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#stop being a ding dong
messengerhermes · 5 months
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Hey, uh, I don't know how to say this, but being sober does not say anything about your morals. Your relationships to substances aren't indicators of whether or not: you are a good or bad person you are a strong or a weak person you are a intelligent or unintelligent you are a kind or cruel person That goes for all substances. I've been someone who was sober most of my life thanks to a family history of addiction that left me with a lot of wariness about trying substances. What I learned is that a lot of people who are sober, especially those who have never tried substances or never experienced addiction, view themselves as superior to people who use substances. You are not. You are just someone making a different life choice. A life choice that is probably supported by having better access to healthcare and other social support systems, and by the luck of having other ways to deal with whatever stressors or chronic conditions you may have. That isn't being a better person, that's having a different life. Now, I'm a casual stoner and I've noticed something else in the space of people who use substances: A ranking system of whose drug of choice is superior. And the answer is: Nobody's. There is not a moral superiority attached to any one particular substance. Every substance comes with risk in terms of usage. Social risks, physical risks, legal risks. You picking a substance that you deem "less risky" does not make you a better person, a smarter person, or somehow a "good" drug user. I'm not somehow wiser because I prefer weed to alcohol. That is literally just a choice of personal preference because liquor gives me an immediate migraine and tastes terrible to me, and weed makes everything hilarious and obliterates the chronic pain that chills in my body 24/7. Me preferring weed does not make me superior to someone who uses heroine, or ketamine, or MDMA, or shrooms or the whole host of drugs that I've probably never even heard of. I am not more deserving of safe access to my drug of choice than someone who likes cocaine, just because my drug is viewed as less harmful or "hard." The substances you use are not moral choices. They are preferential ones. Yes, even if you are using those substances to process trauma, cope with chronic pain, or in some other "medicinal" fashion. Do you think intravenous drug users aren't using heroine to cope with their pain and trauma? Do you really think you're not enjoying the psychedelic experience you get from your "sacred teacher" psilocybin? That it is purely an intellectual experience? Look. Creating a world where people are less likely to suffer with addictions starts with us getting rid of the idea that using any substances in the first place is a moral weakness that must be stopped at all cost. If we want to address the ways addiction causes harm in communities, then maybe we should fix the shit that leads to people having no other outlet for relief other than drugs. Because the harm isn't caused by substance use in and of itself, the harm is caused by substance use being done out of desperation, carried out in shameful silence because of stigma around drugs. Substance use is not immoral. Everyone deserves the agency to choose how they want to engage with substances. Everyone deserves access to safe, reliable supplies to use drugs. Everyone deserves access to support systems that make substance use one option out of many when it comes to coping with hard shit, instead of being put into hard positions where drugs become the one respite they have from stress, pain, and overwhelm. Substance users should not be punished, criminalized, or forced to quit before they are given community support and help to have stable lives.
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jlf23tumble · 2 years
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i agree with everything you’ve said about louis’ career! his fans really should really start listening to what he says fr. i’ve seen some people bring up the fact that louis said in a recent he would like if fitf was “commercially successful” but i’d love for people to understand that commercial success doesn’t necessarily mean breaking streaming records and staying 234 weeks as no1. louis is very successful and he’ll probably only continue to grow as an artist but maybe “growth” doesn’t means/look the same to you (frustrated fans) as it does do him. he’s doing fine! great, even! he’s clearly happy and satisfied with where’s he at in his career atm so why shouldn’t we be as well? also, since you’ve mentioned harry, i think this equation gets even trickier and more nuanced when you add larry to the mix bc, if you believe they’re together, you have to acknowledge that there’s absolutely no way they could maintain a complicated closeted relationship between two harry-styles-sized artists. so louis not wanting to be as “mainstream” as harry is a positive thing when it comes to that imo!
Yeah, I think Louis said it best when he said he wants to just keep touring, the rest doesn't really matter, and I'll just project my reasons: for one, instant gratification, and for two, hella cash money, like, the MOST cash money, especially in the streaming age. He's the no. 1 decider of what he wants to do with his own life, plus he has a shit ton of money and a lot more inside information into what he actually wants and the actual resources he has at his disposal. Why would anyone else fucking worry about any of that lmao
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xieyaohuan · 1 year
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youtube
Jiang Zemin 1926-2022
The guy who won the award for "most often killed by Twitter" is finally dead for real
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fuck-i-burnt-the-tea · 5 months
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𝑨𝒏 𝑯𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝑻𝒐 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑻𝒉𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒆 - 𝑪𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒖𝒔 𝑺𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒙 𝒇! 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓
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Scenario: You're the pretty little wife of President Coriolanus Snow, but he needs an heir to his legacy, someone to pass the Snow name down to. After all, his children will rule the great nation of Panem one day.
