me again. And, we have tonight.”

“In my parents house,” I groaned under my breath. “Bloody cock blocks.”

“It wouldn’t surprise me if your dad made us sleep in different rooms,” Pierre joked.

I chuckled at the thought. “Then slept in the hallway with his shotgun.”

“Wait, he has a shotgun?”

I burst out laughing at the look on his face and found the loud noise had drawn my parents' attention. “Dad, I think Pierre wants to go clay shooting with you.”

“Oh no, sir, it’s alright. I’m more into golf than, uh, shooting,” he said nervously.

“Golf, huh, what’s your handicap?”

“16.”

Dad grinned and I knew what he was thinking. “Bri’s 16, I’m 11. We’ll have to have a round next time you’re here.”

“That could get messy, you get a bit competitive.” Pierre and dad both looked at me a little offended but I had been mostly talking to dad. After thinking about it, both men were very competitive by nature and I could see them trying to outdo the other. “Yeah, it’s probably a good thing you aren’t going shooting.”

Dad smirked at the comment. “Probably. Though I know a great lawyer if there is an accident.”

“Dad,” I gasped as splashed water his way, making him splutter and choke as he struggled to stop laughing.

“It was a joke, darling,” he said when he finally recovered enough to talk. “I wouldn’t have invited him over if I didn’t like him.”

“Technically that was mum.”

“Because she’s better at organising things than me, but I thought about it.” Dad looked at Pierre. “Trust me, son, the best lesson I can teach you on how to live a long happy life with a woman is this - just smile and let her do what she wants.”

“It does work wonders,” mum concurred as she swam up to dad with Addie on her back. “30 years of marriage and counting.”

“That sounds too simple,” Pierre commented but I was still staring at dad, wondering if I had ever heard him call a boyfriend of mine ‘son’ before.

Dad laughed and tapped the side of his head. “You still have to master mind reading to know what she actually wants and not what she says. Don’t fall for those traps.”

“On that note,” I announced as I swam towards the stairs. “I’m going to get dressed and start on dinner because despite my father’s sage advice - food is actually the key to keeping me happy.”

Pierre quickly caught up to me with a streamlined freestyle that flexed his biceps with each stroke and offered to help. Addie wasn’t ready to get out and pouted to her grandparents until they were manipulated into staying in the pool longer. It worked out rather well as I closed my bedroom door and tugged at the bows that held my bikini together.

“They are going to be there for a while.” I smirked as the material fell away and Pierre’s tongue rolled over his lips at the sight. “Don’t make me wait until Montreal.”

He turned and locked the door before kicking his swimming trunks off and picking me up. My legs locked around him like they had in the pool but now there was nothing between us and I moaned as his hard length teased my entrance.

“Make me yours, Pierre,” I begged as he laid me on the bed, his wet hair dripping across my skin as he kissed his way down my body. “Mark me.”

He grazed his teeth over the sensitive spot along my inner thigh and I shuddered beneath him when he sealed his lips over the skin and sucked. His tongue lapped at the mark he had left and my core clenched in response to the primal growl he made when he pulled back and saw the large purple circle that remained.

“Fuck, you are so sexy,” he praised as he admired the mark a moment longer. Needing me as much as I needed him, he curled two fingers into my aching cunt and sighed happily when he felt how wet and ready I was for him. “On your knees, ma chérie.”

I obeyed without hesitation and wrapped my hand around his cock so I could feel every inch of him as he slowly filled me. I wasn’t going to be able to silence the sounds that were building and I reached blindly for my pillow before burying my face in it.

“You feel fucking amazing,” Pierre whispered as he pulled me away from the pillow so my back was pressed to his chest and his hand snaked around my body to teased my clit in time to each thrust.

“Don’t stop, Pierre, please, don’t stop,” I whimpered as I bit my lip trying to keep quiet. My hands gripped his forearms, my nails marking his skin as my entire body tensed before my orgasm crashed over me in undulating waves that left stars dancing across my vision.

“We’re not finished yet, mon trésor,” Pierre chuckled in my ear before kissing my racing pulse and guiding me back onto my hands. “You might want to bite that pillow again.”

–

When we emerged freshly showered and satisfied, the others were still in the pool so we went to the kitchen and I grabbed a bag of masa harina to make fresh tortillas. Pierre set up a top 40 playlist on Spotify knowing I liked to listen to music while I cooked and then took charge of chopping up the vegetables I tossed his way.

“Nice reflexes, Gasly,” I praised when he caught everything, even the odd shaped apple cucumber that was covered in little prickles.

“Is this thing edible?” he asked as he wiped his hand free of the prickles.

“I’m too invested in your life to try to poison you, babe.”

He put the knife down and leaned closer to whisper, “can you tell that to Damien before he tries to shoot me?”

I opened my mouth to apologise and explain my dads sick sense of humour when I saw his lips twitch with a suppressed smile before he laughed.

“He needs to act his age, honestly. During the off-season he and Otmar get into so much trouble together. You don’t have to worry about him anyhow, his aim is terrible because he refused to wear the glasses he was prescribed.”

“That makes me feel much better.”

“And he likes you too much, he even called you son.”

“I wasn’t sure if I misheard that. His accent is very strong sometimes.”

I cocked an eyebrow up and waved a floury finger at him as I couldn’t help but tease him. “Look who’s talking.”

“Ah, but you love my accent.”

“I do,” I sighed longingly. “I could listen to you talking all day. Unless it’s with Charles, that just gives me a headache.”

Pierre laughed as he reached for his phone. “Should I call him again?”

“No, please,” I whined. “I speak French, he speaks French. I speak Italian, he speaks Italian. But for some reason I can never understand him, I don’t understand how you do either. It’s like a mashup of both languages and then some English thrown in for good measure too.”

He put his phone down again and turned to me with a smile. “That’s because you learned the language in schoolbooks. It’s far more formal and structured compared to street talk but you’ll pick it up when you’re living in Paris and hearing it everyday.”

The dough was kneaded and ready as I pushed the bowl away and wiped the flour off my hands. “About that…” I shifted on my feet as I looked out the kitchen window to the huge herb garden mum tended to. “I realised I’m being pretty hypocritical. I’m happy to pay Trent off because I don’t want to be apart from you. But then I’m supposed to start work and go from being with you almost 24/7 to just on weekends?”

“We promised we would make it work,” Pierre said nervously as he wondered where I was heading with this conversation.

“And we will,” I assured him as I took his hand. “What I’m saying is that I don’t want to be apart from you when I don’t have to be, especially after seeing that crash. It was a real wake up call that our time isn’t guaranteed.”

Pierre pulled me into his arms and I fisted the back of his shirt like if I could hold on tight then enough this moment would never end.

“Financially, I don’t need the job, I have a trust fund that I’ve never touched but that was mostly from pride and wanting to be independent. The job I had lined up was really only to get some hands-on experience but my long term goal has always been to design and build F1 cars.”

Pierre searched my eyes for a hint of a lie and his lips parted with a deep breath of relief when he realised what I was saying. “You’re not taking the job.”

“No, I can’t even stomach being away from you tomorrow night,” I admitted. “Silly season is coming up and it’s not just you drivers who change seats. I’ll keep an eye out for any jobs around the paddock that use my degree and work my way up that way. As long as I get to climb into bed with you at the end of the day, that’s all that matters.”

The ground disappeared as Pierre swept me up and spun me around with a grin. “I didn’t know how I was going to cope without seeing you and Addie everyday.”

I knew the suffering of missing Pierre would have been just as hard on Addie since she had come to love him too. She was thriving more than ever with having such a kind and supportive male role model, it would have been cruel to suddenly half that quality time they spend together.

“I hope we never have to find out.”

Click here for chapter twenty one.

Tagging: @my-only-way-tocooperatewithlife @prrttysposts

[ikuzeminna]

In my previous post I talked about the women of Gundam Wing not being treated as awards or reasons for man pain for the guys and I’m actually a little surprised that no one so far called me out on Meilan because at first glance, she falls right into that category. Because her death is specifically there to motivate Wufei and do nothing else. No one else knows about her, her death doesn’t affect anyone or anything else.

Except for her grandma who is apparently still so grief-stricken she blows up her entire colony. Thanks for more trauma, Master Long.

But I guess I’m gonna call myself out here then and derail this into a meta about Meilan’s portrayal actually being male-coded. Apparently I’m also gonna make up words while doing so lol

What do I mean? Let’s first clear up what I meant when I said the Wing women aren’t used for man pain. Man pain is quite an umbrella term that’s supposed to describe any instance of the narrative portraying a male’s emotional pain be of a higher magnitude than anyone else’s within his story. Especially women’s.

In my post I was referring to the very specific case where a woman’s suffering is stripped from her narratively and made exclusively a guy’s problem, to the point it only exists if it’s in relation to him. Think Gwen Stacy’s death affecting Spiderman or 2009‘s Spock’s mom dying or Aang burning Katara and then moping about never firebending again, necessitating her comforting him about his (accidental) assault on her. messed up doesn’t even begin to cover that last one The girl with the puppy is actually an example of this in Wing because her death only exists to make Heero feel bad. She isn't even given a name. The most classic example really is a guy’s mom dying though and him being forever sad about it. It’s the easy way for the writer to give his manly man something to cry over without making him a wimp. Otherwise Kira from Gundam Seed would be more popular.

But when we get asked to name a famous fictional death, I think most people will pick Mufasa, the prime example ever of a death affecting the audience. And it makes sense. Because not only was Mufasa a good parent, who sacrificed his life to save his son, Simba’s entire hero’s journey is basically living up to his father’s example. It's what drives the story.

And that’s the difference between men and women dying in fiction, especially parents. If a mother dies, it’s something to be sad over (i.e. Spock). If a father dies, it’s a legacy to uphold (i.e. Kirk). Simba is never worried about living up to Sarabi’s expectations. Hiccup spends three movies trying not to shame his father. Katniss won’t shut up about what a great person her dad was even though her mom is right there, being the medic for her entire district, but never being worth emulating in any way.

The same goes if it’s just a friend. A female friend’s death is a devastating event, a male friend’s death is a call to not let his sacrifice be in vain.

Which brings us back to Meilan. Meilan may have been written as just a device to give Wufei a tragic backstory, which lands her squarely in man pain territory, but narratively she is the same category as Mufasa, influencing Wufei to the degree he changes his entire way of life to live up to her memory and hold himself accountable during the series when he fails to do so, which yanks her right out of it again.

Besides, Wufei never goes around openly mourning her death. It’s hidden in aggressiveness and weird sexism towards Noin and his odd reverence of his Gundam. I love that it was supposed to be a secret that would have been revealed at the middle of the series, just like everyone else’s backstories, had the schedule not been crazy, giving us the recap episodes instead. Alas...

But this is one of the reasons I love Gundam Wing so much. The colony leader Heero Yuy and the late King Peacecraft may be revered figures within its universe, but by the end of the series, and definitely by EW, the person the entire galaxy admires is Relena. A girl. Which is completely deserved for all the things she manages to pull off, mind you.

I love most that Heero admiring Relena also has a very personal aspect to it. He knows her. He knows how bullheaded she can be. She’s not an abstract to him, he’s intimately familiar with that Gundanium backbone of hers. That scene on Libra where they keep throwing compliments at each other is great. Relena tries to transfer her accomplishments to Heero, playing into narrative tradition of gender roles here where the guy always gets all the glory, no matter how competent the girl may have been (glaring at you here, Hiccup and Astrid >_>) and Heero, the show’s male protagonist, bounces it right back, telling her he is nothing compared to her, landing a sweet blow to narrative sexism.

Gundam Wing is a weird little show where I don’t know if one could call it feminist considering how every woman is assigned to a man, with Treize and Zechs and Duo and Wufei standing above their female counterparts due to their strength or lineage or because they’re the series’ Char clone, but within the roles it assigned to everyone, it does a wonderful job of not being sexist about them. Une is portrayed as more competent than Treize, who is more of an opportunist. Zechs outright says Noin is better than him. Wufei won’t shut up about Nataku and what a failure he is. It's like the show apologizes for being Gundam and made in the 90s, explaining why the pilots and big bads all have to be male, but they'll make the female characters as cool as they can to make up for it. Here, have some Sally and Noin being a badass duo or Relena and Dorothy carrying the philosophical debate during the Cinq arc.

....Except Hilde. I got nothing here because her and Duo are classic gender roles to a T, haha. But at least Duo is not being a jerk about it, which is more than can be said about most fictional guys trying to dictate a female’s actions. Duo lets Hilde make her own decisions.

[dreamingmappist]

Musings on My Fanfiction

Just spent a couple of hours reading my own fics. I should write more if only so I have more choices to reread on a night like this.

Anyway, I write a lot of doppelgangers, mostly because I enjoy crossing over shows that feature the same actor. I write very few explicit stories, mostly relying on poetic descriptions and fade to black. (Should I remedy that?)

Sometimes I surprise myself with how well something holds up, and sometimes I wince at how clunky and artificial I sound. How burdened with fifty-dollar words my work can get. I snigger at my own jokes, cry at my sad endings.

I have a thing for characters sleeping with men with guns at ready. I have a thing for post-series character studies and vignettes, balanced by overlong stories with boring titles. I have a thing for describing art and music. I wouldn’t say I’m good at it but I enjoy writing it. I have a thing for fan poetry.

I once researched physics equations for two sentences in my fic. I researched law in a specific country (I hate lawyer stuff so it was extra painful) Places in Japan, distances from Cleveland to where the NCIS offices are, how sculptures are made. I read a whole book about good psychopaths.

I don’t regret anything I’ve written. (Except for that one racist fic that is buried in my sib’s old FFN account. The follies of a sheltered youth.) Anyway I’m trying to get back into writing fiction again. Maybe a little bit of fanfic, a little bit of orig fic. Where do I begin? Maybe a man with a gun under his pillow…

[empress-of-snark]

mid-year reading tag 2023

(copying @televinita cause it seemed like fun)

1. best book you’ve read so far this year

Probably Daisy Jones and the Six (Taylor Jenkins Reid). No, I still haven’t watched the Amazon series cause frankly, the book was exhausting and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to watch the whole story play out all over again, but I’ll get to it one day.

The book was really good, though! Ignored it for a long time because of the hype, but it was deserved.

2. best sequel you’ve read so far this year

I’ve only read two sequels so far, but I’ll go with Thunderhead (Neal Shusterman), sequel to Scythe. I wasn’t quite invested enough in the series to be very upset that my library doesn’t have a copy of the third (and final) book, but I enjoyed it.

3. new release you haven’t read yet

There’s apparently a book called A Song of Sin and Salvation (L. H. Blake) that came out last month and is quite literally published Hellcheer fanfiction (good girl x bad boy, set in the 80’s, music-focused, even the cover art looks like them lmao). Obviously I need to get my hands on it immediately.

4. most anticipated release for the second half of the year

Definitely the new Cormoran Strike book, The Running Grave (Robert Galbraith), which comes out in September (and hell yes I’ve already pre-ordered it). Was not expecting another installment only a year after the last one, but I’ve been addicted to this series since I started it last year, so I am not complaining!

5. biggest disappointment

Gotta be A Discovery of Witches (Deborah Harkness). I was expecting a spooky supernatural mystery but misjudged how much of the story would be devoted to the romance. It’s basically Twilight but with slightly more plot. Not bad really, just disappointing.

6. biggest surprise

Honestly, this hasn’t been a stellar book year for me so far. I guess that’s a surprise in and of itself? Hope it picks up in the next six months.

7. favorite new author (debut or new to you)

A lot of the authors I’ve read this year have been ones I’m familiar with, but Daisy Jones was my first from Taylor Jenkins Reid. I know she also wrote The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo, which I’ve also heard great things about. I’ll definitely give that one a try when I get the chance!

8. newest fictional crush/newest favorite character

I dunno if I would go so far as to call them crushes, but I did love James from Longbourn (Jo Baker) and Moist von Lipwig from Going Postal (Terry Pratchett). Very different characters, but they were both great leading men.

9. book that made you cry

The Five People You Meet in Heaven (Mitch Albom). My best friend recommended it to me ages ago, and I finally read it (in one sitting) and got extremely choked up at the end.

10. book that made you happy

Going Postal was a great reminder of how much I love Terry Pratchett. While the prospect of reading his entire Discworld series is a little daunting, I’ve very much enjoyed the two that I have read (plus Good Omens, of course).

I’ve definitely enjoyed some of the books I’ve read this year, but a lot of them have just been a bit lackluster. Hopefully the second half of the year will be better!

[f0point5]

lengthy comment incoming. i like to go about a week after catching up on the story so i get a bit of a bigger chunk to read each time and wow did vegas blow it out of the water. i've been keeping up with this for a while and i can't believe it's finally coming to an end.

i started reading this when i was new to f1 and i've honestly learned so much from catching up on your blog. i read that thing like it's the damn newspaper lol. the way you've effortlessly weaved in ongoing irl events into a smau is insane to me. i cant imagine how much work and planning that takes. the way you've been able to tell the story through mostly texts and media is so impressive. and the way you have max and y/n's characters fleshed out. the miscommunication and the way they both feel about each other and the relationship due to their history and personal experiences. i know that's how you write any romance but i guess seeing you explain your thought process and writing makes it that more apparent of how much thought you've put into this. it's just all very believable/relatable. i can see where both max and y/n are coming from with their insecurities and grievances.

the planning with the watch and everything, like how did you even have that planned out so far in advance. you were really writing this whole thing Live! and don't even get me started on the "i'll drive you around for my whole life" or the "you're home". the "we don't have to do anything before you're ready. we don't even ever have to do anything if you don't want. i just want to make you happy and i want to be with you." and him sitting outside the door? now THAT is bridgerton. me and who fr. i will simply never settle for anything less from now on. once again, a fictional man has exceeded my expectations.

i also totally believe max would buy the car thinking it's a good gift. especially with lando validating that. it's just such a... man thing to do. like he had good intentions but didn't really think about it that deeply. men are really just like. she likes cars so i will get her a car. even though there's so many undertones and layers and meanings to that gesture from y/n's pov. like i completely am on her side. i would also cry if it was my birthday and my friend just got me an expensive car And he swerved my kiss? AND i know my friend told him i would be dtf. like i wouldn't have the rationale to not be like omg it's ruined he hates me it's over. from maxs perspective i get that he was being cautious and a bit of a coward sure. but how confusing that must've looked from y/n's view.

also for the vegas gp. i don't live too far from there and i've visited a handful of times, so it didn't surprise me with what they tried to do there. america is just so very performative and extra. it's honestly really embarrassing sometimes. especially in comparison to the class of something like the monaco gp. i felt so bad for the drivers like the introvert in me was dying. i get wanting to expand the f1 audience but i don't really see how appealing that event is other than the theatrics that have nothing to do with racing. like max being super passionate saying he wanted people to come because they cared about racing. it should be like that! vegas is the closest gp to me so if i ever got the chance to go to a race, that would be most feasible in terms of distance. but i seriously don't think i'd enjoy it all that much seeing how it turned out. just a huge shit show and not fun for anyone. it's moments like that where i wish i'd been a nepo baby so things would be easier and i could just be invited to the garage. a little jealous of y/n's life lol. i know it's not all that glamorous (i see the stuff drivers and wags go through and i am way too vulnerable to handle that lifestyle) but it's sure fun to romanticize and imagine.

First of all, thank you! This is the cutest message and I appreciate r you taking the time to write all that! I’m just so glad people have been enjoying the story it has brought so much joy to my life! 🧡🧡🧡

Yeah for sure Vegas is more a party than anything else. I literally would have paid the fines and not turned up to any of it if I was a driver lol. There’s rumours swirling that Max got called to a meeting with Liberty over his comments and whether that’s true or not, the way this company is terrified of opinions is so dumb. Like, if you think you’re doing the right thing, if your viewership is going up and you think this is the way forward, you own the product, just do your thing why do you care what Max Verstappen thinks?

Are you scared your tacky nouveau riche Liberace house of crap extravaganza might suddenly be seen for what it is?

[j-graysonlibrary]

Heartbeats; Paradise XXII

Title: Heartbeats; Paradise

Author: Jay Grayson

Word Count: 112K

Genres: Psychological thriller, drama, sci-fi, LGBT+

Available on: Kobo and my website

Synopsis: Melvin Hardy and Kade Axel appear to be a match made in heaven. After a meet-cute in the rain, the two quickly find themselves in a burgeoning, wholesome relationship.

Yet, things feel…off. It isn’t the ghosts of their pasts that resurface to test the strength of their partnership—no—it’s something nebulous. Something indescribable. Melvin can’t put his finger on it but, the more time he spends with Kade, the more he starts to wonder what’s real and what’s pure fiction. 

XXII:

I see a few things on the trip as I slip in and out of consciousness. I’m being carried by Oz—I see that when I peel open my eyes and am met with the side of his face. I’m much more relaxed, being held by him, but I still wake periodically either due to the pain jolting through my body or the fact I’m picking up bits and pieces of conversation.

The town is in ruins. Every time I peer around Oz, I see rubble and dilapidated buildings. People sit around on the ground outside of their homes, holding their loved ones and crying. There is a small girl standing over two motionless bodies, holding a dog in her arms while she sobs. The dog licks her tears away but there isn’t much more it can do.

Fredrik, the leader, directs some of the other people in the rubble to take in the girl and her dog. He also lets them know the location of his hideout, telling them that there is enough food and water for all.

“Why is this…Federation…doing this?” I hear Kade ask at some point later.

“They started in my country,” Fredrik answers, “Many of us were turning to IVAR—maybe at an unhealthy rate—and our neighbor took advantage of this and bombed us into submission. They subjugated our capital and now have their sights set on other countries they can easily occupy.”

“Places that also have a high use of IVAR,” Kendra guesses.

“Right. To them, running away into the system is a weakness. In their country and their territories, they have banned the pods.”

One of the other men speaks up. “But we smuggled our fair share out.”

I fade out again and, this time, I don’t wake until we’re passing into a compound of some sort. There is a mangled chain link fence around the perimeter and bags of sand stacked to almost the same height which block off different sections.

Some people are outside—most huddled together by the trash cans that act as hearths. I spot the occasional kid running around and playing but the air, in general, is quite solemn.

A plane flies overhead and everyone tenses and goes completely silent. I stop breathing as well until the aircraft passes out of sight.

“This is a safe-zone but you never know,” Fredrik says with a low voice.

Great, I think, even now we’re not really safe. There’s still a chance we’ll be attacked and have to run again.

My eyes slip closed as Oz carries me up a hill. I see that we are headed towards one of the largest buildings on the compound which I assume is where they keep their medical supplies.

Or their dungeons.

When I glance to the side again, it’s as we’re entering the building. I see a statue half sunken into the earth. It’s dark bronze and portrays a young man with soft features and a short bob of hair. He’s wearing some ceremonial garb and I wonder if it has something to do with the religious practices of the rebels.

I have no intention of mentioning it. I really don’t want to risk saying the wrong thing—not when we’ll be relying on these people for safety and food for the foreseeable future.

Our group separates as we get further in and I don’t notice until I hear Kade’s voice fading away behind me. “So, what exactly does this Federation want?”

I’m surprised he’s asking so many questions. I would not have expected him to have such an interest in the current events of this place.

I can’t say I share his curiosity.

While it would be nice to know what’s going on, I really have no desire to stick around if I can help it. I don’t want to be in an active war zone. Though, I suppose, what I do want isn’t something I can exactly have.

Just as I start to lament that fact, a needle is pressed into my hand and I lose consciousness instantly.

It’s a lot like when I used to sleep in the virtual world—there are no dreams and I’m not aware of anything until I’m waking again. I can tell some time has passed but how much, exactly, eludes me.

I just know I feel sluggish and like I could sleep for three days straight if anyone were to let me.

I also notice that I’m no longer being carried but I’m leaning back on a soft chair. Oz is at my side, holding my left hand and rubbing his thumb against the back of my palm. It’s rather soothing but not so soothing that I ignore the man lacing a thick cord through my middle.

My shirt has been removed in my slumber and, I’m guessing, the wound in the back of my leg has already been dealt with because there is a new, more secure, dressing over it. I’m surprised that one was addressed first but I don’t claim to know much about medical care.

I watch the dark, nimble hands work the wound on my stomach, pulling it together with expert stitching. He finishes his work, only causing me discomfort but not any pain. I can guess I’ve been thoroughly numbed and drugged.

“There we are. Don’t stretch because these stitches can come out easy if you’re not careful. Just…try to rest for a few days.”

“Thank you, Shawn,” Oz replies with a polite smile and a curt nod.

“…Thanks,” I echo with a gravelly voice.

“I’m gonna check on your friend now. Got to make sure my assistant is doing alright without me.” Shawn gestures back behind his shoulder.

I don’t get what he means until he moves out of my line of sight. Across the room, I am met with the view of Kendra and Starla. At Kendra’s side is another medic, stitching up her arm. On her other side, like usual, is Starla.

My brow furrows and I look from my left to my right, surveying the room. There aren’t many people in here but, to my left, past Oz, is a partition so I think there’s probably a larger area beyond here.

Oz notices my confusion. “What are you looking for?”

I feel my brow push in even deeper. “Where is Kade?”

“I…” He sounds unsure as he talks which makes me even more nervous, “Well, I stayed by you as you were being treated and Starla stayed with Kendra so…he’s been the one explaining things to the leader.”

I don’t skip a beat. “Is that a good idea?”

“I trust Kade,” Kendra says, having overheard. I suppose we’re not that far away from each other.

I look across the way to meet her gaze. To her left, Shawn is checking over her stitches, nodding approvingly so I guess she’s good to go. And to her right, Starla scoots her stool closer to reach something of a midway point between us.

“You think he won’t overstep?” I ask with a raised brow.

