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#side note: why did this make me tear up
sugume · 4 months
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COMING DOWN w/Jujutsu Kaisen
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( TW ) BDSM (Sukuna's only), master!Sukuna, punishment, spanking, pussy job, cream pie, praise, fingering, explicit content  
FEATURING: Ryomen Sukuna, Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, and Nanami Kento 
Author’s note: I fear I can only write stern Sukuna, also the way word deleted this and I had the spend my morning rewriting it…
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☾ GOJO SATORU 
“Mm–fuck, oh fuck angel, I’m cumming!” Gojo whines, shooting his load into your abused cunt. You arch your back deeper, shoving your face into the pillow. “Fuck, princess—fuck—feel s’good,” He collapses onto you, heaving. 
You whine at his weight unable to stay up. Satoru falls with you. 
“S’ so good princess, you’re always s’good to me.” Satoru spills, drunk on you. You whimper, tilting your head to kiss his cheek. He nuzzles into you, murmuring out incoherent praise.  
“Toru, you’re too heavy, get off.” You try and fail to shrug him off.  
“Mm—don’t wanna, so comfy.” He slurs, and you know if he doesn’t get up within the next five minutes you both are going to fall asleep covered in sweat, tears, and cum. 
“We gotta wash up ‘Ro. C’mon the quicker we clean up the quicker we can cuddle and watch the next episode of our show.” Satoru protest for a several minutes before kissing the side of your face a few times and lifting himself, his cock slipping out. You gasp, suddenly feeling empty. Your pussy clenched in attempt to keep him cum in. You turn to watch a naked Satoru walk over to grab the baby wipes on the dresser. 
“C’mere baby, lemme clean you up.” 
☾ RYOMEN SUKUNA 
“One more, little girl.” Sukuna grunts, his heavy hand on your back rubbing soothing circles. He brings the belt down again. You gasp, voice hoarse for all the screaming and crying you’ve already done. 
“All done, now c’mere.” Sukuna orders you up from your position across his lap, manhandling you until you wrap around him. 
“M’sorry, m’sorry, won’t do it again I promise, I'll be good now.” You cry into the crock of his neck, overwhelmed with emotions. You feel embarrassed, guilty, and cared for all at once. Only Sukuna can make you feel such contradictory emotions. 
“Shush, it’s okay little girl, I know, you took your punishment like a good girl you know that?” He gently grabs the side of your head, forcing you to look up at him. You have to blink a few times before you can see his face. “Proud of you.” He smiles, leaning down to kiss your lips—swollen from biting down so hard. 
Your heart flutters at the praise, you may not like getting punished but the soft moments after when Sukuna whispers sweet nothings to you will always make it better.  
“I love–” You hiccup. “L-love you Ryo.”  You rub your cheek on his warm palm, ready to fall asleep and start the new day on a clean slate. 
“I love you too little one, you know what to say.” He shakes your head with his hand, the other starting to rub soothing circles on your thighs. “Thank you for my punishment master, I understand why you did it and I appreciate you for correcting me.” 
“Good girl, now lay down on your stomach while I rub this cream on your ass alright?” 
☾ NANAMI KENTO  
“K-Kento—” You moan, wrapping your arms tighter around his shoulders. 
“Shush, it’s okay love, let it happen, you’re alright.” He whispers into your ear, jackhammering his fingers into your wet cunt. You cry into his now-drenched shoulder, as Nanami finger fucks you to another orgasm. He whispers sweet nothing as you come down from another high, and collapse on his chest.  
“That’s right Love–jus’ relax for me.” he says, as he pulls his fingers out of your pussy and wraps his strong arms around your waist.  
“You relaxed now sweetheart?” 
“Mhm, thank you, Ken.” 
“You gonna tell me what happened?” He rubs your back, patiently waiting for you to tell him what caused you to come home on the verge of a breakdown. 
“I-I don’t wanna. It’s embarrassing.” You mumble ashamed that you let your co-workers get to you. 
“Nothin’ you say will ever make me judge you sweetheart. You know you can tell me anything.” He reassures. 
“I know Kento, thank you for always bein’ there for me.” 
“I love you, sweetheart. That means I'll always will there whenever you need me to be—in any way you need me to.” 
“I love you too Kento. Do you think we can go get some ice-cream then I can tell you what happened?” 
“Of course we can Love.” 
☾ GETO SUGURU 
“That’s it sweet girl–mm fuck–that’s it.” Geto grunts, sliding your pussy over his cock before lifting you and releasing his load on your thighs. You gasp at the sight of your boyfriend cumming on your naked thighs. Suguru sighs, the grip on your hips softening after several seconds. 
“Suguru—” 
“I know baby, I know.”  He reassures, bringing his hands underneath the hoodie you’re wearing. He caresses his hands up and down your sides. You blink sleepily about to fall into Suguru’s big chest before you remember the sticky mess between your tights. 
“Sugu, ‘m dirty.” You pout. He grins up at you. 
“The prettiest dirty girl I’ve ever seen.” 
“Suguru!” You slap his chest. He laughs ever harder, grabbing your hand to sprinkle kisses on your knuckles.  You smile down at him. He looks like the prettiest boy you’ve ever seen. Long black hair sprawled against the white pillow. Intense brown eyes that look up at you like you’re the only girl in the world worth his time.  
“Let’s get clean up dirty girl–C’mon, up we go.” Suguru picks you up by the waist and carries you to the bathroom. He sets you down on the counter before he grabs a clean rag.  
“Thank you, baby.” You whisper as you wash him clean your thighs. 
“No, thank you for bein’ so good to me sweet girl.” He stands up to kiss you sweetly. “Never thought I’d get so lucky—you’re the best girl, my best girl. Love you s’much.” 
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churipu · 3 months
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"SHUT UP, MAMA." 𓆝 ⋆。𖦹°‧
ִ ࣪𖤐 featuring. gojo satoru, toji fushiguro, nanami kento
ִ ࣪𖤐 warnings. fem! reader, husband! au, i made names for your children but feel free to disregard it
note. i remembered this tiktok trend, just figured i should write about how the jjk men would react to their child doing this.
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𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔
gojo had a day off. it's rare for a jujutsu sorcerer like him — being the strongest, he's an asset to the jujutsu world. so him being in a day off is like a miracle to both you and your seven year old son, who might i say, is an exact carbon copy of your husband.
"honey, you need to put your toys away. it's almost dinner time," you said from the kitchen, gojo by your side, ready to help you with anything.
"let me take that," he sings out, grabbing two plates from your grasp — you chuckled, letting him take the white colored ceramic disk, "looks good, baby."
as you and gojo walked out of the kitchen, placing the plates on top of the dining table. gojo pulled out your seat for you. habits die hard, the male has always pulled your seat out for you since the very first date.
your son. marise gojo. a boisterous little boy, absolutely loves to play with his rocket toys, and somehow believes he's a little astronaut. there he sat in front of the TV, playing with his toys, an astronaut helmet covering his small head.
"buddy," gojo calls out to the boy, "it's dinner time, clean up your toys. mama made some good food."
when gojo's call didn't work, you tried doing it next, "marise, your food's going to get cold, honey."
the young boy didn't make any visible movements, but you heard him yell out with his high pitched voice, "shut up, mama!"
gojo looks at you briefly. i mean — as a father, he couldn't believe his own son said that. to his mother. gojo wasn't one to get mad, in fact, marise is a total daddy's boy. but he felt angry, frustrated, annoyed, all at once.
he wasted no time leaping up from his seat, approaching the young boy. his smile no longer visible; gojo was unhappy. the male used one of his hands to take off marise's astronaut helmet, tossing it aside before grabbing the young boy by his small waist.
marise didn't complain, and he still has no idea of what his father is about to do. so he just sat still in gojo's embrace — until gojo puts him down beside you, "say sorry."
marise's bright blue eyes stared up at gojo in confusion, "say sorry to mama, marise."
it wasn't "baby" or "buddy" like gojo used to address him by, and marise wasn't stupid. he knew he did something wrong, but he just didn't get what or why his father is telling him to apologize to you.
"sorry mama . . ." marise's soft voice resounds.
"do you know what you did wrong?" gojo questions sternly.
marise shook his head, his eyes watering at gojo's tone of voice, "no papa . . ."
gojo sighs, he squats down and gazes into his son's eyes, "you should never say 'shut up' to mama or papa, okay? not to anyone, 'ts not polite. don't ever do that again, now say sorry to mama for saying that."
marise nods his head and turns to look at you, his eyes watering — it's not everyday that you get to see papa gojo get angry, "'m sorry mama, i will never do that again," the young boy finally cried, letting his tears fall out of his doe eyes.
you can't help but to smile at the young boy, pulling him onto your lap to cradle him, "don't do that again, baby. 'ts not polite," your fingers grazed his chubby cheeks, wiping his tears away, "and if mama or papa tells you to stop playing and eat, what do you do?"
marise sniffled, "stop playing and eat."
"good boy," you kissed his little forehead, "go give papa a kiss."
and that marise did, gojo immediately picking the boy into his arms with a big smile, "give papa two kisses, buddy."
sure, gojo is a fun parent. but he knows how to teach his children boundaries — what to do and what not to do. he's scary when he's angry.
𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎
megumi is the child that made you and toji think you both should have another child — fukuo is the child that made you and toji stop wanting more children. not saying that fukuo is a bad kid, but the boy is relentless.
with a pretty large age difference between megumi and fukuo with six years, sometimes megumi had to teach fukuo some manners, telling the younger boy what's right and wrong. when fukuo misbehaves, it's megumi and you to the rescue — while toji would usually chuckle it off since, well, he's a little minus on the manners part as well. but you're working on that.
toji said so himself, he wouldn't mind fukuo misbehaving on some things. but the male did set some boundaries up for both of his boys and how they should act well towards you (and him).
today, megumi is twelve and fukuo is six. both of your boys look alike, "mama, 'm gonna be staying late at school because we have a play coming, 'm gonna help my classmate decorate the stage," megumi tells you as he puts on his shoes.
"alright, baby. have a good day at school, i love you," you pressed a kiss on megumi's head, waving him goodbye.
as megumi disappears behind the front door, you walk back inside the house, "toji, wake fukuo up, please. 'm getting his breakfast ready," toji who had his eyes on the television curtly nodded, sluggishly walking towards the boy's room.
"hey, champ." toji approaches the boy, who was sleeping soundly, "your mother's made some good food f' you. if you're not gonna eat it, i'll steal your portion."
fukuo squirmed a bit, but his eyes were still shut tightly, "fukuo," toji gently shook the boy, poking his cheek.
like anyone, fukuo didn't like his sleep disturbed, "papa, stop . . ." he mumbled out, shifting his small body so his little back was facing toji, "five more minutes."
toji sighs, "five more minutes."
he then went out of the room, "he asked for five more minutes," he informs you — sitting back down on the couch.
"five more minutes," was not an unfamiliar statement to you, especially coming from fukuo who had always managed to, of course, butcher the concept of time right after. it was either an hour, or more.
so you waited five minutes, and when the young boy didn't emerge from his bedroom, you found yourself walking towards it, "fukuo? baby, come on, mama made you breakfast . . ." you turn on the light, which made fukuo subconsciously twitch.
"fukuo, come on, papa will eat your breakfast . . ." you shook the boy gently.
"shut up, mama."
you blinked in surprise, but only managed out an exasperated sigh at the boy's sudden outburst, until all of a sudden toji appears beside you — his hand wet, and he slides his palm across the boy's face with a serious look on his face.
"wake up, fukuo. i won't tell you this again," toji mutters out, "three."
oh, god. the countdown was every kid's nightmare, "two," including fukuo's — shown by how the young boy immediately sat up on his bed, "apologize to your mother."
fukuo furrowed his brows, "why?"
"you don't tell her to shut up. apologize." you were just there silently, a little shocked at how toji had become so serious when he's usually so laid-back with the boys, "say sorry and eat your breakfast."
fukuo swallows his saliva nervously and scoots over to you, "'m sorry for telling you to shut up mama, i promise i won't do that again . . ." he whispers, throwing his short arms around your neck — burying his face into the crook of your neck.
you pulled him close, carrying the young boy in your arms, "'ts okay baby, no more telling people to shut up, okay? 's not nice, it'll hurt people's feelings."
"okay mama . . . 'm sorry for hurting your feelings," fukuo pulls back slightly, pressing a chaste kiss on your cheek before facing toji, "'m sorry for hurting mama's feelings, papa."
toji placed his palm over the boy's face, covering it entirely, a sheepish smirk plastered on his lips, "go brush y'r teeth and eat your breakfast, mama made some pancakes."
𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎
nanami is such a girl dad. ever since he found out that both of you were going to have a baby girl, he's delighted. just knowing that he'd have a mini version of the both of you made his stomach churn in happiness.
hoshi. nanami hoshi is her name. it was a very peaceful six years of raising her — but they said there will be a devil baby phase, and here she was. whining, throwing tantrums over things she didn't get. it was honestly tiring, but you knew this was a risk of raising a child.
"hoshi, baby, please stand up." you cooed down at the girl who was lying down on the ground. in the middle of a mall, "mama and papa will buy that toy for you next time, i promise."
nanami was by your side, holding onto the baby stroller. his eyes were unreadable, you don't know what he had in mind, but the look he peered at your daughter was plainly and eerily terrifying.
yes, there are moments where he spoils hoshi with what she wants. toys, food, drinks, you name it. but there are times where he declines because he didn't want her to grow up too spoiled, "i wan' that toy, mama!"
you inhaled sharply, trying to slide your hand underneath her armpits to pick her up, but hoshi refused by kicking your hands away. her little kicks barely scratched you — but the people looking at your small family as they passed by definitely got a little kick to you.
"baby, people are looking at you . . ." you whispered.
"i don't care, shut up, mama!"
that was the last straw for nanami who had been silent. he grabbed your arm and tugged you up gently, nodding at you as if telling you to leave this one to him.
you backed away slightly, taking a hold of the stroller nanami had let go a few seconds prior as he squats down. forcefully but gently slipping his hands underneath hoshi's armpits, carrying her into his arms.
"mama said we will buy that toy for you next time, okay?" he sternly said, eyeing his little girl who was now silent as she gazed into his eyes, "and you never. never tell mama to shut up, do you understand?"
hoshi nods her head slowly, lips quivering at her father's sudden lecture, nanami's eyes visibly softened and he rocked her in his arms, "papa's not angry at you, hoshi. but papa wants you to know that telling mama to shut up is not polite, okay?"
again hoshi nods her head.
"go and say that you're sorry to mama," he pecked her chubby cheeks before letting her down onto the ground.
hoshi's little legs ran towards you, hugging your leg, "'m so sorry mama," she muffles into your leg, "i don't want the toy anymore, mama. 'm sorry for being a bad girl."
you squat down, nuzzling your nose to her, "you're not a bad girl, baby . . . mama and papa will buy you that next time, okay? we promise."
"okay, mama. i love you."
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© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE
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osaemu · 6 months
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GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ KISS IT BETTER ❜❜
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.ೃ࿐ streamer!au: he's surprisingly popular with kids, even if he doesn't quite know how to behave around them.
contents: fem!reader. he curses a couple times in front of the kid :<;
author's note: i don't rly like this one but it's fluff and we could all use a little fluff in our lives ꨄ︎
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"why is it so... small?"
you snicker at satoru's question and watch the kid exploring his room waddle around. one of his mom's friends asked him to watch her kid, so naturally, the first thing satoru did was call you. after all, he's basically the last person you'd want alone with a small child.
"she's so cute," you coo, hopping on satoru's bed and lying down on your stomach. the child in question turns her head and looks at you with soft doe eyes and tilts her head like a puppy. "aw, satoru, c'mere and look at her!"
your boyfriend shakes his head, still seated in front of his computer. satoru's not live right now, but he's focused on his screen as he jumps and dodges various obstacles. "can't right now, give me a sec— what the fuck?"
"language!" you hiss, sliding off of his bed and covering the small girl's ears. 
she looks up at your curiously, and in the cutest voice possible, repeats satoru's words with a wide smile. "what the fuck?"
it's all you can do to stop yourself from bursting into a fit of laughter, but as expected, satoru doesn't have that kind of self-restraint. when the girl says fuck, satoru laughs so hard that he leans back in his chair, not even noticing how another user eliminates him a second later.
"shit, that's so— sorry, i'm sorry!" satoru snorts, eyes tearing up with laughter. you glare at him and bite down your smile before snatching a pillow off his bed and hurling it at him. satoru catches it with one hand and buries his face in it to muffle his laughter.
you swat his shoulder with one hand and take the little girl's hand in the other as you plop down on the corner of satoru's bed. it's almost painful to swallow back the laughter threatening to tear you apart, but you figure that out of you and satoru, one of you has to be the mature one.
so you scoop up the little girl and hold her in your lap as she flutters her eyelashes at you innocently. you tap her nose and lean in, almost melting at the way she smiles back at you. 
"don't listen to him," you sigh, sticking your tongue out at satoru, who's still laughing away. he makes a face back at you, and, to his delight, the kid mimicks his expression.
"baby, you were so right," satoru snickers as he hops off his plush chair and strolls over to where both of you sit on the edge of his bed. he flicks the girl's forehead, but thankfully, his touch is gentle and feather-light. satoru's eyes soften as he studies the kid, and to your surprise, he lifts her out of your lap and ruffles her hair.
"she's so adorable," he whines, letting the girl pinch his cheek. satoru turns and widens his eyes at you in adoration. "i wanna keep her!"
you roll your eyes affectionately and stand up, leaning against his side and scrunching up your nose at the girl. "don't you have a game to get back to?" you huff.
"what game?" he replies, preoccupied with the child in his arms. satoru leans his face in closer to hers, and to your surprise and delight, she swats him in the nose. "oww, the fuck was that for?" he wails. satoru looks at you and pouts, glaring at the smiling child. "i think i need a kiss to make the pain go away," he says hopefully, eyes focusing on you. 
"am i really taking care of two kids?" you grumble, leaning in and kissing him on the nose. satoru nudges his nose against yours and his lips gently brush against your mouth.
you give satoru a second to enjoy your personal space, and then you shove him away. "we have an audience," you deadpan, gesturing at the girl still in his arms. her eyes look like they're fluttering closed, and her features soften with sleepiness.
satoru sticks out his tongue and sets down the girl on his bed, nestling her head in one of his many pillows and tucking her in. "you don't have a problem with me kissing you in front of eight thousand people," he huffs. 
"that's different!"
"no it isn't!"
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gyuswhore · 7 months
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Hits Different (...'cause it's you) (2)
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«« I trace the evidence, make it make some sense Why the wound is still bleedin' »»
PAIRING: kim mingyu x reader
SYNOPSIS: Kim Mingyu was the first friend your brother had brought home for dinner. Fast forward a couple years, his toothy smile and pierced ears would wedge their way into a permanent place in your heart. Nail to a coffin, never to escape.
or;
in which you get rejected by the only boy you've ever loved; a rejection you can't quite shake off.
GENRES: based off of 'Hits Different' by Taylor Swift, brother's best friend!au, brother!seokmin, fluff, angst, smut (in part 2) [MINORS DNI], friends(?) to lovers, university!au.
PLAYLIST: right here!
WORD COUNT (full fic): 40k (im actually embarrassed)
Part 1: 20.2k | Part 2: 20k
masterlist
WARNINGS : slowburn, angst, fluff, mingyus a bit of an airhead and an ass, reader has a hard time managing her feelings, lots of frustrated tears, one sided pining, user toruro x minghao make an appearance, swearing, there's another woman (gasp,,,,,but shes cool so), Nayeon is a darling, Seungcheol is kinda annoying here but we love him, smut, making out, breast play, fingering (f. receiving), p in v sex (protected + unprotected), oral (f. receiving) uhhhh i think that's it lmk tho
[A/N]: Part 2 !! shit goes down in this one so be prepared ig lmao. thank you for the love on part 1, i hope you enjoy the finale too hehe
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For the third time this week, you wish you could squeeze your brother’s brains with your own two hands and watch it explode like a grape without legal repercussions. Or parental ones. 
You slam your phone down on the counter after you end your conversation with him, frustrated as you watch the empty shelf where you left your dinner for today in the fridge last night, and the other green box that was actually your brothers. Refusing to eat the dry PB&J he usually packs for himself, you slam the fridge door shut, trudging out the door to leave for work, thoroughly annoyed at the prospect of needing to eat out. 
It’s gone forgotten for most of the day, that is until the clock hits eight and you feel your stomach grumble, immediately putting you in a sour mood as you remember you couldn’t enjoy your pasta because your brother was enjoying your pasta. You only had another hour left, supposing you could wait till you get home to make dinner yourself, not feeling the burger joint across the street in the slightest. Eating a moonpie to satiate yourself for the time being, you go back to stocking the shelves for the new LP shipment, making a vague mental note to ask Mingyu if Jia liked the gift he picked out a couple weeks ago. 
Your opportunity arises almost automatically as you walk over to greet whoever came in, abandoning the opened box of bubble wrapped LPs as you hear the bell chime softly at the front of the store.  
Mingyu was here (again), hands occupied with a bag, looking relieved to find you emerging from the shelves. 
“Oh, you’re here. I was afraid you left already,” he says, smiling slightly. 
“Would’ve been closed if I did.” You nudge your head towards the clearly unlocked door, donning the neon open sign. 
He looks a little dumb, turning to look at the door. “Oh. Right.”
You can’t help but smile a little. “Caught me at a good time though, I was just about to start wrapping up here.” 
He suddenly looks like he’s reminded of what he’s come here for, placing the bag on the desk next to him. “Seok told me to drop this off for you, he said it’s food.” 
Snorting, you take a look at the inside to find takeout from your favourite pasta place, which also happens to be your most expensive favourite pasta place. Seokmin felt bad enough to spend extra dollars on your dinner tonight, you guessed you could forgive him. 
You sigh as you speak. “And you strike as his errand boy yet again, sorry he’s been making you do all this.” 
“Did he piss you off?” Mingyu asks.
“Hm? He’s been pissing me off all week, this is him trying to get on my good side before I spit in his coffee.” 
He laughs at that, a toothy smile that has your stomach lurching. The flashback was brief but vivid all the same, his grin triggering a long forgotten memory. You could almost see the black studs in his ears again, his bangs falling in chunks on his forehead, his face turning into the boyish sixteen year old recollection on your kitchen counter, drinking cans of Monster and helping you lie to your mom. 
“Explains why he was ready to drop that much on a bowl of pasta.” 
“Hey, it’s good.” 
“I don’t doubt it.” He grins, “I’m gonna leave your pasta in your loving embrace, I have to feed my car now. Been putting it off till payday.”
“Oh, right. Thanks for dropping this off though, appreciate it.” You offer him a tight lipped smile. One that he returns, canines almost glinting in the light (but that’s just you). 
“No worries, I’ll see ya around.” You don’t remember what you were meant to ask him until he’s long jingled the glass door shut, walking to his parked car. You supposed it could wait, Jia would’ve liked anything he got her. You could ask him later, not wanting to have him turn around to answer the obvious question. 
The opportunity does not arise as easily as it did this time, a couple weeks passing in relative uneventful indifference, slow days at the store and nights in seven days a week. You were starting to wish you’d taken summer classes while you were stuck here anyway, the mundane days pushing you to believe you’d rather be busy than inexplicably bored. It’s not until your brother has a near mental breakdown from only having a sister as his main recreational contact that there’s a change. 
Mingyu sits on your couches in the dark, useless blanket thrown over his torso as both of his sock clad feet hang out in the air. To be fair, nobody’s looking at anybody as the eyes remain on yet another unnecessary explosion on the screen. You vaguely wonder how the ship hasn’t sunk yet. 
“What the fuck do you mean he’s been alive this whole time?” Seokmin utters, voice thick with the entire stick of butter he stuck into his bowl of popcorn. 
“Who funded this?” Mingyu mumbles from the other end, a deep frown etched on his face. 
“The people who funded the other three monstrosities.” You roll your eyes, inching your way into a sitting position, the ache making its way into the crick of your neck. 
“There’s more?!” The prospect had Mingyu hurtling into a sitting position, but not without his own set of winces as he feels the bones cracking and muscles aching. His hair is a mess, his hoodie nearly backwards, and you can’t help but laugh at the mildly confused and bewildered expression he has on. 
“Yeah, you wanna watch those too?” you ask through giggles.
Glancing at the final pub scene that’s playing on the TV, he's quick to mumble, “Fuck, no.” 
“I haven’t watched a real shitty movie in a while.” Seokmin groans as it’s his turn to stretch. “This was fun. Hollywood’s back.” 
Both you and Mingyu pointedly ignore his statement, your own mind debating whether you wanted to watch another movie. It’s not until you look up to see Mingyu doing something on his phone that you remember what you wanted to ask him. 
“Hey, Mingyu, did — Seokmin!” Your brother’s decided to begin his aerial stretches, touching his toes and cracking his back. You shift your head wildly to get a gap through his restless movements, eventually giving up finding Mingyu. He could hear you. “Did you – ugh – did you get to give Jia her present?” 
You aren’t sure what it is, but the way the question has Seok landing on his heels mid tip toe stretch and how Mingyu’s eyebrows shoot up, you don’t doubt you’ve touched on something sensitive. There’s a part of you that wonders if it’s too late to take it back when both boys make eye contact with each other, but your brother beats you to it. 
“I, uh…forgot to tell her,” he lowtones. 
You look to your brother and then to Mingyu. 
“We broke up.”
Oh.
“Oh.”
“Yeah.” Mingyu smiles a little awkwardly, and Seok makes a strangled sound that may have been a laugh of his own. Or a cough, you aren’t too sure. “But…she did like the present, when I gave it to her anyway.”
“Oh, that’s…that’s good,” you manage, not knowing what to say. “Sorry that happened though…sucks.” 
“She ended it–” that has your own brows shooting up in disbelief. Kim Mingyu got dumped? “–over the phone, she decided she wanted to stay home for a while to figure out what she wanted to do. Uni wasn’t cutting it for her here…” 
“I mean, good for her, I guess. Hope you’re doing okay, though.”
He blows air out of his cheeks, scratching his neck. “I mean, we’re fine. Ended it on good terms.” 
Seokmin’s still standing awkwardly staring at the still running ending credits for something to do. “Should we get food?” 
“I don’t know, are you hungry?” Mingyu asks.
“How is the heartburn not getting to you yet? You basically emptied the country’s dairy reserves in a single popcorn serving,” you grumble. 
“Don’t underestimate my ingestional abilities,” he retorts.
Mingyu stares for a moment. “Aren’t you lactose intoletrant or something?”
Seokmin turns to him, mouth open as he points his finger, “You know, I might be.” 
“No you aren’t, if you were lactose intolerant then I’d be lactose intolerant,” you shoot. 
“Explain the empty can of air freshener in the bathroom after queso and chips?” 
“Have you considered during queso and chips that queso is a dip and not an optional beverage?” 
Mingyu’s cutting between you two before you can go on with your bickering, afraid he’d have to physically peel you off of each other if it goes on, “Let’s just go to a drive thru, you can get your lactose or…non lactose options however you like.” 
That’s how you’re shoved into the backseat of Mingyu’s car, Seokmin fiddling with the GPS to find the nearest McDonalds. 
“How do you not know where the nearest McDonald’s is, you live here,” Mingyu hisses as he takes his fourth right turn in a row.
“We always just order in, who sits in a car and goes to McDonalds.”
“Us apparently,” you lowtone to Mingyu from the back, picking at a crusty flower that you found in between the seats. They ignore you. 
“Okay, I think it’s this one. Dude, get a new GPS, this one responds after fifty years, of course it’s gonna take this long.” 
Their own bickering is starting to zone out into a buzz in your ears as you stare at a patch of leather behind Mingyu’s seat. You vaguely considered that you’re falling asleep. 
The streetlight has other plans, however, when you sense something glinting in the sudden light underneath the seat. Your interest is piqued, moving forward to see what it was. Mingyu senses you shifting and asks you what you’re doing. 