Warnings: Snow is his own warning tbh, P in V sex, unprotected sex (wear a condom ya ding dongs), creampie, Snow shoving his cum back in with his fingers, breeding, lowkey possessive Snow, he's kinda down bad for you but that doesn't stop him from being mean to you, dom/sub undertones, dom! Snow, sub! reader
A/N: He's so toxic but I'm so down bad for him 😞😞 anyways likes n reblogs are highly appreciated!! 🫶
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"That's it, fucking take it" He grunted as he thrust into you. You were laid down on the bed, with him on top of you, your legs wrapped securely around his waist to keep him here (as if he would even dare pull out). You were moaning with each of his thrusts, his fat cock feeling like it was splitting you open in the best way possible.
He attached his lips to your neck, sucking lightly, marking you as his property. "Mhm, just like that, gonna fill up this tight cunt with my cum, gonna get you pregnant" He mumbled out, pussydrunk on the way you were fucking clenching around him, like you were made for him.
He just kept sliding in and out of you, his hips smacking against yours, the scent of sex and the sound of skin slapping together filing the room. "Feels so good, Coryo, don't stop! Please don't stop!" You cried out as his cock slammedd against your g-spot, your gummy walls stretching around his length.
"Not gonna stop, not until I've fucked a baby into you, love" He rasped, his orgasm approaching, and he could tell yours was approaching as well. "You're getting close, hm? It's okay, let it all out baby. Scream my name if you need to" He chuckled, nipping at the skin right beneath your earlobe.
With a loud moan, you came hard around his cock, whimpering all sorts of nonsense as his rhythm didn't relent, going just as hard and as fast as before as he desperately chased his high. "Coyro, fuck.. 's too much" You whined as the overstimulation started to hit you, but he wasn't fucking done with you.
He pulled his face out from your neck, gently brushing your sweat soaked hair off your forehead, "So close, pet, just a little longer. You can handle it, be a good girl for me" He whispered, his cock throbbing inside you, desperate begging for release.
With one final powerful thrust, he emptied his seed into your womb, his rhythm slowing as he kept his cock inside you, acting almost like a plug to keep his cum inside you. "Fuck.. there we go, see?" He placed a soft kiss against your temple, before slowly pulling out. However, he soon replaced that emptiness with two of his fingers.
You panted heavily as you tried to regain your breath. But you were his little pet, and he needed to take care of you. With his free hand, he brushed his fingers through your hair, whispering "How are you feeling?" softly.
"Just gonna keep my fingers in there for a bit, doll, it's okay" He cooed in your ear. You could feel his warm cum inside you, your legs still trembling slightly from your intense orgasm. "'m okay" you weakly answered, melting into his touch as you both laid there, basking in that post-orgasm glow.
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☆ like what you've read? masterlist
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riizebabie444 · 5 months
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𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚 (18+ reading) 💋
ʚɞ ─── hello and welcome to my reading which will tell you how your first time will be. this is an 18+ reading so please only read if you are over the age of 18.
ʚɞ ─── this is specifically for those who have not had any sexual encounters yet (aka the virgins <3) but this reading is open to any interpretation, such as your first time with your future spouse. but please keep in mind who this pac is meant for as it may not resonate otherwise.
ʚɞ ─── be sure to check out my other readings and don’t forget to share and give feedback. disclaimer: all readings done are for entertainment only. please do not use my tarot readings as a replacement for legitimate advice.
ʚɞ ─── picking your pile: take a deep breath and allow your soul to centre itself. when you feel your mind balanced and cleared, allow yourself to be drawn to an image. your eyes may gravitate to one, or you may close your eyes and feel which image is calling out.
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ʚɞ ─── masterlist. paid readings. exchange rules.
donations. games/events. feedback.
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𝙥𝙞𝙡𝙚 𝙤𝙣𝙚 💋
cards drawn: the moon, the stars, king of wands, five of wands
i definitely see this being really sweet and dreamy. i am certain this will take place at night when the moon and the stars will be out. it might happen after a romantic night of stargazing and for a small number of you, it could actually be done out in the open under the night sky. for the persons reading this, i get the feminine energy from you and your partner will be the masculine (but please switch if you feel the need to) and it really feels like this masculine will take good care of you.
the way he is treating you, caring for you, attending to every detail, it will make you feel so relaxed and almost force you into a strong feminine energy. you will feel so soft and gentle and relaxed, ready to take in all of the care and affection. i see some of you may have been going through a difficult time, or have not been used to receiving this kind of attention. so it will be a new feeling for you, almost a shock to the system but you will embrace it well.
i also see for some that you may not go all the way but it will be your first time doing anything sexual. your person will surprise you by not letting you lift a finger. say if he eats you out or fingers you and you want to repay him after you've come to your senses again, he won't allow it (in a good way). he would rather you take a nap or snuggle up and watch a movie because he knows this first for you is so precious. it could also be that he pushed your limits a little bit, or maybe from reading your reactions he thinks you came really hard and he understands how tiring it can be for your first time. so he wants you to rest.