“I think he’ll convince Fredrik that we’re not enemies of his,” Kendra doesn’t quite answer my question.

I look down and sigh. I can see how she’d think that—if I was suspicious of us, I wouldn’t necessarily discount us as hostile after speaking to Kade but I wouldn’t think we were working for the enemy either. I’m just not sure where this will leave us when all is said and done.

Oz helps me back into a shirt and, once I’m settled, I move to rub my eyes only to realize that my glasses are gone. While it’s something I was aware of before being put to sleep, I’ve forgotten since. I had assumed my blurry vision was due to just waking up and still having some drugs lingering in my system.

“Sorry I couldn’t retrieve your glasses,” Oz mutters and tightens his grip on my hand.

“Well, technically we did but they’re very broken,” Starla clarifies.

I sigh. “It’s fine…”

“Can you see?” Oz asks, bringing my attention to him.

“You’re blurry around the edges but that’s fine.” Honestly, it might be better for me if I can’t see clearly for a while. That might seem counterintuitive but I already have so much on my mind and so much I’m constantly absorbing since coming out of IVAR. Maybe having one of my senses be dulled will be a relief.

“Nina said she’d search for glasses with your prescription,” Kendra mentions.

“It’s not a huge priority,” I say and lean my head back on the seat.

Oz slowly pulls his hand away and I glance back over at him. He drags his fingers along mine before finally parting. “I’m going to check on Kade.”

I nod. Someone needs to.

“Rest a little, okay?” he says before walking off into the larger room outside.

Shawn and his assistant go with him and that leaves just me and the women. Before I know it, they’re both closer and Kendra sits on the side of my seat, staring down at me.

“You seem a little out of it,” Kendra starts.

“He’s probably still full of drugs,” Starla points out.

“Oh…right.”

I manage a fraction of a smile or, at least, I hope I do. The corner of my lip pulls up as much as I can muster.

“I’m fine…” I assure them both but my eyes stick to Kendra.  Her worry is so evident in her stare and I wonder something that I can’t believe hasn’t crossed my mind before. I do wish I could see her more clearly in this moment but I ask anyway, “Kendra…do you still see your character when you look at me?”

She instantly has a reaction, recoiling away from me a little bit. I notice Starla staring at her as well and I wonder if she, too, is curious of the answer.

“No…not anymore.” Kendra shakes her head. “I can’t. You aren’t a character. You’re a real person.”

There’s another pause and, this time, it’s on me. I don’t really know what to say to her. I’m grateful she doesn’t see me as a fictional entity who became real but as my own person. But I also don’t know where to go from here. If there even is a natural progression.

Thankfully, Kendra continues on. “Do you want me to start calling you Liam…?”

Her words are well meaning but they stab me in the heart. I swallow the lump in my throat and frown. “No…I’m not Liam anymore. He’s dead.” It’s painful but it is the truth and I need to accept it.

Starla’s brows sink down as she pokes out her lower lip. “Do you want to go by a different name other than Melvin? We’d be more than happy to call you whatever you want. I’ve been thinking of other names myself…”

It has crossed my mind but nothing feels correct. Honestly, Melvin feels the most like my identity even if I have little to do with that character besides my physical appearance. When it comes down to it, I don’t feel like I should have a name at all.

I shouldn’t even be.

But, of course, I don’t say that. I muster another strained smile. “I’ll think about it too.”

“Maybe the other two will be interested in changing their names too,” Kendra muses aloud.

I instinctively look back to the other room as if I’ll see them as soon as Kendra mentions them. But I only see some of the rebels passing by.

“Want to move to the main room?” Starla asks. “I’m sure they’ll be fine with you taking your comfy chair. This way we can hear more details about the situation while we rest.”

I can’t say I’m interested as much as she seems to be but I would like to be around everyone instead of split up like this.

So, with the women’s help, we move to where everyone else is. It’s difficult to walk with one of my legs still a bit more numb than I realize. I nearly fall forward when I put weight on it but I quickly readjust myself and carry on. The walk isn’t too far, though I’m glad when I’m back in my seat.

I spot Fredrik easily as he’s about the same size as Oz and has a dark tan with jet black hair that feathers away from his face. His presence, in general, is quite striking.

He talks with Oz—both of them with equally stern faces. There is another man with them as well and it takes me a few seconds before I realize that I know him.

He’s in new clothes with an armored vest strapped over the top and his hair is chopped off but, even with my vision being as fuzzy as it is, I can still see that he is Kade.

He seems far more comfortable in this new garb and without all that hair in his face. I even catch his eye and he shoots me a look of concern but he doesn’t leave his post.

It’s just Oz who comes back over when he follows Kade’s line of sight.

“What are you doing out here?” he asks instantly and kneels down beside me. His attention switches to Kendra and Starla. “He’s supposed to be resting…”

“He’s alright, he just wanted to be closer to you.” Kendra all but rolls her eyes before adding, “We all did.”

“So, what’s the situation?” Starla switches topics entirely.

Oz sighs. “Kade wants to join the cause and I think, while we’re stuck here, we may as well get in good with the rebels and see what we can do. After all, if we can help them push back the Federation then we’ll be able to travel more freely. So, he’s going on a patrol with some of the guys and I was going to go with him to make sure he stays out of trouble.”

I smile and nod. “Good idea.”

“I don’t know how long it will take,” Oz lowers his voice and rests his hand on my shoulder. He looks conflicted but he doesn’t need to be.

“It’s fine. Kade needs someone to watch him.” Truthfully, if Oz wasn’t planning on going with him, I would make him at this point. He’s the only one I trust to keep Kade calm and grounded.

“Alright well…” he sighs and glances down to the floor.

I have the sinking suspicion that he won’t leave unless I promise him that I’ll be fine. The very act of doing so feels disingenuous but I still raise my hand up and cup the side of his face. I have missed this kind of contact but it certainly doesn’t feel the same as it used to.

“I’ll be okay, Oz.”

He leans into my touch but then his eyes shift over to the women. “Will you two keep an eye on him?”

“I’m staying right here anyway,” Kendra says, pointing to her own injury, “Not like I can do much else.”

Starla nods in agreement. She’s not hurt but we all know it would take a force of nature to pry her from Kendra’s side.

Oz looks back to me one last time. “I’ll be back.”

I watch him as he returns to Kade’s side. My chest doesn’t even ache—I don’t feel anything.

The two of them leave with a small group of rebels and I stare at the door minutes after they’re gone. I don’t think I’ve actually processed anything that’s happened since the explosions inside of Heartbeats; Paradise. It feels like years ago but I actually don’t know if it’s been a full twenty-four hours yet.

I almost laugh at that revelation but I don’t have the strength.

“You okay?” Kendra asks me after the silence becomes too oppressive for her.

I nod. “I think I need some fresh air.”

“There’s a little area to the side back that way,” Starla says and points back toward the room where we were treated.

I start to stand but both women are on top of me before I can get all the way up. They help me on either side and make sure that I know I can lean on them as I walk. A handful of the rebels watch us but no one stops us as we move to the side door.

It’s crisp outside and still dark though I don’t know if it’s the same night I fell asleep during or if I’ve been inside of this building for a day. I don’t find it pertinent enough to ask and, instead, I look up at the faint stars that sparkle in an even duller fashion than inside of IVAR. But, I remember, I’m also without my glasses. Maybe the sight is more breathtaking with clear vision.

I close my eyes as Kendra and Starla help me to the ground. It’s not very comfortable but I don’t care about that. I just want to breathe the real air even if it’s full of faint smoke and probably more than a little smog.

“Need a cushion or something?�� Starla asks.

“No but…” I glance up at them both. I’m not sure if this will work but I need to try it. “Could I be alone?”

They exchange a glance and I can see the myriad of worries jumping between them. But, eventually, Kendra concedes. “Alright…we’ll be just inside, alright? If you need anything, just call for us.”

I show my appreciation with a weak smile.

Once the door is shut and I’m by myself, I set my sights on the horizon. My fingers sneak under my shirt and trace over my stomach until I find the row of stitches that holds me together.

I rub against them as my mind buzzes.

There is nothing I want here and, as much as I do feel love for the people around me, I fear it’s not enough. They want to keep fighting—to keep struggling for a future together—and I just don’t think I have it in me.

To be honest, I don’t feel like I have anything in me.

Except for maybe the imprints of memories of a life that’s not even truly mine mixed with the events I was forced to participate in…there is barely anything. And, while I could use this as a springboard and create a life of my own, I can’t say that I particularly want to.

If this is my story then I should be able to choose how it ends too, right?

With that in mind, I begin to pull at the stitches. Some of the numbing has worn off so it’s more painful than I expect.

I have to bite down on my lip to keep from moaning out in pain. If I make too much noise, Kendra and Starla will rush out here and stop me.

Tears roll down my face as I rip the thread from my flesh with trembling hands. Hot, fresh blood begins to pour over my digits, making the rest of the process much harder but I push forward. The more it hurts, the more sure I am that I want release from it.

I finally pull back the last of the thread and let out a small sigh of relief and satisfaction. I glance down to my crimson hand and feel some semblance of morbid accomplishment.

The energy is draining out of me at a faster speed than the blood and my eyes return to the horizon. Reds, oranges, and pinks begin to fill the sky overhead and I feel, for the first time since returning, that the real world may actually be beautiful.

One final tear slips down my cheek as a smile naturally stretches across my face. I slump to the side, unable to keep myself upright any longer but, still, I watch the sky.

The sun rises.

[littlecinnamonroll]

I literally cannot stop crying tonight this is actually healing every single part of my soul and rebuilding my character <3

first i love you

ft: kyojuro, tengen, muichiro, sanemi

warnings: female reader

wc: 3.7k

Little scenarios that encompass the different shapes and ways love can take/feel like

Kyojuro

His eyes never leave your back as you check if the rice is ready, cut and prepare more ingredients for the stew, snort each time you can't find what you need because he just keeps moving things around. Even if it's your kitchen. He likes having his own spots for your things, because then they just become a little his as well. He likes claiming part of anything that surrounds you, even if ever so slightly, not so much that he'd risk bothering you but enough to feel as if he could give his love tangible shape. Because of course, he's aware of being in love. How could he not, when what he gets to experience with you is so different from anything else he's ever felt?

The memories of how his father loved his mother have become faint, blurred, so he tries to hold on tight to all the other forms of love he got to witness and feel throughout the years. Senjuro's affection, the hospitality civilians show him, the respect he has for Oyakata-sama and his fellow comrades, the other pillars.

But he never had such eyes to come back to. Wide and worried and overwhelmed with relief and sometimes angry, if he forgets to notify that a mission could last longer than expected.

No one had ever touched him like that, arms wrapping around his neck, lips grazing his jaw, thumb jokingly wiping his mouth when he eats a little too quickly, nails digging in his shoulders at night.

He never had anyone laugh in such an obviously forced way to his terrible jokes, or casually tell him how good he smells. He never got to have someone to experience new, raw, scary, blissful, with.

Kyojuro knows with painful clarity just how much he loves you, yet he can't bring himself to tell you because what if it's too soon? What if you feel pressured? What if he makes everything weird and wrong and embarrassing? Why should he always be the impulsive, loud, stupidly intense one? He doesn't want that for you. He wishes he could adapt to your quiet, kind, comforting spirit, trim the edges of his character, of his very being, to make himself as perfect for you as possible.

"Taste this", you bring a steaming spoon close to his face and he blinks, lips automatically curling up in his signature smile as he obliges.

"It's delicious".

You hum as you turn around in a swift motion to turn off the stove.

"You know, I was thinking... Senjuro's birthday is coming up", your smile is mischievous as you sit on his lap, arms are wrapped around your waist in a split second.

"Hm?", Kyojuro urges you to continue, chin resting on your shoulder as his chest is so solid and warm and distracting against your back.

"We should throw him a party. Here, so he doesn't wake up early to clean the estate and cook for us. Didn't you mention some new slayer kids staying at Kocho's? Let's invite them as well, they could hit it off and I really want Senjuro to get some friends. I'll make his favorite red bean cakes, some green tea mochi, rice crackers - you like those too - and..."

"I love you".

There he is once again. Not so loud but still impulsive, stupidly intense, abrupt. He doesn't regret it though, because if he can't be his unfiltered self with you then what's the point?

You're looking at him, lips parted, eyes wider, and have your cheeks gained some pigmentation?

He panics.

"Don't feel pressured to say anything, it's just, I didn't mean to say it like that, I'm sorry, please know I certainly don't expect-"

"Kyo, and I mean this in the kindest way possible, shut up", you're smiling again as you lean closer.

So he does, shut up. Because you kiss him and your hands tug at his hair in that way that makes him weak, and he's just so ready to make you forget what he had just said by engaging in a full-on make out session, until you pull away and smile so brightly he's the one to forget everything else.

"I love you more".

He laughs that boisterous laugh of his, making your smile grow wider.

Tell me again. And again. And again. I never want to hear anything else.

Tengen

"That's simply not possible", he mutters, deaf to your protests as his lips find your forehead and his arms wrap around you a little tighter.

"Fuck you!", you groan, making the man's chest hovering above you vibrate with laughter.

"Language, y/n", he playfully squeezes your hip as his other hand holds your wrists above your head just a little bit tighter.

You scoff.

"Get off me, you cheater!"

"Hey, that's some serious accusation! As a pillar, you should be able to lose with grace and dignity and admit when your opponent is, you know, flamboyantly superior in every aspect", he grins and you roll your eyes, faintly kicking your heel against the ground in frustration.

"We were sparring and you grabbed my ass to distract me, that just makes you a flamboyant jerk".

"Wouldn't have been able to grab it if you were faster".

"I hate you", you whine.

He laughs once more and your eyes are suddenly squeezing as the sun hits your face and your annoyingly attractive boyfriend helps you up, amused grin still lingering on his lips as he leans closer. You pull back, earning a displeased frown.

"No kisses", you ignore his furrowed brows as you dust off your uniform.

"Till when?", he dramatically groans and you fail to hold back a smile.

"Till you properly train me!"

"Sweetheart, didn't I already properly train you last night?"

"Tengen!", you cough, embarrassed, checking that no one at your estate is around, close enough to hear him.

His shit eating grin is back as his arm finds your waist and you're suddenly pressed against him, lips barely grazing yours, carefully kept at safe distance: he's a patient man, after all. Most of the time.

"Just my name, no honorifics? That's hot".

You narrow your eyes, doing your best to keep the I'm-still-very-much-irritated facade very-much-up.

"You get one kiss. If you catch me".

"You're already... y/n!", he growls when you slip out of his embrace and disappear. Like the distressingly talented little student you are. God damn it.

You know you're not faster than him (yet, you stubbornly remind yourself) but you also know he likes to play along. You love how easy it is to have fun with him, how quickly you realized just how well you fit in together. He's sharp, funny, always your biggest fan and worst training partner because he gets distracted so damn easily. Yet he is caring, runs you baths if he notices the faintest tension in your muscles, cooks for you, invites you over all the time so that you can get to know his not exactly ordinary family. You love being part of his life, that's what you think while you laugh and jump from the roof to a tree and then sprint towards the forest, already painfully aware of the fact that he's not behind you anymore.

The collusion is inevitable as he suddenly appears right in front of you, big arms enveloping you as you both fall to the ground and you wiggle uselessly in his embrace.

"I hate you", your voice is softer as you surrender, leaning down to peck his lips. Tengen gently pulls you closer because he wants more, always wants more, it's not enough that his hands are traveling down your body, it's not enough that he can smell whatever soap you used to wash your hair, it's definitely not enough having you grind against him so slightly, most probably without even noticing. He wants you all the time, everywhere. He wants your grumpy mornings, blue nights, he wants to know you're gonna be home when you come back from a mission, the same home he comes back to.

"Marry me", he's breathless when he pulls away and his hands are grasping your hips so tightly you need a moment to fully process what he had just said.

"What?", you laugh, trying to get off him, but he keeps you in place with exactly zero effort.

"Marry me", he repeats, smile growing on his lips, eyes hopeful.

You blink a few times.

"What happened to I love you, first?", your cheeks are heating up with alarming speed as you do your best to deflect.

Tengen scoffs.

"Why would I ask you to marry me if I didn't love you? Don't you already know how embarrassingly much I do?"

Ohmygod.

"You don't...?", it's like his incomplete question remains pending above you as his stare becomes concerned, almost alarmed.

You let out an airy laugh and peck his lips again, casually removing a strand of silver hair from his forehead to secure it behind his ear.

"Of course I do, you idiot. But you're not gonna ask me to marry you while I'm dirty, tired, sweaty and on top of you in the middle of the forest, understood?"

He finally lets you go and you roll away, getting to sit on the ground as he lazily props himself on one arm.

"You would've said yes? If you weren't dirty, tired, sweaty and on top of me in the middle of the forest".

What a dumb fucking question.

"Not sure", you teased.

"But you love me?"

"Yes, you needy man child".

Muichiro

He grins and your heart flutters because even in the middle of the forest, with dirt and dust on his uniform, his hair messily escaping his ponytail, he manages to look earth shatteringly gorgeous. And you have no doubts: he's the person you want to come back home to and the person you want coming back home to you. Forever.

"Kanroji-san, have you seen Muichiro?", you ask for the third time after having already received a scoff from Sanemi and an apologetic shrug from Kyojuro.

Mitsuri tilts her head, her index finger resting on her chin.

"Yes, I think he went straight to his estate after our mission. I recommended him to visit Kocho-san's mansion but he always forgets", she seems bummed so you give her an encouraging smile.

"Don't worry, I'll go check on him. I hope everything went smoothly?"

He reciprocates your smile and nods.

"It did! The nest of demons was easy enough to find, we weren't expecting a lower moon but Tokito-san took care of that quite easily!"

"I'm happy you're both back", you can't help but let out a relieved sigh. After each Hashira meeting you found yourself wondering if you'd be able to meet everyone again on the next one. You knew that, as a group, you didn't exactly have a we're-best-friends dynamic going on, but you worried. And you cared about them. And you knew that even those who would rather be stabbed than to admit it, cared as well. After all, most of you only had each other.

Mitsuri smiles again and lightly squeezes your shoulder.

"Me too, y/n-san. Thank you for always checking on him, I'm sure he would appreciate it if he remembered".

You shrug.

"Doesn't matter, I'm happy to do it. I'll see you soon, Kanroji-san", your hand is on hers for a split second before she removes it and waves at you, nodding reassuringly.

The estate isn't too far from Oyakata-sama's mansion but you run anyway. You run every time. Even if Sanemi finds it ridiculous, even if Tengen doesn't really understand, even if Shinobu always assures you that she has everything under control. You believe her but you just can't help yourself.

"Muichiro?", you call for him, already knowing very well that no one is going to be around. He doesn't like people at his estate when he's there, so his housekeepers usually cook, do the laundry, clean and then disappear before he gets back from a mission. So he's alone. Basically always alone.

"Muichiro!", you call again. No respectful honorifics because he's a kid and, frankly, you don't give a damn.

"Why are you here?", his stoic voice catches you by surprise as you turn around and find him looking at you with a blank expression on his uncharacteristically flushed face.

"Sorry I came by unannounced, I just wanted to ask about the mission", you lie, lips extended in a friendly smile.

He tilts his head.

"It was fine".

"Are you okay?"

"Mission was easy".

You sigh as you take a step closer and carefully lift a hand to gently touch his forehead.

"Muichiro, you're burning up!"

He doesn't say a word as you basically drag him to his bedroom and firmly ask him to change his clothes after getting his jinbei from the closet and laying his futon on the floor.

You turn around, waiting, arms crossed as he obediently does as instructed. Is he feeling so bad that he doesn't even question your presence there? Should you send a crow to Shinobu?

"Why are you here?", he asks again, and you look over your shoulder to find him already tucked in. He must be cold.

"I'll be right back", you ignore his question, he's gonna forget and ask it again anyway.

You find some soup and rice in the kitchen but you don't want to risk making him sick, so you settle for freshly brewed green tea, some senbei and fruit. There's an empty, plastic wash basin abandoned on the engawa and you fill it up with cold water. It feels weird to peek in the restroom but you need a cloth.

You return to the bedroom after having sent your crow with a message for Shinobu: you have no idea if he owns any medicine and you're pretty certain he has no idea either.

Forehead's still hot and his eyes are a little glassy as you gently lift his hair to position the damp cloth in place.

"Thanks", his voice is barely audible. You softly hush him.

"Close your eyes and rest, you're gonna feel better soon. Why aren't you more careful? You should take better care of yourself", you sigh, stroking his cheek with the back of your hand. He seems so much younger as he looks at you, shivering under the covers. He looks like a child. One that would have a family, parents and siblings, in a normal world.

"Hungry?", you ask, unable to stop your hand from gently traveling between his locks. He shakes his head and leanes into your hand so slightly that you barely notice. But you do, notice. And it breaks your heart, the sudden memory of the last time you had experienced something similar, many years ago, in another world, another reality. When you still had someone else, someone smaller, to take care of.

"Get some sleep", your voice cracks and you have to clear your throat, "I'll be here when you wake up".

He finally shuts his eyes as a light sigh escapes his lips.

"Thanks, nee-san. Love you".

Sanemi

He's snoring already as you sit there, frozen in complete and utter shock.

His arms are lazily wrapped around you as you lay on top of him, hands softly tracing his skin, paying extra attention to his scars. His eyes are closed but he's not asleep, once every few seconds he hums in satisfaction and you can't quite believe how relaxed he is under your touch. It sure took some time.

"You're so beautiful", you whisper quietly, embarrassed by your sudden sappiness.

He doesn't open his eyes but you hear him scoff.

"You shouldn't lie".

"I'm not, you know you are", your fingertips are barely touching his arm as they keep exploring. As if you needed to do that, as if you hadn't already memorized every inch of him.

"This is not how beautiful looks. I look strong, threatening", his eyes finally look into yours as you place your chin on his chest and skeptically raise an eyebrow, "scandalously hot", he adds with a grin, making you snort, "but I'm not beautiful".

"You're a beautiful, oblivious idiot", your fingers are exploring again, followed by the soft touch of your lips.

Sanemi closes his eyes once again, savoring the sensation of absolute peace and relief you are able to provide him. His skin tingles under your fingers and burns under your lips, scars almost fluttering with a single, even accidental touch of your hands. How did you do it? How could a man, a fighter, crumble under the softest of touches? What the hell was that something he could so often feel annoyingly scratching and biting and screaming inside of him, asking to be set free from his stomach, his hands, his chest, his mouth?

Then, it dawns on him. It painfully, suddenly, accidentally dawns on him, just as your lips are pressed on his neck and your hair tickles his chin.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I love her. I'm so fucking in love with her.

You stiffen against his body before he has the chance to have the exact same reaction. His eyes are suddenly wide open, he's terrified: has he said that shit out loud? Did you read his mind? Are his arms too tight around you?

He feels so cold, so empty, as you suddenly get up and frantically gather your clothes from the corner of his room, barely illuminated by the moonlight.

"What are you doing?", he sits up, his mind feels all over the place and it doesn't help that you are in a sudden rush to... leave? What the fuck?

"Going home", you reply dryly. He catches the urgency in your voice and it alarms him as he gets up as well, picks up his pants from the floor and absentmindedly wears them.

"What? What's wrong?", he touches your arm but you pull away, refusing to face him, still looking for your small bag.

"Nothing, I just need to go home".

Sanemi grows impatient easily, especially when he's scared. And he's always been scared of you leaving like that, not even looking at him, not giving a single explanation, voice cold and uninterested. So he grabs you by your shoulders and turns you around, something inside him shattering as you still refuse to meet his gaze.

"What's wrong? Tell me", his voice shakes, the warmth he was feeling a few moments before replaced by ice cold fear. What did I do? Is what he really wants to ask. Yes, go, is what he actually should say. Go as far as you can, never look back, forget this, forget me, find someone better, I'm glad you finally realized it's for the best if we end it here. There's not enough left of me to love you properly anyway.

You're finally looking at him as you let out a shaky breath, your hands gently lowering his arms so that he lets go of your shoulders.

"I love you", you mutter and he can barely hear it. But he does, hear it. And he swears his heart is one step away from freeing itself from his ribcage from how hard, how fast, is beating.

"And I can't love you", you continue, "it's not what we agreed and I know you don't want that. I can't love you".

"I didn't realize we had an agreement", he retorts bitterly and you snort impatiently.

"You know what I mean. Us, this, didn't start so that we could have some sappy romance. We're just... us", you're bitter as well, almost angry at yourself, disappointed in how easily, how quickly you had become such a goddamn cliché.

It's shocking to hear him laugh. He even surprises himself as he throws his head back in laughter, incredulous, angry at how similar you are to him. Of course you'd realize you loved each other in the same moment. Of course you'd have the same reaction he'd have. Of course the gods would humorously remind him that you always had to be just so stupidly perfect for him.

"I'm glad you find my feelings to be so hilarious", you grumble but he doesn't let you turn your back to him again. Because he knows it's too late. You broke through everything, each good purpose he had, the entirety of his unwelcoming outer layer. He had already given you permission to know him, to see him. You saw him. It was too late.

"I'm sorry", he says and he truly means it, "I'm sorry we're stuck in this. I can't love you either, I don't know how to".

He's naked in front of you, both metaphorically and - almost - figuratively. You've never seen him so naked.

"What?", your voice is feeble and you don't really trust the steadiness of your legs.

Sanemi quickly blinks a few times and lets go of your arms, which is a bad idea, because now you can see his hands shake.

"I'm sorry", he repeats. "I don't know how to give and I barely know how to take. You're stuck with someone like me and I don't want that, not for you".

"Stuck", the word stings as you pronounce it, "I'm stuck with someone like you, right? What an inconvenience. Then who are you stuck with? Am I an inconvenience too?", you angrily wipe away the tears from your cheeks as he aches to do the same, hand stopping mid air.