You don’t answer him as you shuffle around to catch sight of it again. And then you see it, a tiny necklace on the slightly dirty mat, a circle charm with a single ‘J’ in the center. You aren’t sure why you froze at the sight, the gold glinting prettily even in the dark. Leaving it there, you emerge from under the seat, trying to seem nonchalant. 
“Nothing. Thought I saw something.”
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Mingyu’s common occurrence in the bookstore is starting to concern you, never catching him as the type to read something other than the occasional bad riddles on the back of a cereal box. You stand corrected however, as you find yourself trying to find a hardcover for him on the computer system, mumbling incoherently.
“Never knew you read.” 
“Well, now you do. This one’s really good though, you should read it too.” He notes, motioning towards the paperback version he brought with him for the book he’s finding. 
You snort at his suggestion. “Have you realised this is one of the most popular books in its genre right now? Hard to find someone who hasn’t read it.”
He frowns at the revelation, “Oh. None of my friends read it.”
Seokmin hasn’t opened a book for recreational purposes since he was twelve. As for his other friends…they didn’t exactly seem like the smart type either. You get up to move to the shelf the computer’s indicated, trying to walk off your annoyance at a particular memory before it begins to show. Mingyu follows you in your pursuit to find his book, skimming the shelves himself as he strolled behind you. 
“Oh, right, how’s that exhibition thing going? Forgot to ask about it,” you ask as you spot the box of the hardcovers at the top of the shelf. You grab the ladder that rests near the wall as he answers.
“It’s going pretty good, nearly done. I just need to send the final pieces over – what’re you doing?” 
You grunt as you begin to climb up the metal ladder, trying to get to the box. “Getting your book, genius.”
“Wait–” He moves to grab the ladder at the base as he watches you step higher. “Get down! I’ll go up instead.” 
“You get cold feet at the bottom of an escalator, be serious, Mingyu,” you grunt as you pull the box towards yourself, the ladder shaking with the force it takes, and it has Mingyu gripping the metal tighter. You pull the familiar cover out before closing the box back up. “There.”
“Why would you keep supposed bestsellers there, isn’t this like, in demand?” He grumbles as he continues to hold the ladder as you climb back down. 
“Ran out. Need to restock them at the front, but I’ll do that tomorrow.” You huff as you jump the last step, earning a loud yelp from Mingyu. 
“Chill out,” you chuckle as he puts the ladder away. “Okay, do you want me to look at anything else for you?”
“What would you recommend for my next imaginary adventure?” he asks as he picks out a random book from the shelf, trying to find the blurb. 
“Not that one.” You scrunch your nose at the sight.
“This one I know is popular. What’s wrong with it?” He chuckles as he puts it back.
“Don’t believe everything you see on the internet,” you call out as you walk back to the front.
“And believe you instead?” 
Oh, you wish.
Picking up your current read from the front of the store, you wait for him to reach the end of the opening where you stand to hand it to him. 
“You can decide that for yourself. Haven’t finished it yet, but it looks super promising. Try it out if you want.” 
He barely looks over the glistening title before handing it back to you, and you nearly assume he didn’t want it. 
“Ring both of them up,” he says, and then with a pause he continues, “And anything else you think is good too, I don’t really care.” 
Deciding you’d test the waters with this first recommendation, you only cash him in for two. He doesn’t question it as you do your job behind the desk, making casual conversation as he waits for you to find the right barcode. 
“How far are you with that one?” 
“The one I gave you? Just touched chapter 20, I think.” 
He only hums in response as he pays, grabbing the bag that you push towards him. 
“Let me know how you like it,” you comment before he begins to turn to leave. 
“‘Course.” He grins, and you can't help but grin right back. He leaves you in the store with a slight heat coming up to your cheeks, and a wad of gum in your mouth to keep your stomach in check. 
By the time the next day rolls around, it’s been nearly 24 hours before you hear from him again, his contact seemingly only ever gracing you within the walls of the bookstore – except he isn’t physically here. Mingyu texts you, and you nearly fall out of your chair at the sight of his name on your phone. 
It’s near embarrassing how quickly you pick up your phone, passcode going wrong once, twice, thrice…you decide it’s the top five worst times your phone’s refused face ID. You’re slamming your fingers onto the screen harder than you should, watching the warp in the pixels at the pressure. By the time it does open its secrets for you, the annoyance has settled. Not at him though. 
[Mingyu]: hey [Mingyu]: i got to chap 20  [You]: what [You]: how [Mingyu]: started reading when i got home [Mingyu]: and then i got to 20 [Mingyu]: i think i pulled an all nighter [You]: you think? [You]: was it that good [Mingyu]: couldnt put it down [Mingyu]: i wanna talk about it but my eyes are closing  [You]: you know where to find me when you wake up
The typing ellipses don’t pop up after that, and you assume for the better that he’s succumbed to his afternoon drowsiness. If he was serious about that all nighter (which you don’t doubt, no way he could’ve plowed through twenty chapters and gotten any sleep), you assume he’ll be knocked out for at least the rest of the afternoon. 
Smiling to yourself at the thought of him wanting to text you about your matching achievements (and actively pushing your mind away from the blessed image of a napping Mingyu), you find yourself scrolling up the conversation, trying to remember the last time Mingyu had texted. That was easy to find out as the short scroll past the sparing details from your photography adventures landed you straight into late last year, a sparse conversation regarding your brother’s whereabouts when he wouldn’t answer his phone. 
You remembered the conversation. As mundane and ordinary as it was, it was difficult to forget the way your hands were shaking as you typed your one word replies, how your breathing was coming out uneven at a mere text back. You could argue there was less of that this time round, proud of yourself for learning to control your emotions better. 
There’s a train of thought that leads you to every recent interaction you’ve had with him. The conversations where you could look him in the eye, your relative indifference when he would show up unannounced, the disappearance of the wad of emotions in your stomach at the mere mention of his name. 
The latter may be slightly untrue, but you can't help but note how the ounces of fear within the concoction is gone. You were never quite sure what it was that you were so afraid of, perhaps the fateful night at Seungcheol’s party had answered that question for you, but still. 
“Seok’s not the type to beat me up if I dated his sister. And besides…” He sighs, halting his words.
“Besides what?” Somebody chimes in.
“I’m not interested in going after someone who’s chased my tail for the past fifteen years.”
Despite telling yourself it was the alcohol talking, maybe even a couple puffs of whatever — the mild disappointment remains. Thinking about the weeks following that, the moping and the hurt, you almost don’t blame Mika for acting the way that she did. 
Your brother had always been oblivious to all the frolicking in your heart that would ignite as Mingyu would enter the room, and for over a decade at that. And yet, it was during those weeks that he had noticed you acting like you had been dumped, asking you what on earth was wrong with you. 
“Did somebody say something to you?” he asks.
“Huh?” you frown, annoyed at the way he's planted himself directly in front of the cabinet that held your beloved moonpies. 
“You’re acting like you’ve been rejected by the love of your life. Nayeon’s not telling me anything and you’re being avoidant, what is up with you?” He huffs, hands on his hips. 
Oh, if only he knew how right he was. But you weren’t upset because the love of your life rejected you (anymore, at least), you were upset because he was a public asshole. 
It takes more coaxing from him to get you to start talking. It’s easier when he brings out the big guns: “D’you want me to tell mom?”
You tell him a little, not naming any names, much to his dismay. “Some guy was an ass, something about me being too easy or whatever.” 
“You’re upset because some drunk dude decided to run his mouth?” He scrunches his nose at the thought. “Ignore him, he’s stupid.”
“Thanks for the help, I’m cured,” you deadpan, pushing him aside to get to the gold inside the cabinets. 
“I could get Mingyu to help me beat him up, I just need a name.”
Oh. You briefly wonder how he'd feel if he had to beat up his best friend.
More than his attempts to sound like a cool older brother, the image of Mingyu beating himself up brings you more amusement than anything else. You crack a smile at the thought. 
That was months ago, yet you can’t seem to forget the hurt. Trying to shake off where your thoughts were taking you, you get up to take a walk around the store for something to do, fixing microscopic displacements on the shelves and wondering if you should restock something, only to realize you’d already done that when you came in, not wanting to whip out the ladder again to restock the ones you'd just landed from.  
Landing inevitably back behind the counter, you instinctively reach for the book wedged beside the computer. Your outstretched hand stops midway, thinking about how Mingyu’s reached as far as you in the story quite literally overnight. Retracting your hand, you decide you’d wait. 
The bell chimes signaling a customer, and you find yourself grateful for the distraction.
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It’s nearing 8:30 when you decide you should close early. It was slower than usual today, the few walk-ins leaving without purchases too hefty, rendering you bored in your seat for most of the day. You’re locking the drawers of the main desk when Mingyu walks in with the familiar tune of the bell chiming, soft smile as he greets you quietly. 
“How was your nap?” you ask, trying not to giggle at his still dazed expression. 
“Pretty good, didn’t wanna wake up though.” His voice remains relatively coarse, and you don’t miss the light indent on his left cheek. It’s endearing, enough to have you wishing you could cup his face in a loving squish. 
But you don’t. 
“You don’t say,” you comment. Pointing at your own cheek as you continue, “You sure you don’t wanna take the night off too?” 
“Fuck,” he whispers as he looks down to fumble for his phone to see for himself in his front camera. The puffiness hasn’t gone away entirely, evident when he’s frowning and looking downwards, and the urge to squeeze comes hurtling back. 
“Did you drive like this?” 
“Uh, no, I walked.”
“Walked?” You try to comprehend if that was even more dangerous. He only nods. “Why?”
“Wanted to see you.”
It takes effort to not clutch your chest at the way your heart leaps. Kim Mingyu, you bastard. 
“Had to talk about the book.”
Your voice comes out a little more breathless than you’d like, but you hope his drowsiness skips over it. “You could’ve texted.”
He pauses as he mulls it over. “I mean, yeah…I don’t know. I just put my shoes on and came here.”
You decide you’d spare him the brain power and continue your remaining closing duties, talking to him as you move around the store. 
��We can take my car to my place, better than getting distracted here.”
He only nods in response. “Do you want any help?” 
“Nope, just need to turn off the lights and lock the doors. Let me grab my bag.” 
By the time you’re home, an XL pizza and drinks in your arms to satiate Mingyu’s post nap ravenous tendencies, you drop down on the couch with a huff. Seokmin hears the ruckus and appears from his room, not wasting time to break on the pizza with Mingyu as you leave to freshen up. By the time you settle with your own slice it seems as though Mingyu has roused himself significantly more than before. 
“Okay,” you huff as you land on the soft cushioning, “What did you think about the book?”
“Hard to believe this is her first book, it’s really good.” 
“Her world building is amazing, some of the best I’ve read.”
Your back and forth discussion grows increasingly passionate, forgetting the fact that your brother was also right there excluded from the conversation. His head shifts back and forth as the both of you converse, utterly lost. It would’ve been funny, except neither if you were actually looking at him. 
He manages to get a word in as one of you pauses for breath. “Since when do you read?” 
Mingyu gapes at the question, seemingly trying to find an answer. “Recently.”
“Why?” 
“What do you mean why? I just wanted to start reading,” he scoffs in a manner that could be described as exaggerated. If he’s trying to throw Seokmin off his scent, he’s succeeded, as he watches Seokmin get up and announce that he has work to do. That leaves the both of you alone. 
The conversation takes you into the late hours of the night, Mingyu’s prior nap releasing him from the chains of reasonable sleeping hours as he remains wide awake despite the 3 AM time on the dial. You manage to keep up with him, even when he follows you to the kitchen to brew a coffee. 
“Do you usually work this hard just to make coffee?” he asks as he watches you discard the used espresso puck. 
“We have a bottle of the instant stuff here somewhere for when I’m lazy,” you explain as you pour the fresh shots into the prepped ice and milk. “Doesn’t taste the same though.” 
“Coffee is coffee,” he says as he stirs the drink you push towards him. 
“Quite the contrary. Besides, the instant stuff fucks with my stomach, I’d rather not.” You take a sip of your coffee, glancing at the sink. “Will say, hate everything I have to wash afterwards.”
“I’ll do ‘em later, gotta pay you back for all the manual labour that went into this thing,” he refers to the latte he’s sipping on currently. 
“The appreciation is enough. We can make Seok do them in the morning for being a loser and going to bed early,” you snort. Mingyu laughs at that, the image of Seokmin doing dishes while the both of you sleep in. 
“You sure you don’t wanna call it a night?” he asks you as you place yourself on the kitchen counter. 
“I’m having fun, Mingyu, seriously. I’m off tomorrow too, I don’t have to wake up,” you reassure for the nth time. 
He doesn’t reply, only stares up at you from his leaned position. He’s chewing on his lip, and you find yourself unconsciously chewing at your own, the already raw skin stinging at the abrasion. Mingyu’s hands come up to your face slowly, like he knew it was hurting as he pulls your bottom lip to release it with his thumb. 
“You’re gonna bleed,” he whispers. His hand that grasps your chin doesn’t move, rough thumb continuing to graze at your lip lightly. 
“You never stopped picking at your lips, did you?” he wonders out loud, eyes trained on your mouth. 
Your own hand comes to lightly grip at his forearm. He remembers your habit, picking at the skin of your lips since near middle school, getting yelled at when you had to excuse yourself from the dinner table when they would bleed. 
“Old habits die hard.” Your voice is thick despite the gulp you had to take before opening your mouth. 
It was true, probably too much as you continue to look at his near perfect face. The oldest habit, the hardest to die. 
Mingyu drops his hand, landing it in your lap, your own hand still gripping his forearm. You aren’t sure what’s going through you as you trail your hand up further, to his wrists, to the dip of his palm, landing on his fingers. You grip his hand, tight this time. 
“I’m gonna jump,” you whisper, and you feel his grip tighten around yours as he braces to support you off the counter. 
You face him in silence, contemplating, “It’s hot in here, let’s go back out.”
He watches as you pick your cup off the counter and leave, not waiting for him to follow you. He finds himself trying to take deeper breaths, stalling, but not for long as he joins you back on the couch.
It probably came as a shock to both of you the first time Mingyu announced his leave much earlier in the night, when you stopped him, asking him to stay. It was silent for a few sparing moments as you both absorbed what had come out of your mouth, trying to make sense of it. You found yourself needing to coax him a little more to convince him he wasn’t overstaying his visit, that you were having fun. He sits back down, warning you that this was going to be a long night. 
You don’t think you could ever forget the absolute somersault your stomach performed, the after effects leaving you still as a plank. 
It was a long night indeed. And yet, when you found your eyes closing after a fight, much later on the couch with a large blanket shared between the both of you, Mingyu watches you doze off while leaning on the couch facing him, wishing the night was longer. 
If you were awake, you probably would’ve found yourself agreeing.
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There’s a lot Mingyu has to learn about himself. He’s reminded of the fact nearly everyday. Especially right now as Seokmin runs his mouth sitting with him at a secluded booth in some bar. 
They had company, a couple guys joining them for dinner before leaving not too long after. That left him and a slightly tipsy Seokmin alone, who’s currently munching on a platter of crackers in front of him. He was bright enough, the energy from the others keeping him going as they played their drinking games and ate their obnoxious amounts of food. It was alot more somber with only the both of them left, his mood deflating as their friends slowly dwindled in number. That wasn’t about to stop him from ordering another beer though. 
“Summer’s so boring,” he grumbles in dejection, flicking a stray crumb off the table. 
“You chose to stay here,” Mingyu replies. 
Seokmin doesn’t answer him, but continues to look like a kicked puppy, a slight pout forming on his face. 
Mingyu fights the urge to scoff, “You can’t possibly be this upset about summer being depressing.” 
“It’s not about that.” 
Mingyu takes a swig of his own drink before sighing loudly, “What’s this about then?”
Seokmin says your name, and Mingyu is suddenly very interested. “She just seems to be doing a lot better since she started working at the bookstore.”
“Better?”
 “She told me about this guy a couple months ago.”
Mingyu’s trying really hard to not look visibly deflated, not that Seokmin would notice considering his state, but he attempts to sound nonchalant regardless. “Do we know him?”
“I – no, that’s not,” he huffs in exasperation, “She said she overheard him, basically calling her easy.”
“Easy?”
“I don’t know, something about her chasing his tail or whatever, she won’t tell me who it is. She hadn’t been doing too great recently and I’m pretty sure it was because of him.” 
It is dawning on Mingyu, embarrassingly slowly, that the guy Seokmin is talking about — may be him. 
His voice is hoarse, a little frantic. “And she’s doing better, you said?”
“Oh yeah, the bookstore’s been amazing for her. Not sure how though, ‘cause she just sits there doing nothing for hours.”
He can’t bring himself to meet Seokmin’s eyes, remnants of his memories flurrying around in his brain in an attempt to figure out what other bullshit he had spewed that day. He was sure you weren’t there, you couldn’t be.
“Maybe doing nothing was what she needed.” Mingyu’s reply is whatever came to him off the top of his head, mind still racing. 
“Hm, I guess. I was trying to get her to tell me, we could’ve chopped his dick off together,” Seokmin grumbles.
Mingyu winces slightly, eyes tight shut as he pinches the bridge of his nose. There’s a protective hand that subconsciously reaches his crotch area. “Yeah, yeah totally.” 
“Fucker got let off easy, he should be happy she’s doing good.” Seokmin continues to ramble, voice getting increasingly louder. 
“Yeah…”
“She’s not easy. My sister isn’t easy at all! Running after his tail, my ass! She doesn’t need some motherfucker with bad hair to be running his mouth, drunk as a bitch.” He stabs a single chopstick into the spare piece of meat on his plate, and the force has Mingyu flinching slightly. 
“How do you know he has bad hair?” Mingyu continues to stare at the impaled piece of beef that Seokmin brings to his mouth. 
“I don’t need to know a motherfucker to know he uses shitty hair gel.” 
Mingyu may try to run his hair gel past Seokmin at some point. But right now, he’s only trying to make it out of the bar with his sex organs intact.
“Hey, we’re past this, remember? She’s doing great right now and that’s all that matters.” Mingyu sounds overly flustered, but he can’t bring himself to care as he attempts to reign in an angry Seokmin. They were garnering looks, and the last thing he wanted was to get kicked out before they had paid. 
Seokmin is still huffing and puffing, but significantly less so as he finds reason in Mingyu’s words. “I’m gonna find out who he is.”
“You hate living in peace.”
“My sister’s hasn’t had any peace because of this dickwad, I’m—” 
“OKAY! Okay, got it. We’ll figure that out when you’re sober.” Mingyu rises from his own seat as he finds Seokmin lifting his own butt off his chair in a near war cry. 
He manages to fend him off, waving for the bill before he has to pull him back from aimlessly marching to whoever’s house he had in mind. He calms down as they wait for the check, finishing the remaining scraps on the table in silence. 
Seokmin seems nearly back to his regular self after a few minutes, forehead creases smoothing over during his cool down time. He speaks, except this time it’s in a more socially acceptable manner.
“Hey, I’ve been noticing, you and her have been getting pretty close lately. I don’t know, it’s just, I woke up and saw both on the couch and —” 
“Here’s your bill!” The waiter cuts him mid sentence, placing the check on the table. 
Mingyu knew what Seokmin was getting to, and he was thanking every star in the galaxy for bringing the waiter into their lives at that exact moment. He’s quick to fuss over the glossy piece of paper, humming and making comments at their purchases to fill in any silent opportunities to let Seokmin continue. Mingyu’s slips his card in the wallet.
“It’s on me,” he announces as he flashes a quick smile to the waiter. “You can cut a ten for yourself.” 
“Wait, what — let’s split, what’s wrong with you?” Seokmin jolts up as registers what’s happening a little too late. 
“It’s fine, you can pay for the next one.” He says as he shifts around the table to look for his phone. “You should probably go to bed too, it’s getting pretty late. Sleep off the beer and whatnot.” 
Seokmin is left speechless as Mingyu gets up, grabbing his stuff. 
“Wait, your card—” Seokmin starts. 
“Is here,” Mingyu spews a quick ‘thanks’ to the waiter, waving his card in front of Seokmin so he’d finally stand the fuck up.
“Do I need to drag you out of that chair, let’s go!” he says, grabbing Seok by the arm to lift him off his seat. It was nearly funny how he couldn’t get him to stay within the vicinity mere minutes ago and now is begging for him to get up. 
By the time Mingyu’s jamming Seok’s key into your apartment, he’s tired of his endless rambling. He can only appreciate his drunk brain for not bringing up the last question he tried asking him. He’s opening the door, urging Seokmin to walk inside, slapping him awake from his nap against the wall.
Mingyu deems it best to physically put him in bed for the furnitures’ sake, pushing him in front to lead him to his room. Mingyu’s spent by the time he’s done and Seokmin is snoring, his back cracking from the hunched position he’s kept from tucking him in and taking his shoes and jacket off. 
He tiptoes out (despite knowing it’d take a marching band to wake him up at that point), closing the door as quietly as possible. 
“What’re you doing here?” 
Mingyu nearly jumps out of his skin, landing a mile as he hears your voice in the dark hallway, hand coming up to his heart. “Jeez— announce yourself, would you?” 
“In my own house?” you raise an eyebrow. 
“Just—” he waves you off as he comes round, standing straight. “I was putting Seok to bed.”
You inhale sharply. “Did you drink?”
“Me? No, but he’s knocked out right now, he’s probably gonna need a pill in the morning,” he replies. 
“Hm, I’ll see to it in the morning, or whenever it is that he wakes up.” 
“Yeah.” Mingyu is standing awkwardly in front of you in the dark hall, not having anything else to say. “I’ll get going now.”
“Oh, right, yeah. Get some sleep,” you say as you let him move past you. 
“You too, don’t know why you’re awake,” he chuckles quietly. 
“Couldn’t sleep, I’ll go to bed now though.”
The awkwardness is painful, Mingyu can feel it in his chest. But what he’s feeling more is the way you look in your night shirt now that you’re in the light of the living room, legs shown farther up than you’d usually let them go. He wonders if you're wearing shorts underneath, but slaps himself out of it when he realises he’s been silent for too long. 
“Uh yeah, I’ll go now. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Mingyu.”
Mingyu replays the last five minutes in his head the entire car ride home, when he’s changing out of his clothes, when he’s brushing his teeth, when he crawls under the warm covers to finally call it a night. Mingyu thinks about what he said all those months ago at a dumb party, how he’s hurt you more than he thought he had. There’s an ache that plunges into him, the thought of you going through that because of him while he stayed blissfully unaware. 
He doesn’t know what he’s gonna do to make it up to you, but right now, he’s happy. Happier than he’s been in a while, falling asleep to the thought of you. 
“Goodnight, Mingyu.”
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You, on the other hand, are far from happy as you find yourself in yet another car related predicament. 
Having to run to work in the middle of July is never a preferred option, yet you find yourself needing to do it anyway when you walk out to your engine refusing to start. 
You really needed a new car. 
Abandoning the hunk of what was turning out to be just expensive scrap metal, you rile other options out in your head. 
Seokmin was long gone with his car. The bus was gonna take too long. No way in hell were you about to overpay a taxi to take you somewhere that was essentially just a 15 minute walk (read as run). 
So you find yourself slinging your bag as a crossbody, thanking the heavens that you at least didn’t need to change your shoes. You pray for your white sneakers as you run across town, blurting apologies to passerbys that would gape at your hurried form. As apologetic as you were, it didn’t compare to how sorry you felt for yourself, the heat pricking your skin in an agitated rise anytime you’d slow down. 
The AC is near heavenly as you gasp walking into the bookstore, red faced and hair sticking to your forehead. 
“Sorry,” you gulp frantically. “Sorry, I’m late.”
“Oh god,” you hear your boss comment as she sees you walk in. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah, I just need a minute. Car broke down.”
She ushers you in front of the AC, waiting for you to collect yourself before taking her leave. 
“I think I’m okay now, sorry about that.” Your chuckle comes out a little choked. So much for being convincing. 
“You really should get a new car. I have a friend who’s daughter is selling hers, do you want me to ask them for you?” She’s patting your shoulder as she talks to you, and you recognize her courage to look past the sweat that’s accumulated there.  
“That’d be great actually, thank you.” 
Your second blow of the day comes right after you’ve finally gotten rid of the buckets of sweat on your body, seating yourself behind your desk to do some digging of your own.
You immediately wish you hadn’t as soon as you open the first second hand market site, the price tags landing you somewhere between never happening and impossible. Groaning, you place your head in your hands as you try to think of what to do. You pray your boss would come back with a quote that isn’t as outrageous as everything else you’ve cursed your eyes upon, seeing as that seemed the only viable option for you. 
Closing the windows off your computer, you decide this was a headache for another time. You reach for your bag to rummage through it, only to find yourself in your third predicament of the day. 
You had forgotten your book. 
It shouldn’t have been a worry, considering you were in a bookstore and had access to about 56 more of the same edition that you could borrow for the day. Except it was a worry, because your copy had been religiously tabbed and annotated as you would read, not a single thought left to be forgotten in your head as they would spring up. You can almost see the pink cover sitting on your desk and you nearly begin to cry. 
You wonder if you could break your ‘one book at a time’ streak for the sake of it, picking up another one off the shelf to start. The thought nearly makes you gag, the anxiety of losing interest in your current one leading you to sit aimlessly at your desk for the rest of the day. 
What’s even more anxiety inducing to you, however, was the promise you’d made with Mingyu the week prior, to be finished with the book by the end of today so you could finally decide whether the end was worth it or not. The thought has you nearly picking up a copy off the shelf anyway, annotations be damned. Force of habit, however, forbids you as you are shunned by yourself to play solitaire for the rest of the day. 
Things seem to look up for you though, as you find yourself reading a text from Mingyu nearly halfway through your day. 
You hadn’t spoken to Mingyu at all for the entire week, caving when you found an excuse to finally talk to him to ask where he’d left off on the book. It was even longer before that, reaching the near three week mark where you were virtually zero contact.  
You’d be lying if you said it didn’t bother you, his sudden absence raising a mild panic within you as your mind raced with the possibilities. 
Was he uncomfortable with you? 
Was he avoiding you? 
Were you less low key than you thought? Was he catching on to how you still weren’t over him? 
The wilder thoughts seemed to be laid to rest when you couldn’t take it anymore, texting under the guise of your mutual book topic. Your brain still couldn’t handle it, picking up minuscule details in his texting behavior. Perhaps his replies were choppy, perhaps they were shorter than usual, but it was enough to give your mind the rest it needed regardless of whatever the facts were. 
Needless to say, you were more than happy to receive a text from him first after weeks, immediately replying. 
[Mingyu]: hey  [Mingyu]: are you at work today?  [You]: yeah  [You]: i get off at 10 tho  [Mingyu]: can i see you today? 
You try to contain the growing flurry of excitement as you type. It was easier to stay casual over text, you find yourself appreciating. 
[You]: course [You]: are you coming to the store?  [Mingyu]: i’ll meet you at your place when you get off  [You]: okay!!! [You]: see you then 
There’s a ghost of a smile on your face as you switch to playing computer chess in celebration. Your day was going horribly, but perhaps it was to balance out the happiness you were feeling at the thought of seeing Mingyu in person after nearly a month. 
Were you being dramatic? Possibly. But you figured you’d been left waiting long enough. You let yourself have a spring in your step for the rest of the day, closing up nearly an hour early as you practically skipped back home, enjoying the significantly better nightly weather. Maybe you were abusing your employee privileges, but you couldn’t take the anticipation anymore. 
Humming to yourself, you're hopping into the shower as soon as you get home, wanting to freshen up as quickly as possible before he gets here. It was near heaven’s plan the way the day is unfolding for you. Perhaps the universe knew you needed the time to unwind today, bringing Mingyu to you despite the near four week gap. 
Grabbing your pens and your book, you settle on the kitchen counter to do something you’d been looking forward to all day, nearly giddy that Mingyu would be joining you to wind down with you soon enough. You’re invested by the time the doorbell rings, a simultaneous text from Mingyu, confirming that he was at the door. 
Opening the front door is probably the easiest thing you’ve done all day, grin at the ready as you greet him. 
“Hey,” you breathe out at the sight of him. 
“Hi,” he replies, slipping inside as you give him space to take off his shoes. 
Leading him into the kitchen, you comment lightheartedly, “Nice to see you’re still alive.” 