i definitely see oral. your person will go down on you. for those who will go all the way, oral as foreplay but i also see the mistake of going straight in. and it might be difficult getting it in for the first time if you get my drift. it might feel a little frustrating and anxiety-inducing, even painful when it's going inside of you. and i think at this point you will take the lead and be vocal about the things you are feeling so that you can both work together to make it as painless as possible. oh i think for pile one, if your person is a guy, it is possible he will have a big ding-dong and that is why it is more tricky and painful than you expected. but still, he is so respectful and attentive making it the best possible experience for you.
i honestly see pile one that you may even finish early or stop because of discomfort, for those who intended to go all the way. a number of you may have a really good time and finish perfectly. but i see clearly that it won't end up going all the way. you might stop because of the pain and decide to try again another time (it will be soon tho. like anywhere from the next day to the next week. i don't think any later than a week after). more than anything, it will be a learning experience and you will both spend the time between the attempts to figure out how to make it work more positively.
but the thing is, even if you finish early, it won't be a bad thing. you or they might feel a bit insecure about not being able to fulfil expectations but at the same time, this didn't happen without an emotional connection between the two of you so you understand and respect the decision, and cuddle with each other, either continue with foreplay or go straight to aftercare, take a bubble bath and possible even discuss the situation and how to handle it better. and i see you guys being confident again after you have discussed it. and if you don't go all the way, i see them trying harder and more often to make you feel good in other ways, like with oral, to satisfy you without having sex. this feels like a good pile, pile ones. even if there are mishaps, it will still end really well.
𝙥𝙞𝙡𝙚 𝙩𝙬𝙤 💋
cards drawn: king of cups, ace of wands, death, the world
oh definitely the creation of a strong bond here, deepening something that was already there or possibly awakening the deep connection. i see you and your person being so patient with each other. you will get an emotional rise out of this, possibly more than the physical. i'm going to sound so crude saying this but i can't think of a better way to say this but with the ace of wands, it is literally a glowing hand wrapped around a stick...well, whoever has the stick will think the one working on it is doing some sort of magic with their hand. it feels so unreal to them, or it could be you. i'm certain for most that your first time will be hand stuff or will start that way. and could possibly move onto oral but i don't see that for all of you.
okay i'm thinking you guys who chose pile two are the one with the magic hand. it looks like your first time doing anything sexual, but you will make the first move. if this doesn't sound like you, i understand. but i also believe you will be so excited and surprise yourself with how motivated you are to do it. you were thinking about it for a long time and your person couldn't say no. i see for some of you it could be a "kinky lesson" kind of thing, where the person is teaching you how to do it. even showing you with their own hands. if your person is a woman, i see them using their hands to spread their flower open and you will literally gulp omg. it feels very sensual but also playful and kinky. you will both enjoy and feel turned on by the "lesson" scenario. even if you already know what you're doing, the idea that they are teaching you or vice versa is a big turn on especially because it's your first time. it will also ease your worries about not doing it well.
so the above was more focused on your first sexual experience altogether but i'm going to now focus on your first time having sex. it will be a life changing thing and i don't mean the sex will be so good it changes the trajectory of your life (i mean it will...but anyway) but i mean it will happen as you are entering a new chapter. for example, committing to your person. it could be marriage for some but for most i think it could be before marriage. or if you decide this person is your forever person, so you're entering a new phase of your life where everything doesn't just revolve around you anymore and you need to always consider your person. you could be moving in with them. it will feel like a big change. even a new job, new home, new city. you are transforming in some or every way when this happens. oh i got a message that for some of you, if you plan to wait for marriage, you may decide at that time to do it before marriage. you will surprise yourself with this decision but you will be happy with your decision, i'm seeing.
haha the death card could literally mean you feeling like you died and came back to life when climaxing. like it feels so good you literally leave this world. i see you really letting go. perhaps you were feeling so nervous leading up to this, and when it happened you surprised yourself with how loose and into it you were. it could also be letting go of expectations surrounding sex. perhaps you think about sex a lot, or read or watch it often so you have certain thoughts and expectations about sex. but when you finally experience it, you will realise sex doesn't have a frame of reference. you'll think it's such a wild and unique experience both emotionally and physically that you can't even compare it to anything you previously thought.
for the most part, it will be enjoyable. tricky at first for some but in the end, enjoyable. some of you may find it so incredible while others may feel a little underwhelmed, but will still think it was really good. i see also that some of you may have been expecting your person to be better at sex than how they performed. maybe it's because it's your first time so they're holding back, or they are just not as good as you thought rip. but i'm getting the message that the first time is not supposed to be the best time. the best sex comes with experience and comfort so maybe your expectations for your first time were quite high. i do see most of you reaching an orgasm. for some it will be insanely amazing whilst others may be expecting more. i feel like it's a mixed pile here i do apologise for not being clearer.
oh i do get the message also for those of you who are physically underwhelmed, fret not because as i said when i opened this pile's reading, your first time is more about deepening an emotional and sacred bond with your partner rather than having an out of this world physical experience. you will absolutely cherish the time with your partner. aah you will definitely have that afterglow. feeling so whole and wholesome, fulfilled, completed after sharing yourself with a special person. there is the theme of transformation coming up again. your first time will be a spiritual and emotional journey, achieving emotional fulfilment with your partner and the joy you feel physically will only make the emotions stronger.
