#the full piece is actually of the exact moment in the final days when they realize they probably wont make it out alive
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wolvndmouth · 2 months ago
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Guys. I think about this shot a lot. Seven (7) times a day, minimum.
This is the exact moment Wade realizes that Logan looks at him, like really looks at him. Logan’s eyes have always been reading Wade in every way they can. Annoyed and scowling aside, he tries in earnest to understand who Wade is through his cracked humor and self-depreciation. No matter how angry he is, no matter how confused he is, he has eyes on Wade. When they’re staring at each other from opposite sides of a gun, when they’re sitting across each other in the diner, when they first fight in the Void, when they argue in the Odyssey; each one of these scenes have a moment where Wade is showing his cards and Logan, even through his rage and thirst to hurt, stills himself to listen and learn for as long as he can.
The man has no choice in the matter. Charles left him with the burden of knowing what it is to be loved, even at his most difficult. He’s felt the healing that comes from someone being able to look past his defenses and aggression and have the patience to plant compassion in the spaces of him that need it the most. He hasn’t been able to bring himself to unbury all the good he had before the bad, but it doesn’t stop him from having the guts to be gentle and kind when someone least deserves it. One of his gentlest moments is when he takes Juggernaut’s helmet off Cassandra to save her, and his wish to be the man that Charles thinks he is is what strengthens his ability to comfort the displaced and love-starved child that Nova really is. It is that same hope that allows him to take a chance on Wade. All Logan can do is hear him out and do his best to see the merc for who he truly is. It takes him some time, but from the moment they met in the bar, to joining Wade’s world, Logan’s gaze never wavers; it only changes as he grows to understand Wade more. He is able to look past Deadpool, and see Wade Wilson.
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‘Never take your eyes off an enemy’ evolves into looking at a mirror to his own soul. Wade is everything Logan is, and everything Logan isn’t. They are yin and yang down to the very cores of their being, and for Logan, it’s a tough pill to swallow when he realizes just how easy it is for Wade to love. It’s not only consistently thrown in his face with Wade’s repeated reminders of what’s at stake, but Wade showing him the picture of everything he has left forces him to reflect on the walls he’s built around himself and why. He has made so many mistakes, and he can do nothing but examine his own failures as an X-Man and as Logan himself. He is astounded by Wade’s ability to survive with his heart so crudely stapled to his sleeve, and when he looks at that photo, there’s a piece of him that almost wouldn’t mind being a part of the portrait. He thinks of a world where Scott doesn’t have to beg him to put on the suit. Where Jean, Storm, and Beast aren’t dead. Where Charles is still there to remind him everyday that he matters. Maybe a world where Charles could meet Wade and remind him that he matters too. But “when they fix your world” becomes “if they fix your world”, I imagine in the bitterness of that, Logan starts off repulsed by Wade’s openness to overfill his cup and share what overflows. It’s a slow eventuality, but inevitable nonetheless; Logan learns how to let Wade pour into him. His eyes soften and steady towards Wade as their relationship progresses. When being introduced to Althea, it’s obvious that something inside him has calmed, and the soft nod he gives is the only way Logan knows how to say that actually wants to be there. He’s answered Wade’s call and didn’t walk away. Logan can finally look at Wade with a sureness that he’s not going anywhere.
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[GIF by bettercallcohen]
And I think Wade can feel that. Wade is so open because his universe is so small compared to everyone else’s. 9 people. 9 people who make him feel seen, make his heart full, and that make him feel like he belongs somewhere. So when he’s presented with the chance to add #10 to the Polaroid, when someone can actually see him through his vulgarities, through the violence, through his cancerous mutation, it’s more than just surprising when it’s someone like Logan. It’s been a long time since someone’s looked at him like he’s home. No one has looked at him that way since Vanessa. And he probably felt like no one would ever look at him that way ever again. But then here comes Logan, all eyes on him, shredding him to pieces and picking him apart. Wade is the only person he knows in this world, and Wade is the only person in this world that knows him. Logan is forced to confront the idea of being seen and being needed by someone again. Wade comes to him in a crazy, desperate attempt to save the people he loves, and instead he finds one more person to violently stitch into the fabric of his existence.
It’s intense, probably for the both of them, but Wade only knows intensity. Maximum effort. Nothing is off the table, nothing is left behind. Wade’s eyes are as loud as his mouth and bear a burden of their own; a burden of honesty when it comes to conveying his feelings as being one of the only things the Weapon-X experimentation left true and untouched. He sees the truth and they speak the truth. He could see right through Logan from the moment they met. Where Logan could only see a traitor, the Worst Wolverine, Wade saw someone that could teach him how to be a hero. Where Logan could only see himself as the wrong guy for the job, Wade knew this man was the only one capable of saving everyone and everything he loved in this world. He just wasn’t expecting Logan to become part of that world.
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Wade is a tractor beam for both the jaded and the gentle, and there is a softness in his eyes that is warm and inviting and penetrating all at the same time. For Wade, it’s not hard to look at Logan and see the tired parts of himself in him. He sees in him the familiar longing for death. He sees a world where he doesn’t have Cable’s time machine to make things right, where Vanessa and Peter are still dead, and he’s blowing out birthday candles alone. Logan is a mirror in his own right; a reflection of not only his failures, but his fears as well. The fear that there may be a day where his luck runs out, and being crazy isn’t enough to save his world.
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Crazy is what Wade does best, and the two of them have more than enough instances where “your crazy matches my crazy”. But it’s not hard to see that the way Logan looks at Wade during those moments morphs from a sharpened hostility to a warm familiarity. Though the context of this last scene is Logan fulfilling his duty as a wingman, it is the very second Wade realizes that the other man’s gaze has lost its vitriol and conviction has taken its place. It’s the moment Wade figures out that Logan is serious about wanting to stay, serious about learning how to live in his universe, and serious about his change of heart towards him. It’s a Logan that has accepted his twin flame, and is comforted by the thought that he has someone now that can not only take everything he can give and more, but can bite back just as hard. It’s no secret that Wade holds a space for Logan, but he’s never been concerned with whether or not Logan has done the same. So the moment he’s met with a gaze that is as sure and true as Logan’s is, Wade knows there’s not only room for him to bare all, but now there’s someone that won’t shield their eyes and look away when he does.
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patscorner · 7 months ago
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FAMILY DINNER PART2
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Summary: Chris joins your family for dinner for the first time and it does not go as planned
Tw: Swearing, physical altercation, mentions of blood, verbal arguing, panic attack mentions of alcohol use, mentions of ed, lmk if I missed something
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The rest of the dinner was just as awkward as you'd thought it'd be. You can't really come back from your father implying you and your boyfriend just fucked in the bathroom of your childhood home, at the first family 'reunion' in 2 years.
So there you sat, eating your food in silence, waiting -no- begging, that someone cut the tension.
And finally someone does. And as they say, careful what you wish for.
"How many plates have you had, dear?" Your mom asked, looking up from her plate. You look back at her, before glancing at your plate and back to at her again.
"This is my second." You say, mouth full of food. You were thankful that people took your mother's talking as an invitation to also continue their conversations.
"Maybe we should slow down, you know? Save room for dessert, which you clearly don't need." She smiles, as if what she said was the best piece of advice she'd ever given anyone.
Her comments always bothered you, no matter how much you were told to ignore them. But when it came to your weight, it hurt the most. The comments were the worst in high school, as you were a little heavier than the average petite high schooler. But it was never as serious as your mom made it. So when you were a sophomore in high school, you developed an eating disorder, where you couldn't eat even if you tried, where you spent hours crying in front of the mirror, wishing you were skinnier to fit your mother's impossible expectations.
You fought that battle for years, 3 years to be exact. Your mom couldn't help because she saw nothing wrong with what you were doing. She would say, 'It's worth it.' And when you're young, you tend to believe everything your parents say because they'd 'never hurt you.' So after you moved out, Chris helped you get help, and you won your long and cruel battle. Obviously, you still have your days and your moments, but it wasn't nearly as bad as it used to be. Not with your new family. People who actually cared.
"S'cuse me?" You say, your voice laced with agitation.
"Well, honey, you don't want to get fat again, do you?" She said, shoveling broccoli into her mouth.
You had stopped chewing completely, making sure you heard her correctly. You looked over at Chris, who was looking at your mom with his jaw clenched. You look back at your mom and out your hand on Chris's thigh as to tell him to relax.
You felt him put his hand over yours and squeeze, a symbol of reassurance.
You sit back in your seat, looking at your plate in defeat. Guess you were done for the night. But your dad wasn't. In fact, your dad was drunk.
"Oh, honey, leave her alone. She's not nearly as huge as she used to be." He slurred, taking another sip from his beer.
"Okay, this isn't neces-" you start, only to be cut off by your parents. Shocker.
"What do you mean? I mean, look at her, David. She's just as big as she was in high school." You mom says gesturing to you.
Your heart dropped, anger and embarrassment filling your veins. "What the fuck, mom?!" You cry out. "Not only is that something you shouldn't say about people, especially your fucking kid, but I'm also right in front of you. At least have some decency to shit-talk me in private." You remove your hand from your boyfriends lap.
Your mom looks at you in shock, and your dad squints at you. "Woah, woah, relax dear. It's not only your fault. You can't help it." She said, reaching for your hand.
You pull your hand away, a look of disgust covering your face. "I don't want to hear that, mom, why's my weight always been a big fucking obsession of yours?" You snap. You feel Chris's hand on your thigh, which you push off quickly. Usually, when you're angry, the last thing you wanted was to be touched.
"It's not my fault. You were huge. I was trying to help you. Nobody wants a pig as their bride, y/n." She spits. Her words feel like daggers, stabbing into your heart.
"You weren't trying to help. You were doing this for yourself. You never cared about it. You only did it because it made you look good to have skinny, petite children. I'm not you or any of them." You gesture to you siblings. The conversations had stopped by now, all of them watching as you and your parents bickered. Embarrassing. "You're a selfish bitch, who never cared about anybody else but herself a-"
"Hey! You watch how you speak to your mother!" Your dad stands up, and instinctively, so did you and your siblings. James and Peter were the first up, while Julia walked over and made sure Maya wasn't in the room.
Nick, Matt, and Chris all stood up too, but they weren't sure what to do, which you would've found funny, but considering the circumstances...
"Let's all relax, okay." Peter attempts to butt in. He's always been so soft-spoken, but if he needs to, he'll beat the shit outta someone. You knew what he was capable of. You'd seen it when your first boyfriend cheated on you.
Your dad directed his attention to Peter. "You shut the fuck up. You have no room to speak because you're a sorry excuse for a son." He drunkenly pointed at Peter.
"You're talking. You can't even see straight half the time, let alone be eligible to give advice." James, your younger brother spits.
Ah, you'd taught him well.
"You watch your mouth before I knock you the fuck out." Your dad spits, and that seems to shut James up. It breaks your heart knowing your father hadn't changed, and when you left, probably laid hands on your younger siblings. And it appears as though Peter's heart broke, too.
Peter stepped closer to your dad, with the same face of anger you'd seem many times before. "You hit them too, Dad? After what you promised!?" He said, his voice raised.
It was all too much. There are too many memories, too many flashbacks. There are too many similarities of past events.
"O-okay, Peter, relax." You attempt, knowing how fast this could escalate. You hold Chris's hand and squeeze tightly.
"Yeah, listen to the pig, Peter." Your father gritted his teeth.
"With all due respect, sir, I'm gonna need you to stop calling your daughter a pig." You hear an unexpected voice. Chris.
Your dad whips his head, staring at Chris with his eyebrows raised, unimpressed. Little did he know, Chris played hockey, and his brothers, who wouldn't hesitate to jump in, also played hockey.
"Chri-" You start.
"No, no, I'd like to hear what he has to say." Your father mocks.
"No! No, please let's just sto-" you get cut off again.
"SHUT THE FUCK UP, Y/N." Your dad yells, taking very quick steps to you.
Chris stood in front of you, Peter and James behind your father.
"Move." He growled at Chris.
Chris sucked his teeth, with fake disappointment on his face. "Sorry, can't do that one, sir."
Your dad huffed, allowing Chris to smell every sip of alcohol he'd drunk. "Move." He stated again.
Chris shook his head. "That's my daughter! Get the fuck out of the way, tough guy."
Chris cocked his head. "Really, because based off what I've seen, you sure don't talk to her like it." He spoke, his voice calm, but stern.
That was it. Your dad snapped. He swung his fist, hitting Chris in the nose. "Dad! What the fuck!" You say.
You watch as Chris doubles over, holding his nose, followed by yelling from everyone in the room. You can't understand anything, but you do know that your dad's got his hands around your collar and is holding you close to his face.
You feel the tears start to fall as the scent of alcohol burns your nose. "You're a little bitch, letting this puny excuse of a man speak to me like that."
"Let her go, dad!" James screamed, followed by Peter's yelling.
You look over and make eye contact with your mom. She stood there, arms crossed, not a single expression on her face. She just let it happen.
Your dad shook you. "LOOK AT ME." He shouted in your face. You closed your eyes, as tears began to fall.
"CHRIS NO!" Nick yells. That's all you hear before you dropped. You didn't realize he was choking you until he let go. You look up and see Chris on top of your dad, landing blows like he if were in a hockey game. Your dad got a few heavy punches in, too, as you expected.
Chris had a bloody nose, a bloody lip, and crimson knuckles. Blood stained his big hands, and you couldn't tell if it was his or your father's.
Matt and Nick finally managed to push Chris out of the house, leaving you and your family. Your dad was still screaming drunk profanities, while James made sure you were okay. Peter and your mom held your dad back from chasing your boyfriend.
You had walked out of the dining room and went to sit on the stairs. Tears streamed down your face as you felt yourself slip into a familiar but unfamiliar trance. You were completely unaware of your surroundings at this point, so lost in your brain that the rest of your body was just frozen.
You don't know how long you are disassociating for, but you heard muffled shouting until you didn't. The yelling was replaced with ringing, something your brain did as a coping mechanism, mostly when you were young and hiding with your siblings in the bathroom while your dad trashed your home.
"-aby, can you take a deep breath from me?" You look up, but your vision is blurred, and you can't make out who's speaking - or anything for that matter.
You blink slowly, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. It usually took you a while to come back to reality during these moments.
"Can someone get her a cup of water?" You hear the voice again, and despite your yearning to speak, you can't get any words out. Your mouth opens, and you try to speak, but it comes out more of a choked whine.
"Shh, I know, sweetheart, it's okay." Chris wipes the tears coming for your cheeks. Your pupils were enlarged, and your eyes were open, but you couldn't see.
"Thank you." Chris muttered as Matt handed him a cup of ice water. "Here, baby." He put his hands in the icy water, shaking them, so his hands are damp. He took your hands, which had a death grip on your hoodie, and rubbed his cold fingers over your knuckles.
You focused on the feeling of his frigid fingers and you felt yourself coming back to reality.
You blink quickly as more tears fall. "Aw ma, don't cry, it's okay, sweetheart." Chris coos, placing his hands on your hips, rubbing his thumbs on the bone.
His attempts to ground you are successful, as your eyes finally focus on his eyes. "Hey, hey, you coming back to me, baby?" Chris asks, his voice soothingly attempting to comfort you.
You nod absent-mindedly, relief flooding your body as you come back to reality.
You take in your surroundings for the first time in what felt like forever. You're sat on the stairs, your hands shaking from the adrenaline flowing through your veins.
You finally make eye contact with Chris, his eyes full of love and worry. He's got a bruise on the side of his face, a busted lip, and blood falling from his nose, smeared on his upper lip.
"Chris..." you say, cupping his face, rubbing his cheeks down to his lip, frowning when he winced. "Baby..."
He pulls away, chuckling lightly. "It's fine, baby, I'm okay. I just wanted to make sure you were safe." He squeezed your hips in reassurance.
"I'm okay." You say. But then your mind screams at you. "Fuck, where's Maya... an-and, James. Oh, fuck, what about Julia and Pet-" your cut off by Chris's lips on yours. You sigh into the kiss, your hands trailing down his neck.
He pulls away and smiles sadly. "Thank you." You whisper, looking down. "Anytime, baby. I'm so sorry. God, I'm so fucking sorry." He said, leaning his forehead on yours.
You shake your head. "It's okay, he's a fucking asshole." Chris kisses your cheek. "Let's get outta here? I made a little bit of a mess."
You raise your eyebrows. "A little?" Chris kisses his teeth and scoffs.
You smile and kiss his cheek. "Anybody would've done it, Chris. It's okay, really." You speak softly.
Chris smiles and helps you up. "Let's go home." He leads you down the stairs and reaches for the door.
But it opens before he can open it.
"Oh my god."
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(Man, I wonder who that is)
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synthetickitsune · 25 days ago
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may i please request florist!san who secretly likes a regular at his flower shop, then he learns that she finally recently broke up with her ex so he does all kinds of things to cheer her up like slipping in cute notes or chocolates in the flowers she buys and to also maybe shoot his shot 🥹💕
thank youuu and no need to rush! please do take all the time you need 🫶
San (ATZ) | Flower Shop AU + hidden notes fluff | 0.9k | gn!reader
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The change wasn’t immediately recognizable for what it truly was. 
You might’ve missed a few weeks, which was concerning, but San understood that life happens and sometimes there’s just not enough time, money, or even energy to come to the flower shop, to keep the house looking pretty. 
And of course he spent the better part of those weeks worried if you’ll ever show up again.
Some little part of him hoped that you won’t - the unselfish one, the one that only cared about your happiness as he tends to care about all strangers that come to his shop. If you never come again, then perhaps your manchild of a boyfriend has finally grown into a full fledged man and started buying you flowers like you deserve instead of leaving you to do it yourself.
It was just one of the few pieces of information he got from the limited amount of small conversations you had. Your boyfriend would give you a couple bucks and tell you to go buy yourself some red roses. An exact amount that would in no universe be covered by the money he gave you. Truly, San wonders why you bothered with that guy. 
You deserve better. You deserve someone like him - but that’s only what the selfish part of his heart keeps telling him.
Things are different now, though. Something changed. You’re back to getting flowers, but they’re not roses anymore, and the bouquets are smaller. They also suit you more. You seem genuinely happy getting them.
San feels torn about it, although he’s mostly curious.
Until one day he sees your phone light up just as you’re about to pay, a name briefly flashing on the screen. You decline the call with lips pressed into a thin line. It’s not the time to be nosy, it’s not his place to ask-
“Is everything alright?” he asks carefully, then upon meeting your eyes he panics, “It’s just you seemed upset and you’ve been missing before…”
He’s just making it worse, he knows, but he hopes you can just take it as him being concerned about his business and not creepy. You study his face for a moment before sighing.
“We broke up,” you say simply, “And he keeps calling so that’s a little annoying.”
“Oh,” is all he can say.
And oh is all he can think for the rest of the day. Week, actually. And then he gets it together.
‘Together’ in a way that is perhaps concerning in its own way.
It might be too much - it is too much and wholly inappropriate. But San feels like a madman on a mission, hyping himself before the final stretch as he looks at the handful of notes and another small pile of envelopes.
The notes should be fine - they’re just generic words of encouragement, some may be a little too sweet for strangers, but not too much. The envelopes, well, they hold his heart. He must be in his right mind still if he thought to start with the notes and see how you accept them.
…And that doesn’t apply anymore weeks later when he’s stealthily slipping the first envelope into the bouquet before wrapping it for you. His heart is about to burst and you’re looking at him with concern. His hands are shaking, but at least you only noticed now. 
“Are you alright?” you ask, brows furrowed.
“Yeah, of course,” he smiles. It’s easy to make it genuine. 
“I…” you hesitate and he leans closer, nodding at you to continue, “I know I never said anything, but I wanted to thank you for the notes. I mean, you probably noticed I started coming in more. They just really helped me get through the hard times.”
He did notice. He also noticed you slowly opening up, lingering, gracing him with short conversation each time.
“I’m glad,” he says and he means it. Even if nothing comes out of this, making you happy is enough.
“So I was wondering, would you like to go on a date with me?” you bite your lip, “If you’re okay with going slow-”
“Yes,” he interrupts before you can change your mind. He already saw you spiral into overthinking many times, he’s not gonna do it today. “Absolutely. Just, uh, could you give that back to me?”
He points to the wrapped flowers in your hands. You look at him with a suspicion. “Why?”
“I don’t want to embarrass myself and make you change your mind, please?” he begs. Suddenly he can’t remember what’s written in the short letter. He only knows it’s sappy and pathetic.
“Is your number there?” you chuckle.
“Among other things,” he admits. For once he doesn’t like the way your smile grows bigger.
“Then if I like the other things I will text you,” you seem so satisfied with yourself, San is in love - and shambles, “If not, I’ll come here again and pretend I didn’t see anything. You can ask me on the date again if the note doesn’t work.”
That’s not the issue, the note isn’t asking you out, he wants to say, but you’re already turned away from him and walking out. He can’t speak, his tongue feels too heavy and his mind is blank. Slowly, he feels a smile stretching his lips against his will.
Maybe you like losers, he hopes.
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marvelstoriesepic · 18 days ago
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Angstober (day 17)
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Pairing: Endgame!Bucky x Reader
Prompt: “Shhh…”
Word Count: 3.4k
Warnings: allusions to deep depression; very slight mention of suicidal thoughts; mentions of an eating disorder (neglecting food due to mental health problems); sad!Reader; sad and desperate!Bucky
Author's note: I'm so late, so sorry!! Actually planned on ending this way more angsty but I just couldn’t. Hope you still like it!
Angstober Masterlist
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Not that you’re counting, but it has been 14 nights now. Two weeks. Nearly 340 hours since Bucky returned. He came back, along with everyone else who had vanished for five long years. But nothing else seemed nearly as significant as the feeling of seeing him again - the man you loved before the blip, during the blip, and thereafter.
Obviously, this was supposed to be a moment of pure, unadulterated joy. And it was for a moment. But you never felt the weight fall off you, that great release where all your problems just go away and nothing is left but love, relief, lightness - the kind of peace you can finally sink into.
But peace is far from what you feel.
You carry something in your gut; a stone lodged deep, heavy, and smooth to the touch but sharp on impact, that pushes your insides down and twists the knots in your belly into nausea. It’s guilt. So thick and visceral, it hurts, your body trying to reject it, to shake it, but you can’t breathe it away.
Because it’s also the 14th night of you leaving the warm and cozy embrace of two arms - one flesh, one metal - and the feeling of a chest pressed against your body just to sit out on the balcony, the exact same you spent ceaseless and lonely nights on when the world had emptied itself of Bucky Barnes.
Back when this place was only yours for the better part of the blip. With an old armchair placed to overlook the stars and form changing moon blinking at you from the blackness overhead. As if each of those tiny bright dots stood for something specific.
Bucky is asleep inside the bedroom, you’re supposed to be in right now. Wrapped safely in his arms, surrounded by the comfort of having him back. But the truth is, this comfort you should feel suffocates you.
You’re frozen. Stuck between two worlds. The one where you lost him, where you had to endure five long years without him, and the one where he returned as though no time had passed at all.
Five years living without him just for him to return to earth within the blink of an eye as if it was nothing. As if the time spent alone wasn’t agony in the worst sense of the word. As if your suffering didn’t even happen and everything just went back to normal in seconds.
You don’t know how to react. You don’t know how to be normal again. How can you just slip back into a love that feels like it was frozen in time for him but battered and painful for you?
It hasn’t been easy for anyone, you’re aware of that. Disappearing or not. Suddenly re-entering a world that had moved on without you, a world you never knew you even left, is a scary thought. But, honestly, it’s so much worse for Bucky. Your stomach, again, churns in pain.
Bucky has already lost so much of his life, trapped in decades he was never meant to live, a ghost haunting the wrong era. The world keeps slipping through his fingers, time moving around him while he’s frozen in place. Literally even. And now there goes another five years.
But you just can’t turn your head off. And you hate yourself for it.
The truth is, you’re not the same person you were when you met Bucky, started dating him - the one he fell in love with. A bright spirit, an effervescent soul, full of light, energy, softness, with a laugh that was infectious. That version of you is gone, taken by the same breeze that took Bucky years ago. What’s left was a hollow shell, lost in the grief of your greatest love story.
Time wore you down, erode pieces of you that you didn’t even realize were fading away until there was hardly anything left. Just bare bones of who you once were - a thin foundation, fragile, with crumbs already falling to your darkest depths, ready to be swept away for good.
How can you possibly go back to the person Bucky expects you to be? How can you pretend to be the version of yourself he fell in love with when it doesn’t exist anymore? When what’s left of her is irredeemable, too far gone to be resurrected?
You’re certain you’ll only end up disappointing him. If you haven’t already.
Fourteen nights you’ve been out here, on this balcony, sitting in that chair, wrapped in the dark, keeping yourself apart from him when you know you should be beside him. When all you ever wanted was to be beside him again.
Thirteen of those nights, Bucky has noticed your absence. The first night he found you out here, sitting in silence, you nearly snapped at him, frustration and confusion at the way you feel bubbling up so fiercely, you didn’t know how to contain it.
You told him to leave you alone. Insisted on it for so long until he finally, reluctantly relented, slowly retreating back inside with a tremble in his breath and clenched fingers. You knew he would respect your request. You also found out that he didn’t sleep a wink that night, since you didn’t come back to bed, wearing circles under his eyes that matched yours as he made you some breakfast in the morning you barely ended up stomaching.
Since then, you haven’t asked him to leave. Though you don’t really engage him in conversation either, only letting him linger. His presence is gentle, never pressing, always so patient, but it doesn’t make it easier. If only, it worsens the guilt, its fingers tightening around your chest, digging into your skin painfully. You don’t know how to let him back in, not when you’re still so tangled up in the person you’ve become - someone so worn-down, you don’t recognize yourself anymore, afraid to be confronted with the harrowing reality by looking in a mirror.
And every night, you wonder, silently asking the night sky, how much longer it’ll be before he realizes that the person he loves is someone he lost.
You’re waiting. Waiting for him to notice that this new version of you isn’t enough.
Every time, Bucky comes out to you, bringing you something - blankets, jackets, his hoodies, a cup of tea still steaming in his hands, or thick socks to warm your feet. He gets you all the things you never thought to grab in your rush to escape to the balcony, to get lost in the night air that bites into your skin but usually feels oddly comforting in its coldness. The chill always manages to give you a small sting of reality.
You never make the first move to wrap the blankets around yourself or pull any of the clothing items on, so Bucky usually does it for you. And he’s nothing but kind. Patient and soft in ways that almost hurt to witness. It’s in his eyes, in the way he watches you, never pushing too hard, never demanding more than you can give.