He chuckles slightly at that, “Yeah…sorry about that. I’ve been pretty caught up with…stuff.”
“The exhibition? Weren’t you nearly done with that?” you question as you pass him a glass of water. 
He takes a sip before setting it down again, both hands holding the cup on the counter. “It wasn’t that, I’ve been done for a while. Just waiting.” 
“It’s next week, isn’t it?” 
He hums in response, taking another minuscule sip of water.  
“What was it that was keeping you this occupied for so long then?” you continue with a slight snort, trying not to over analyze his slightly…off putting behavior. 
“Uh,” he starts, “Is Seokmin home?” 
“Seokmin?” you frown, confused. Was he here to see your brother? “He’s out. I thought you knew.”
“Yeah, I know. Just confirming.” 
“Oh.” You sit down on your own chair at the counter, trying to make sense of his mood. 
“Mingyu, are you okay—”
“I need to talk to you.” 
“O-okay.” 
It’s silent. Painfully so. 
“I don’t know how else to bring this up so I’m just gonna cut to the chase.” 
There’s no reply from your end as you simply stare at him in anticipation, wondering what on earth had him looking this serious as he faces you in his seat. 
“I know I’ve done a lot to hurt you. Never enough to match what you’ve felt, but I know you’ve been through the muck because of me, and it makes me feel horrible that I was the cause of something like that.” 
“Mingyu—“
“I want to apologize, before I say anything else. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. And I know an apology isn’t gonna take away what I did to you, but I just need you to know that I’m really, really sorry.”
His breathing is heavy as he talks, while yours is near nonexistent as you need to remind yourself to breathe manually. 
“I’ve done a lot of growing up in the past year. And I hate myself for making you a subject of that transition when you were the last person that deserved it. I’m happy to say that won’t happen again, because I’ve learned my lesson. For good.”
He pauses. 
“I’m not asking you to forgive me, because… because I don’t know if I’ll ever deserve it for what I’m about to say. I may be acting selfish right now but, I think you deserve to know after everything.”
“I love you. I love you so, so much it hurts. I…I’m sorry, I love you. I don’t know how else to say it but, I love you. And I might be hurting you even more with this but I swear I’m not lying. I love you.”
There’s tears now, heavy ones that drip down his face as he refuses to look back up at you, eyes screwed shut in a desperate attempt to halt the pure emotion that’s trailing down. 
You have your own wet cheeks, glossy, shaking eyes that don’t tear away from his hunched form. You’re listening. You’re listening to everything and it’s too much. 
“Mingyu,” you whisper. You give up on trying to talk as you let out a breath that sounds almost like a sob. 
It’s silent for a few more moments as you absorb everything that’s happening, mind running a hundred miles an hour yet, still as a rock. It’s too much. 
“Mingyu, I can’t believe you’re saying this to me.” Your voice is quivering, but you manage the words. “After everything. You’re standing in this very kitchen and saying this to me.”
The deja vu was overwhelming, and you’re projected back to last year when the both of you stood on these very tiles, as you poured your heart out to the man in front of you, only to be told you were an idiot to think he could ever love you like that. The words may not have been said, but the message was clear: you were not made for Kim Mingyu. 
And yet, you find yourself in front of an apologetic man, expressing his remorse. And oozing love for you, of all people. Why now? You want to scream. Where was this when you were ready to take him so willingly in your arms. 
You’re lying if you say you still don’t want to plant yourself in his hold to sob out your own wretched “I love you”’s. You wanted to go to him. To take what you’ve wanted for so, so long. 
But you can’t. You can’t do it. 
“I know,” he whispers. “I’m not asking you to do something about any of this. I’m not asking anything of you at all. I just need you to know.”
You bite back a remark, trying so hard to calm yourself down. 
“I think you should go.” Your voice breaks. “Please.”
Mingyu is gone. But his scent lingers. His cup remains on the counter, the same one he put his lips to. As he prepared to speak, and speak, and speak. 
You can’t stand to stay in the kitchen anymore. 
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You were fourteen the first time Mingyu broke your heart. 
It was an accident, perhaps, considering you were willing to do absolutely anything to be around Mingyu when your brother would have him over. What you didn’t know this time, was that the both of them had company. 
Tiptoeing down the hall was easy the second you heard your brother's voice coming from the kitchen, announcing that he was getting drinks for them. The plan was simple; walk in under the guise of being annoyed at Seokmin for something and then relish when Mingyu would defend you from his inevitable rage — except this time you’d have a few extra minutes alone with him before your brother trudged back.  
Putting on the best annoyed face you could, you stalk past Seokmin’s room, immediately wishing you hadn’t. Mingyu was in your brother's room as expected, sitting on the floor, surrounded by papers with numbers and letters too complex. But he wasn’t alone. There was a girl that sat between his legs, turned over in his arms as they whisper to each other. They weren’t studying at all; the giggles and smiles were a dead giveaway. 
You halt in your tracks at the edge of the doorway in mild disbelief, brain computing the situation in front of you. They hadn’t noticed you yet, it was apparent with the way she leans into him to place her lips on his in a peck. 
There’s a yell of your name behind you as Seokmin sees you loitering around his room. You jump in surprise, not expecting him back so quickly. Your brother, too, isn’t alone, a girl of his own accompanying him with her arms full of cans, peeking over his shoulder to catch sight of your distressed form. 
“What’re you doing?”
Running was the worst thing you could do, and yet you found yourself doing just that in your cornered state. Catapulting face first into your pillows, the sobs coming before you could muffle them. It was humiliating, even more so when you feel your mother’s hand coming up to your shoulder in a stretch of comfort. 
“I yelled at him, he won’t do it again!” she attempted to reason with you, trying endlessly to get you to emerge from your cavern of comforters. 
“It’s not that!” you groan.
“What is it then? Darling, I won’t know if you won’t tell me.” 
Your mother gave up a little bit after that, and your brother had apologized for yelling at you; apologized for all the wrong reasons. You brushed him over.
There were worse things circling your mind in that moment, like the image of Mingyu in a liplock with another girl, the image of him holding her with all his limbs. 
You couldn’t imagine anything worse than that.
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“What the fuck, is wrong with the both of you?” Your brother swoops in like a pesky seagull and snatches the book right out of your hands, eyes blown in exasperation. 
“What the fuck is wrong with you?! Give it back!” you yell, reaching for the book that he’s placed over his head. Climbing the couch does little when he simply moves away from you. 
“Not until you tell me what’s going on between you and Mingyu.” 
“Nothing is — ugh,” you drop back onto the couch in frustration. You take a deep breath. “Nothing is going on. Now can I have my fucking book back?” 
“No, you're avoiding each other.”
“He’s your friend, why would I hang out with him?” 
“Stop dodging the question!” he spits. 
“Stop dodging.” You exclaim as you jump for the book another time. 
“Why don’t you want to go to the exhibition?” He throws the book to the corner of the room. It takes every fiber in your body to stop yourself from plucking every strand of hair off his head. 
“Seokmin!” you scream. 
“Your book’s fine. Is this about the guy you told me about?” He asks, hands grabbing you by the upper arms, forcing you to look at him. 
“No, it’s not,” you grit. 
“Why don’t you want to go to the exhibition?” he repeats, making direct eye contact. 
“Because,” you start, exhaling deeply, “I’m tired.”
“It’s an exhibition for fucks sake, an exhibition with your face plastered all over it. You go in for five minutes and you’re out. Put something on and let’s go!” 
“I don’t want to go.”
“I’m not taking no for an answer. You’ve been doing nothing but go to work and stay home, you need air.”
“I need you out of my air,” you swat his hands away, thoroughly disgruntled. 
“I’m giving you twenty minutes.” 
He was serious, you realize as he begins to pound on your door with two minutes left to spare. You decided you weren’t about to be embarrassing and show up in your sweatpants, encasing the final shreds of dignity you had left. You couldn’t imagine being asked “who?” when the face on the walls doesn’t match with the one you brought to the place, not doubting the number of fancy scouters that’d be gracing the crowd tonight.
 Opting for a plain black dress and a coverup felt enough for you, your usual makeup and matching accessories helping you feel better about the bags under your eyes your concealer couldn’t quite erase. 
Seokmin says nothing for probable fear of having you landing back on the couch, choosing to ask you a simple, “Ready?” instead.
The drive is short and silent, the remnants of you and your brother's prior argument still hanging in the air. You weren’t about to apologize to each other, but you would let the hours cool you off before you’re back to your normal selves. For now, you’re glad to step out of the stuffy car, the anticipation having you needing to breathe in an elevated sense. 
The place is more crowded than you thought it would be, men and women in fancier than necessary clothes loitering the entrance carpeting. You suddenly feel underdressed. 
Catching Mingyu’s name is easy, the display at the front doing the most to highlight the star of the night, catching sight of him is proving a little more difficult. Not that you’re trying, but Seokmin’s embarrassing neck stretches are having you restraining yourself from pulling him down by the collar. 
Walking into the display is a strange experience, for you at least. The pictures are larger than you’d thought they would be, spanning the giant walls of the gallery. Your face is huge. 
There’s a few other one’s that scatter between the portraits, beautiful all the same. You find yourself wandering as you note the plaques next to the pieces, descriptions and words from the artist; Mingyu’s words. It’s easy to begin looking at the pictures through his eyes, the meticulous scanning you’re doing proving easier for you to zone out despite the crowd. 
You’ve gone through nearly every picture, approaching the last one, the one that looked a little more important than the rest as you take in its size. The steps you take towards the plaque are halted as you hear someone calling for you. You recognize his voice, how could you not?
Mingyu is weaving through the crowd to get to you, eyes locked as he tries to make way for himself. Your mouth is open by the time he’s here, mind frantic as you try to figure out what you should say. 
Congratulations.
You’ve worked hard on this. 
This looks great.
How’ve you been?
“You’re here,” he says, simple as that. 
“I’m here,” you breathe out, a nervous smile on your face as you look down at your shoes. 
“Seok told me you were here too.” 
Your head snaps up, “You were looking for me?” 
“I mean, it’s a bit difficult with the crowd—”
“Oh,” you cut him off before you could forget. “Congratulations, by the way. The turnout looks great.”
“Uh, yeah. It’s great.” His eyes skim around the large hall.
You hate how his craning is drawing your eyes to everything else. So to say the plain black button up and slacks he’s sporting, the thin chain he wears around the unbuttoned collar. You hate how he’s put in no effort, and you hate how it makes him look even better somehow. 
“Are you enjoying yourself?” he asks after he rounds back to you. 
Your reply is drowned in your throat as somebody calls for him across the hall, pointing at a mic in their hands. 
“I have to go address everyone, you’ll be here, right?” he asks, but he once again has no chance to listen to your answer when somebody physically drags him by the elbow and yanks him away from you. You lose sight of him in the crowd of people, his face disappearing.
It gives you enough opportunity to slowly turn around to go back to your plaque reading, exhaling loudly as you walk up to the final, biggest piece on the wall. It’s labeled as the focal point of the collection. It’s a picture of you, and for some reason, you can’t remember taking it, or posing for it at all. 
You recognize the mountain top, more so the grueling trek up the place for your last shoot with him. It’s a side profile, your arms folding over the railing, face tucked into your padded arms. A single ray of light illuminates your eyes, the background soft. 
The picture was an accident. A moment that may have gone forgotten, yet one that appeared right when it was meant to. A mistake made on purpose, one that manages to carry the weight of years. A slow accession of golden rays, dawn illuminating the subject in hues indescribable, except those that describe a feeling. A feeling in turn, indescribable.
Soft. Legible. New.
You take a step back. 
And another
Then another. 
You look at the picture, the picture of you. Taken the one time you weren’t actively posing for the camera, the one time he wasn’t meant to take a picture of you. It landed here, at the seemingly deserved position of a final piece. The piece that was meant to emulate all that the artist wanted to come out of his work. 
You crane your neck up higher, the name of the collection in bold block letters right above the picture that supposedly says it all. 
THE BEGINNING
There’s a ball forming in your throat, one that's cementing itself where it stays. 
There’s noise happening in your peripherals, somebody speaking into a mic on stage. You’re not paying attention until you hear his name. 
“I’m pleased to present to you the man of the hour, mister Kim Mingyu…” 
You watch with glossy eyes as he takes the stand, clearing his throat before he begins to speak. 
You needed to leave. 
Finding Seokmin is easy, and you thank every plane of heaven that it is, considering you’d rather be caught dead than be seen red nosed and teary eyed. 
“Let’s go home.”
“Huh? Right now? He just started talking.” Seokmin argues, tearing his eyes away from the stage to gape at you, only to note the expression on your face. “Hey, what’s wrong?” 
“Seokmin, you said five minutes.” You grip his sleeve tight. “Please, either give me the keys, or I’ll get a cab.” 
He pauses for a moment, and you immediately hate yourself for making him choose between staying for his best friend or leaving for his sister. He slowly comes down to grip your hand, pulling you away. 
“Let me drop you off home.” 
You’ve calmed down a significant amount during the car ride home, managing to convince (fight) Seokmin into going back to the exhibition hall before Mingyu noticed that he was gone. You wouldn’t forgive yourself if you made him miss something as important as this just because you couldn’t control your emotions.
He hugs you at the door, tight, and you hug back just as strong, holding back the river of tears that suddenly threaten to let loose. He presses his lips to your temple, muttering a little ‘I love you’ before he leaves. He knew nothing, yet was ready to comfort you like he did.
You let yourself sob after that, as wracking and strong as they’d come. It’s freeing, to fall to your knees and simply cry like a child. You aren’t sure what it is that you’re crying about, yet you know all the same. The thought of both those things make your head begin to spin, causing another fresh wave of tears to come rushing down. 
Remnants of the day Mingyu spoke his truth to you in your own kitchen come tumbling back; the shock, the anger, the hurt, and despite everything, the love.
You loved Mingyu, you weren’t going to sit here and deny it when you were a mess of jewels on the floor with only his face at the forefront of your mind. You’re a liar if you say you don’t love him. You’re a liar if you say you’ll ever stop. 
Years and years of pining and wishing and praying, to hope that one day, Mingyu would open his eyes with the realization that he loves you the same. 
The day came. Your prayers were granted, your wishes came true; you no longer had to sit on the sidelines as an ignored constant. And yet, you found yourself wanting to be anywhere but in his presence as the prayer unfolded. 
Were you too weak to handle reciprocation? Have you gotten comfortable pining by yourself? Or was it something completely else. Were you still hurt by his words? Were you aghast at his audacity to have the courage to speak his heart to you, when you went years without doing so? 
Were you protecting yourself? Or were you actively throwing the golden chance you’d received right out the window? 
You’re tired, it’s evident with the effort it takes you to simply reach your bedroom, heels thrown somewhere in the doorway as you made the trek barefooted. Hoping your muscles would release the pent up tension at the learnt feeling of the mattress, you find yourself closing your eyes awaiting the relief. 
Still clad in your dress and makeup, you attempt to find the solace of sleep, knowing you’d feel nothing if there was nothing to perceive. The universe doesn’t seem to want to give you that luxury, your eyes wide awake despite closed lids. The thoughts aren’t showing signs of slowing down either, every part of your mind alive as you remain still as a rock on your bed. 
You aren’t sure how long you’ve been in bed, but as you hear the distinct jingle of keys in a lock, you know Seokmin is home. The door of your room is opened very quietly, and closed just as quick when he sees your form in bed seemingly asleep. 
You open your eyes for the first time in hours, the darkness remaining as you slowly sit up against the cushions. Your movements are sluggish as you stare into the abyss, brain quiet for once as you swing your bare legs over the mattress, slowly trudging down the hall to your brother's bedroom. 
Knocking slowly, you hear a slight shuffle before the door is opened, the light from inside the room illuminating the dark hall and forcing you to squint. 
“Did I wake you?” Seokmin asks, sporting formal trousers with his dinosaur pajama shirt.
“Uh, no, I was awake.”
“Why haven’t you changed yet?” 
You ignore him, cutting straight to the chase, “Can I borrow your car?” 
There’s silence for nearly three seconds before Seokmin speaks, “What on earth do you need my car for this late at night?” 
“Nayeon’s” 
“Bullshit.”
You let out a loud, loud sigh, “Will you believe it for now?” 
Your brother looks at you with an expression you can’t really pinpoint, eyes like he’s scanning into your soul. “The keys are at the door.”
You walk back to your room to grab your phone and your cover up, not bothering to change as you grab Seokmin’s keys and leave. It probably wasn’t a good idea to leave the house so late at night, but your brain seems to have activated tunnel vision as you nearly stalk towards the car. You’re pulling up to where you need to be within minutes, the empty roads leading you on near autopilot. 
By the time you’re standing in front of the door, your desire to settle this once and for all turns pungent in your head. You needed to end this one way or another, you were tired of running in circles. 
Ringing the doorbell is easy, it’s just the realization that settles during those few moments of waiting that grab you by the throat. You were really doing this. 
Mingyu opens the door quicker than you’d anticipated, after briefly wondering if he’d already gone to sleep after the long day he’s probably had. His brows furrow as he registers you at his door, your name tumbling out of his lips in mild confusion. He’s still in the clothes you saw him last, and you doubt it’s been long since he got home too. 
“Promise me you mean it,” you say. 
“What?”
“Promise me you mean it.”
“Mean what?” The crease between his brows deepens as he tries to make sense of what you’re saying. 
“Whatever you said. Promise me you mean it. Promise me. On all the years we spent together, on every truth you've ever said to me. Promise on me that you mean it.”
The silence is deafening, yet you wait. You wait for him to respond. You wait for him to understand what you’re saying. 
Mingyu gulps before opening his door wider, expression neutralizing slightly as he invites you inside. “Why're you standing on the door? Come inside.”
“I’m not taking another step in your direction, Kim Mingyu, not until you answer me,” you snap. 
Letting his hand leave the grip on the door, he brings them both up to rub at his face, taking a simultaneous breath, deep and shaky. When he emerges his eyes are showing a hint of red as he licks his lips. 
Your grip on your own fingers tighten as Mingyu talks. 
“I want to rip my heart out for what it wants from you. I want to rip it out for what it did to yours. Believe me when I say I’ve forgotten how it felt to be this sincere. I love you. I don't deserve to say it, but I love you.”
There’s a beat that passes, one that you barely feel as you throw your bag on the floor of his entryway, grabbing him by the collar with both hands as you yank his face down to hover right in front of yours, nose touching, lips not quite. 
“If you’re lying to me,” you whisper, shaky voiced, “I’m gonna chop your balls off.”
Mingyu answers for you as he finally, finally closes the cursed gap between you, lips capturing yours in a long awaited kiss. You let him pull you inside as you move your lips against each other, the distinct click of the door signaling you were finally inside. 
His hands grip your hips and waist in a manner that’s near painful, yet you can’t find yourself complaining even as he pushes you against the now closed door, hard. His mouth leaves yours for what is barely a second, before your desperate hands move his face back in to continue what you’ve been wanting to do for years. 
His mouth is warm, the vaguest hint of champagne on his tongue. You wonder how many toasts he’s clinked and downed, how many times he thought of you as he celebrated. 
“I love you,” you mumble against his lips. 
Mingyu’s hands are pushing your body against his own, so flush and tight you can barely breathe. Like he’d rather die than bring space between the two of you in that moment. 
“I love you, too,” he mumbled back between kisses. “I love you so much.”
Both of your hands are beginning to roam, less innocent than the fingers tangled in his hair and digging into his shoulders, less innocent than the grips on your hips and neck. It isn’t until his hands are groping your ass that you begin to subconsciously tug at his shirt, wanting the wretched thing out of the way to finally feel him in full. 
There’s a warm hand that grips yours as he stops you, lips pulling away slightly as he rests his forehead against yours. There’s a wild moment of sobriety as you wonder if you’ve read the situation wrong, if you pushed too far. 
“You’re asking me for something I’m ready to give you.” He sounds breathless. “But I need to know if you really want it.”
He looks absolutely gorgeous with his swollen lips, your lipstick staining his own mouth, his messy hair from all the desperate fingers running through them. It takes one look into his bedroom eyes to have your yeses tumbling out your mouth. 
“I want it. I want it if you’ll give it to me. Mingyu, please.”
He leans in to give you a soft peck before pulling away slowly. “You can stop me whenever, just say the word.”
He’s facing you as he speaks, hands pulling you further into the house in slow and steady steps. “I’m not gonna do anything you don’t want me to, I promise.”
By the time you reach the four walls of his bedroom, you’re itching to have his hands on you again, something he senses as he presses his hot mouth to your awaiting lips. His touches become decreasingly respectful as his hands run up your sides, thumbs brushing against the sides of your clothed breasts as he moves his mouth further down. 
Kisses line your jaw, reaching the joint as he nips at your earlobe teasingly. Pushing the coverup off of your shoulders is easy, fingers tracing the exposed skin as his mouth moves down to your neck, nipping and sucking teasingly. Your breathing is embarrassingly heavy. 
“You’re gorgeous,” you hear him breathe out. 
His fingers fit under the zipper of your dress not too long after, pulling it down to reveal your back tantalizingly slow. His hands smooth over your waist once he reaches the bottom, bringing them up to your upper body as you feel his palms grab your breasts in a soft squeeze. The moan you let out is small, but enough to encourage him to bring his hands to the straps of your dress, pulling them down your shoulders one after the other. 
“Do you realize how good you looked in this today,” he says. “Was so happy you came, so, so happy to see you after so long.”
Mingyu kisses you again in a slow, passionate manner, hands pushing down the tight fabric of the bodice to let it fall off your body to a pile on the floor. It leaves you bare save for your bra and panties. 
Mingyu lets out a groan at the sight in the dimly lit room, the sound checking in as one of the hottest things you’ve ever heard, the vibrations leading straight to your core like they belonged there. The focus goes back to his hands that continue to roam your body, mouth traveling further south to leave hot, open mouthed kisses on your cleavage. 
Your own fingers come up to fiddle with the buttons of his dress shirt, managing to pull a couple loose as you whine, “Mingyu.”
“Patience, my love.” He moves you backwards slowly as his mouth leaves your chest, pushing you into the plush of his mattress as you feel the back of your knees bump into the edge. “Let me take my time with you.”
He brings a knee up to the bed as he keeps his gaze on you, beginning to unbutton the rest of his shirt as you prop yourself up on your elbows. For once, you’re allowed to stare at the sculpt of his chest and abdomen, letting your gaze take you to the dipped V before the cut off. The mere sight of his fingers working against his belt have you needing to close your thighs for the sake of your now throbbing core. 
Only clad in his dark boxers, you let him climb over you in a way you can only describe as a prowl, inserting himself between your legs as he pushes your head up to the headboard. The hand that splays out on your thigh is having the muscle twitch, the anticipation for what he might do next gripping you. 
“Let me get this off of you,” he says with his hands toying with the elastic of your bra, prompting you to arch your back so he could reach under to unclasp it in a way you can only call professional. 
There’s barely any time for you to feel a semblance of embarrassment when he flings the padding away, mouth coming in direct contact with your breast in a harsh suck. The feeling has you moaning his name into the dark room, only encouraging his wet tongue to circle around the bud before going back to suckling. He doesn’t forget your other breast as he brings his hand up to squeeze the mound and play with your nipples the same. 
The sensations are overwhelming already, your hands gripping his hair in desperation as you throw your head back at his ministrations. The ache in your underwear is becoming increasingly difficult to resist, the foreign feeling of his mound against your inner thigh only coursing more want into your awaiting heat. 
Your chest is a mess of redness and saliva but the time Mingyu’s had his fill, pulling away to admire the work he’s left. 
“Fuck, Mingyu, please,” his name is the only thing that comes out in your pleas, hoping he’d give you wanted before you lost your mind for good. 
“I love this lighting on you,” he says simply, moving to sit on his knees as he takes his eyes up and down your practically naked frame. 
Both hands come in to push your thighs further apart, giving him better access to the gold that sits right in between. “You’re beautiful.” 
You feel the pad of his thumb come in contact with your clit in the lightest pressure, slowly brushing over the muscle as he continues. “The most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen.” 
He presses his thumb in further, pushing down to meet your hole, the source of the large wet patch on the fabric of panties. The whimpers the new feeling is having you let out are near embarrassing. Hooking his fingers around your panties, he asks, “Can I take these off?” 
“Yes!” you gasp out immediately, hip rising to let them slide the pesky fabric off and away. 
He wastes no time in bringing his fingers to your folds, gathering your arousal in his fingers as he spreads them across your throbbing clit. He’s rubbing the area in circular motions, the feeling having you wracking out sounds you never thought you could make. The sheets are bunched up in your grip as you throw your head back at the feeling that encases you, eyes screwed shut. 
“Oh, Mingyu,” 
That only encourages him as his other hand joins the party, a lone finger circling your entrance in preparation to plunge into you, slowly, all the way to the hilt of his finger. Zoning in on the feeling, the pump of his fingers into your core, the constant ministrations of his other thumb on your clit. Your hands leave his wrinkled sheets as they come in to grip his wrists and forearm, needing to feel his skin to anchor yourself into the present. Not being able to bring yourself to open your eyes, he takes it upon himself to insert another finger, encouraging your lids to fly open at the stretch and the loud moan that comes with it. 
“God, you’re so fucking wet, I’m barely pushing.” It may have embarrassed you a little if you weren’t so withdrawn from pleasure, the prospect only having you whimper his name even more. 
It isn’t when he curls his fingers inside you that you feel the need to stifle the sounds that come out of your throat, hand to mouth as the volume has you needing to shut yourself up. He brings his hand off your clit to grab you by the wrist, freeing your mouth of restraint. 
“Don’t,” his voice gravelly as he gets off his knees to hover over you, his other hand continuing to pump his fingers in and out of you in perfect motions. “I wanna hear your voice. I wanna hear all the pretty sounds you’re making.”
He leans in to place a chaste kiss on your mouth, fingers quickening their pace as your sounds grow louder, “Mingyu, I think I’m…I think I’m close.” 
“It’s okay, let go whenever, darling, it’s okay.” His other hand goes back to its rightful position on your clit, thumb circling the bud in quick motions as he encourages you to climax. 
And you do. The blissful release comes crashing into you hard, the feeling leaving nothing but white hot space in the expanse of your brain, letting the feeling take over as you melt into the sheets. “F-fuck…”
He doesn’t stop either hand till you physically have to push his fingers off of you, the overstimulation coming in hot. 
You don’t come around for a little bit, but feel every searing kiss he leaves on your skin in the aftermath. Pressed into your chest, your collarbones, you neck and your jaw. He makes his way up to your face slowly, pressing his lips onto your closed lids as you wait for your breathing to even out. His face is the first thing you see when you open your eyes, leaning forward to press your own lips against his. 
“How was that?” he asks slowly, and you don’t miss the hint of a smirk on his face. You can’t help but break into a smile of your own. 
“Great.”
“Great?”
“Amazing.” You lean in to kiss him again, palms coming in contact with the expanse of his back as you move your mouths together. It’s not long before your fingers reach the waistband of his boxers, hands coming up front to feel him through the fabric, palming him in the process. 
You feel him shudder in your hold, lips pulling away as he stares into your eyes. 
“What?” you ask in a whisper when he makes no other moves. 
“I’m trying to think if I have condoms or not,” he whispers back, and you can’t help but let out a laugh at his delivery. He begins to giggle with you, backing up as he reaches over to rummage through his nightstand. 
“Fuck yeah,” you hear him say as he comes round with the shiny pack. He’s giggling as he undoes the wrapper, the lighthearted nature of it all bringing a laugh to your own lips. 
Pulling his underwear down and off, you watch as he preps himself with the rubber, your own hand coming up in a trance to stroke his gorgeous length lightly, his palms ghosting over your hand at the feeling. Once he decides he can’t take it anymore he’s grabbing both your wrists to pin them beside your head in one swift motion, earning a gasp from you at the abruptness. 
“I’m gonna put the tip in first, let you adjust before I go in further,” he explains as he uses his knee to push your thighs apart to grant him more access. “I’m gonna listen to you throughout, okay? Just say so if you want me to stop, I’ll hear you.” 