𝙥𝙞𝙡𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙚𝙚 💋
cards drawn: three of pentacles rv, the hermit, king of pentacles rv, queen of wands
i also saw the hanged man and four of wands whilst shuffling and although they did not come out, i feel it is relevant to say that the majority of you who chose pile three will have your first time on your wedding night. if you are saving yourself for marriage, then this is your confirmation. it will happen in a number of ways: for most of you, on your wedding night and for some it could happen coming up to the wedding (i'm seeing some could spontaneously elope prior to the wedding and have your first time then), or it could be any time after they have proposed as you are certain you will be married and are too excited to wait. but for most it will be the wedding night.
i also see that some will perform non-sex sexual acts before marriage, like foreplay, oral, with hands etc. but when you go all the way, it will be on the wedding night. you may be feeling some disharmony in a way but not with your person. you may have had a stressful wedding day or some family members weren't treating you right on your special day, perhaps some friend drama. whatever it may be, you will be feeling a little disheartened. you wanted this day to be so perfect and special but someone you love and trust ruined it for you. but don't worry, the whole day won't be ruined. and your person will do their best to help you think about the better things. and i believe there will be a support circle around you, those who will defend you and try to make your day as best as it can be. even if it is not something like a wedding day, i think people will notice the way you are mistreated and try to make you smile.
no one will try harder than your person, however. i think you can really just let down your walls and be yourself with your person and they noticed you were having your walls up due to the stress and disharmony caused earlier. so when you guys are alone at last, it will feel like there is an elephant in the room but neither of you are addressing it. they would rather you just relax and forget about everything, truly appreciating your first time and not allowing any drama from the outside world to ruin your night. oh, let me tell you, they will make you forget it completely! this feels like a soul connection, when you do it for the first time you it will be like a dance between the souls more than the bodies haha. i believe it will also make you connect with yourself. all the new feelings, sensations are weird yet enticing. it's like you passing the first level of a game and simultaneously unlocking the next hundred levels at once. you know you should take it in small steps but it will unleash so much excitement to explore your body and sexual experiences with your person to the highest level. you may even rush your partner but they will tell you to slow down as they want you both to cherish it.
and you will definitely want to do it nonstop after your first time. like the morning after, the evening after, several times a day for the next five months straight haha im really just seeing so much passion and excitement and curiosity surrounding sex, and it all stems from that first night. okay let me get to the actual night itself, your person is going to make you feel like you're sitting on a throne. heck, they might even make you sit on their face because they want to be your throne. i do see foreplay happening, taking it slow, teasing. i think you will be quite nervous though. and your person will definitely notice. i'm seeing some of you may even be panicky. possibly even insecure for some of you. and i also see your person being a little bit insecure about how well they can perform and how comfortable they can make you feel. they are just so concerned about you and they end up overthinking and feeling insecure :( so they put their all into the moment.
haha i see if you have pets, there's a good chance they might climb or jump onto the bed while you're doing it and it will be a cute, funny moment that will bring you both back to earth, you'll feel all the stress and anxiety fade away and you can try again. the energy will be much lighter this time. i do see the first time being successful, it will happen relatively smoothly for most of you. i think more than physical pain, you will be experiencing mental anguish. and that does sound quite severe but for some it will be little, others it will be more. perhaps if you are insecure about your looks or body or how certain body parts look, you may feel insecure about them and act stubbornly. say you want to wear a shirt to cover yourself which might upset your person because they will think you don't trust them.
like i said earlier though, your person will not pressure you. communication is important but they don't want to ruin your first time, it's likely it will be their first also or that they don't have a lot of experience. so they focus on doing the deed itself and enjoying it, exploring each others bodies and making the most out of it. the heavy emotions caused by earlier events will be felt by the two of you but ignored for the sake of creating a memorable night together. and all the talking and communication comes later on. i think you may wish you didn't feel so many burdens and insecurities for your first time but you will also not want it any other way because your person was so affectionate and caring. i see it being quite slow overall, very instinctual. a lot of focus on the physical to distract you from the emotional.