But his worry is etched into every corner of him like he is carrying it in his very bones. It’s heavy on his brows, weighing them down in a furrow that never seems to ease, lips pressed into a slight frown that tugs at the corners even when he tries to soothe it out.
It’s in the way his hands twitch, as if he’s fighting the urge to reach out and pull you close, but stops himself because he’s unsure if you want him to. He’s constantly walking that fine line, balancing between the space you seem to want and the need to be there, to comfort you, troubled with his own helplessness.
It’s in every considerate gesture, every thoughtful thing he does to make sure you’re okay, or at least giving you a sense of solace.
And yet, you can’t bring yourself to really talk to him. To explain what’s going on in your mind. To voice the fear that now lives there and which places it travels and where it settles down, lodging itself deep into your conscience, roots spreading and festering.
There’s no way to explain what drives you out here night after night, sitting in the darkness while your returned love waits for you inside.
It’s not that you don’t want to. God, you want to more than anything. But the words just won’t come, not making it past the lump in your throat. You’re trapped in a loop of thoughts; confusion, and guilt guiding them to twirl in your head like an indecipherable storm.
How do you even begin to explain that the person he’s so worried about isn’t really there anymore; that you’re afraid you’ve changed too much; that you’re not sure how to go back to the way things were, or if you even can? So while you remain silent, your mind races and your heart aches with the weight of everything you can’t say.
There are so many ghosts in his life and you don’t want to count yourself as another. But you don’t have it in you to do something about it.
As expected, the door to the balcony opens, quietly, slowly. It gets shorter, you notice. The time it takes him to realize you’re gone. As if he instinctively wakes up the second you leave his embrace. As if he barely has to stir to know you’re missing, to feel the cold, empty space where your warmth should be.
You wish he had given you just a little more time. Woke up just a little later. Nausea pools in your gut.
“Sweetheart.”
You pick up his whisper. You intended to ignore it, just as you had intended to ignore the quiet shuffle of his steps, the way he appeared in your peripherals like he always does. But the way his voice reflects so much of a fragility you can’t and don’t want to describe, your head lifts almost on autopilot, responding to him before your mind can even catch up.
He’s crouching down to your level in front of the chair you’re perched on, carefully lowering himself to your eye level. You hadn’t even acknowledged the bowl of pasta he brought until he set it down on the small table next to you, food you hadn’t even glanced at all day. As well as the blanket draped over his forearm he now deliberately wraps you up in. His hands linger on your arms longer than needed until he almost reluctantly pulls away.
He doesn’t take his eyes off you. Not for a second. Gaze so intense and solid, it undoes you. They’re filled with everything you try to run from, everything you try to bury deep inside yourself, everything you try to hide from.
You avert your eyes at the new wave of pain that tears right through your chest, intended to knock you off that chair, perhaps even off that balcony. Your silence is wearing on him and you know. You know that his brows are creased in worry, that his hands are trembling as they grab onto his knees to prevent himself from reaching out to you because he thinks that’s not what you want. That his touch is unwanted. His lips are pressed together as if holding back the flood of words he’s too afraid to say out loud.
Still, you don’t open your mouth. You don’t move closer to him to feel some of his warmth. You don’t look at him. All you do is let him down, night after night, as he watches you drift further away.
From yourself.
From him.
“Please eat something, love.”
His pleading voice again reaches you with the force of a knife, thrown straight to your heart, tearing through the blanket, your thin clothes, your skin, to embed itself into the organ that once held something so precious. A love so fierce, not only for the man in front of you but for the woman he fell for. For the woman that’s now lost in a body filled with coldness.
“Not hungry.” The words fall flat from your lips, monotone, your voice as hollow as you feel inside. There’s no weight behind them, no energy. They’re the same words you’ve been giving him all day, all week - really, for two weeks straight.
Actually, you haven’t been hungry in what feels like forever. The idea of eating, of caring for your body, feels so distant, so unimportant, perhaps even ludicrous, that you’ve stopped thinking about it entirely. Your stomach knots itself in protest but the thought of offering sustenance to your weary body pales in significance amidst whatever storm is brewing inside your mind.
Bucky never relents. Never gives up. Never stops trying.
But it’s heavy on him.
The pained sigh that ripples through his body, drags his shoulders down, his entire frame. His desperation is so evident, it’s standing out like a light that wants the attention of the darkness around you. His pain almost echoes like a sound, ringing in your ears.
He bows his head, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment.
Another stab. Another twist of the knife, that never really leaves your body anymore. It’s always sharp. Always intense. Always piercing. Because it never ceases to hurt when Bucky is in pain.
And he’s in pain because of you.
It’s always because of you.
His despair now is an extension of the love that triumphed against odds, yet now feels so misplaced, so undeserving in the wreckage that was left behind.
Every line of his body screams misery and it’s so unlike Bucky to carry it so openly. He’s not able to stop his hands from shaking, even though he’s clenching them into fists that leave his skin white. He’s not able to ease the tension in his jaw, the way his breath catches as though he’s holding back more words, more pleas, more desperation.
You know it’s your fault. You know this is a love he still holds for a person that doesn’t deserve it anymore. He holds on so tight. So fierce. And that’s what hurts the most.
A new sensation wells up, one you had consciously buried for the past 14 nights. One you hadn’t let yourself feel every time you got lost out here. It grips your throat, wraps itself around it, and squeezes, cutting off the flow of air. It’s choking you, as if in triumph, confronting the tidal surges of emotion you’ve been holding back for so long. It stings behind your eyes, making them swell and burn as tears form faster than you can stop them.
The sob that forms in your belly takes shape in a revolting way and you can’t grasp it properly.
So, when it finally escapes, it’s heart-wrenching. The sound rips from your chest violently and guttural, tearing through your lips before you can do anything to keep it inside. Your hand flies to your mouth, desperate to stifle it, but it’s useless.
Bucky’s head snaps up with so much vigor, and he stumbles in his rush to reach you, arms shooting up, eyes wide with alarm. His hands move toward you without hesitation, disregarding the fragile boundaries you had set, the cautious distance he believed you’d wanted.
You’re shaking, shoulders trembling with the power of the cries that rack through your body and he pulls you against him.
He cradles your head against his chest, his other arm pulling you closer, closer, closer. His grip is so full of anguish, holding onto you like his very life depends on it, his warmth fighting against the chill that’s been living inside you for such a long time.
Your sobs come harder, sounds muffled by the fabric of his hoodie. Bucky tries to hold you tighter, letting you crumble against him.
Minutes stretch out and your cries don’t let up. Each breath you take is painful, rough, and with every shudder that convulses your body, Bucky grasps you firmer.
“Shhh… it’s okay, baby, I got you.” His voice sounds so soft but frail, hoarse with the effort of keeping himself composed. He keeps whispering, though his words tremble on his lips as if he’s battling the same ache that’s threatening to break him apart all the same. His face is buried in the crook of your neck, and you can feel his breath against your skin, shaky and uneven, trying so hard to be the anchor you need.
“Shhh…” he breathes again, but there are tears in his tone. He’s holding on so solidly, gripping you as if letting go would mean losing you entirely.
“I’m sorry,” you cry, the words tumbling out over and over because it’s all your scrambled mind manages. It’s the only thing that feels true in the mess of your awareness. The silence, the distance, the weight you’ve placed on him, on his shoulders, which should be free from burden after the hell he’s been through. He’s only just come back from five years of being lost to the world, and now you’re drowning him in your own grief. And that makes your tears come without control, the guilt crushing.
“I’m so sorry,” you sob again, the only thing you can offer. An apology isn’t enough but it’s all you have. Because you don’t know if you’re supposed to hold onto the hope that maybe, one day, he’ll forgive you for being too much, for not being who he needs anymore.
Bucky shakes his head against yours, strong, fast; his breath broken. “No,” he breathes, rough and thick. “No, baby, don’t apologize. There’s nothing to apologize for.”
Squeezing your eyes shut, you try to drown out his voice. He’s too nice. Too sweet. Too forgiving. Too patient. Too Bucky.
Shaking your head, you grip onto him. “You should leave me.” It’s louder than anything you’ve said the whole night. It’s more resolute. It sounds more like you, but it still doesn’t seem to come from you. Because never in seven years did you believe those words would ever make it past your lips. Would ever even be formed in your mind.
Bucky pulls back. Not harshly, but urgently, in a panic, determined. His hands cradle your face and he only moves his head away a little to get a better look at you. His eyes, wet and glassy, lock onto yours, filled with pain so stabbing it matches your own. But there is a resolution in his eyes, a firmness in the small glimmer of blue.
He shakes his head as if something is breaking in him.
“Don’t say that. Don’t ever say that,” he whispers, his thumb brushing away the tears on your cheeks that keep rolling down even as his own spill over. His touch is so gentle, so tender, so loving and you feel the guilt that settled deep inside you in a war with the longing you had felt for so long. The longing to feel his touch in a way that always knocked the breath straight out of your lungs. The longing to have his eyes sear right through you as if you’re the only thing in the world that holds worth.
“This isn’t your fault,” he continues. “None of this is your fault, Y/n! Alright? Nothing you could do would make me leave you. Hear me when I say this, my love. Hear me when I say that I'm here. And I'll stay.”
A sad, wobbly smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “There’s no getting rid of me, sweetheart. Nothing you could do would ever scare me away.”
Something cracks open inside you. His words, his touch, his gaze, everything is so full of love. And even if it’s just a little, the compressing weight of guilt loosens. It will take many more nights for it to completely leave you but Bucky will walk this road with you. You’re sure; because in his eyes, the way he holds you against him, you finally see that he’s not asking for the person you used to be. He’s asking for you, as you are, as you’ve become, broken pieces and all.
He’s still loving you with a depth your guilt could never reach.
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dontexpectmuch · 5 months ago
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next to you - chris brown ft. justin bieber.
you will always stay by his side, even when one day the sky comes falling down.
***
you two have always dreamed of this moment, picturing any possible scenario of this exact outcome.
jude always told you how far away this dream of his seemed, how winning the champions league is not something everyone can witness. he told you many times that it was one of his biggest dreams ever since he was just a little boy. smiling at you as you laid in his arms, jude promised you to win it one day, not only for himself, but also for you, the one thatt always stayed by his side and helped him get through the toughest times during his career.
i pray to god everyday, that you keep that smile.
those times now feel like a distant dream, a memory that you cherish to visit whenever you think of jude and your past relationship. everything was perfect, the two of you fit together like nothing else.
but you were also young, naīve and insecure. being together with one of the best youngsters, who also happened to be quite handsome came with many difficulties that you did not know about before. jude always tried to remind you of how you were the only one for him, his dream person and the one he would go any length for.
you are my dream, there’s not a thing i won’t do, i’ll give my life up for you. ‘cause you are my dream.
even though you were mentally prepared, the break up still hurt like hell. it was a mutual decision, jude no longer wanted to keep you hurting with all the attention he got due to bis rising popularity. and you could no longer handle all the mean comments made about you inline day by day. silent tears and desperation between your words filled the air as you got up to pack your things you had brought for the weekend. his parents and brother were gone and you wanted to spend some alone time together before he got busy again.
the tension was thick, no one dares to say anything, unsure of what to do next. your heart was beating so loud that your ears started to hurt, you felt hot and cold and your hands were shaking as you put the last piece inside your bag. shouldering it you moved to the front door, looking back one last time before leaving your now ex boyfriend, probably for ever.
jude sat down on the couch in the living room, blankly staring at the floor. he promised you to stay next to you no matter what, and now he feels angry at himself for not keeping this promise. his heart feels like it is being poked by a dagger over and over again. yet it would not pierce through, not granting him any kind of relief from this immense feeling of pain and loss.
i’ll be there when you’re insecure, let you know that you’re always lovely, ‘cause you are the only thing that i got right now.
now it has been a year since the last time he got to hold you, bury his nose in your hair and close his eyes in the comfort of his own bed.
it has been a year full of ups and downs, important decisions and big changes. he finally made his dream come true by signing for real madrid. he played one of his best, if not the best, season of his life and met incredible people and players who helped him improve a lot.
the best part of this year definitely is hearing the final whistle of the match, signaling that he indeed won his very first champions league match against his former club. the cheers around him, from both the fans and his teammates filled his ears as he fell down to his knees, his heart racing against his chest. tears sting his eyes as he slowly realized what actually just had happened. he fulfilled one of his biggest childhood dreams. not only that, but he also was able to do this while his parents and brother were watching him.
you were also there, he knew.
of course you were, you promised him that you would be there for him if he was ever reaching the final. you texted him first, congratulating him when he won the semi-final.
one day, when the sky is fallin’, i’ll be standing right next to you, right next to you.
he offered you tickets to watch him play, alongside his family like the old times. you wanted to decline, though jude was very stubborn and even told his mother to tell you that you have to accept his offer, which you then did after denise talked to you.
your eyes were following him as he walks towards were you and his family were standing, gold medal adoring his neck, his smile reaching his ears and eyes shining bright. you feel yourself smiling as well, happy for him as if you had one the league yourself.
his family let you know that they are going down to meet him, asking if you wanted to tag along, which you politely declined. you didn’t want to be seen next to him, if you were honest. the past comments about you back then still haunted you at times. you were happy with just watching him enjoy his time, past feelings for him resurfacing.
your eyes meet, he just stands there, his arms hanging by his side as he look at you intensely. you mirrored his gaze, taking in his muscular body. he was still the same jude that you fell for all those years ago, just more mature and handsome. he was still the same jude you dreamed of the past year, the one whose pictures you looked at when you deeply missed his presence in your day.
his gaze softened, and he took a step forward, as if wanting to get closer to you.
nothing will ever come between us, ‘cause i’ll be standing right next to you, right next to you.
he came to a halt when jobe jumped on him, arms around his neck and shoulders as he congratulated his elder brother. judes gaze went to him, his smile widening even more if that was possible as he returned his brothers hug. his parents also hugged him, the family shared their happiness together on the field.
you smiled at that sight, remembering the times when you were part of their group hugs.
seeing him win was all you wanted, and now that you did, you decide it is finally time for you to leave. you had a long way back home and wanted to go to bed as soon as possible. so, without any further delay, you turn around and leave the stadium, carefully trying not to bump into any cheering fans.
and with your back turned away at the field, you do not see judes desperate eyes following your body, wishing that you were also here to celebrate with him.
i’ll be there, i’ll be there.
——————————————————————
happy for jude! so a cute drabble for you! comments are appreciated 🥹
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gyutopia · 9 months ago
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dried flowers | park jongseong
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ꕤ DESCRIPTION:  it’s always been jay, even all those years ago when you were fresh out of a relationship with your first love hueningkai. it was jay who was always there, the man who helped you find yourself again and showed you your worth, the man you could clearly picture a future with, the father of your twins. so why are you now having doubts about your marriage? it’s always been jay...hasn’t it?
ꕤ GENRE: fluff, nsfw, angst….
ꕤ WORD COUNT: 13.3k
⟶ WARNINGS: mean dom!jay, sub!reader, oral (f receiving), p in v intercourse, no protection, degradation, possessiveness, jealousy,, jay gets his heart broken, the park family is in shambles, mentions of cheating, slut shaming, knets hate u lol, mentions of depression and therapy.
❥ 𝑎/n: she’s been in the drafts for a while, decided to post while i work on my jake fic!
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12:39am
There was a time in your life when you felt free and the world was full of possibilities...and him, especially him. You love your husband, you always have and you always will but a part of you can’t help but wonder if your life would be different had you given your first love a second chance. The circumstances surrounding your relationship with Hueningkai were far from ideal, an overly busy boyfriend who could never seem to make time for you and a short stay for your study abroad program. The odds really were never in your favor.
It also didn’t help that the two of you had completely different ideals and aspirations. You wanted to settle down at some point and have kids, you wanted the big wedding and the house at the end of the cul de sac but Kai wanted you and his music, nothing more. He didn’t believe in marriage, claiming he didn’t need a piece of paper to show you just how much he loved you.
He also wasn’t big on kids, coming from a somewhat big family himself and seeing how his parents marriage didn’t last and the pain he and his sisters endured when the divorce was finalized, he came to the conclusion he wouldn’t ever want to put someone he loves through that and swore off kids for good. His focus was his music career before anything else and he expected you to simply adjust to his hectic life and be content with being kept in the shadows. Your relationship really took a turn for the worst when he brought you to a party his label mates were throwing, everything went to shit that night.
The party resulted in a broken relationship, bloody nose and bruised knuckles and you pulling out of the SNU study abroad program the following week and returning back home to the states.
You don't even know what you’re doing thinking about Kai, it’s been years and you’re content with the life you lead now. You’re married to an amazing man who shows you each and every day just how much he loves you and the children you have together. Jay has never given you any reason to not trust him or even doubt him. So why are you now?
Jay is the kind of guy who actually enjoys dinners with your mess of a family, he stands on the train no matter how many seats are empty and somehow manages to be the most handsome yet humble man in any room. He’s your all time favorite person and you want to live a hundred years and die at the exact same moment so your souls can find each other on the other side as soon as possible and fall in love all over again.
So maybe you don’t regret picking Jay, you’re glad you did. Really, but you just can’t help but think: what if it had been Kai?
Would you be as happy as you are now? Would you have kids? Would you still be his dirty little secret or would he have told the press about you eventually?
You sigh in frustration and rub at your forehead. “It’s too early for this,” you mumble to yourself before standing from your bed and exiting the room.
You slide on your bedroom slippers and slip out of the master bedroom to head downstairs. You stop by the twins room and open the door just a bit to make sure they’re still sleeping. You smile softly when you find them passed out in their respective beds.
You shut the door and continue to pad down the hall and stairs into your kitchen to grab a mug and tequila. You pour yourself a cup and head into the backyard to sit on the hammock chair Jay had set up a month prior to you giving birth to the twins.
You place the tequila bottle by your feet and cradle your mug to your chest as you overlook your backyard. It’s a mess, there are toys scattered about and the play set Jay had installed with the help of his members sits proud and tall right smack dab in the middle of the mess.
You lean your head against the wood of the hammock and pull your phone out of the pocket of your robe. You can feel your eyes water as you scroll through your contact list searching for one specific person. Yujin.
The phone rings for a few seconds before she picks up.
“Hello?”
You let out a shaky laugh, “oh. Hi, you’re still up?”
She laughs. “Do you know who you’re talking to? My sleep schedule doesn’t exist. But I will say I’m surprised that you haven’t passed out yet. You know, being the mother of one year old twins can be very tiring.” You hear some commotion in the background before you hear the gentle shut of a door. “Why are you still up?”
You bite down on your bottom lip and play with the rim on your mug. “I can’t sleep.”
She hums, “hey, has Jay ever choked you? Because if he hasn’t he really should.”
You let out a scandalized gasp, “oh my gosh! You were with heeseung weren't you?”
She giggles and sighs into the phone, “he might have spent the night.”
You kick your feet and allow the hammock to swing, “oh wow. Was it that good?”
She hums eagerly, “yes it was. Maybe we should get married? Then he could do it for the rest of our lives.”
You nearly choke on the sip of tequila at her words. “I love that it takes asphyxiation to get you to settle down.”
She laughs as well, “please, you’re acting as if you didn’t marry Jay because of his, your words not mine, ‘monster cock’,”
You shrug your robe off and place the mug down, finally getting comfortable. “I don’t recall.”
She snorts, “of course you don’t. But moving on, are you going to tell me what’s really going on?”
You clear your throat and stare off into the distance. “I’ve been doing some...thinking..?”
You trail off as you try and think of how to phrase your next sentence. “A lot of thinking actually. About...him.”
Yujin hums in amusement, “ouu, who?”
You sigh and place your head in your hands. “Come on Yujin, you know who.”
Silence follows after your statement and you hang your head in shame.
“Are you kidding me?” Yujin takes a seat at her dining table and reprimands you. “Do not fuck up your gorgeous family.”
You shake your head adamantly, “I’m not.”
“You better not! Jay is such a good guy, _____!”
You sigh, “I know that!”
Yujin scoffs, “then appreciate it for a second, how lucky you are to have found him. Do you know how many millions of women would kill for what you have with him?”
“Look, I know that. B-but I just can’t stop thinking about how different things used to be!”
Yujin lets out a confused hum, “with Kai?”
“No...with me. I was different...I- I don’t know what happened.”
Yujin sighs, “you said yes, moved to the suburbs and had kids. This is what you wanted, _____. It was your choice.”
You groan in frustration. “I know that, Yujin! But I just, I-I need to feel it again!”
“Feel what?”
“Some small piece of that interconnected love rush you know? It was just-- it was such a high!”
“_____...I get it, Kai was out of this world for you but that kind of love is a fickle bitch. It hurts, it betrays and is ultimately unsustainable but what you have with Jay will go the distance. He really is the one for you.”
You close your eyes and lean back in the hammock. “I know.” You softly say, “I know it with everything in me.”
Yujin nods, forgetting that you can’t see her. “So what are you gonna do?”
You open your eyes when you hear Jay’s car pull up in the driveway. “I don’t know.” You properly sit up and collect your mug and tequila off the floor, “I have to go. Jay’s home.”
You don’t give her a chance to respond before hanging up and entering the kitchen through the back just as Jay walks in through the foyer. You dump the remaining liquor and place the bottle back in your drink cabinet.
“Hi, my love.” You feel Jay wrap his arms around your waist from behind and place a kiss on your collarbone. “Why are you still up?”
You finish washing up the mug and place it on the drying rack. “My mind won’t shut off.” you turn in his arms and wrap your own around his waist. He smiles at you and leans down to place his lips on yours for a quick peck but you pull him back in for a longer more meaningful kiss.
Loosely, his hand moves to grip your neck, as you lift your chin higher - so you can press your lips harder into his - while your hands fist into his shirt. His free hand drops to wind around your waist, and in one swift movement, he pulls your body flush against his. Gasping at the motion, Jay uses the opportunity to slip his tongue between your teeth, your lips parting further in response. Indolently, his soft appendage swipes across yours, curling around your tongue and gently massaging it.
Electrified by his kiss, you moan into his mouth, your chin lifting higher as you press your lips harder against his. Mouths moving in tandem, you lose yourself into the intoxicating feel of his lips against yours. The soft petals of his mouth are soft, and as pillowy as you remember; albeit a little chapped, but you don’t mind so much. No - because the slight abrasion only adds to the feel of your kiss.
When you feel his tongue flick against yours, your hands uncurl from his shirt - only to wind up his chest, along his throat, towards the nape of his neck. Further and further, you sink into Jay: his body pressed flat against yours, his saccharine taste coating your tastebuds, and his warm breath wafting over your face. You can’t help but find yourself drowning into him - his entire presence encasing your senses as you lose yourself deep into his entire being.
Both of you lose track of time, your tongues gliding and sliding against each other, both of you consumed wholly by the other. Lost in your own selves, you feel nothing but each other - want to feel nothing but each other - and soon, the rest of the world fades into the background. There’s a soft ache in your lungs - your chest aching from the lack of oxygen, but you don’t care. No - right now, breathing is the last thing on your mind. In fact, the only thing you can think of is Jay, and the intoxicating sensation of his tongue against yours.
Nonetheless, eventually, your lungs begin to burn - the lack of oxygen searing through your chest. When the sweltering ache grows too much to be ignored, the two of you pull away - breathing harshly against each other. Your eyes stay closed as you gasp for air, both your breaths mingling together and circulating the air. Your lips are slightly swollen, and as you flick out your tongue to soothe them, you can’t help but whimper at the aftertaste of his essence on your mouth: the flavor only deepened by his breath fanning your face.
With your eyes closed, you still feel him linger around you - his calming presence washing over you and soothing your earlier hurt. Swallowing thickly, the two of you gradually open your eyes - coming face to face with each other. You’re still only a hair's breadth away, his mouth ghosting against yours in tender brushes. Gaze meeting his, you search his eyes for something - anything - even just an inkling of the emotions you feel for him. And as usual, Jay doesn’t disappoint.
He smiles gently at you, the soft tip of his nose brushing yours as he repetitively presses affectionate kisses to your lips. “Not that I’m complaining but, what was that for?”
You place your head against his chest and lowly whisper into the night, “I love you.”
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You wake up with a headache and the muffled sound of voices echoing from your living room all the way to the master bedroom. Groggily, you push yourself up off the bed and stare at the empty space beside you, realizing one of the voices belongs to Jay.
You vaguely remember him coming home last night after his meeting with his producer, your moment on the kitchen counter. How he carried you back upstairs and tucked you into bed beside him.
You hoist yourself off the bed and throw on the silk robe you had in the bathroom as you begin your morning routine of brushing your teeth and taking a shower. Trudging along the hallway to the living room after freshening up, you stumble upon a woman rounding the corner and walking up to you.
You think your eyes are deceiving you when you finally recognize who the jet black hair pulled up high into a sleek ponytail belongs to. “Oh sweetheart! You’re awake! Good morning.”
It’s Jay’s mother.
She pulls you into a hug and you blush. “I-I didn’t know you were visiting today.” You return the hug, “If I knew, I wouldn’t have—“
“Don’t be silly! We’re all allowed to drink once in a while!” Her eyes sparkle with her words, making you smile. She’s always been fond of her and was quite vocal about it. “Let’s get you some coffee, okay?'' Jay's mom leads you down the hallway, past the living room where you see Jay and his father engaging in what seems to be a serious conversation, and into the open kitchen where she ushers you to sit down. “The twins haven’t woken up yet, I was about to get started on their breakfast” She informs you when she catches you looking around. You hum and stir your still hot coffee.
Before you get to take a sip of the morning brew, you feel someone kiss your temple.
“Good morning, baby.” Jay whispers, placing his phone by your coffee mug, “Are you okay? Do you need aspirin?”
“I’m fine.” you sigh, stretching your neck to kiss his cheek before he straightens his back. His mother sets down another plate, filled with eggs and bacon, before ushering the men to sit.
“Let's eat!”
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Brunch goes by fast, small talk about your father in-laws' business is shared and pictures of your kids go around the table before goodbyes are bid with promises of lunch sometime soon. Retreating back into your home, Jay takes a seat on the couch and massages his temples with two fingers.
“Jay?” You worriedly ask, sitting beside him and placing your hand on his knee. There’s something unsettling about how it takes him a second to reply, staring at the glass coffee table with a stoic expression. You begin to retract your hand until he sighs and grabs it gently
He closes his eyes and smacks his lips together, “This morning… your previous relationship was broadcasted all over the news. I don’t know how they got the information but I’m doing everything I can to take it down.”