When you don’t reply he continues, “I need to know you heard me, baby.” 
“I heard you,” you answer, and he finally lets go of one of your hands to guide his length to your entrance, gathering your remaining arousal. He’s sliding his tip across your folds, grinding onto your clit within his length and it has you nearly careening off the edge. 
“Mingyu, in, please!” you beg, and you hear him chuckle before he’s finally pressing the tip into your prepped hole. 
You almost breathe a sigh of relief as you feel him begin to push into your hot core, keeping his promise of only getting to the tip, before bringing himself out and going back in. He’s slow as he stretches you out, his hands coming up to the sides of your head as he tucks his face into the crook of your neck. Lifting one of your legs, you wrap them around his waist as you grant him further access into you, one of his hands coming up to keep your raised leg steady. 
He halts when he finally bottoms out, pausing for breath. “You okay?”
“Yeah, just,” you manage, arms wrapped around his shoulders tight. “Give me a second.” 
When you give him the green light and he begins to move out slowly, only to thrust back in, you find yourself settling into the sheets more consciously, ready to take what he was about to finally give you. You’re both a mess of whimpers and sounds, the feeling overtaking any shreds of restraint you had left. His hands are groping you everywhere, his fingers finding your breasts again as he begins to toy with your nipples, all while thrusting into you at a steady yet equally maddening pace.
He feels amazing, beyond just his dick. The feeling of his body pressed against yours is heavenly, the tears beginning to slowly prick at your eyes as you let yourself melt into his hold, a metaphorical layer away from morphing into his skin entirely. The sounds he’s making are pure melodies, the groans, grunts and heavy moans floating around in your otherwise empty head like they’d never ever leave. They do more when they encourage the building feeling in your abdomen, your moans growing increasingly erratic. 
If the bed is creaking from his incessant thrusting, you don’t hear it. The only thing ringing in your head being the near closure you’re about to receive from him. “Gyu, I’m…”
“Shit, me too.” he grunts, and you believe him as his movements begin to grow sloppier, his hips slamming into yours with more force than before. 
And then it’s bliss, the feeling dropping in on your body as you feel yourself begin to spasm in his hold, the loudest moan ripping from your throat at the sensation. You’re contracting around him so, so good, and it’s enough to have him moaning into your own ear as he feels his climax come over him as well. 
He’s shooting his load into the rubber, and for a wild moment you wish he’d rip it off and finish inside you instead, your blabbering brain wanting to take all of him in. The fever passes in a few heavy minutes, Mingyu’s body is dropped on top of you, his length remaining inside your warmth as you both relished in the post sex haze. 
He’s first to pick his sweltering body off of yours, the cool air hitting your skin as he pulls out of you slowly. You’re still trying to come to earth, even when you hear the water beginning to run in the attached bathroom, even when he walks out in a fresh pair of boxers, walking over to your form on the bed. 
His fingers run through your hair as he places soft kisses on your temple, coaxing you to open your eyes. “Come on babe. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
When you make no moves to get up despite opening your eyes, he’s physically pulling you up to grace your head on his chest in an effort to take a step back into the world. His fingers continue to thread through your hair, massaging your head lightly as you breathe in his scent. You do end up getting up and letting him lead you to the bathroom, but only after he threatens to carry you there over his shoulder. The bath is already drawn when you dip your feet into the warm water, planting yourself inside as you lean against the walls of the tub.
“Gyu, why is it warm?” you whine, wanting a cooler temperature to hit your sticky body. 
He chuckles as he sits by the tub, hands coming in to wet your hair for you, “I’m scared your body’s gonna go into shock if I chucked you into a cold bath. You’ll feel better in a minute, love.” 
You don’t argue as he does most of the work for you, shampooing, scrubbing and conditioning. He lets you sit in the tub for a little bit as he leaves to get you a towel and a shirt, coming back to continue coaxing you to leave the tub this time. You grab his outstretched hand, pulling him down to sit next to you again. 
“Sit with me for a little bit, right here,” you say as you lean over the edge of the tub. 
“I can sit with you in bed once you’re dried up,” he tries to reason. “Under the covers. Where it’s more comfortable than hard acrylic, remember?” 
Pouting a little, you let him wrap you in a towel as you admit defeat, too tired to argue much more than that. He continues to shrug one of shirts over your shoulders, going as far as drying your hair before finally letting you crawl back under the covers. He joins you soon after, wrapping his limbs around you in a tight embrace, breathing in the mix of his own shampoo and your scent. 
“Are you okay? Did I do too much?” he asks quietly.
“Mhm,” you hum into his chest. “I’m okay.”
There’s a deep vibration in his chest as he finds your lack of response amusing, looking at your face that looks about three seconds away from slipping into dreamland. Nearly, he realizes, as your eyes are suddenly pushed wide open, a gasp leaving your throat. 
“What? What?” Mingyu asks as you sit up all of a sudden scrambling to find your phone. 
“My phone, where is it?” you ask as you ruffle through the covers. 
“Did you bring it with you?” 
You suddenly remember your bag that you threw in his entryway a couple hours ago, your phone nestled inside. Swinging your legs over the edge of the bed, you attempt to stand up to retrieve it, only to find out the universe wasn’t about to let you do that. You don’t miss Mingyu’s chortle as he watches you nearly fall over after wobbling around like a fawn, your arms trembling as you pull yourself up back on the bed. 
“What the fuck?” you breathe out. 
“Get back on, I’ll get your bag for you.” He’s still smiling when returns, throwing your purse on the bed. 
You immediately unlock your phone to find Nayeon’s contact, choosing to leave her a text considering the late hour.
“What is it?” Mingyu asks again as he watches you type, arms coming up from behind to engulf you in his hold again. 
“I told Seokmin I was at Nayeon’s. He didn’t believe me but I’m telling her to cover for me anyway.” 
“Oh.”
The thought comes to you later than it should have, realizing you’d have to involve Seokmin in…whatever this was, sooner or later. 
“Don’t,” you hear Mingyu say behind you.
“What?”
“Don’t. I know what you’re thinking about. We can deal with Seokmin when we need to, don’t think about it right now, that’s my job.” 
“I-”
“He needs to deal with me being serious about you,” he continues, giggling, “Even if I have to make you run away with me.”
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” 
He brings your wrist up to his mouth, placing a kiss there, “It won’t. I promise.” 
The sitting up thing doesn’t last for too long, both of you wanting nothing more than to lay down for the lack of energy. Limbs are a tangled mess as you both lay in silence, tired but not wanting to go to sleep just yet. It stays that way for a while, head on his chest as you take in the aftermath of everything that’s happened. 
You just had sex with Kim Mingyu. He loves you back. And you know he means it. This isn’t a hyperrealistic childhood fantasy, this is real life. You’re touching him, he’s holding you, you can hear his heart beat, you can feel his skin under the palm of your hand. 
You’re distracted from your thoughts as you sense Mingyu reaching over the edge of the bed to his nightstand as he looks for something, bringing his hand over to show you a very familiar pink cover in his hands. 
“Oh,” you let out as you recognize the title, snorting as you remember where the verdict for that ended, “We were supposed to talk about the ending.”
“We could do that right now.”
“Uh, about that,” you say. “I never actually got to finish it.”
“You were supposed to be done like two weeks ago,” he frowns.
“I didn’t get to finish it the day…the day you came over. Couldn’t bring it in myself to touch it after that.” you say as you note the little tabs sticking out the sides, wanting to address them. 
“You can use this one to finish it then, it’s yours.” 
You glance up at him as he talks, opening the book to skim through the pages. And then you see it, tiny scribbles on margins, sticky notes at chapter ends with his thoughts, colorful tabs sticking out of every highlighted line, everything complete with a color coded key in the front.
“I saw you do it with your other books, found out it’s not actually a crime to write in books and…I guess it became fun.” he explains as he watches you flick through the pages. “I was gonna give this to you at some point. Sounded like a thoughtful idea in my head.”
You don’t answer him, simply facing him in silence before continuing, “I would’ve been sucking your dick right now if I wasn’t so tired.”
He throws his head back in a loud laugh, the high pitched noise sounding across the room as he nearly curls up from the hilarity. You don’t think it was that funny, but maybe it’s because you were telling the truth. You’re pretty sure you’ve joked about wanting to do that to someone who’d do something like this for you, perhaps you could find the transcripts hidden in some text messages with Nayeon later to show Mingyu.
 His laughter is contagious regardless, giggles of your own coming out as you watch him practically lose it. 
“I think you need to go to sleep,” you comment through bouts of laughter. 
He sighs a vocal sigh as he calms down slowly, agreeing with your suggestion that the near morning delirium was getting to both of your heads. You rest your newly acquired, yet equally prized possession to the side, finally turning in for the night as he reaches to turn his night lamp off. 
Mingyu moves to press his forehead into yours, not before placing a tiny peck into your lips as he mumbles against them in the dark, “I love you.”
“I love you,” you hum back as you press your lips together one last time, finally letting his breathing lull you into sleep. 
The mattress is foreign, so is the pillow, and so are the scents that linger in the room. It’s colder than you’d usually have it and the blankets feel different on your skin. And despite the most foreign thing in the room, the one that has his arms and legs wrapped around you, the one that whispered his love for you into your skin before drifting off, you find yourself falling into a sleep that’s more blissful than any you’ve had in a very, very long time. 
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The sun is doing nothing to help itself against the tide of annoyance tht rises in your sleepy state. You’d get up and yank the curtains but can’t bring yourself to have the motivation to leave the soft mattress, simply bunching the blanket up to your face to block out the remnants of sun rays that invade the room. You’ve nearly lulled yourself back to sleep when you start registering noises coming from outside the bedroom walls, muffled yet familiar. 
Your brother is talking about something you can’t make out, Seokmin’s voice is undeniable despite passing through the folded layers of comforters around your head. You don’t doubt the presence of the sweat that’s probably already accumulated on your scalp. 
 There’s nothing that alarms you in the moment despite Seokmin’s yapping — that is until you hear a second voice.
You recognize it immediately as the sound of Mingyu’s talking, the words equally as muffled yet the intonation clear all the same. 
Kicking the sheets off of your overheating body, you squint as you open your eyes in a desperate attempt to reign yourself back to earth, recollections of the past twenty four hours hurtling back to you like a constant line of K.O’s. 
The gallery, the picture, the drive up to Mingyu’s place,the sex, the falling asleep in his arms. You sit up in Mingyu’s bed, clad in nothing but his own T-shirt as you realize your brother is downstairs talking to Mingyu, and you have no idea if he knows you're here. 
You realize very quickly that you’re trapped, being left with no other option than to remain in Mingyu’s bedroom until he comes back up to give you the clear, despite wanting to walk out to take the tiniest peek. You’re not sure what’s worse, getting caught or sitting in the growing pool of anxiety before Mingyu gets back. 
It’s a long, long twenty minutes, in which you’ve done just about everything to get to hear their conversation a bit better; or to distract yourself from the fact that it’s happening at all. Pressing your ear to the door before going back to make the bed. Freshening up in the bathroom before going back to jamming your eye into the keyhole (you aren’t sure why considering door faces a plain wall). You even hijacked a spare cup Mingyu had lying around the room to stick into the wall, hoping all those Mr. Bean cartoons hadn’t been lying to you. 
They were simply talking in a tone too low for your ears to catch (despite the Mr. Bean hack), and you resorted to scrolling on your phone to pass the remaining time. It’s catastrophic to say the least, when you’re met with a string of frantic messages from Nayeon as well as a couple missed calls from your brother. 
[Nayeon]: fuck [Nayeon]: i didnt see this [Nayeon]: he called this morning asking about you  [Nayeon]: i accidentally told him you werent here [Nayeon]: im so sorry where are you  [You]: its okay its my fault for texting so late [You]: i was at mingyus place [You]: ill tell you more later [Nayeon]: WHAT???
By the time Mingyu walks in, he’s mildly surprised to see you awake, pausing at the door as he takes in your huddled form. You sit up immediately, noting his still messy hair and the backwards sweatshirt he’s thrown on over his boxers. The question tumbles out of your lips before you can help it, “Was that Seokmin?”
“Good morning to you too,” he grumbles sarcastically, coming up on the bed to join you in your huddle fest. You’re a little embarrassed at the way you’ve greeted him first thing when he sees you, but his expression when he continues replaces it with something akin to fear. “And yeah, it was him.”
You want to ask him a follow up question, but you aren’t sure what to say, simply staring at him, hoping he’d get the hint and continue by himself. He does. 
“The idiot has a spare key so he just…” He trails off, rubbing his hands on his face,  “he just walked in straight to the room. Got the shock of his life, I suppose, ‘cause it woke me up while you kept snoring.” 
“He walked into the room?!” you nearly screech, hand clamped over mouth, horrified. “What did he say to you?”
Mingyu has the audacity to laugh, simply tugging you back down on the bed to hold you. You briefly wonder how he’s so casual about this. “There’s not really an expected reaction from someone when they find you half naked in bed with their sister.” 
The haphazardly shoved sweatshirt and no pants look was starting to make sense. “I heard you talking downstairs, what were you talking about?” 
“Nothing you have to worry your pretty little head about,” his lips graze the shell of your ear as he snuggles further into you. “He wants you home by seven though.” 
You throw your head back in a whine, “God, what am I gonna do?” 
“You’ll be fine, he didn’t smack me, he can’t possibly be that mad at you.” 
“What was he then, ecstatic?” you retort. 
“I mean,” his energy shifts a little. “I think he’s just a little hurt that he wasn’t told.” 
“So you’ve done your damage control and now I need to pray he doesn’t disown me.” 
“God, you’re being so negative,” he comments and you can’t help but round up on him.
“And you’re acting like you don’t care!”
He’s planting a fat kiss on your cheek at your outburst, coming in to coddle you even more. “I’m kidding, I just want you to relax, don’t be upset.” 
“Has he given you his verdict yet?” you ask quietly.
He sighs at the question and you can’t imagine his answer being any good. “Not yet, pretty up in the air about it.” 
When he sees you deflate even more in his arms, he continues, “I’m sure he’s gonna come around, he loves you too much to not. It’s just a matter of time while he gets to make sense of the situation, don’t worry about it.” 
“I hope so,” you reply.
“We might have wash his socks for the next five years once he does, but it’s okay.” 
You can’t help but snort at the prospect, “His feet are stinkier than the regular human’s, are you sure about that?”
He grins, “I’d do it for you.”
You push his face away, rolling your eyes at his attempt to be sappy. “You’re gonna keep me for five years?” 
His smile drops as you feel the atmosphere shift in the slightest, his presence moving impossibly closer to you. “I’m gonna keep you forever.”
Hearing it is enough to have you lurching forward, closing the final gap between you so you can give in to the urge to kiss him. He’s enthusiastic to give back, pulling your body to face him entirely as you mumble between kisses, “I love you.”
“I love you more.”
The rest of the day (once your anxiety’s calmed down, at least) is spent loitering around each other as you migrate around the house in random excess. He makes you breakfast, and you need to physically restrain him to stop feeding you every bite of pancake and bacon. You let him make your favourite for lunch though, after you finally admitted how much you truly liked his Chow Mein, going as far as to run to the store to grab the stuff he was missing. He returns with a bag of groceries, not missing an abnormal amount of moonpie value packs that he stashes in his cabinets because “you’re gonna be around all the time”. 
6:30 rolls around quicker than either of you would have liked, needing to wiggle out of Mingyu’s hold on his couch to change out of your half naked state. He continues to delay you another ten minutes as he refuses to open his car door to let you walk into the apartment building, leaning over the console to continue mumbling whines between your own consoling kisses. 
By the time you’re making the walk of shame up to your door, the pit of anxiety that began to brew this morning returns from its dormancy, no Mingyu here to help ease your nerves, Gripping your key tight in your hands, you brace yourself to jam and twist to finally end this matter once and for all (at least you hope you can). 
Seokmin is waiting on the couch for arrival like a parent waiting to catch their child in the act. He briefly glances over at you as you whisper a tame “Hi”, slipping off your shoes. He doesn’t reply as he merely grabs the remote to pause his show, casting a heightened awkward atmosphere at the silence that’s now engulfing the room. You tread carefully over to the couch, where Seokmin sits with his arms crossed. 
It takes one look at his face for you to suddenly want to get on your knees and beg for forgiveness. He didn’t look angry, and perhaps you would’ve preferred his aggression if it didn’t mean having to look at a hurt Seokmin. You sit in silence for a couple dramatic minutes, hoping he would start talking so you wouldn’t have to. Yet, when you realize you might have to say something anyway for fear of crushing under the pressure, you find yourself opening your mouth. 
“Are you upset?” Of course, he’s upset, you idiot.
“I just–” he starts, before sighing. “I just wish one of you would’ve told me what was going on.” 
“I know, I’m sorry,” you reply. “I didn’t want either of you to have an excuse to be upset with each other, so I just…”
“I get that it was a recent thing but I think I deserved as much to know what was happening when I wasn’t around.”
You wince as speaks, realizing he hasn’t caught on to the fact that this isn’t recent at all — for you at least. “Um, about that…”
“What? There’s more?” he scoffs. 
“I, uh…I’ve liked him since like fifth grade—” He’s immediately jaw dropped, eyes bulged, taking a sharp breath. “But! In my defense, it was really obvious—it’s honestly your fault for not noticing.”
‘My–My fault?!” he sputters. “That’s like, forever, and you told me nothing? Mingyu told me this was recent, why did he lie?” 
“He didn’t, nothing happened till last night, I swear.” You cringe at what you’re entailing. “It was just me that liked him for that long, he figured it out pretty early on but…”
“He’s finally reciprocating now?” he suggests, almost sarcastically. 
“Yeah,” you breathe out lightly. 
“This is insane,” he blows out a breath of air, massaging his temples. 
“I’m not being stupid about him,” you mutter lowly, “This isn’t some puppy dog crush, especially not after so long.” 
He’s silent. 
“I’m telling you this because I don’t want you to think I’m jumping into this blind, especially for what it means for you too.” 
No response. 
“I’m sorry that you had to find out like this, it’s really not how I wanted it to go.” And when you’re met with even more silence, you find yourself continuing. “Please, talk to me. Cuss me out if you want, I’d honestly rather you yell at me.”
Seokmin sighs for the near hundredth time, finally looking like he might say something. “I want you to listen to me very carefully.”  
The hairs on the back of your neck stand up, mind immediately going to the worst. Was he going to ask you to break up with him?
“I’m gonna choose to trust the both of you on this,” he starts, and you nearly melt into the cushions, “It’s your life, you can date whoever you want. And…I guess Mingyu is better than someone else. Probably uses bad hair gel though.” 
You’re catapulting yourself off the couch at the sound of that, throwing yourself onto an unassuming Seokmin. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” 
“OW! Okay! Geez, get off,” he grumbles as he finally stops wrestling you to let go of him, hugging you back as you squeeze his shoulders tight. 
“I promise I won’t keep anything like this from you again.” 
“You better not,” he huffs as you let go of him, “Don’t think this means you’re forgiven. You still have a lot to tell me.” 
“I promise I won’t leave out a thing.”
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The following weeks are near bliss, following your very loud confrontation with Nayeon when she gets back from her summer vacation, her screams at every plot turn having you praying for her neighbors. You doubt she believed you despite everything, not until she physically sees Mingyu come in one day, making a beeline to peck you on the lips before greeting anyone else. Her dropped jaw was very telling. 
Even now, as Mingyu sports the title of the lame alumnus that still hangs around campus as he grips your hand, walking through the grass, the double takes you’re receiving seem to be traveling quite fast. You wouldn’t necessarily blame them considering the trickier than usual dynamic you sport due to your brother (and you guess due to his reputation as well). 
But you also knew they’d be quick to die out as the newer batches of students come flying in — Mingyu will soon become a very well kept secret, in one way if not the other. 
His neighbors, however, must be wishing he had the same sentiment as well, considering the absolutely foul noises that are coming from his apartment. 
You’re learning very quickly that Mingyu’s innocent touchiness can turn into something of the opposite at any given time, exhibit A being now as you try your damn hardest to muffle the sounds coming out of your mouth as Mingyu works his own mouth on your cunt. The knees over his shoulders are shivering from the expense, fingers pumping into your hole as he rubbed a particular spot with his tongue that had you gripping onto his hair tight. 
As much as Mingyu loves to hear you, you find his other hand being brought up to place two fingers in your mouth for you as the perfect pacifier, sounds limiting extensively. 
By the time you’re coming undone, sprawled on his couch like you just ran a marathon, you’re quick to realize that he has no intention of letting you have a breather. It takes one shove for him to pull his pulsing length out of his pants, tip pushing into your still sopping hole as he invited all of him inside you. 
You’ll never forget the first time Mingyu fucked you raw, right after you told him he had the green light after taking your birth control pills. It was magic, you’ve never seen him this vocal as he finished inside you nearly four times in a single night. His moans remain loud even still, as he brings your thighs to press over your chest, basically folding you in half. The mere sound of your wetness as he pumps in and out of you is enough to have you nearly careening over the edge, especially when you feel a desperate hand reach out to rub fast circles on your clit. 
You throw your head back as you cum for the second time, pulsing around him in a grip Mingyu can’t believe has the ability to become tighter. It’s enough for him though, as he leans his forehead against your chest as he releases himself inside you. 
He doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of it, watching you filled to the brim with his cum, even as it drips onto the blankets you’ve laid down below. He has half a mind to stuff the liquid back inside you, but fears you’re tired enough, the overstimulation too much for you. 
By the time you’ve cleaned up and resumed the movie you should’ve been done with hours ago, cuddled impossibly close to him, you find yourself remembering something quite out of the blue.
“Hey, not that I really care anymore,” you start, “But who were the guys you were talking to that day? From the party.”
“Stopped hanging out with them ages ago,” Mingyu scoffs, face souring at the mention of them. “I mean, it was me who said all that bullshit, but they weren’t exactly good influences either. Learned that pretty quick.”
“Oh,” you reply simply, letting your head fall back onto his chest.
He doesn’t seem to be having any of it, grabbing your chin to have you face him. “I’m still really sorry about that. I don’t care if you chase my tail for another fifty years, it’ll always be adorable.”
“Forgave you a long time ago, but I think I have a condition now.” 
He quirks a brow at your words. “What does her Highness ask of me?”
“That you chase my tail for another fifteen to make up for all the running I’ve done.” 
He’s laughing at that, agreeing to your condition as places loving smooches all over your face. “Consider it done.”
It’s later on in the night, both of you huddled in ratty hoodies and mismatched slippers, plastic bag crinkling along Mingyu’s arm as you giggle about something he said. You’re enjoying your fudgsicle in the peace and serenity of the 1 AM hour, making your trek home after raiding the corner store down the block. Mingyu suddenly halts in his tracks as he sees a particularly pretty set of flowers, illuminated by the fluorescent street lights. 
“Babe, babe, stand here let me take a picture of you.”
“What?” you frown, holding up your stick of iced chocolate. “I’m not done yet.”
You watch as he grabs the melting popsicle from your hand downing the entire thing in one go as you watch him, hand still outstretched and jaw dropped. “Mingyu, you bitch!”
He only smiles as he mulls the chocolate in his mouth, words basically gibberish, “‘ere’s more in the ba’, now go stan'!” 
You huff as you trudge to where he was asking you to pose, throwing a couple peace signs to satiate the home video urges in him so you could rip open your second fudgsicle. 
“Wait! You got a little chocolate on your mouth.” he announces, and you stick your tongue out to lick past the remnants of the sweetness. “No— wait.”
He walks over to you as your still trying to find the spot you missed, unassuming as he swings into your face to kiss the remaining off. “Oh, nevermind, it was nothing.” 
You push him off as heat crawls up your face, feigning annoyance at his antics. You decide to forgive him when rips open another fudgsicle for you, offering it with both hands, promising to not steal a single lick. You believe him, snatching the stick from him as you continue your trek home. 
It’s not until he’s attempting to send you the pictures he just took to your phone so you could post them (which, with the way you looked, fat chance) that he notices something in your albums. 
“Oh, are these grad photos?” he asks as he clicks the album open.
“Mhm,” you hum not paying too much attention as you walked and ate. 
“Why’s there only one picture here?” he asks as he pulls up to find nothing more left to load. 
It’s only then that you bring your full attention to your phone in his hand as you realize what picture he’s talking about, “Oh god, don’t look at that one.”
He does the obvious thing and opens it anyway, a louder than necessary “aw” coming out his mouth. “Why do you look like I’m about to eat you?” 
“It felt like it!” you whine, remembering the moment clear as day. “They kept pestering me to take a picture with you too, I was tryna book it out of there at first chance.” 
He giggles as he zooms into the photo, “I’m sending this to myself.”
You groan loudly at the thought, “God, just delete it, leave it alone.”
He tucks the phone into himself further, not letting you grab it. “No, you’re not deleting it. Why do you have it tucked into a separate folder if you hate it so much.”
He’s got you there, you realize quickly, and he reigns in his victory as he watches you grimace at the phone slightly, adding on, “it has a lot of feelings attached to it, I get it. But look, we can attach new feelings to it, now you’ll think about right now the next time you see it.”
“Think about you hijacking my fudgsicles? I think I prefer heartbreak,” you say, bringing your half eaten pop closer to your body in case he tries anything. 
You’re deemed correct when he replies, motioning towards your concealed treat, “Careful, I can still pounce when you’re not looking.” 
Shoving your hands into the swinging bag hanging on Mingyu’s arm, you bring out a thing of sausage and shove it towards him, “You leave me and my fudgsicle alone, go be lousy and suck on this or whatever.”
“You’d know alot about that, wouldn’t you?” he notes casually, grabbing the sausage anyway as he unwraps it to take a bite. 
It takes you a second to realize what he’s talking about while he stares at you with a mischievous expression, coming to shove him when the innuendo finally registers in your head. You do the opposite this time, pointing the melting chocolate toward him instead, threatening to smear it all over his white hoodie. 
He laughs at the sight, disarming you by simply moving your wrist away, coming to kiss you on the mouth hard regardless of your annoyed expression. 
“Love ya’” he giggles. 
“Hm.”
“What, hm? Say it back.”
You pretend to wonder, “I don’t think so.”
“Say it!” he groans, “Say it, say it!” 
You manage to wriggle out of his hold, booking it before he realises what’s happening. 
“Hey!” 
Your both probably waking up the entire neighborhood with how loud you’re yelling and laughing, and even when he manages to tackle you down on somebody’s lawn, coaxing the words out of you with borderline violence, you still manage to smile, thanking your lucky stars that you got what you wanted after all. 
“What’re you thinking about?” he asks with an undertone. 
“Thanking my stars they led me to you,” you reply. 
“More like the other way around. Needed the fattest fucking star to realize what was in front of me all along,” he jests himself. 
It sparks a laugh out of you. “I love you.”
“And I love you.”
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notmyneighbor · 2 months
Text
Let Me in ~ Doppelgänger Francis Mosses/The Milkman x Female Reader
Chapter 3
Word Count ~ 2.5k
Rating ~ Explicit
CW ~ blood and gore, body horror, character death, minor violence, dubious consent, sexual content
Also available on AO3
Fanart used with permission @kaworinx on Instagram and TikTok
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You sit on the side of the bed that had once belonged to Francis Mosses.
The comforter and top sheet have already been pulled down. You lean over to slide out of your low heeled pumps, tucking the pair of navy leather shoes neatly under the bed.
There’s a bible on the nightstand. A worn looking copy. Beside it a glass with a shallow amount of water resting in the bottom, the remnant of a late night attempt to quench thirst, perhaps.
The doppelgänger watches your movements. How methodical each action is. Slow and deliberate. You’re stalling.
He settles beside you and the mattress creaks as the springs are compressed. That odd sort of shimmer you’d noticed earlier outside the security booth outlines his frame for a brief moment. A surge of light and color as the skin ripples before settling. They still weren’t completely able to disguise what they were. All hope was not lost.
Your own fate, however, seems sealed. You lie down slowly, carefully. You feel as if you are laying yourself to rest in your own coffin. Turning your face ever so slightly to see if there is any trace of the man that had once slept here, some lingering scent or an indent from his face. Nothing but the fragrance of clean linen. The imposter moves as if to join you but you halt him, your fingers closing over his forearm. Your first time touching him and not the other way around. “Take your shoes off.”