"I am stuck, y/n", he snaps heatedly, "I'm stuck with someone I'll either end up hurting or leaving behind, mourning me".

"Don't fucking say that", more tears fall from your eyes and this time his hands cup your face, thumbs desperately stroking your cheeks in a silly attempt to keep them dry.

"I'd like to keep being us. I'm selfish enough to want that. If you want to go, I won't stop you, but if you wanna stay... I'm willing to learn. I'd like to try", his voice is nothing but a whisper and now it's your turn to cup his face, because he's crying too.

What a mess, we are. It's ridiculous.

"Okay", you mutter quietly and he closes his eyes as your fingertips brush his eyelids.

[strayed-quokka]

three in one || hwang hyunjin

» summary: hyunjin finds it depressing to hear that you’ve never had an orgasm. he’s determined to give you three in one night. at least. 

» pairing: hyunjin x reader

» rating: NC-17 minors please do not interact 

» genre: acquaintances to very well acquainted LMAO, porn with minimal (no) plot, implied he has a crush on you though

» warnings: WELL so… degradation, dom hyunjin, sub reader, oral (f & m receiving), fingering, overstimulation (if you squint), squirting, unprotected sex (it’s fiction ok do better), name calling, very brief crying, hyunjin is big, cowgirl, creampie, spanking, chocking, spitting, slapping (tame tho like once), hyunjin is smug af, sex at a party, hints of aftercare mentioned, i think i got it all now...

» words: 4,742

» a/n: i am revamping tomorrow hyunjin blog only everyone else irrelevant (i’m only joking do not come for me i very much love everyone) but fr i can't even defend myself anymore han i'm so sorry ily. also, i am hitting a milestone soon and have a celebration post up with some ideas in mind for how to celebrate so if you have any particular WIP's of mine you'd like to see first, you can find it here.

The silence in the room drove you further into your best friends arms, hiding out of sheer embarrassment at everyone's surprise. You hadn’t really thought about it, that spilling something you didn’t even deem a secret to be so… well, crazy.

“You’ve never?” Minho speaks up first, his face both disbelieving and feeling a little sorry for you. He’s incredibly outspoken, and you know both from him and others that unlike you, he has a rather successful sex life. 

“How do you know?” Felix interjects. 

“What do you mean how does she know?” Seungmin’s hit the back of his friends head, who in turn hits back as the two begin to argue amongst each other. 

“I mean… it’s not a big deal,” you try, but it’s met with even more outcry from your circle of acquaintances. That’s what makes it so awkward, maybe, that you’d dared share it to classmates that were more only known to you through Jisung, rather than being actual friends to you. 

“You’re in your sexual prime and you’ve never had an orgasm. How is that not a big deal?” Minho continues, and you don’t miss the compliment thrown in there somewhere that he considered you to be in your prime at university. 

“Maybe men just don’t do it for her,” Seungmin interjects, and you don’t miss the way he glances over at Hyunjin, who’d sat rather quietly the whole night. 

You’d ended up at a house party that was still going on all around you, mostly in the living room (where loud music could be heard even from the kitchen), but you were sat in a chair at the dining table, drink in front of you nearly finished, and your best friend and some of his friends around you. 

Hyunjin was the one you knew the least and also found the most difficult to speak to. Maybe it was the crush you’d been developing on him, or maybe it was the fact that he was just very, very hard to get a word out of when he wasn’t in a particularly talkative mood. 

“Wouldn’t blame her. We aren’t that great,” Minho looks entirely offended by Jisung’s offhanded comment next to you, as if he couldn’t believe the audacity of someone to even suggest it. Though it was all in good fun, and seconds later he’s breaking out into laughter. 

You’re thankful that the conversation bleeds into another hot topic and that the boys all seem to move on from your confession, even if part of you thinks they’ll be ready to bring it up again in no time. Deciding to slip away before that happens, you excuse yourself and offer to replace everyone's drinks while you grab water. 

“I’ll come with,” Hyunjin’s chair scrapes loudly, only muffled slightly by loud cheering out in the living room that makes all of you turn while he stands up, “could use the refill.”

You nod, realising very quickly that you’ve never actually been alone with Hyunjin. You shared art classes together, but he always sat on the other side of the room near one of the windows, and the few attempts you’d tried to make at conversation, always ended in you saying nothing before sitting back down defeated.

The annoyance on Hyunjin’s face is near commical when people push and stumble into you both, though it surprises you to feel him reach for your wrist and pull you further behind him to shield you. Maybe you’re overthinking it, but he seems more frustrated at people crashing into you than into him. 

“Fucking hell,” you both land by the bar that’s situated ontop of a rather unstable table, an assortment of half empty drinks and buckets of ice that hold wine.

“I just want water,” you interject when he’s about to refill your wine, and while his face seems a bit confused (something which you think is really, really annoyingly cute), he doesn’t argue with you or try to convince you to keep drinking.

“Water it is,” to no ones surpise, the water bottles are the most full, Hyunjin pouring it into your cup before handing it back to you. 

“Thank you,” he nods, making his own drink while you watch in silence. It feels a little awkward, but it may just be the fact that you’re staring at him whilst he’s ignoring you completely. 

“How many people have you slept with?”

You nearly spit out your drink, coughing while Hyunjin immediately reacts and hits your back lightly, waiting for you to steady yourself. He’s smiling, hiding his laughter, and you begin to feel so stupid for ever struggling to say a word to him. Whilst he’s rather introverted, from what you could tell, he seemed nothing but sweet. 

“Are you going to judge me?”

“No, I’m not asking so I can judge you for it,” he leans back against the table, something he maybe shouldn’t do given that it trembles slightly, his hands holding the edges.

“Six,” you clear your throat, crossing your arms in a defensive stance. He’s eyelevel with you, though his shoulder blonde hair is hiding his brown eyes, covering part of his face before he runs his hand through it. 

“Isn’t that a little sad?”

Immediately you recoil, feeling not only embarassment but shame as you look away. You can see him move out of the corner of your eye, but you refuse to look until he’s hooked his fingers under your chin and forced your head up, “you’ve been with six people and not even one could make you come?”

Again, you deflate in shame though this time a little differently, understanding that he hadn’t insulted you the way it had initially sounded to you.

“I mean… I… maybe I just can’t-”

“Bullshit, don’t even try to give me that excuse,” his fingers are still holding your chin up, and you watch him bite down on his lower lip before placing his drink down on the table. He’s thinking, what of you’re not sure, but you can practically see thoughts twist in his head before he leans down and kisses you. 

You don’t expect it, but it’s such a welcome surprise that you immediately melt against him. He’s electrifying you, pulling you in as he grips your waist and you fall further into him. It ends all too quickly, an embarassing sound close to a whine leaving your lips when he pulls away. 

“I’ll show you if you want…” he’s teasing you, nibbling gently on your left ear before leaving a wet kiss on your neck, “I’ll make it three.”

Hyunjin walks away before you have time to react, his drink in hand as he holds it up as if to say cheers, and you’re standing there wondering if you’re hallucinating or having a very imaginative dream. You’re wrong in thinking he’s going back to the kitchen though, for you see him turn the other way towards the staircase, looking back at you one last time with a knowing smirk. 

He’s inviting you. 

And you can’t seem to say no. 

You send Jisung a message that you’re with Hyunjin getting some air, choosing not to elaborate but saying just enough so that hopefully, he doesn’t worry too much about your lack of return and also doesn’t go looking for you (though with him, you could never be sure). 

Your heart is beating out of your chest as you head upstairs, being met with a rather spacious hallway and an assortment of photos on the walls and pots of flowers and plants along the doors. You have no clue where he is and don’t really want to check in every last corner, but turns out you don’t have to, for one door opens and arms snake around your waist and pull you inside before you can say a single word in protest. 

“Couldn’t resist, hmm?” the familiar voice makes you calm down, realising it’s Hyunjin that took you hostage and not a stranger, cornering you at the door that’s now kicked shut and locked. His eyes are darker, more driven with lust and you wonder if you look much the same. 

“Hyunjin-” he kisses you again, effectively shutting you up as you moan against him, feeling one of his hands slide to the back of your thigh, lifting your leg to push himself closer between you. It makes you arch into him, though he forcefully presses a hand to your chest to push you back into the door. 

“F-fuck me. You’ll ruin me,” he bites your neck, enough to sting but there’s a sense of pleasure that comes with it that makes the sensation rather addicting. You want him to do it again, “you think I never noticed you in class? Always looking at me but never saying anything? I was just waiting for you to speak to me.”

“Y-you noticed-”

“Hard not to notice you,” his eyes run along your body, hovering over the zipper that runs through the entirety of your dress at the front. Whilst it looks more like a decorative pieace, it also happens to be the way in and out of your tight dress that now, you realise, may also have been daringly short, “and then you show up in this.”

It’s the way he says it, so raw and rough as his hands run over the fabric, that makes you whimper again. You weren’t sexually inexperienced at all, but the way he was treating you made everything feel new again. 

You get barely a second to react to him lifting you up, your legs going around his waist while the skirt of your dress rises enough for him to see your panties that match the red of your outfit, as if you’d really thought this out, “Jesus.”

He’s captivated by you, using one hand to hold you up and using the other to push the fabric further up, until your underwear is so clear to him that he sees the way the barely there lace fabric clings to your folds. You tremble at his display of strength when he holds you up, reaching for his shoulders to pull him against you. 

His mouth is back on yours as he moves, eventually throwing you onto the bed with far more force than he needed to whilst he kicks his shoes off. You’re about to do the same with your heels, though his hands circle your ankles before he kisses the skin there, “leave them.”

It’s a demand you don’t say no to, watching him while he bruises and licks your inner thigh, leaving trails of kisses while your breathing becomes heavier and the room becomes hotter, “Hyunjin.”

He responds to his name easily, your dress up over your hips as his tongue glides over your clothed folds, and you’re already gripping the bedsheets roughly. He’s teasing you slowly, so painfully that you’re a whimpering mess underneath him and can barely comprehend when he’s pushed the fabric to one side, his tongue circling around your throbbing clit. 

“Fuck, H-Hyunjin,” he groans, making your entire body respond as his mouth does wonders on your cunt, twisting his tongue into patterns before dipping it inside your entrance. 

“You have no idea how good you taste,” and you’re inclined to believe it, if only for the way you see his eyes hungrily gaze into yours while he’s teasing the bundle of nerves gently between his teeth. Your legs push against him, forcing his head back down with your hand that grips his hair, but he doesn’t seem to mind as you practically suffocate him. 

It actually urges him on, if anything, to repeat what he’s doing and adjust his pace, and you clench around nothing as a familiar coil twists in your stomach that never quite goes over the edge of letting go. 

“Please,” you beg, and it sounds like music to his ears. His hands grip your hips, pushing you down hard enough to bruise, and the strength he displays, seeing the way his muscle strain under his shirt and him between your legs makes you lose it. 

Your entire body lets go, thighs likely crushing him between you as your body lifts off the bed, but he doesn’t let go or stop, moving with you as his hands go to you ass, kneading the skin as you grind against his lips, your orgasm tearing through you as you scream his name. 

“Hyunjin… god, Hyun- fuck,” you’re shaking, near tears because his tongue won’t stop lapping over your clit, and you’re half off the bed tempting him to absolutely ravish you. 

“P-please,” you’re trying to tell him it’s too much, but you’re just as desparate for him to never stop. Though he lets go with an obsence sound as you fall back down, seeing his face glisten from the little light from the moon outside. 

“I’m not done with you,” you nearly tell him you don’t want him to be, but the words get caught in your throat when he starts to undress. You’d known he was muscular, if you hadn’t already before you defintiely knew it when he’d been holding you against the wall or pushed you into the bed, but seeing it was different.

His muscles were perfectly defined, creating beautiful shadows and light with the source outside, and you don’t realise how much you’re staring until he’s laughing at you, “that surprised?”

“N-no,” but it sounds rather pathetic and you can’t even try to make yourself sound more stable, for he’s taking his jeans off next, left in only his briefs that seem to strain a lot aganst his hard cock. It looks so tempting, though when you go to take his last pieace of clothing off, he grabs your wrists and pins them over your head with one hand, laying beside you.

“Don’t,” it’s another demand and you listen, legs squeezing together when he kisses you again. He’s so calculated with everything, pulling away to lean his forehead against yours, watching the way your face twists and changes in pleasure and arousal as he begins to unzip your dress. 

Your tits practically spill out once the fabric allows them to, and Hyunjin can’t contain his surprise to find the metalic jewelry in both of them. It’s the first time since coming into this room that you feel like for a brief second, you have the upper hand, “like them?” you twist your body slightly, enough for them to push together whilst he’s still bound your hands together. 

“You’re gonna kill me,” the zipper is completely undone, your dress now open at the front as he takes one of your nipples into your mouth. It’s foreign to him, to feel a metalic object in his mouth, but he doesn’t mind when he hears the way you start panting again. 

He swears you’re the sexiest woman he’s ever seen in his life, and he lets two of his fingers slip between your slick folds again with next to no warning, smirking when you cry his name out, “are you going to be good and come for me again?”

“Y-yes,” he grins, eyes falling onto yours to watch you, see the way your face changes as one of his fingers pushes inside you. The cold metal of his ring makes you clench, and he hisses at the feeling. 

“How the hell are you going to fit my cock if you’re this tight?” he pushes the imposing digit in and out of you, agonising in his movements before he adds another. Hyunjin feels the way you relax more and more, your chest moving up and down with heavy breaths as your eyes begin to close. 

He decides he doesn’t like that, sitting up in a way that allows his free hand to go around your throat, squeezing lightly. The shock makes you open your eyes, and immediately, he stops the small constriction in airflow, “good girl.”

You whimper, a crying sound that turns into a louder moan when a third finger slips inside you, “did you like that?” 

There’s a blush on your cheeks when you nod, and Hyunjin makes a mental note to remember it, “so you like it rougher?”

In a way, it doesn’t surprise him, but it makes him grin as his fingers push deeper, enough for you to arch up, though you’re flat on the matress again when his hand is back on your throat, “is this okay?”

He’s asking out of concern, even if you aren’t offering up much resistance, but he stops the grip he has on you when you don’t say anything first, “yes. Please d-don’t stop.”

“Hmm, you really act like a whore,” he’s grinning, feeling you clench around his fingers at the insult and more and more, his thought that you love to be degraded very much seems to ring true. 

He doesn’t warn you when his thumb finds your clit, nor do you expect it. You’d been so distracted by his fingers inside you and his insults and the hand occasionally on your throat that it was the very last thing you expected, realising how close to the edge you actually were when he teases you there. 

“Yes, yes, yes, don’t stop. Hyunjin p-please,” and how could he say no if you begged so nicely? He leans down, kissing the shell of your ear before he whispers. 

“On one condition,” you’re ready to give anything, feeling tears sting at the corners of your eyes from the frustration you feel, “you ride my cock like the slut you are.”

It pushes you over the edge, your eyes squeezing shut as your body pushes off the bed again, though he’s quick to push you down and hold you there with his free arm, fingers still deep inside you as your walls clench around him. His thumb is still teasing your clit, briefly stopping the motion to spit on the throbbing bundle of nerves before letting his saliva mix with your orgasm. 

Your come is along his forearm and even on his thighs with the way he’d been sat, but he’s relentless on not stopping, enough to send an afterwave of another shattering orgasm that has you squirting onto him again, and you’re crying and screaming his name over and over from pleasure that’s too much. 

He wonders if the whole house hears it, but honestly, he’s not that sure he cares, nor does he care how you’re spilling onto someone’s bedsheets. 

“H-Hyunjin,” your tired arms dig into his biceps, tearing the skin red, making him hiss, fingers slipping out of you before he slaps your pussy, your body arching off the bed when he does, “f-fuck.”

“Open,” you’re barely able to comprehend anything, but your jaw goes slack as you let two of his fingers push in, immediately sucking on his digits and tasting yourself on your tongue, “you made such a mess, princess.”

You groan, still shaking from your orgasm though seeing the way his thighs and arms are glistening in your juices. He looks nearly just as spent, breathing heavily, his hair clinging to his skin by his neck and forehead, but you don’t think you look any better. 

“Let’s take this off,” he helps you out of your dress fully, your underwear following quickly before he strips naked before you. Your jaw practically drops again, seeing his cock spring free and slap his stomach. You feel yourself get more aroused, and it doesn’t surprise you to feel some of your arousal stick to your thighs. 

“You look ruined,” he’s grinning, hand cupping your cheek as he admires the streaks of mascara and mess of light pink lipstick on your face. You still look beautiful.

You push your body up to sit on the edge of the bed where he stands, eye-level with his waist as your hands go to his hips. He seems to know what you’re doing, but he thinks he prefers you in a different position, “knees.”

It’s like you’re possessed, for you’re on your knees in an instant, your heels against your ass while the wooden floor digs into your skin, “open your mouth.”

You do as you’re told, looking up at him just as he spits into your mouth again. When you’re about to swallow it, he tsks, stopping you, “stick your tongue out.”

When you do, he’s grinning, seeing how eager you are to please him makes his cock twitch as he lays the tip onto your tongue. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen someone respond so eagerly, but you wrap your mouth around him immediately, eyes looking up at him wide and innocently. 

He doesn’t know how much longer he can go without fucking you. 

“Good girl,” you love the praise, even as your jaw aches slightly from his girth. His cock is long and thick, your mouth far too small, though you manage to push yourself about halfway before you’re chocking. 

Hyunjin’s hand goes to your hair, tugging it harshly to make you look up, and it’s that innocent look again, sucking on his cock like you’re starved, that makes him lose all reserve, yanking you back so his cock springs free again. You don’t get much of a warning when he leans down, hands going to your waist as he lifts you up rather roughly, making you yelp as your arms go around him. 

His cock is pressed against your folds, making you both moan as the tip grazes your entrance. You’re coating him in your slick, and he doesn’t waste a second to fall back on the bed first with you on top of him. Your small fingers find his cock whilst you lift yourself up, letting his tip push just past your aching hole as you let out a mewl. He’s barely a centimeter inside you and already, you feel painfully tight, “go slow… it’s okay.”

You nod, feeling him steady you by your hips to hold you up if needed, and even though it pains him considerably, he’s letting you choose the pace as he mostly stays unmoving. His cock feels like it’s splitting you open, clenching around him and making him hiss when you do, but you will yourself to relax and slowly inch yourself up and down on the bit of his cock that you’ve managed to fit inside you. 

“Hmm look at you… you’re being so good,” the praise makes you eager and willing, and he feels the way you respond to his words, slowly going an inch further. 

You don’t notice his cock fully inside you until you realise you’re fully straddling his lap, his head rolling back just seeing the way he’d disappeared in you. It’s the sexiest thing he’s ever seen, having you above him, naked and wanting. 

It’s absolutely agony for him to see you slowly bounce up and down, getting used to his length and moaning every time he bottoms out, your tits moving more and more the faster you go, and he reaches to pinch your nipples, teasing the pierced flesh as you whimper before slapping the skin.

“F-fuck,” he wants to move, be rougher, but he doesn’t unless you tell him he can, until you tell him you want more, “m-more.”

It’s like music to his ears, and he immediately begins to meet your thrusts, using the strength in his body to be rougher, his hands finding your ass and giving it a daring slap to see how you react. Your hands fall to his chest, steadying yourself while you bounce on his cock, and he slaps your ass one more time, harder, feeling the way your walls clench tightly around him when he does. 

“You like that?” you nod, a tired yes leaving your lips, and Hyunjin decides that maybe, he’ll let you rest a bit. Though his idea of rest is rather different from most, “sweetheart, let me.”

Feeling his cock leave you nearly makes you cry, but he’s turning you around so your back is to him, slipping himself back inside your pussy without thinking about it much, as if it's molded for him. You’re not sure what he’s planning as he sits up slightly, letting your back fall to his chest, pushing your legs up against your stomach so you’re folded against him, allowing him more control of how deep he goes inside you whilst his hands hold your ankles by your heels. 

You realise quickly that Hyunjin had changed the position because it would allow him to thrust into you faster, and he’s immediately relentless with his pace, making you cry out his name as every angled movement of his cock hits inside you beautifully. 

Your tits bounce deliciously, his mouth sucking hickeys onto your shoulder to hide his groans, one arm moving to hold you under your knees while the other finds your throat again, “you’re gonna come on my cock.”

It’s not a request but rather you being told, and you meekly nod as your fingers go over those around your neck, daring him to squeeze tighter. He does, fucking into you harder, hard enough that you wonder if his hips will bruise you, but your senses are overwhelmed and you can’t help it when your free hand goes to your clit, teasing the nerve just like Hyunjin had done earlier. 

It makes him lose it, seeing you pleasure yourself with his cock deep inside you and his hand around your neck, and he’s almost relieved when your body stops moving before it crashes into your third (or fourth?) orgasm of the night, screaming his name so loudly that he knows it was heard downstairs just as his cum spills inside you, coating your walls as you clench and twist in his arms, your sweat covered back sticking to his chest. 

Hyunjin slows, but he’s still thrusting into you, more languid as he pushes his cum inside you, and you let out a strained moan when you see him slip out of you, the mess of both your orgasms on his cock and spilling out of you whilst you try to regain your breathing. 

It’s peaceful first, as you lay next to Hyunjin trying to kick your heels off, though you eventually give up and he does it for you with a little laugh, though he's interrupted with a knock on the door. 

“Hyunjin, what the fuck did you do?” it’s not angry, but you recognise the teasing voice of your best friend and you immediately want to disappear. You’re convinced you can never leave this room again, or if you do, it’ll have to be through the window. 

“I was only trying to help,” you look next to you, about to hit Hyunjin for the way he’s teasing yet the way he lays there, so ethereal and practically glowing from the aftermath still panting, you can’t bring yourself to. 

“Ah, well I take it it was succesful?” there’s laughter, all good natured but it makes you hide in Hyunjin’s chest anyway, and the blonds heart practically melts seeing you push into him. 

“It would be very rude of me not to have been!” 

He kisses your forehead, the laughter fading away and whilst you know they’re only well intending, you know you’ll never live any of it down. If not from Jisung, then definitely from Minho, from what you could gather.

Or Seungmin.

“Are you okay?”

You look up at Hyunjin, seeing the very real concern in his eyes and it takes your breath away. Your silence, however, worries him, and his face immediately turns into a frown, “did I hurt you?”

“No! No, I’m just… tired.” 

He nods, understanding because he feels much the same, but he doesn’t really want to keep you in this mess. 

“Can you get up for me?”

You sit up slowly, his fingers running along your arm in patterns as he urges you on, smiling, “let’s clean you a bit. I’ll drive you to mine and you can shower? I’ll order us some food. How does that sound?”

Honestly, you could really use the meal. That, and food always tasted better when it was free. 

“I like pizza,” Hyunjin laughs, nodding as he does his best to clean up the mess on your body with the ruined sheet that he’ll have to throw on the floor for the laundry (or even burn). 

“Pizza it is.”

got nothing to say aside from feedback, comments, reblogs etc always appreciated and yeah... i got no defense hyunjin has me in a chokehold it's getting toxic fr

masterlist || nav

[hockeyshmockey]

Max Verstappen- Insane

summary: jos and anna verstappen get into an altercation. time for max to step it up.

warnings: cursing, a little bit of violent moments, implied childhood trauma...

an: this is a work of fiction, I do not know these characters, so pls take it all with a grain of salt

For as long as Max and Anna had been friends, and later together, Anna had never been the biggest fan of his father. The way the man treated Max, and even his ex wife when she would attend races the older man was also at, had always rubbed Anna the wrong way. 

She found herself spending many a night soothing Max after a verbal lashing from Jos. Whether it was about his driving, or his personal life, the man never held back. When Anna and Max had gotten married, the woman was under no delusion that the man would become a better version of himself.

When she and Max had found out they were expecting their first child, a little boy, she had hoped somehow Jos would see the light. But standing in the garage during the opening race of the season, with a two year old Emilio Verstappen on her hip, she knew the man had a few screws loose. 

(lets imagine some 2022 season opener issues for red bull again ok)

“What the fuck!” Jos shouted, jumping from his seat as Max’s car came to a halting stop on the side of the track only 10 minutes after starting the race. Anna made herself scarce as the man geared up to scream at Christian and headed to join Bradley where he was conversing with GP.

“What has happened?” Anna asked the men, bouncing Emilio who seemed to sense the atmosphere and had begun fidgeting. She moved constantly as she listened to GP list out the issues with the car as they waited for Max to return to the garage. 

“So the engine-”

GP was interrupted by a sharp call of Anna’s name, the blonde turning around to face a fuming Jos. 

“Yes?” she asked with an arched brow. 

“What are you doing over here bothering GP and Bradley?” The man huffed. 

“You mean asking what made the car stop?”Anna clarified as the man’s face began to turn red. 

“Anna, you get your smart ass back over to the back of the garage,” Jos tried to step threateningly towards Anna, stopped by Bradley placing a hand out in warning. “Oi, you stay out of this,” he turned his ire to the man then. “This has nothing to do with you.”

As his grandfather’s voice got louder, Emilio began to whimper and began to let out hiccuping sobs as Jos’ voice became a yell. “Shhh darling,” Anna whispered, rubbing the boys back as he latched onto her neck tightly. “It’s ok-”

“Boy!” Jos yelled again, turning back to Anna and Emilio. “The garage is no place for crying. You shut him up or else-”

“Jos, I would stop right now,” Anna cut him off at a hiss, eyes narrowed. “You may get away with talking down to your son like that, but don’t make that mistake here.”

“You little bitch,” the man became even more embarrassed, realizing he had gotten the attention of the whole garage. “You get out of here.”