“Oh.” You blink, unsure of what to say or how to react. If anything, the headache you woke up with starts acting up again as you try to process what your husband had just said. The world knows about Kai. Even more, the world knows about your past relationship with him. You can only wonder how the media is painting you.
You think it’s something along the lines of a gold digger. First you get swept up in a whirlwind romance with an international superstar just to break things off and marry the son of one of South Korea’s biggest chaebols who just so happened to not only be friends with your ex but work with him as well. There’s definitely no saving your image now.
“I’m sorry.”
He frowns at your apology, tilting his head to the side. “What for?”
“About this mess, I’m sorry this is interfering with your image.”
“You did nothing wrong, love. I just hate how even after all these years Kai is still associated with you. It’s almost like you won’t be able to ever fully leave him in your past where he belongs.”
You want to reassure him that while yes, Hueningkai played a major role in your life, he’s the past. You want to tell him that it doesn’t matter because he’ll stay in your past but you can’t bring yourself to lie to your husband.
The truth is you don’t know where Hueningkai stands in your life at the moment and as sick and twisted as it sounds, if he were to show up at your doorstep right at this moment….you don’t know what you would do.
Jay turns to face you. “I don’t want you to think I don’t trust you, _____. That isn’t it, I swear. I just...I guess I just need the reassurance that Kai isn’t coming back. I’m secure with our relationship and I just want to know what you’re thinking, please don’t shut me out.”
You open your mouth to respond but nothing comes out, “u-uh...I-'' You're soon cut off by the wails of your twins over the baby monitor. You close your eyes and thank God for the distraction. “-I should probably go get them ready for their day and feed them. They have a playdate with Chaeyoung’s kids''
You abruptly stand and turn in the direction of the nursery. “You should get dressed for work, I’ll stop by the studio with lunch later for you and the guys.” You hesitate before turning back around to place a quick kiss on his lips. “I love you.”
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After dropping off the twins and making a quick trip to the grocery store, you’re talking to Yujin over the phone about her taking her relationship with Heeseung to the next level when your phone chimes with a message from a number you should have blocked and deleted a long time ago. It’s Kai.
You block out Yujin’s words about her current issues and shakily reach for the device, scared to read the contents of his unprompted message.
2:33pm [hueningkai]: i’m sure you’ve seen the articles by now and i really am sorry if it put you in a difficult position with jay. i know you told me to delete your number and never reach out again but i don’t want you to hate me anymore than you already do _____.
2:33pm [hueningkai]: i’m not the one who sold the story to the press, i don’t know how it got out and i’m working really hard to get them taken down so please be patient and wait for me a little longer.
2:35pm [hueningkai]: i’ll make things right.
“I don’t want you to hate me anymore than you already do.” Your ears ring and your breath hitches as the phase catapults you into the past.
“_____.” he called in a breath.
He felt the panic rising. He wasn’t ready to confront you. From what Yeonjun had told him, you weren't doing great when you left the party last night. He told him how you had cried your eyes out on your way back home. Hueningkai had never seen you cry - apart from that time the two of you watched All The Bright Places together - you were always so cheery all the time, always in a good mood. In the past months you’ve been together you’ve never had a fight - you bickered continuously, yes, but never fought. You were always in sync, as if you could read each other’s minds. Hueningkai never felt such a connection with anybody else. 
You were still looking at him. you looked at him and you saw the beautiful man you fell in love with tremble with fear. He was afraid of you. And in some way, you were scared of him too. you were scared of who he was, who he really was - because last night you had come to one conclusion: you don’t know Hueningkai. You thought you did, you thought you had learned enough of him in these past months, but you were wrong. He wasn’t the great, responsible and loving person you thought he was - because the man you thought you knew wasn’t capable of breaking your trust.
If there was something you were sure about it’s your worth. Your pride and tenacity were the qualities that allowed you to be where you were. You're intelligent, independent and determined. You had your moments, but you were strong, and you knew it. You knew that you didn’t do anything wrong to deserve his deception. You had cried your tears and felt the pain, but no more. 
“I just want to know why.” you said, your voice a little bit too shaky for your liking.
Hueningkai closed his eyes hard, his head pounding. “_____ …”
“how long?” you pressed on.
The boy shook his head and took another shaky breath. He stood up and walked to her desk, trying to get some space between the two of them. He couldn’t think clearly. 
Your eyes followed him without wavering. “You’re not going anywhere until you speak.”
Hueningkai was biting hard on his lower lip in the hope to cover up the pang in his chest. He didn’t want this. He cared about her. He loved her. But he knew, deep inside, that there was no going back from what he had done. There was no turning back from this terrible mistake.
“I ended things with her.” was all he could say.
“You clearly haven’t.” you responded in almost a clinical manner. “How long?” you repeated. “How long were you seeing her behind my back?”
The boy shook his head again, letting himself fall on the chair. “I wasn’t.”
The girl sighed, slowly getting angrier and impatient. “I saw you kiss each other yesterday. Please, be honest.”
“I-” he mumbled, struggling to find the words. “It wasn’t what it looked like.”
You couldn’t help but smirk. “Very cliché of you to say.”
“It really wasn't,” Hueningkai exclaimed, finding the courage to look at you before cowering back, seeing the disdain on your face. “It- It was after your first day back to classes after winter break.” he finally admitted.
You furrowed your brows, going back with your memories. “The day I learned I failed my bio final?”
He looked up to the ceiling, wishing he could turn back time. “Yes.”
You thought back to that day, the same day you noticed Yeji for the first time. They hugged, you remembered that day too. You didn’t think anything of it when it happened. It didn’t seem important to you. 
Were you too naive?
“Did you have sex with her?”
He shook his head. “I...I don’t remember, I was drunk.”
“You were drunk.” you repeated. “Does it sound stupid only to me?”
“No.” he gulped. “It was stupid.”
You suddenly came to a realization. “The day after my math final,” you remembered. “You weren’t yourself …”
“You told me you fought with Bahiyyih.” You murmured in recognition.
“I didn’t.” Hueningkai responded, fingers through his hair. He wanted this torture to end.
You were feeling slightly nauseous. You were worried about him that morning, but he was fine only hours later. He had laughed with you during your lunch break. “And you decided it wasn’t worth … it wasn’t important enough?” you asked, your anger rising.
“I didn’t want to ruin anything!” the boy exclaimed in fervor, looking back at her again. “You still had three more finals to take and I didn't want t-”
“So you went on with it.” you interrupted. “As if nothing had happened.”
“I didn’t want to-”
To what?” you raised your voice. “To what Hueningkai? To lose me?” you laughed a cold laugh that made the boy quiver. “That’s bullshit and you know it. And then what? You continued seeing her? Those weeks we couldn’t see each other because of your schedule, you were with her, weren’t you?” you accused him in one breath, thinking about how distant he had been. 
Hueningkai was petrified. He was unable to speak against your claims, he wanted to but his throat was constricted. He could feel you slipping away by the minute and he was unable to stop you. He was losing something important, and it was all his fault.
Your breath had turned labored with the realization of how foolish you had been. Four months of lies. You couldn’t believe you fell for all of it, that you fell for him. 
What was it _____? Was it his looks? Was it his personality? What about him rendered you so stupid?
Hueningkai couldn’t stop looking at you now. You were sitting on the edge of your bed with your head down and your hands on your knees, your knuckles taught. He wished he could avert his gaze again but something inside him wanted to masochistically remember this moment. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest and his own hands trembling inside the pocket of his jeans, where he had hidden them. If he didn’t know himself better, he could swear his eyes were starting to sting. What happened to him? 
You finally take a trembling breath, as if you were trying to compose yourself and not cry. You looked him in the eyes with all the courage you could gather and finally spoke the words he had been secretly preparing himself to hear. “I never thought I could hate someone as much as I hate you. I hate you, Hueningkai. With all my heart.”
“_____? Are you even listening to me?”
You shake your head as the memory comes to pass, trying to get your head out of the daze. “Y-yeah, sorry. Chaeyoung sent me a video of the twins but I promise you have my complete undivided attention.” You lie. Why did you feel the need to hide this from your best friend?
“Oh, it’s okay. I have to go anyway, gotta wrap up my thesis.”
You bid her goodbye and wish her luck with her thesis for her PhD program before hanging up. You stand in silence in the middle of your kitchen as your mind cooks up every reason why texting Hueningkai back is wrong and downright disrespectful to Jay but a part of you itches to see what would happen if you did. Would the part of you you feel is missing come back?
2:40pm to: [hueningkai]: i believe you.
You quickly exit the messages app and shut off your phone to finish packing the boys lunches. You individually wipe down each lunch box and place them neatly in the large lunch bag you had found at Costco a while back. You make sure to pack a few snacks and a sealed platter of fruits for them as well.
You’re back in the car with a few minutes to spare from the time frame you gave yourself, the members warmed up tteokbokki perched on the passenger seat as you pull out of the driveway to your destination. You’re there in no time; there wasn’t much traffic around 4PM.
You park the Mercades in the assigned spot for workers and their family members. You make sure to grab your purse and lunch bag before you enter the elevator to head to the main floor. You greet the security guard; who had remembered you from your previous visits, greeting you as ‘Mrs. Park.’
Bashfully, you bow to him as he lets you pass and make your way to the elevator and ride up to the 10th floor.
Jaebeom, the group's manager, recognizes you the second you step out of the lift and stands up from his seat, “_____! Perfect timing! The boys just wrapped up their dance practice.”
“amazing!.” You beam as you follow him down a corridor. Some employees look up from their work to glance at you; recognition in their eyes.
Enhypen’s practice room is such a large space with multiple glass windows allowing you to see all over. He’s sat on the floor beside Jake, fingers supporting his forehead as he reads something off a piece of paper.
Jaebeom knocks on the open door and pokes his head in, “boys, you have a visitor.”
You watch as their heads snap up simultaneously to see who has stopped by.
Jay puts whatever he was reading down and stands up, “_____? What are you doing here?”
Jaebeom quietly excuses himself and you whisper words of gratitude as he leaves before stepping further into the dance room.
“I promised to drop off lunch,”holding up the lunchbox you made for them. “I can’t have my husband and dear friends starving.”
The boys all cheer and abandon their previous work to come crowd you by the door. Sunoo takes the heavy lunch bag off your shoulder and happily skips to the middle of the practice room with the members following behind. Jay walks up to you, kissing your forehead, “You really didn’t have to. We could have ordered-”
“But you weren’t, were you?” You scowl, “Come on, let’s fill that belly up.”
He leans forward to whisper in your ear, “I’d rather eat you.”
You gasp, instinctively reaching your hand out to hit his shoulder, but he catches it instead and interlocks your fingers together. “Stay and eat with us?”
Your heart melts at the gesture and you inwardly chastise yourself for even ever thinking about someone else when you have a husband as caring and loving as Jay.
You shake your head gently, “I already ate, plus I have to go pick up the twins soon.” You stand on your tiptoes to place a chaste kiss on his lips, “you should go join the boys before they eat your half as well. I’ll see you at home?”
He whines and leans in for one more kiss, “at least let me walk you to the car?”
You shake your head firmly this time. “I can walk myself to the car, Jay. Go enjoy your lunch, I’m sure your body’s dying for some nutrients. I’ll call you as soon as I get back home.”
You kiss him goodbye and say your farewells to the members before exiting the large dance room. You walk down the corridor not paying attention to your surroundings, you’re in your own little world thinking about how your life has seemed to turn to shit overnight when you hear the faint calling of your name.
Your eyes wander about until they fall onto a lone male standing in front of the lift. Blinking at him, you couldn’t believe your eyes when his profile registers in your head.
Your lips have parted in a mixture of dread and astonishment. You haven’t seen him in almost a decade since you left and returned to Korea. All at once, the memories you’ve shared together come flooding back and you don’t notice you’re staring at him; not even when your phone starts buzzing in your hands.
Your eyes meet and in those few seconds you’re able to see that he’s out of his awkward puberty stage; that he’s finally matured into a man his label had been shaping him up to be. He wasn’t scrawny like before, but he wasn’t ‘soft-looking’ either; he looked lean and in good shape. The faintest shadow under his eyes tells you that touring and practicing must have been shit to him but he was still handsome as ever.
“_____?” The way he says your name hits you with nostalgia. He’s still soft-spoken, but you can’t really imagine him having such a stern voice.
Finally coming to your senses, you take a deep breath and fake a chuckle. “Kai,” You gulp, “Hey.”
“It’s been so long! Wow, you look great.”
It takes a second for his compliment to register in your head as you’re still in shock at seeing him again. “Y-yeah, you too. H-how are you?”
“I’m good, the group’s doing well so not much to complain about.” his eyes shift a bit as he clears his throat. “Congratulations, by the way. I saw on the news, and overheard the other members talking… about your wedding and twins.”
Instinctively, you look down at your hand; to your wedding band. “Ah, yeah. Thanks.”
“I’m glad you’re happy, _____.”
Not knowing what to reply, you nod your head, “Uhm, so what about you?”
He lets out a sad chuckle, “No luck. Touring the world doesn’t really give me that much time to socialize. I’m always on the go.”
“Not even groupies?”
“I guess I'm just not interested in them.” Kai shrugs with a half smile on his face, displaying how chiseled his face was. “Still caught up on an ex.”
You shiver at his words, “still caught up on an ex.” were you by any chance said ex? You slightly shake your head. It shouldn’t matter if it’s you. You’re married and a mother, you can’t betray your husband like that and put your family at risk. Whatever lingering feelings you’re holding on to need to be dealt with and put aside. Kai isn’t someone worth losing your family over.
Before you can reply, suddenly, someone steps beside you, pressing a kiss on your temple and wraps their arms around your waist tightly, making your blood run cold. Looking up, Jay smiles sweetly at you but gives the complete opposite glance at Kai. “You dropped your wallet, love.”
You clear your throat and nod, “thank you.” You unravel his arm from your body and take your wallet from his free hand. “I should really get going now. It was nice seeing you again Kai.” You offer him a tight lipped smile and move to walk past him but Jay grabs onto your hand and intertwines your fingers. “Let me walk you to the car.” You turn to look at him ready to tell him it’s not necessary but the way he says it makes it sound like a command and the way he stares at you shows there’s no room for disagreement. He nods his head in acknowledgement at Huening before walking past him, purposely bumping shoulders with him. You outwardly cringe at the clear jealousy in his eyes and show of masculinity. The two of you enter the elevator in silence, you hate how tense the atmosphere has become. Jay squeezes your hand one last time before releasing it.
He lets out a deep sigh, nodding, “do you still love him?”
You blink up at Jay, hands clasped together to stop them from shaking. Do you still love Kai? You always thought you did during your freshman year, but never really thought about it again when you left. When Jay came into the picture, you knew you loved him - probably more than you did Kai, but were you just going to disregard your entire past with Kai?
“He only meant something to me before, you know that.” You could hear your own heartbeat thumping from your chest as you anticipate his next words.
“You look at him the way I look at you.” He turns his head to face you, “you look at him the way I wished you would look at me when we first started dating. Like he holds the whole universe in his eyes.” He gulps as he clenches his fists, “you look at him like you’re in love with him.”
You wipe your clammy hands against your jeans as Jay's words ring in your ears. Do you really look at him like that?
“You’re not even going to deny it?” he scoffs and glares down at your shorter figure. “This morning you couldn’t even tell me that he’s a part of your past, G-God! I should have known!”
You shake your head, “Jay..”
He only speaks over you. “Why are you still hung up on that piece of shit? Are you forgetting everything he put you through? Why aren’t I enough for you? No- fuck that, why isn’t the life we’ve built together enough?”
You reach out to grab his hand, praying he doesn’t pull away. To your relief and mild shock, he doesn’t. “It is! It’s more than enough, Jay! I-I love you, and the twins. I can’t picture my life without the three of you!”
He nods and grips your hand back with the same ferocity you’re holding on to his. “Okay, then look me in my eyes and tell me you don’t love him anymore.”
You lick your lips and look down at the ground. You know what your answer should be yet that’s not what it is and you’ve never lied to your husband. You’re not going to start now.
“I-I don’t know what I feel for him.”
You’re heartbroken by your own admission, but even more so with how Jay releases a deep sigh and your hand; brows meeting at the middle of his forehead as he rips his gaze away from you. You could see his hands ball up into fists against his sides. His breathing is deep and slow; his tongue slowly licking across his bottom lip.
You should say something; explain it further to him. “J-”
The elevator dings and the doors separate. You sniff to hold in your tears as new people enter the lift.
“You should go. The twins are waiting.”
Your head snaps to look at Jay but he makes it a point to avoid your gaze. “B-but you said you would walk me to the car.”
He slowly shrugs. “It’s not like you wanted me to. Besides, being around you right now is too painful. I’ll see you at home.”
The elevator doors close with one last ding and your husband is whisked back up to the 10th floor leaving you all alone in the middle of the reception area crowded by HYBE staff. You try your best to contain your tears as you rush back to the parking garage. You shoot Chaeyoung a text to let her know you’ll be late to pick up the kids, when she lets you know that it’s alright you toss your phone and book it out of the parking lot.
You know you shouldn’t be driving while so high on emotions but you can’t stay anywhere near that fucking building.
Not wanting to go home to silence, you drive to your second safe place. Where you know you won’t be judged and your worries seemingly just melt away.
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You frantically knock on the door to Yujin’s home, wondering what the fuck was taking her so long to open the damn door.
“Who is it?”
You choke on a sob and seize your rapid knocking, “i-it’s me”
“_____?”
You nod and resume your knocking, “just let me in!” You hear the click of the lock coming undone before the door swings open and Yujin steps aside to let you in. She takes in your frantic appearance and takes cautious steps towards you, not wanting to set you off even more.
“Hey, what’s wrong?”
You place your right hand over your chest as you wheeze, finding it hard to breathe. “I really fucked up.”
You slap a palm over your mouth when a loud sob comes out of your mouth.
Before your body starts to fold as you fail to control your sobbing, Yujin’s arms are around you, encasing your frame against her chest. There’s no point in pushing her away. You’re tired in every aspect and it feels like the only thing to relieve you of that stress is to cry it out.
Your knees give in so suddenly, catching her off guard that she stumbles back a little; balancing your weights until she has both your bodies settled on the floor with her back against the white wall.
“It’s going to be okay,” she shushes you gently and strokes at your back as you sob into her clothes. She allows you to cry to your heart's content and calm down before asking you if you’re ready to speak on what’s caused you to break down.
“I should have listened,” you whine, shaking your head in disbelief. “I should have listened to you when you told me to leave it alone, I-I don’t know why I didn’t!”
“What happened, _____?”
You look up at her with watery eyes. “I really fucked up Yujin…” She sighs and adjusts the way she’s sitting.
“I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s wrong, love.”
You sniff and play with the hanging thread on your shirt. “I...I saw Kai today.” You timidly look into Yujin’s eyes, searching for any judgment in them but her face is passive. “I went to drop off lunch for Jay and the boys and ran into him on my way out.”
“Was that...the first time you’ve seen him since what went down?” Yujin softy asks.
You nod, “it was too painful to face him when I came back and Jay just hated me being near him so I guess I always made it a point to avoid him at all functions I knew he would be at.”
Yujin nods, “did something else happen?”
You close your eyes and bite down on your bottom lip, “an article dropped this morning about my past relationship with Kai and Jay asked me if Kai really was in my past but I dodged the question...he also saw Kai and I together and asked me privately if I...if I still love him.”
Yujin’s eyebrows shoot up, “...and what did you say?”
You scratch your neck and open your eyes, “I told him I don’t know what I feel for him.”
A heavy silence falls over the two of you as Yujin goes over your words. “What the actual fuck, _____?”
You sigh. “I know, I know I fucked up, okay? But Yujin these past few months I haven’t felt like...like myself.” You wipe your nose and try to find the right words. “I’m not saying I don’t love Jay, because I love that man with everything in me but when I think back to Kai-before everything went to shit it feels like everything’s normal again.”
“When I saw him today, it’s like something clicked. I felt like the old me again, for a brief second everything seemed clear and like the haze that I’ve been in ever since the twins turned six months just- vanished!”
Yujin waits for you to finish your rant before she gives you her opinion on the topic. “I don’t think this was ever about Kai.”
You look at her questioningly, “what..?”
Yujin sits up and reaches for your hands. “I should have paid more attention to you when you called me that night, _____. Everything you said then and now...it’s clear. This isn’t about Kai, you don’t miss him or your past relationship with him. You miss the person you used to be when you were with him.”
You shake your head, “n-no.”
Yujin cuts you off and goes on, “-Everything you’ve said- reminiscing on the past, who you were, feeling like a part of you was missing? _____, you’re so focused on Kai and what could have been because you never got the proper closure for what happened. He betrayed you in one of the worst ways and left you with so many unanswered questions. Now that you’ve moved on and experienced a new you, you’re finally having the chance to reflect on the version of yourself that you lost and never got to properly say bye to.”
She reaches for your hand, “...it also sounds like you might be dealing with postpartum depression. It doesn’t kick in until 6 months, maybe even a year after birth. And before you disagree, it’s not just not being able to bond with your kids, it’s feeling lost and hopeless, heightened anxiety...wishing you were someone else.”
You feel as if a weight lays heavy on your shoulders as you process her words. Postpartum depression? The way she gingerly explains it makes it easier to understand and process. It makes everything you’ve been dealing with more clear, your conflicting thoughts and feelings for Hueningkai finally seem to fall into place.
“I-I think you might be right, I definitely need to sort things out with Jay and schedule an appointment with my therapist but thank you for being here for me.”
Yujin softly smiles, “I hope you do actually schedule that meeting with your therapist. Don’t prolong this, and I’m sure Jay will come around. Just explain everything and be truthful. You know he can’t stay mad at you.”
You open your mouth to correct her but your phone buzzes in your pocket before you get the chance. You take it out and see a notification from Sunoo. You open the message and see a link to a website. The header for the article leaves you winded.
Hueningkai of TXT issues a personal letter regarding his past relationship stating he’s still in love with his ex.
You don’t bother reading the attached message Sunoo sent and slap Yujin’s arm to get her attention. She looks over your shoulder and gasps as she skims the article as well.
Hueningkai’s apology:
Moa~ recently it has come to light about a past relationship of mine. I’m sorry for belatedly relaying news of said relationship now but I can not apologize for being a normal teenager and wanting to experience the thrill of a relationship.
I don’t know how the media was able to get a hold of such private information and I sincerely apologize to those who were caught in the crossfire.
It’s true that my past lover is Park _____, the wife of my label mate. If there’s anyone who deserves a sincere apology, it’s her. She has done nothing to warrant the hate she has been receiving, people have been making attacks on her morals, character and parenting skills. All of which have nothing to do with the situation at hand, she is an exceptional being and an even greater mother.
We have not engaged in an affair of any type, I have only met with her once, today being the first in nearly eight years.
However, I can not lie and say I haven’t missed her. Seeing her in person today reinforced my feelings, I never once stopped loving her.
I’ve caused her an immense amount of pain and a lifetime worth of trust issues and I can only hope one day she forgives me. But until then, I’ll do everything in my power to right my wrongdoings.
-Hueningkai.
“What the fuck.” You whimper, how could he do this? His ‘apology’ did nothing but add more fuel to the fire. You can only imagine how Jay is reacting to this. You pray he hasn’t made any reckless decisions.
You scroll down to the comments to see how it’s being received by the public.
omo he’s so brazen 💀 +366
she’s a married woman with children...this is a bit…. +987
she’s really been passed around 😭 -217
i wonder just how many more hybe men she’s slept with +38
he’s only made her seem cheap ㅠㅠ -21
i wonder what her husband is thinking… +765
it sounds as if he cheated… +92
i wonder why they called things off if he’s still in love with her 🤔 +10
8...years..? (°_°) -65
“The internet thinks I’m a whore.”
Yujin reassuringly pats your back, “they don’t know anything and you don’t owe them an explanation.”
You shut off your phone, “that’s not the point, Yujin. i’m being slut shamed and vilified because my ex doesn’t know when to keep private information private and my husband’s pissed off with me and this probably made it worse!”
“Then talk to him, _____. He’s rightfully upset because you still don’t know how to properly communicate with him even after all these years. It’s not too late to fix things with Jay and this whole Kai situation will work itself out once you work things out at home.”
You sigh, maybe she’s right? “I should get going, I still have to pick up the kids and make dinner. I’ll let you know how things go once I talk to Jay.”
You say your goodbyes before leaving to go to Chaeyoung’s home to pick up your babies.
It isn’t until 9:30pm do you finish with your household chores. You made sure to feed and wash up the twins, cook dinner for both you and Jay, clean the kitchen and catch up on laundry. You even made it a point to clean Jay's home office for him.
He doesn’t get home for another three hours. He walks right past you and barely acknowledges your presence. He checks in on the twins who are fast asleep and gets himself ready for bed. You try and get him to talk to you, to say anything but he only tells you he’s tired and falls asleep facing away from you for the first time ever in your relationship.
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Three days pass by of the cold shoulder from Jay. He makes it a point to wake up before you and leave early in the mornings for work. On the rare occasion you happen to wake up before him however, he takes his time in getting ready to avoid having to sit down for breakfast with you and simply kisses the twins goodbye before murmuring out an I love you in your direction and leaving.
Simply put, you’re over it. You want your clingy and loving husband back. Luckily for you, today’s Sunday The one day you know is promised for you. He doesn’t have studio time on Sunday’s because you all go to your in-laws to have a family brunch and come back home for a weekly reset. Granted he slept in today and you missed brunch but you still have a chance to make things right. You asked your parents to babysit for you so you would have the house to yourselves for a bit. That way all the pent up anger can finally come out without the fear of upsetting the kids.
“Where are the twins?”
You look up from your tablet where you have been outlining points you want to make during your conversation with him.
“I had my parents come get them while you were sleeping.”
He sighs, “why?”
You fiddle with the apple pen in your hands, “because we need to talk and we can’t do that if we have to censor our words because our kids are in the house.”
He stares at you blankly for a second before shaking his head. “I don’t have much to say to you, _____.”
You sigh and push aside the iPad, “yes you do. Just get it off your chest Jay! This marriage won’t work if you keep avoiding me and keep your emotions bottled up!”
He slams his hands down on the kitchen counter and huffs, “what the fuck do you want me to say, _____?” He looks at you furiously, chest rising erratically. “That I’m pissed off with you? That I feel like I can’t trust you anymore? That I feel like you never even loved me?” Your heart breaks as you listen to his rant but you don’t stop him, you need to let him get it off his chest in order to actually heal and move on from this.