The creature snickers, glancing down at the scuffed oxfords he’s wearing. Overdue for a shine. “What possible difference does that make?”
“It’s respectful. You never put your shoes where someone sleeps.”
“He won’t be sleeping here ever again.”
You inhale sharply, wincing. “Please just do it.” You can’t say why you’re so hung up on this. Only that it seems the right thing to do. A small thing in a sea of wrongs that you’re clinging to like a life preserver.
“Fine.” He acquiesces, bending to unlace them. There is no care in his actions. Just brisk, impatient pulls to undo the knotted ties. Then he is lying beside you. Your heads sharing the same pillow. Francis only used a single one, apparently. Preferring to slumber lying with his head and neck rather flat. You always used two fluffy pillows, minimum.
You can hear the sound of music starting to play, emanating from the resident’s apartment next door.
Mia Stone, perhaps. The blonde teacher who was Dr. Afton’s fiancée. You instantly recognize the musical artist crooning through the walls: Billie Holiday.
I say I'll move the mountains
And I'll move the mountains
If he wants them out of the way
You would have loved to play this record for Francis. You envision trying to dance in the cramped space of the living room, twirling around in his arms. “Did he really like my fragrance?” You know the creature could lie, of course. He’d say anything to manipulate you and get what he wanted. But you have to ask. Your heart won’t let you avoid the query.
The dark eyes of the pretender regard you. You detect no malice or dishonesty there. “Yes,” he says simply.
You close your eyes, sighing. “What else did he like about me?”
“Your smile, gifted once you were certain it was really him. The way you covered your mouth when you laugh, making some little relieved joke when you passed his identification and entry request back to him each day. The strands of hair that came loose around your face as the day wore on into late afternoon when he returned from his route. The—”
“—Stop. Please.” Tears well in your eyes. They didn’t sound like the kind of details the deceiver would create on his own. There was a note of truth to them. Genuine recollections. He truly was all that remained of Francis Mosses. A man that had been fond of you. You could have been with him, if only you’d been a little braver.
“You asked me to tell you.”
“I know. It’s just overwhelming.”
Like the wind that shakes the bough
He moves me with a smile
“Your kind is so fond of music. Your milkman was always humming. I don’t see the use for it.”
The your wrenches your heart. He wasn’t yours. Never would be. “It’s a way to expression emotions. When words alone aren’t enough.”
“Hmmm.” He reaches out and you flinch. “Why are you fighting this so hard? This is what you wanted.”
“I didn’t want Francis to die.” You pause, swallowing past the lump in your throat. “Why do you want this?”
”Curiosity. An experiment of sorts. There has never been a union between our kind. Not of this nature. A desire to know what it feels like. To see what might result.”
You shudder. An experiment. Using you like some kind of animal for breeding. A mere whim.
He reaches again and this time you force yourself to hold steady, your chin lifting with a short jerk of defiance. Your hair is his goal. Tucking it back behind one ear. Maybe something the milkman had wanted to do. There’s a sudden softness in the doppelgänger’s eyes. As if the human he’d once been was peeking through at you. You find yourself melting again, your defenses coming down.
I say I'll care forever
And I mean forever
He moves closer to you. Inching over across the white fitted sheet. A thumb strokes away one of the tears that has escaped its prison. He captures the other from the opposite cheek, bringing it to his lips, his tongue darting out to taste the droplet. “Salt,” he says, recognizing the mineral.
He kisses you.
You’re not sure if it’s better to think of the man you had loved or not. Was it dishonoring his memory or was it a way to keep him present in some vague capacity? There’s no clumsiness this time. He knows the feel of your mouth. The way to shift against you. Tongue mapping past smooth cheeks and dragging along the carpet of muscle at the base of that maw. Maybe it was better to pretend this was Francis after all. You cup the back of his neck, fingers teasing the edges of his milk chocolate tresses. Curling slightly on the ends. It would be time for a trim soon. Would have been. The illusion you’ve created is crumbling again. Your lips falter, your hand dropping away.
Crazy he calls me
Sure, I'm crazy
Crazy in love am I
“Sweetheart,” the invader murmurs, tasting along your jaw, your neck. “I like the way you smell.” Speaking for himself, not Francis. You hear the sharp intake of air. The hand that had been casually laid across your shoulder slides down until it reaches your breast, gently kneading that globe through the layers of your bra and blouse. “Does this feel good?” His voice is octaves lower than you’d ever heard from the milkman. Slightly raspy and sultry, not unlike the singing voice that permeates through the wood and plaster behind the bed. You don’t dare answer, merely whimpering a little and he seems to take this as an affirmative response.
His hand leaves your breast and finds the top button of your shirt. Always sensible, pure white, part of the uniform standard the company requires. Another threaded plastic disc is pushed through the hole. He works his way down until all those that are exposed have surrendered, the remainder still tucked within your skirt. His fingers part the edges of the fabric encasing your torso, peeling them back to reveal the white satin brassiere beneath. He caresses you briefly through this slick material before tucking inside the cup until he brushes across your areola. Your nipple peaks beneath his ministrations as his lips move back to yours. He is surprisingly gentle, lightly pinching and rolling the aroused tissue. Your body betrays you, responding to the creature’s touch. You should be ashamed, disgusted. Instead you find yourself wanting more.
“Off,” he murmurs impatiently, plucking at your bra before his hand departs your chest. You struggle to sit up and he allows it, watching you pull your blouse free from your skirt and unfastening the cuffs before sliding it off your arms. With a swift gesture borne of long practice you easily pinch and release the hook and eye closures resting along the center of your spine, the cups immediately folding down over the underwire, the straps drooping over your shoulders.
The doppelgänger assists you now, sliding the brassiere off the rest of the way, exposing your chest to him. Your cheeks are pink, flushed like the nipples he’s toying with again, his head bending to suckle at one and a lick of flame sears your core. This is part of the invasive species’ learning process, you think. Taste as important as touch. His mouth moving not with the sole purpose of your pleasure in mind, but as a means to explore flavors and textures. Cataloguing. More of humanity’s secrets unveiled.
There is a song you don’t recognize playing next door now. Muffled voices. You’d had no idea the walls were so thin. Francis had never complained.
You’re shoved back down onto the pillow. His mouth wanders, back up to sample a collar bone, the hollow at the base of your throat, then dips in between your breasts and tastes the skin of your abdomen. You wonder if he can detect the floral soap you’d bathed with that morning, the traces of lotion you’d applied during your hygiene routine.
“I like this,” he says, his breath warm on your body. “You’re so soft. Smooth. Not like…I’ve never taken…” It had often been debated if there were sexes in their species. How they propagated. There was still so much unknown. Was there a reason he’d only chosen men to replicate? Was it simply because he was male himself? You could not explain how you knew it, but there was something distinctly masculine about him. Authoritative. Blunter than a woman would be. A lifetime of being raised to respect decorum had been firmly ingrained in you. Society valuing a woman who knows her place. Taught to be demure, deferring to the wisdom and guidance of their male counterparts. Serving and obeying, like you’re doing now.
The imposter returns his attention to your face. Licking your mouth back open. He likes this, you think. All of what you’d shared thus far, but perhaps the kissing best of all.
The background melody silences and you think you detect the front door opening and closing. You wonder if the couple will be going out to an early dinner. Curious when they find there is no one guarding the building. But not alarmed. Not yet.
Your skirt is being lifted, polyester dragged upward after the copycat’s hasty reach downward to gather the hem. Immediately sliding back down, stroking over your exposed thighs that are clad in nylons that stop midway across each of your upper legs. Nothing fancy, just utilitarian features in a shade of nude slightly more tanned than your own complexion. He nudges against the seal you’ve created by pressing your legs close together. “Let me in, sweet girl.” An echo of what he’d said earlier in an attempt to gain access to the building, now seeking entry into you. You feel your limbs parting for him nearly as promptly as you’d opened the door.
The pretender works his way back up to the fork of your body, teasing along the crotch of the white panties. You gasp and he smiles against your lips. His palm drags over the fabric until his fingers find the elastic waistband and he dips beneath it, running overly the neatly trimmed hair on your pubic mound, following the curve of that padded flesh until your sex is palpated.
Another gasp and a moan escapes you. “So wet,” he remarks, fondling the pink lips, parting the petals with his middle finger to slide through the slick arousal your body is creating, working the lubricant up and down, passing over the hooded nub and then delving back towards your entrance, where more fluid escapes.
It feels good and yet it doesn’t, his fingers too rough and just shy of where you need him. You squirm and wince at the harsh handling of your clitoris and he pauses, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “Show me. Show me how you like to be touched.”
You reach down cautiously, guiding his fingers to one side of your sensitive bud, lightly pressing and rolling a fingertip so that your clit is ground slightly against the bone beneath. Alternating now, reaching back down to gather more of your slick before spreading it over that hooded button, a few direct strokes applied before beginning the process again. He replicates your actions and your body responds immediately, a hum of pleasure heating you. You close your eyes and you think of the milkman, the real one, with his kind smile and his tired eyes.
“Francis.” The name escapes your lips and you freeze, the rocking motion of your hips against the imposter’s hand abruptly ceasing. You hadn’t meant to say it out loud. Alarmed by how easily you’d allowed yourself to give in to the desire, accommodating this make believe passion.
“It’s alright, love. It’s me. I’m here.” His tongue laps at your ear, at the sensitive patch of skin behind it. You shiver and resume grinding against his fingers, letting yourself be deluded once more, your hand curling over his forearm.
“Francis,” you say again, hoping he can forgive you, in whatever form he now occupies, if he is saved as his faith professes he would be, finding redemption and peace, somewhere far from your sinning body that writhes in pleasure from his murderer’s touch.
You push against his hand and he allows it, applying force against the hollow cavity that leads to your womb. “Let me in,” he breathes, and you feel a finger invading your body, shoving through the narrow confines of that muscular tunnel. Withdrawing and spearing again, the digit saturated with your arousal. You moan and lift your pelvis to meet him. Curling inside, massaging that dip of spongy tissue. Crooking each time he enters as if he is leading you forward, beckoning, his thumb drawing circles over your clit. You feel as if you’re on the edge of a chasm, teetering on the rim, about to drop forward into heat and darkness. Keening now. Thighs tremoring violently. Your face turns and your teeth sink into the pillow. “There you go, love. Give it to me. Give in to me.”
The coiling pressure within you snaps and you find release at last, the fabric clenched in your teeth doing little to muffle the sound of your orgasm. You’re drenched in sweat, the aftershocks of your appeased nerves still sizzling through you. The doppelgänger cradles you through all of it, holding you as you ride the waves that exhaust your limbs, making you feel boneless and limp.
“Francis.” It’s a yearning plea, a futile prayer, answered by the thing that is not him, but masquerades as such, crooning to you, whispering false promises, draping you in synthetic affection, a lie you want so desperately to believe.
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dungeonpuppykai · 9 months
Note
When I want to read dark fics, your writing just hits. One of my guilty pleasures recently has been dark!winter soldier stuff and I was hoping you could write one.
If you can, can you make it where Bucky is still the Winter Soldier and finds himself completely enamored with the reader. He stalks her briefly and decides he has to have her. So where it gets dark is mean, brooding soldier kidnaps reader and makes her his housewife. (I’d like to think that some of Bucky’s 40ness is still there along with some good old fashion 50s idealization where he basically molds her into being his perfect little housewife.)
He can still be with hydra or not but this thought has been buzzing around in my head recently and I personally am not good at writing dark fics.
Um, hell yes I can! Also, not me having almost exactly the same idea (it was in my drafts and I totally merged it with yours). Sorry for being late uni kicks my butt hard TT. Also, please note that this is a headcanon kind of situation type deal but apparently there's a limit to how many bullets you can put per post so that's why it looks the way it does! Hope you like it still. Unedited ❤️
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Warning(s): Dubcon (just to be safe), stalking, kidnapping, housewife kink, stockholm syndrome, spanking, misogyny, domestic discipline, breeding kink (dash), age gap (I mean, man is over a century old). Contains mature content. Browse at your own discretion. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! 
You are absolutely shit faced as you stumble out the backdoor of the club with two of your girlfriends tangled around each arm. 
You are all giggling, stumbling and slurring out curses, trying to shush each other as you trudge your forms to your apartment complex that is close by because driving is obviously out of question now. 
Were it not for your overly intoxicated state, you would have totally noticed the dark silhouette that stills in the dark alley facing the backdoor. 
The man masked in the darkness tilts his head to the side as he tries to read your party, having gotten caught off guard by the sudden bursting open of the door. 
One of your friends stagger in his direction and he moves back, his labored breaths warm in his mask, watching the girl as she retches her guts out.
Silence follows the wheezes and gags of the girl.
Then there is a sound– a melody in the air.
Soldat feels something stir within himself.
Something his masters did their best to suppress. 
Not that they would be doing any more of that. 
They needed to be alive to do something like that ever again.
His eyebrows furrow as he scans your group for the source of the sound; you. 
You are laughing.
At your friend that is throwing up.
Hands clutching your hurting sides, eyes scrunched, head thrown back, flushed and sweaty face vibrant under the bright moonlight as your hair frames it in the most perfect way possible. 
A shaky breath escapes the man covered in tears and blood of his captors and oppressors.  
His eyes scan your form. 
Beautiful. 
His metal hand clenches into a fist and he makes his resolve almost instantly;
Mine.
Soldat cannot recall much of his past except for a few things like his name.
But he knows that it has been a long, long time. 
And it's time to go home.
But a home is not walls and concrete. 
It is the people that live in it. 
His head is a mess as he scales a wall and follows you to your building, skipping from roof to roof effortlessly with a careful eye on your form.
James had finally broken free against hydra yesterday morning while they were experimenting something more brutal. 
And during the following hours, all various leaders that made the organization what it was were dead.
For what is a structure without its pillars?
He had plundered them single handedly. 
And now he was a slave no more.
James would live, and he would take.
Just as had been taken from him.
You woke up the next morning, sprawled across your bed.
As you winced and sat up, you could swear you had knocked out on the couch last night. 
But since you couldn't teleport, it was probably just a gap in your memory.
Right?
The second sign was the painkillers and water next to you on the bedside table.
The third was the window of your room that was open wide.
But you shook your head as you were behind on your schedule for the day and got on with your busy university student life. 
You should have taken notice of the signs. 
How things would always somehow work out when you were struggling with some sort of a problem. 
Regardless of whatever type of an issue it was. 
Your friends joked about it as Divine Providence. 
And Divine it was, you lived to learn. 
When it happened, it wasn't after a dramatic chase or anything. 
You had simply woken up in a room you had never seen before, tucked in the bed like it had been yours for ages.
What even happened? 
You had finished an assignment before heading to bed for an early class the next morning. 
But now you were timidly surveying the room, more and more panic filling you by the passing second. 
The house is beautiful and bright outside the dark room you had woken up in, big glass windows facing tall trees and various other type of greenery outside. 
A loud gasp escaped you when you were somewhere in the middle of the living room.
You turned around to find a huge and by that you mean, giant man standing a few steps away from you.
You could swear he wasn't there a minute ago.
But now he is towering over you, head tilted to the side as if interacting with something from an outer planet, eyes scanning your form slowly. 
As if he's savouring the sight of you in a…
Your blood runs cold as you look down to realize that you are dressed in a white sundress with yellow and red flowers printed on it.
Your eyes widen in horror.
Because you had been wearing your PJs last night–
Or, rather, the last time you were awake.
Before you can say anything, he extends a hand towards you invitingly, nodding sideways to what seems to be the kitchen. 
Something in his hand glints in the sunlight coming from the windows.
It is when your panicked vision realizes that the hand and the whole arm is made up of metal, your body backs away.
With your mouth agape, you demand shakily.
"Who the hell are you?" 
He sighs. 
"What the hell is this place? Why am I here? What the fuck is going on?!"
The man's features scrunch in disapproval. 
Your choice of words is much unappreciated.
"Good little wives don't ask questions." 
In his angry, fried and entitled delusional mind you are as much in love with him as he is.
Otherwise, why would you just accept all the favours he did for you during all these months he was building a perfect home for the both of you and your future children?
He takes a step in your direction and you leap back.
After a short game of cat and mouse, you are trapped against the glass window.
He is too close. 
There is a heavy looking vase on the table next to you.
The shock on his face is evident.
He hadn't expected you, his wife, such a small and innocent girl to disrespect her husband like this. 
You whimper in horror when he doesn't budge against the decoration piece exploding against his brow bone.
James' eyes narrow as he leans in, a thick stream of blood running down the hurt side of his face.
"Bad girl" and you take off without a second thought.
Thankfully, the door is straight ahead and surprisingly unlocked.
You run without looking back. 
The man is not chasing you like you expected. 
But you don't want to stick around and find out why. 
Though the reason is soon revealed when you race through the little garden and out of the fence door. 
You are looking behind you and at the house so it is not until you are a good distance away from it do you turn your head to look ahead. 
Icy horror pierces its way down your spine.
Sand and palm trees dominate your vision as far as you can see where you are and your right side.
A devastatingly vast ocean washes the shore you are running on from the left side.
That doesn't stop you until your body gives up after a few minutes. 
You ran into the jungle for some cover.
Sobs and tears burst out of you as you collapse on a blanket of leaves.
Your body is weak and confused. 
Many hours pass.
You wander and starve.
You hide and shake.
You tip toe and give up.
There are wild animals all around you.
You can hear them.
It's terrifying. 
So terrifying that when you hear the stranger's voice some time after dusk, you are almost glad.
Are you done? His bright blue eyes that you can make out even in the dim light ask you silently. 
"How'd you even find me?" You were sure you had run a good couple miles.
He refuses to respond until you place your shaking hand in his awaiting metal one. 
"I can smell you" his accent is almost foreign as he pulls you up, frowning at your hurt bare feet. 
It took you hours to get to where you were but it only takes James a few minutes to get you back home. 
"Before I clean you up, I need to punish you." You are baffled. "Good wives don't run away from their husbands." 
He doesn't listen to any of your protests and reason that day or ever.
"Little girls don't know what is right for them. Only their husbands can decide that." 
He thoroughly washes you that night after giving you the worst spanking, paying no mind to your begging and crying.
You are sniffling as you sit on the bathroom counter wrapped up in a towel an hour later, your sore ass buzzing under you.
Your captor is kneeling in front of you as he tends to your hurt feet. 
He tells you your rules as he does so.
"First, you are to always obey me no matter what. Second, your body belongs to me as I am your husband, so you should not try to deny me of it because it will never end well for you. Third, you will respect me or you will live to learn to do so. Four, you will do your chores like a good wife and fulfill your wifely responsibilities. Five, you are to always accept your punishments and thank me for disciplining you after I am through with you, should you choose to break a rule or misbehave. Six, you will not indulge in any activity that can potentially corrupt your little mind. Seven, you will speak with respect and never out of turn. Eight, you are to always greet me when you wake up or if I have been gone a while. Nine, you can try to run. I will never stop you. But when you return home after failing, you will take your punishment obediently. Ten, you must never touch yourself. You are mine and mine alone." 
Since the spanking is still fresh on your skin you panic a little and fear forgetting them.
But you find them pasted on the fridge the following morning because he knew you were too dumb to remember them.
A few days pass before you explode about not being his wife and call him crazy.
"You weren't saying that when I did you all those favours." 
Horror dawns upon you as you realize that it was him all along.
You don't give up easily, though.
You try to run more times than you can keep count.
Every direction, every plan and every map you make proves to be useless.
Because the last time you do so, you realize that you are on a fucking island.
And since there is a dock near the house with the pantry never running low on groceries, James has a means of transport hidden somewhere is no mystery. 
But you don't know when he does it. 
So far you haven't been able to figure out a pattern. 
Either he was right about you being dumb or your captor was really good at staying one step ahead of you.
Anyways, you have no choice but to return to him crushed and sobbing as always.
He is reading something when you collapse between his legs; ready to accept your punishment as you have learnt that hiding and denying only makes it worse. 
James isn't so bad if you follow his rules. 
He is just a kidnapper and a misogynist with dangerous reflexes. 
His face is smug as he puts the book away. You have noticed that he is not as stiff and troubled as he used to be when you first woke up here months ago at this point. 
"How was it, doll?" He loves to hear you talk about it as he bruises your ass. "Any luck?" 
Today, though, something different happens.
You don't know if it's resignation and surrender finally settling in or if you have actually started to like this life.
How James gives you a nod of approval and pats your head rewardingly whenever you follow all your rules without any trouble.
The way he lets you stay up past your bed time (yes you have one because good wives are healthy for their husbands) to read a book or watch a movie.
If you were extra good and talked to him (though he was a man of a few words) and helped him out with a little farming thing he had going on in the backyard/patio, he would even let you sleep in the following morning. 
No stress or pulling yourself through classes and tight budgets.
Just being what he considered good and then whatever you would mention briefly would be in the house within the next few days.
When he is done punishing you, you thank him and apologize according to routine. But then you hug him.
You tell yourself it is due to the sad reality that your torment is your comfort.
Has to be.
You have no choice.
And then something unexpected happens in the course of the next few days. 
While trying to make the best out of this situation, you start to notice the little things, quirks and rituals, habits and mannerisms of this man. 
How he doesn't say anything if he doesn't like a certain ingredient or condiment in something you cooked but pushes it aside to use as compost later.
The way he holds you extra tight some times when he mutters a foreign language in his sleep. 
How he stares at the scary metal arm after a long day while waiting for you to finish up dinner.
Or the way he struggles to hold himself back whenever you are in a close proximity to him because you cried once he crept his hand up your ass in a sexual way. 
You don't get him sometimes.
His morals are as mysterious as him. 
Because he kidnapped you and forced you to be his wife in a '40's way, strips you to spank and humiliate you during punishments, then bathes and comforts you in his own way of silently holding you against his chest in his arms until you calm down.
Your tears don't effect him. 
But then he refuses to touch you sexually after the one time he tried.
It takes you a while to make the most peace that you can with James, but it happens eventually because you don't have a choice.  
The loneliness starts to drive you mad otherwise.
You are helping him with his farming one day when you collapse.
James isn't happy to find out that you haven't had any of your daily water intake for the day. 
After he is sure you are hydrated, it is punishment time because caring for yourself is also a rule you are supposed to never break.
Your ass is red and seething by the time he's done. Everything is pretty much routine except that you don't sit up to apologize and maybe hug him like usual.
Not even when he pats your ass to signal that he's done.
"H- Hubby?" You sniffle as you use the endearment.
It had been a proud discovery of yours.
James always gave in a little whenever you used it.
"Yes, little mouse?" You bite your lips as your thighs tremble.
Fuck.
"Y- You say we are husband and wife…"
"What about it?"
You bite your lip as you push your ass out and towards him, letting your legs part.
"Then why don't we act like it?" James is good at concealing his emotions and showing restraint.
But he can't help the way his cock hardens at the sight your pretty red thighs reveal to him.
Your perfect pussy is glistening with your creamy arousal, the entrance of your vagina blinking to indicate its need to be filled.
Fuck. 
Though James starts off small and slow with his fingers rubbing your cunt, the night ends with him balls deep into your pussy with his length rearranging your organs.
Whatever was left of you to own for him, he does so after that night.
You cannot go on for long without having some sort of physical proximity to him.
The sex is wild and it's amazing with his stamina. 
It is also instrumental in bringing you two closer than ever. 
James opens up to you slowly, but only when you ask about it.
You had done so in the past as well. 
But since it's genuine curiosity now, he feels comfortable telling you all about it.
It is a lot for you to take in and you almost don't believe him until he shows you some of his belongings from his time.
Things drift on as smoothly for a while as the waves outside your house.
And then comes the ultimate test. 
Which decides the course of your future with him.
He is still asleep one morning when you wake up.
It isn't a usual occurrence. 
But you had introduced him to comics lately and he had been obsessed with them despite claiming that they were too childish and unrealistic. 
While he had a metal arm himself…
You adjust the quilt before getting ready for the day and heading out to make breakfast. 
It is when you realize in panic that there aren't any apples left even though James had asked you to make a grocery list (that started when he started trusting you more) and you had assured him that you had enough apples for a while.
"I am gonna get the hairbrush today, I swear to God!" You mutter to yourself as you rush through the house like a headless chicken. 
Thankfully, your garden had an apple tree so you could save yourself from a breakfast spanking at the very least.
But something standing next to the dock catches your attention before you can the apples you try to budge free from their branches.
A motorboat. 
Before you can decide what you think of it, you are standing next to it on the dock.
It has fuel and a map. The key is in the ignition.
You narrow your eyes and feel your head splitting. 
A lot goes through your mind.
Flashbacks play before your eyes.
It is almost a full circle moment. 
And then you are standing in front of James who is seated on a stool next to the kitchen counter you use for dining. 
His head is lowered as he sips on his coffee and stabs at the breakfast you prepared with a fork.
"Hubby?" Your captor freezes before he slowly looks up at you. 
The blue of his eyes is troubled. He is in disbelief. As though he wasn't expecting you to be standing here.
"There is a boat outside. Do you think someone could be–" 
"You didn't leave." His voice is heavy. 
"What kind of a wife leaves her home?"
You two just stare at each other for a while. 
No words exchanged.
Then, for the first time ever, James gets up and hurriedly closes the distance between you two, enveloping you in his arms before pushing you against the wall behind you.
"I felt so angry and wronged that I thought I could take anything because I deserved it after everything that happened to me but… I love you too much, mouse."
He has never spoken this earnestly before.
"I just realized that I do too."
James kisses you passionately before you wrap yourself around him and close your eyes blissfully. 
He tightens his own arms around you gladly.
He would have hated to end up back on square one with you had you chosen to try and escape. 
The boat would have blown up a small fuse that would have been loud enough for his enhanced hearing if someone– you, were to turn the keys in the ignition.
Yes, he wasn't expecting you to be back but only too soon.
It was a test and you passed. 
As always, James stuck to his ways and rewarded you for being such a good wife. 
By giving you a ring, a new wardrobe and a baby that was the first of many to come.
.
What do you think hAH-
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scoutswritingcorner · 3 months
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Formal Disappearance
Alastor x GN!Reader
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TW: None
Song(s) I was listening to: Head Over Heels/Broken by Tears for Fears
A/N: I want more flustered Alastor guys. If I have to make it so be- Let me fluster the deer man.
Alastor looked around the room as Charlie explained her new “bonding exercise”, his gaze sweeping over the crew that was all here..Something was missing- No, someone was missing from the gathering. His sweet Doe was missing, how did he not notice this earlier? In fact he hasn’t seen you all day. The last time he saw you was last night when you were hiding your reddened face as you laughed at his joke. His ever wandering eyes snapping towards Husk causing the old tom cat to flinch and bristle up causing his smile to flicker for a second, before grinning wider. Oh, he knew something. “Husker, my dearest friend, do you have something to share with me?” Alastor tilted his head as he turned to face the bartender.
“Me? Nope, I don’t have anything to say.” Husk responded not meeting his eyes. Alastor’s eye twitched as his ears fell back against his head, his clawed finger tapping on his cane. His patience was running thin, he hated being apart from you for this long. But he would never mutter it out to a soul, his pride was far too big for that. “Know what?” Charlie asked, smiling tensely, she hoped this wouldn’t turn into a whole thing. Alastor glanced at her but didn’t answer her as Husk flinched from his sharp gaze. “They had to go do something for their job.” Husk answered quickly causing Angel to smirk, “They looked smoking, Smiles. You should’ve seen them before they left.” The comment made Alastor snap his neck back towards Angel Dust who flinched and backed away muttering an apology.
“Oh! They had a huge formal event for their job today, that’s why they aren’t here right now. They had left early in the morning while you were doing a broadcast. They didn’t want to bother you but they said they left a note in your room.” Charlie explained clapping her hands together causing Alastor to hum loudly, so that’s what the note was for this morning. Well, what’s a few more hours without you by his side? He wasn’t desperate for your attention,
~~~~~
It had been four hours (possibly even more) since you had been gone and Alastor was struggling to even be near the others, his temper was getting to him and he missed you oh so dearly. He missed your smile and how your voice seemed to travel through the hotel like one of his favorite songs. He couldn’t even focus on the paper in front of him, what was keeping you this long at this so called formal event? He let out a soft growl watching as his own shadow pulled his focus on the wall in front of him. A lovestruck smile on the pesky shadow as it pointed towards the foyer of the Hotel. He stared at the shadow with an eyebrow raised confused on why his own shadow was acting like this.