“You’re a joke,” Anna rolled her eyes. “You are so self important, thinking you have the right to kick anyone out of here. Are you a driver? No you’re just living vicariously through your son and expecting to be praised for his work.”

Anna shouldn’t have been surprised when Jos stepped forward to grab her arm in a vice grip and began to tug at her. Both GP, Bradley and Christian, who had wandered over, began to call out the mans name while springing into action. They were all interrupted by a deep voice shouting across the garage. 

“Oi!” A beet faced Max stormed through the garage, the mechanics jumping out of the way as he headed to where his son was wailing in his glaring wife’s arms. “What the fuck is going on?”

“Your bitch of a wife is causing a problem,” Jos scoffed, not bothering to remove his hand as his son approached. He seemed genuinely shocked when Max’s hands came up to shove at his chest, causing him to release Anna. “Max, what-”

“Call her a bitch again,” Max approached his father, chest heaving in anger. “I’m serious, see what happens.”

“Now listen here,” Jos tried to calm the man down. “She and her kid were causing a distraction in-”

“Her kid?” Max laughed in disbelief. “You mean my son? You are delusional.”

“Oh come now Max,” Jos rolled his eyes. “Let’s go talk with GP about the race-”

“No,” Max glared at his father. “You’re leaving.”

“No I’m not,” Jos laughed, looking around at the room to see everyone staring at him. “I am a guest of Red Bull-”

“No,” he was interrupted by Max again. “You are a guest of the World Champion, who races at Red Bull. And as of this moment, you are removed from that list.” He looked over his shoulder at Christian who nodded. “Christian will be escorting you out.”

Max didn’t even bother hearing Jos’ protests as the man was grabbed by two mechanics and walked out with Christian trailing. He turned around to where GP was standing next to a pale Anna who was trying to calm a sobbing toddler. “Shhhh,” Max strode over and wrapped the two of them in his arms, one of Emilio’s little arms coming up to grab at his neck. 

“Come,” he took his son and nodded at GP and Bradley, grabbing Anna’s hand and leading them to his driver’s room. He waited until the door was closed before turning to face Anna who had sunk onto the couch. “Oh liefje,” he sighed, crouching down with a now hiccuping Emilio to wrap her in his arms. “I’m so sorry.”

“I know, it’s not your fault,” she breathed shakily. “I just didn’t expect that. I mean, I should have, but.”

“I should have put him in his place sooner,” Max sighed, pressing a kiss to Emilio’s head and leaning forward to kiss Anna softly. “I’m just so sorry.”

That night, after Emilio had fallen into a fitful sleep, Anna had tugged Max out to the balcony of their hotel to talk. “Max,” she sighed, sitting on one of the chairs. “I love you so much. You are kind, and passionate, and the way you are with Emilio makes me love you more every day. But it has gotten to a point where I’m not sure I feel comfortable with your father around our son.”

“I find it hard to disagree with you,” Max crossed his arms and looked out into the distance. “I remember, when you told me you were pregnant. My first thought was all the things I would do differently. How much Emilio would know I loved him and supported him, even if he never got behind the wheel of a car.”

Anna stood up and wrapped her arms around Max’s chest, resting her forehead against his shoulder. “I kept silent for a long time about how he treated you,” she breathed out. “I know you feel you owe a lot to him, but at some point that stops making up for his behavior. You got to this point with your skill. Jos did not get you the Red Bull seat, or your championship. And it’s time for you to stop letting him act like he’s the one that has accomplished all of this. You are an amazing driver, an amazing father, a great brother and friend. You don’t need that kind of presence, you don’t.”

“I know love,” he turned in her arms, hugging her tightly. “Sometimes I don’t know I never went insane without you.”

“Well,” she smiled softly, rising on her toes to press a kiss to his plush lips. “You will never need to find out.”

[ramp-it-up]

...And Forever

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Enhanced!Reader; Bucky Barnes x Enhanced!Reader

AU: MCU A/U, after TFATWS

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. SMUT! Read at your own risk. Alternate MCU facts/timeline, lies, cursing, angst,  oral, (F, M receiving) fingering, spit play rank kink, size kink, unprotected sex (wrap it up!), sex on a pool table, semi-public sex, a special surprise, stalker-ish behavior, almost Dark!Steve? Not Beta’d. All errors my own.

A/N: I am an MCU nerd but not a timeline detail gal. Please forgive me if the timeline is off. This is an alternate universe and a work of fiction. Please have fun with it! This is the second part to Always.  Enjoy!

---------------------

You opened your eyes to see that you were in what looked like a break room. There was a coffee machine, a round table with five chairs, a row of lockers, two Captain Americas, and a Winter Soldier.

There was some strange conversation going on.

“Then who gave me the shield at the lake…?”  

Sam was questioning Steve, but he stopped talking when you started moving around.  You must have still been in the wedding venue, because you saw the name of the historic building on various items in the room. 

You scowled up at Sam, Bucky and Steve.

You moved to sit up and Steve was at your side. “Easy…”

“Sweetheart, are you okay?”

You squinted at Steve. His hair was shorter and he was clean shaven, but he was still gorgeous. Those blue eyes were full of concern. 

You raised your hand, and he held it, holding it and caressing it as you raised it to his face.

“Is it really you?”

Steve smiled ruefully at you. “Yeah, it’s me.”

You held his cheek and looked at him, bringing your other hand up to the other side of his face. He smiled at you. 

You grabbed him and hugged him hard, and then pulled back again as he held you in his arms. He moved back and pursed those ruby red lips. 

You had this irresistible urge to...slap the shit out of him. And so you did.

The sound reverberated in the room. Steve just stared up at you, with that fucking beautiful face, and then smiled, rubbing his jaw as if it hurt. 

But you knew it didn’t. And you were tired of the bullshit.

Sam and Bucky moved to calm you down, but you were too quick for them, pacing to the other side of the room. 

“All of you can stay the hell away from me. Y’all have some fuckin nerve. Especially you, Steven.”  

Your Houston accent was shining through with your anger.

“Wow, Sweetheart, that was harsh. But I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

You pointed at Steve.

“Fuck you.” 

You were seething, especially when he raised his eyebrow at your comment. But he quickly fixed his face when he saw the rage on yours. You looked at Sam, who just looked down, and at Bucky, who looked like he was in pain.  

Fuck thier feelings.

“I deserve your anger. I didn't tell…” Steve tried it. 

“You don’t deserve a got damn thing. Not even my anger.” 

Steve was stone faced at your vitriol. You were shaking, trying to control your emotions and not cry.  You were so hot. You fought to keep your voice steady.

“I thought you were dead.” It came out as a ragged whisper. But you knew everyone heard you.

Your voice was low, even, and scary. Bucky looked at you with wide eyes. Your own were brimming with tears.

“I thought you were dead and that they didn’t want to tell me.” 

You waved your hand at Bucky and Sam. And you waited until Steve looked you in the eyes again. 

“I thought you were in prison, that someone, on some alien star, forced you to play some sick gladiator games. Or that HYDRA was still around and they turned you into an agent for them. Or that you lost your memory in the blip. So many scenarios played in my mind, Steven.”

Steve knew better than to talk. This was his time to listen.

“But I never ever once thought that you chose this. Never thought it was your choice to leave and to stay away.”

“Listen…” Sam started speaking.

“Shut the fuck UP, Samuel.” 

If you had Bucky’s knives, all of them would be seriously injured right now.  

“You knew that he was alive and you didn’t tell me. Despite me begging for any kind of information.”  

Sam just pursed his lips and returned your glare.  You were right.

You went and stood in front of Bucky.

“James…” 

He looked at you, those pained eyes making your stomach flip.  

“How could you?  You knew?”

He just stared at you. Retreating into not speaking.

Steve spoke up.

“Yes, I left. Yes, it was my choice.  I thought I could… Well, let’s just say that hindsight is 20/20 and you can’t ever go back. I swore Sam and Buck to secrecy and I asked them to take care of you.  This all just got out of hand.  Didn’t it Buck?”

You watched Steve in disbelief and you swiveled your head toward Bucky and Sam again.

“You both lied to me. And Sam. Did you tell Steve to come back and ruin my life?”

Sam scoffed, offended. “No. I didn’t. S.H.I.E.L.D gave Steve quarterly updates.  You and Bucky happened so fast…” 

You ignored his explanation.

“But you knew exactly where he’d gone.”

“Yes.” Sam was cornered.

You turned back to Bucky. 

“I asked you a question earlier. Did you know?”

He nodded, imperceptibly.  “Doll… I…”

“James Buchanan Barnes. You knew?” Your heart was breaking even more than it was.

“Yes, but it’s complicated. He didn’t come back, at least not the way he left, and I thought it was a done deal. I thought he found…”

You interrupted him. 

“What. Happiness?” 

You turned back to Steve. “Is that what you were looking for, Steve? Happiness?”

“Sweetheart, you made me happy, I just had the chance to finally settle some unfinished business.”

You nodded.

“So James here took advantage of your little vacation to get with his best friend's girl while you explored your other options. Cool.”

It was not cool.

“Do you remember when you asked me if you could trust me, Steve?”  

He just gave a little smile and came to stand before you, looking down at you in that way of his.  He was trying to shake you. You were unshakeable. You raised your chin and looked right in his eyes.

“What you don’t understand is that you can’t pick and choose the pieces of life that you want, Steven.” 

You moved away from all of them. Steve stepped toward you, but stopped when you held up your hand.

“I’ve lived my life for everyone else, for this country, for as long as I can remember.  I deserve a little piece of life, Sweetheart.”  

Steve really believed what he was saying.

“What about me? Do I get a choice?”

Steve looked around at his two best friends, who were now best friends, and his best girl.

“You’re right. I think you should. You should choose.”

Your mouth hinged open. You spoke at the wall, then looked at Bucky.

“What about you, James? Do I need to choose?”

Bucky walked in front of you

“No Doll. You don’t have to choose.”  

You looked up into his eyes.  Damn, he looked so handsome in his bespoke grey suit that he chose for the wedding. And the tie that you gave him set off his eyes.  

“I just….  I just wanted a piece of happiness too. I knew you were Steve’s girl.”  He took both of your hands in his. 

“I don’t deserve you. When Steve didn’t come back, and you and I connected, I couldn’t help it. I was just going to keep an eye out, but…”

He gave you that cute little side smile of his.  And then he kissed you. It was short and sweet and oh so hot. You looked up at him, shook to the core. And then he ruined it all.

“I love you Doll. It was nice while it lasted.” 

Bucky was giving up. 

You nodded and backed away. Not believing this situation. 

“Ok. I’m making my choice.” 

You raised your chin and looked at Steve and Bucky.

“I’m not some fucking marble that you pass around, play with, and trade with your friend.” 

You took a deep breath.  “I choose me.”

You were gone in a flash, before they could even register it.  And although they ran, they couldn’t catch you before you were out of reach.

-----

Three months later, you walked through the late August soup of Houston heat to the bar, pausing when you thought you heard footfalls behind you. You used your speed to zip along to Willy’s; you were safe there.

You were back sharking with the best of them.  But your training was put to good use.  You never got burned and you never got caught.  You were making a good living.  

There were a jumble of misfit super humans who had gathered there with you.  You were a leader now. And you were doing well on your own. It was a life.

You already knew he was coming, and maybe that’s why you moved to the back room to play.

You were prepared, but when you felt him, you still lost your breath.  But you recovered quickly, straightening your spine, despite the fact that he was standing so close to you.

You looked at the dartboard on the wall across from you and chalked your cue.

“Don’t you have other things to take care of? Other wheres? Other whens maybe?”

You learned more about time travel since you’d left New York, and you understood more of what happened. 

The Avengers had access to time travel.  If only you could go back… but no. You were stronger than those men.  You could live with your decisions. And move forward.

“No. What I need to take care of is right here. Right now.”  

His deep growl stirred something inside you, and you fought your body, which was becoming moist at his proximity.

You bent over the table, super soldier dick poking you in the ass before you drew your pool cue back sharply into his stomach.  Abs of steel met the cue and nearly broke it.  He just stepped aside and shook his head at you.

You turned your head to look into his aqua blue eyes and you fell in love all over again.  Shit.

You gave up and turned around, leaning back against the pool table, because he wasn’t giving an inch, not moving from your space.

You scanned the room and your people were watching, but keeping your distance. They all knew who he was, and your history. They gave you space, but wouldn’t let you be hurt without a fight. You nodded at them and they all went to the front, giving you more privacy.

He nodded in their direction. 

“People fall under your spell fast, I know that all too well. They trust you.”

You lifted your head. “I’ve never done anything to make them not trust me.”

He sighed.  “Point taken.”

“Why did you come here?  I know that you’ve known where I was. Sam must have told you.” 

“I’ve known where you were. How could I not? I didn’t need Sam to tell me. It’s not like you were trying to hide.”  

He cocked his head at you.

“But the reason that I’m here, now, is that I’ve always been slow at math. And I just put two and two together.”

You smirked up at him. “You’re right. This is home. A leopard doesn’t change her stripes.”

He just chuckled at your evasion.

“You wanna play a game?” 

His eyes followed you, undeterred by your challenge.

You walked around to the other side of the table, leaned over and gathered the balls to be racked. 

You held two in one hand and looked at him.  He smiled and the electricity at the small of your back was everything. He slowly walked around to you as you racked them.

He took in your form (including your ample cleavage) as you bent over the table and your mouth as you said the word, “Break.”

“I’m tired of playing games, Doll. I’m just here to win you back.”

You turned around and faced him, looking up at him, now aware of his smell.  You closed your eyes and inhaled leather and metal. You opened them again and his eyes were blazing.

“James.. I”  

Bucky grabbed your face, hands gently cradling your head, and cut you off with a kiss, his lips gentle at first. Then his hands moved to your hips and lifted you onto the table. He slotted himself in between your thighs, your bodies separated by the same brand of black denim. 

His lips and tongue seemed determined to possess you. Bucky kissed and felt your body like he hadn’t in a lifetime. His hands roamed you like they were starved from touching you. 

Your hands were on his neck and in his hair, relishing the feel of him. You’d  missed him so fucking much. You drew apart, and his breath fanned your face as you two panted together, his forehead resting on yours.

“I am never going to let you go again.”

“James…”

“Hold on Doll, I’ve got to say this.” 

He smiled and gave you another quick peck.  You nodded, solemn.

“I said the wrong thing back in Brooklyn. I don’t care that you were with him first. I don’t care if you think that you might want to be with him. When I fell for you, I fell harder than I ever have. Even from the train.”  

He was whispering the words you wanted to hear months ago, causing you to cry.  But a lot of things caused you to cry lately. 

Bucky smiled at you, his eyes crinkling in that adorable way that you loved. You opened your mouth to speak and he kissed you, silencing you again. You responded with a smile. He continued.

“I know that you think that I folded and just gave up on you on our wedding day. I was just thinking that I don’t deserve you. Especially next to Steve.  I mean, you won’t find a better man.  But in the time since, I’ve realized, even though it’s hard. I’m a good man too.”

“You are, James…”

“You helped me come to terms with everything that’s happened. Sam has helped me deal with everything I did...and I’m not perfect, and neither are you, but we can be perfect for each other.”  

You nodded, smiling a little.

“I’m in love with you and I deserve you. You deserve me. We deserve each other.  And I’m not saying this because I think you saved me. But you are the strongest woman I know, enough to be with me when I am weak. I figured out that I can be strong for you too. I have to be now. I am so sorry that I let you walk away. But I’m not going to let you out of my sight now, even if you don’t want to be with me.  But I am asking you, again. Be my family. Make one with me. Choose me.”

You shook your head as tears fell from your eyes.

“James Barnes, there was never ever any choice. It’s you. It will be you. Forever.”

Bucky let out a sigh of relief and started kissing you all over your face, down your neck and into your cleavage.

“I was scared shitless, Doll! I love you so much,…”

You kissed him now, your hands under his jacket, slipping it off his shoulders. Next, you went under his shirt, feeling his nipples, playing with them as he shuddered. Then your hands went up to one cold shoulder and one warm, grasping them as he ground his hard jeans covered crotch into yours.

“Too many clothes.”

You ended up helping him pull his shirt over his head. You trailed your hand back down his abs to the button on his jeans.

“I missed you James. My hormones are going crazy, Baby…”  

His eyes got wide as you popped the top button and bit your lip.  Bucky moaned.  He was about to explode just being near you.

“Th-that’s what we need to talk about…”

“Talk later. Fuck. Now.”

Bucky looked over your shoulder to the other room. To his surprise, the door was now closed.

“Wow, they…”

You hopped down from the table and got on your knees in front of him.

“You gonna let me suck your dick or not James?”

He looked down at you smirking up at him and could feel himself leaking in his jeans.  Three months of his hand had been torture, thinking of you.  

It seemed as if he unfastened and pulled himself out without knowing.  For a moment he feared mind control. 

But it was just love and lust.

You grasped him, testing his girth and admiring how your fingers did not meet around his cock.  

“Mmmmmmmm,” you moaned while you thumbed his tip, collecting the pre-cum and lubricating him as you pumped.

He stared at you, slack jawed and sexy as he watched you.  He reached down and put his hand in your hair, massaging your scalp.

You commanded him. “Eyes on me, Sergeant.”

Bucky locked eyes with you and watched as you licked your lips, opened your mouth, and spit on his cock.

“Fuck.”

You pumped him a couple of times before you opened wide and took him as deep as you could, relishing the feel of his wide, smooth, hard unit in your mouth.  You pulled off of him with a pop.

“Damn I missed this dick.” 

Then you deep throated him again, making Bucky have to hold on to the side of the pool table as he held your head while you spluttered around him.

“And I missed your pretty little mouth, Doll. Damn.”  He watched as you did it a few more times.

When you looked up and  he saw your ruined face, Bucky went feral.

He pulled you up by your shirt, pulling it over your head and wiping your face with it.  Then he kissed you.

“Fucking love how you do that, Doll.”  

He started kissing down your chest, pulling your breasts out of your bra, pinching and rolling your nipples gently, a little more carefully than usual. He looked at you knowingly as you squirmed in pleasure.

“I’ve been doing my research.”  

Then, he leaned down and suckled them with that mouth until you almost came, writhing in his arms. Bucky unbuttoned your pants and pulled them down, kneeling, and staring up at you as you leaned against the green felt table.

You stepped out of your jeans and panties and watched as his flesh hand glided from your ankle to your ass, palming it and then sliding back down as he lifted your thigh on his shoulder.  You shuddered as you could feel his breath on your cunt.

“I’ve been dreaming of this.”  

His eyes held yours as he leaned in for a kiss, then a long wet lick of your cunt.  You grabbed his brown hair as his blue eyes hypnotized you and as he ate you out. When his metal fingers came up, whirring, you started begging.

“Please, James…please…please…..”

He laughed, mouth still fucking your pussy. He pulled away, chin glistening with your juices. His fingers began pumping inside you, the vibration driving you up the wall.

“Are you begging me to stop, or to continue, Doll? Talk to me.”

“Unnnh, unnnnh, oooohhh shittttt. Don’t ever stop.” 

And then you came all over his face,  Bucky slurping it up happily.  He stood up, taking you with him and maneuvering you so that you could feel his thick tip at your hole before it breached you. 

Bucky’s cock stretched you out and made you see stars as you slid down his thick pole while he was standing up, pumping inside you as he deposited you on the table.

You wrapped around him like a vine as he held you, cock pounding from the feeling of being inside you again. He pulled back to kiss you again.  He was grunting in his throat as he tried to speak.

“Fuck you feel so good...Fair warning, Doll. I���m not going to last. Been too long.”

You let go of him, and leaned back on the felt, arms braced behind you as you replied, “Just fuck me James.”

Bucky took in your body, from where you were connected up your torso to your breasts and the beautiful fucked out look on your face and started moving.

“Fuck, fuck, fuckkk.”  You took him, looking down to see the impossible stretch.

“Yeah, look at that. Looks and feels so damn good, doesn’t it, Doll? How the fuck are you so… so… fucking… tight….?”

“Yes, fuck, James, FUCKKKKK.”

All nerves were in your cunt as you went down to your elbows, and then to your back flat on the slate table, pool balls going everywhere.

Bucky pulled your hips off the table and really started digging in, hips snapping at a frenzied pace as his metal hand slid down your body. You could tell that he was almost there.

“Cum with me Doll.” 

When that metal thumb touched your clit, it was over.  You came as soon as you felt his white hot ropes of cum drench your walls. You closed your eyes for just a second, and then opened your eyes wide.

‘Why am I curled up on a pool table after being fucked by my 106 year old fiance? What is life?”

Bucky laughed as he pulled his shirt over his head and helped you off the table. He looked around, going to get you a bottle of water from the vending machine.

“You good?” 

Bucky eyed you as you got your clothes together.  He leaned next to you as he watched you drink the water.

“Baby okay?”

You ducked your head, smiled and grabbed his hand, putting it on your slightly rounded stomach.

“Yeah. I can feel him moving around.  Can you feel that?”  

Bucky just stared at his hand, then at your face.

“Not really… Him?”  He was astounded.

“That’s normal. I’m gonna be able to feel him before you can, And yeah, Him.”  

You turned more fully toward Bucky and he took you in his arms.  

“I had all kinds of tests, to make sure that he was okay.  I wanted to know if… if what they did to me would affect…. “ 

You shook your head, then smiled up at Bucky.

“He’s healthy.  I’m 20 weeks. I figured we’d call him Jamie?”  

Bucky beamed at you and nodded. 

“How did you know?”

“Well, I figured out that you didn’t faint at the wedding just because of Steve. Why didn’t you tell me, Doll?”

You rolled your eyes.

“Are you really asking me that question?”  

Bucky blanched and you decided not to be salty. 

“Well, At first, I didn’t want you to feel trapped. I was so happy that you asked me and didn’t know.”  You beamed at him. “ But then…” Your smile faded.

“I’m an idiot, Doll. Forgive me.  It’s me and you. And Jamie. Forever.”  

You two shared the kiss you missed at the altar. It was going to be okay.

“Now, let’s go get some food. I know you’re hungry.”

You laughed as you punched his arm. 

“Ass. But you’re right.” 

You two walked down the street to Ninfa’s Restaurant hand in hand. Bucky turned his head and gave an imperceptible nod as you two passed by an alley/

Steve returned the greeting as he stepped out and watched you and Bucky make your way down the street.

“That’s okay Sweetheart,” he whispered. “Buck’s a good man. But I know you’ll choose me. In another time.”

He walked to the quinjet, which was pointed toward New York.

-------

Did Reader make the right choice? What do you think about the surprise?And what the what is Steve thinking? Let me know if you liked it by commenting or reblogging!

Tagging:

@olyvoyl @summerofsnowflakes @sillyteecup @riiyy @honeysucklechocolatedrippin @theselilwonders @lonelydance @chattykathysquietsister @anh1020 @nissameta1782 @afriendlyblackhottie @betterkeepmewetterthanabayou @jbrizzywrites @stilltoyou  @donutloverxo @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @kiwisa @food8me @aiikaa @marvelfansworld  @london-grunge @pheebsyells @thesecretlifeofdaydreams-bl-blog @douxtille @ximaginexx @fofisstilinski @bertieandberries @ladystrawberry @bit-of-a-timelord @chesca-791 @calimoi @fangirlfree @bbaengtan @karolsboo @aliceforbes @insertpithyusername @sickknik @photmath @whorekneebrain  @anacrcarvalho @iconicshit @spicybibimbap @fineanddandy @olyvoyl @chaoticsteverogers@txtsfromyourex @sadthotsonlylove @ikatieebabyy@nerdymugsharkempath @maroonsunrise83 @curlyhairclub @spookyparadisesheep @keepingitlokiii​ @weaselbeedisneygeek @toofab4utheatrediva

[sukirichi]

dutifully yours. [01]

Attached to the could’ve been’s of a promised happily ever after with the Crown Prince disguised under a scheme for power and greed, you are torn between choosing your happiness — or abandoning it to fulfill your duty as the future Queen.

→ unedited bcos i’m brave lazy. implied patriarchy. angst in future chapters. pure romance and fluff for now. royalty au. eventual smut. prince naoya !! i love him sm i could cry. this fic will break me, okay. naoya is close to canon but with my twist if that makes sense. drama in future chapters. oh and listen to this while reading <3

→ massive shoutout to my besties for always hyping me and helping me uwu, i present this token of prince naoya being an ideal husband okay cry cry i love him sm im crying. anyways pls enjoy bcos i poured my heart out to this and bcos i want more people in the naoya fucker club :>

one | next (to be posted)

Ever since the day your mother taught you how to read, you’ve had your nose buried in a book. Losing yourself in different worlds, swooning over fictional princes, and fantasizing for a love story ripped out of fairytale itself with such burning, passionate romance – you’d been through it all, dreamt of it all. And yet, you struggled to stop yourself from tugging at your dress.

The tight corset hadn’t even been the main focus of your worries, and neither was the heavy rivière resting on your collarbones.

“Would you stop fidgeting?” Beside you, your mother pursed her lips, fingers decorated with jewels stopping in their movements of fanning herself. The temperature hadn’t been particularly high inside the limousine that evening. You supposed it was the mere sight of you tugging and gulping audibly every now and then, gloved hands running over the hems of your collar.

You ducked your head down. “Sorry, Mother. I can’t help it.”

“Dear, your anxiety is written all over your face,” she sighed, turning your face to her as she cupped your cheeks. Smiling tenderly like a mother always did, your heart felt soothed even by the slightest bit. You wished she could keep holding you like this – like you were a fragile flower she was afraid of breaking; a fragile flower that needed more care handled than most. Tonight, however, you felt a hundred years older. Like you’d accidentally clicked on fast forward and got launched to the future. A future that seemed so unclear yet so...perfect. So right.