“I was the one who was there for everything, I’m the one you came to when you returned to Korea! Hell I’m even the one who put everything on the line for you when I found out what he did to you! And yet, you were still in love with him. You couldn’t even pretend to be half as in love with me as I was with you when we first started dating. So yeah, I’m pissed off that now, years later- as my wife, you still can’t open up to me the way you opened up to him within four months of dating.”
You sniff and nod. “I do love you, Jay. I always have and y-yeah, maybe I wasn’t upfront with my feelings for you when we first got together but that doesn’t change anything!”
“But it does! It does change everything, _____! Do you know what it feels like to know you’ll never be enough for the person you love? It feels like fucking hell! And that stupid article didn’t make things any better!”
You stand from your seated position to embrace him but he only shakes his head and backs away. “J-jay, that article has nothing to do with what I feel for you! I’m sorry I keep hurting you, I’m sorry I’ve put us in this position but you have to trust me when I say that Huening really is in my past!”
“How am I supposed to trust you when you’ve given me every reason not to.” He blinks away his tears and clears his throat. “I need to work on some lyrics for our new album. I’ll be in my office.” Jay exhales, walking around the counter and past you.
“B-but it’s Sunday.” 
Both of you promised each other that as much as possible, Sundays are days off. Unless it’s extremely urgent, neither of you are allowed to work.
“It’s still Saturday in Seattle.” And without another word he retreats to his home office
Confused and guilty, you don’t know what to do in your own home. It takes about ten minutes for you to gather your bearings and finish up the dishes from breakfast. You can’t even think of coherent thoughts, mindlessly doing the chore until you’re finished and feel lost again with what you could do. After another five minutes pass, you decide to head to the bathroom and sit in the bathtub for an hour.
Once you dry off from your bath, you apply your usual skincare and opt out of putting on any makeup aside from some lip balm. You spritz on a little perfume and get dressed in some gym shorts that hug your butt and a loose fitting top before heading back downstairs to the kitchen to make Jay a plate of food to bring to him, praying that by now he’s cooled off a bit.
As carefully as you can, you quietly walk over to where his home office is and peer through the crack. You want to roll your eyes at what you see; Jay slumped back on his couch, his game console controller in his hands, and an annoyed, but focused expression on his face as he stares at the fifa game he had going on.
“lyric writing, my ass.” You mutter, knocking on the door to alert him before opening it. “I brought you some lunch.”
“Thanks. Just leave it there.” Jay mumbles, still concentrating on his game as he nods his head towards his coffee table. 
Your heart drops; he didn’t even spare you a glance. You set the plate to where he gestured and start making your way out until he grabs your hand. You flinch at his sudden action, turning your head to meet his piercing gaze.
He blinks up at you, anger clearly in his eyes, he slowly stands up and discards the controller on his seat. You’re starting to feel small when he’s towering above you. After a long stare-off, he breaks the silence, “Where’s your ring?”
You look down at your hand and it only hits you now that you forgot to put your ring back on after you finished your skincare. “In the bathroom; I took it off to do my skincare.”
He’s breathing deeply; the strength of his hand around your wrist varies.
You take this as an opportunity, while his attention is on you. “Jay please” You don’t know what it is you want from him so you do what seemed like the best choice; you step closer and kiss him.
He doesn’t respond though; just closing his eyes in response. 
“Jay.” You whine, running your hands up his arms and tiptoeing to kiss him once more, but his hand comes up to your neck and holds you in place, making you gasp in shock.
“How far did you two go?”
You grow flustered with his question; wanting to run away but his gentle hold on your neck keeps you planted. “Jay…”
He dips his head down, ghosting his breath over your cheek. “Surely, you two kissed. Probably made out, right? Was he any good?”
“Not as good as you-”
Jay scoffs and pulls away, dragging his thumb across your bottom lip deliberately, “You don’t have to stroke my ego sweetheart so answer my question.”
You shift uncomfortably. “I-I don’t know. I guess?”
He purses his lips briefly before clicking his tongue. His eyes drag down your body, tracing a path with his palm, “Did you ever get touchy with each other? Any below the belt touching?”
You can feel your arousal growing as he applies a bit of pressure to your neck, “Jay, I-”
“Just answer the question, baby.” He hushes, racing his free hand up to your chest, palming one of your breasts. “Did he do this to you?”
“Yes.” You whimpered, arching your body towards him; desperate for more.
“And being the little slut that you are,” He pulls you closer to growl into your ear, “I bet you liked it, doll?”
He flips you around, pinning you to the door and presses his erection into your ass. He still has a hand on your right breast, kneading it a little more roughly now. You loudly moan at the sudden turn of events, putting your hands flat against the wall to stop him from completely crushing you against it.
His left hand begins to travel dangerously low on your stomach while his hips are still rutting against yours, “Did his hands ever touch you here?”
“No.” You resolutely denied, “you’re the only one.”
He hums in approval, but his hands are back on your breasts, which makes you whine again.
“Please touch me.”
Ignoring your request, he kisses your neck, “So that’s all you did?”
You moan and nod your head adamantly. Jay steps away from you, cold air intruding the warmth his body provided. You impatiently look back at him, wondering why he pulled away.
Jay releases you completely and kneels before pulling down your shorts causing you to gasp at the cold air that hits your clit. 
Jay lets out a hum of approval. “Spread those legs for me, Kitten,” he says - though from the domineering tone, you know it’s more of an order. Without question you obey. The moment your legs are splayed wide. Large hands spread your thighs further before Jay presses his head between - then, he tentatively presses his tongue to your clit.
“Ah-” you gasp out, your hips automatically bucking into his face at the roughness of his tongue. Once again, he chuckles before licking a swipe from your cunt all the way to your ass. Your back automatically arched, pushing your hips further into his face. Jay teases you with a couple more kitten licks before pushing his tongue into your dripping hole, swirling his tongue around and collecting all your arousal on his tongue. He laps deep into you, thrusting his tongue in and out, palming his cock as you ride his face. Gently suckling on your clit, Jay presses his nose to your clit, expertly locating your g-spot and causing vibrations of pleasure to strum along them. Your vocal cords strained, voice cracking as you let out another cry. You feel your pussy walls ripple, abdomen twisting into a wrenching knot inside of you as he continues lapping your clit.
You simply can’t catch your breath, your head lolling helplessly to the side as your shoulders slump. You quickly feel your orgasm approach, the knot in your stomach twisting even further as Jay drives you to the brink of pleasure. Your hips move instinctively, grinding your pussy against his eager face as Jay buries it deeper between your thighs.
“I’m- oh gosh I’m going to cum” You warn, voice raspy and throat raw. You breathe deeper, gasps turning into low moans as your body seizes up, eyes rolling deep into the back of your skull as you come around his skillful tongue. Jay feels you gush around his mouth and lets up a bit to catch his breath before diving back as he licks and swallows up all of your cunt juice. You try to push him away, thighs still quivering as he continues eating you out. You squeal, the overstimulation of your orgasm paired with his continued ministrations driving you wild.
You feel him pull away, exhaling as your pussy finally has some relief. However, it doesn’t last long before suddenly Jay stands and grabs the back of your neck to pull you into a sloppy kiss, all wet from your saliva. You respond immediately; hands flying to his shoulders and hoisting yourself up on his body, prompting him to carry you by your thighs.
“You’re so fucking spoiled.” He groans. He reaches from below to push his pants down and slips his shaft in.
A moan erupts from your throat; his length slipping in easily with your arousal. You cling onto his shoulders, burying your face in the crook of his neck as he starts pounding into you with immense force. You’re moaning in pleasure when his hands are practically clawing at your hips, ramming himself deeper and deeper.
Jay slowly makes his way out of his office making his way to what you assume is your bedroom but stops at the foot of the staircase and gently places you down on the first few steps, his dick not once leaving you. He puts you down to spin you around and enters you from behind; you’re convinced that your hips are bruised at how his fingers are digging into them to help him control the pace 
“Jay.” You moan, barely holding yourself up by your forearms. You reach beneath you to try and stimulate your clit, wanting just a little more something to climax.
He stops you from touching yourself, grabbing both your wrists and holds them behind you. He’s pushing all of his weight up into you, practically lying on top of you. His skin is hot and sweaty, sliding against your back.
It’s almost too much - the pleasure, the emotions, and the love you feel. Your heart begins palpitating in your chest, beating so hard and fast that your chest begins to ache. “Jay,” you whine, the sound high-pitched as you squeal from his ministrations, “I’m cumming,” you whimper though, Jay doesn’t need the warning. He already knows your orgasm is impending, from the way your thighs begin shaking and the way your walls clamp around him.
“Ah. AH- AH! Jay!” you finally sob. Your peak hits a crescendo, and your orgasm ricochets through you with more force than you expected. Jay groans, feeling your pussy ripple uncontrollably around his cock before tightening. Your walls contract rhythmically, and suddenly, his hips still as he begins cumming.
Rope after rope of Jay’s cum slowly fills you. His warmth practically burns inside you, coating your walls white and claiming every single piece of you as his. His cum spills out of you once he pulls out and he rests his forehead on your shoulder as both of you catch your breaths, rolling off of you.
Soon, you’re turning to face him. You lean in and place a kiss on his lips, this time he responds to it; opening his mouth so you could slip your tongue in.
Without breaking off the kiss, he sits up and cradles one side of your face with his hand.
“I’m sorry.” He quietly says in between kisses.
“I’m sorry, too.” You curl up into his chest as he leans back on the bannaster. “I should have just been honest from the start. You deserve to know.”
Jay combs back your hair for you, “You don’t have to talk about it today.”
“No. I don’t want to put it off any longer.”
“Okay, let’s get cleaned and dressed first.” He kisses your cheek before standing, helping you up as well.
Jay helps you clean up and carries you up the stairs to bring you into your shared room, he wipes you down with a warm cloth and dresses you in his boxers and oversized graphic before leaving to enter the bathroom to clean himself up as well to get dressed.
Five minutes later, Jay is back and clothed; sporting another plain tee and boxers. Sitting beside you, he patiently waits for you, angling his body to face yours.
“When you asked me if he was a part of my past I should have told you what I was thinking instead of avoiding the topic,” You pick at the bedsheets, “Kai and I were always complicated, and I can’t say I miss that or him but I do miss who I was before I lost him.”
You sigh, “these past few months have been hard and I should have told you when I first started feeling less like myself. I guess I thought it was all in my head and I didn’t want you to think it was you… I love you and what I feel for Kai-”
Jay tips his head at your sudden pause.
“What I felt for Kai, is nowhere near what I feel for you. He’s a part of my past and..,” You shake your head, “and I’m sorry for being so shady about it. I don’t look at Kai the way I look at you, I never can because I don’t love him. And it’s something that’s taken me time to realize but, I don’t miss Kai. I miss who I used to be when I was with him, before he ruined that.”
“I’m sorry I hurt you in the process of trying to figure out my shit but I can assure you that no part of me is in love with him. I’ve been feeling differently and it’s not because of anything you did or said,” You nervously laugh, “I talked to Yujin about it and she totally went all psychologist on me, but she thinks this is all stemming from a larger problem… she thinks I might have postpartum depression..”
He lifts his hand to your cheek to wipe away a stray tear you didn’t even know fell from your eye. “Postpartum depression?”
“Mmmh. My issues are stemming from my inability to let go of who I used to be to allow myself to be who I am now.” You inhale as deep as you can and exhale with an awkward laugh, “I booked a therapy session with Dr. Lee for Tuesday, we’ll know more then.”
Jay pulls you to him, kissing your forehead, “I’m sorry for not paying closer attention. I’m even more sorry that I’ve been such a jackass to you recently.”
“I should have communicated better.”
“Yes, you should have but as your husband I shouldn’t have missed the signs. I’m so sorry baby.”
You lean into him, slinging your arms over his shoulders. “Are we okay?”
He smiles softly and nods. “Of course we are.”
He grins, nose scrunching at how you curl up like a cat to cuddle his chest. You run your fingers over his hair, slowly and repeatedly, reciprocating the little smile splayed on his face. His lips are on your shoulders and neck, softly sucking on patches of your skin and murmuring sweet nothings.
“I love you.”
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You’re sat on the couch in your living room with Jay and his publicist with a random kdrama playing faintly in the background while the twins take their afternoon nap upstairs. It’s been a week since Hueningkai’s apology dropped and the press and fans are still raving over it.
There are protests outside HYBE demanding Hueningkai be pulled out of further TXT promotions indefinitely while some fans are still shading you and your integrity on Twitter. You never imagined your life would become such a hot topic yet here you are.
“We need to satiate the media,” Jay’s publicist, Jaemin, places down his coffee on the coaster in front of him and clears his throat, “I’ve talked it over with your manager, members and the CEO himself. We believe a statement from the two of you and the third party is a good way to clear the air and show to the public that there is no animosity or anything scandalous going on.”
You feel Jay squeeze your hand as he mulls over what has been said. “Why a statement? Where would it be posted? Is this really the best option?”
You pat his knee and chuckle at him, “what is this? 20 questions? At least let the man get a word in.”
Jay sighs and turns to face you. “I’m sorry, it’s just… the press has been slandering you all week and I don't want this statement to fuel that fire.”
Jaemin nods. “I understand your want to protect your wife from the malicious comments being made online and I can assure you that we will be reading all drafts and making edits as needed so it can’t be interpreted in a different way.”
Jay wearily looks at Jaemin before looking back at you. “I...I’m all for it only if you’re comfortable with it, love.”
You look at the two boys and ponder the possible outcomes. “I think we should do it. It’ll clear any and all tension and we can all finally move on.”
Jaemin smiles and stands, fixing his suit he says. “Great. I’ll leave you two then, send your final drafts to me and they’ll be revised, sent back over to you to read one last time before being posted on Weeverse. Your manager should be in touch soon, Jay.”
You and Jay stand as well to see him out. You thank him for his time and watch him drive away before going back inside.
“You’re awfully quiet… Do you want to talk about it?” You ask once you’re seated back on the couch. Jay spares you a glance before sighing and placing his hands on his knees.
“I know I said I would support your decision no matter what it was but.. are you sure you can handle this, _____? That it won’t be triggering for you?”
You purse your lips as you stare at his side profile. “I’m not on the verge of a mental breakdown, Jay. I’m stronger than you think.”
He turns to face you and takes your right hand in his. “I know you’re strong, _____. Your strength is a part of why I fell in love with you to begin with. I’m just thinking about what Dr. Lee said.”
You sigh as you think back to your joint therapy session with Jay two days ago. You opted to attend the first one alone, you didn’t think you could be completely upfront with your therapist had your husband been there in fear he would be disappointed with himself and blame himself for your actions and emotions. Once you had gotten the initial meeting over with, you scheduled a joint one with him for Thursday. It went better than you anticipated.
Jay takes a seat on the lounge chair beside you and peeks at you, letting out a sigh when he sees your face, “sweetheart, you being nervous is making me nervous.”
“I’m sorry.” You shake your head, “I just know things will be different once the hour is over.”
It breaks his heart more than it scares him that you think it’ll be that way. He squeezes your knee to stop it from bouncing. “Different isn’t always bad, I’ll better know how to care for you. This is what we need my love.”
There’s a knock on the door before it opens. A slender female walks in, wearing a black skirt and a baby pink blouse, and smiles brightly at both of you. “Ah, so this is the infamous Jongseong! A pleasure to finally meet you.”
He stands up to shake her hand and offers a smile, “likewise.”
She smiles once more at you as she sits down on the armchair and taps her finger on the clipboard she brought in. “So, shall we begin?”
You look at Jay and he nods at her, easing back in his seat.
She leans forward and crosses her legs.“How have you two been? The twins?”
“We’re doing okay, better than we were last week.” Jay answers, “the twins are good too. They’re spending the day with my mother.”
Dr. Lee nods her head at him. She turns to you, “You must be excited, I know I would be if I got some alone time away from my children.”
You feel your cheeks warm up, “the quiet home is nice, it’s been a while since I could hear a pin drop.”
She hums before looking down at her notes.“During our last session_____ explained to me feelings of loneliness and isolation, has she explained this in any detail to you Jongseong?”
You didn’t think she’d segway into your postpartum so abruptly; your mouth opens, but you shut it immediately. It’s not your turn to speak.
“She has, very briefly though. It was after we had an argument about her ex, I was upset and I also felt…betrayed. I couldn’t understand why she couldn’t just put him and their relationship to rest. I only really became more empathetic when she explained she might be dealing with a mental disorder.”
“I see. _____ did mention an argument during our last session.” Dr. Lee says as she makes some new notes in your chart before returning her attention to Jay, “I’ll get into her diagnosis in a bit but first, I’d like to know something. _____ explained to me the fight you had in the elevator and everything that followed..”
“It might be difficult for you, Jongseong, but I’d like to ask what you were thinking of from when you walked in on Kai conversing with _____, to confronting her in the elevator, until the night ended.”
“I tried calling her before I left to look for her but she wouldn’t answer and when I saw her holding her phone and talking to Kai, blatantly ignoring my call it just made me feel second place to him again. It didn’t help that she couldn’t be clear about her feelings, all I wanted to do after that was go back and punch the smug look off his face.”
“I see. Why were you so mad at Kai? He wasn’t the one who hurt you, so why take your anger out on him?”
Jay doesn't answer immediately, trying to properly think through his response. “He hurt _____ yet she was still hung up on him. I didn’t think it was fair that he continuously got a second chance with her when he never deserved it to begin with, all I ever wanted was for her to love me as much as she loved him...to open up to me like she did with him.”
“Hasn’t she?”
“No. It feels like I always have to argue with her before she tells me how she truly feels.”
Dr. Lee  nods, “Well, what if I told you she has? She might not flat out tell you what she’s thinking like she did with Kai but you can’t expect her to.” She sits up straight and places her chin in the palm of her hand. “The one person she trusted enough to open up to betrayed her trust in multiple ways. It won’t be easy to do it again. While she might not be at the level of completely opening up, she’s doing it in her own way. When she feels as if she’s ready, she comes to you, she takes her time to think her thoughts through so as to not hurt you. There’s no doubt that she needs to work on her communication skills but at the very least, she’s trying.”
You look at Jay to see how he’s receiving the news but his face is blank.
Dr. Lee watches Jay as well, waiting for a beat to pass before she clears her throat, “I officially diagnosed _____ with postpartum depression, also known as PPD. It’s a continuous pattern of mood swings, restlessness and reduced ability to clearly think. People with PPD can go through very intense episodes of emotions, such as anxiety and depression.”
She pauses to let him process the information, seeing his brows furrow ever so slightly.
“Symptoms of PPD,” she continues, “are feelings of loneliness and loss of self. People with PPD will often seek out people or things from their past to prevent this from happening; along with this, because they’re so focused on their past and what feels like is missing they can’t allow themselves to focus on the lives they have now.”
You don’t say anything, even though you feel like you should. But still, you don’t comment on it and nod at her. “This can lead to a lack of bonding with their children. While _____ hasn’t shown much trouble connecting with the twins there’s still a chance it could happen if we don’t properly care for her.”
“Is this treatable?”
“Yes, there are many options such as medication, therapy and even self soothing measures but your wife has elected to not medicate. For _____, this is what we call cognitive behavioral therapy; a type of therapy that tries to identify and change negative thinking and pushes for positive behavioral changes.”
“There’s nothing wrong with wanting to get closure and putting this behind us.”
Jay nods and leans in to kiss your forehead, “okay. If you feel you’re ready then I won’t push.”
Later that evening the two of you sit down to draft your personal statements regarding the current situation before sending them off to Jaemin to revise. The edits are quickly made that night before being sent to you to read. Once receiving the stamp of approval from the two of you both are posted to Weverse and the response is rather surprising. You’re met with sympathy and grace, fans understanding how hard you must have had it these past few days. Engene step up and start trending tags for both you and Jay and you feel relief all over your body.
While Jay wasn’t your first boyfriend, your first kiss nor was he even your first love, he was the only love for you. And that’s the only love that matters, the only one that’ll last and go the distance. It’ll always be him.
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thornnii · 1 year ago
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⏤ ✦ ink spots
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genre: fluff wordcount: 0.6K pairing: Carlos DeVile x gn!reader pronouns: they/them other: Y/N's parents aren't mentioned so can be from any family, no specific timeline but set during school years, implied AK!reader, no actual dialogue, established relationship warnings: one swear summary: for an art project Y/N has to incorporate ink into their piece, but it's not just the art that gets covered in ink thorn's notes: originally posted 01/Oct/2022; edited, this has a really shit and rushed ending
⏤ return to old posts masterlist
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The stark white canvas stared back at them tauntingly, a small yellow post-it note was stuck loosely to the table beside them. Y/N had jotted down the prompt given earlier in class on it: 'use ink in project'. Short and simple and to the point, not that that served to provide any inspiration now.
It was at that moment that their boyfriend, Carlos DeVile, entered the art room. In all honesty he had been looking for Mal, needing to pass on a message that Ben had given him. He didn't mind not finding her, in fact he was pleased to have found Y/N instead. Y/N too was pleased at his arrival, happily welcoming the company. Carlos's arrival had provided Y/N with some much needed inspiration, more specifically: his multi-coloured hair, the splattering of black in amongst soft white locks. Ink blots on a page or spots in a dalmatian's fur.
That was it! That was they would paint; a patch of snowy white fur using deep black ink to create spots and patches. It would take time and would probably beat them round the ass when it came to shading, but it was something and they would make it work.
It had been a day and a bit since Y/N's inspiration had dawned on them and they'd been making good progress. Carlos had stayed and watched for a bit before remembering why he was there in the first place and the message for Mal.
Now, though, the couple sat together deliberately. Finally it had come to the point when the painting part was finished and dried and all that was left was to add the ink. An inkwell full of deep black ink sat on the table in front of Carlos, who held onto it with a firm grip to make sure that there would be no risk of spillages, whether over the table or yourselves.
Y/N was using a calligraphy brush to draw with the ink; it kept the line neat and smooth as they used it carefully. Just as Y/N was moving the brush back to canvas after going for a re-dip a small drop fell from the tip and landed on the sleeve of Carlos's red, woollen sweater. As soon as they noticed the ink dropping, Y/N flipped the brush in their hand and began to apologise profusely to Carlos. Carlos didn't mind, sure it was annoying but clothes could be washed and he was used to way dirtier clothes back on the Isle anyway.
But as the two focused on his sweater sleeve, neither noticed ink began running down the brush Y/N's hand, slowly making its way down to their fingers. Not until Y/N felt it dripping down their skin. Now looking to their fingers they gave a short laugh, quickly putting the pen down in the inkwell, they quickly grabbed for some paper towels that they'd left to their side incase of this exact situation. But, of course, the ink didn't wipe away cleanly, leaving a large streak across their hand.
Finally the project was completed, left to sit on a windowsill to dry. Y/N absentmindedly drew shapes onto the table with their finger as they talked about this, that and the other to Carlos. As they were talking, Carlos picked up the fine brush from the ink pot and began drawing patterns on the back of his partner's hands. Y/N quickly noticed what he was doing, feeling the brustles drag across their skin, but they made no effort to stop his actions, continuing on as if nothing was happening.
At some point the roles reversed and it became Y/N that was drawing on their lovers hand: softly painting out the bones of his left hand.
It didn't take long until both of them had each of their hands covered in an array of doodles and were laughing away like idiots. Idiots in love.
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lilacxquartz · 5 months ago
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Those Late Summer Nights | Chapter 13
satoru gojo x f!reader × suguru geto
plot: you moved to tokyo over the summer to take a teaching job. as you get settled in, you find yourself entangled in a toxic dynamic.
chapter summary: following a certain suspicion confirming suguru’s hunches, he finally learned the full truth of what happened to you back in your hometown.
warnings: bad memories/bullying referenced
< Previous Chapter • Next Chapter >
13. Locker Rooms
The next couple of days felt equally numb and confusing as you processed exactly what was going on between you and Suguru, especially as he didn’t really let you leave to go back home just yet.
The truth was that he was waiting for the perfect moment to confirm something. He also wanted to train you a little before letting you go back as he wanted you to be stronger sooner than later.
“Feel free to update people that you’re okay now,” he said, giving you back your phone that he took from you earlier.
You did so almost immediately, finding that your phone was actually blown up for once. You were used to disappearing for days at a time back when you lived in the town, but this didn’t carry on so well with the people you were so quickly intertwined with.
And it has only been a couple of months as well.
The fact that this happened so quickly was messing up your entire mind.
Shoko initially kept things brief, telling you not to do anything stupid because she didn’t want to put you back together if she could help it. Her next couple of messages however were asking you if you’re alive even, if you’re doing okay.
You texted her back first, saying that you just needed some time to be alone and that you were fine.
She was smart though, you knew she wouldn’t buy it.
Satoru, otherwise, was the one who spammed the most. There were some missed calls, a lot of messages too. Some of what he sent didn’t make a whole of sense as you couldn’t quite figure out the context.
You responded to him using the same exact response that you sent out to Shoko as it seemed like a safer option.
You were technically thinking for the last couple of days. On and off about everything that was going on. It’s just you were also going through a little bit more beyond that point as well.
It’s not like you could disclose what had happened either, not wanting to bring any more attention to yourself.
Suguru saw whatever was happening to you as a step in the right direction as you weren’t actually trying to leave. The fact that you listened to him and went along with his ideas was all that he wanted.
(Despite this whole thing actually being bad for you.)
Satoru swung by his place some time later on, something that Suguru had in fact anticipated. He gave you your phone back for a reason after withholding it because he wanted to test something out, not because he was needlessly controlling.
He did let you accuse him of that though, thinking it’d be easier to explain than what he was actually doing.
Besides, you were well within your rights to hate him currently, so he also didn’t really fight it.
You stayed in his bed as you messed around on your phone; the door partially concealing you just enough for Satoru to see a familiar person beyond the door.
Satoru was admittedly surprised to find you there, but he didn’t allow himself to show it. He wanted to ask why you were there, because Suguru never had anyone over. He’d always been the type to either go to someone else’s place while not allowing anyone inside.
So why were you there…?
Suguru studied Satoru’s mannerisms and reactions as he pieced everything together. He shouldn’t have doubted his hunch from the start because certain suspicions were already clear, evident to even how his friend’s knuckles were bandaged and how he was acting slightly erratic.
However, Suguru wasn’t going to do anything or say anything just yet. He was going to act like he doesn’t know a single thing unless Satoru would start crumbling by himself otherwise.
As for you; he knew that you wouldn’t say anything to anyone because as it stands, he managed to break you just a little. Or a lot. He still felt huge amounts of guilt for what he did, but the jealousy was finally beginning to subside now that he had you right where he wanted you to be and he wasn’t planning ever let you go.
“Is that [name]?” Satoru asked. You could hear them both talk through the door.