Then like a siren song piercing through the silence he heard your voice echo, “I’m sorry, Charlie. I didn’t expect it to take that long. I thought it would be an hour or two at best.” Your voice echoed down to the parlor causing him to immediately stand up from his spot on the armchair in front of the fireplace. His ears happily flickering as he heard your precious laughter echo after a few seconds of soft whispers. He hurriedly made his way towards the front foyer of the Hotel ignoring how his Shadow dashed after his long strides. If his undead heart could beat, it would surely be racing at this point just at the thought of seeing you after hours, his tense smile now becoming relaxed at hearing your voice.
Looking up from the bottle of water in your hand at the shadow of your boyfriend curling around your own before. “Dearest!~ There you are and here I thought you had run away fro-” His voice stopped suddenly like a broken record as he gazed at your form. How absolutely darling you looked all dressed up. How your outfit clung to you from the necklace you were wearing (specifically the one he had gotten you a few weeks back) complimented your whole outfit perfectly. 
A dark red blush creeped up his neck to his cheeks as his ears laid back on his head. Noticing how you stared at him, a small smirk on your lips as you tilted your head. “What’s wrong, Dear? Don’t you like my outfit?” You teased, causing him to look away with a dark blush coating his cheeks and glaring at the wall as if it offended him. Angel snickered and turned his gaze back to Husk, “I think Smiles adores it a little too much, Toots.” An almost feral snarl leaving your Beau’s lips at hearing Angel point that out. You walked closer, holding your hand out to him. “Don’t worry, Dear. I saved one last dance for you.”
Alastor looked down at you, blush still prominent on his cheeks but he grabbed your hand and leaned down to kiss your knuckles, “Only if you’d have me, Cher.” He whispered out only for you to hear. A soft smile gracing your lips, you nodded at his request. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, Dear.” He swore his tail was about to create a hole in his jacket from the way it wagged so fast, linking your arms together he walked you to another part of the hotel to dance the night away.
2K notes · View notes
tteokdoroki · 3 months
Text
⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚⟡. — SATORU GOJO. the damage is done.
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about. when satoru decides that he wants you (his ex) back, his foolproof plan starts off by making your new partner extremely insecure..
warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, smut, non canon, toxic relationships, love bombing, exes to lovers, gaslighting, infidelity, cheating, breeding, fingering, multiple orgasms, couch sex, oral sex ( f! receiving ), unprotected sex, ex boyfriend!gojo, fem!reader.
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ex!gojo who slides into the dms of your current partner to slowly make them insecure.
he acts like a nice guy, offers advice on what to do when you’re mad, what you like to eat, how to keep you all sedated and happy. your current partner starts to gush about how cool of a dude satoru gojo is. how could you pass up on such an amazing guy? he’s rich, funny, caring — they can see how you fell for him.
but what they don’t understand is the greedy side of satoru — the one who one who wanted you all to himself. the guy who never let you go out, who made you cry but made you cum with the promise of never hurting your feelings again.
sometimes the advice gets a little too specific. how does satoru know where you keep your sex toys for kinky nights of fun. why does he know the spot that makes you arch your back off of the sweaty sheets just like that? or how many fingers you like to take? or how long it takes before you start gagging on cock.
it makes your new partner insecure, gives them performance anxiety and ruins the vibes of your bedroom. they can’t communicate with you, at least not properly — it leads to fights that are all too familiar. conversations you’ve had with satoru before. your little insecurities and biggest fears are thrown into your face, things they know will hurt you deep down you. these are some of the first times you cry because of your new partner.
it’s all too familiar, these are things you’ve gone through before with your ex — the recognisable twinge in your chest and feeling of guilt after being gaslight is something you know all too well.
“he was right, you really are just a cry baby.” they say. “since he knows so much about you, maybe you should go back to fucking him.” which feels like a bullet to your heart because you’ve spent so much time proving to your partner that you’re over your ex and all the bullshit that satoru put you through. all the drama and all the trauma he left you with.
your partner leaves for the night, leaving you alone with your tears and the tiny voice in the back of your mind that tells you it’s all satoru’s fault. it goads you into calling him, his number which you blocked but kept written down in your notes app in case of emergency. it’s been forever since you last spoke to your ex and told him you wanted nothing to do with him — so you’re surprised when he picks up on the second ring, seemingly happy to hear your voice.
“what did you do, satoru?” his name on your tongue is foreign yet also familiar. you’ve said it a million times before, in many different ways (lust, love and loss) but this time you’re angry. like the last time you spoke.
“what do you mean?”
he plays coy and you feel your temper bubble. “we got into a fight, i know it’s your fault. what did you say to them?”
“shouldn’t you be making up with them?” gojo answers your question with a question, his all-knowing smirk transcending down the static on the line. “why was your first thought to call me?”
that makes you falter, stops your typhoon of rage in its place.
the truth is, you know why you called. deep down you know that gojo could fix this, when you fought as a couple you would always call him first and in tears — letting him calm you down. gaslighting you in the process. he always knew what to say to scab over the wounds of your arguments, patching over deep cuts with little white lies even if he would reopen them and leave mental scars in place.
when you fight with your partner now, you seek the same sort of unhealthy comfort in the only person who you know will give it you and that’s exactly what satoru wants.
“let me come over,” he states, suave. “let me help you fix this.” he takes advantage of your emotional torment, butters you up with the promise of comforting you and against your better judgement — you let him. your partner abandoned you, satoru wants to help you. you’ve always known that he still loved you, at least he wouldn’t leave, at least he’s not like your partner.
regret will come in the morning, you think, when you let satoru into your apartment and back into your life. he knows that everything on the walls are different, the picture frames are now brown instead of white and hold photos of your current life in place of what you had with your ex. the furniture has moved and the diffuser at the entryway smells different. but as much as you’ve tried, you can’t get rid of your ex, satoru gojo. he will always make his way back to you.
he makes sure that you’re aware of this when he kisses you on the couch that you kept from your previous relationship. satoru tells you that you’ll always need him when he pins your hips to its leather with a strong arm and buries his white head of hair between your warm, thick thighs. he proves it to you with the way that his tongue licks broad strokes against the entire length of your sex and flicks at your clit because he knows that how you like you it, he knows you’ll cum in seconds if he eats you out like that.
there’s going to be a stain in the couch from just how much more you gush on satoru’s skilled fingers and tongue, as he moans against your sopping mound and tells you how he’s the only one who could ever make you see stars this way. his face gleams with your arousal and his eyes sparkle knowingly because it’s true. you’ve never felt as good as you have with satoru in comparison to anyone else. it puts doubt in your mind, makes you question why you even left him in the first place.
though, you don’t have much time to dwell on the thought…because in hurried yet precise movements — gojo is making you cum on his fingers again. the rough pad of his thumb possessively writes the letters of his name against your pulsating clit — hardened by blood that rushes to it, carrying lustful hormones from your frenzied mind. he loves how you taste when you cum, how you cling to him, how he knows that you’ll never forget this phenomenalfeeling after tonight.
it’s a little too intimate for two exes when satoru makes you ride him. his legs spread wide while you straddle his lap, creating the perfect angle for his cock to nudge against that one special pleasure spot inside of you. you’ve missed his cock, it’s perfect length and thickness — it’s pretty pink tip that oozes so much precum that’s all for you. it’s only ever been for you.
the way satoru’s large palms cup the globes of your ass and guide you back and forth over his lap unlocks a nostalgic and loving feeling in your rapidly rising and falling chest. he kisses you with so much passion that you’re reminded of the good nights you spent with him — making love until sunrise while his tongue rolls over yours and licks at your teeth. you’re naked and chest to chest, noses becoming neighbours while the course of your breathing syncs up. it’s overwhelming, how adored you feel in the moment, all while fucking your ex on the couch.
you grope at each other like it’ll be the final time you ever have sex like this. your hands settle at the base of satoru’s neck and his on your waist while you languidly move together in a salacious dance routine you’ve done so many times before. you’re perfect partners, it’s evident in the way you reward his throbbing cock with dribbles of your creamy arousal — droplets of soft white running down and catching on veins on his shaft.
“i’m always going to love you, baby,” satoru’s soft laments echo through the home you’ve made with your over lover — barely audible over his balls slapping against your peachy ass and your cunt selfishly squeezing down on him, squelching with every thrust. “i’m always gonna want you like this, even when we fuck up. e-even when we’re not together,” he growls and rambles, blissful blue eyes darting all over your face twisted with ecstasy and right down to where you paint him with arousal and suck him in so well. “fuuuck, i wanna cum…s-say you want it, say you want me.”
it’s overwhelming, how much love you have for satoru. for your ex. it washes over your feelings of guilt in regard to your infidelity, any bad emotion or thought of your partner cannot compare to the burning and bright lust that flickers in your tummy. when you fuck yourself down on gojo’s throbbing girth he pulls back out of your snug, salacious sex — creating a delicious cycle of friction that you never want to forget. that you miss so bad.
“i want…i want you!” you stutter, tears brewing in your starry eyes. “i miss you, i love you,” the words rush out of you before your hazy mind can even catch up and register them. you barely manage to register that you’re fucking your ex just mere hours after arguing with your special one. it doesn’t matter, not right now and not in this moment. not when satoru teases your clit until you’re able to cum all over him, painting his thighs with your slick as you slump against him.
even though he shouldn’t, even though he’s ruined your relationship, gojo cums inside your quivering cunt. fills you to the brim with his viscous, scorching seed and there’s so much of it that it seeps from your entrance — pooling okto the couch below.
“i love you.”
“i know.”
“come back to me, baby.”
“i…i don’t know if i can…”
you want to so badly, especially the damage is done, sealed by stolen kisses that’ll mean nothing in the morning.
satoru’s gotten what he wanted, to make you question your relationship and remind you of why you should come back to him. you fell asleep an intertwined mess on the couch and he leaves in the early hours of the next day.
all so that your current partner will never know the events that occurred on the night of your fight — you don’t have to heart to tell them when they come back the next morning with your favourite flowers and an apology. they shouldn’t have left you. they shouldn’t have gone to satoru behind your back. they love you.
but it’s already too late, a seed of doubt has been planted in your mind by your ex. you release that you still want him, that you might even miss him and the foundation of your new relationship becomes shaky and unstable.
you’ve grown insecure and you will always be comparing your current partner to your last partner. to gojo.
and your lover? now they’re insecure too, because you’re always so distant and you always smell a little different when you come home these days.
because you’ve started going behind their back to be with your ex, satoru, too.
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꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
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sh1-n0bu · 3 days
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♡︎ 𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙪𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙙 ♡︎
characters: AFAB!sub!jing yuan, dan heng, blade x gn!dom!reader
warnings: AFAB characters, overstimulation, headcannon+small drabble format, praise, degrading, cock/strap traditions, dacryphilia, usage of bullet vibrator, slight brat taming, nipple stimulation, fingering, oral, cervix fucking, begging, squirting, clit pinching, cock/strap warming, size kink, belly bulge, breeding, creampie, mating press, full nelson, just a personal headcannon of how i think they would act when overstimulated
notes: someone wrote “nobody writes ahegao quite like nobu does” in one of their repost tags and im fucking shitting tears😭😭
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the giggler
jing yuan loves to be overstimulated. he loves the feeling of it, the adrenaline rush, the high, the feeling of finally cumming all over your fingers, tongue, strap whatever it may be and the feeling of you continuing to move, drawing out his orgasm while also driving him into an overstimulated mess
has the cutest giggles and laughs when he gets too much pleasure. he doesn’t even try to hide or won’t even try to hide it. why would he when you were making him feel so good over and over again? hell, he even wants other people to hear it, to remind them that you were his lover and only his. and how only he gets to feel the overwhelming amount of pleasure only you can bring to him and no one else
but, it comes with a catch. he needs a lot of foreplay and/or teasing and/or orgasm denial for him to finally cave in and shake his head before starting to blabber incoherent shit about how good your cock feels inside his gushing pussy, how he could feel your tip fucking his cervix, how he wanted you to fuck a baby inside him etc etc
and i mean a LOT of it
as a centuries old war hardened general, it’s safe to say that he had gotten used to some feelings and emotions. pleasure being one of them
so if you want to get him to break and to become absolutely dumb and drunk on lust and pleasure, you have to tease him a lots before getting into it. if not, he will somehow find a way to outsmart you and take the reigns. he’s a bit of a brat and a spoiled prince wrapped up into one after all
will tell you what to do and how to do it if you have failed in getting him needy in your foreplay. he will fist your hair and thrust his hips into your mouth, making you unable to breath for a moment or two with his clit right at your nose. will push you down and flip your positions so he could ride your face, all the while chuckling at your cute attempt to push him back down. a goddamn brat and he will show it to the fullest when you fail at your foreplay
did i mention he was a brat? well now i have. a fucking brat to the max and he isn’t ashamed of it. will definitely question your power in the bedroom, try to overpower you and he will. he literally swings a 7000kg glaive in one hand like its nothing and he will show it by throwing you around. gently and consensually of course, he wouldn’t want to hurt his beloved
but fully expect him to be cocky and devious. “can you say no to my pretty pussy?”, “so sleepy. oh sorry, i didn’t know your cock was inside me hehe”, “was that all?” you get the gist. will shamelessly yawn in the middle of fucking not because he is sleepy or tired, but simply because he is a brat. a goddamn brat
so, how can you get him to be needy and won’t make him go into his bratty side? simple. shove a long distance controlled vibrator inside his cunt and leave it there for the whole day for him to suffer at work. but if you’re going to do that, be sure to mute the ringtone for your phone for the day since he will call you, send you messages, pictures, videos every damn hour. the closer his hour for shift ending comes, the more frequent the buzzing of your phone will become because he will grow much more needier
when finally he’s back home and frantically pawing at your pants when barely through the doors, that’s when you know he had absolutely no intention of being a brat. how can he when his whole pants were slowly getting stained from his multiple orgasms?
when he’s gladly bending himself over, arching his back for you as he wiggles his hips, he will ask you to come inside. jing yuan is great with kids and such a huge family man, he will ask you over and over repeatedly to breed him. cum inside him, fill up his cute dripping cunt, put him in whatever position you want and make sure to breed his pretty cunt, you can finally raise your own family together!
remember the long distance controlled vibrator i mentioned? make sure to keep it on and buzzing inside his cunt at all times when he’s away at work, or else it won’t work. during meetings or report hearings, jing yuan had to leave to the bathroom a lot of times and it genuinely got his subordinates concerned for his health. the red face, the heavy breathing and sometimes, the jolts of his body or the bleeding bruised lips of his made the cloud knights worry and some even suggested for him to leave the seat of divine foresight early to look after his health. if only they knew just how their dearest general was pathetically biting on his hand to muffle his screams in the bathroom as he squirted all over himself
“[naaammeee], ‘m mmgh♡︎! aaaaangh haah mngck♡︎♡︎ i-i’m home!” jing yuan’s voice called out, weak mewls of pleasure slipping through as he collapsed onto the floor the moment the doors of your shared home was closed. desperately humping the floor, trying to push the vibrator deeper into his gushing pussy, your lover didn’t realize that you were leaning against the wall of the kitchen, watching him with a knowing smile. there was a wet patch growing in his usual red pants, growing more and more the further he humped the air in desperation. see? your tough brat was so easy to tame.
“you feeling okay, darling?” you call out, taking out the controlled from your pants pocket and messing with the switch. flipping it up, down, up to the highest level, before going to the lowest level. it was cute to see the ever so tough brat turn into a delirious mess from just a single small toy. all because he was being so stubborn about how you weren’t the boss of him. walking over to where he was kneeling on the floor, you reach your free hand out. tilting his head up, a thumb swiping away at the drool that was beginning to pool on his lower lip, you tilt your head to the side, asking the question again with a firm hold onto his chin.
“n-no…! no no no, not at aamgh♡︎♡︎ h-hhaaaggm not at all♡︎!” he shakes his head viciously, dragging out his words and tripping over them with moans and mewls falling in between. pathetically, he tugs on the hem of your pants, trying to get to his favorite treat, the one thing he’s been missing this whole day.
“n-need you… need you right now, need your—♡︎♡︎! need yo-our..! c-cock right now...♡︎!” jing yuan mutters between whimpers, finally, his shaky hands manage to pull down your pants and undergarments just enough to have your strap out. a needy whine falling as he places slobbering wet kisses on the tip, giving it a few licks as he flutters his lashes at you in an effort to manipulate you to give him what he was non-verbally asking.
knowing full well that he wouldn’t take no for an answer and that yanqing might come home soon, you drag him up to his feet — an action that was heavily protested against as jing yuan cries out after his favorite treat being taken away. once inside the comfort of your shared bedroom, by the time you have locked the door behind you, he was already naked. clothes messily strewn on the floor and on the bed, the many orgasm’s slick dripping down his puffy cunt to his ass and to the bedsheets eventually. you could see the light trembling of his pussy lips, an action caused by the vibrator fucking away inside him still.
turning the vibrator off, you take the toy out of his puffy cunt. jing yuan let out a drawn out mewl at the feeling, clenching around nothing as he tries to replace the empty feeling for something, anything. but seeing you starting to strip, he knew what he wanted. and he knew how he wanted it.
spreading his legs open further, his hand comes down, flicking at his enlarged clit with a jolt before spreading open his labia for you to take in how he was already so needily wet and dripping for you. a drunk giggle escaping him when the tip of your cock is right against his folds, wiggling his hips enticingly.
“[nnaameeee]~ you gotta fuck a baby in me this time, owhkayyy?♡︎♡︎ hehehe♥︎”
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the crybaby
the cutest out of all three of them, in my personal opinion
he just gets overstimmed so easily and quickly, it’s adorable in the way that he brokenly begs for a moment of respite. legs shaking, smaller body jolting violently at the smallest of touches like your hand ghosting over his hardened nipples. don’t even get me started on the way he cutely squeals out loud when you pinch his clit augh
maybe it’s due to his nature as a vidyadhara and not a full human but every little touch is received with so much sensitivity and sensuality, it gets so easy to turn him into a blabbering mess in record time. push his smaller body against the wall and finger his gushing pussy while rolling your thumb over his clit. in no time, his legs are shaking as he bites your hand, his orgasm washing over him quickly and violently. but don’t just stop there, keep flicking at his clit, pinch it, tug on it, push a hand on the small bulge on his belly and he’ll be left sobbing by the second or third round
he’s noticeably smaller than the other two and it carries out into his size kink so well. he just wants to be pushed around and put into impossible, near painful positions and man-handled until he’s left a blabbering idiot
make him cockwarm you while asking him to read you a story or a book under the guise that you had a nightmare and can’t fall asleep without his soothing voice and soft cunny wrapped around your cock. at first he’ll huff and puff, saying that you’re a liar and just wants to fuck him. four or five pages in and his voice is already strained, whines coming out as hiccups and sniffles follow soon after
but just because he’s a crybaby doesn’t mean he’s an idiot. he knows how much you love his pretty steel grey eyes unfocused and hazy, brimming with tears and he will use that to his advantage. will make sure to play with his nipples or push down on the bulge in his tummy when cockwarming you so he could get teary eyed quicker. the moment he sniffles and grinds himself down on you, he knows you’re a goner and would give him what he wants
he may be a crybaby, but he’s also a goddamn minx so beware of that
tugs on your sleeve so cutely, looking at you with a flushed face and stuttered words to ask you if you wanna spend time with him in his room. today’s trailblazing expedition was too long and tiring after all, “surely you would enjoy some cuddles…?” or “i just wanted to help you patch up your wounds. i was just worried”
yeah sure, dan heng. just say that you wanna get fucked until you’re squealing out like a slut with fat tears running down your cute red cheeks. thank the aeons the express’ walls are thick and soundproof. if not, who knows the amount of noise complaint you would have gotten from everyone
has slight oral fixation. slightly. but that’s only because he wants to see you crumble and give into his non-verbal demands and just ruin him. he’s a bit too shy to ask directly after all
long serpentine tongue wrapping around your strap, pulling it into his mouth. will gag and choke so loudly with the tip of the fat dildo pushed right down his throat, hitting his uvula and choking his throat. he can complain about sore throats and pained jaws all he wants but you both know that he loves to suckle on your strap with tears filling his eyes
the most messiest cock sucker and that’s saying something bc blade is the one who has the biggest oral fixation out of the three of them. he’ll place wet kisses to the weeping tip of your cock, running the slitted snake like tongue over the weeping slit of your cock teasingly before wrapping it around your dick. loves the scent and the taste of your pre, basically addicted to it as he opens his mouth wider, slipping your cock inside the warm cavern of his mouth inch by inch
but be aware that he will also try to take advantage of this position. he will try to bat his lashes at you so he can continue suckling on your strap like he would be sucking on a lolipop, all under the guise to ‘make you happy’. when in reality, he would try to make you cum over and over to try and get you overstimulated. when in such position, just fist his hair and fuck his throat. gets him crying in no time like the crybaby he is
“… bamboo whispers in the w-wind, a secret pa-aaangh! aah aaah hmgk♡︎ a s-secret pa-act... ♡︎!“ the soothing voice of your lover drawls out into a weak sniffle, hands gripping the book filled with love poetry from his home planet tightly. so tight, you feared that he might just tear the book apart with his claws. you had crawled into his bed yet again to torment him today, the dildo hitting all the sensitive spots in his gushing cunt, dan heng couldn’t help but weakly whine when your hands around his waist tightens to not let him move.
“go on. i’m listening” you coo out, forcing him to stay still on your lap while his voice continue to drawl out. sniffles and broken pleads replacing his ever so stoic mask, a voice that is usually so cold and distant, always scolding other turning into one of mindless blabber about how badly he wanted your strap to fuck his pussy. you couldn’t help but laugh.
“is that what it says on the pages? i may be still learning the strokes but the next line seems to be the stroke for two” you point at the kanji on the book he was holding in his shaking hands, the strokes of the language seeming familiar to you. it was an easy kanji to read after all. yet not to your boyfriend it seems.
“please! p-please please move! i beg you, [n-naamee]♡︎ you gotta fuck meeh♡︎ you gotta fuck me you gotta fuck me— you have to fuck meeegck—♡︎♡︎!!” dan heng squeals, shaking thighs bucking down onto your dick, trying to gain some friction. it was enough, he had read you hundreds of love poetries from his home planet. he had been taking your pronged torture for long enough, please just fuck his cunt already!
“so impatient” you huff, putting the book away with a book marker tucked between the pages before hooking your hands under his knees. pulling him up and over until dan heng was left wailing at the sudden change in position. hooking your arms under his knees, his legs are left dangling in the air with nothing to support himself but for his hands to cling to your biceps. even then, he couldn’t hold for long as he jolts about in your arms like a hopping bunny, painting your dildo in his cum when the tip kissed his cervix.
“guuchk♥︎!! d-deep! aah ah naahmg haah t-too deep♡︎♡︎ [n-name] you’re f-fucckk fuck fuck—♡︎♥︎ fucking my cerviinxx my ceerrvv—♡︎♡︎ mngh unngya♥︎!” punched out sobs comes from his pretty lips, drawling out into whiny cries when you move him up and down. you could see the bulge in his tummy appear and disappear every little moment. every jolt, every gasp, every little whiny cry making the bulge in his tummy to get more detailed. he was so adorably small.
“‘m sorry, darling. i’m sorry, didn’t mean it. didn’t mean to fuck you this deep” you coo out apologies, lifting him just a bit so your strap won’t sink so deep to the point it would kiss his cervix. as much as you loved your crybaby gasping and writhing, you didn’t want the reason for such reaction to be pain.
claws scratching at every inch of skin he could touch, jaw slack open in a silent scream, you could barely make out his shrill yell of what appears to be your name when dan heng squirts over your cock after just a few thrusts. you could see the overflowing amount of cum just dripping down your cock, trailing down to your legs and staining the mattress. with a click of your tongue, you pinched his clit, making the shorter man sniffle with a squeal.
“‘m soowryyy… sorry sorry—♡︎ d-didn’t mean to be bad... s-soowwh uunhg hyaagk ungc gugcck—♥︎♥︎!!”
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the hissy bitch
alright, so i know i’m going into territory that has been charted way too many times before by blade lovers standard but he def has piercings. on his nipples, tongue and on his clit. probably got the first three by losing a drunk bet or something or maybe he just wanted it but the last one, the clit one, is definitely his latest piercing. one that he got after his relationship with you began and he had made the sudden rash decision to get one so he could see your reaction and to feel you just messing with it while fucking him
there is a REASON why he always keeps his chest bandaged up. there is a goddamn reason and that reason is his nipple piercings and the fact that his chest is generally very sensitive im being delusional
so what does that bring and why have i specified it? simple. titty fucking. nipple stimulation. seeing his pretty big, round chest jiggle every time your cock sinks back into his dripping cunt. pinch it, roll it, tug on them, suckle on them, do anything to him with his nipple piercing and he’s scratching at your back, mauling it like an animal
the reason i see him as a hissy bitch is because he likes to throw small temper tantrums when he gets too overstimulated. he’s crying, begging, hitting your shoulders, back, scratching at them and leaving deep red scratch marks, perhaps even breaking the skin sometimes. how come blade get overstimulated quickly? because he is very touch deprived. he’s been alone and immortal for too damn long and his ass is fucking touch starved. i just know it in my bones
genuinely, he is indeed very touch starved. since his rebirth as an immortal, he had felt nothing but pain, anguish and suffering and therefore, has basically gotten immune to touches. especially the violent and bloody ones. but gentle, tender, affectionate ones? find him jumping away from your soft hands like a frightened cat, it’s goddamn heartbreaking. so when he finally gets his cunt fucked, blade would be overstimmed too fast due to receiving a sudden abundance of affection and touches
will shake his head ‘no’ when asked if you would wanna stop due to his tears. you were just concerned but blade didn’t wanted this onslaught of pleasure to stop. desperately rides your fingers, mouth, strap — anything. loves the feeling of being on top of you, gives him the slight feeling of being in control. until it all gets thrown out the window when you force him to stop bouncing, hands gripping his hips tightly as a warning. will whine and try to grind down, trying to chase that high again but will only end up with a pout and hissy tears falling down his cheeks
another one who loves the feeling of being stuffed full and overstimulated. it’s almost like he gets high from the feeling. loves having his pussy fucked in any way you please until he can’t stay on his hands or feet without shaking. it’s just so cute to see him shaking like a fawn when fucking him doggy style
prepare to have yourself used as a chew toy as well as a scratcher. blade’s almost like a cat, hissy and whiny but also so greedy and preferring certain things in certain manner. will bite at your shoulders, hands, fingers to muffle himself but also to try and get his shit together. will scratch at your back, thighs, wherever he could reach. such a spoiled brat
when eating him out, be sure to give an extra care and love to his clit piercing. constantly flicking it with your tongue would usually work though, gets his legs all shaky and jolty soon enough. maybe pair it with flicking his pierced nubs and bladie will be squirting into your mouth with an embarrassing high pitched shriek. make sure to clean up all of his mess before diving right back into his gushing cunny. he may not say it but he will expect you to go back to eating him out like he’s your last meal
has the BIGGEST oral fixation out of the three of them. like, down bad, delicious, scrumptious, sloppy oral fixation. and he is happy to give it 90% of the times due to his tongue piercing. knows how good it makes you feel and how you like to see his pretty face between your legs, sucking on the large dildo like his life depends on it. not a single thought or a single moment of choking from him, it’s almost like he doesn’t have a gag reflex
you just came back from mission, from being away from him even for a single day? unacceptable. let him bend over for you, you can get your stress out by fucking his already dripping wet pussy. too tired? that’s fine. take of your pants and get comfortable cuz’ he can stay between your legs for days
not a single minute of respite has greeted you ever since you came back from your latest mission, stepping foot into your shared home with your stoic lover. perhaps the single gentle kiss to your cheek before he started to leave slobbering wet kisses on your lips was the only warning and moment of rest you have gotten. not even shoes off yet and blade was already unbuckling your belt, giving you the puppy eyes and grumbling about how you’ve been away for too damn long. whining about how much he missed you and needed your strap to fuck him dumb. how his pretty pussy had missed you so much.