“How would the Prince fancy you if you’re sweating bullets like that? It’s not a good look for a marquess’ daughter.”

At the mention of the Crown Prince, your heart sank again. “My apologies, Mother. I’m just rather nervous. It’s the Crown Prince we’re talking about here.”

“He is quite the looker, isn’t he?” she giggled behind her fan, “Strong and handsome, as well.”

“My ladies. You are not fantasizing over the Crown Prince in my presence, are you?”

Crossing her leg over the other, your mother leaned forwards, elbows on her knees as she winked at your father. The marquess had his torso half twisted from the passenger seat, glaring playfully at your mother’s unabashed features. “It is of no seriousness, My Lord. I’m simply easing your daughter’s nerves.”

Your father sighed in worry. “What’s got you so worked up, child? You are beautiful. The Prince would be blind to not notice you.”

Each fibre in your body screamed in desperation for your father to be right. Tonight was not just any other night – the entire Kingdom, including noblewomen, foreign royals, and unwed daughters from honourable families had been invited to the Zen’in Castle for one purpose only: to find his Crown Prince a suitable wife, one that would be fit to be the next Queen as well. As the daughter of the marquess, you’d naturally received the invitation. It felt just like yesterday when the mail arrived and you’d cheered so much in joy the chickens went flying out of their coops, your horses galloping and whinnying at surprise, and now you here – minutes away from the palace where you were soon to be deemed worthy or unworthy to be beside His Highness.

With a shaky smile, you dug your nails into your thighs. “Well, we’ve only met once, Father. I doubt the Prince would remember me.”

“Just smile, darling. You will do great.”

To no one’s surprise, the Zen’in Castle brimmed with people and esteemed guests. Men and women danced with one another as muted chatters and chuckles blended in with the grand royal orchestra, everyone dressed to the nines and making you feel completely out of place.

The moment you’d been welcomed by the knights and led to the palace doors, your dress began to feel tighter than usual, your ribs clenching uncomfortably from the pressure. Your hands had not stopped trembling either, not even when you hid it behind your back and nodded at the people passing by. There were governor-generals, dukes, earls, professors and royal advisors and even families of the royal family’s inner circle of knights. Everyone looked like they belonged here. Chatting amongst one another over the finest of wines or discussing conspiracies on where the Kingdom of Zen’in would be in the next sixty years of the future King’s reign, no one here seemed to be out of place.

Everyone except you.

A warm hand was suddenly placed on the small of your back, making you gasp. Your mother’s smile was nothing short of warm as she held you close to her one last time, leaving a kiss on your forehead. You didn’t even realize how much you shook until she clasped her hands with yours. “Calm down, dear,” she reminded, “You’ll be on your own now. This is where we leave you since we’re not supposed to mingle with potential princesses.”

“Mother!” Your eyes widened in embarrassment. Looking around frantically, you bit your lip in fear someone must’ve heard.

Of course, while it would be no surprise most guests – if not all – hoped that their daughter would be the Crown Prince’s chosen fiancée, it still felt wrong to boldly assume such when you could barely keep up with the events of tonight.

However, your mother merely laughed. “I am proud of you, dear. Never forget that. It doesn’t matter whether you are chosen or not. We’re only here for formality and respect to the King and Queen’s demands.”

“You say that as if the Crown Prince really would not bother with me.”

“We didn’t mean that,” your father cut in, a flute of champagne already nested between his calloused fingers. Ever since you arrived, he’d been snatched away by fellow earls and barons, disappearing into the crowd for a ‘hearty conversation over one’s lands.’ You knew better than that, though. That statement always translated to which leader got to have more chances to wine and dine with the King, to which your family was ridiculously reminded of that you’d been stationed to the most faraway land where even hearing news from the royal papers was but a privilege.

“Just be yourself, alright? And enjoy the party. It’s about time you met with girls your own age and made some friends.”

“I – Father, wait!”

A slender young woman slithered to your side out of nowhere, her golden brown eyes following the silhouettes of your parents. It wasn’t long before they completely disappeared. Left alone with the stunning woman that was – for some reason – dressed in a plain black curve hugging dress too modest for tonight’s appropriateness, you took three steps away in caution. “You must be from way up North,” she noted, her head to the tipped to the side. “I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.”

God, was she beautiful. Long, thick eyelashes and short hair chopped in messy yet elegant curves, you struggled to hold her gaze. “Oh, yes, I come from the Terratian Borders. My family is stationed there under His Majesty’s orders.”

She hummed to herself. “The Terratian Borders are mostly forests and fields, no? The last time my family and I visited there, I came across the loveliest dandelions I’ve ever laid eyes on. Shame they died on the way back,” offering her hand – again, bare and empty with decorations yet still littered with faint scars and cuts – she beamed at you. “I’m Mai, by the way. Mai Zen’in.”

Zen’in?

Hands cupping your mouth, you bowed deep until your back ached. “Lady Mai!” you shut your eyes closed, unable to live with the shame. Mai Zen’in; one of the iconic twin pair from the extended Zen’in royal family, both a fashion icon and a legend for being a rumoured female knight. To have her in your presence was an honour. “My apologies for not recognizing you any sooner, Lady Mai!”

“Stand up, I’m not a royal,” she sniggered, “We’re just relatives of the actual monarch, but don’t let the family name fool you. The Crown Prince barely even acknowledges us being of the same blood.”

Albeit hesitant, you followed her gestures of making you stand up. You straightened your back and cleared your throat, fighting the urge to go haywire the moment his name was brought into the conversation. Not only would you be seeing Prince Naoya again in real life for the first time in years, but you’d also made acquaintances with his distant niece. However, his name was spoken with malice.

Frowning, you faced Lady Mai in all seriousness. “Prince Naoya? Why so?” Lady Mai looked at you like you’d grown two heads.

“He’s an ass, that’s why.”

“I-I don’t think he is,” you defended, “The Prince has been nothing but kind to me.”

“I didn’t know he was capable of kindness,” she muttered more so under her breath, low enough you were unsure whether you were supposed to hear it in the first place. Lady Mai then shook her head to herself before stealing a flute from a waiter passing by. Chucking it your way, her face turned dark and grim. “Take it as free advice: stay as far away from his as possible. The Crown Prince is nothing but good news.”

“Is it because he has lots of lovers?” you inquired with a small voice, “Uhm – well – It was an assumption. With a title and handsomeness like that, it would make sense everyone would want to be the Crown Prince’s lover.”

Lady Mai’s lip curled upwards. “Prince Naoya won’t bother with lovers. He is too occupied for that.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“Heard from whom?”

“The Royal Declaration from His Majesty himself,” you said, “Was it not the purpose of this ball? To find worthy candidates to be the Crown Prince’s betrothed? His coronation is coming soon.”

“Right. I forgot today was technically a bridal market,” she scratched the edge of her brow, falling silent for a moment. Her eyes scanned the lively crowd for a brief moment – watching with you as everyone laughed and danced to their heart’s content – the grand final event of the routine personal dance with the Crown Prince himself slowly approaching to reality. “You are joining in the festivities, are you not? Later, when he arrives, he shall meet you.”

“I am obligated to as a noble bachelorette, though I doubt His Highness would even look my way. There are far richer noblewomen here and even daughters of duke that would be perfect as his wife. ”

“You may have a point for that,” she hummed to herself, unaware that her agreement to the Crown Prince not paying attention to you left a sting both in your ego and heart. Not that it lasted long, for Lady Mai was already tugged on the arm by another equally fiercely beautiful woman – her older twin, Maki Zen’in. Soon to be governon-general of the Kingdom.

Lady Mai smiled in apology. “I need to go now since I’m not a part of this event. But hey, if ever I come around to visit the Borders again, perhaps you could entertain me?”

“I would be honoured to, Lady Mai.”

“You are sweet and innocent,” it was her sister who spoke this time, glasses perched high on her nose that concealed the wariness of her gaze. “I hope the Crown Prince never gets to your routine.”

“I’m sorry?”

“It’s nothing; she was talking to herself. Maki does that a lot,” Lady Mai’s forced chuckles were barely heard from the music. “You enjoy the party now. Don’t drink too much lest you want to embarrass yourself in everyone’s eyes and be talk of the Kingdom. Prince Naoya would hate it if you took the attention away from him.”

“Oh, uhm...”

“It’s a joke, Lady Y/N. Relax.”

You bowed once more. “My apologies.”

“The dance is about to begin,” Maki tapped on your shoulder, making you look up right where her eyes zeroed in. And exactly in the middle of the grandiose hall, under the sparkling golden chandeliers where he made all the gold in the world look incomparable next to him, the Crown Prince stood in his fully glory. Blond hair with the ends stained of midnight gelled back to reveal his forehead, the Crown Prince’s beauty never failed to shine. Whether it be in the papers, in the tabloids, in the billboards that you passed on the way to the city, or from way back when you met him for the first time as a naive, innocent teen – Crown Prince Naoya came straight out of a magazine cover.

In the back of your head, you could hear either of the twins murmuring good luck. Maybe both of them had said it – you had no idea. All of your attention, all the sensibility and coherence of your state had been switched the next instant, as if your heart and soul was born for the sole purpose of being bewitched by your Crown Prince.

And as if feeling someone’s gaze on him, the Crown Prince’s eyes trailed over the crowd. Almost boredly, his sharp eyes bounced from one giggling woman to another, the ends of his lips smirking upwards for just the tiniest bit. It must’ve stroked his ego. Until his eyes connected with yours. The Crown Prince’s eyebrows knitted together. You had no idea how you looked in that moment, and quite frankly, you didn’t care. Because the Crown Prince was looking at you, and you were looking at him with hearts in your eyes along with your heart pulsing at the tip of your tongue.

“Let us begin,” his lips moved from the distance, “Play the music. I shall dance with my bride.”

The air shifted in a split second. Murmurs were thrown over the room, women and men alike turning pale. Even the orchestra was stunned from the Crown Prince’s entrance – and it hadn’t even been dramatic to his standards – yet the whole castle fell mum from just a few of his words. A few seconds later, the crowd recomposed itself, and the strings began to dance along with its bows.

You are pushed into the crowd. Nearly colliding into the arms of another, you quietly thank the masked man who was to be your first partner of the night.

All the men joining the dance floor dressed with the intention of making the Crown Prince shine. Prince Naoya stood out from the throng of white as per the colour code, his blood red uniform as both Prince with the  golden crest of the military leader pinned to his right breast. The other men meant to be filler partners until all the potential brides got to their designated three minutes with the Prince were all dressed in black, faces covered behind a plain black mask. None were allowed to talk. None were allowed to utter even a word, and so your partner pursed his lips in displeasure at your apology.

Whatever. You just had to wait a few more rounds before the song finished and transitioned into a new one; the song where you’d been informed would be your time alone with the Prince.

You’d been so lost in your head you barely breathed the entire dance. From partner to partner, you blanked. Your heart drummed so wildly in its cage it begged to come out, and strings of apologies were let out each time your masked partners grimaced for a brief second when their hands came in contact with your sweaty ones. Around you, all the lovely women smiled and danced graciously, mouths moving in unreadable conversations shared with the Crown Prince. Not once did you look at the six partners you’ve danced with. Not once did you worry about tripping on your own feet. Not once did you care that some of the masked men held you a little too roughly for your comfort. Your entire reason for existing in that moment was to witness the Crown Prince himself, mirroring his frown that got deeper and deeper with each woman retreating to the sea of people he’d rejected.

Not once did you even think about being one of them – the girls who’ve ducked their heads down as their parents comforted them over not being the chosen one, of bringing ‘dishonour’ to their families that the mighty Crown Prince had deemed them unworthy. Tears streamed down their faces until black ink followed afterwards, lips trembling from silent sobs.

Despite their broken prides – although there was that minority who simply sighed in relief after returning to their own families – no one would dare interrupt the Crown Prince’s dances.

All of these thoughts crossed your mind too late and at the exact time your masked partner pulled away from you, body half bent in a bow with his arm outstretched to the side. Following where he was gesturing at, your eyes met the Crown Prince’s tall and lean stature, a few blond fringes now fallen from his movements.

Even though a thin layer of sweat shone from his face, Prince Naoya remained ethereal.

And like a snake charmed by the musician’s seductive tone, your feet moved on its own. Fingers stretching until it met with the Crown Prince’s large and warm ones, you were now in front of him. With him. Holding him, touching him, meeting him eye for eye and realizing – gold. His eyes burned a deep shade of gold, elegantly rich and heartbreakingly stunning your heart ached.

Before you knew it, your hands began to tremble, feeling as if your body had been corded into a corset three sizes smaller. You could not breathe, and the Crown Prince took notice.

“You are stiff. Do I make you uncomfortable?” Good Saint. If only possible, you would’ve closed your eyes and basked in the deep warmth of his voice. It reverberated from deep within, breathed out with an air of natural authority and profound confidence it made your knees weak. As if sensing his effect on you (though for the wrong reasons, it seemed), Prince Naoya hummed to himself. “This routine shall last for a few minutes before I can let you go, I’m afraid.”

You instantly realized the implications of your silence. “N-not at all, Your Highness! I am honoured to be dancing with you.”

“There is no honour in a choreographed dance. Everyone will dance with me. It’s nothing special.”

Your heart fell. Prince Naoya not only sounded dejected, but detached as well. As if he found no pleasure or specialty in this event, at a time where he had every opportunity to meet his lover, and that this ball was merely a task to be checked off in his already long list of responsibilities. It wasn’t disappointment, per se, but rather melancholy that left a bitter taste in your mouth. Not because Prince Naoya held little to no regards for something you treasured, but because he sounded terribly alone. Like he was simply waiting for it to end out of discomfort.

“It’s special to me, Your Highness,” you blurted out faster than you could stop yourself. For a moment, you feared you may have offended him, but the Crown Prince only laughs.

And when he did – saint, when he laughed – his eyes crinkled into half moons, pearly whites flashing against the bright lights and his whole chest shook with amusement.

You’d never seen him smile this way before.

Prince Naoya’s laughter didn’t cease. Around you, your gut instincts told that people were now beginning to look; the Crown Prince’s deep rumbles of laughter sounded exquisitely like music as well, after all. “ Is it special to you because you are now dancing and within the Crown Prince’s proximity? As much as I presume how exhilarating it might be for those who mostly see me in the papers and in the tabloids, I assure you, dancing with your Prince is not an honour. Especially when you are all sent the invitations based on your status and not your worthy traits.”

“It’s special to me,” you mumbled, growing shy all of a sudden when the Crown Prince nodded at you to continue. “Because...because it reminds me of the first time we met.”

The Crown Prince hummed in amusement.

“We have met before?”

“Yes, Your Highness. I’m from the Terratian Borders – my father is a loyal servant of His Majesty. You visited the borders when you were eighteen and I was sixteen. Do you remember it, Your Highness? You stormed in my private library.”

Indeed, the young barely-out-of-his-teens Crown Prince barged into your home’s library years ago. You were not previously informed he and his parents would be visiting since they arrived wordlessly, so you were stuck in your chambers as usual, killing time if not for sleeping and tending to the animals. Perched on a ladder, you attempted to reach for a book on the upper shelf when your foot slipped beneath you. At the age of sixteen, you were dramatic enough to say your life flashed before your eyes. You would’ve screamed then had strong arms not appeared out of nowhere, the Crown Prince staring at you with wide, golden eyes as they were now, his breathy rasped as he asked, are you okay, my lady?

The mere recollection of that fateful memory had your cheeks warming in delight. “You were so charming and heroic back then. Even when I had no idea you were a royal, I would have still believed you to be princely,” you said rather absentmindedly, blinking once then twice at your words. “Of course, it’s understandable if you do not remember, Your Highness!”

“My apologies. I do not remember, though Terratia is a wonderful place. Such a shame I was not informed beforehand they had a lovely daughter.”

“Thank you, Your Highness,” you cheered back, cheeks and jaw beginning to ache from how wide you were smiling. But could anyone blame you? You felt absolutely silly that you were a breath away from passing out minutes ago, and now here you were, dancing with the Crown Prince and sharing memories with him like it was a daily occurrence. The words it’s true love when you feel at peace with them suddenly rang back at your head from that latest romance novel you read, and you turned away, hoping the Crown Prince would not read your thoughts to your face. However, Prince Naoya’s lips pursed into a thin line, all traces of humour now disappeared. “I’m sorry – should I not have laughed?”

“No, I don’t mind,” he mused with his jaw locked tight, “I just haven’t seen anyone react that way before.”

“Like what?”

“Like my words meant the entire universe to them. I may dare even say you look terribly in love, though I cannot blame you on that one, can I?”

Prince Naoya shook his head the minute the words left his mouth. Forcing himself to believe it couldn’t be real, perhaps, you truly did not know anymore. Your only plan for tonight was to see the Crown Prince and get to live out your dream of seeing him once more even for just a brief moment before you travelled back home while he married another, and yet – “Your Highness, I’m in love with you. I have always been since the day we met.”

You could no longer stop the words. The voice at the back of your head begged you to shut up and not cause a scene, that your time had passed up and people were staring, yet you remained in his arms no matter how much you wanted nothing more than for the ground to swallow you whole.

“Please do not misunderstand me, Your Highness. I did not come here to attempt to steal your heart and be your wife, though I will admit I have dreamt of meeting you again for so many moons. I...I only want to tell you this. That I love you and even though it was a brief moment, I think the love I’ve always read about felt real and possible for the first time in my life,” chuckling nervously, you gather to courage to face him, adoration shining for the Crown Prince stood shock still before you, however stunned he may be. “I love you, Your Highness. I love you. And to whoever lucky woman you choose to be your betrothed, I hope she takes care of you and showers you with all the affection you are deserving of. You would make a great King. So God help his Crown Prince, and may you lead us all into a better world.”

Prince Naoya did not budge a muscle. His eyes remained hard on yours, breath warm as his nostrils fumed. With each passing second that he did not speak, you grew restless and tugged your arm away from his hold with a disgraceful smile.

You’d truly crossed your line. The repercussions to be faced for this impoliteness would destroy your family’s honour. You had to leave. “Your Highness? The song has changed. It’s time to let go—”

The Crown Prince inched close enough until his hair tickled your cheeks, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine as he pulled you close, close enough that your lower bodies touched. Skin ablaze with heat, you dared not move an inch. “Do you mean it?” he demanded lowly, his fingers ghosting over your wrist to hold you in place. “Do you truly love me? Not for what I have, not for who I was born to be, but me as a person itself?”

Closing your eyes to shudder in a deep breath, you exhaled. “Of course, Your Highness. Even if you were not born as a Prince, I’m sure I would’ve still loved you in a different universe.”

“But I do not know you.”

“We don’t have to know each other, Your Highness, and we never will. Once you let me go, I’ll return to the shadows where I belong, and I will continue supporting you until the day of your coronation.”

“And if I refuse to let you go?” he clicked his tongue, “What will you do then?”

The Crown Prince’s spicy perfume must be an aphrodisiac or hypnotizer of sorts. Everything he did messed with your mind that it was too late – the music had stopped and people were no longer drinking or chatting. Everyone’s eyes were on you and the Crown Prince. You could only imagine how controversial this position must be; with his lips trailing dangerously close to that sensitive spot in your neck where you nearly moaned. You really needed to leave.

“P-people are looking, Your Highness. You do not want this affair with someone you won’t choose—”

“Who said I won’t choose you?” Finally, he pulled away. But Prince Naoya never once tore his gaze away from yours, nor did he allow you to look at anyone but him as he caresses your jaw so light and feathery you wondered if he was truly there.“Who said I haven’t laid my eyes on you the moment you walked in here? This ball is for naught because of you, Lady Y/N. I’ve already made my choice, and you helped me confirm it as soon as you danced with me.”

“Your Highness...”

“Look at me,” he ordered, your eyes flitting from his pinkish lips to his sharp nose and then to his fox-like gaze. Only this time, Prince Naoya was no longer harsh. “Don’t be scared.”

“But they’re looking.”

“You are with me, of course they’ll look,” he teased, “They wish to be you right now. But ignore them and dance one more time with me.”

It wasn’t like you had a choice, but did it matter? One nod from him was all it took before the orchestra fumbled back to their spots and a new song played, Ode of Moonlight Lovers, and the Crown Prince was guiding you back to where he had originally danced with you.

From the corners of your eyes, you caught a glimpse of your parents with their mouths gaped open; your father looking like he was on the verge of passing out. However, you felt nothing but joy, nothing but the adrenaline pumping through your veins as he danced and twirled you in his arms. When the music stopped and you were both panting for air with silly smiles on your face, it dawned on you that you were with the Prince. No, rather, it was only you and the Prince alone. Even in the sea of people whose faces began to blur, he prevailed crystal clear.

You could recognize him anywhere, find him everywhere.

Prince Naoya stepped impossibly closer until your chests touched, hearts beating as one. Cupping your jaw, he was near enough that he swallowed all your shaky breaths with a small, teasing smile like you both shared a secret the entire world could not know.

“Do I still make you nervous?”

Laughing, you nodded. “Yes, Your Highness. I feel like I’m going to explode.”

“It’s beloved now,” he corrected, face inching closer and closer to a point you could count the number of his lower lashes. “And what do lovers do to seal their union?”

“M-Marriage?”

“Close, but this is much better.”

If anyone were to tell you that you would have a love story ripped out straight from a fairytale, you would’ve laughed at their faces. You were no Cinderella, nor were you a goddess of beauty that could’ve possibly caught the Crown Prince’s eye. Yet, his soft lips were on yours, kissing you with as much passion you could only dream of that you cried.

Strong hands guiding the back of your waist, Prince Naoya dipped you lower to the ground – the grand of finish of his dance. He had chosen his bride.

The crowd cheered and rejoiced all around you, making you smile into the kiss. Fisting his collar to bring him closer to yours, your mouth burst into metaphorical fireworks as soon as his tongue mingled with yours for an experimental taste. He was bitter yet sweet; expensive wine resting on his tongue, yet a delicate vanilla sat heavily on his soft lips that molded with yours. It was a taste you could spend forever being addicted on. And you were crying, crying so much your chest ached and the Prince’s cheeks grew damp from yours. You’d dreamt of this for so long, too long now.

Prince Naoya slowly pulled you away, his thumb wiping the tears away from the pads of your cheeks with tenderness in his touch. However, the Prince was not satisfied. The crowd whooped as he leant down to kiss your forehead. “You are mine now, my princess.”

Looping his hands with yours, the Crown Prince led you out of the castle. The crowd parted naturally to make way for the new couple, and you were left staring at his broad back and the tuft of blond hair where you’d soon find out how soft it would be. Sending one last glance to your crying parents, you waved goodbye. You had no idea where the Crown Prince would take you but you were already bunching your dress up, heart completely filled with trust you did not question it. What mattered tonight and for the rest of your life was that it felt right. That it was him – your beloved Prince Naoya Zen’in and soon to be husband – that you’d follow through the moon and back.

[angstysebfan]

The Past Can Break You - 5

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

AU: Avengers

Summary: You and Bucky have been dating for aa few years. As far as you’re concerned he is the one. But what happens when a blast from the actual past shows up?

A/N: Ive seen a lot stories of Bucky getting his first love from the 40′s back. And I’ve always wondered... what would happen if he was dating someone already? Reader is from this time. Not proofread.

Warning: implied smut, angst is back

--

The next 2 weeks were amazing. Bucky really turned everything around and showed you that he was committed to you. It made you feel so much better. While you felt bad that he now completely avoided Dot, because she is still out of place, you didn’t feel that bad because you knew she was bad news. Whenever she saw you and Bucky together she would scoff and glare at you. It made you uncomfortable.

One day the whole Avengers team was called into a meeting to discuss an upcoming mission. Per Steve and Tony, everyone, except you, were needed. You didn’t like the thought of staying behind with Dot in the compound, but you were a team player, and wouldn’t argue. Bucky on the other hand let Steve have it with both barrels.

“Steve you know the situation with Dot. Can’t someone else stay behind?” he said to Steve.

Steve sighed, “Yes, I know this will be difficult, but everyone else is needed for their skill. Y/N’s skills aren’t needed on this mission. She agreed, so why are you fighting me on this?” Steve argued back.

“Of course Y/N won’t fight this, but I am trying to protect her from Dot. You remember how vicious Dot can be, and I don’t want her to upset Y/N when we just started to get back on track,” Bucky said.

“Look Buck, I get it. I do. But this is how it is. The compound is big enough that Y/N won’t need to be anywhere near Dot. By the way, when are you going to tell her that she needs to start looking for employment and another living situation. She makes everyone uncomfortable. Even Tony is starting to get annoyed at all her questions about FRIDAY, and he loves showing people how smart he is,” Steve asked.

“I-I don’t know. I mean I know I have to do it, especially after what she’s pulled, but I still feel bad for her. I mean she didn’t ask for this to happen, and doesn’t deserve to be thrown out on her ass, but I know it’s the right thing to do. I’ll talk to Y/N about it and see if she has any ideas. Maybe if we help setting her up I will feel better about it,” Bucky said.

“Yea, I know. Let me know if you need help. But we gotta get packed and head to the quinjet. And please don’t worry about Y/N. Your girl is strong, and she knows how Dot is. She will be fine. Besides, we are only gone for like 24 hours, what could happen?” Steve asked.

Bucky didn’t respond and watched as Steve walked out of the meeting room. He ran his hands through his hair, what could happen? He hoped nothing, but he didn’t trust Dot. It’s funny the way she is acting now didn’t bother him when he was in the 40s, but now, because of you, he sees that she is not as great as he thought.

Bucky sighs and heads to your shared room to find you packing his bag for him. He smiles as he walks in, “Hey baby,” he says.

You look up at him and give him a bashful smile, “Figured I would help you out,” you said.