𝙥𝙞𝙡𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙪𝙧 💋
cards drawn: the sun rv, the lovers, temperance rv, three of wands
the sun might literally be setting while you're doing it, or possibly rising but i see the sun going down. some of you may even plan for it to happen that way. this will definitely be done with the love of your life, as i'm seeing. for a number of you it will be on your wedding night but this is not for everyone. i think a lot of you will actually do it before or after. it feels so sweet. like you just know you are doing it with the right person. i see you guys being the more feminine but please take it how it resonates if you indeed feel the opposite.
i'm seeing a a holiday and i literally heard honeymoon. there's a good chance it could happen on your honeymoon. otherwise, it will happen when you and your person are on holiday. celebrating an anniversary perhaps or an engagement, or a birthday or valentine's day. or even just having a weekend getaway to spend time together. that is the scenario i am getting for when it will happen. how it will happen...well it's funny you ask because it seems to just happen so quickly. not the act itself but rather the decision, the passion, the excitement. i see you in particular being so impatient. you want to go to the next level so bad and don't get me wrong, your person feels the same but you are so damn ready for it. i seriously think you may be having extreme sexual frustration. you're so desperate to do it!
you may have attempted to do it already but experienced some sort of setback or delay, perhaps interrupted by life responsibilities. so when you get this chance to do it again, you are not leaving until you have done it haha. oh i think for those of you who are waiting for marriage, perhaps you didn't get the chance to do it on your wedding night or didn't end up going all the way. so you will go all the way when you are honeymooning. hmm so i think you are the type of person who tries to be positive but when you are feeling not positive it is so dramatic. you might be a bit of a drama queen and i'm seeing a scenario where your person is being so playful and attentive of your pouty mood and that's when you will realise "i want them so bad" haha like you will be ready to pounce on them. something about their little dedicated actions will make you want them so much. not just physically, you want them to be your first so bad because they are the best person ever and you can't imagine it with anyone else.
yeah there is so much impatience here. you just can't hold back anymore. it will be a real struggle for your person also they will try so hard to not rush you, but the sex itself will feel like a reward after waiting for so long and giving so much effort to wait this long. oh i'm seeing it could go on for hours. all of that tension, sexual frustration and impatience building up and then snapping and you can't stop. i'm seeing it will be slow at first but i'm also seeing at the end you'll be going fast like rabbits. you and your person will both be surprised at how much you can take, and how well you are taking it. i see you maybe even taking the lead and being on top once you get used to it.
you will both really enjoy the foreplay. for some it could happen quickly because you're so excited to get straight into the sex. but for others, the foreplay could last a while, building up to the real thing and it blows your mind even more. you first time will be so liberating. even during your very first experience, you want to do all the things you fantasised about, explore all of your kinks but the night is so short. it's hard for you to do all of that but the passion and excitement is there and your partner will see it. oh i see opposites attract, so they may be calmer and tamer than you and kind of teach you to slow down whilst still satisfying your appetite.
okay i see you partner envisioning you as a map to explore. not just in terms of exploring your body, but also your mind, your fantasies, your kinks, all the positions they can have you in. your "awakening" is also awakening something inside of them. i think it is important to practise sex in moderation because too much all at once could make you feel sick later on, like eating too many sweets. i'm pretty sure you'll end up ignoring this advice though haha. it's liberating and healing, opening a whole new world to you. this pile feels more refreshing and adventurous compared to the other piles. a very young and bright spirit. there is more focus on the experience with the body rather than emotional connections. it's opening your eyes to a whole new world, blanching your cells in a completely new feeling. i love this for you pile four. there is so much to be excited for.
𝙥𝙞𝙡𝙚 𝙛𝙞𝙫𝙚 💋
cards drawn: five of cups, two of wands, the tower, the devil rv
i'm sorry to open with this pile five but this is the only "negative" pile out of all of these piles, but i do say it lightly. it won't be an absolutely terrible experience so to speak but i do see you feeling some sort of regret after it happens. there will definitely be tears, likely from the initial pain of it happening. but i see the tears also being caused by emotions. ah for some of you, i see you thinking your first time was an opportunity to deepen your relationship with your person, but they will leave you afterwards. you had hopes they would be your forever person but after giving them something so important, they left. for some, it will be that the person was sort of using you, or they realised this experience was as far and committed as they wanted to be with you, so they leave afterwards.
i am sorry to say the above but my advice here is to be very careful and selective with the person you choose. but i think for others, it will be that they will stay with you a little longer, and leave later on due to other reasons. but you will still feel that regret of giving your virginity to them and wish you had saved it in the end. oh i do see a small number of you where it happens as a drunken mistake/one night stand or something of the sort. and for others, there is the possibility of becoming pregnant or getting someone pregnant during your first time which may lead to regrets. oh i know i am saying many different scenarios here so please only take what resonates as this is a general reading after all, there are messages for many different people.