“n-nnghyaa♡︎♡︎ m-missed you... missed you s’ much, [name]! f-fuck me fuck me fuck me, fuck your favorite cunt gyyuck—♥︎♥︎ a-aaanh! haah ah ah mmngk—♡︎♥︎!!” unusually docile red eyes roll to the back of his skull, jaw going slack wide open as you push his legs up, feeling your strap hit him deeper than he thought was possible. he could feel your weight push him down, keeping it still on the bed and to stop him from wiggling his hips entirely. this new position caused his cat like pupils to widen, turning into heart shapes as you chuckle at the dazed look in his eyes.
“such a needy brat” you coo out in a condescending manner, pushing his legs up in the air with your hands hooked under his knees to keep him in place. pulling out until halfway out, you sink back into blade’s dripping cunt. a squeal tearing from his throat alongside the filthy wet squelch of his cunt tightening around your dildo. it was so easy to get him dumb.
“t-too nngh much! too muchtoomuchtoomuch♡︎! fucking m-my womb—♡︎ [n-name], y-youuwrr crush— crushing my wombgg aangh ah ah! gyyuck eengh aaangh nyaagh♥︎♥︎!!” the familiar feeling of his nails scratching at your arms takes place, tearing at the skin, clawing at any part of your body he can come in contact with. a desperate attempt to ground his already long gone mind, too deep into the throes of pleasure that he didn’t even realize his shaking hands were weakly pulling your hips to fuck deeper into his warm walls.
“don’t be so dramatic, bladie. i won’t be able to crush your womb in this position” you coo out mockingly, wiping away the fat globs of tears that continue to pour of his eyes. red and yellow eyes rolled to the back of his skull, wide open mouth letting out the most salacious squeals and shrieks of your name and how you were fucking his womb falling out. legs weakly dangling in the air, jolting and bristling at every deep thrust you fuck into his velvety walls. the lewd wet squelching noises were alongside your grunts and blade’s whiny sobs were the only noise in the room. you would probably get noise complaints the next morning due to blade’s loudmouthed blabbering self.
letting go of one of his legs, you shove your fingers into his mouth. almost as if it was an instinct, blade’s tongue wet your fingers. suckling on the two digits as it his life depended on it with the most cutest heart shaped pupils staring at you. once you deemed them wet enough, you take your fingers out of his mouth. an action that blade showed his hatred towards as his pierced tongue comes past his lips, trying to chase after your fingers.
“gghcck—♡︎♥︎♥︎♥︎!!” a sharp wail taking place as blade arches his back, his whole body shaking, soft big tits jiggling when you pinched at his pierced clit. rolling, tugging, flicking at the hardened nub as blade sobs about cumming before drenching your cock with his squirting. you had thought of him to be satisfied with it, but turns out you have underestimated your lover’s neediness when his strong scarred thighs comes to wrap around your waist, legs locked behind your back when you tried to pull out.
sigh… it’s times like this that makes you glad for your amount of stamina.
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dead-dove-yandere · 3 months
Text
OC Intro - ╹◡╹
Secret Admirer Yandere
??? ♡ ??? ♡ Human? ♡ Office Worker
TW: Stalking, obsession, delusional behaviour, threats, mention of a blade, implied kidnapping/murder
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♡ - You’re an office worker - it’s not your ideal job, but it pays the bills. You keep your work life strictly separate from the rest of your life, always keeping your head down and focusing on the task at hand rather than talking to any of your colleagues, but not working hard enough to get noticed for a promotion. You don’t plan to stick around in this career after all.
♡ - Any of your coworkers shouldn’t have known much about you at all. To be honest, you didn’t know much about any of them anyway. You were perfectly happy just blending into the background.
♡ - But, one Monday morning, as you near your desk, you notice something unusual. Pasted right on the corner of your computer monitor, sits a post it note. At first you assume someone missed you and wanted to leave a reminder for some kind of memo or meeting, but reading it sends a shiver down your spine.
♡ - “Have a wonderful day at work, honey. ╹◡╹”
♡ - You stare at the message on the yellow post it, written in red biro, trying to fathom who it’s from. You assume someone must have left it on the wrong desk by mistake, and throw the post it away.
♡ - The post its don’t stop though. Everyday you come to your desk and see a new one, all with similar cutesy messages, all signed off with that smiley face.
♡ - “Make sure to drink plenty of water! ╹◡╹”
♡ - “You look amazing today, honey. ╹◡╹”
♡ - “I miss you so much! ╹◡╹”
♡ - On Friday, you get sick of it. You go around, asking all your coworkers if their partners have perhaps got the wrong desk, but no one seems to recognise the handwriting.
♡ - Giving it up as a bad job, you decide to talk to HR about it once Monday rolls around again.
♡ - The weekend comes as a bit of relief, but it doesn’t last long.
♡ - Monday inevitably arrives, and again, there is a post it note on your desk. You do a quick tour of the office, hoping to perhaps catch the culprit, but everyone has yellow post it notes on their desk - there is no way to tell who it is from.
♡ - You go to HR, but there is little they can do for you without any knowledge or proof of who is leaving them. Deflated, you go back to your desk and work, trying to focus but unable to.
♡ - When Friday rolls around again, the note reads differently than usual.
♡ - “You seemed stressed, honey. Let me take you out tonight - my treat. Meet me at 7, at that restaurant we both like. Wear something nice. ╹◡╹”
♡ - You haven’t a clue what restaurant they mean, and even if you did, there is no way in hell you are going with some stranger that seems to have some strange one sided love for you. You crumple the note in frustration and throw it away, as you have with all the other post it notes.
♡ - Monday arrives again, but this time instead of a note, it seems there is a letter.
♡ - it’s written on the standard issue memo paper found anywhere around the office. It seems crumpled and tear stained. Whoever is writing them seems to have switched from a red biro to a red ink pen, but the ink seems oddly dark and brown.
♡ - “Honey. I waited for you all night. You never showed. Do you have any idea how much that hurt? How humiliating it was to be sobbing in the middle of the restaurant? I came back here at the weekend and found all my love notes for you in your bin. Why are you so cruel? Did I do something wrong? Do you not love me anymore? You’re coming home tonight. I let you stay at your own place long enough, I know new couples need time before moving in together but this has gone too far. You haven’t even visited or called or texted once. Come home. We have some serious discussion to do. ╹︵╹”
♡ - You can’t bring yourself to get any work done, you can’t bring yourself to eat, you can’t even bring yourself to try and tell HR again. You stand up and do another lap of the office, carefully examining everyone’s faces, trying to work out who might have sent this damned letter, but you can’t tell. You haven’t even the faintest idea.
♡ - You eye all your coworkers with suspicion, until finally you can’t take it anymore and hide in the toilets. You stay there, frightened to leave, right up until it’s time to clock out, and even then, it takes you a long time to work up the courage to leave.
♡ - When you finally get out, the office is empty. There is no one else there, apart from you. You find the darkened cubicles eerie, yet you breathe a sigh of relief anyway. Surely that must mean the note writer is gone too? You run out into the car park, making a mad dash for it, then stop short just as your car comes into view.
♡ - It’s covered in post it notes of varying colours, each one scrawled in that weird red ink. Some are angry, others plead for your forgiveness or return. Every single one is wet with tear stains.
♡ - You freeze. You have to call the police - you’ve let this go one long enough. You take a step back, ready to run back to the office and hole yourself up until the police arrive, only to stop when you feel a knife against your back and hear a voice you don’t recognise.
♡ - “Oh honey, you aren’t getting away with this that easily…”
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Personality
The most mysterious of all, “Smiley” (╹◡╹) hasn’t quite seemed to grasp that it wouldn’t be obvious to their darling who they are. In their eyes, they’re already with their darling, and their tactics are less trying to get close to their daring and moreso engaging in what they think is cute couple behaviour. When their darling ignores or dismisses their bids for attention? Well, hell hath no fury like a lover scorned. It’s probably too late for their darling by the time they finally see the face of their admirer.
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Dividers Credit: See Pinned Post
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chastiefoul · 1 year
Text
stood up.
characters: ayato & alhaitham
summary:
Your boyfriend promised a long overdue date on the winter season—albeit how busy he was.
But as you waited and waited for him on the agreed spot, why does it look like he’s not coming?
tags: a lil angsty, comfort would be on part 2
Alhaitham
You were giddy as you woke up, immediately getting ready for the long awaited date you both have today. Amidst the research he’s been busy working with at the time, he finally managed to take a brief break and told you he missed you wanted to spend time with you which you couldn’t possibly refuse since you missed him just as much.
It was heavily snowing outside—you took a mental note as you pick a warm outfit for today. You were very excited about the date that you had arrived fifteen minutes early, silently hoping maybe your boyfriend would come a little early too since it’s been a while that you both spend a quality time.
“I need coffee,” Alhaitham groaned as he went out from his room, completely exhausted and sleep-deprived. Kaveh who coincidentally was in the dining room just stared at him as if saying ‘then pour it yourself tf?’. Alhaitham made a cup for himself and took a sip. “It’s noon, and you’re just waking up?” the blond said disapprovingly while the grey-haired man only sighed. “It can’t be helped that I needed to sleep late every day for the past week. Also mind your own business, don’t you have that presentation you’ve deemed all week as important today?” He asked, annoyed. “Huh? That was yesterday.” Kaveh said, confused. Alhaitham widened his eyes. “What?” Panic rises inside Alhaitham’s chest as he asked.
“What date is it today?” His stomach dropped, refusing to believe that he had mixed up such an important date only because he was dwelled to deep on his research, even though he promised to meet you. He looked at the clock, 12 p.m, you both agreed to meet at 9 a.m.
 “Seventeenth.” Kaveh confirmed, quickly snapping Alhaitham’s useless idle thought.
The scribe cursed out loud then went to grab the first coat he saw and swiftly go out.
Please still be there, please still be there.
He ran full speed at the agreed spot. He so wanted you to still be there but perhaps it would be too cruel at your side since you’d be standing still at the same spot waiting in the cold for three whole hours.
Then he saw you there, standing as you had your hands deep on your pocket, your nose red from the cold.
“(y/n)!” Alhaitham called out, but you didn’t budge at the noise. He approached you, overwhelmed with guilt. “I’m sor-“
“I told you before that we didn’t have to meet if you’re busy, I told you I could wait.” You said, uncharacteristically slow that it was unnerving. “But I didn’t mean it like this,” you whispered, finally losing it. Alhaitham’s heart broke at the tone, but he knew he didn’t have the right. “Waiting here for three whole hours that people from shop nearby talked to me and said I should warm myself up for a moment and I stupidly refuse, scared that you’d come while I was gone and you’d think I forgot about today..” you paused.
“I looked like a fool—no, I was an utter fool.”
“Please. I can explain-“
“Gosh what an interesting way to apologize,” your eyes hot with tears that were threatening to spill. “Seeing you now, clearly just waking up with no effort whatsoever to get yourself ready.. just how pathetic do you want me to feel, Alhaitham?” you sniffled, feeling uncomfortable and heartbroken. The fact that you were looking forward to today for days and he did not even bother to remember. That fact cuts deep.
The man’s heart ached more by the sudden call of his full name, not the usual endearing nickname of ‘haitham’.
You walked away, wiping your tears. Alhaitham who witness your back getting smaller as you take a step after another could only stand still, quietly searching for the words he could find to first and foremost apologize, then to find a way to make it all up to you.
Ayato
It was definitely not easy, being by Ayato’s side, but you made it work—you always do. And Ayato couldn’t hope for more of an understanding partner—and he didn’t let you forget that, but this made you reluctant to voice your worries, scared that he would picture you as this selfish person. But if you were given a wish, perhaps you’d want to be able to spend a little more time with your boyfriend. Just a little.
When there’s patience, there’s too, a limit.
You’re currently waiting for Ayato at the meeting spot you both agreed on the day before. You wouldn’t mind a ten or fifteen minutes tardiness, anyone could’ve make such mistake, but feeling how stiff your fingers were and seeing the sun position, it’s safe to say you’ve been waiting for more than four hours. There are strangers who passed by earlier, and when the same people witnessed you still glued in the same spot they saw you, you couldn’t help but look down.
A quiet but incisive sense of shame overwhelmed you, that you had such faith in this man that you were willing to wait even hours on such weather, not even knowing that if Ayato had felt the same anticipation—clearly not, since him or even his retainer that usually gave you news about his well-being was nowhere in sight. You couldn’t help but laugh self-deprecatingly at your foolishness as you finally decided to give up and go home, not even thinking about the reason why he had forgotten about the date. The bottom line was that he stood you up, whether it was unintentional at the end of the day, you were hurt. And it was finally time to tell him that he would not get away with it.
The next day, your body had to pay up the price of waiting on such a snowy weather that you caught a fever. It wasn’t worth it in the slightest but at least this way you don’t have to face him for a while, since you don’t really have anything nice to say if forced to see his face.
That thought was short-lived however, seeing that Ayato had decided to come, on a day where you both didn’t agree to meet up on. You were laying down, even with the thick layers of clothing you still felt somewhat cold.
“You didn’t come this morning as you usually do, so I got worried,” he explained the sudden visit. Your head hurt, but truly it was incomparable to the ache you’re experiencing on your chest. Ayato seemed to had completely forgotten the fact that he was supposed to meet you yesterday. “What were you doing that you’ve become this ill, love?” There was nothing but pure concern in his voice but this made you more spiteful, more infuriated.
“I was waiting for someone for hours out in the cold yesterday.” You said, still burying yourself in the blanket, not bothering to make eye contact with the man. At this he was thinking back that perhaps you had tell him about this engagement, but his expression quickly drop, as he remembered. You wanted to laugh at it since you’ve never seen such face on him, but that was a luxury you had to postpone until a later date where you had felt a little better.
“Sweethe-“ He quickly said but you cut him off. “Don’t call me that. And don’t even think about touching me.” You said sternly, as he swiftly retracted the hand that was about to touch your head.
“(y/n), I apologize but I-“
And you’ve had about enough of his exuses—no matter how important, you don’t even care anymore, you just wanted Ayato out of your sight.
“It’s always something with you, isn’t it? I’m tired, Ayato.” You said meekly, truly exhausted by the way he always had something to say, a ­­way to get out of being berated, reasons that you had to understand even though it was the same as saying that he had put you second—or maybe below that yet again. “I don’t want to understand it anymore, I give up.” You finally said, and only at this point Ayato had realized just how much he had hurt you over the course of you dating him.
“I’m done being your loyal dog that you can treat however you please, Ayato. Leave.”
“(y/n)-“
“I said, leave.” You repeated.
Ayato could only stand up and got out as guilt was eating him away slowly. It wouldn’t be an understatement to say that he had taken advantage of your kindness and took you for granted. The regrets tasted bitter on his tongue. As he went out from your haven there was only one thing running through his mind. How could he possibly fix this?
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yuuuhiii · 4 months
Text
I just want you ᡣ𐭩
includes : Megumi x reader , angst w fluff ending , 0.9k words , kisses
ai’s notes : I luv him sm :((( not proof read
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You stomp your feet all the way into the lounging area where Nobara, Yuuji and your boyfriend were.
You could hear Nobara and Yuuji teasing Megumi and if it was any other day you’d be there to back him up, even though he didn’t really care for their words. But today wasn’t any other day, you were mad and you had a very valid reason to be.
All of their eyes are on you and Megumi softly smiles at you. It’s soon wiped off his face when you’re pulling him by the ear, Nobara and Yuuji on the verge of laughing but also amused.
“Ah!—What the hell are you doing—Y/n!”
You let him yell at you as you yank him down the hall and into an empty classroom, sliding the classroom door shut.
“What the hell is your problem!” He grabs at his ear, glaring at you, but his gaze immediately softens when he sees you on the verge of tears.
“Hey, what’s wrong.” His brows furrow. He moves to hold you but you step away, making his stomach drop.
“Did you think I wouldn’t find out?”
You’re trying to hold yourself together, biting your lip so it wouldn’t jitter. Megumi’s more than confused but he’s trying to rack his mind of every possibility, just something that he did that would have you upset this much.
“Look. I don’t know what you’re talking about but I’m sorry.” He tries to reason and you look so broken, his heart is beating so fast but it wasn’t in the way he liked.
“Gojo-sensei told me about Mahoraga.” You glare at him and he stiffens.
Fuck.
Maybe he did lie to you about that technique, yes it was a ritual but he never told you that he had to sacrifice himself for it to work.
“You’ve tried to summon him at least five times for me!” You yell, your tears already falling, voice breaking.
He doesn’t know what to say and in a way he’s letting you break down, so you could let it all out.
“Why would you lie to me, especially about that.” You pout, sounding so desperate and hurt that it’s killing Megumi in the inside.
His mouth opens and closes, like a fish out of water with no oxygen. You crush him with your arms, holding on to him as if he’d disappear at any second, sobbing in his chest.
“You can’t keep sacrificing yourself like this Megumi, Gojo-sensei said you had the potential to be the strongest.” You say and he finally replies.
“I don’t want to be the strongest.”
Even though it’s a smart ass reply he’s holding you close to him, scared that things will go south and you’ll leave him.
“That’s not the point! But you can get stronger. How are you supposed to get stronger if you’re constantly trying to kill yourself.”
That makes him bite his tongue because you were right.
“I don’t care if you want to get stronger or not, I care about you.” You whimper, your cries not ceasing. Megumi combs his hands through your hair.
“I don’t want you to sacrifice yourself for me, I don’t want your soul, or your curse—”
“I’d never curse you.”
Your glare shuts him up.
“I want you. Like this, how I have you now, this is all I want.” You say so sincerely, holding his face in your hands.
“Alive, healthy and by my side. For as long as I can have you.”
His heart beat hasn’t slowed down, if anything it’s picked up, but now because your words have reduced him to a flushing mess. His ears and cheeks red, eyes softening.
“You’ll always have me.” He whispers, cradling your face now.
You don’t reply but you kiss him with so much passion, trying to gather up all the love you had for him and he kisses you the same way. The both of you afraid to lose each other.
Megumi couldn’t think of a world without you but he never stopped to think how you’d feel if he wasn’t in yours. Mostly because he’d do anything for you, even if that met giving up on his life for your wellbeing.
When you pull away you both are just as close, sharing each other’s breath.
“You have to promise me you won’t use it anymore, that you’ll get stronger so you don’t have to resort to that, or else I’ll leave you.”
Megumi’s hands squeeze around your waist at the last part, brows furrowing. You knew you’d never be able to but he didn’t need to know that. He rests his forehead on yours, squeezing his eyes.
“I wont use it.” He sighs.
“You promise?” You look up at him, making him melt.
“Promise.”
You lift up your pinky, and he shakes his head in amusement. Linking pinkies with you and touching your thumb, pecking it right after.
“You can’t break it, or I’ll have to cut off your pinky.” You pout and he chuckles.
“Yea I know.” He pecks your lips.
Smiling into his kiss, you lead up with a million pecks, causing his smile to rise as well.
“I love you ‘gumi.” You whisper, brushing your lips with his and he holds the small of your back.
“I love you too, so much.” He says as he nuzzles his face into your neck, placing a peck there as well.
At peace knowing that you were no longer mad at him.
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© yuuuhiii 24 : don’t plagiarize, translate, or post my work on other platforms
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blue-jisungs · 4 months
Text
fighting with them ♡
author's note. my very poor attempt on angst written in june 2023 LMAOOOOO enjoy!! (do not ask me why am i posting it now, i dont know either.)
making up after a fight - here !
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┆彡 CHAN [ 찬 ]
chan couldn’t put a finger on it but there was something going on with you lately. from all of the people in the world he knew the best how life can get overwhelming sometimes. you were there for him during his hardships of being an idol… and a human being, in general.
and clearly, you were going through something too. but you didn’t say a word and even seemed to avoid him.
you arrived home late at night on one friday, a heavy sigh escaping your lips. chris is probably… working. so you you can easily sneak into your bedroom without him noticing you, right?
“y/n”
you turned around and saw him in the hallway, hair messed up and glass of water in his hand. his face lit up upon seeing you, however you could sense the weird tone of his voice.
“hi chris. i’ll go to sleep” you mumbled, taking off your shoes
“wait, can we talk? i know it’s late but i feel like nowadays we’re roommates, not a couple” he said. here it is. you let out another sigh
“i had a lot on my head today, can we not?” you grunted, leaving your bag on the floor.
“that’s the thing, y/n. there’s something going on and you just won’t tell me. and when we’re gonna talk when not now? you avoid me, let’s face it” chris continued, voicing out his worries. you knew.
“i’m sorry, okay? it’s just… i don’t want to talk right now and…” you pinched the bridge of your nose, earning a scoff from chan.
“you never want to talk, apparently. relationships are build on trust and communication. and i get the feeling you don’t trust me at all” his voice got a little louder but not to the range of shouting.
“listen, i–“ you started, genuine exhaustion feeling your body. you were afraid to snap and that’s the last thing you wanted to do. especially right now, especially at chris. but if it continues–
“i’m tired of your excuses, y/n! let me help you, talk to me, anything–“ chris pleaded and before you realised, it happened.
“can you shut the fuck up? i told you i’m tired! we’ll talk once you stop interrupting me for god’s sake!”
the realisation sank in as you watched chan’s features change with pain. his jaw tensed, eyes becoming cold.
“sure… i’m sorry. good night” he huffed, his steps leading him back to his studio.
your eyes watered, heart shattering into millions of pieces. you fucked up.
changing into your pyjamas you fell asleep on the couch, feeling like a burden in your own bed. your and chris’. and above all, you felt strange and empty, trying (and failing miserably) to fall asleep without him by your side.
┆彡 MINHO [ 민호 ]
you approached lino quietly, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind. he jolted a bit by your sudden appearance, the wooden spoon falling out of his hand.
“oh, sorry baby. how are you today?” you hummed when minho with a grumpy face grabbed the spoon.
“you’re so fucking clingy sometimes…” he grunted, causing your eyes to widen “get off me”
the coldness of his voice made you a bit scared, backing away. minho continued with his cooking task.
“like a literal baby, i swear. let me breathe for once, is this too much to ask for?” he snapped, not even looking at you.
you understood, of course you did. when you started dating minho he wasn’t too big on skinship but… he never spoke like that to you in general or about this.
“okay. i’m sorry” you mumbled, trying not to show how hurt you got by his words “i’ll be in the bedroom”
he didn’t even say anything. you held your tears and walked away, only letting them go once you were buried in your duvet.
┆彡 CHANGBIN [ 창빈 ]
you let out a deep sigh, massaging your temples. changbin was looking at you with straight face, the tense silence between you two constantly interrupted by your group chat exploding with notifications.
“y/n, for the millionth time. they don’t deserve you, they literally treat you like shit” he grunted, glancing at your phone and reading the last message “'y/nnie we’re sorry, the date just slipped my mind', are you kidding me? what kind of an excuse is that?”
the thing was that your friends stood you up, again. lately they do that all the time but you know that they’re busy, just like you.
“a normal one! do i have to remind you the times you forgot about our dates? or i did? we’re humans, we forget things. and they’re my friends, they wouldn’t stand me up! we already rescheduled for tomorrow” you hissed “stop talking shit about my friends!”
“i’m not!” changbin whined “it just pisses me off because they meet up without you! don’t tell me you don’t know that!”
“i don’t because they don’t do that! stop accusing them!” you yelled, surprised by yourself. changbin sighed, his tongue poking the side of his cheek
“fine. just don’t run crying to me when you get stood up again, probably tomorrow” he huffed, crossing his arms
“i won’t!” you grunted, grabbing your phone and walking away to your bedroom.
┆彡 HYUNJIN [ 현진 ]
your boyfriend came home, a loud slam of his bag hitting the floor lighting a red lamp in your head. there was no usual, cheerful “hi baby!” or “i’m home!” coming from him.
hyunjin stepped into the kitchen, ignoring you, and poured himself some water.
“hi hyune” you hummed, approaching him. he mumbled something incoherent back, eyes everywhere but on you. you sighed quietly, shaking your head “how was your day?”
“awful, i’m exhausted” he grunted, poking his cheek with his tongue
“i’m sorry to hear that… here’s some food, i grabbed it from work. let me just finish heating it up” you hummed, smiling softly “and later if you want we can watch a movie?”
“just… i need some time alone. i’m tired, y/n. i know you wouldn’t get it because i’m an idol, i dance and work for the whole day but i just need to rest, okay?” hyunjin grunted, making you halt.
“what do you mean i wouldn’t get it?” you frowned, turning your gaze at him
“you’re… well, you’re not an idol. can i just-?” he spat out, running out of patience.
“oh, so i can’t feel exhausted? i know that working as a cleaning lady is not as mighty as being an idol, but it’s tiring as well” you said slowly, trying not to lose your temper.
“yeah, sure” he scoffed.
your eyes widened, genuine hurt breaking your heart.
“i’ll eat it later, don’t mind heating it up” he grunted and before he waddled away to the bedroom, he heard your murmurs.
“it’s for me… and you don’t mind talking to a filthy cleaning lady later…”
┆彡 JISUNG [ 지성 ]
han was watching you for the past fifteen minutes, tongue poking the side of his cheek. you seemed to have fun while chatting with the other guy. way too much fun.
he just let out a sigh and took a sip of his drink. he hated it. he hated that he had to go to this party, that someone spilled a drink over him, that the food sucked and that you… you were ignoring him.
you let out a laugh and shook your head. the guy who you were talking to, beomgyu, patted your head with a grin.
suddenly you felt a hand on your arm, squeezing it. you turned around and saw jisung and his… tensed jaw.
“oh ji! i was wondering where you were! this is beomgyu, jeongin’s friend…” you smiled and beomgyu greeted your boyfriend with a happy smile
“we need to talk” han just grunted and walked away. you shrugged and beomgyu sent you a questioning look.
following jisung outside, where the weather wasn’t too pleasant, you rubbed your arms and enjoyed the silence.
“what’s up?” you asked, tilting your head.
“are you seriously asking me 'what’s up?'… y/n… you’ve been having the time of your life with that guy” he hissed, crossing his arms.
“beomgyu? what do you mean? we were just talking, that’s all” you scoffed, not fully understanding what he meant.
“please, y/n. you two were flirting! it’s unbelievable” he snarled, his voice raising dangerously.
“jisung, you know i only love you. i was just talking with him because he–“ you started
“cut the bullshit. it’s good to know you had fun at the party but i’m going home. have fun flirting with him” he bursted out, walking away
“jisung, what the fuck?!” you called but he didn’t stop “what do you want me to say? i… i seriously! you can ask him! i wasn’t saying anything–“
entering the room again filled his ears with music, jisung didn’t catch the way your voice broke down. legs leading him towards the exit, he noticed beomgyu watching him shocked.
┆彡 FELIX [ 필릭스 ]
you drummed your fingers on the table nervously, giving the waiter an apologetic look. he walked up to you, sighing.
“i’m sorry ma’am but if you’re not planning on ordering something i’ll have to ask you to leave…” he said. you nodded, grabbing your purse
“i understand” you said and paid for the two glasses of water you ordered earlier.
“i’m sorry” the waiter mumbled, causing blood to flow to your cheeks. you shook your head and left, dialling your boyfriend’s number for the seventh time this night.
“–yeah, i know, right?! what’s up, y/n?” felix answered, the voices in the background becoming quieter.
“where are you?” you asked bluntly, crossing your arms
“i’m at changbin’s, why?” he asked confused
“why? well maybe because i was waiting for you like an idiot for the past two hours? why didn’t you pick up your phone earlier?” you spat out, voice starting to shake
“what are you talking about?” felix grunted
“our date, felix! like the third one you missed because allegedly you were busy? are you doing this on purpose or what?” you huffed, sitting down on a nearby bench.