Bucky walks up to you and wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his embrace. He looks into your eyes, and all you see is love and admiration in them. He leans in and connects his soft lips with yours. After a moment he deepens the kiss and you feel his tongue on your lower lip. You open you mouth in response, allowing him full access. When the need to breath becomes too great you pull away, panting.

“You’re only going to be gone a day,” you say with a chuckle.

Bucky also laughs, “Will you be ok? Here? With... her?” he asks.

You brush your hand through his soft hair, “Yea. I’ll stay clear of her as much as I can. But I’ll be ok,” you say.

Bucky pecks your lips again. “When I come home, I was wondering if you could help me with something,” he asks.

You look at him with confusion, “Like what?” you ask.

“I think it’s time for Dot to go off on her own, but I don’t want to just kick her out and make her fend for herself. I was thinking you could help me find her a job and a place to live? I would just feel better if I know I wasn’t kicking her out with nowhere to go,” he asks.

You smile and nod, “Sure. I’ll be glad to help. I’ll start while you’re gone,” you say. 

Bucky kisses you one more time, “I’ll be back tomorrow. I love you, Doll,” he says.

“I love you too, Buck.”

--

You have to say you are surprised when you find yourself not running into Dot at all. It’s almost like she doesn’t want to be near you either, which is fine. She has spent most of the last 24 hours in the lab, while you stayed in your room looking up possible jobs and apartment for her. 

You thought it was nice of Bucky to at least help set her up and not throw her to the wolves. It was something you admired about Bucky, his big heart. You both have been texting before the mission, but since then you haven’t heard from him. You hope everything is ok. 

“FRIDAY, any update on the team?” you ask the AI.

“No agent, I’m sorry,” she responds.

You decide to take a nap in hopes that when you wake up your boyfriend will be home. You want your family home safe and sound.

--

You woke up to the sounds of the team in the hallway. You walk out and see Nat and Wanda and hug them hello. You head toward the common room hoping to see the guys, but don’t. You walk back toward the elevator and heard something from Dot’s room.

“Oh Dot, I’ve missed you so much, Doll,” you hear Bucky moan.

You gasp in horror as you continue listening to Dot moan and beg for Bucky to go harder. You can’t help the tears that begin to fall as you hear your boyfriend and his ex having sex.

“So good baby, you’re so good. Taking me so well, you feel amazing. No one is like you, I love you so much,” Bucky moaned.

You’ve heard enough and turn, running back to your shared room. You can’t be near him when he comes in pretending he didn’t just fuck his ex. Your heart is in a million pieces as his voice continues to play in your head. All you hear is her and his moans and his words. He loves her. It will always be her. Maybe you just need to learn to accept that.

--

“Buck, I think you should have told Y/N you got hurt. She is going to be worried about you,” Steve scolded.

“Look, I know my girl. She will be mad at first, but then she will nurse me back to health. I will have to convince her to ride me later, but it will be so worth it,” Bucky says with a smirk as the doctor continues to pull out shards of shrapnel from his side.

“Seriously man? TMI!” Sam complained before leaving Medbay.

Bucky laughed and then hissed as the doctor pulled another shard out. “How much longer? I don’t want Y/N to think I’m dead if she knows we are back,” Bucky asked the doctor.

“One more piece... and....” she pulls the large piece out, “There! Now I will quickly clean and bandage. no stitches cause you will heal fast, but please no sex tonight. You might bleed all over her,” the doctor said with a glare.

Bucky and Steve laugh. “Oh I talked to Y/N about helping me out with Dot and she agreed. I figured it was best to have her involved with that situation from now on,” Bucky says to Steve as the doctor cleans and bandages his side.

“Good idea, less messy that way. I hope everything went well here with the 2 of them,” Steve says.

“I’ll find out,” Bucky says as he puts his shirt on. 

Both men walk to the elevator and head to their floor. They say their goodbyes in the hall as Bucky opens the door to your shared apartment. You aren’t in there, which confuses him, but he figures maybe you went to the kitchen.

When he walks into the bathroom he senses something is wrong. None of your toiletries are there. It was different from when you cleaned, plus his was still there. He walks back out to your room and sees that everything on your nightstand is gone too. Now he starts to panic as he goes to the closet and sees that all your clothes are gone. He tries to not have a panic attack because that will slow him down. He goes to head to the door and sees a piece of paper on the floor:

Bucky,

I guess I’m the stupid one. I’m stupid to think that everything you said to me was true. I was stupid to think that I could compete with your one true love. I was stupid to think that you really loved me. Well I won’t be stupid anymore. No need to lie and say what I heard isn’t true. I hope you and Dot are very happy together in your new apartment, but I’m done. Have a nice life.

Bucky dropped the letter and fell to his knees as tears pool down his cheeks. What the hell happened that you up and left him? You are angry with him, and he doesn’t understand why. He allows himself to cry for a moment before rereading it.

Dot.

--

Chapter 4 / Chapter 6

Oh Dot you dirty bitch! Feedback is appreciated.

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PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF I FORGOT ANYONE!

[renchinworld]

NCT DREAM AS TYPES OF GROOMS ♡

before, during and after the wedding

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY, NCT DREAM! ♡

- gender neutral

- on crack, what’d u expect from this account lmao XD

- the picture qualities are Jurassic negative HD 0.4K but they still look good because dem visuals infinity/10

DISCLAIMER: Considering that not everyone has the same religion and wedding traditions, just imagine that this is for y’all own culture & religion’s weddings. Also, these men will be down to marry you a thousand times in one lifetime so.... conducting a ceremony again is no problem (that equates to more honeymoons and we love honeymoons).

♡ MARK

The “I do this for my squad, I do this for my gang” Groom

⊰⊹ BEFORE: The type to inform family and friends a year before the actual wedding (he says it's an adult thing). You and Mark will have everything ready as early as possible so y'all can just chill as the date draws near. Will also be loud about it but not in an intentional way, he’s just neomu excited.

⊰⊹ DURING: Dude will throw finger guns to the guests *ehem* Johnny & Yuta *ehem* while he’s literally right next to the priest. He will also shed a few tears and laugh at himself for crying as he sees you walking down the aisle. Will never forget to thank God for blessing him with you ♡

⊰⊹ AFTER: Mark will dance with you in different genres (except there’s no twerking and grinding because you gotta leave space for Jesus). After the big reception, there will be a smaller reception at home with just you, him and yall parents before the actual honeymoon. He will do everything you like once you two are alone tho ;)

♡ RENJUN

The “You’ll remember this as the wedding of the century” Groom

⊰⊹ BEFORE: Renjun's the type to write the most touching and heartfelt vow that will make you both cry and then add some savage twist at the end which will make everyone laugh (flashback to Haechan's birthday vlive). He will also make sure that everything--from the theme to the background music--is aesthetic af.

⊰⊹ DURING: Mans will 100% cry as he pictures you and him spending your entire lives together once he sees you walk down that aisle. Also, he is genuinely crying happy tears but will wipe them dramatically while he’s being filmed by your wedding videographer for ✧ remembrance and effect ✧

⊰⊹ AFTER: “Renjun, why is the temptation of wife OST playing in the background?”

He will sing close to your ear and give you a peck on the lips once in a while while everyone's busy partying. You two will greet the guests for a short while and then escape in a private plane to an island getaway for your honeymoon… it will take off in front of everyone because... ✧ art ✧ Also, get ready for the most romantic love making in Maldives ;)

♡ JENO

The “You thought it’d be no jam but it was actually the best wedding” Groom

⊰⊹ BEFORE: Lets you take charge of planning, but when he suggests his ideas it’s so top notch that you’ll be all “why aren’t you saying more?” and it’s because he believes that the wedding is not as important as the person he is marrying (opposite to Jaemin: Jeno thinks you’ll be happier if he just lets you do whatever you want--as an act of letting you have freedom in your creativity). He’ll be super helpful if you need it tho so no worries.

⊰⊹ DURING: Will accidentally open your veil before the person in charge says “you may now kiss the bride/groom.” He doesn’t care about the cameras, all he sees is you, you and you. Jeno won't cry in the actual event but he will be teary eyed af for sure (he's saving the tears for when you guys are alone).

⊰⊹ AFTER: He will take all his chances to carry you and hold you in his arms all night long. Jeno’s signature eye smile will be plastered on his face all night. That innocent face also prepared a bed of roses and other surprises in your room ready for the honeymoon ;)

♡ HAECHAN

The “We’re not going home until someone blacks out” Groom

⊰⊹ BEFORE: Haechan will pull a prank on you before the wedding so that you’ll coming running to him and he’ll see you (he can’t take the “you can’t see each other the night before the wedding” tradition because he misses you already). He will even make the vow writing a group activity lmao: “Whatchu writing?” “Haechan, stop looking! This is supposed to be a surprise.”

⊰⊹ DURING: He will tell everyone “I’m not gonna cry, that’s sus” but will definitely cry while laughing and get laughed at by family and friends lightheartedly. Haechan will say the funniest vows out of everyone but will also make you emotional because he can switch from being humorous to serious in 0.00001 second.

⊰⊹ AFTER: Reception is real party vibes; it’s not over until it’s game over. He might get bored eventually so you too will sneak out laughing in your wedding attires and just chill around the hotel’s swimming pools. He might also push you into a pool so he can save you and bathe you afterwards ;)

♡ JAEMIN

The “I’ve been dreaming of this my whole life” Groom

⊰⊹ BEFORE: He’ll make the wedding planner question their entire existence (opposite to Jeno: Jaemin thinks you’ll be happier if he plans the wedding for you--as an act of service). He’ll be super open to your suggestions though and will immediately change up anything you don’t agree with so no worries.

⊰⊹ DURING: Jaemin will also give one of the funniest vows but it's because he's unintentionally funny in his speech delivery. He will say the sweetest and uplifting words, refraining from being too emotional because he doesn't want to see you cry... but you still do. Dude might do mild aegyo in front of everyone just to see you smile again (you know the finger on pouty lips one that he does with Renjun? Yep, that one).

⊰⊹ AFTER: He will drag you somewhere when everyone’s busy partying just so he can give you a kissth. He’s down to party with your family and friends but only if you’re always by his side. And he definitely won't care if the party's over or not--once he sees that you’re tired or want to be alone with him, he'll announce to everyone that you guys are gonna bounce… and bounce you shall ;)

♡ CHENLE

The “We can afford a Kardashian wedding but I’d rather keep it simple” Groom

⊰⊹ BEFORE: Boi WILL 100% invite his bestie Stephen Curry. There will be three weddings: one for the grand wedding (at an arena for all of Shanghai to see--he doesn’t like this one but gotta keep those investors in check, you know?). Another for a small circle wedding (just family and friends). The last will be the “just the two of us casually exchanging chips and diamond rings while playing pubg” wedding

⊰⊹ DURING: Daddy Chenle will never forget to mention his son Mark in his vows and speeches. His whole clan will shower you with gifts and affection so much that he doesn’t know if he should be happy or annoyed because they’re not giving you two enough time to spend YOUR wedding together. He’s staying put though because hakuna matata #the scorpio side jumped out

⊰⊹ AFTER: No one else is allowed to touch you except for him. He will carry you bridal style away from the building and to his car so he can have you all to himself. He’ll definitely cry happy tears when it's just the two of you.

♡ JISUNG

The “We really should’ve married in secret instead” Groom

⊰⊹ BEFORE: Will let you take control of the event but will pitch in his creative ideas here and there. Jisung insists that you have a small wedding but the number of NCT members is far from small lol. There's also a high chance of a beach wedding because he loves the open area (gives him more space to breathe plus he’ll see Haechan and Renjun trying to drown each other in the distance and that’s free entertainment).

⊰⊹ DURING: Dude will 100% get clowned by the NCT members while saying his vows (honorable mention: dreamies). He might rap some of his words out of nervousness (which everyone finds cute because it is). He will be all shy and awkward at first and then surprise everyone by his sudden bold moves (e.g. dip you as he kisses you, say the sweetest things). He will also cry happy tears as he sees you walk down that aisle.

⊰⊹ AFTER: He's truly grateful for all the support and love of everyone who attended but as an introvert and an Aquarius Plus Pro Max, he’ll be wishing on the inside that everyone just goes home already so you two can have fun alone. Mans will still get clowned by the members even during the reception but he doesn’t mind because he’s clowning them back now. His hand will be glued to your waist all night and he will sneak in a few kisses here and there.

♡ OT7:

- Everyone will get clowned by the other members regardless of the event so a wedding isn’t an exception. So either you protect your husband or join in on the light teasing... or both. 

- You may also get clowned. It’s NCT we’re talking about.

- This is a work of fiction. Except the clownery & RenHyuck drowning each other in Jisung’s wedding. That’s true to life.

Happy Anniversary to our Dreamies >u< we love you guys sm!

[peeterparkr]

red; tom's version|one.

chapter one: sad, beautiful tragic. “Long handwritten note deep in your pocket”

pairing: Tom Holland x Reader (tom's not famous here) story summary: you’re reminiscing through your relationship months after the heartbreak and breakup. Wondering if it went wrong from the very start when Tom arrived at New York, and him being a cautionary tale or if the problems came along the way. Perhaps the key to find back your way to him is going back through the nice things before the heartbreak came. Or is it too painful to go all over again?

chapter summary: you haven't seen him since he ditched you, after months of wearing plaid you go out and realize he's back in new york warnings: angsty, I mean it's a breakup, swearing. word count: 7.3k playlist (updated after each chapter, including Red songs+ other for the chapter): Spotify | Apple Music

fic masterlist next chapter

a/n: Hi, I couldn't wait to share it so I said, screw it, I'm posting this. You don't know how excited I am to write this and share it with you. As you know, this is inspired by Red by Taylor Swift and will hurt. So I expect us all to be crumpled up pieces of paper wearing scarves by the end of this. (perennial is still coming, I'm just waiting on a few people who're reading it). SPECIAL THANKS TO @erodasghosts for reading it and hyping me up and helping me figure this all out. I hope you guys all like it as much as I did. The story is set in New York. Please give feedback!

One month after the breakup.

Strong whiskey, on the rocks. That was his drink of choice that night. The night before had been a beer. You knew you could imagine the taste of his lips by only looking at him. You wondered if he’d gone there for a second night for the same reason you had.

When you had seen him across the place the night before, you had tried to decide how to feel. We always think we will react one way or another when we see our official heartbreak walking through. Victorious as he is perfectly dressed, with his hair flowing.

He hadn’t brought her. Which you didn’t know how to feel about.

The day before you had not been alone, Jules, Matty, and Lula were there.

“Shit, the axolotl at 10 o'clock, you’ve got to be shitting me,” Lourdes, Lula, had whispered before sipping her drink, a Long Island Tea. “We are celebrating she’s doing better, can’t fucking believe this,” she hissed at Jules who only lifted her chin slightly to see who she was referring to. “What the fuck is he doing here? Ay, es que, con qué huevos se atreve a venir aquí? Que no mame.” [with what balls did he dare to come here? He shouldn’t fuck with us. ]

You loved hanging out with Lula and listening to her very refined Spanish cursing.

“It’s not him,” Julia said.

You tried looking back to see who they were referring to. “Who is—?”

“Y/N, wait I just noticed the haircut!” Matt pointed out, reaching over, getting your attention back to them and not at whatever they were referring to. “It looks great. It’s like a new you!”

This new you. The one that had been screwed over twice. Men really have the nerve when it comes to breaking hearts. They recklessly go in and let you believe love comes in all shades of colors, passionate red like the roses they send, and tender pinks like your sweet innocence that they end up stealing. But they never tell you it’ll be you all alone in a dark room with shades of grey under a flickering light that barely warms you.

The new you, which was still a bit lost. Your old self was a stranger to you now. You had no idea who this new you was, she was quiet now. Didn’t have a heart because someone had stolen it and broken it and left it behind a dumpster. Still trying to find it. The new you wasn't.. you.

Your friends were glad, however, they finally got you to go out again. After weeks of wearing plaid and watching Fleabag, and even considering watching Greys Anatomy, a low point, you had finally decided to come back to see if there was any sunshine left for you.

It’s important to point out that you had been broken-hearted and almost crazy when the breakup had happened. Very… delusional. You were not proud of the way you’d reacted. Although you wouldn’t have reacted any other way.

The city had been quiet, the red lights seemed to last longer, and the crowds would often swallow you. The city you once loved was now an open book of a relationship that seemed real, should’ve known it was all fiction.

In your dreams they’d be bright, colorful. The village is aglow. Cold days with warm hearts. Like his.

You’d been cold ever since.

“Ah, yeah, the haircut. Got it today. Lula’s idea” The haircut had come as the solution to a problem that would never be solved. As if cutting your hair meant there was something you had the power on. You didn’t.

How stupid was it? You couldn’t control your life.

“It suits her well, doesn’t it?” Lula admitted proudly.

You still had his picture engraved in your heart. You still dreamed he would come back and say it was all a nightmare.

“It’s nice, I’m glad to have you back,” Jules commented. Julia had probably been the most surprised with the news of the breakup, she had almost gone and killed Tom when he had….unimportant. She hadn’t, though, and she had yet to tell you the reason why. Julia had been mysterious since.

“I’m glad to be back,” you confirmed. You’d ordered a beer, and maybe you shouldn’t have. Stella Artois, his one favorite. You pocketed the beer cap. “Though I was not gone.”

Matt watched you, him and Julia had recently started dating. Best friends since kids who just recently confessed their feelings for each other, took them long enough. “How back are you, though?”

“Meaning?” You asked, taking a sip.

Matt shrugged, “I could introduce you to some friends from work, there’s this hot guy—“

“No,” you interrupted him, leaving the bottle down as you had almost choked. “No, no. Not in the dating area yet. Won’t be in a long time. Still healing.”

Lula still had her eyes glued elsewhere. “Healing from a bullet hole, y/n, whatever you’re doing isn’t working, and band aids won’t fix it—Jules it is, I swear to god it’s him.”

“It’s not him,” Julia rolled her eyes.

“Ay, que sí!” [he is]

“Who?” You asked.

Julia took your hands, “you know Lula,” she rolled her eyes. “I love that you ordered a beer.”

“Yeah,” you gulped. “Beer is universal language for men as in: ‘don’t get close to me.’” A lesson someone dear had taught you once.

Matt tilted his head in agreement, “Yeah.”

“Really?” Lula frowned, “should’ve ordered one. Next time I’ll ask for my drink but instead of a glass I’ll ask them to put it in a beer bottle.”

“Wouldn't it be easier to order a beer?” Matt suggested.

“But then I’d break our tradition.”

Matt watched her, “you really are something.”

You chuckled.

“Why is beer seen as not—feminine?” Matt questioned.

Julia shrugged. “It’s beyond me, really. It’s a drink.”

“Like does my drink make me less of a man?” Matt watched his glass, another Long Island Tea. A stupid inside joke you all had.

“No,” you admitted. “But you know how society is. Since it’s sweet, it’s got to be—“

“Oh, no, no, I love you, y/n, but tonight I don’t want you lecturing us on it, no, tonight we are having fun, ok?” Lula reminded you. “We will not talk about femininity or lack of a beer—or whatever your agenda is up to these days, which, hey! Why does y/n get to break the rule?” Lula questioned. “No Long Island Tea?

Julia glared at her, “Because she can do whatever she wants tonight,” she hissed and then turned to you. “But how are you feeling? It’s your first time going out in months, is it as fun?” Julia was the one to try to cheer you up the most.

No, it wasn’t fun.

“I—feel good!” You lied. Although you were not. But you guessed that’s the response they wanted after seeing you laying down on the ground and crying yourself to sleep. Staring at windows and walking down in the rain. They wanted you to feel better.

Your body was covered in scars.Though, they were from adventures.

“Bullshit,” Lula intruded. “You seem sad. Maybe I’ll get some shots,” she announced before going to get some.

“Well,” you chuckled. “My first time going out and you bring me back to the place where it all started?” You answered cynically but then shrugged. “I’m—I…no. I just—It’s weird. I still see him everywhere, and as I’m here it’s like watching a movie of our greatest moments,” you admitted. “Like hey, look over there, it’s Tom and Y/N’s greatest moments,” you stated, Lula got back. “Let’s start memory lane…”and you sighed and continued with the best presenter voice you had. “Here you’ll wonder how the hell did it go so wrong since they were so perfect, what the hell went wrong, when did it turn into some sad stupid love affair. You’ll be asking yourself hey, they seemed in love, over there, they danced! Over there… they sang a song together! See over there? There was a fucking jukebox in which they have memories! Oh they have memories there too! And you’ll ask yourself, he made it seem real, what the hell happened?” You sighed exhaustedly. “What happened? What the fuck happened? How was I so stupid?” You ran your hands through your face.

Your friends only watched you, with pity, sadness. Even Lula had turned her gaze guilty.

You cleared your throat, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“No,” Lula sighed, “it’s our fault for bringing you here. We’re fucking idiots. Besides he is—Julia I swear to god, he is there.” Lula raised her hand and Julia quickly pulled it down.

Julia bit her lip, “I—hadn’t realized how much Tom there is here.”

“Yeah.”

“He called me—“Matt had started.

“No, no, we can’t talk about him, baby,” Julia reminded him. Matt widened his eyes and nodded.

You blinked, “no, it’s—He called you? Tom?” Why had Tom called Matty? What for?

“Yeah, had a missed call,” Matt explained, ignoring his girlfriend. “I—it was this morning.”

You felt your chest twist. “Yeah, I get a lot of those too.”

Perhaps he wanted to talk to you and thought Matty was dumb enough to give you the phone.

Julia glared at Matt. “We promised not to—“

“No, hey,” you stopped her. “I—sorry, I brought him up.”

“But we shouldn’t talk about him,” Julia insisted. “Tonight is all about having fun,” she stated as she handed everyone their shots.

“No, it’s alright,” you said. “I’m fine talking about it.”

Lula turned her gaze to you. “Shouldn’t you hate him?”

Were you supposed to hate someone who gave you something so beautiful? Just because it’s over doesn’t mean you have to look back and hate it.

“No,” you answered simply.

Matt watched you. “Wait, really?”

You took a deep breath. “Yeah, I’m—I decided I’m thankful for everything. He really… I… I mean I knew from the start he was trouble. But he got me to get rid of Will. So I’m thankful for Tom. He showed me some beautiful things about him, about myself and… I’m thankful. Even the part when he broke my heart.”

It was a lie. Partly. You had been so full of doubts that you only tried wondering why it had gone so wrong. Or course, the lie was there. His lies. But how could any of it be a lie?

Julia smiled gently, “You’re really a grown up.”

“Or very stupid.” Lula commented.

“Thanks, Lula, I appreciate it,” you rolled your eyes. “I… well, I’ve gotta admit I was pretty stupid.”

Lula shrugged, “Hey, I don’t blame you, boy came in with an accent, he had a cute smile, he was hot, I must admit, and he wasn’t one of those Brooklyn fuckboys that take you to the rooftop and offer you a whiteclaw to watch the sunrise together,” Lula gave in.

“Oh, and they take candid pictures, and they say that their phone camera isn’t as good as their polaroid,” Julia laughed, “But hey, you’re lucky they took you to the rooftop, they never take anyone there, they took you there just because you’re…”

“Different,” Julia, Lula and you chanted.

Matt laughed, “You guys are the worst.”

“Anyway,” Lula said. “We should drink these,” she pointed at the shot glasses as she raised her own. “I came here to get drunk. So, to Y/N being thankful Tom was a piece of shit even when the boy had a dreamy accent?”

You closed your eyes, and let out a defeated dry chuckle. “Yes, to that.”

“To the piece of shit, then!” Lula grinned as the shots clinked and were downed. You instantly regretted drinking it.

Lula scowled as she had her eyes glued back at the bar, “It’s him, Julia, it’s him! What is he doing here? Pendejo, I swear to god I’ll go kill him.” She was furious, and you tried once again following her gaze.

The bar was crowded, red lights crossed around the place, with girls walking with tall heels, trying to smile and nod at guys who were talking to them but clearly were not of interest to them. Friends laughing, people flirting. You didn’t know who your friends were watching.

But the bar seemed to be enough of a reminder of him. How he had made you feel like crowds were never there, and how whenever you had been with him everything disappeared just to be with him.

“Who are we killing?” You questioned.

“Is new y/n a murderer?” Asked Matt. Matt and Julia were your oldest friends. The three of you grew up in Staten Island, and now moved to the crowded places.

Lula coughed. “Hope she is.” Lula, on the other hand, you’ve met in college, she was a very defined addition to the friend group. With more personality. A strong one. Lula, Julia and you shared a small apartment.

Julia cleared her throat.

“The fucking scarf,” Lula scowled.

“What scarf?” Matt asked. And you had the same question.

Julia whispered to her boyfriend’s ear who had turned cold. He lifted his head.

“But it’s not.”

“It is him,” Matt confirmed to Lula. “Jules, it is.”

And now your three friends were acting strange. Usually they did but this was strang-er. They all shared looks, Julia struggled with her hands.

They were watching you with pity but you’d gotten used to that. After the breakup they had been extra careful around you, kinder, you guessed.

Fools they were to believe that by not mentioning him you wouldn’t think of him. He was a memory that would haunt you for the rest of the days.

“So, y/n,” Julia was clearly hiding whatever Lula was seeing.

“Wasn’t he in London? What in this fucking world is he doing here?” Lula continued.

“Shut up!” Julia ordered.

“London?” You asked and you lifted your head, and any noise that was bustling before had stopped.

Tom.

Tom was there.

Thomas.

Tom who had broken your heart. In every possible way that he could’ve. Like he had planned it. Like he was aware.

He was there, on a stool with a beer in his hand and wearing a red scarf. The red scarf. As if he was mocking you.

Tom.

Did he pride on hurting you?

He had always said you were invincible. That you were unrivaled in matters of the heart. Was he proud he had beaten the unbeaten?