i believe during the act itself, you will be feeling quite courageous, very daring energy. i think you will be nervous beforehand, maybe questioning if you should go through with the act or not. however, i do see you being brave and talking yourself up to it, kind of hyping yourself up to not waste anymore time. it feels quite spontaneous and in the moment, but you will simply just know that you want it to happen. it could also happen when you are abroad or travelling somewhere away from home. and you will have that excitement because your first time is an opportunity to discover something entirely new. you will be pushing yourself out of your comfort zone!
i do see it being a "messy" experience too. like clothes and bedsheets all over the place. even if it was something sweet with rose petals and candles and nice bedsheets, it will all end up a mess in the end. this can be good or bad depending on your preferences, but i do see you being shocked when you realise the extent of the mess which was made. you will be thinking "damn, were we really that unhinged?" it really feels like you're falling. you know those dreams where you're falling and you get those sensations in your tummy? i'm seeing you will have that feeling. it could be when you climax, the feeling of plummeting after reaching a high. you can also sometimes get that feeling when you are nervous or overwhelmed so it could be due to that.
the feeling itself would be quite unexpected. i feel you may have some thoughts or perceptions of how sex might feel but when it happens it is completely different. but in a good way! oh i feel you may be having some deep, dark fantasies in regards to sex, and you will be thinking about them a lot. but your first time will break you away from those fantasies because the act itself is different to what you expect, it kind of changes your thoughts about sex in general. yeah, it is literally life-changing for you. not in an extreme way lol but still, it will change your thoughts and perceptions about sex and possibly about life in general. i also think there will be lots of overwhelming feelings and emotions, but you will work through them easily. okay the last message is so random however i'm hearing "blindfolded", that may be one of your kinks or you will discover it as a kink. it could possibly be a part of your sexual experience. this was a pretty difficult pile to read for with some no-so-great messages, however i do want to tell you to not feel disheartened. you will eventually learn to accept how it happened because the first experience does not set the standard for all of them, and you will learn to have better experiences in the future!
© riizebabie444 — all rights reserved. please do not copy, steal, repost or translate my readings on any site. any act of which will be classed as plagiarism.
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hearts-4-vicky · 3 months
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g!p julie fics are seriously understocked rn it's a crime
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made me bussanut ‼️‼️‼️
warnings: G!p Julie, 5th member reader, reader snuck in cuz she on hiatus😭, fan sign, edging…, semi public sex?, secret blowjob, natty is stupid, u slap her balls like once🎀 kinda short, i think thats it…
um not proofread again…
Everyone at the fan sign knew something had to be wrong with the Julie. To stuttering, gasping, and having her eyebrows furrowed nearly the whole time, people started to get worried. many speculated she missed you, since you were set to be on a hiatus for at least a month due to being accused of being a porn star being debut, (cut me some slack man… idk what to write😭) little did they know you were under the table, stroking Julie’s fat cock.
placing tender kisses along her length and on her tip, never taking her fully in your mouth. Julie had been on edge ever since she sat down, wondering when you would start a proper blowjob. your fingertips teased her tip while you were as the fans started to line up, Julie felt warmth around her tip, making her let out a soft whimper. you wrapped your fingers around the base of her cock, before taking more of it in your mouth little by little. head bobbing on her dick as you take her in your throat. your tongue swiping on the underside of her cock made her let out a low grunt, gaining the attention of the fan in front of her.
“um… are you okay?” the girl asked, before pushing the opened album in front of her
gulping, she answers while trying not to moan out loud “ghk- yeah! how are you though?”
“well-“ Julie had completely zoned out, focusing on trying not to start whimpering in the middle of the fan sign
timeskip… idk what to put man😔
Julie’s facade had started to break as the fansign came to a halt, breathing heavily as showed her no mercy. every time you felt she was gonna cum, you stopped your actions. waiting for the urge to go away before going right back to deep throating her throbbing cock.
As the members were resting, Julie was still trying to be as quiet as she can with her the overwhelming head she was receiving.
“Do you have a ding dong?” Natty whispered to her, breaking the girl from the trance she was in
“H-huh?” Julie gasped out, feeling you play with her heavy balls. your tongue swirling on her tip. Natty continued to speak
“Y’know.. like a… cum gun? pew pew?” Natty started to lean in closer, voice lowered in order to not disturb the other girls. “Or a joystick? whatever you call it!” she trailed off, before noticing the slight sweat around Julie’s neck. “mmfh- fuck..” you took her all in your throat now, pausing for a second before bobbing your head up and down “wha-“ “shhh… yeah I do h-hAVE! one.. oh shit…” Natty looked at her wide eyed as the girl now had her head thrown back. “The fuck?” she questioned the older girl. Before she could respond, Julie felt you bob your head faster, feeling her tip ram into the back of your throat. She brought her hands to her face as to cover her flushed cheeks and to quiet her moans😵‍💫 her cock was throbbing once again as you suckle on her mushroom tip, she prayed you would let her cum deep in your throat. Natty walked away not wanting to deal with whatever was helping with the leader. Julie felt the same knot in her stomach, nearly crying out as she thrusted hard into your awaiting throat for the first time of the night. she painted your insides white with her thick load, making you gag but not rejecting it whatsoever. she leaned back in her chair, riding out her orgasm as she breathed heavily.