“i was busy, y/n! i admit, today i forgot but we made plans with guys earlier and i just…” he trailed off.
“you just forgot. again. i don’t have any more patience or strength for that, felix. don’t you see that? you’re prioritising work over me” your voice broke, nails digging into your knees “if it keeps happening–“
“y/n… don’t say that! you know i’m busy, i’m an idol! what did you expect?” felix scoffed.
“i expected my boyfriend to be present in my life, you know? i understand that you’re an idol, i respect that and i support it… i just wish you were there for me, felix. do you even know i got fired yesterday?” you asked and were met with silence “exactly. now… have fun at changbin’s, say hi to the boys. i’m not coming back tonight”
with that you hung up, chest thumping in your chest. well, you’re going to have a sleepover at your best friend’s… again.
┆彡 SEUNGMIN [ 승민 ]
you hummed happily, just getting off the phone with your mom. entering the kitchen you noticed seungmin with his glasses atop of his nose, reading something.
“hey, seungmo! do you have any plans on weekend?” you asked. he shook his head as a no “great! my parents are visiting, then”
he groaned, making you frown.
“what?” you asked, crossing your arms.
“again?” he finally looked up at you, fixing his glasses.
“what do you mean again? they visited us like, month ago!” you shook your head
“it’s just… tiring” he mumbled, playing with the hem of the paper he was reading
“tiring? they’re my parents, seungmin. and it’s hard for them too. they’re still getting used to living in korea, i know how that felt and besides, you should get used to it” you huffed
“okay, so? can’t you just go on your own? i wanted to practice, i could use some time alone” seungmin grunted. you bit your lip, looking down. did he just… did not like your parents? you couldn’t lie, it hurt you.
“fine. have fun then because i guess i’ll leave earlier, since you could use some time alone” you murmured
“are you angry at me?” he asked, some kind of mockery in his voice
“yeah, i am! do you not like them? why didn’t you tell me earlier?” the question made him scoff
“i just don’t feel like going, geez! just go, you’re being annoying today…” he grunted, reassuming his previous task.
you mumbled a soft oh and left your place right away, not bothering to pack. your parents have some clothes of yours at their place either way.
┆彡 JEONGIN [ 정인 ]
you watched jeongin text someone with a huge grin on his face, fingers quickly tapping against the screen of his phone. letting out a deep sigh, you reassumed watching the show.
“wait, why’d you start?” he asked suddenly, putting his phone away
“i asked you like, five times if i can start already” you grunted, not looking at him
“sorry, i was…” he hummed, hesitant “…texting someone”
“who was it?” you asked, not really caring about the weight of the question…
“no one important” he huffed. now, his answer made you confused. anxiety slowly creeping into your heart, you looked at him
“why’d you answer like that? i’m sure that person wouldn’t be too happy to hear that” you joked lightly. jeongin just shrugged, letting out an annoyed sigh. there was a sound of door opening somewhere in the dorm.
“can we just watch?” he asked coldly.
you fell quiet, mind racing with thoughts. if you think about it, you caught him texting and smiling like a teenage girl a couple of times this week. and he always quickly turned off his phone once you were near him. what was it?
“oh, hi you two!” you heard changbin’s voice. you turned around to wave at him and he waved back, then turning your eyes again at the screen “oi, jeongin-ah, did eunjeong text you back?”
your eyes widened upon hearing the name. eunjeong. jeongin’s ex.
you looked at him, his face immediately dropping. you sent a death glare to changbin that only now realised what he said. but that meant… he knew.
“you’re texting her? your ex?” you asked, crossing your arms. jeongin sighed, trying his best not to roll his eyes.
“and what if i am, geez! it’s not that serious, y/n” he grunted, looking at you.
“for me it is, jeongin. you know i have trust issues… and i don’t trust her, especially! besides, you told me you blocked her…?” you asked, heart racing abnormally fast.
“i lied, okay? because you’re so sensitive about everything, just like now! yes, i’m texting eunjeong and honestly, i don’t regret it! she’s fun, okay? we broke up on a good terms” he grunted. you stood up, walking away “where are you going?!”
“i need to think” you hissed, passing changbin by
“that’s exactly what i was talking about… god, such a crybaby over nothing” jeongin murmured, grabbing his phone.
before he could open up a chat with eunjeong, he heard a loud door slam.
masterlist <3
taglist. @primoppang ,, @l3visbby ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @slytherinshua ,, @kazmura ,, @nicholasluvbot ,, @ameliesaysshoo ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @dazzlingligth ,, @litepowee ,, @ocean-minho ,, @lessthanpast ,, @s-e-s-a-I-e-n-e ,, @fire-08 ,, @eternalgyu ,, @haecien
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cupidddd-d · 3 months
Text
oh heart, and then it falls
in which theodore nott is actually nice to you?
gn reader but it's mentioned that they wear lip gloss !!
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"ow, fuck!" you cried out as your potion bubbled over the edge of the cauldron, oozing onto your hand. tears of pain sprung to your eyes, and you could already feel the burns forming underneath the thick sludge sitting on your skin.
"nott, you were supposed to be watching the potion while i wrote notes!" embarrassingly, your voice broke, and you could feel a tear dripping down your face. your notes were ruined, your hand was burnt, you were crying in front of the boy who was most likely to make fun of you for it, and your potion was completely unsalvageable. you may have been hallucinating, but you could have sworn that you could smell burnt flesh.
"huh?" theodore's head jolted up from his conversation with draco. his eyes glanced from your hand to your face, and then back down again. "merlin...we've got to get you to the hospital wing..."
you walked in silence as he led you out of the hospital wing, staring down at where he was applying bandages to your hand. he had poured a numbing potion over the wound, but memories of your previous pain echoed around your body.
"why are you doing this, nott?" your mouth was dry as you stared down at his gentle movements. what happened to the boy who practically fed off of your despair?
"i mean...i'm not a total monster. i don't like you, but it's not like i want you to be hurt." he let out a little scoff, his eyes darting to the side.
"could've fooled me," you rolled your eyes. "remember that time when you pushed my head into the cake on my birthday?" a little smirk was starting to cross your lips.
"that was 9 years ago, and i apologized!" he protested, a matching grin growing on his face.
"only after your mother forced you to," you retorted, rolling your eyes.
"at least i still apologized, right?" he shrugged, giving you a charming, well-practiced smile.
"shame, i still don't accept your apology," you mused.
the two of you sat in silence for a moment, letting him fully concentrate on fixing your hand.
"why are you doing this, nott?" you asked again, the question still weighing on your mind. for some reason, his previous answer didn't feel like the full truth. your eyes bore into his, your gaze so beseeching that it makes him divert his attention back to your bandaged hands.
"you know why." he said simply. quietly. his eyes were dark as they flit back to yours.
you inhaled sharply. if he was saying what you think he's saying... "no, i don't." your voice came out trembly and embarrassingly weak, and you kicked yourself mentally.
"i don't really have to spell it out for you, do i?" he was moving closer and closer. "stop me if you don't want this--and you should probably do it now, because i've waited so long for this moment, i think this might be your only opportunity."
his breath was fanning your lips now, his gaze stuck on your parted lips. you leaned in, and that was all it took for him to dive into you. his lips seared into yours, the kiss fervent. his hands were everywhere, cupping your jaw, pulling your waist to bring you closer to him, wrapping in your hair.
your eyes were wide as he pulled back, a smug smirk on his face as he licked his lips. "what is that, cherry flavored lip gloss?"
"nott-" you managed to stutter out.
"come on, darling. after what we just did, i'd expect us to be past the last-name basis." he snickered, leaning down to capture your lips with his once again.
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mostlymarvelsstuff · 4 months
Text
Reader receives Nats nudes accidentally
Authors note: Just in case you didn't see, you can now buy me a coffee/commission something. See this post for more info 🥰
Authors note 2.0: trying out a new thing with a drabble series
Word count: 803
Marvel Masterlist Natasha Masterlist How They React To Masterlist
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   A while ago, Tony had been feeling generous and had offered to update everyone's personal computers. And Nat was definitely in need of an upgrade, she was still using the old laptop she was first given when she joined SHIELD years ago. It still ran, which she was grateful for, but it did lack speed and some other niceties. So she took him up on said offer.
   Which is why she now finds herself sitting at her desk with two laptops in front of her while she transfers over her multitude of files and data. It's a bit of a tedious task to go back through everything and find out what is actually worth keeping, what's important and what can be trashed before she hands it back over to Hill, but in the end it’ll be worth it. 
   She's just finishing up now, sending over the last few miscellaneous things. But what she hadn’t realized was that she had not selected her new computer as a transfer location this time, but had selected your computer. Likely unnoticed because she had forgotten about even connecting her laptop to yours during your last mission, and because her eyesight was beginning to get strained after so many hours of sitting here. Regardless, off they went, and she was none the wiser
   Meanwhile you're just returning to your desk from a much needed break when you see the file transfer notification light up. This confuses you, as you hadn’t asked anyone to send anything over, nor had anyone told you to expect anything. But since you apparently have some more things to attend to, you sit back down and open the file. This proves to be of little help however, because nothing is labeled. All you know is that it contains several documents and one picture. 
   You decide to open the picture first, as it would hopefully not require reading. It's clearly been taken in a dimly lit room so it takes a second for your eyes to adjust to the darkened screen to discern anything, but soon enough you're greeted with the side profile of a naked woman. This confuses you even more, but you find yourself unable to tear your eyes away. And that's how you spot it, a small scar to the left of the belly button
   “Oh my god!” you exclaim as you register who you're seeing, and you quickly close the tab
   Your hands start sweating as you wrack your brain for a rational explanation. You knew Nat was a playful flirt, the two of you did so all the time. But to send an explicit picture, unprompted, and by file transfer at that, just didn’t make sense. That's when you remembered the other contents of the file, and you quickly skim through them to see if they would be of any help piecing things together. When you discover that they are just after mission reports and weapons specs your hunch of it being unintentional is confirmed. Now, you just had to figure out what to do about it
   A few minutes later, you're standing outside the redhead's door as anxiety bubbles inside you. But you fight through it and knock. 
   “Come in!”
   She's turned enough in her desk chair to see who's entering and a wide smile spreads across her face as she registers that it's you. You feel guilty now, because you have a feeling your demeanor and what you have to say will cause that smile to falter, but you need to do this. Afterall, you’d want someone to be forthcoming if they received something like this of you.
   “Uh, hi Nat” 
   She notices your nervousness, but sets aside the observation for now “Hey Y/n, what's up?”
    “I think you accidentally sent me a few of your things during that last file transfer”
   “Oh, shit. Sorry about that, I’ve been at this for a few hours now and I guess I hit yours by mistake” she explains, “I didn’t even realize we were still connected”
   “Neither had I. But Nat, there was a picture of you among the documents”
   “Yeah? I hope it was a good one at least” she jokes, not realizing what you were trying to say. You're silent for a moment too long however, because she fully turns her chair to look at you, with her brows furrowed with worry, “Y/n, what's wrong with the picture?”
   “Nothings wrong with it!” you reply, a little too enthusiastically when you think about what's yet to come, “It's just that, well…. You're naked”
   Her face turns a shade of pink you’d never seen before, and her head swims with insecurities and nervousness. But she manages to bring out an air of confidence and gives you a sultry smirk
  “So, answer the question. Was it a good picture?”
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sunflower-lilac42 · 4 months
Text
✧ 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐈𝐧 𝐍𝐞𝐞𝐝, 𝐈'𝐦 𝐀𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 | luke hughes (feat. quinn + jack) ♔
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summary: the relationship between the hughes brothers is special, but the bond between quinn, jack, and luke’s girlfriend is something else or four times quinn and jack were there for luke's girlfriend when she couldn’t tell luke or luke wasn’t availble
warnings: finals (physics), stress, crying, mean comments, threats, fighting, car breaking down/running out of grass, being followed, angsty + fluffy, asshole luke
notes: happy almost (or now) new year everyone! i still have three hours (central time different fr). for the finals one you can pick whatever you want but i suck at physics so i put that but you can put math or something related to your own major if you want, also I gave you a 4.0 bc i can and it made sense for this. I tried to do as much with quinn and jack but my luke side was coming out a lot in the second and last one.
nhl masterlist | main masterlist
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The One with the Finals | Quinn ~ Winter of 2023
The day before her physics final, y/n was in tears. There were papers not only all over her desk but on the walls and the ground as well. The whiteboard that hung in her apartment was littered with kinematics equations and a bunch of random vocabulary words that probably weren’t necessary for her final. 
More tears sprung in her eyes as she looked at her review guide, “Who the fuck knows this shit?”
Her roommates had already gone home, finishing their finals the day before so she was alone. It was almost 7 and she had been studying for six hours, maybe more. She knew she should stop and take a break, make some dinner, maybe even watch a movie, but she couldn’t, not now, not when her grade was on the line. 
She was so close, oh so close to being done but the last question was too much for her. It sent her brain into overdrive, the wires were crossed, and nothing made sense anymore, not that it ever did anyway. She let out a noise, a cross between a groan and a whine, and threw her notes down and her pencil across the room. 
She took a peak at her phone and noticed the mass amount of messages from her boyfriend, a few from her parents, and a few from Luke’s family. The boy was so worried that he made his parents and Quinn and Jack text her just to see if she would answer, but she didn’t.
Now, no offense to Jack (but offense) and no offense to Luke, but they weren’t always the brightest of the bunch. Which is why she called Quinn, tears still obviously present.
“I’m going to fail.”
“Y/n? Luke’s been calling you for hours.”
“Yes, I know. I was studying for physics, and I’ve concluded that I’m going to fail.”
Quinn sat up from where he was lying on his bed, “No, you’re not.”
She let out a sob, “I am and then I’m going to get kicked out of school and everyone’s going to make fun of me and then Luke won’t want to date me anymore and then you guys will stop talking to me-”
“Hey! Calm down, none of that is going to happen because it’s not possible, y/n/n. What’s your GPA right now?”
“A 4.0.”
Quinn laughed, “Stop being so hard on yourself. You’re fine. I promise you, but if you feel that badly about it, I’ll help you study.”
“Really?”
“No, I’m fucking with you. Of course, I’ll help you. You’re my favorite sibling after all.”
“I’m not even related to you.”
“Yet.”
Y/n sent the PDF of the review guide to Quinn, who now sat at his desk on his computer. The two talked and studied with one another before Quinn realized the lack of color in the girl’s face, “Have you eaten yet?”
Y/n looked at him and then quickly looked down shamefully, “No.”
Quinn looked like he was going to yell at her but in reality, he was just worried, and the tiniest bit frustrated with her for not taking care of herself, not that he would ever tell her that though, “Go make dinner, you can bring me with if you want. I’ll even make my own.”
“But-”
“No, you’ll think better if you eat.” That could’ve been a total lie, but she would’ve listened to him anyway.
She took her phone and computer with her, still talking to Quinn as she made some ramen - the good kind, not the crappy instant one. Quinn smiled, happy with himself for making his brother’s girlfriend - or if he had it his and Jack’s way, his sister -  take care of herself and feel better.
༶•┈┈⛧┈♛
She had just gotten done with her final and she screamed internally, walking out of the room and heading to her dorm, waiting for her family to pick her up. She called Quinn immediately after she stepped out of the building. 
“Quinn! Quinn! Quinn! Guess what?!”
Quinn had been on his way to practice when he got the phone call, “What?”
“I passed!”
Quinn smiled, “See I told you, you would.”
“Thank you!"
✧༺✎༻∞
The One with the Haters | Jack ~ Fall of 2023
It never really bothered her, and Luke always said it shouldn’t. Yet, when Luke started his rookie year and gained more attraction, so did she. They were worse than what they were before, they came in mass amounts, the words dug deeper, and everything seemed to escalated. 
This wasn’t something that should’ve burdened Luke, he had enough to deal with it being his rookie season and trying to perform as well as he could, he didn’t need to hear about his fans attacking his girlfriend as well. Luke was, let’s just say, the most oblivious of them all. So she didn’t really have to worry about him finding out about it, anyway.
However, Jack knew about her mood changes. Every time she visited the two in New Jersey, she distanced herself from them, she took notice of who was around them when they went out and strategically sat next to Luke so people wouldn’t make accusations of her favoring Jack over him but not too close to him that it would seem like she’s attached and overbearing him.
He also took notice of the comments on his brother’s Instagram posts or whenever the wags would post y/n at a game. 
‘He’s too good for her.’
‘Why does she even come? It’s obvious he doesn’t want her there, he doesn’t even play well when she’s there.’
‘She’s just using him.’
‘7 don’t know what he sees in her.’
‘She’s not that pretty.’
Those barely scratched the surface of the comments. There were more, most about her looks and another good chunk of them just saying how the two didn’t make sense together. But the ones that hurt the worst, were the ones that came up once or twice in every ten posts. The ones that were about her using him, the ones that made threats to her and her family. The ones claiming that they knew everything about her life. The ones that said she was cheating on Luke with Jack or Quinn.
Jack had his fair share of hate comments, many of which he remembered from his rookie season. He knew how it felt to have someone close to him be praised so much and then be torn down for simply having a relationship with them and not being as good. 
The Devils were visiting Detroit near the late end of November and y/n decided to go to the game, hanging out with them the two days that they flew down early to be with her before the game. They were out at a restaurant and y/n was sitting in the very corner of the booth that they got.
Luke sat down next to her as Jack slid into the other side of the booth, still bantering with his brother. Luke was oblivious to the distance between him and y/n, shrugging it off as if she was just hot. Luke and Jack continued to talk about the game, stopping for the waiter to take their order who just so happened to be a fan of the Devils. Y/n rolled her eyes as she subtly flittered with her boyfriend, giving Jack a look. 
The waiter walked away and Luke got up and left to the bathroom, “So when are you going to tell him? Or are you waiting for him to figure it out by himself?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Y/n dug her face into the menu, avoiding eye contact with Jack.
“Uh huh, sure. Then what are these?” Jack showed the girl his phone, comments from Luke’s most recent post showing. 
“Jack.”
“Y/n.”
“There’s not much he can do about it anyways, they’ll keep doing it no matter what. Besides, they’re not wrong.”
“He has a right to know and no, nothing they say is true. You are Luke’s world and he will defend you until he dies. If someone is threatening you, which there is, he will find a way to stop it. And Quinn and I will help too. We want you safe.” Jack reached over the table to pat her shoulder. 
She nodded, “Just talk to him. Okay?”
༶•┈┈⛧┈♛
Later that night, Luke was in bed with y/n, both of them on their phones. Luke was playing a game and y/n was on Instagram. She hadn’t actively searched out the comments but when she saw a post of her with 200 comments under it, she had to look, and they weren’t all that different from what she was expecting. 
“Luke?”
“Hmm?”
“Can I talk to you about something?”
“Of course, what’s up?”
“Have you seen the comments?”
“What comments?”
“These.” She handed Luke her phone and watched as he scrolled through them, and before he could say anything, she took it back and showed him her DM’s. 
“Why didn’t you tell me earlier? We could’ve done something to stop this.” She just shrugged.
“Sweetheart, this is scary. I don’t you to have to endure this by yourself, nonetheless.”
“It’s fine, I’m fine.”
“But you’re not. I know everyone thinks I’m oblivious, and yes, sometimes I am, but I can see you’re hurting and you have been for a while. I might not have known why or how but I was so worried about you, okay? I’m going to do everything I can to stop this.”
Luke placed his hands on her face and she wrapped her hands around his wrists. His thumbs lightly rubbed over her face, just under her eye, as hers rubbed up and down his hands, stopping at his knuckles to rub over them as well. She smiled slightly at him but was still worried about everything that was going on. 
“Hey,” Luke made her look up at him. “Everything is going to work out, no matter how long or how much it’s gonna take. I’m going to get Quinn and Jack to help, I’ll have the team help as well. We’re all going to help to make sure you and your family are safe. I promise.”
She nods, “Okay.”
He kissed her forehead before her lips and pulled back to smile at her. 
✧༺✎༻∞
The One with the Car | Quinn + Jack ~ Summer of 2023
Despite dating for three years, y/n was never really the biggest fan of letting Luke help her, she wasn’t the biggest fan of anyone helping her, to be honest. That’s why when she was in the middle of nowhere, scared out of her mind and not thinking straight, she hesitated to call her boyfriend. 
It was the summer, she had been visiting the Hughes family at the lake house and she had gone to get some food for dinner for her, Quinn, and Jack. She wasn’t lost per se, when she left she knew how to get back home, she had been there countless times before. Yet, she felt as if she was being followed and that scared her, causing her to go a different route home, one she wasn’t that familiar with, and even then she sort of knew where she was. 
The car was still following her so she decided to start taking random turns here and there and when she did the trick she was taught, take four right turns, they left after the first one. She let out a deep breath and continued to drive, just to see if they would pop up again, but they didn’t and now she was in the middle of nowhere, with an almost empty tank of gas. 
Back at the lake house, Quinn, and Jack sat in the living room. Ellen, Jim, and Luke decided to go out for dinner to a fancy restaurant, and the whole nine yards, the other three weren’t bothered to even move from their seats. In hindsight, should they have just gotten Uber Eats or DoorDash, yes, but y/n wanted to get out of the house, just to a certain extent.
She didn’t want to interrupt her boyfriend’s time with his parents so she called Quinn, voice wavering, “Quinn.”
“Hey, y/n. Where are you? We thought you would be back by now.”
“About that. I’m sort of in the middle of nowhere and there was this car that was following but they stopped but I also don’t know if they just left and are coming back because they knew I was onto them-”
“Hey, calm down. Send me your location, Jack and I are on our way. Keep us on the phone and if you see them come back just start driving.”
“I’m almost out of gas.”
“We’ll hurry, just keep a lookout, okay?”
Five minutes passed and the boys were almost already halfway there, speeding the whole way as much as possible. She looked up and in the rearview mirror, there were headlights, “Guys? Is that you?”
Jack and Quinn looked at each other in confusion, “No?”
“Well, shit.” Y/n turned her car on and immediately pressed on the gas.
The car didn’t follow her, simply turned on the street behind where her car had been, but she didn’t know that, so she kept driving until her car was out of gas, “I’m out of gas.”
“We’re almost there, you should see us, right… about… now.” She looked up and saw them, easily recognizing the car. She got out of the car and practically ran to them. 
Quinn hugged her back when her arms wrapped around him, “Are you okay? Are you hurt? Did anyone follow you?”
She shook her head, “I’m fine, just still a little spooked.”
Jack stood off to the side and only now had y/n just noticed, “Hi Jack.” She looked at him tentatively. Contrary to her belief, Jack loved hugs, especially y/n’s hugs. She always thought differently, so she always hesitated to hug him. 
Yet, when he opened his arms, she ran into them just as she did with his older brother, “Thank you for coming to get me.”
“Always.”
✧༺✎༻∞
The One with the Fight | Quinn + Jack - April of 2023
“I just don’t understand, Luke.”
“Of course, you don’t you never do!”
They had been arguing on and off all day, everything the other person did set them off, it was hours of pointless and petty arguing. Realistically, they both had been in the wrong, but Luke screwed up the most. It was when they both found out that he would be going to Jersey. 
She had scheduled plans with friends earlier that week, but she would’ve dropped everything to hang out with Luke and help him pack. She offered to do that but Luke declined, saying he could handle it and he wanted her to go out and have fun with her friends. Truthfully, they had been spending almost every waking moment together since they knew.
“You were to one that told me to go hang out with them! I offered to help you and stay with you, but you declined!”
“I never said that.”
Y/n gave him a look that said all the different, “You’re such a fucking liar.”
“Oh, I’m the liar?”
“Yes!” 
“If you loved me, you would’ve stayed back, anyways. And you know what? I’m done with this conversation. Don’t wait up.” Luke took his duffle bag and suitcase and left y/n’s dorm. 
She stared at the door as it slammed practically in her face. The silence was deafening in the room, you could hear the barking of dogs and horns blaring from outside. If you listened hard enough you could hear the wind slapping against the window. 
For two minutes she stood there, staring at the door, body still and her hair blowing from the AC. She snapped out of her trance when she felt a lone tear roll down her face. Since then, it was one after another and she ran to grab her phone from her nightstand dialing Jack’s number.
Jack answered confused, “Hello?”
“I think Luke might be on his way to Jersey.”
“But he’s not supposed to leave yet.”
“We got into a fight and he sort of-” She choked on a sob, “stormed out of here with his duffle and suitcase.”
“What do you mean you guys got into a fight? You guys never fight.”
“Yeah well ‘never’ is a fucking stupid word. And this is totally not the point of this phone call, Jack. Can you just make sure he’s okay? I don’t want him getting hurt or anything.”
“Luke’s a big boy and if he decided to come here on a whim then he can handle it. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” Tears still were streaming down her face and she picked at her nails as she slid down the wall, landing on the floor. 
“What happened, y/n/n?”
“It was stupid, it was my fault.”
“You’re lying.”
“How would you know?”
“You’re voice is more intense when you lie because you try to convince everyone you’re right by sounding more confident.”
“So why do you know that and not Luke?” She balled to the older boy, placing her head in her hands, the phone dropping from her grasp.
“Y/n? Y/n!” Jack tried to gain her attention but failed, causing him to add Quinn to the call.
“Jack? Y/n? What’s up?”
“Y/n answer us.”
“What’s going on?”
“Y/n! Come on, please answer.”
“I’m sorry, I dropped my phone.”
“Can someone please explain to me what is going on? And where is Luke?”
“Luke fucked up is what’s going on,” Jack said, annoyed.
Y/n now sat against her bed and her phone propped up on the wall, switching to face time, “We got into a fight.”
“You guys never fight.”
“Yes, I’m aware, now can we move on from that fact because it happened and it’s over with.”
“Sorry, sorry.”
“He was mad because he’s supposed to be leaving soon and I went out with my friends after I had already offered to stay back and help him pack and everything like that but he said no. So, he’s right, it is my fault. If I loved him, I would’ve stayed.”
The was a simletanous silence from the boys before a loud, “He said that?!”
“Yeah? Why? Is he right? I knew he was right.”
“No, no, no of course not. He’s not right. He’s a fucking dick for saying that.”
“But I should’ve stayed with him, he’s leaving soon.” She sniffled, wiping her nose with her sleeve.
“Y/n/n, listen to me right now. Nothing you did tonight was your fault. Maybe something that we don’t know that happened you did, but what he said… you didn’t deserve that. He knows how much you love him and if he stooped that low to make you feel bad, then maybe he should take some time to cool off. I’m not saying that he should’ve left the way he did, but maybe some space is good.” Quinn explained to her.
She nodded but tears were still falling, “Do you think he’s going to break up with me? I mean, he’s going to go off and be in the NHL and I’m just going to be me. I’m nothing special.”
Jack and Quinn made eye contact through the phone and Jack went to say something but was interrupted, “You’re everything to me.” 
She snapped her head to the door and saw Luke standing there, his bag falling to the ground. She stood up quickly, wiping her face rid of any signs of her crying, “Luke.”
“How could you say that about yourself?”
Quinn and Jack hung up the phone, not wanting to interrupt their conversation despite them wanting to be there just in case he said something out of line. Luke wrapped his arms around the girl, “You are the most amazing person ever. I’m so sorry if I made you feel any differently.”
Y/n just shrugged, not bothered by that but more so the fight itself. Luke pulled back, saddened slightly by the lack of reciprocation in the affection, “And I am so sorry for what I said. I know you love me and I know I said you could hang out with your friends. I think just deep down I thought you would’ve stayed anyways and I was scared of leaving you.”
Y/n nodded and Luke’s hands went to her cheeks, wiping off the remnants of her mascara, “I understand, Luke. I just wish you would’ve handled it more like an adult than a teenager.”
“And I can’t even begin to explain how horrible I feel about that.”
“Can we just cuddle?”
“Anything you want.”
The two laid in better for a little while as they hadn’t wanted to do anything else. An hour later, y/n spoke, “I forgive you.”
“You shouldn’t.”
“But I do. Emotions were high and I know that shouldn’t be the way we should handle things but we’re both stressed and you’re leaving soon I just want to forget about it.” Luke nodded, wanting to respect her wishes, “I love you, Lukey.”
“I love you.”
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