“Yeah,” Suguru replied in a casual manner as he acknowledged his friend, “guess she wanted to be a bit further away than where it happened.”
“Thought she’d be at the campus,” Satoru speculated.
“Yeah, but that’s away from everyone else,” Suguru pointed out, “still wanted some familiarity, you know?”
Satoru didn’t like that implication. It still didn’t make a whole lot of sense to him and despite knowing that he shouldn’t have acted out that way back in the alley, he now felt something strange brewing away. Initially he was going to make it up to you but now he felt entitled to something he couldn’t have.
Something that Suguru now had instead.
Or at least it seemed that way to him.
So maybe he would give into a thought he’d been tempting this whole summer and do something he shouldn’t, just so he could get a taste too. He didn’t understand why for once, Suguru wasn’t willing to share someone with him.
(Unless Suguru was actually taking things seriously with you?)
You could feel a strained silence brew between the two of them as neither replied for a good amount of time. Not having a faint clue of what was going on in either of their heads. It was too confusing of a time to think properly, after all.
“Right,” Satoru concluded, his tone not quite convinced but he quickly changed it up to something happier once again, as if to cast the illusion that he didn’t care a single bit. “Wanna hang out tonight though?”
“Could,” Suguru said in response to maintain the delusion; you could hear some quieter conversation happen between the two of them before something was decided, “one sec, though.”
Suguru broke away from Satoru, closing the door momentarily. He then slipped back into the bedroom for a second to grab his wallet off of the nightstand and as he did so, he stared at you for a moment.
“You can use the rest of the apartment,” he told you as if setting up some ground rules, “just avoid the door opposite the bathroom, that room belongs to the girls but they’re away for the summer.”
The girls? Oh, that’s right. Shoko did mention that he was responsible for a pair of younger girls that he took from a bad situation. She never really elaborated, but it was clear that he was a guardian or maybe even dad to them.
You nodded as you had no interest in invading their privacy anyway.
“I won’t,” you replied in a soft voice.
“Good,” he replied, seeming much more at ease knowing that you would be in his home as opposed to anywhere else. You’d be safe here. “I’ll be back later tonight and we can begin the training tomorrow.”
You nodded along again, feeling somewhat nervous about the prospect. You didn’t say goodbye to him as he left, but he did so.
As far as you understood from everyone else, including him, Suguru was a good fighter and that he was strong when it came to things like hand to hand combat and the like.
Still, there was just something about the way he worded it.
It didn’t seem as though you were going to learn how to just defend yourself, but how to hurt people on purpose.
And that simply didn’t sit quite right with you.
~~~
When Suguru came back, he seemed to be in a slightly different way than before, as if almost agitated. Such an abrupt change in his personality left you wondering what exactly happened, but you also didn’t want to push his buttons knowing exactly what he does when aggravated.
It was quite late when he came back as well, so he returned to the sight of you laying on his sofa, watching some reruns of some old show.
He sat down beside you, lifting your head over his thighs so that you could instead rest on top of his lap. He smelled how he usually did; stale cigarettes and sweat clinging to skin, the consequence of a humid summer.
You never said anything to greet him even though you were wide awake but then again, he never said anything back either.
In utter silence, his hand crept to your hair and he passively played with it. The lack of words exchanged casted an eerie atmosphere as you could hear the wet smack of his lips parting on and off as if he wanted to say something, but kept holding himself back.
After a while though, he finally managed to speak again. His throat clearing as a deep exhale left him at last.
“[name]?” he asked, trying to be kind with you in the way that he addressed you.
You hummed in a questioning tone, feeling a little sleepy as you laid there.
“I know you probably don’t want to,” he started off, his fingers tightening around your scalp just a little tighter as he paused, “but can you tell me exactly what that other thing your bully did? You never finished explaining because you were too drunk.”
You paused as you suddenly felt unwell again and as a result felt unsure as to how exactly to go about this.
You remembered that one defining night at the bar quite well and it was very likely that you got as quickly close to that particular group of people because all four of you were damaged to an extent.
It was quick, it was toxic, it was exhausting.
It got you into a situation you didn’t like as a result.
You really didn’t want to share, but there was something about the way he asked it and how he held onto you, that it felt as though it was a personal matter for him too.
“Why?” you asked.
“There’s just something I want to understand,” he replied, “but if you don’t want to say, then I won’t force you.”
He didn’t rush you to reply, trying to figure out if you would do it by yourself. He wasn’t going to force you just as he promised, even though he was so damn curious.
In his mind, he didn’t really get why you were being so passive. He almost wanted for you to scream at him, to call him out for the way he was acting. Not that he could blame you for it, but he wanted to understand if something in particular might have happened in the past that made you a certain way.
“Um,” your voice croaked after a while, a lot of your words were stuck in your throat and you couldn’t figure out how to start but you entertained the whole request anyway, “it had been the final week at school and she, Yui, figured out I was in the process of transferring because it was a small town and a small school.”
“I’m listening,” he said, resuming a gentler motion on your head, he didn’t want to pressure you—not like this anyway, “you can take your time if it’s difficult.”
You did just that. It was easier to say everything back when you had a drink in your hand but you were starkly sober now in a situation you didn’t anticipate being in.
“I guess she took it personally, maybe thinking I was transferring because of her at the time,” you continued, “I was simply going to go to another type of school, the uh, jujutsu school, but it wasn’t something that I could exactly explain to others, so I just called it an alternative school or something like that.”
He nodded along, trying to sink further back into the sofa as he pulled you a little closer up to him.
“It was a Friday from what I remember, because there was no school the next day and I stayed behind a little longer as I slowly gathered things like my old workbooks and things from the home room.”
It was funny in a way with just how much you could remember, it was so strikingly clear and you were reciting it as though it had happened just yesterday ago.
You wondered if Yui could remember it just as clearly too. If she even felt guilty at all.
Was that a silly thought to have?
Of course she probably didn’t feel a single thing at all.
“She stopped me just as I was leaving the school grounds, her other friends held the other exits for her so that I had nowhere to go… so her boyfriend at the time walked me over to the locker rooms where she was waiting.”
This next part was going to be awkward to explain, so maybe it was for the best that you never explained it to the group. It did leave you wondering if even Satoru would have acted differently to you had he known, if he would have been less pushy, if he would have treated Yui so lightly when he was in town with you.
“The locker rooms to the gym wing all had adjacent showers and we often used them after using the pool,” you explained, you weren’t quite so sure why you were being so calm to someone who equally hurt you back, but you continued anyway, “they turned on all of the showers to the hottest setting, letting the steam fill the room as it quickly became uncomfortably warm, almost like a sauna.”
Suguru in the meantime was wondering where exactly this was going. He felt more guilt rise within him as he tried to figure out if something was done to you or not.
“Her boyfriend’s dad was a police officer, so I guess she convinced him to steal a pair of handcuffs. He held me down as she cuffed me to the pipes near the shower,” you continued, remembering just how scalding hot those things were when you accidentally touched them. “T-the pipes were hot, but thankfully they didn’t leave a permanent mark. It just felt… raw for a while.”
That got an involuntary reaction from Suguru as he tensed up, the tugging on your hair hurting a little causing him to mutter a curt apology as he realised what he did.
Continuing after a brief moment of silence, you shared the next part a lot more reluctantly, “Her boyfriend also kind of um, touched me… felt me up… while she was out of the room briefly, so when she uh, came back and saw him doing that, I got the blame and…”
He pulled back, having a question in mind but he waited for you to finish.
“She attacked me as a result… like, she punched me and my head hit the tiles—I wasn’t sure if that part was intentional though, because she pulled back after,” you continued, “she specifically said the words, ‘I’ll mess up your face so nobody can ever look at you like that again,’ but luckily I guess it didn’t scar physically in the end, just mentally…”
“Sorry, but how old were you?” he finally asked the question that he had in mind.
“We were both 14, or maybe she was 15. Her boyfriend was about 16.”
“The fuck,” he replied, his eyebrows furrowing while his face adopted a conflicted expression.
Another silence brewed as he processed this.
“Sorry, you can continue,” he said after about a minute.
“She never gave me a reason at the time, so I had no idea why this whole thing was happening,” you continued to explain, still being unsure why she went so far, “she took my shirt off and put it over my head so that it quickly became unbearably hot as the time went on, I was pretty much left in there for the remainder of the night.”
“…As the showers were running?”
“Those turned off after a while, actually. I’m not sure why,” you replied.
“But you were still left there overnight…?”
“Y-Yeah,” you hesitated as you continued to explain, “I mean they all left after and I was left alone in the room overnight. Even if the hot water cooled down over time, that wasn’t the problem.”
“It was the fact that you were soaked and unable to do anything about it, right? While having a head injury?” Suguru quickly caught on. You might have genuinely gotten hypothermia from that whole thing in addition to being beaten up which meant that it wasn’t even bullying at that point, but rather an attempt on your life.
“Y-yeah…” you replied. “The school still had maintenance staff oversee the grounds even when the days were off for the teachers and the students, so I was still found reasonably quickly.”
He stayed quiet as he settled on a decision in his mind. He felt it for a while… even before you, but he was slowly starting to hate humanity. He didn’t want to protect people anymore.
As a result, his grip on your head tightened. Not out of possession, but out of anger. He didn’t mean to hurt you though, so he kept himself restrained. Just barely.
“The rest of that day was a blur for me; they called in firefighters to help get me out of the cuffs and an ambulance to come treat me, the police were involved at some point too.”
You stopped explaining things for a moment, needing to take a break before continuing.
“I was in a really bad shape after,” you added, sounding a little defeated.
“Did anything happen to her for doing this to you?” his voice cracked a little. He didn’t care how he sounded.
“Not at all,” you scoffed a little, feeling some tears form. You couldn’t help it, it was a tough memory to recite, “her family used their influence and connections to sweep this whole thing to the side so it never blew up more than it should have.”
“So, let me get this straight,” Suguru spoke up again, pausing as he processed every single detail, “they got off free for inflicting actual torture?”
“Her boyfriend took the hit, her two other friends did too. Yui however walked away without consequence, but to my knowledge, she never did anything like that to anyone ever again.”
“Huh,” he replied, unsure how to actually proceed. He expected something bad, but this was beyond anything he could have imagined.
There was a long and uncomfortable silence after that and the entire time, Suguru was planning something else now. His hold finally relaxed on you as he came to a decisive conclusion, something clicking internally as he understood exactly what he wanted to do.
“You probably won’t like this either,” he spoke up after what felt like minutes, “but I’d like to go to your hometown before the summer break ends.”
“W-why?” you asked. You just spent so long talking about your unfortunate time there and he wanted to go there? Why…? Besides, if Satoru hated it for being boring, then Suguru especially would go insane.
“There’s something I’d like to do,” he simply said, remembering something important.
“Do what…?” you asked.
“Don’t worry about it for now,” he assured you, switching the television off as he fumbled with the remote.
He laid back on the sofa with you on his lap, staring straight ahead into the dark. He wasn’t going to sleep, even if he did feel your body twitch after some time and your breathing turn much more laboured.
He was going to keep up his promise, he decided.
He was going to keep you safe from everything else, no matter what it took.
Somebody at some point hurt you and to his understanding, they never got a punishment.
That much was going to change.
(Even if it meant killing for you.)
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liyawritesss · 2 years ago
Text
ᴛᴏᴜᴄʜɪɴ', ʟᴏᴠɪɴ', ꜰᴜᴄᴋɪɴ'
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Characters: HBCU!Emerald Haywood, HBCU!Shuri Udaku x Black!Fem!Reader
From: NOPE (2022) Dir. Jordan Peele & Black Panther: Wakanda Forever (2022) Dir. Ryan Coogler
Type: Fic
Word Count: 12.8k
In Collaboration With: @babyboiboyega
Synopsis: Emerald and Shuri finally meet for the first time, and when coming to the realization that you’ve been keeping yourself away from them deliberately, the two women plan to give you exactly what you want.
Warnings: cursing, mentions of drug usage (cannabis), mentions of greening out,  suggestive themes, smut
A/N: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ‼️ this is an 18+ rated fic, you have been warned. I ain't responsible for scarring yall asses. But yeah, this is my first time writing sex...particularly wlw sex so I hope that it makes sense and actually sounds accurate. This Is the product of Quin and I's heavy thirsting one cold night in early January....This is also inspired by the great @generallysapphic and their amazing catalog of expertly written wlw smut with our favorite Wakanda Forever geniuses. With that being said, I hope you all enjoy this one. Strap in, this is a long one(no pun intended)!
Tags: @inmyheadimobsessed @badass-dora-milaje @babyboiboyega @verachii @heartsforjojo @letitias-fav @kingstormpostsshit @shurismainbxtch @zayswriting @rxcently @nzia-writes @writingintheshadowsforever @hufflehans @kokichiis7 @xxmilli @typicalme13 @zestgodtj @generallysapphic @ziayamikaelson @shuriszn @percsane @justariellove @n7cje @mbakuetshurisprincess
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Today is the day.
There’s a pool of anxiety forming in your tummy, and you’re not sure why. Not even your music can sway you into calmer waters, which tells you that the feeling in your tummy is nothing to play off.
You’re standing in the mirror, going over your figure once more. The three-piece cream lounge set you wore, complete with fuzzy shorts, cropped tank and long flow-y cardigan contrasted beautifully against your honey brown skin. Your braids had been pulled into a half-up ponytail, with two on each side left down in the front to frame your face. It was the set Emerald had bought you for your birthday, knowing that you’d love the fabric used. Ironically Shuri bought you the exact same one, color and all, saying that the color of it reminded her of you.
God, how did you manage to have Emerald Haywood and Shuri Udaku wrapped around your dainty little finger? Even you couldn't answer that question.
Looking at the both of them, who’s polaroid pictures had been taped lovingly on the fringe of your full length mirror, anyone could tell that you had a type. Dark skin, brown eyes, curly hair - the only thing making them different were their origins and occupations. And the one thing tying these two women of completely different worlds together, was you.
You remember the day you first met Emerald. You’d been shopping at Best Buy trying to find a new camera to take better pictures with for your photography class. Emerald was there, and from the moment she saw you, she knew she had to have you. Sparking up a conversation was easy, and the laughter that was shared in that camera aisle was one you’d never experienced before. Despite her brother cockblocking, as she would recall it, urging for them to go, Emerald took her sweet time typing her number into your phone. The wink she sent you had butterflies dancing in your stomach, and til this day, it still does.
Then, two weeks later, you met Shuri Udaku. Despite her wanting to keep her social status under tight lock and key, the air of regality and confidence she held did little to help her keep her identity under wraps. Not to mention, she’d seen you in her African American Literature class, and was immediately captivated by your intelligence. After class, Shuri didn’t hesitate to pull you aside, apologize for her abruptness, and ask you out on a date. She wanted to court you properly, and, if things went well, she would propose the option of making things official.
Suddenly, you found yourself catching feelings for both women, who wanted you just as much as you wanted them. And what made it harder to choose was that they not only said how much they wanted you, they thoroughly showed it in acts of service, giving you gifts, and taking on roles that previous partners of yours had never done before, and could never compare to.
At first, you believed you had to choose, but then the thought came to you; why choose, when you could have both?
You’d since begun your plot of making them both yours, and only yours, and step one had been to slowly introduce the idea of polygamy to each woman. Shuri was more susceptible to the concept, having grown up in an environment where queer relationships and polygamy were just as normal as heterosexual relationships and monogamy were. She verbally told you that she would be more than willing to give polygamy a shot, and you were more than happy that she accepted the idea.
Then, there was Emerald, who you had to put in a bit more work when talking about polygamy. She is in no way a stranger to queerness, but polygamy as a concept was something she found a bit hard to grasp. But after explaining it a few times, using a few analogies that pertained to her and her interests to better help her understand the concept, she, too, was all in for it.
Emerald and Shuri had met before, only over the phone via Facetime and in your shared group chat. The two got along swimmingly, becoming the fastest friends and soon enough shooting flirtatious words at each other within the month after confirming that they’d each be willing to give this three-person relationship a shot. The last part of this scheme, to absolutely make sure that all three of you were willing to put in the effort to make this work, was for Shuri and Emerald to meet in person.
And today was the day that Shuri and Emerald could be coming to your apartment to do just that.
You’d taken special care in your attire today, hence the lounge set you’d chosen to put on, as well as the purple diamond studded necklace with panther claws that Shuri had gifted you a while ago, and Emerald’s favorite scent on you - sage and vanilla bean, as the scent drove the woman insane. 
A knock sounded at your door, breaking you from your daze and making you jog to the door to answer. It was none other than Shuri, who had also gotten the memo about loungewear, since this would be a pretty laid back and chill day. Sporting a simple dark gray sweat pant and hoodie set, and her hair in a fresh twist out letting her curls hand low on her forehead, and her ears sporting the same kimoyo earrings she always wore; Shuri looked so fucking attractive.
“Hi, usana,” She says, immediately reaching out to pull your frame against hers. Her arms instinctively snaking around your waist, her warm, slightly calloused hands feeling so warm against the small of your back as she pulled you in. Your arms instinctively went to wrap around her neck, embracing her back, and if it wasn’t in the doorway of your apartment, you’d stay there in that embrace forever.
“Hi, baby,” you whisper against her neck, the similar smell of sage and lavender ticking your nose, making you smile against her skin. You brung Shuri into your apartment, taking notice of the backpack she’d brought with her and ignoring the heat that trickled down your legs. Shuri knows your apartment by heart, and once she tucks her bag away in the storage closet, she makes her way to the couch with you.
“Where’s Em?” Shuri questions, noticing the missing presence in the apartment.
“She got held up with her brother on something, she should be here in, like, an hour.” You reply, to which Shuri acknowledges with a hum as she takes a seat on the couch. Her body sinks into the cushions, her legs spread, and she stretches, and you catch the tiniest glimpse of her toned tummy. The little sound she makes from stretching makes you giggle a bit, as you walk over to take your place on her lap.
Shuri’s hands are instinctive and skillful, positioning your body so you’re sitting across her lap, and her hands are on any bare skin she can get in contact with. She’s clingy, she normally gets like this after a long day of classes or doing her science projects. You go to embrace her once more, and her head finds comfort in your breasts, inhaling your scent, bringing her comfort.
“Missed you, my love,” she whispers against you.
“Missed you too, baby,” you reply, pressing a kiss to her temple.
The next hour is spent with the two of you just talking about your day. Your hand dances on Shuri’s undercut as she speaks, your nude acrylics creating soothing friction against the nape of her neck and the design in her undercut. It’s one of the mundane, completely normal things that turns her on the most, and while Shuri tries to keep her composure, you notice how her breath hitches ever so slightly, and the subtle shifts she makes under you.
There’s another knock at your door, and the only person it could be is Emerald. The anxious pool from before finds its way back into your stomach, as you quickly stand up to answer the door. Shuri follows after, albeit keeping a few feet of distance away to allow Emerald easy passage into the humble abode.
There in the doorway stands the last addition to your trio, in all her glory. She sports an oversized graphic t-shirt, baggy jeans and her signature Doc Martens. She has a chain dangling from her neck, and her curls also dance along her forehead beautifully.
Similar to Shuri, Emerald greets you with a “Hey, mamas,” as she brings you in by the waist, and you by her neck. After your embrace, you rush her inside, and you turn to see Emerald and Shuri greet each other warmly, with Em initiating a hand shake that Shuri gladly reciprocates, and it ends in the two women embracing each other.
“Man, you don’t know how good it is to finally meet you!” Emerald beams, showing off her killer smile to the young royal. “Wait- I ain’t gotta curtsy or none of that right? We cool off that?”
“It is good to see you, too, Em.” Shuri replies, her own smile, brighter than any sunrise you’ve ever witnessed, adorning her face. “And no, no curtsy needed. I’m just Shuri here.”
The anxiety that once pooled in your stomach disappeared the moment you saw them embrace each other. The two women took their positions on your couch (Emerald had also discarded the backpack she brought in your storage closet, and again, the heat that pooled in your core came back, more intense than before), and the two immediately made space for you between them.
“Ain’t you comin’ to sit, ma?” Emerald asked.
You shook your head, bringing the two confusion. “As much as I’d love to be in between my two favorite people - dinner isn’t gonna cook itself.” you replied, instead making your way into the kitchen, “But please, talk, get to know each other! I’m not even here!”
Your little chime brings laughter from both Emerald and Shuri, and they do as you wish, conversating amongst themselves and entertaining each other while you focus on dinner.
It’s sometime in the evening, determined by the way the pretty golden beams of the setting sun shine into your apartment through the large floor to ceiling bay windows. 
Emerald had gone to fetch your bottle of wine from the kitchen, planting a quick kiss to your forehead and an even quicker swat at your butt, causing you to gasp in surprise. You shoo her out of the kitchen as she grabs two wine glasses for her and Shuri. As she approaches the couch once more, she catches sight of the way the sun does wonders to Shuri’s skin, making glow effortlessly, and damn, Emerald finds herself enraptured by this princess. And Shuri takes note of it, a small smirk plastering itself on her face. 
“Something catch your eye, my gem?” Shuri asks innocently, using the nickname she had given to Emerald the moment the other became comfortable with the concept of polygamy, using it as a stepping stone to further the attraction.
Emerald scrunches her nose as she places a glass in front of Shuri, pouring the red alcoholic beverage into it, as she replies, “Shut up, princess.”
Her reply gains a chuckle from Shuri, who takes a sip of the wine when Emerald finishes pouring. She immediately recognizes the taste as the fruity bitterness slips down her throat, “Barefoot?”
“Aww, you know your liquor, aye?” Emerald sings, pouring her own class.
“It's the only thing I can keep down,” Shuri explains, “anything other than wine and I go bat-shit crazy. Learned that at my first college party.”
“Don’t tell me they gave you Henny right off the bat? No chaser?”
“Man, they didn’t even give me a warning of what would happen!” Of course, Shuri’s experience was not a laughable one, but the way she spoke of it brought a rumble of laughter from the other brown skinned woman.
“They did you wrong, princess. Don’t worry though, I ain’t gon’ set you up like that,” Emerald hums, “Besides wine, I only fucks with light liquor anyway, so that dark shit don’t even be up my alley.”
Shuri rests back on the couch as she takes in Emerald’s side profile. The sun that once shone on her skin now hit Emerald’s beautifully. The hoop earrings that hung from her ears, her fresh, shiny curls, her sharp jawline - Shuri couldn’t help but feel something warm pool into her stomach from the sight of such a beautiful woman. It’s a miracle she’s even able to be here now - her schedule had been hectic as of late, which is why the meeting between the two had been postponed until now - but she’s now grateful to be in the presence of both the women she loved.
“You look beautiful, Emerald,” Shuri suddenly blurts out, albeit confidently and not ashamed in the slightest. It catches Emerald off guard, not used to verbally hearing Shuri’s straightforwardness, but nonetheless, it excites her.
“You not bad lookin’ yourself, ‘ri,” Emerald replies, but she’d be lying if she said there wasn’t heat creeping up her neck from the sudden compliment. “Aye, do you smoke?”
“Not really, no,” Shuri replied, “I’ve only ever gotten contact high, thanks to that one in there,” she continued, gesturing to your figure in the kitchen, still cooking.
“You wanna? I got a couple of blunts on me.” Emerald offers. Shuri takes a moment to think, before shrugging her shoulders in indifference. “Wouldn’t hurt, I don’t think.”
With that confirmation, Emerald fishes out a blunt from her front pocket, as well as a lighter, and with swiftness and expertise, she lights the brown roll up and takes a pull from it. Soon after it leaves her lips, she emits a puff of smoke from them. Shuri watches intently, more so the other woman’s lips than the actions she took to pull the intoxicating smoke from the blunt.
“Aight, so, it's simple shit,” Emerald begins, turning her body to face Shuri, and the princess does the same, “you just put to your lips and inhale. Don't do it too deep, though, just do it a lil’ bit, and once you feel like you got enough, you just blow out. Aight?”
Shuri nodded in confirmations, as Emerald handed Shuri the blunt. Shuri took it, examining the roll quizzingly, before raising it up to her lips and doing as she was instructed. Her lungs took a slight burn from the intake of smoke, and when she released it from behind her lips, a cough also escaped as a form of relief to her stinging lungs.
“Aye, good job, princess!” Emerald praised, raising a hand to pat Shuri’s back to aid in her slight coughing fit. She took the blunt from Shuri’s hand, seeing that she may be good for another few puffs before it was handed back to her.
“Why did it taste fruity?” Shuri inquires, intrigued by the taste of grape being left on her lips.
“Oh, the roll is flavored. This is white grape.” Emerald explains as she takes another pull of the blunt.
Shuri could feel the effects of the cannabis already taking hold, or at least, feel the smoke beginning to muddle her mind. It was an interesting feeling, made her feel light and airy, and oddly clingy. The next couple of pulls from Shuri had her fishing for Emerald’s hand to hold, of which the other woman found adorable and endearing. It reminded her of the first time she got high with you, and how incredibly touchy and clingy you were, desperate for her touch. The first night you got high together was forever emblazoned in Emerald’s mind.
“You good, princess?” Emerald asked, to which Shuri nodded, her voice becoming non-existent as the cannabis took control over her mind. She now laid her head against the couch, still fiddling with Emerald’s hand, and an idea came to Emerald’s mind. “Sit up for me, baby.”
Shuri obliged eagerly, curious to what Emerald was doing. The smoker took a deep pull from the blunt, took Shuri gently by the throat, and brought the princess’s face closer to hers. Slowly, Emerald blew the stream of smoke right into Shuri’s lips, which had already formed an ‘o’ shape to receive it. Their lips were agonizingly close, and if it wasn’t for Emerald’s hand keeping her in place, Shuri would have leaned in to kiss Emerald.
Shuri withstood the smoke, feeling her mind becoming even more muddled by the drug. And as if her mind had been read, Emerald leaned in and connected her soft lips onto Shuri’s. Immediately, the princess melted into it, following Emerald’s guiding hand.
Emerald is the first to pull away, a smirk gracing her lips once she sees just how hooked Shuri is.
“Fuck, that was hot,” Emerald mutters, and Shuri couldn’t agree more.
A voice - your voice - calls from the kitchen, your tone amused and slightly worried by Emerald’s antics. “Are you done corrupting my baby? The food is almost ready.”
“We comin’, we comin’,!” Emerald says back, putting out her blunt and setting it on the ashtray on your coffee table, moving to stand up. Now that her mind isn't consumed with how pretty Shuri looks high and intaking the smoke from the shotgun, she notices that the princess is a bit too quiet for her liking. Giving Shuri’s figure a once over, Emerald’s expert eyes ntoice the slight tremble that’s overtaking Shuri’s body.