You’d always thought he would.

When we love deeply, getting hurt comes as a given. But when we love deeply, we are never expecting it to come. And when it does come the skies cannot turn grayer. Funny thing, you were a fan of the rain but when the rain doesn’t cease, the hope doesn’t perdure.

But he was back in your life. Or at least he had been in the same room as you after months.

What was he doing back in New York with your scarf?

You turned back to your own table, breathing in quickly, bringing your hand to your chest in an attempt to calm yourself down.

You saw your friends speaking but you couldn’t make a word of what they’re saying. Your heart was rushing. Thomas was there. Tom. Your Tom. And there was a part of you that had completely forgotten over the heartbreak and wanted to run to him.

Kiss him, try to fix it. Try to bring back the beautiful thing you both had. Because it was. And it hurt looking back.

You were having trouble breathing now, the heartbreak had come.

That’s the worst thing about heartbreak. You never saw it coming, though you should’ve. Though it was beautiful you’d known from the start you’d end up hurt. But when a lie is crafted so beautifully, how could you?

“It’s him.” The words had come in whispers.

You barely remembered what had happened next. You had only stood up, decisive to leave, you’d seen him try to walk his way to you. You’d heard him call your name, but you hadn’t turned back, you had seen Matty stop him from running to you.

It was blurry. You didn’t know how you got home. Desperately trying to understand why he was there and how the night had turned too badly.

Lula and Matt had come back later to find Julia trying to comfort you, hugging a pillow that you were sure he had slept on. Breathless.

But it was in the past now, you were there again. Same bar, both in stools far away.

You were almost sure he’d gone to that bar in hopes of finding you again.

Just like you’d gone again.

His eyes the night before were guilty. You only took a deep breath, you remembered trying to avoid his glance at any chance as you had walked out.

Why were you there again?

That feeling in your chest growing, like there was something heavy expanding. Yet your stomach falling smaller. The pain was but a shield, as if it was creating a special protection around your heart, and though it hurt it was enough for it to make your heart strong to leave the place.

You didn’t want to see Tom. You hadn’t talked to him since. Even when he’d tried to call. Even when you’d tried calling.

Not when you had replayed the breakup over and over and over again since he was gone.

Everyone deals with breakups in different ways. Yours, specifically, was avoiding it. Everything and everyone. Especially Tom.

It was hard when he was everywhere. In that tattoo he’d convinced you to get, in that ring he’d left, in that cereal box that you still hadn’t finished. Whenever you listened to a song he’d recommended. Whenever you’d open Netflix and that series you had started watching together was still recommended to you even when you’d deleted it.

Everywhere.

You couldn’t use your favorite colors because you could hear it, in the back of your head “I love how it looks on you.” “You should wear more blue, it suits you.”

Even your stupid laugh remind you of him. “Your laugh is the most wonderful thing I’ve heard, even if it’s so ugly.”

You missed the person you were when he was with you. How everything was happy. Who was that y/n? Who didn’t mind if she was slightly late to a place because he’d come with you? Who didn’t feel alone at parties when she knew nobody because you knew him?

A y/n that existed only for a short period of time when he’d been around and that he’d shattered like glass when he had the chance.

You missed that y/n.

The y/n that would sometimes lose her breath and catch it back when he walked into the room. A y/n that sang along to her favorite songs all day. The one that would give her heart in a rush to him. The one that watched movies no matter if they were good or not.

Life had colors back then.

Now you were full of regrets and of doubts. Wondering what you had done wrong? Where did it lead you?

You looked up at him then. He was staring down at his glass.

There was a slight trace of him still there, the Tom you once loved. The one with the silly smile and the gentle chuckle, the one with the jokes about everything.

You wondered how much of that y/n he saw too.

You were the same two people, in essence. But how different you were now.

The Tom you knew before finding out it was a lie.

There was still a hint. You knew. But there was so much of him in you that it was hard to see if you still were there. Or the Tom you thought you knew. Not the one with the lie. Or maybe this was the truest Tom he could ever be.

He had to move on, rather quickly, you recalled. If he ever did.

There was a stupid reminder of you in his hand, that red scarf from the very first day.

You still remembered how it all started, a stupid red scarf. He kept it, then, and he wore it.

You had ordered a beer, too. You pocketed the cap again.

But there was an image in your mind, maybe he had gone back and probably had his arm around her and he laughed at a joke she made. Maybe she was funnier than you. Definitely prettier, with her hair falling down all the way to her waist, her clothing accentuating everything you didn’t have.

You recalled having to leave the room when you found out. You had been a mess.

Leaning against a wall as you caught your breath before the tears came down, as if he had pierced right through it. A pain chest that had expanded all the way on your body, not sure how you were able to keep walking back to your place. Falling down to your knees when you did.

Pain. Words failed to describe such a deep sentiment.

But it was gone now. Not entirely but at least you could hold your breath fine when he was just across the room.

What went wrong?

You could ask him. He was right there.

Maybe even tell him how you had lost sight. He hadn’t walked up to you. He was nervous, but he seemed calm enough to see you were there. You were still unsure why you had gone there.

Maybe all the good things were enough to bring you there, maybe the fact that you still didn’t believe it was a lie brought you there. Maybe the fact that one of those pictures from that photobooth was still in a locket. So stupid.

He fiddled with the glass.

You waited and waited but he didn’t approach you. He took out a paper out of his pocket as he stared at it.

You wouldn’t approach him. No matter how happy he had made you once, you wouldn’t walk to him. No matter how beautiful it was. No matter if you were lonely and that when you dared to sleep he’d be haunting your dreams.

It was a tragedy now. What you both were, and not even worth enough to try and save it. You knew you were haunting him too. Otherwise he wouldn’t be here.

He was shakin, as he stared at you, nervous. He downed his drink, you guessed it was for some liquid courage and stood up, with the note in one hand and your red scarf in the other.

Your own courage for coming here was gone, as you saw his intentions, the urge to run you had the night before was becoming you. But he couldn’t walk. He had to sit down again, rubbing his face.

The courage that had come when choosing what Lula called the ‘revenge black dress’ was nowhere in sight. You were cold and regretting putting it on.

“I can’t do this,” you said to yourself and quickly let out some dollars to pay for your drink before picking up your stuff to leave.

You saw he panicked when he saw you leaving, he quickly called the bartender to pay for his drink.

You closed your coat as you were shaking yourself, punishing yourself for going there. Why had you gone there? The man had broken your heart? Were you really there to see him?

Was your heart foolish enough to ignore the warnings in your mind once again?

You walked your way to get to the subway station, how irrelevant you were through the crowds. You hadn’t felt this way for a while, caring for the crowds. But you had to get through them. There was a part of you that wished Tom was following you after. But the crowds didn’t let you see if he was.

Besides, you shouldn’t want that.

You finally managed to get to the station, you clung to your purse as you stared at the tracks, waiting for the next train to come. Peaceful it seemed, the station. As peaceful as New York could be. You guessed if you cried nobody would care.

“y/n!” You heard your name in the distance and you couldn’t handle it.

You took a deep breath and shook your head, angrily. Why had you gone? You could’ve easily kept ignoring his calls. You could’ve stayed in your apartment, crying as you watched SNL videos on youtube, or rewatching a cartoon for the hundredth time, letting your own sadness and self pity swallow you.

But you had gone to him. This was your fault. You should’ve taken a cab, instead, he would know you’d get at this station and he for sure would know what train you’d take.

“y/n, y/n!” He kept calling as he finally arrived next to you. “Sorry I would’ve gotten here faster but the damn MetroCard-”

“I’m not doing this, Tom,” you stated before he could go on rambling like the idiot he was. You couldn’t do it. “Not here, not anywhere. I don’t know what you’re doing here.”

“I…” His face was kind, and he seemed to be nervous. You could tell he hadn’t been sleeping, probably the jet lag.

You took a moment to look at him, he didn’t look as victorious as you had thought he was. His hair was messy, and his cheeks flushed, the buttons on his shirt were not buttoned right.

Seeing him again, with that signature look he had made you want to go down to your knees.

“Aren’t you supposed to be back in London?” You snapped. “With that pretty girl-”

“No, no, I’m-I’m sorry, I’m really sorry,” Tom stuttered. “I was an idiot.”

You stared into his eyes, you were not ready for this. You were not ready to look into his stupid eyes. You looked away. “That’s all you have to say?” You tried walking away from him..

He shook his head. “No, no, no, no, I… No, I actually… I had this… I wrote down my apology,” Tom confessed. He showed you a sad, handwritten paper, now slightly teared up with the ink running. “I… I had….”

You looked down at it, his messy handwriting, crinkled with words scratched down. “You wrote it down?”

You didn’t know why you felt your heart warm. This kind of stuff was why you couldn’t understand what had happened. Someone like him, who writes his apologies down. Someone who stutters when he’s speaking.

“Yeah, I… but I spilled my drink on it after seeing you fled,” He explained, swallowing hard. “I… I… I had written it down so I wouldn’t forget it but now I realize how stupid that is… I’m… I’m really sorry, y/n.” .

You could hear the train coming. You were seeing him again. It hit you right there. And this was not the reaction you thought. You had said you would be delusional, crying and fighting and questioning him why the fuck he had done that.

Yet you weren’t. You were only watching him, eyes full of tears wanting to slide down but unable to. But there was that pain still in your chest.

How could he ever dare to hurt you that way? “I don’t want to talk to you,” you said. And meant it. “Please leave me alone.” You said before walking into the train.

“Y/N, please, no, please, please, listen to me,” He followed you in, the scarf still in his hand.

You tried sitting as far away as you could. Arms and legs crossed as you tried breathing in.

He sat beside you and you changed seats. He sighed but followed you again. “Please, I need to talk to you. I never meant to hurt you.”

“Well you did,” you snapped. “You did, and now you come here a month later with a handwritten note apology thinking I will be fine with it?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I had to solve-Please, would you listen?” Tom asked, knowing damn well he had to ask, and not just straight up blurt it out.

“Why would I, Tom?” You turned to him, with a tear traveling down your cheek. You were incredulous. “You’re kidding me, right? I… You… You think that just because you show up with that stupid face of yours and my scarf I’ll want to listen to you? You’re an idiot.”

He sighed and reached to give you the scarf. You ignored it.You were furious now.

The other people on the train were certainly getting a show. A guy with a backpack was trying to pretend he wasn’t listening but his reactions were giving it away. Another woman pretended to keep reading her book but she hadn’t turned any pages.

Tom took the scarf back staring at it. “I need to explain everything to you.”

“What if I don’t want an explanation?” You snapped. Though you did. You had been waiting for one, you wanted one. You would beg for it. But your pride was taking the wheel of the conversation. “Don’t you think it’s fucking late for it?”

“Is it?” Tom turned back to you.

“Yes!” You couldn’t believe him. But this seemed a bit too familiar of a conversation. “And beside no explanation would make me forgive you!” You stated, whispering, not wanting any of the attention you were receiving.

“I’m not… I… If you just listen to me,” Tom said.

You glared, “I don’t want anything to do with you.”

“Then why did you come to the bar?” He asked.

He fucking asked.

Your eyes widened. He had gone there. He knew. He fucking knew you’d gone back because you wanted an explanation. Or so he thought. No, you’d gone back because… Yes, because you wanted an explanation. Because everything he’d done had been beautiful. Until the heartbreak. He had crafted and vexed his way into your cold stupid heart and then he had gone and pierced right through it, crushed it.

You wanted to ask why. Why did he do it so vehemently?

You didn’t answer, instead you moved one seat away. He kept his eyes on you.

“You wouldn’t have gone if you didn’t want an explanation,” he said. “Or to see me, at least. I know I did, I needed to see you.”

You saw the guy with the backpack purse his lips, knowing that Tom had got you. There was little context for them. The girl with the book directed a glance to you, trying to read your emotions.

If they knew, they’d be on your side and yelling at him as well.

He rested his elbows on his knees and rubbed his face.

“I didn’t, it was a coincidence,” you answered coldly.

“No, it bloody wasn’t,” Tom scoffed and then sat up. “No, I’m… No, but you know, you went to the bar for a reason.”

“And I left for a million more,” you frowned.

Tom pursed his lips and took out the paper again, trying to make out whatever he’d written before. “I’m really sorry.” His eyes traced through the note.

“Are you genuinely trying to read it? Don’t you know what you’re supposed to apologize for?”

Tom looked up, “So you do want me to apologize?”

The guy with the backpack squeezed his eyes shut, knowing Tom had fucked up.

“You’re kidding, right? Yes, you have to apologize, what you did is really, really shitty!” You pointed out.

“But you won’t forgive me, then?” Tom watched you.

“I don’t know,” you said and he looked up, a beaming gaze. “No, I won’t.”

He wrinkled his eyes, “I… I know I’m supposed to apologize, not to expect you to forgive. I'm just…”

He gulped, and then sat back, staring at the dirty walls and lights. He had dressed up. Badly, but he had tried looking good, you could tell. You could smell his lotion, too.

He was fiddling with the paper, crumpling up and then it fell to the floor. You looked at it and somehow related to it, not sure how.

You took a deep breath so you wouldn’t kill him and turned to him. “I have questions for you, if you answer them I might consider listening to you.”

Tom’s eyes brightened up. “Yes, yes, anything.”

You eyed him up and down as he watched you with begging eyes. You avoided his gaze. Tom followed your gaze as you tried to figure out what was the first thing you could ask him. Why had he hurt you?

Why did he not stop and think before making you fall in love with him?

Why did he not stop and tell you the truth?

“Where are you staying?” You asked,

Tom blinked. “Is that… is that the question?”

“No, but I know you don’t know how to fucking get anywhere,” you said.

Tom gulped, “I… uh, again with Harrison,” he explained.

You sighed. You remembered Harrison alright. And though there was a petty part inside you, you would help him out. Knowing he’d always get lost in the city. Though you could let him get lost, so you’d have to go after him and spend a bit more time. With an excuse, because you didn’t seem to have any excuse to be with him.

It hurt. What hurt the most was trying not to look back at the incredible moments you had because none of them were true.

You sighed. “Okay, when we get down you’ll take the F train—“

Tom stopped you, taking your hand. “No, wait, I don’t care if I get lost, okay, I… I just.”

You snatched your hand away from his cold hands he had. You darkened your gaze at him.

“Please, Y/n, I just need a chance. If you don’t want to listen… maybe I’ll just…” He handed you the note.

You crossed your arms, and tapped your foot, trying to decide whether or not to give it to him. “Fine,” you took the note.

You've gotten to your stop. So you stood up.

The girl with the book and the guy with the backpack watched you both as you walked out, pitying they couldn’t follow the drama.

Tom followed after you, he licked his lips. “You… you had questions, right?”

“Yeah.” You nodded, taking yet another heavy breath. You turned on your feet to look at him “One, did you lie to me?”

Tom was taken back by this, his eyes, consternated, only watched you. He gulped. “What?”

“Did you lie to me?

“I… well.”

You were getting desperate. “Did you ?”

“I didn’t lie about how I felt,” he said. You knew he wasn’t lying about it. He couldn’t. He couldn’t have ever lied about how he felt because you knew he had felt it too, a bit, at least,

You rolled your eyes, “Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever.”

“I mean it, I…” Tom gulped. “I really liked you.”

“Yeah, I know, you liked me yadda, yadda,” you started. Liked not loved. “Cut the bullshit for once, did you or did you not lie to me?”

Tom took a deep breath. “Yes. But I had feelings for you.”

You bit your inner cheeks. “Uh-huh, yes, okay, good, yes, you acknowledge it. So, we have two statements here, Tom. You say you had feelings yet you lied to me,” you squinted. “Sounds-”

Tom gulped and avoided your gaze. “I know yes,” he looked down. “But, if you give me-”

“Ah, buh-buh, nope, I’m just gathering my thoughts here,” you coughed. “I need you to look me in the eyes and tell me what you felt.”

Tom shook his head in confusion. “I—I’m”

“Go on,” you motioned your hand.

“Y/N,” he said. And the way he dared to say your name was like having a knife right through you. “I had—I have feelings for you,” he said looking right into your eyes.

He didn’t say what feelings.

You were not sure where you wanted to go with this. “Fine, my next question…” you really didn’t know where this was going. “So, alright, you…” You couldn’t even phrase it. “You… made me fall in love with you knowing….Well, we both know what you did. What you hid from me. You’re a liar who made me—“

Tom took a deep breath. “Yes, but I didn’t… plan that.”

Your eyes widened. “Oh, so it’s my fault?” You stepped back. “Sorry for developing feelings for you. Sorry for ruining your life—“

Tom closed his eyes, “No, no, look, I… wasn’t. I didn’t come here expecting to meet you, I didn’t want… It just happened, okay, I never thought—You're making it sound like it’s some big master plan. I—I never planned—I never would’ve ever planned on hurting you.”

You watched him, incredulous. “Thomas you do realize what you did to me?”

“I do.”

“No, you don’t! You’re trying to make me seem like I’m crazy for not even wanting to talk to you!” You called him out.

“I’m not, I’m just saying that if you’re here—you must miss it too, you know it was too real, and you want it back, possibly—M-maybe not, but if you came to the bar tonight it was in hopes of finding me again because you knew I’d be there, and you want to feel how you felt before, and i just… you know I miss it and that you knew I didn’t lie—“

You glared at him. “You did lie!”

“Okay—yes, yes I did—But not entirely, I just happened to omit one truth—“

“One very important truth,” you snarked.

“Fine but—please listen,” he tried to convince you. “and I’m sorry, okay? I—I didn’t want to hurt you. But I never planned this. It just happened. I didn’t come here expecting to fall in love with anyone, I didn’t come here trying to date, and I never expected it to be someone as complex—“

“Complex?”

“Yes, I never came to New York trying to find the most mental relationship I’ve ever had—“

“Mental?” You snapped.

“Yes! I love you but you’re fucking crazy! And I am too! I’m fucking crazy and mental but I—I—I loved being crazy and mental with you! We are fucking mental! Driving to nowhere? Breaking into places? Getting a jukebox on the subway? That’s mental! But—but I love that about you, alright? Don’t you get it? I could’ve stayed in London, I could've been the asshole who just ditched you and lied to you—“

You scoffed. “Well that’s comforting!”

“But I’m—I’m here, ain’t I? And I know I fucked up, I know, I accept that, I’m the asshole here, and I know you’ll never—I hid it from you because I didn’t know what was going on, I didn’t even get it myself. I’m here to give you my version of it. I didn’t realize I was falling in love with you…I am…,I am in love with you, and I never planned that, I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with someone else, it just happened. I may have thought it was just—Some fling, initially.”

You laughed cynically. “A fling.”

He gulped. “And the moment I realized what was really going on—”

“You left, that’s what you fucking did, when you realized it was way too real for you, you destroyed the one real thing you’ve ever known,” you barked, he stepped back. “I fell in love with you, I—I—and then you ditched me, and I thought that was the worst thing you could ever do to me but then I realized that it wasn’t real! I—you were never mine, Tom! I simply was—a break you needed or—a fling.”

“It wasn’t that—“

You watched him. Looking so innocent, kind eyes and tender lips. You would’ve believed him had he come before.

“You used me!” You snapped, the words that had wanted to come for a while just blurted out. “I just can’t believe you,” you said. “You don’t feel sorry.” You shook your head, your voice was cracking. “You're not sorry because you don’t understand. You don’t know what I went through, and if you had come earlier, if you hadn’t left me, I probably would have believed you. But—No! No!” You stepped back. “No!”

“I did call! You never picked up the phone! I tried—“Tom started.

“Was I really expected to pick it up? Let’s get back to it. Shall we? The facts. Did you or did you not date me? And made me fall in love with you?”

Tom sighed. “I—yes.”

“Did you lie?”

“…yes.”

You nodded. “Was I the other one?”

Tom squinted his eyes. “No… yes, no.”

You took a deep breath. “Did you leave me without an explanation?”

Tom looked down. “I did.”

“Did you ditch me?”

Tom looked everywhere and nowhere. “Yes,” he answered, defeated.

“Now, do you think I can ever forgive you?”

Tom didn’t answer.

You reached for your purse, for the locket that dug deep inside. “I don’t know you,” you stated giving him the locket, the stupid locket you’d bought as a joke when making fun of other couples and now laughed in your face. “Whatever happened means nothing. Because that’s the thing Tom. Everything we lived was a lie, those two people in the locket are not us, because you weren’t who you said you were, no matter how much I loved it, it’s not true and though it was too many emotions all at once I’m—It’s not real, not for you. I spent this whole time thinking I wanted you to apologize but I don’t want it. That charming guy wasn’t truly you because you omitted one very important thing. You—What were you thinking? Were you planning to never say it? Or did you plan it like that? Just ditching me, hoping I wouldn’t find out—“

Tom took a deep breath. “No—No, I didn’t. I just—-I didn’t know what to do. I’m so sorry, I should’ve told you and I should’ve fixed it before—-“

“No, no you didn’t because it wasn’t enough for you.”

Tom gulped, “It was, it was—-the best thing I’ve ever had.”

“And you ruined it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“How little words mean when you’re a little too late, huh?” And that was the cue you needed to walk away. He silently watched you as you tried not to cry.

“I’m really sorry.” He said.

Was he?

“What if I try to prove it to you?” He asked as you were steps away from him.

You didn’t stop.

“If we go over this, you’ll see I never lied about it.” He continued.

“I already went over it, I remember everything, Tom, and maybe that’s why I don't want to talk to you.”

Tom walked behind, slowly. “I just happened to be very unlucky when it came to my own circumstances,” he reached over. “And I wish the timing had been better. But you’re right, it’s the one real thing I’ve ever had and I lost it because I hid something in fear of losing you. I lied because it was too good to be true. And I understand if you don’t want anything to do with me but I think you deserve to know why. But you went to the bar for a reason, and you had the locket for another.”

You stopped this time. Looking down at the floor and then at his hand, holding your stupid scarf. You shook your head, you really didn’t want to go through it all over again.

“I know you won’t forgive me,” he stated. “But I can’t let you go. You’re everywhere. And I miss the person I was when you were around, and I won’t stop fighting because you’re everywhere. Dreams, nightmares.”

Funny. You were his demons too.

“Am I haunting your nightmares?” You asked. Tom only watched you.

He took a deep breath. “I don’t expect you to forgive me, I just need—I really need you to listen to my version.”

“Fine then, let’s go down this sad, beautiful tragic love affair.”

-

next chapter

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[cocobeanncteez]

ATEEZ Hongjoong: Tame (Part 2)

Genre: Fluff, angst, smut, mafia au.

Pairing: Mafia!Hongjoong x OC (written in 2nd person)

Word Count: 17k in total, 4.8k in this part. (Part 1, Part 3, Final Part)

Warnings for all parts combined: Mafia themes such as torture, abuse, violence, human auctions, murder, drugs, guns. Mentions of rape, human trafficking, sex slavery, organ trafficking, unprotected sex (pulling out), facesitting.

Other than Ateez, all other names are fictional.

You woke up in a room that was similar to the one you were in at the human auction. You shivered in fear. Was your cousin really going to sell you now?

You broke down in tears. You didn't expect things to turn out this way at all. You wished you knew where your father was so that you could report your uncle and his son easily.

The door of the room you were in opened and a man walked in. "Ah! You're awake!"

"Where am I?" you asked Bojoon, glaring at him with disgust.

"At an auction, sweetheart." Your heart dropped. "Let's hope someone buys you for a very high price." You felt your stomach churn with anxiety. Who was going to help you now? You wished you hadn’t gone to the club.

"But before that..." he stepped forward to caress your cheek with the back of his hand. "I'm going to make you scream."

He moved his hand slowly from your cheek, down to your chest. "Stop," you whispered, earning a hard slap from him. He pushed you against the wall, forcing his knee in between your legs. Your cheek stung badly and you were sure his hand would’ve left a mark.

He snarled, harshly pulling on your hair. "Don't you dare open your mouth, you fucking bitch!"

He ripped the top part of your dress in half, exposing your upper body that was now only covered by your bra. You brought your hands up to cover yourself, but he pushed them away. Reaching into his pocket, he took out a pocket knife, making a large cut on your arm. You whimpered in pain, eyes filling with tears. He smirked at the cut that had began to bleed.

"Blood, my favorite! Ah, this makes it more exciting, doesn't it?" you didn’t reply, trying to control the urge to break down.

He moved his hands to your thighs. "Let's have some fun now, shall we?"

Bojoon was just about to touch your core, but someone snuck up behind him, piercing his neck with a syringe.

You slid down the wall, eyes scrunched closed and ears covered while Bojoon screamed in pain. In a few seconds, the screaming stopped and you heard him fall to the floor with a thud. You slowly peaked, finding Bojoon unconscious on the floor. Was he dead?

You glanced up at the two figures who were present in the room, both dressed in all black; one of them was smaller than the other. Both of them were wearing a black mask and hat. The bigger one approached you, kneeling down. He took his leather jacket off, wrapping it around your body.

"Wear it. It's cold," he said softly, helping you slide your arms into the sleeves. He zipped the jacket up to the top before helping you stand up. The jacket came right below your knee.

"Let's get out of here fast, Yunho," the smaller one said and you recognized him. You were surprised you couldn’t recognize Yunho by his voice.

"San…?"

"Yes, it's me, Kiah," San replied and you sighed in relief before breaking down in tears again.

San approached you and slowly pulled you into his arms. "Shh, you're safe now. We won't let anyone hurt you, alright?" You didn’t say anything while you cried onto his chest, tears soaking his shirt.

"Kiah, we have to get out of here before his men come here," Yunho remarked. "Can I carry you?" You nodded and Yunho took you from San's arms, lifting you bridal-style.

"Yeosang, is the area clear?" San questioned through his earpiece.