“Get up! we’re gonna perform!” Belle called out to Juile. still recovering from her orgasm she panted out a response “huh? i t-thought we would get a little practice before that..” her mind foggy, only thinking about how she would pound your pretty little cunt after this. you giggle at your girlfriend’s cuteness before coughing loudly. hearing this, Belle stepped closer to find the source of the noise.
“what the f-“ Belle lifted the cloth on the table, revealing your topless figure
“oh!- um hi! miss me?”
“how are you here? why is there white on yo- EWW NASTY!”
“nuh uh! not nasty… my babygirl tastes good..”
“yeah whatever.. unnie put your dick away”
hi my loves 🎀 IM LOCKING IN FIX MY ACC RNNNNN n other shit um💪💪💪🤫🧏 wish me luck yall…
Anyway Love you guys and stay safe❤️❤️
-Vicky 💋
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bakugoushotwife · 4 months
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born sinner (part one)
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pairing: crime boss!suguru geto x fem!surgeon!reader series content: blood, gore, realistic descriptions of surgery but like as accurate as someone with access to google has, angst, slow-burn, eventual smut, anxiety as a heavy theme, no curses!au, violence, guns, gang mentions and typical violence, religious imagery, etc. words: 8.5k a/n: omg omg happy new year! the gojo writer takes on suguru geto!! he's so challenging for me in the best of ways and i hope that his characterization is at least tolerable LMFAO!! i got this amazing idea from a gorgeously detailed outline from @antizenin who trusted me to bring her outline to life. i hope you love it!! part two //
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the lights are entirely too bright in the meeting hall. it’s nothing compared to the lights in the OR that illuminate the vessels of a heart as you slice into it—finding the clot that caused the fourty-one year old mother of two to collapse in the middle of making breakfast. you saved her life, you save lives. you’re a cardiothoracic surgeon–and a top one at that, though you spent your residency flirting with general and neurosurgery, you ultimately landed on the heart of it all–literally. it was riveting work. it was satisfying work. you got to play god, holding the lives of everyone that came through the hospital doors in your hands. you got to be the one to repair the tear in their aorta, the one to physically pump their heart with your own grip. it was thrilling. until it wasn’t. until you couldn’t stop the bleeding or make the heart beat again. until being god of the emergency room meant sending some people to the afterlife, and realizing that you are no god. you’re just a woman with a degree and a scalpel and a crippling fear that you don’t know what you’re really doing at all.
that’s what got you here. the clock in front of you is just about the only thing to look at in this section of the hospital. the board meets here—the people that convene to discuss fates. it’s almost comically just that the long hallway before the meeting room was barren and hopeless–only the clock’s hands to tick loudly by in mock of you. 7:55 am. just five more minutes until you went from the god above it all to a simple beggar praying to be spared. you were no different from those you operated on. you’re suddenly very aware of how scratchy and hard your chair is, making you adjust and readjust to try to find some semblance of comfort in the last five minutes before judgment day. as a surgeon, you know just how out of whack your vitals are. as someone with a diazepam prescription, you know exactly what’s causing it, regardless of the MD at the end of your last name. shit, you forgot to take your pills again this morning—
there’s a faint sound of heels clicking against the cold tile floor in conjunction with the loud clunk, clunk, ding dong ding! of the clock that signals the top of the hour. it’s time. the secretary calls your name as if you’re not the only person waiting out here, and you nod without meeting her eyes. you know without lifting your gaze that hers is judgmental–like everyone’s lately. 
the problem with being god is that you can’t make mistakes without feeling the wrath of the people that once loved you and championed your name.
millions of thoughts race inside your head simultaneously: if you can’t handle the hardening stare of a measly secretary, how on earth would you be able to function under the eyes of the council, the real gods amongst men. they have the authority to revoke your license if you don’t figure out how to answer to them. the one case, the one incident, the one person’s life that ended because of your inability to handle such racing thoughts drives you to clutch at your chest now as you rise from your chair, back aching. 