“A-Are you my hands suppose to be shaking, Emerald?” 
“Shit-”
“Em, what’s wrong?”
Emerald is no stranger to green outs, witnessing and experiencing them alike, but the idea that she was too fast and too much for the princess to handle made a pang of guilt spring in her chest.
“Nothin’! Bring Shuri a glass of water, bae!”
Perplexed, you complied, reaching into the fridge for a bottle water and bringing it to the couch where Emerald and Shuri had made themselves at home, and you soon saw why Emerald requested the clear beverege.
“What the hell- Did you green her out?!”
“It was an accident, I swear!”
It takes a split second for you to take Emerald’s previous spot on the couch, immediately going into nurturing mode and examining the extent of Shuri’s trembles. It’s only her hands and legs that are shaking, not violently but also not slightly either.
“Em, help me take her sweatshirt off, she’s sweating,” you instruct, and in another swift motion, Emerald takes a seat behind Shuri on the couch. With care you strip the princess of her sweatshirt, leaving her in her black sports bra, her skin damn with a thin layer of sweat.
“Hey, baby, look at me,” you whisper softly to Shuri, who’s blown out eyes find yours with ease despite her current state, “you’re alright, okay? Just take some deep breaths, and drink this-” your hand gently pushes the small bottle of water into her own hands, which seemed to have calmed down from their light tremors, “-and I’ll bring you something to eat, okay?”
Shuri nods, taking in your words, though her mind is too foggy to comprehend much of anything else. Emerald embraces her from behind, and Shuri graciously finds comfort in leaning back into Emerald’s chest. The cotton fabric of her shirt is cool and refreshing against Shuri’s heated skin. As you stepped away to make your two lovers their plates, Emerald assists in bringing the water to Shuri’s lips to drink. The woman downed the liquid feverishly, and returns to her previous behavior of reaching for Emerald’s hand to ground her.
Once the bottle is done and discarded, Shuri goes to her wrist, pulling off the bracelet Emerald had been eying for its simple beauty. The princess places the beads on her chest, and before Emerald has a chance to ask what she’s doing, Shuri speakds;
“Griot, read me my vitals, please.” 
“Hello, princess.” a male voice sounds out, spiraling Emerald further into confusion.
“Hol’ on, is your bracelet talkin’-?”
“Your blood pressure is 80/120. Your heart rate is 102 beats per minute, slightly higher than your average 90 beats per minute. All organ and artery functions are good. You seem to be experiencing Tetrahydrocannabinol (THC) overdose, specifically due to a potent strand of cannabis known as Indica. This can cause nausea, abdominal pain, and dehydration. Would you like me to recommend foods and beverages to counteract the Tetrahydrocannabinol (THC) overdose?”
“No, that is all, thank you-”
“Wait, wait, wait,” Emerald’s voice interjects, “your bracelet just fucking talked-!”
In Emerald’s astonishment, Shuri directs the AI to introduce itself to Emerald, as she’s still a bit far gone in her mind to fully concentrate on explaining her invention.
“Hello. May I register your name into my memory stores, so I know how to address you?”
“Uh….Em..-Emerald Haywood?”
“Hello ‘Em’. Is it alright if I address you as such?”
“Uh…sure?”
“Okay, Em. My name is Griot. I am an artificial intelligence designed by and to assist Princess Shuri in her scientific and engineering endeavors. My primary functions outside of laboratory duties are to read the Princess her daily vitals, generate answers to the Princess’s questions based on searches through the World Wide Web, and set and read out reminders for the Princess throughout her day.”
Emerald is too shocked to speak - never in her life had she encountered a piece of technology so advanced. She knew that Shuri was a pretty important person, and a literal genius, so it’s no surprise she would come in contact with one of her creations, but nothing like this ever crossed her mind.
“Thank you for the vital read, Griot,” you say, as you come from the kitchen holding two plates of food in your hand. You set them on the coffee table, one for each woman.
“Hello Ms. (Y/N). You are welcome for the vital read.”
“Does Shuri have any important messages from home?”
The AI beeps, stalls for a second, before responding, “No new messages, Ms. (Y/N).”
“Good, you can go on standby, then. We’ll take care of Shuri’s green out.”
The AI bids you farewell and beeps off, and Shuri sends you a look that says ‘thank you’ in reference to you checking her messages, something she’d been bad on doing as of late. You turn to Emerald’ who is still staring at the silver beads resting on her partners chest, then shoots a look back up to you.
“She got a talkin’ bracelet-”
“They’re called kimoyo beads, babe. And it’s an AI installed in it-”
“Do you got a talkin’ bracelet I don't know about?!”
You shake your head, instead bringing attention to a pair of earrings similar to Shuri’s. “I have earrings instead. They’re more discreet this way.”
“....so when can I get a talkin’ bracelet, or earrings, or whatever?”
“Oh my god, Em, just help Shuri eat something so the THC don’t eat away at her more than it already has.”
At that, Shuri makes a move to sit up on her own, slow and albeit a bit wobbly, still coming down from the unpleasant experience from the THC overdose. “I’m-I’m okay. I can eat on my own….I think.”
After you’ve gotten your food, the next hour is spent with Emerald and you practically doting on the princess as she recovers miraculously fast from her green out. Perhaps it is due to the vibranium herbal stores in the kimoyo beads, of which would have been released onto the skin and penetrate the surface level when Shuri’s body began displaying signals of distress. Or, it could be the enhancement the heart-shaped herb gave Shuri’s immune system when ingested long ago. The cause of her recovery didn’t matter as much as the fact that she was better, and was able to function without tremors disrupting her movements.
The three of you ate in peace while a movie played - Emerald’s commentary being more of the star of the show than the actual characters in the movie. In that time, you were able to take in both women in all their glory. Their warm, sun kissed skin which now glowed from the warm white light your LED’s were shining, the way they were so trained on the television, the way they interacted with each other. You couldn’t believe that earlier you had any doubts of the two not getting along once they’d met each other in person. If anything, they seemed like they’d already known each other their whole lives.
Once dinner was finished and another round of wine was shared, you took the dirty dishes in the kitchen and prepared to clean up what little mess was left from your cooking. Emerald watched your figure shrink away into the kitchen area, thinking of something.
“Hey, princess,” she calls to the other woman, who responds with a hum, as her lips were currently occupied with the red alcoholic beverage in her cup.
“You’re around here more, right? Cuz you go to the same college bae-bae does right?” Emerald asks, using her nickname for you. Shuri nods, confirming Emerald’s suspicions with another hum.
“So have y’all, like, fucked recently?”
The question takes Shuri off guard, but gets her to think as well. After a moment, the princess shakes her head. “I think the last time we were intimate was…a month ago?”
“Damn, a month?”
“Yes - but I believe she had a lot of important projects coming up for that one photography class of hers.”
“Hm. Interesting.”
Emerald peers over her shoulder to take a glance at you, still scrubbing away in the kitchen. Shuri follows her gaze, slowly catching on to what Emerald was insinuating.
“And you two? How long has it been, I mean?”
“Shit, probably like a month and a half. I been dealing with shit with my brother, but normally she goes crazy if she don’t get it, y’know?”
“Indeed, I do know. The longest we’ve ever gone without sex would have been two weeks. I was away at home, and when I came back…for lack of better words, she was quite feral.”
There’s another pause, and Shuri and Emerald share a look. 
“You don’t think…it was deliberate, her making us wait this long?”
“I think that she thinks shit is sweet, tryna play us like this.”
Emerald takes a swig of wine from her glass, swirling the red liquid inside. Then, abruptly, she stops. A lightbulb goes off in her head, and it’s evident by the smirk that grows on her lips. Shuri catches this, and has an idea of what Emerald’s mind is already concocting.
“What’re you planning, my gem?” Shuri questions with a knowing look, a crooked smile of anticipation gracing her lips.
“Just thinkin’...we should give her what she wants…” Emerald replies, placing her glass back on the coffee table, her smirk increasing, “...or not.”
Shuri’s eyebrows raise, though not with surprise; more out of anticipation…excitement. Admittedly, as soon as she had caught onto what Em was insinuating, she had felt that bud of excitement slowly unfurl in her stomach, only furthered by the attraction she had quickly grown towards Em and the attraction she already had for you. 
“Oh, we’ll give her something. Who knew our girl could be so schemeful?”
The sound of the sink turning off interrupts Em before she canspeak. They both hear you rummaging around, tidying up whatever you had used before presumably joining them. Em takes the chance to connect her gaze with Shuri’s, nodding subtly to the storage closet where they both had placed their bags…the bags that contained the items that would surely make you think twice about doing something like this again.
Shuri, her smile widening, stands and quietly makes her way over, opening it and grabbing both bags. Ever since she had seen Em walk in and deposit the bag in your storage, a small part of her had been constantly thinking about what could be in; now, her heart speeds up slightly at the thought of finding out soon enough.
The silence in the other room makes you pause, as only a few seconds ago you had heard their voices, slightly drowned out by the running water, but there nonetheless. Now…it was silent. Almost abruptly so.
You quickly wipe your hands on the nearest towel before turning and making your way back into the main room, your eyes instantly flickering between your two favorite women. The sight that you meet makes you pause in your tracks, your heart seeming to know what was going before you did as it speeds up slightly.
“Is everything okay?”
Shuri sets the bags her and Em brought on the ground, her gaze landing on you afterwards. There’s a knowing look in her eye paired with something you could only liken to the look she adopted whenever you did something that amused her or made her proud. Your body reacted on its own, the same ball of heat from earlier slowly gaining size where it rested in your core. Though, as soon as you turn your gaze to Em, that heat turns into something you can just barely contain.
Her eyes narrow as she gazes at you from her spot on the couch, the dark pools of brown harboring a look that you recognize immediately.
“You think you slick, don’t you?”.
The question paired with the smug tone in Em’s voice has your body clenching around nothing, the ball of eat moving to envelop your entire body. The next breath you take in is shaky as your eyes move to Shuri. She only cocks her head, her eyes appraising you from where she stood. 
“Em, baby, what are you talking about-”
Emerald sets her wine glass down with a sigh, leaning forward and pulling herself to the edge of her seat. Her eyes connect with yours with an intensity that’s so strong that it practically has you shaking as she motions for you to walk closer. It's so intense and so heady that you don’t realize you’re being surrounded until you feel a solid line of heat against your back, effectively trapping you in front of Em’s sitting form in front of you. 
A small gasp leaves your mouth as Shuri’s hands snake around your waist. One is pressed open-palmed against your stomach, holding you in place, while the other raises and presses right against the space beneath your breasts. Her hands are gentle, but firm enough to tell you that you aren’t going anywhere unless she lets you. Her hands don’t move an inch as she lowers her head, placing a kiss against the shell of your hair only to continue placing them down the length of your neck. Her actions make your eyes flutter slightly, every other breath of yours hitched and shaky.
“Don’t play that. You know exactly what we talkin’ about- tryna play us like we wouldn’t figure it out.” There's a hint of authority in Em’s tone as she speaks, and you’re no stranger to it, as you had heard it more than once. But if it isn’t her voice and her words that make the insides of your thighs slick with arousal, then its the way she suddenly grabs your hips and pulls you down, right onto the apex of her thigh. The feeling of her thigh against your clothed core is consuming enough to make you shiver, your hands raising and landing on her shoulder to give yourself more leverage. 
“Keeping us away from you…makin’ up those excuses ‘bout being busy…and then gettin’ us to come here?” Every sentence is emphasized by her hands rocking your hips with a precision that's almost deadly. With every rock, the sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs brushes perfectly against hers, making you curse. 
“Thought you were doin’ somethin, huh?”
Shuri’s hands had shifted as you straddled Em’s leg, one raising to cup the underside of your jaw while the other slipped deftly under the cropped tank top adorning your top half. She cupped one of your bra-clad breasts, her thumb rubbing over the underside of it. The waves of pleasure emitting from your top and bottom half makes your eyes flutter until they close, your head falling back slightly to rest on Shuri’s chest.
“We’ll give you what you want, what you schemed so hard for…”
Shuri’s voice is almost raspy as she speaks into your ear, her lips brushing against your skin. The hand placed on your jaw reaches around until her slender fingers cover the expanse of your neck. Her hand presses into the diamond and vibranium encrusted necklace she had given you, the points of the panther claws digging slightly into your skin and only adding on another layer of pleasure. 
EM’s hands tighten, increasing the speed with which she maneuvers your hips until you’re panting slightly, your throat bobbing with each breath under Shuri’s hand. 
“But we’ll do it on our terms, now.”
Her sentence is almost close to a reprimand, making your eyes snap open right as Em’s hands stop, holding you in place. The pleasure that had been building quickly comes to a stand still, making a whine leave your mouth as you try rocking your hips once more. Em’s hands are unrelenting in their strength, not letting you move an inch as she stares up at you, a smirk slowly raising the corner of her mouth.
Any and all words you think of die on the tip of your tongue as Shuri’s hands pull you backwards, prompting you to stand on your feet once more. Your core throbbed as the pressure made by Em’s thigh disappeared.
Emerald watches as Shuri pulls you against her, one hand still on your neck while the other is placed on your hip. With a sound of frustration in your ear, Shuri quickly reaches for the cardigan hanging off your shoulders, pulling it until she all but rips it off your frame, and leaving you in the matching cotton shorts and cropped tank top.
“An entire month of nothing, and now you want to act shy. Why is that, usana? Hm?”
Emerald leans forward, blindly reaching for one of the bags that had been brought out, and the mere sight of her reaching in before pulling out the strap you had grown very comfortable with has your thighs clenching together and a whine crawling up your throat. It makes itself known as you breathlessly speak, 
“Please. I just wanted-”
“We know what you want.”
Her movements are quick as her fingers wrap beneath the necklace adorning your neck, tightening it slightly. Every coherent thought of yours flies out of the window as Shuri’s hand suddenly delves beneath the waistband of your shorts, cupping your clothed core. The sudden sensation makes you jump, your ass pressing firmly into the front of her body as you bend over slightly. 
“Shit-!” 
She doesn’t give you time to recover or even catch your breath before her fingers are moving in tight circles over your clit, her other arm pulling you up until your back is pressed against her chest.
The feeling of Shuri’s fingers working you over while the other gently squeezes your neck makes your eyes roll back in pleasure, a drawn out moan leaving your lips. Her arm across your chest is strong enough to keep you standing on your shaky legs, as with each pass of her skilled fingers across the most sensitive part of you makes it harder to function. 
It makes a tightness build in the pit of your stomach, one that only threatens to send out waves of pure pleasure and make you lose your bearings. One hand lands on her wrist where it disappears beneath your shorts, fingers wrapping around it while you soundlessly plead for her to keep going, while the other raises and grabs the back of her neck.
You can feel it building, the urge to let go and let Shuri’s hand alone work you through the orgasm cresting like a wave over your consciousness. Your mouth falls open and your breaths come quicker, pleas being mingled in with small cries…
And then Shuri wrenches her hand away, and the sound that leaves your mouth is borderline mournful as your orgasm is stopped abruptly. 
Maybe you should’ve thought more about your little scheme and what would happen if they found out. You had been banking on them both being too worked up after a month or so to punish you like this, but that was obviously a mistake. 
“Shuri, please…”
“You waited an entire month for this moment…I think you can wait a little longer.”
Her words make a whimper leave your mouth because…how much longer would you have to wait?
“Which one you want, princess?”
It's the sound of mischievousness and anticipation in Em’s honey smooth voice that makes your eyes snap open…and its the sight of the strap dangling from one hand while her go-to vibrator is in the other that makes your pussy clench around nothing. 
This is it, this is how you die.
Em had at some point taken off her shirt and her pants, leaving her in a sports bra and a pair of boxers that hugged her hips. You swallow hard as she walks towards you, the toys in her hands taunting you with how much pleasure and punishment they could bring. 
“I want something that’ll make her beg.”
Shuri’s words are emphasized by her hands turning you around before pushing you onto the couch, her and Em’s eyes appraising you as you lean back.
You wanted to tell them to hurry up and get on with it. You had been waiting for an entire month, albeit by your own willingness; but that entire month had been filled with you having to physically restrain yourself from jumping them whenever you saw them.
You weren’t in any position to make demands, though. You were completely and utterly at the mercy of both of your lovers…and it made you nervous and excited. 
“We gon make her beg, alright.”
Sucking your bottom lip into your mouth, you watch with hooded eyes as Em drops the vibrator in its protective case on the table. She wraps her arms around Shuri’s waist from behind, her eyes holding yours as she lowers her lips to press a lingering, open mouthed kiss to where Shuri’s neck and shoulder meet. 
Her hands spread Shuri’s legs slightly before hooking into the waistband of her sweatpants and pulling them down, all while continuing to press her lips against any skin she could reach. The sight of Shuri’s head falling back against Em’s shoulder, her strong jawline in perfect view as it clenches makes your hand act on its own accord. It slides down, running over your breasts and the tips of your hardened nipples before continuing its path to your leaking pussy. The warning in Em’s eyes makes your actions halt, your eyes instantly focusing on the sight of her hands skillfully wrapping the buckles around Shuri’s thighs before fastening them in the back. Her hand picks up a bottle that had been placed on the table, opening it and squeezing a generous amount of the lube into her hand.
“Look at her, ‘Ri.” 
Shuri’s eyes follow Em’s words, connecting with yours right as Em’s hand closes over the shaft of the silicone dildo hanging between Shuri’s legs. She glides her hand up and down the length of it as the corner of her lips curve into a smile you know all too well; one that says she knows exactly what's about to happen but you don’t. 
“Look how needy she is...after a month of playin, now she wanna act impatient.” 
It only takes a few steps for Em to step around Shuri and make her way around the couch you’re on, your eyes following her until they physically can’t anymore. You crane your neck to try and get a glimpse of where she disappeared behind you, but your attention is quickly pulled back when you feel your necklace being grabbed. 
Shuri’s eyes are hard when you look back, and she’s closer than she had been mere seconds ago. You rarely forget about the Black Panther’s abilities she had adopted, but her speed, agility, and endurance whenever you two fucked had always served as a good reminder. 
“Take these off before I rip them off.” Her hands fist into the material of the cotton shorts adorning your bottom half, and you eagerly and quickly move to follow her directions, knowing full well that she could. 
Your hips lift off of the couch and your hands scramble to pull them off, something you’ve been waiting to do ever since they both showed up, but your movements aren’t fast enough for the princess; that much is obvious in the way she growls before grabbing your hips, pulling them to the edge of the couch and quickly wrenching your shorts and underwear down. 
The startled yelp that leaves your mouth quickly turns into a gasp as the air hits your pussy, the slickness making the air colder than it is as Shuri pushes your legs further apart. The sound of your folds separating with a squelch has a hissed breath leaving Shuri’s mouth, her eyes focusing on the part of you that she loved to bury her face into; the part of you that fed her when she was thirsting for you and gave her life while simultaneously making her want to stay until she could no longer breathe. 
“How’s our girl looking, ‘Ri?”
Em’s question comes right before her hands abruptly pull your shirt up and reach beneath the cups of your bra, replacing them with her cold, firm hands. In a single motion, she has them spilling out, the straps of your bra falling down your shoulders. She rolls them in the palms of her hands, your back arching as her fingers tweak your nipples, rolling them between her fingers and gently pulling on them.
Shuri presses the pad of her thumb right onto your clit, the pressure making you jerk slightly. She drags it down between your folds, collecting the slick that’s gathered and just spreading it more, taking special care to spread it around your entrance. Your eyes threaten to close at her actions, your jaw becoming slack as heavy breaths leave your mouth; but you’re hellbent on watching everything they do to you. You had been waiting for this moment; you’d be damned if you didn't see everything.
Shuri’s voice is rough but proud as she answers Em’s question. She slows her motions, drawing out the sounds that come from her thumb swirling through your folds.
“She’s practically dripping, and its all for us.”
“And we not wasting a drop of it, are we?”
Instead of answering, Shuri separates her thumb from your clit before lifting it. Before she can get far, Em’s hand is reaching forward to grab it, lowering her head until she can wrap her lips around Shuri’s thumb. She’s positioned right over you, giving you the perfect view of how jaw works as she swirls her tongue around Shuri’s fingers, collecting every inch of your arousal she could. 
Em hums as she pulls back, the sound coming from low in her throat and shooting straight to your center. 
“Oh, we not wastin’ that.”
Shuri lets go of your necklace, but its only to grab the backs of your knees and hike them into the air. She places a knee on the edge of the couch, pushing your knees towards your ears and just about folding you in half. As if they had communicated without speaking, Em’s hands replaced Shuri’s, keeping your legs suspended.
Needless to say, your flexibility had improved greatly after fucking around with Emerald Haywood and Shuri.
The position has your pussy bared to Shuri in its entirety, clenching around nothing in anticipation for the slight burn of being stretched. 
Shuri’s eyes take it all in, dark and half lidded as if intoxicated from the sight, the smell, and the sound alone. 
“What's your safe word?”
You can barely get the word out, your breath trembling. Her question only tells you that what's about to happen to you may warrant a safe word. It isn’t surprising, as it was a regular occurrence for both of them to ask for your safe word in separate settings…but being reminded of it while being in the clutches of both Emerald and Shuri had you trembling. 
You have the nerve to think that she’ll continue even without you answering the question, but when her eyes, questioning and demanding at the same time, raise and meet yours…you know that it's in your better interest to answer.
“B-button.”
The word is barely out of your mouth before Shuri is wrapping a hand around the dildo and lining it up at your entrance, her eyes not straying from yours for a second. 
“You good, ‘bae?”
Em’s voice is soft as she whispers into your ear, placing a kiss on your earlobe where your kimoyo earring sits. She shifts so that the crook of her elbow holds your leg, freeing her hand and letting it go back to your breast. She firmly cups your breast in one hand, her fingers rubbing over your nipple slowly. You can only nod in silence, your lips parting and your breath leaving you quickly. Shuri’s eyes meet Em’s as she braces her hands against the back of the couch. 
A cry tears from your throat as Shuri snaps her hips forward, burying herself until the base of the strap brushes slightly against your skin. The burn is familiar, as well is the feeling of being stretched close to your breaking point…but it's welcomed.
There’s a slight burn in your legs as they start shaking already, but you don’t have to worry about them moving.
“Open your eyes, babygirl.”
“Look at me.”
Both Em and Shuri’s voices ring out at the same time and your eyes open, not wanting to disobey either one of them. You hadn’t even noticed that they had closed, too engrossed in the feeling of Shuri firmly situated between your walls while Em’s hands worked you over, adding a layer of pleasure that penetrated your entire consciousness.
Your lips move soundlessly, your breath being stolen by the waves of pleasure wracking your body and lighting every nerve of yours on fire. You want to beg Shuri to just move- you want to feel the length of her hitting every spot it could reach inside you…but she just stays still, buried fully inside of you. 
“Use your words, mamas.”
Emerald’s voice reminds you that you answer to both of them tonight, and its with great difficulty that you find your voice.
“I want you. Fuck, use me. Use me, use me-”
That was evidently all Shuri needed to hear. 
Her fingers close around the necklace she gifted you, pulling you forward just enough for you to have the perfect view of her disappearing into you before pulling out and slamming back in. Every stroke makes you jerk slightly, though you can’t go far due to both of their grips on you. 
The desperation and lust in your voice makes a quick breath leave Em, her own pussy throbbing slightly as she watches her princess drill into her babygirl. She can hear her own breaths, slightly louder than usual, as she quickly raises her fingers to her mouth, quickly swiping her tongue over them.
She only has to lean forward slightly to reach what she’s been wanting to touch all day. 
Your legs threaten to close as her fingers land on your clit, but Shuri’s hand grabbing your ankle stops that from happening. In doing so, it only allows her to hit a different angle…a different spot; one that has black spots entering your vision.
Incoherent words leave your mouth at the overstimulation that's quickly building, forming a ball of heat in your stomach. It’s almost too much, having that one spot hit over and over, relentlessly, while Em worships your clit with only her fingers. 
“Oooh, baby. I’m bout…I can’t. Em, please, I can’t hold it…”
Your words are slurred as your head lolls back. It lands in the crook of Em’s neck and she takes the chance to wrap her slender fingers around your jaw, tilting your head back more to where she can whisper directly into your ear. Her breath is hot as it brushes against your skin, and the small sensation makes another whine leave your throat.
“Yes, you can. Take it. Take it, babygirl.”
Her words only push you closer to the edge, making your moans rise in volume until…well, until you’re sure you’ll have to apologize to your neighbors in the morning. 
There are a multitude of sounds echoing through the space around you; the sound of Shuri’s thighs slapping against your ass, the soft squelching that comes from her strap entering your pussy, her heavy breaths that she emphasizes each stroke with, Em’s whispered words that alternated between demands and words of praise. 
Shuri can’t stop the sounds of pure lust from leaving her own lips as she drills into you. Her eyes rake down your body, lingering on the way your bare chest heaves and how the thin layer of sweat reflects the lights above you. They zero in on the way Em’s fingers rub relentlessly at your clit, slipping slightly because of how wet you are.
They zero in on how your hand lands on the back of Em’s neck, your acrylics digging slightly into her skin to hold her closer…and they zero in on the look of pure adoration, love, and lust in your half-lidded eyes as you look at her.
She can tell by the way you’re mumbling incoherently, tears gathering in the corners of your eyes, that your orgasm is close to washing completely over you. While she loves to hear you whimper and plead for sweet release, knowing that she had you right under her thumb, she has to admit that the sight of you cumming is a sight that she’ll never grow tired of. Its the desire to see exactly that which makes her push your leg back further, opening you up even more and drilling almost impossibly deeper. 
“Shuri, ‘m bout to cum. Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop-”
“You gon cum? Hm?”
Em’s fingers speed up, enough to make your bottom half tremble with how fast her motions are. 
“Didn’t we say you have to beg for it?”
Shuri’s words don’t affect her motions at all; if anything, they only intensify. It makes the cry that had slowly been building in the base of your throat leave your mouth, hoarse and full of pleasure.
“Please! Please, can I cum- please, let me, I can’t-”
There are tears leaking from the corner of your eyes as they shut tightly, making you miss the look shared between Emerald and Shuri. 
Its easy for the both of them to share in a feeling of desire, as they both harbored a need to take care of you…and to fuck you so well you wouldn’t be able to remember your own name. 
They communicated silently, only talking to you after they both gave subtle nods to each other. 
“Let go. Let go, usana.”
Almost immediately, your orgasm washes over you, stealing your breath and making your body lock up. Your back arches off of the couch as your hand scrambles to grab something, eventually landing on Shuri’s wrist. It feels like it lasts for a few minutes, at least, and the entire time, you have to focus on not passing out. Its so intense that you can barely hear both Shuri and Em as they talk you through it. 