"Yes, but there's someone at the exit," Yeosang informed.

"Got it," San said before turning to Yunho. "Alright, let's go. Kiah, just close your eyes, okay?" You nodded, obeying him.

You could feel Yunho running fast with you in his arms. You heard a gunshot, making you let out a scream, scrunching your eyes tightly.

"Don't worry. I’ve got you," Yunho whispered to you.

After a few more seconds, you felt Yunho place you on a car seat. You opened your eyes, watching Yunho close the car door and run to the driver's seat. San quickly slides into shotgun before shooting someone who came out of the building.

Yunho immediately started to drive and San shifted to the backseat, sitting beside you. He took off his mask and hat, ruffling his hair with his hand.

"Are you okay?" San asked worriedly.

"Y-Yeah," your voice broke and you began to cry. San pulled you into his arms, letting you cry on him again. There was a lot of blood dripping down your arm from the cut Bojoon gave you.

"Yunho, how far are we from home?" San questioned. "Kiah's bleeding and we don't have a first aid kit in this car."

"We're about two kilometers away," Yunho answered, speeding up.

In about three minutes, you reached Ateez's mansion. This time, San carried you inside, walking at a fast pace.

"Yeosang! Seonghwa!" he yelled before setting you down on the couch in a room that looked like a medical laboratory. There was another room attached to it and you could obviously tell that it was an operating room. You weren’t surprised as you knew Ateez had enough money to have their own mini hospital at home.

The two men cautiously approached you, not wanting to accidentally trigger you in any way after they were filled in about what happened.

"I'm fine," you told them.

Seonghwa sat beside you, slowly touching your arm. "Can I?" he asked and you nodded. He pushed the sleeve of Yunho's black leather jacket up, revealing the bleeding cut. “Could you take the jacket off so that I can treat you?” you did as he said.

He cleaned the cut with cotton dipped in lukewarm water and you flinched at the sting. Looking down at the cut, you noticed how it was wider on one side.

"You will need stitches," Seonghwa stated. You glanced at the cut; he was right, of course.

"Are you hurt anywhere else?" Yeosang asked.

You shook your head. "No... Only my head hurts." Seonghwa started to gather whatever he needed to stitch up your wound.

Yeosang nodded. "I'll give you a painkiller for your head." He said, moving to the cabinet.

"Okay," you replied before turning to look at San and Yunho. “Thank you…”

"You don't have to thank us, Kiah," Yunho said with a smile. "We're just glad you're safe."

After Seonghwa stitched and bandaged your wound, he asked you a few questions about how you were feeling while Yeosang made you take a painkiller.

A loud bang was heard and Hongjoong stormed into the room.

"Do you even realize what you've fucking done?!" Hongjoong yelled at you in a stern tone. He looked extremely angry; it actually really scared you.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, lowering your head in shame.

He scoffed. "You should be fucking sorry! And you two," he turned to face San and Yunho who looked just as scared as you. "How dare you both start your own little mission without asking me, hmm?! We made a deal with Moon Younghyun long ago that we will not interfere in their personal matters and they won't interfere in ours! Do you even realize who you killed?! You killed his fucking son!" You flinched at the way he was yelling. "You've put yourselves and our entire gang in unnecessary danger!"

"We didn't kill him," San mumbled, not making eye contact with Hongjoong. "We only made him unconscious."

"And you went through all that fucking bullshit for what?" Hongjoong pointed a finger at you. "To get this damn chick out?! She doesn't even want to be here!" You felt really bad that the boys were getting scolded because of you.

"She was going to get sold again, hyung," Yunho mumbled while looking at the floor.

Hongjoong chuckled bitterly. "So what? Like I said before, she doesn't want to be here. She escaped from us, right? Why the fuck are you so bothered about her?! Whether she gets sold or not, it's not our fucking problem!" Your eyes teared up; you felt so guilty for escaping.

"That's enough, Hongjoong," Seonghwa stated sternly.

"Don't take their side when you know that they're wrong, Seonghwa," Hongjoong retorted.

"Do you even know what Moon Younghyun's son was going to do to Kiah?"

"No, and I seriously don't care about what he was going—"

"He was going to rape her, Hongjoong. He already assaulted her," Seonghwa explained, cutting Hongjoong off. "Fortunately, San and Yunho got there in time."

There was pin-drop silence in the room.

Hongjoong opened his mouth a couple of times to say something, but nothing came out. He looked like he was in deep thought.

"I… I'm sorry," he whispered, not looking at you, before leaving the room. You wondered what suddenly came over him.

"Is he okay?" you questioned.

"Don't worry about it," Seonghwa said with a small smile. He exchanged a glance with Yeosang who nods and leaves the room as well. You were pretty confused by their glance-communication, but you didn't say anything.

"I'm really sorry,” you apologized to San and Yunho. "You both got scolded because of me."

San frowned. "Don't apologize, Kiah. We've been scolded many times before."

"Yeah," Yunho agreed with San. "Hyung is just angry because we didn't tell him about it and he’s scared to lose us. If we had informed him, he would be the first person to rescue you."

You only nod, accepting whatever they said. "By the way… how did you both find me?" You couldn’t help but ask.

"Well, Yunho and I were searching for you everywhere after you left," San explained. "We figured you'd go to a club or some bar, so we checked everywhere. Yunho saw you passing out and by the time he ran to our own car to go after you, your cousin's car was no where in sight. Yeosang had to hack into a lot of cameras in close-by areas to find out where exactly you were taken to." You nodded, listening to whatever he was saying.

"Kiah?" Yunho started in a hesitant tone. "Do you… really not want to live with us?"

You let out a sigh as you pondered about what he said. "I don't want to, honestly. There's nothing wrong with you guys, but the whole mafia lifestyle… I just didn't expect that. I really just want to become a nurse and live a normal life."

"Kiah, I'd like to mention something," Seonghwa said in a soft tone. "Your uncle has been in the mafia business since before you were even born." Your eyes widened at his words as you didn't know that; you thought your uncle was just a corrupted politician. "You were basically born into that life even if your parents aren't into it. And since you lived under his roof, you were actually constantly at risk." You only keep quiet, letting his words sink in.

"Stay with us for a week," San suggested. "If you still want to leave after that… we'll let you go."

~

The next morning, Yunho and Mingi gave you a tour around the mansion while they told you random stories of the missions they've gone on. You found yourself enjoying their company. You were quite surprised at the amount of money mafias make; you were so sure that Ateez were billionaires.

The three of you sat on the benches at the mansion's garden, getting a little sun.

"When did you both join the mafia?" you curiously asked the two giants who were literally a foot taller than you. They had such bright and bubbly personalities that you couldn't even believe they were in a mafia gang, let alone one of the most powerful gangs out there. 

"Yunho and I have been close friends ever since we were thirteen, and we joined Ateez together," Mingi said. "After my parents were murdered when I was seventeen, Yunho's parents took me in. But since I witnessed my parents' murder and saw the murderers' faces, they came after Yunho's family and killed his parents while searching for me because I had escaped before they could kill me as well."

"But we got our sweet revenge after we joined Ateez," Yunho added with a smirk. "Hongjoong came up to us during my parents' funeral and promised to kill the murderers if we joined his gang. He kept his word and the murderers were, in fact, another mafia gang."

"Do you ever regret joining the gang?" you questioned, curious because they joined only to take revenge.

"Nope."

"Never."

"Ateez is our family now," Yunho stated with a smile. "Hongjoong created this family and we're all genuinely happy even if this isn't a normal lifestyle. We're almost always at some risk, but we got each other's backs." Mingi nodded his head in agreement.

"Wow," was all you could say. The boys only laughed at that.

"It's a little overwhelming, I know," Mingi chuckled.

"Let's go back inside," Yunho suggested.  "It's cold out here, you know?" You and Mingi nodded before making your way inside the mansion.

As soon as you entered the mansion, you were hit with the scent of something absolutely amazing. Mingi inhaled deeply, a wide smile immediately appearing on his face.

"Wooyoung is cooking!" Mingi squealed before running to sit on the couch in the living room. You sat beside him, and Yunho sat on the opposite couch.

"He always does, dumbass," Yeosang muttered from the kitchen while helping Wooyoung. Even Jongho was there, cutting some vegetables.

Mingi pouted a little. "Seonghwa hyung cooks sometimes too, okay! Besides, I'm really hungry."

"Food will be ready in another hour," Wooyoung informed while stirring some stew. "Why don't you eat an apple for now, Mingi?"

"Jongho," Mingi called out.

You watched Jongho wash two apples before he made his way to the living room where you, Mingi, and Yunho were seated. He stood in front of Yunho and effortlessly split one of the apples in half, handing one half of it to Yunho and putting the other half in between his teeth, leaving you dumbfounded. He split the other apple and handed one half to you and the other half to Mingi.

You glanced at Mingi and Yunho who didn't even seem fazed by Jongho's actions.

"Did I just witness the baby of the family break two apples in halves with his bare hands?" Jongho smiles brightly at your words.

"He may be the baby, but he's scary as fuck," Mingi mumbled from beside you, making you raise an eyebrow while you ate your piece of apple; you found Jongho absolutely adorable. You were about to say something, but Hongjoong came into the living room, his eyes on you.

"Can we talk?" he asked, making eye contact for barely three seconds before he turned around and walked away. You bit your lip nervously, unsure of what to do after the way he lashed out on you last night.

"Go on," Jongho said. "He won't yell at you or anything, I'm sure of it." You only nod before getting up and following Hongjoong.

You followed Hongjoong to the large library of the mansion. You didn't get to see the inside of the library when Mingi and Yunho showed you around. They said you would spend a lot of time in there anyway.

When you entered the library, your jaw dropped. The large bookshelves were floor to ceiling, and only one of the walls had a window that was floor to ceiling as well. You loved reading, so you were quite astonished at the amount of books they had in here. You could see big, thick books on one of the shelves and you just knew that they were definitely medical books. There were also large couches to lounge on while you read. It even had a fridge and a coffee maker.

Hongjoong sat down on one of the couches placed at the end. You stood there awkwardly, not uttering a word. He patted the free space beside him, signaling you to sit down.

You hesitantly move to sit down beside him, looking down at your hands and fiddling with your fingers while you waited for him to talk about whatever he wanted to talk about. Somehow, you felt quite nervous. Was he going to yell at you for causing a huge problem for his gang? Or was he going to kill you for that? If any of the two are going to happen, you were hoping for the former; you really did not want to die in a mafia's mansion… although, it wasn't that bad of a place to die in.

You heard him inhale and exhale deeply. "I'm sorry, Kiah."

You stopped playing with your fingers and looked up at him, wondering if you heard him clearly. "What…?"

"I’m sorry," he repeated, running a hand through his hair. "For lashing out on you like that without knowing what exactly happened." You were not expecting that at all, considering Hongjoong had quite the temper.  

Your eyebrows furrowed in slight confusion. "Shouldn't you apologize to San and Yunho instead?"

"I already apologized to them," he remarked. "I shouldn't have yelled at you when you were in such a state."

"No, it’s okay, I understand why you did that," you mumbled, looking away. It was true, you really did understand. "I put your gang at risk."

He nodded. "Yes, you did. But I'm glad San and Yunho saved you before…" he gulped, “before anything worse could happen."

"Why?" you murmured. You really thought that he hated you after whatever happened.

Hongjoong leaned back against the couch, head titled back, staring at the ceiling.  "Because I had to witness someone I loved and cherished get raped in front of my eyes,” he said in a soft voice. "She was my sister… she didn't survive. They raped and then killed her right in front of my eyes… four months ago."  A soft gasp escaped from you; your heart felt like it just got shattered. Tears spilled from your eyes as you choked back a sob.

"I'm so sorry," you whispered to him, pulling him into a comforting hug that he immediately melted into. "I'm really sorry."

Hongjoong couldn't control his own tears. He broke down as soon as he saw your tears, unable to control himself any longer. As the leader of a powerful mafia gang, he always tried to stay strong in front of his gang members, never showing how broken he felt at times even though he knew that they knew how he felt. He just didn't want to show any signs of weakness when he has people to lead.

But right now, Hongjoong needed this. He really just wanted and needed someone to hold him while he cried his heart out.

He sniffled. "I know you hate this life, but I want you to stay with us… with me," he whispered the last part but you heard him.

"Please, let me protect you," he continued. "I will never forgive myself if anything happens to you. Please, stay here."

His words caused your heartbeat to speed up, butterflies fluttering about in your stomach. You pulled away from the embrace, reaching out to wipe his tears. “Okay, I’ll stay.”

He smiled a little, lightly placing his lips onto your head, making your heart go crazy. "Thank you, Kiah."

~

The next day during breakfast, you found two unfamiliar faces seated at the dining table with the rest of the boys and Jiwoo.

"Good morning," you greeted before you took the free seat beside Hongjoong. He gave you a smile that you couldn't help but return.

"Good morning!" A few of them said while the others just smiled at you. The dining table was filled with waffles, bacon, and cut fruits.

"Ah, so she's the little trouble!" one of the two girls with short hair said.

You chuckled. "The one and only," you replied, making her laugh.

"I like her already," she remarked with a smirk. "I believe we're the last of the members who you haven't met. I'm Aeji and she's Yeoreum." So these were Seonghwa's and Mingi's girls respectively.

"Sorry to interrupt your introduction session, ladies," Wooyoung said. "But could you please pass the chocolate syrup? My waffles are getting cold, you know?" 

Aeji snorted before passing the bottle of chocolate syrup to Wooyoung whose face lit up immediately at the sight of it.

Hongjoong put two chocolate chip waffles on your plate. "Eat well, hmm?" he said and you nodded before talking a bite of the waffle.

Your eyes widened at the taste; these were definitely the best waffles you have ever eaten in your twenty two years (and counting) of existence.

"She loves them," Aeji said to Seonghwa who gave you a happy smile while you ate.

"I'm glad," Seonghwa stated. He always felt good whenever someone enjoyed his food 

"Everyone loves whatever you make anyway," Mingi mumbled while stuffing his face. 

"So true," Yunho agreed. "If we didn't have Wooyoung and Seonghwa hyung, we would've pretty much survived on take out."

You couldn't even believe how these people were in the mafia. They just seemed so normal. At least in this very moment, they did.

All eleven of them made you feel so welcomed. Even Hongjoong was being so nice to you. When you told them that you decided on staying with them, everyone was ecstatic. You were quite surprised that they trusted you so easily; you had seen a couple of mafia movies before, and usually, the hostage isn't trusted at all. People in the mafia are portrayed as cold-hearted monsters, but these people in front of you seemed far from it.

After breakfast, you headed to the library of the mansion to check out which books they had. You were surprised to find so many fictions and comics. You pulled a book off of one of the shelves, reading the blurb on the cover at the back.

"Found something interesting?" you heard Hongjoong say from behind you, scaring you. You took a step back as reflex, your back pressed against the bookshelf. You had no idea when he entered the library.

"Fuck, you scared me!"

Hongjoong chuckled before his eyes fell to the book you were holding. "Mastering her senses," he read the title of the novel aloud . The way he said those three words made you suck in a breath; it sounded so hot. His eyes stared into yours while a smirk formed on his handsome face.

You involuntarily bit your lip and it didn't go unnoticed by him. "Have you read this book?" you questioned, looking up at him with innocent eyes despite holding a book that was erotic. 

Hongjoong took a small step towards your body that was still pressed against the bookshelf. "Mhmm, I have read it," he answered, his tongue darting out to wet his plump lips. "I like erotic romance novels," he remarked, his gaze falling to your lips for a second. His phone started ringing and he takes it out from his pocket. "You should read it," he said before walking away to answer the call.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath before shakily exhaling. "Fuck," you whined, exasperated due to the dull ache you felt down there. Kim Hongjoong really just made you get aroused. You wondered if he did it on purpose or if you were just feeling that way because it has been pretty long since you got some action. You were guessing it was both.

~

Sometime before twilight, you decided to take a walk around the mansion, exploring the area more. There was a small building at the back that wasn't attached to the mansion; it was just a plain white block with a door and no windows. Mingi and Yunho didn't tell you what the building was used for when they gave you a tour around the mansion. You were quite curious to know about it now as you stared at the large steel doors that required a passcode to open.

The door of the building suddenly opened, revealing Wooyoung and Hongjoong who were having a conversation. They stopped talking when they noticed you standing a few feet away from the entrance.

"Oh? Kiah? What are you doing here?" Wooyoung asked, a little surprised to see you here of all places.

"I was taking a walk," you answered. "What is this building? Mingi and Yunho didn't tell me anything about it."

"Ah, they probably didn't want to scare you off," Hongjoong replied.

"Oh…” you murmured, obviously understanding that it had some mafia-related stuff inside.

"By the way," Wooyoung starts, making you look at him. "Uh, I don't know how else to put this, but you really need to learn how to use a gun, Kiah."

Your eyes widened. "A gun? Why?"

"To protect yourself, just in case," he answered. "Everyone saw your face at the auction and they all will assume that you're a sex slave now. If any of them find you roaming around freely, even if you're with any of us, they might abduct you." Wooyoung's words made a chill run down your spine, but you acted like as if you were fine. Honestly, you were terrified, and they both could see that.

"Okay," you agreed without a second thought.

"I'll teach her," Hongjoong said, earning a nod from Wooyoung. He looked at you, giving you a small smile. "Do you want to start now?"

"Sure," you answered and he took your hand in his, pulling you inside the white building. You were surprised to find that there was absolutely nothing inside except a few bicycles. Hongjoong pauses at another set of doors before entering the passcode, revealing a set of stairs. He pulled you along with him, walking past a couple of doors, and you felt like this place was familiar.

"Haven't I been here?" you questioned, eyebrows furrowing in slight confusion as you tried to recall when you’ve been here.

"Yes, the interrogation room is here," Hongjoong explained, "This entire area is connected to the mansion."

"What do you use this area for?" you blurted out.

"Various things," he simply answered before stopping in front of a door and entering a passcode again; they had a lot of security here. Once you entered the room, you realized that it was a large shooting range. Your eyes widened at the sight of various guns adorning one of the walls. You couldn’t even imagine how much money was spent on it.

Hongjoong took a pair of headphones and yellow tinted glasses before making you wear them. He handed you a small, thin silver gun after loading it with a few bullets. "Safety's off, be careful," he warned and you nodded, holding the gun like as if it was very delicate.

"Well, using a gun is very simple," Hongjoong starts, "It's exactly how they show it in movies, aim and pull the trigger. Your aim will always be the most important thing when it comes to shooting, and it's best to shoot the heart.”

Hongjoong demonstrates how to shoot, and the bullet perfectly hit the dummy target’s heart. “See? It’s that simple. You can try it now.”

You put both your hands on the grip of the gun, tilting your head slightly to check if your aim was at the dummy target's heart. You were shaking a little, but you tried your best to ignore it.

"Pull the trigger when you’re ready."

And so you did.

However, the gun recoiled, making you shriek as you fell backwards… right into Hongjoong’s arms.

"Oops, I forgot to mention about the knockback," he chuckled against your head before helping you stand up straight. He looked at the dummy target that you shot. "Mhmm, not bad for a beginner. You shot him in the liver, princess." Your heart raced at the name he called you.

Hongjoong put an arm around your waist, pulling your body against his while he raised your arm a little, focusing on the target. "Shoot," he whispered, and you pulled the trigger again. "See? Bullet to the heart. We're going to practice everyday, yeah? That’s how you’ll become better at it.”

[midday0nightmares]

15 - impending.

previous chapter painless.

m.list.

warnings: this series contains themes of yandere\mafia, blood, violence, mental health, drugs, non-con.

author note: this is pure fiction and it is not intended to romanticize any of the situations mentioned bellow.

You stir awake, nausea stirring inside your stomach, you press on your temples to clam the throbbing headache as a train of memories rams through you sparking anger. you stand up in a your foggy state, moved by rage. you open the door looking for your assailant, the bright lights momentarily blinds you before you can locate him, your fists squeezes at the sight of him.

“You!” You shout at him getting his attention.

You stomp towards him bypassing the other two men, he seats still in his place unthreatened by you, your vision breaks as angry tears fill your eyes.

“You! You let them drug me and watched them..“ 

you attacked him, hitting whatever part of him your hands reach. his hands moves to restrain your arms. “Sera!” Jeno shout your name, his loud voice having no effect on you.

“you piece of shit! No body loves and nobody will.. I fucking hate you“, the venomous words were your last attack before jeno could pull you off of jaemin.

Time crawled over you as you cried. the tears you swore you wouldn’t cry anymore rolled down your cheeks, a new sense of inferiority bloomed inside you, you were that insignificant.

the pain swirled inside of you creating a black hole, feeding on your soul, slowly killing you from the inside. You were scared, scared of rebuilding yourself again, because every time you did they would annihilate you in the most brutal way. you stayed low in the cold arms of depression seeing no point in gathering the pieces anymore.

You denounced eating, sleeping, talking to them or even being in the same room as they were in, it pained you that on one seemed to care, further affirming your sense of worthlessness.

You were laying on the couch wallowing into your grief when Jeno came dragging his feet and plopped on the couch next to you.. you stood up ready to leave the room, your puffy eyes and red nose gave up your prideful act, you walked past him but he grabbed your wrist to stop you, faint anger bubbles inside of you, you yanked your arm out of his hand, He titles his head, sympathetic look on his face “oh come on” he snatched you from behind and threw you on the couch and laid half of his weight on top of you preventing you form leaving. You struggled and protested but it all went in vain as he didn’t let you go.. he cuddled closer to you  

“You still mad?” you scuffed at his dumb question, He tried to tickle you when you didn’t answer him but he stopped when you didn’t react.. 

“Wanna tell me what’s on your mind?” He asks you in the most caring tone, his hand stroking your back, the tenderness of his act makes you want to cry, you bury your face into the couch cushion to hid his effect on you.

“no”.. 

He sensed your breathing fast and shallow as you try to regain control if your emotions, he remains quite and continue to stroke your back, you lay on your stomach next to him on the verge of melting into him again.. 

“Wanna go for a walk?” He speaks again.

Is he trying to bribe you with a walk? 

You shake your head, still refusing to face him, 

“You sure? There’s playground near by, we can get your favorite ice cream, what do say?” He asks you again, The offer is to tempting for you say no, you need it.

“Okay..” you pulled yourself up and sat on your knees, the pout still visible on your face.

“But I don’t have shoes to wear“, He burst laughing “it’s ok i have the rain boots you can wear them”.

You got dressed, you looked like a closet had thrown up on you but it is fine, it’s late and streets are empty anyway.. 

You walk in the elevator, his eyes lingers on your face,

 “You’re cute when you pout but please stop it”

he ruffles your hair and you flinch away from him, it was a spontaneous reflex your body learned to do after what he had done to you that day, you haven’t forgotten.

He retracts his hand and sigh. The elevator door opens and he stretched h his hand for you to hold it, you roll your eyes and wrap your fingers around his forearm instead, He pushes his hands into his pockets as he leads you out the building, he walks in a slow pace to match yours, you keep your head down, watching your feet switch as you walk..

The fresh air enters your system and energizes you, you already feel better, lighter. 

You reach the store, he picks up your favorite ice cream like he promised he would, and more of your favorite snacks, the small gesture warms your heart.

You resume your walk to the playground, when you arrived, he takes a sets on the swing content with watching you play around, Eventually you took the swing next to him.

“Can i ask you something?” You said, He hums and awaits your question.

You look down and think how to say it without offending him, you clear the lump in your throat that formed at the memory.

“Did you know? that i was.. ” you were referring to the pregnancy, your question hangs in the ai as he avoids your eyes when you look at him, his turn to stare at the ground. 

“Mm .. no I didn’t” he sounds apologetic, you let go of the breath you were holding.. his answer bringing you a small sense of relief. 

“Can i ask you a question?” He speaks taking you by surprise, 

 “you can” you nod, and without hesitation he asks “Are you scared of me?” his eyes trained on you watching your reaction. you were blindsided by unexpected question.. you take a minute to think about your feelings towards him, was it fear? Hatred? Both? 

“Umm .. honestly?” 

He nods eagerly,

“I am, I'm scared of everything these day.. “ your voice dies as your thoughts wonders off.

Nothing is said after, you kick the dirt under your feet, you had enough of being outside “can we go back now?”, he doesn’t say anything as he stand up and groans as he stretches his arms.

he doesn’t try to hold your hand this time, but offers his arm for you to hold to start your walk back..

You lean on the elevator wall as you yawn, he looks at you with unspoken emotions that hid behind his eyes, you didn’t want to fool yourself, but it looks like guilt. 

his hand reach to rub your ear that was sticking out of your hair, “I had to do it.. you don’t want to be tide to us like that” he whispers but you heard it. you look at at him with shock written over your face, he pursed his lips.

You walk into the apartment to find the lights turned on,  jaemin and heachan sat in the living room, apparently waiting for you, your stomach sinks at the sight of him, your breathing and heartbeat accelerates, haechan face lights up with a sinister smile when he sees you.

Your body trembles as you take a step back.

“Jaemin.. can i talk to you for a minute?” jeno points to the balcony.. Jaemin sighs and gets up to follow jeno.

You swallow the thick node, twisting your cold fingers in your hands as you anxiously wait for them to comeback. haechan’s eyes never left your shaking form, he winks at you when your eyes lands on him, turning your stomach, your bottom lip was the victim of your teeth as you chowed as you watched jeno and jaemin argue behind the glass door.

 jeno grabbing jaemin’s shoulders and shakes him, jaemin seems to refuse whatever jeno was telling him, jeno keeps talking and jaemin suddenly looks at you through the glass .. his eyes piercing through your soul, his face contorted with strong emotions making your heart to leap in fear.

they come back in the room and it feels like your fate has been decided and sealed.