You can feel Shuri as she continues to slowly pump into you, every detail on the strap rubbing deliciously against your walls, and you can still feel Em as she slows her movements down, only slightly, as she continues rubbing at your overstimulated clit.
It’s only after your body sags against the couch once again, breaths heavy and hard to control, that they both stop their movements. Shuri slowly slides out of you, making a small noise leave your mouth at the empty feeling that follows. 
She lowers herself onto the couch beside you, her eyes scanning your face for any sign of discomfort or dissatisfaction only to find nothing but something she would liken to ecstasy. 
Em slowly brings her fingers to a stop, reveling in how slick they are, and reveling in the fact that it all belonged to you. She lets her wet fingers brush over any skin they come across as she drags her hand up your sweat covered body before gently lowering your legs . She uses the same hand to turn your face towards hers, your eyes fluttering as you tried to find her through your blurry vision.
“You good, ‘ma?”
You can only nod, an affirming tone escaping your throat. Ignoring the fact that your limbs are so heavy you can’t exactly move them yet and the realization that your legs will most definitely be nonfunctional tomorrow, you’d say that you were in a blissful state. 
“How is she?”
Your vision clears just enough for you to see the satisfied smile on Em’s face as she looks at you, and it makes a groggy, tired grin appear on your face. She leans in, connecting her lips with yours for a few seconds before pulling back and planting another kiss on your forehead.
“She’s good. A lil out of it…but she’s good.”
‘Out of it’ is probably an understatement.
A soft laugh leaves Shuri’s mouth as her hand fixes your necklace around your neck, her fingers running gently over the small marks the necklace made in your skin. The sensation makes your head loll to the side to find her eyes, and when you do, her smile widens.
“What do you need, usana?”
You were coherent enough to recognize both of their questions as the same ones they asked after fucking you separately. The realization that you really had the best of both worlds within this relationship made your grin widen and made your heart soar. 
“I’m okay. Just…stay here, both of you.” 
That was something they both were eager to do, and it was evident in their actions. Shuri reaches down, grabbing her discarded sweatshirt before helping you sit up and pull it over your body. Em stands, making her way to the bathroom and grabbing a washcloth on the way only to quickly come back with it soaked in warm water. 
She sits on the other side of you, taking notice of how quickly Shuri had unfastened the strap and set it to the side. The princess looks up and at Em, a fond and loving look on her face that’s undoubtedly a result of seeing the dopey smile on your face. Em shakes her head in amusement as she lowers herself onto the couch before using the wash cloth and cleaning between your legs. The feeling makes you jump slightly as it brushes against your sensitive bundle of nerves, Em gently reassuring you that she’s basically done before she even started.
The wash cloth is set somewhere, but you can only focus on the feeling of pure relaxation that's taking over your limbs, making a small yawn escape your mouth and your eyes close. 
Your limbs are maneuvered by two sets of hands until you’re laying on someone’s chest, your body pressing along the line of theirs with their arm around your shoulders. The light scent of sage and lavender tells you that you’re laying on top of Shuri, and you look forward to the feeling of Em joining you, but a few seconds pass without that happening. 
“How the hell we all gon fit on this couch?”
“We’ll figure it out. Come, my gem. You know you want to join.”
There’s a teasing tone in Shuri’s voice as she addresses Em, and you can feel one of her arms lift to presumably beckon her closer. Without even lifting your head, you reach out blindly until you grab onto her hand. You pull until her legs hit the couch, and only then do you scoot until you’re pressed against the back of the couch, making room for her to join.
“If I fall, I’m gettin on both of y’all’s asses.”
Your lips curve into a smile at her words and at the feeling of the couch dipping further. An arm is thrown around your waist, and the feeling of comfort intensifies as you’re embraced by the two people who hold your heart between them. 
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Shuri loves the early morning sunrise that your studio apartment gets in the morning. The floor to ceiling windows does wonders for allowing natural lighting into your space, and she’s found herself sitting in the space right in front of the clear glass, where the wooden floor of the main room meets the little one-two steps that lead into the tiled kitchen area. It’s where the light shines the brightest, where the heat of the suns beams is strongest. 
Shuri communes with herself here, whenever she visits you. Early in the morning while you're still fast asleep, curled in your blankets and pillows just like you were now, Shuri takes the time to sneak away into the warm little spot on the floor, to meditate, to ground herself, to just think.
But sometimes, Shuri thinks too much.
She thinks of everything, and she thinks of nothing. Millions of thoughts plague her mind every day and every night, even protruding into her dreams, on the rare occasions she does have. It’s only in your arms that the thoughts quiet down, and the voices are held at bay, but they aren’t kept away for long. Because at some point, she’ll have to face them again, and they will consume her, and you aren’t always in her corner when she needs you to take them away.
So, she’s learned to sit with them. Let them overwhelm her brain like static. Eventually, they calm down, and she can breathe again. And it's mornings like these, where she sits in the glow of the morning sun, where the thoughts aren’t so loud, and Shuri’s mind is at ease, that she enjoys the most.
“What’chu doin’ up this early, princess?”
Her voice comes first - rich, smooth, slightly raspy from sleep, and for a moment. It’s addictive, especially now that she’s had the pleasure of hearing it in person, and not from her holographic screen next to her bed from the three of you falling asleep on call together.
Then, comes the gentle touch of her hand - short french-tipped nails brush against Shuri’s cheek and the warmth of her open palm causes the princess’s head to lean into it. She stands behind Shuri, and it takes all of her to not lean back into the other woman’s legs.
“Nothing, my gem,” Shuri assures Emerald, as she opens her eyes, greeted by the reflection of her lover caressing her face lovingly, “just thinking.”
Emerald is a sight to see in the morning. Sweats that hang dangerously low on her hips revealing the band of her boxers that are snug on her pelvis, and a loose cropped shirt that hangs off one shoulder. Her hair hangs low, curls obscuring her eyes, and it only makes her look more tempting to the princess.
“Thinkin’ ‘bout what?” Emerald asks, moving to take a seat next to you, her body pointed to Shuri’s, which faces the window.
The princess shrugs, not really knowing the answer herself. “I don’t know, really.”
“Do you think a lot?”
“Unfortunately.”
Emerald hums in response, her hand still resting on Shuri’s cheek. “What about?”
“A lot of things,” Shuri answers, “a lot of things that would certainly overwhelm you, or (Y/N).”
“So, princess things?”
“Princess things…and then some.”
A soft chuckle escapes both of their lips, with a smile that stays on Emerald’s as she takes in Shuri’s appearance. She still had on the same sweatpants as yesterday, as well as the sports bra, but the sight couldn’t be any more delicious to the dark skinned woman. It didn’t help that her eyes were half-lidden and her curls were a mess, a sure sign that the princess was still riddled with sleep.
“I don’t like thinking sometimes,” Shuri mutters after a moment. Emerald hums once more, urging her to continue.
“It’s too much to think, sometimes. People expect me to, though. To think, to have all the answers. I do- well, not all the answers to everything, but I do get answers. But I also get overwhelmed. Sometimes…I wish someone else could do the thinking for a while. Let my brain get quiet for a bit. I can’t remember the last time I didn’t have to think, but I’m sure, compared to now, it was pleasant.”
Shuri mumbles on, and Emerald takes into account her body language as she speaks - she’s relaxed, but still slightly rigid. She can see it in the way Shuri’s stomach is tense, possibly with anxiousness. Emerald understands why, even though she jokes about it often; she knows the job of a royal isn’t easy, especially for Shuri. She think’s for everyone and has no outlet of her own to turn to.
“You don’t wanna think for a while, right?”
Shuri pauses for a moment, before nodding her head ‘yes’ in response.
“I can make that happen for you, princess.”
Before Shuri has a chance to question Emerald’s statement, she feels her other hand gliding against her midsection in a soothing, almost sultry motion. The low octave of which she spoke made warmth pool into Shuri’s stomach, into her core. Chocolate brown irises bore into each other deeply, tempting each other to lean in.
“I can help you stop thinkin’, is that what you want, baby?”
Shuri nods, this time her reaction is almost immediate. Emerald leans in and captures Shuri’s lips in a breathtaking kiss. It soon turns passionate; Emerald is on Shuri’s lap, and the princess’s grip on her hips is deadly as she whines into the kiss, heat pooling into Shuri's core, begging for attention.
Once the need for oxygen becomes too great, Emerald is the first to pull away, lips swollen and chest heaving from the intensity of the kiss. She stands, pulling Shuri up with her, and places a quick kiss onto the princess’s lips while tugging at her bottoms.
“Bed. Now.” Emerald demands. “And take these off, too. I’ma be right back.”
Shuri is quick to follow instructions - as Emerald goes to retrieve her strap from her bag in the storage closet, Shuri makes quick work at discarding her clothes and takes back her place on the bed, of which the three of you had retreated to at some point during the night after your previous lovemaking session.
It’s only when she’s back on the bed that she remembers your presence there, too, her eyebrows furrowed together. Although you were a deep sleeper, and can - and have - slept through violent storms and countless other loud actions, was Emerald seriously about to fuck her right next to you?
Out of her peripheral, Shuri sees Emerald return, her sweats discarded and now replaced with the boxer briefs needed for her strap. She makes a trek for the coffee table, grabbing the vibrator case that was discarded there the night prior, and from it, she produces one of the two vibrators from the set. A tiny bullet vibrator, and the sight of it alone forces Shuri to swallow the whine she desperately wants to emit, while she can feel her pussy leaking with anticipation.
Emerald climbs onto the bed, her presence demanding Shuri’s attention, knowing what the princess beneath her is thinking.
“Don’t think ‘bout her,” Emerald says, referencing your sleeping figure, your back turned to them as you snoozed soundly, deep in slumber, “don’t think, baby, just feel, can you do that for me?”
Fuck, Emerald is too good at this. Too good at taking command, too good at picking apart Shuri’s mind.
“Need you to let me in that pretty head of yours, princess. Let me take control,” Emerald leans down onto Shuri’s body, leaving kisses from her lips, trailing down her jawline, into the dip of her neck. It leaves the princess breathless, so much so that she doesn’t even hear when Emerald activates the vibrator.
“You gon’ let me in there, Princess?”
Shuri nods eagerly, but it’s nothing compared to the gasp that leaves her lips when Emerald presses the tiny bullet right onto Shuri’s dripping heat, the unholy noises that come from the vibrations and her slick meeting. The metal of the device is cold at first, but with Emerald’s skillful hands circling the device around Shuri’s clit in agonizingly slow motions, it’s not long before Shuri’s brain becomes muddled and weak.
“Fuck, fuck, Em, please…” Shuri whines when the device is place right onto her clit, which is only encouragement for the other woman to continue. There’s a slight tremble in Shuri’s legs already, and it gets Emerald excited.
“Princess is already goin’ dumb,” she hums affectionately right into Shuri’s ear, and the statement awakens something deep within her that she wasn’t aware was even present, “goin’ dumb over a lil’ vibe?”
Shuri’s ability to speak was stripped from her with Em’s words, even more so when she slipped a digit in between her seeping folds. A silent moan left Shuri’s lips at the added pressure, her head began shifting from side to side, overwhelmed from the littlest of contact.
Emerald pressed soothing kisses onto Shuri’s neck while her digit pumped in and out of Shuri’s folds, a gasp of her own slipping past her lips once she actually got a feel for how wet the princess was. Shuri’s pussy was practically sopping with slick, making her in and out motions seem effortless. There was so much, she was surprised her entire hand wasn’t covered with it. It was too tempting - Emerald had to have a taste.
Shuri’s eyes were closed, too caught up in the feeling of pleasure. The sudden absence of Emerald’s face in her neck made the princess whine, but it was soon replaced with a silent scream when the vibrator that had been abusing her clit for the past few minutes was removed, and replaced with Emerald’s tongue.
“Oh, fuck, n-no, Em, please-” but it was too late. The vibrator deactivated and discarded, Emerald’s now free hand went to place itself on top of Shuri’s abdomen, steadying the princess’s desperate attempts at shying away, but Emerald wasn’t having it. She added another digit, picked up the pace, and started curling her fingers inside Shuri’s velvety walls, trying to pinpoint the spot that would have her legs trembling. And when Emerald did find it, and started brushing it mercilessly while her tongue did wonders on Shuri’s clit, the princess couldn’t control the volume of her voice anymore.
“Em, em, I’m cumming-” Shuri whines, her eyes beginning to swell with tears of overwhelming pleasure, “please- please, I can’t- oh, Bast, I’m cumming, I’m cumming-!”
Emerald’s assault on Shuri’s pussy remained ruthless as the princess rode out her high, the blinding pleasure being taken out on the poor sheets and Emerald’s poor curls, but the sting only edged Emerald on further. It took everything in Shuri to not let the Black Panther strength overtake her as her legs closed around Emerald’s head, tremors racking through her limbs in waves. IT’s only when Shuri is coming down that Emerald’s actions begin to slow to a halt.
Emerald lifts her head to see Shuri, spent and breathless, her chest heaving from the intensity of her climax. She’s so effortlessly beautiful, it drives Emerald insane. She slowly pulls her fingers from Shuri’s fluttering core, making the princess’s legs close once again and her core clench around nothing. The lack of presence inside of her makes her whine, but Emerald has plans to fix that soon.
When Shuri opens her eyes once again, the sight before has the slick between her legs pooling once again. Emerald has brung the fingers which were previously buried deep inside of her to her lips, relishing in Shuri’s delectable taste. It’s a sight that has Shuri’s head falling back onto the pillow, desperate for Emerald’s touch once again.
Said woman climbs her way back up to Shuri’s face, taking care to glance at your figure to make sure you were still sleeping. Once your figure is confirmed to be still fast asleep, Emerald plants a series of kisses onto Shuri’s lips, of which the princess returns just as eagerly. “You good, princess?”
Shuri is too breathless to speak, so all that comes out in response is a nod and a short whine, which makes Emerald chuckle. “Got you so dumb, can’t even speak.”
Her words have an intense heat creep up Shuri’s neck, because she knew part of it was true. “That’s fine. I’ll just learn your body instead.”
Shuri jumps when the tip of the cool silicone brushes against her sensitive clit, another whine emitting from her lips. She’s about to question when did Emerald have time to slip the strap into place in her boxers, but the other woman is already a step ahead of her. She’s stroking Shuri’s thighs as she gets them into position, helping the princess relax, even though the events of her previous orgasm are still present in the light trembles that run through Shuri’s legs.
“Hold ‘em back for me baby,” it’s so embarrassing, but Shuri complies, holding the back of her knees in the crevice of her elbow, bearing her sopping wet heat to Emerald, and she all but gasps at the sight of such a pretty pussy on display just for her. It’s nothing compared to the pictures and videos she was blessed with until now, and Emerald takes her time drinking in the sight. Though it’s not long before Shuri gets needy again, and Emerald has to shush the princess with promises of taking care of her soon enough.
“Need you to do somethin’ for me, princess,” Emerald says, as she aligns the strap to Shuri’s entrance, lubricating the silicone with the other woman’s cum and slick, “Need you to focus on my strap, okay? Don’t think ‘bout nothin’ else, you hear me?”
Emerald’s hand rubs soothing strokes along Shuri’s inner thigh; the princess nods with a hum, but it’s not enough for Emerald this time. “Use your words for me, baby.”
“I will,” Shuri chokes out, “I’ll focus on the- oohh my god-!”
In the midst of Shuri’s response, Emerald pressed the silicone strap between Shuri’s folds, and she and Shuri watch as it disappears into the princess. Shuri wants to shout, scream, but nothing comes out of her throat, so she’s left in a silent scream as the overwhelming feeling of being filled by Emerald consumes her entire being.
Emerald buries herself to the base, her stomach brushing ever so gently against Shuri’s sensitive clit, and it makes the princess jerk and the strap inside of her to move ever so slightly, and Shuri is seeing stars.
She feels it, everything in its entirety. The veins that run the length of Emerald’s strap, the tip of it that is oh so close to brushing against that spongy spot of pleasure. And she’s full, so incredibly full and stuffed that there’s nothing else her mind can even begin to think about. Her brain has been emptied of everything else, and the only thing in it is Emerald, and how deliciously she's filling her.
Shuri can’t speak, and Emerald doesn’t force her to. Instead, she takes note of Shuri’s body language, allowing that to be her guide on how to proceed. Once Shuri has calmed down from the overwhelming sensation, and she begins to release noises of desperation, Emerald begins to move.
Her pace is slow and steady, but even so, it has Shuri belting out mewls of pleasure, incoherent babbles spewing from her lips, and it’s here that Emerald confirms she has officially made Shuri dumb for her dick, and the thought alone boosts her ego to incredible heights.
Though Emerald is enraptured by the pants and moans that are spilling out from Shuri’s lips, she can’t help but notice that there’s another spill of them, and when she turns to check on your supposedly sleeping figure, she finds you, in fact, not sleeping, but very much caught up in your own pleasure, with one hand fondling your breast, and the other rubbing circles into your own clit.
It causes her to chuckle, seeing you so easily worked up out of your sleep, and while she maintains her long, languid strokes into Shuri, she reaches over to you, surprising you when her two digits slip right into your slippery heat with ease. 
Soon you and Shuri are moaning messes, so close to coming undone together, when Emerald has the best idea she’s ever had in her life.
“Shuri, baby, open your eyes for me,” and Shuri obliges, being met with the delicious sight of Emerald looking down at her with so much love and desire, and in following down her outstretched arm, she sees you, utterly lost on Emerald’s fingers pumping in and out of you as well.
“Can my princess come pleasure my babygirl? While I fuck you from behind? Can you do that for me?”
Emerald doesn’t even have to ask, because the minute she retracts her strap and her hands from both you and Shuri’s core, the princess makes quick work to settle herself between your legs, immediately dipping down to lick and suck at your clit, and you release a desperate, “Haaa, fuck, please…-!” when Shuri’s long fingers slip into your core to replace Emerald’s.
Not a moment passes before Emerald is right behind Shuri, once again aligning herself with the other woman's entrance, and Shuri releases a long, drawn out, “Fuuucckk,” when Emerald slips back inside of her with ease. She picks up her pace, her strokes causing the princess to jerk forward with every thrust, which in turn causes delicious friction against your clit as Shuri’s tongue laps and sucks as it with hunger. Heavy moans and high-pitched whines fill the tiny yet luxurious studio apartment, and as Shuri was still reeling from her last orgasm, it’s only natural that she’s also the first to feel the knot in her stomach tightening once again.
“Shuri, Shuri please, I wanna cum…!” you beg, which only insights her own spiel of whimpering for release, “fuck, fuck, I’m cumming, Em, I’m cumming again!” 
And Emerald would be lying if she said she wasn’t feeling one coming for herself, too, because delivering these back shots to Shuri had the edge of the base of the strap brushing against her own clit just right in these boxers. She couldn’t hold out for long. None of them could.
“You gon’ cum for me, princess?” Emerald slurs, and Shuri’s hums of response in such a beautiful, lust filled voice has the dark skinned woman drunk, desperate to hear more. “You gonna make babygirl cum, too?”
“Pleeaaseee, wanna cum, wanna cum so bad, please!” Your squeal of desperation doesn’t go unnoticed by either woman, and it’s Emerald’s whispers of praise - ‘make us cum, princess’, ‘you’re doin’ so good, baby’, ‘fuck, you makin’ me feel that shit, baby’ - that drive Shuri over the edge.
Shuri cums once more, no, she squirts this time, her orgasm spraying all across the sheets and Emerald’s bottom half. You’re soon to follow, releasing right into Shuri’s mouth, and the princess drinks every last of your release. And Emerald is the last, her strokes becoming uncoordinated and unsteady as a sign of her impending climax, and it’s with one last thrust that she stills inside of Shuri, allowing herself to be overwhelmed by the intensity of her own orgasm.
It takes a moment, but all three of you collapse back onto your respective places on the bed - Shuri in the middle, you on the right, and Emerald on the left, closest to the wall. In synchronized heaving and shared glances of love and adoration for one another, a smile graces on each of your faces.
“Well, if I ain’t know any better, I’d say this is a great morning,” hums Emerald, who is the first to recover. You and Shuri, still spent - Shuri more so, as she endured not one, but two earth shattering orgasms - release breathless laughs of agreement to the dark skinned woman.
“Goodmorning, my love,” Shuri hums, “and yes, great morning, my gem.”
“G’morning…” you yawn.
And what a good morning it was.
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laylajeffany · 7 months ago
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targeted ad ii - microfic
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saw these on insta - ya'll might already know they exist sorry i'm old but they are for Wednesday and Enid for sure, so have a tiny scene of Enid convincing her moody lil gf to wear them
“You’ve already managed to convince me to join you in a cabin that doesn’t double as a hideout for family members running from federal agents. On the first full day of this trip, I’ve eaten your sugary version of breakfast, listened to your KPop morning stretch routine playlist, and now you expect me to wear matching clothes? I already wore a snood with you to hunt a monster.”
Enid wiggled her shoulders, holding a tie-dyed canvas tone in her hands with her bottom lip curled out. “Yeah, and you let it get all torn up! Come on, Wednesday – it’s practically a tradition!”
“This is our first time traveling together. The only tradition we’ll have is going to be you waking up breathing each day after the insufferable teenage whimsy you have me entertaining on this so-called vacation.”
“Okay, not so much a tradition, but it’s like, a thing that couples do together! At least all the ones on Instagram do it when they travel!”
Wednesday opened her own suitcase, a vintage piece assembled with fine leather. Whatever low-quality, polyester excuse for ‘fabric’ that Enid had likely ordered from a sweatshop was not going on her body.  “Good news, I’m not on Instagram; you don’t have to worry about meeting vapidly set expectations of social media on my behalf.”
“But I got them special for us, so that we could still be coordinating and you could keep your aesthetics up, even though there would be no one here to see it. And I promise, I won’t post it on my stories or anything, I’d just…maybe hope that you’ll let Thing take a Polaroid of us for our cute little collection of pics on the string lights...”
Once Enid was full-blown pouting, Wednesday gave her a glance after taking out her organic, linen, hand-dyed pants that were stitched by the family seamstress and sighed. “What garment-factory-fire-waiting-to-happen clothing have you obtained?”
Enid scoffed as she reached into her bag. “I’d think the idea of a factory fire would be exciting to you.”
“I support exploiting people for their stupidity, not their labor,” Wednesday muttered and crossed her arms as she watched Enid pull out sweatshirts. One as an offensive baby pink and the other was black.
Matching? Hardly.
“These are from a small business I saw on that social-media-app you hate so much -”
“Did you fall for targeted advertising again? Enid, we’ve discussed the need to more strictly adjust your privacy settings so that your personality can’t be packaged and sold to you-”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, breach of data – Russian bots, we’ve been through this. Anyway, this is a cute, women-owned online shop, not from some planet-killing application. I thought that these were particularly appropriate for us, and actually match this exact moment we’re in, right now.”
She turned them around, and Wednesday almost let out a puff of air in amusement, though she managed to conceal it before it could escape.
On the black sweatshirt was a pink heart, with a little spiderweb motif around it and the phrase ‘might bite,’ while the pink one had the same style, but the script read instead, ‘might cry.’
“Fitting,” Wednesday finally decided.
“Let’s see if they fit us!” She cheered, pulling the bright colored pastel top over her head and giggling, approaching Wednesday bravely, tugging the neck hole over her braids.
“Enid, it has pink.”
“Like, three inches of it on top! We’re alone in the woods, no one can see you. And I’ve got Benadryl for bug bites, if you break out in hives from your ‘color allergy.’”
Wednesday let out a long sigh through her nose as Enid actually took her arms one at a time and weaseled them inside the sleeves of the crewneck. She stared straight ahead, unfortunately – the maneuver long had lost the effect of unnerving Enid.  
“Eek! You look so cute.” Enid tugged her over to the mirror on the back of the door of the log-built lake house they’d rented for spring break (a place for her to wolf out during that night’s full moon and for Wednesday to have plenty of target practice with a variety of weapons she’d packed). “I mean, intimidating – of course, not cute. Never cute.” She let out a series of bubbly laughs yet again, hooking an arm over Wednesday, who stared at their reflection.
It was a bit chilly that morning – but certainly not cold enough for the jacket she’d packed in case the weather was uncooperative…
“I will wear this for exactly the twenty minutes it will take us to walk to the lake.”
Enid squeaked and kissed her cheek, squeezing their matching sweatshirts together in a hug before pulling back and admiring their attire again, rubbing up and down Wednesday’s back mindlessly as she stared in the mirror. “We look adorable. I mean, deadly. We look very deadly in these.”
“You’re going to be dead if you don’t take your hands off my black and pink sweatshirt,” Wednesday clarified.
“Oh, please. You love it when I touch you,” Enid teased and Wednesday nearly wrinkled her nose at how much that was true. “What, are you going to prove that true and bite me if I don’t stop?”
“You wish,” Wednesday retorted, working very hard on keeping her eyes from rolling all the way back when Thing managed to capture the moment with Enid’s instant camera as she’d hoped. Enid let go and brought her arms up in a victory pose before milling around and gathering entirely too many unnecessary supplies for their morning hike while Wednesday watched her intensely in the mirror. She would admit – she liked the oversized top, and how it fell over her hands and went mid-length down her thighs. Adding her more usual pair of pants to go with it, she laced up her boots and waited as Enid debated between tinted lip balm. “The mosquitoes are going to find you delicious no matter what color your lips are.”
“It has SPF in it! Very necessary,” She said, putting some on herself when she finally picked one, then approached Wednesday, taking her by the back of her head and putting it on her as well. The fountain of positive thinking and insane levels of bravery that was her girlfriend shocked her into allowing it. Even more boldly, she followed it up with a kiss to those tinted lips that Wednesday almost returned. “Now you can leave a cute little lip imprint when you bite me,” She winked.
Tugging her close, Wednesday wrapped her black-clad sleeves around her pink middle, tucking her cheek against the plush fabric. In a move indicating surrender, she muttered, “This sweatshirt is adequately warm.”
“I knew you’d like it,” Enid kissed the top of her head, giving her a long embrace in return.
“I didn’t say that.”
“You don’t have to. And even if you’re just entertaining me,” She pulled back to look her in the eye. “Thank you. Now come on, you getting all affectionate on me might make me cry happy tears if we don’t get moving!”
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cilil · 1 month ago
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Today I unearthed a folder in which I saved some good memories from school, mostly drawings and doodles I made together with friends or by myself, and it's making me emotional.
I... found that I made fanart for a game I loved at that time and... the art wasn't bad. Especially for a teenager and beginner artist (yes, I am a beginner artist to this day, it's embarrassing, I know). The art was cute, even has some attempts at shading and converting colors to black and white. I like it. A lot actually.
And now I just sit on my bed, holding these old sketches, and wonder why I never pursued art. I loved it so much. I had fun. My younger self wouldn't have kept these drawings if not, and my older self can see it on the paper, in every line, every stroke, every tiny grain of pencil dust.
What made me think that this wasn't worth pursuing, not worth trying again until many years later? What discouraged me? I don't remember an exact moment or anything; the only thing I know for sure is that I knew and believed - and know and believe to this day, to be honest - that there's a lack of innate ability on my part and that others my age are so far ahead and were back then as well. Hell, I've been behind since I failed to color within the lines in kindergarten.
It feels and felt like a fool's errand to deal with my clumsy hands and messed up back for hours just to end up with something that is... maybe charming in my eyes, but so, so subpar in the grand scheme of things.
I stuck to writing in the end because it was the only thing people said I was good at. And I'm glad I - just this once - had the courage to do so and to keep going and, eventually, push myself into sharing it on the internet too. Through sheer delusion and determination and lots, oh, lots of writing I clawed myself up to a place where I feel just confident enough in my skills to not constantly question myself and happily create.
And therein lies the answer for art as well, doesn't it? "Just keep trying, just put in all those hours and days and months and years of work for it as well, until your hands bleed and your back gives out, eventually you'll get there! Talent is not required either!"
But it's not that simple. I'm not sure I can do this again, muster enough courage and delusion to be terrible for years until I finally start making things that go from subpar to mediocre. And maybe never from mediocre to decent or even good.
When I learned to write, I had other people's claims that I was talented to fall back on and wasn't as hopelessly behind other people. Now motivation is lower and frustration is higher. Learning curves and empty canvases paralyze me; the last time I made art it took me 2 full hours until I could push past it. Not to mention that I'd picked out all references and tutorials and everything a week before.
Where does this leave us? What will I do, you ask? Well. Even if I never beat these demons I can assure you that, every once in a while, the urge will overcome me and I will attempt something. Maybe I'll learn and improve just a little by accident. Maybe I'll even get my ass up and actually learn sometime.
I am technically currently doing an art event somewhere else, so at the very least I will be forced to make a few pieces.
And I know myself a bit better these days. That also helps.
I know that, if anything will get me past the demons, it's obsession, the need to illustrate my own fics and, most importantly, porn.
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steviestits · 6 months ago
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oh! buried treasure and mommy kink
Thanks for the awesome prompt!
Warning! This has contains physical feminization, pregnancy, and very brief mermaid sex! If you're not into that or are under the age of 18, then please stop reading this now!
As a treasure diver, Steve visits sunken wrecks all across the world and hunts for the rarest hauls. There's one haul in particular that has always eluded him until today, which was a necklace called the Mermaid's Tear. It held one of the largest pearls in the world that was framed with several diamonds in its pendant and had been lost in a shipwreck centuries ago.
Many had looked for the treasure and failed, never pinpointing the exact location, but Steve had a lead, a good one from a buddy of his that studied in the field. Dustin hadn't steered him wrong yet, so he trusted that the information was good. He sailed right to the coordinates, put on his gear, and dove into the water all with the expectation that he would find the Mermaid's Tear.
Steve dove down into the depth. The wreckage had mostly been buried in the sand, scattered in broken pieces along the bottom of the ocean floor. He assumed that they must have gotten into a fight with raiders and lost, though the ship sunk, leaving the location of the treasure unknown until now.
It took a few trips, but Steve did eventually find the location of the necklace. The pearl was as beautiful as the legends said. Its beauty bewitched Steve, and the moment he removed his diving gear on the boat, he found himself fumbling to clasp it around his neck, despite the fact that he had previously wished to give it to a museum.
A strange feeling took over Steve. His body began to grow hot, and he struggled to breathe. Also, he felt dry, as if he hadn't had a drink of water in days. He tried to take the necklace off, only his legs gave out on him, causing him to fall overboard, back into the water.
Though Steve fought to reach the surface, he soon realized that despite still feeling hot, he could breathe normally. Then he froze as he finally noticed that his legs had transformed into a fish tail. His chest also felt heavier, making him realize that he'd become an actual mermaid, like Ariel from the Little Mermaid.
The heat inside Steve grew worse, however, and a slit in his tail opened up the hotter his body became. On instinct, Steve fingered the hole, knowing that it was the cause of his current state. He had to get something inside it in order to make his body feel normal again.
Luckily for Steve, a fellow merman was passing through the area when he smelled a mermaid in heat. Eddie made a beeline for them and was surprised by the gorgeous vision that greeted him. Even by merfolk standards, the mermaid in front of him had the type of beauty that only spoken of in legends.
Steve knew he should be freaked out seeing another merfolk since he didn't even know they existed until today, but all he could think about was the handsome merman in front of him. His instincts told him that he had what Steve needed to calm down the heat inside him. He didn't hesitate either, instantly clinging to the other.
Eddie returned the embrace enthusiastically and helped Steve get what he needed, stuffing the hole full with his cock. It was as if a light switch had been flicked inside Steve's head as he began to beg for the other mer to make him a mommy, to fertilize his eggs and make him a mom.
Happy to oblige, Eddie helped Steve, making certain to praise the mother-to-be in the process by telling him how good he was for letting Eddie make him a mommy, that he was going to be the hottest mommy under the sea. He did this until he came, filling Steve up with his cum. He could almost feel Steve becoming a mommy with each spurt.
The eggs inside took a few days to gestate before they'd be ready to lay, and Eddie stayed with Steve the whole time. He continued to tell Steve what a good mommy he was by getting pregnant with Eddie's pups. The merman rubbed his expanding belly, watching Steve become a mommy before his very eyes.
Eventually, Steve laid the eggs and buried them in the sand as his instincts told him to do. He guarded his eggs with his new mate, Eddie, and found it a bit funny. Steve had come looking for buried treasure, but instead he created a treasure then buried it himself.
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ronanceautistic · 3 months ago
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It has been two years since my first fic was posted on AO3! So here's some fun fact about some of the fics I've posted.
southern nights: I wrote this the night after my grandma died lol. It feels a little obvious.
hounds of love: This was the third fic I posted, but the first fic I wrote.
Jig of Life: It was supposed to be much longer, but I got hit with writers block bad. I do wanna maybe do a rewrite of it at some point because I think it had potentially but was just lacking a bit.
A Promise That I'll Keep: A detail I only vaguely implied at is Robin's method of getting Nancy into the storm cellar - using a literal lead - hence why she got bitten.
blinded by the light: I do very often forget this fic even exists but I still love the comparison of grief to nuclear bomb testing LMAO. It's mental but I think it works surprisingly well.
I'm not here: Nancy's fate was decided on a blind Twitter poll - option a she lives, option b she dies. It got around 50ish votes (I can't remember the exact number), and her fate came down to one vote. Ironically, the vote I made on the nancybot account at the very beginning of the poll, is the one that saved her life. Nancy literally saved her own life in real life.
let my love open the door: Here are the invitation cards to the ten year reunion they attended!
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the dream catcher: The concept began with the poems at the beginning of each chapter. The story developed from them.
she knows where she's taking me: This is the full route they took from the Denver QZ to Lenora
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the stars, the moon: This day was originally conceptualised in the Grosse Point Blank AU, in that universe it's the day Nancy runs away from home. But in this fic, Robin shows up in time to stop her. And, I mean, thank fuck she did considering how her life turned out in the original fic.
we were younger: I list them in the end notes of the fic, but so much of this fic parallels canon Stranger Things, and I'm honestly impressed with myself how many connections I managed to fit in there.
what about crying whales: Aquarium is real life accurate thanks to a video tour of the New England Aquarium.
I just want to live in the moment: Not just in this fic, but I tend to write Nancy angst one shots in the present tense. I just like the feeling of time being fleeting, nothing being set in stone. It feels less like a story and more like inner dialogue.
call me when you get home: I was in a really bad place when I wrote this one, so the ending was a lot of wishful thinking for myself. OCD waxes and wanes, but it's fun to say that since writing it, I've felt the ending for myself.
tell me something about yourself: I really really like the concept of this one and honestly have never heard of any piece of media doing something like it before. So a lot of it was purely experimental, seeing if it even could be done well.
trapped between two lungs: It blows my mind that I even pulled this off, and blows my mind even more how positive the reception was. It was so much work, so much planning. Season 5 of this fic is undoubtedly the thing I'm most proud of. I wrote the entire final season of Stranger Things and I've had multiple people tell me the actual show couldn't possibly do it better? That's mental. Thank you so much.
Anyways here's to two more years.
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massharp1971 · 6 months ago
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Excerpt: “You fucking bastard!” Rodney shouted loud enough to make Evan’s ears hurt. “You left! Without a fucking word! I didn’t know it was happening until I saw you stepping through the fucking wormhole, you absolute piece of shit!”
Rodney McKay did not usually swear – he was far too precise in his language for that. The weird part of it was, Evan felt as if this was the exact diatribe he would have gotten had Rodney spoken to him the day after he left. It almost made him feel like no time had passed at all. At least McKay hadn’t iced over the way Ronon apparently had.
“Rodney,” Evan said, softening his voice in counterpoint, “I didn’t know myself, but I had to.” 
Rodney crossed his arms and lifted his chin – such a classic McKay pose, and Evan appreciated the lines of his muscled arms, the softness of the weight he’d gained, the slight wildness of his hair, even the fury that animated him right now.
“You believed in us – or at least I thought you did. An independent Atlantis, free of the American military. Where was your loyalty to us?”
The same old pain stabbed in Evan’s chest.
“I do believe in Atlantis, and I hope history shows I haven’t done anything to betray her.”
Rodney faltered at this because of course it was true – Evan hadn’t hurt Atlantis’ independence, he might have even helped it from the other side, but he had hurt the people he loved. He still wished with all of his tired heart that he’d been able to stay five years ago and support the folks who had become family to him through this time of incredible change. 
He knew he couldn’t just walk back into his old life – things were every bit as hard as he expected them to be, but still he wanted.
He sat down heavily on Rodney’s couch, feeling suddenly beyond exhausted.
“I know I hurt you deeply. I’d give anything not to have done that, Rodney.”
“Just so we’re clear, I want to hurt you until you feel half as bad as you made me feel,” Rodney said. “And John. And Ronon.”
“I already did that to myself,” Evan said quietly, tears rising in his eyes. “I decimated myself and it never healed in all this time.”
“Well good, because that’s what you did to us. Decimated. Entirely fucked,” Rodney said bitterly.
“Except for the fact you got Atlantis. A free Atlantis. And you finally got John, too.”
Rodney looked at him levelly, his face acknowledging the truth of this.
“Do you mind?” he asked.
“God, Rodney, yes I mind – that you’re both happy, that you have what you wanted, it eases some small amount of my pain to know that. I mind about your happiness a great deal.”
“Oh,” Rodney said, looking deflated. “Actually, I am. We are… Happy, I mean.”
“Well, I’m glad,” Evan said.
And he was. He’d been expecting those two to get together since he met them – was surprised when he found out they weren’t, was even more surprised when he found they happily swung his way but still hadn’t figured out how they felt about each other.
“The thing is, Evan, it only happened because of you,” Rodney said.
“Because I left?” Evan asked, confused.
Rodney looked at him a little resentfully.
“No… because… because you loved me. Because I didn’t know how to let myself be loved until you.”
It was sweet, really, even though Rodney’s voice sounded bitter. But then, McKay had always been a full flavoured kind of human, you had to enjoy a good dose of chili in your chocolate to love someone like Rodney.
“You know what the worst part of it is?” Rodney asked.
And suddenly there were tears in his eyes, and Evan’s heart broke a little more.
“Go on,” he prompted.
“Not for one moment did I have the luxury of thinking you were just an asshole who didn’t care as much as you pretended to. I actually knew your heart would be breaking, and somewhat infuriatingly I cared about that as much as about my own heartbreak. You opened my heart up and then left it like an untended wound.”
“I’m sorry,” Evan said, feeling the agony of that decision as if it just happened. “And you’re right, it hurt like you can’t imagine. Still hurts.”
“What was it like, being without Atlantis?” Rodney suddenly looked horrified, as if it was hard to even contemplate.
“Every bit as tough as you’re imagining. But for me, losing my family was harder. Losing you .”
Rodney suddenly looked doubtful. 
“Oh please, you’re only making it right with me so you can get back with John.”
“You know that’s not true, Rodney. You know I don’t operate that way. I love you, I love John, I love Ronon.”
“You have to make it right with Ronon too,” Rodney said. “Although… that’s going to take some time, I think.”
“Yeah, I don’t think Ronon is going to accept any overture from me,” Evan said. “I just have to wait it out, and he may never come round.”
“His hurt was the deepest,” Rodney told him. “His abandonment issues are the biggest. Even bigger than John’s. He’s lost too much, Evan.”
“That may be true,” Evan said thoughtfully.
He couldn’t bear to think about what he’d done to Ronon, but right now he was focused on the man in front of him.
“Rodney,” he said, tentatively reaching for McKay’s hand. “You’ve had more than enough hurt and loss of your own, and I’m sorry, truly sorry for the pain I caused you.”
“I do actually understand why, you know. I’m not completely insensitive.”
“You’re anything but insensitive. You feel things deeply. It’s one of the reasons I love you.”
Rodney’s eyes widened as if that was news to him.
“Still?” Rodney said, looking somewhat incredulous. “You still…?”
And there was the sweet, vulnerable man Evan adored. He really could not prevent himself from leaning forward and kissing Rodney gently.
He was aiming for tender, but he was met with fierce coming at him from the other direction in a full-frontal attack. Rodney devoured his lips, bruising and biting, and it was everything. 
“Bed, now,” Rodney said, when they came up for air sometime later.
“I agree,” Evan said, breathlessly.
read more on ao3
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racingliners · 13 days ago
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⭐ for tros, please! xx
fanfic writers directors cut
Again there is SO MUCH I want to talk about with TRoS!!! Like I could go full PowerPoint presentation, but alas it's twenty to 11 at night as I'm typing this so that'll have to be for another day.
So for now, I'm gonna talk about the podium scene in the Spanish GP chapter!
(Under a read more, I got chatty.)
So with Seb being Chief Strategist there was always the possibly of him being picked as a Constructor's representative for the podium and I 1. obviously wanted to write about Seb getting soaked in champagne while wearing a famous white Merc shirt and 2. wanted it to be a Lewis win for Sewis reasons.
The way I do worldbuilding for AUs means that I like to include echos or references of canon/IRL events. In this case in the 2017 season Lewis and Seb were 1-2 on the podium at the Spanish GP, as well as sharing so many podiums over their careers, as well as having a Seb-Lewis-Jenson podium at Barcelona in 2011, so I really wanted to make reference to both of those races.
I also wanted to play around in the "How does Engineer!Seb feel about his F1 career and does he ever miss or think about what he could have had?" sandbox.
Hence why I opened the chapter with the following paragraph:
Sebastian hadn’t been able to pinpoint the exact moment he’d stopped feeling like an imposter when he walked through the paddock entrance. It had just… happened. He’d scanned his pass while chatting with James Vowles and stopped feeling the watchful eyes of every paddock photographer, pundit, commentator and journalist leering on him. He no longer felt like Seb the Red Bull prodigy turned reject playing dress up, but that he finally matched the words on his accreditation – Sebastian Vettel, Chief Strategist at Mercedes AMG Petronas Motorsport. (It was a wordy job title, but he adored every single letter).
Sebastian's happy, and most importantly comfortable in his new role in the F1 world. That is until he's told that he's been picked to be the Constructor's rep on the podium and a lot of stuff shoots up to the surface.
As Seb looked into James’ kind eyes, all he felt was a slight tightening in his chest. And yet, he didn’t want to let anyone down, or more accurately didn’t want to disrespect the team, by saying no. “It’s just champagne Seb,” James Allison clapped a heavy hand on Sebastian’s shoulder that just about managed to pull him back into the present. The bright blue sky, the roar of the crowd, the concrete beneath his feet, and the eyes of all of his colleagues now trained on him. “You might actually enjoy it.” Seb half forced himself to let out a small laugh and nervously pulled at his ear. “If you wanted to see me soaking wet before now, you should have just asked.” He said with a shy grin, and thankfully everyone either rolled their eyes or tutted instead of looking at Seb with concerned glances.
Seb Vettel 101: When faced with the realisation that 10 years after having your F1 driving career crushed to pieces you're finally going to stand on the winners step of the podium - be slutty to distract your colleagues from your impending crisis.
Sidenote, writing about Seb and his developing friendships with the other Mercedes engineers makes me so happy, you cannot even begin to imagine
I was in two minds for the longest time about whether or not to write the podium from Seb's or Lewis' POV, I eventually settled on Lewis because I wanted him to have his "oh wait Seb's kinda hot" moment, because as we know the Mercedes engineers look very good in their champagne sodden shirts.
But before I switched POVs, Lewis in typical Lewis fashion bounds into the cool down room on cloud nine and he manages to lift Seb's spirit just enough that he willingly walks onto the podium of his own free will. And (shockingly) Seb actually has a very nice time. (Mercedes 101: Always listen to James Allison).
As the British anthem ended and the German one began, he went to glance down at his mechanics, but hearing a quiet but definitely there voice singing stopped him. Sure enough when Lewis looked over his right shoulder and peered past Jenson, he could just make out Seb quietly mouthing the words to the German anthem. Lewis quickly looked away, not wanting to make Seb feel embarrassed, and quietly smiled to himself as he inhaled the warm afternoon air and felt the sunshine on his face. ... He set the trophy down so he would have his hands free to applaud Sebastian, who stared at the constructors trophy wide eyed and slightly breathless. He nervously shook the hand of the official who presented it to him, and looked at the trophy for a couple of seconds before his face split into a familiar bright grin, and he lifted it up into the air to the cheers of all his teammates gathered below, and the quiet applause of Lewis a couple of metres away. He was briefly taken aback by just how relieved Sebastian looked.
Something Seb was always meant to be on a podium with a winner's trophy something.
“Alright!” Seb shouted loudly over the podium music as champagne dripped from the tips of his hair. “Fuck, you got me.” Lewis burst out laughing as he turned to face the crowd and sprayed over the edge of the podium fence towards the team before looking back to see Seb wiping champagne from his eyes. Lewis stepped back up to the top step of the podium, and gestured for Sebastian to join him. He hesitated before slowly climbing the podium steps, and accepted the now half empty bottle when Lewis offered it to him. “Have they always been this heavy?” Seb asked once he’d taken a long sip, weighing the bottle in his hands. Lewis just nodded and put a hand on Seb’s shoulder, smiling at him proudly. “Back where you belong mate.” Lewis said quietly looking right into Seb’s eyes, not wanting the other two drivers to hear. Seb choked out a small laugh before he set the bottle of champagne down by Lewis’ feet. His bright blue eyes still wide and sparkling. “Back where we belong.” He pulled Lewis in for a long hug before either of them had the chance to say anything else. They kept their arms round each other’s shoulders as they stood for the podium photograph, before people walked out carrying team caps and microphones and Seb was quietly asked to leave. He quickly shook hands with Jenson and Daniel before jumping down off the podium. “Hey Seb!” Lewis called out, and Sebastian paused as he went to pick up the constructors trophy. “Wait for me?” “I will.” He said with a smile, and Lewis watched as Seb carried the trophy out of view.
I wanted Seb to mis-remember what some parts of being on a podium (the size of the cooldown room, the weight of the champagne bottles etc) so that when he experiences it for real, it sort of shatters the image he had previously held in his mind and he realises that podiums are fun actually!!! And where he and Lewis belong!!!!! (As the author I DID wail out loud when I came up with that piece of dialogue, thanks for asking😭😭😭).
And yes, dear reader, Seb does wait for Lewis because they're just Like That™️ about each other. To which, we finally lead to, Big Revelation 1 of The Rules of Strategy:
“You good?” Lewis asked, putting a firm hand on his shoulder while looking Seb up and down. “Yeah, I’m fine.” Seb nodded with a breathy sigh. “I missed it, standing on a podium.” Seb bit down on his bottom lip and looked down at the floor as his grin grew even wider. His shirt was still soaked through, accentuating the toned muscles of his torso. For some reason Lewis just couldn’t stop looking at Seb while he wistfully glanced out of the window back towards the podium. The way the sun hit Seb’s hair made it look like it was gilded with gold. ... Lewis shook his head, and forcefully pulled his mind back into focus for his post-race media duties, not wanting Jenson or Daniel to see that he was distracted – even though Lewis wasn’t entirely sure just what had briefly confused him.
Seb is hot and this is the hill I will die on.
Lewis, being Lewis, off-screen fixes his brain back into PR mode and then into driver mode for the post-race debrief so he probably tucks that train of thought deep down in his brain where it can't bother him (when it's actually going to be a surprise tool that will help us later).
I loved coming up with and writing this chapter as it's the first shift in the development of Seb and Lewis' relationship. It's definitely still professional and platonic at this stage, but seeds have been planted at the very least on Lewis' side and things are slowly starting to grow.
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legendcrab · 1 month ago
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You have such cool fursonas :333333
Do ya have any others? :<c
And/or, plz share what volcanic/lava border collie and ltoloxa doggie entail :3 (at your leisure, pup just likes to invite peoples to talk about things they like)
- Ryan
thank you!! ive tried to respond to this ask like twice now and tumblr keeps deleting it so lets hope it works lol. This ended up rlly long so I put a read more!
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Ive got two characters I would consider “sonas”, and a third i designed not too long ago I’m considering keeping! what i like about the furry community is designing, and when I first properly joined i was absolutely cracking out different designs at a wild pace. I draw sometimes, but I’m not particularly good at it and i prefer to put the time into actually picking the colors and patterns as opposed to stressing over trying to get a sketch and lineart to look okay, so I usually use bases and get commissions!
Halite, the pink axolotl-dog, is my first fursona and I think of him as my baby :3 While I don’t really do characterization or backstory, I think of his personality as being more bubbly and childish. My current icon (Halite sitting in a little floaty) is a P2U base by Applepup Illustrations, as are the two icon-style pieces in the ask. Anyways, I mostly think of him as an axolotl-dog, but since I mostly use bases at the moment, a lot of random pics I have of him are pure canine. When I commission, I usually ask the artists to draw him as the full axie pup! The fullbody is a commision from a friends ex, and I still really love the piece. I think of Halie more them a character than a sona, as I don’t really see him as a representation of myself, but I adore him. I sometimes think of Halite as more animal than anthro, but not always, and while I usually default to he/him pronouns, I really couldn’t care one way or the other in how he’s gendered. Especially since he’s pink, I can imagine if i ever make a suit for him, people would think hes a girl, which is perfectly fine by me!
Igneous, my lava themed collie, is the second design I did that I adopted as my own. I tend to think of him as more of a true “sona”, and a more accurate representation of myself. His personality would lean a lot more towards myself as a person, as opposed to having any seperste characterization. While Halite had probably only gone theough one or two major redesigns and I’m pretty happy with how his design has settled, Igneous has gone through probably six or seven. The fullbody with glasses and piercings is a P2U base I got off of etsy from Subdae Studios literally last night lol! The icon-style one was a few months ago, and While I’m pretty happy with rhe design of his face, I’ve still been adjusting the exact color shades and been MAJORLY adjusting how his fur pattern looks. Honestly, I’m almost at the point where I’m thinking of his fur as shifting in the same way that lava lamps do, with the rolling blobs of color. I’m CONSTANTLY changing his body patterns every time I draw him, and honestly the more I look at it, I already want to adjust how the fullbody I did last night looks! I think of Igneous as being fully anthro at all times, and exclusively using he/him, as I’m really attached to him and think of him as a day to day representation of myself.
I’m wanting to get into fursuit making (I have off and on, I tried making a headbase and have made a couple pairs of paws, I just don’t stick with it), and Igneous will probably be who I make first.
Finally, the most recent design I kept for myself (designed probably two months ago), is this little red-brown-white cat I think I’m naming Feldspar. I use mostly they/them pronouns for them, and think of them as A Little Guy. I designed them for a purpose, I specifically wanted a feline instead of a canine and I wanted more of an “edgy” design, with the darks and reds and bleeding eye motif to fit more of my day to day style, which tends to lean kind of Edgy. I designed a fullbody, but they’re DEFINITELY about to get their first redesign lol, probably with the same base that I did with Igneous last night! If I think of Halite as more of a character and my favorite, and Igneous as more of a proper representation of myself, I’d say Feldspar is somewhere inbetween. They’re significantly less of a representation of myself, but I did make them with the mindset of keeping this character, while the other two I designed and decided I loved. I’d put them on the same level as Halite, being a bit of a baby as opposed to a sona, and more of a silly character! I also wanted a character I can put next to Halite in art, and since Igneous felt so much Like Me it felt odd to place him with Halite, who I kind of think of as being in a different universe. I’ve been using they/them for Feld, and that wasn’t the inital plan, but I think it’ll stick. Same as Halite, I’m not terribly picky on pronouns for them, and I’d say both Feld and Halite can use any pronouns!
I’ve kind of got a pokemon mentality, in the Gotta Catch Em All way. I’ve got my axolotl dog, a normal dog, and a cat. I realllyyyy want a bat sona, but every design I’ve come up with I haven’t really enjoyed for myself. I also really want a yeen and a manokit, and maybe a dutchie! I’m less into dutchies, and I’ve had the same issue with bats, that every design I’ve come up with I don’t wnjoy for myself.
I also don’t name or gender my designs until I decide to keep them, which is why I have a theme going on. Halite is the name of the mineral that is just rock salt, Igneous is a name for all types of minerals formed by magma/volcanic activity, and Feldspar is just a different mineral which can sometimes have those browns and reds. I might change that name, but I’m not sure. The mineral I was thinking of while designing them was these dark red brown pumice rocks I saw growing up in my backyard, but the name Pumice just doesn’t sound nice to me O_o
I also have one more character, a regular dog/wolf type called Sodalite. I don’t have any art of him, but thats because I actually own a head! I bought it second hand off of Ebay, and I really love him. I don’t really think of him as a sona or a character like I do the other three, more of just as a fursuit. While I’d love to have a fullsuit eventually of all three of the others, I don’t really intend on ever getting a fullsuit of Soda. I may or may not keep him long term, and I’ve only had him for like eight months. I really love the design and head, but I just don’t connect to him as well as I do my main sonas. We’ll see what happens once (if) I start making partials for my other guys!
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