“right this way.” she says without another glance, and you’re thankful for that reprieve. she turns, loud heels click clacking their way back down the hall at the same pace of your hammering heart. you love being a surgeon. you can’t lose that. you have to fight for it. saving lives is important to you! you just have to convey this. it’s not hard. swallow your fear and finally fight for something you want, put one foot in front of the other, you tell yourself. breathe in and breathe out—you have to get your sinus rhythm back to normal if you have any hope of getting through this. but it’s so hard when all your senses lie to you like this, the clock’s ticks still rattling across your brain—the long and dark hallway only stretching to be longer and darker before you. you know it’s impossible–just your mind playing tricks. or, more aptly, part of you knows that. but the other part starts to break out in a cold sweat once you finally approach the door. on the other side of the heavy oak were the group of people who would decide what your life was worth: do you get to stay a god amongst men, or will you be cast out like the devil himself? 
you can hear the different voices speaking in low whispers before the secretary has even pushed into the room. you know they must be speaking about you from the way their eyes dart all over your timid form in front of them as they shuffle their papers—reports of every mistake and triumph you’ve ever had laid out in front of them, reducing you to a datapoint. it’s a medical license hearing, but you feel like a freshly hit opossum standing before the vultures just waiting to pick your bones clean. maybe being roadkill was more freeing than this. 
this room is much darker than the lobby you waited in, dimly lit by reading lamps positioned to the right of each panelist–five total. three men and two women would decide if your mistake was enough to ruin your career. their desk towered above you, so much so you had to tilt your chin back to be able to take in their disgruntled, disappointed, and disapproving stares. your saliva feels like liquid cement when you go to swallow it down—though it tastes like bile.  
“good morning doctor.” the man on the furthest right says. he has the kindest eyes of them all, though your brain catches his deception. he’s just acting. the other panelists give you tight lipped smiles of greeting and head nods of acknowledgement. you clear your throat a little and give them a bow. 
“good morning, board of internal medicine. i’ve…prepared a statement?” you clench your jaw at the shakiness you can hear in your voice. it’s the older of the two women that nod at you this time. 
“you may present it.” she says, a drawn-on eyebrow raised expectantly. you swallow down that bile-cement flavored spit again, training your eyes on a hairline crack in the tile under your toe. it’s fitting. as time passes, this crack will widen and cause that tile to erode and crumble away. this meeting could be the crack in your foundation. the decision made here today could be the first domino of events to ruin the picture perfect life you’ve carefully put into place. 
“..hiroshi nakamura entered the emergency room on november twenty-third at 4:57 pm. he was suffering from an aortic aneurysm. as many of you are former surgeons yourselves, i know you’re familiar with the diagnosis. many of these go unnoticed. symptomatic pain is brushed off, and many times it’s too late to save them, the silent killer.” you shift your weight, doing your best to maintain eye contact despite the haunting memory. “nakamura-san was a patient of mine previously. he was diagnosed with arteriosclerosis three years prior, the exact date escapes me. it was in the summertime. july maybe. later that day i performed an endarterectomy to reduce the atheromatous plaque in his carotid artery. we kept him for the next three days for observation, his vitals improved and he was discharged with instructions to receive regular checkups. when he was brought back in…i knew immediately that the buildup must have returned, making it harder for blood to travel until it turned into a clot. when i opened him up, his pressure started dropping. he had an aortic dissection, which i’ve run into many times. but the size of nakamura-san’s was significant. i hesitated, deciding between a graft or a stent for treatment. i took too long to choose, and nakamura-san…bled out on the operating table.” you grimace, looking down at that cracked tile again. the line was shaped like a lightning bolt, its jagged curve leading straight under your shoe. you can feel your chest tighten, so you close your eyes and try to push back against the wave of emotion sitting in your throat. “i had to tell nakamura-san’s family what happened. his wife of forty years, his thirty-four year old son, thirty year old daughter, and twenty-eight year old son as well as his young grandchildren. i’ll never forget what my mistake has done to their lives, and i believe it is punishment enough.” 
you step back once you’ve finished speaking, heart still hammering away in your chest. the members of the board nod, seemingly unaffected by your words. the man in the middle of the massive mahogany table picks up his stack of papers, licking his forefinger before flipping through them. “how long have you been prescribed diazepam, doctor?” 
your blood stills. your anxiety was clearly well documented, and you knew it would be on their list of questions. “since i was a teenager, sixteen i believe.” 
he hums, eyes focused on the paper before him. “and how would you say it helps you manage your generalized anxiety disorder?” 
you would do anything for that ticking clock right about now, for this room is so quiet you swore they could hear your thoughts. “it helps considerably. i’ve stayed on it for over ten years now.”
“your prescription history is spotty. were you trying alternative therapies?” the younger woman asks, manicured red nails clutching your entire life between them via vulturous paper reports. 
you open your mouth to answer–no, argue–but realize that won’t help you anymore than the truth will. “no. i…had not.” 
she raises her brow just like the other woman did, except her eyebrow was real and also well taken care of. “so what happened? it seems like you’ve forgotten to pick up your medicine three times this year—one of which was during nakamura-san’s surgery?” you are a cardiothoracic surgeon, one that was considered proficient enough to pick her specialty. you are no fool. you can see the trap she’s laid before you even unmedicated. 
this is the end. all because of your busy schedule and long hours at the hospital. sometimes you missed pharmacy hours, other times you just forgot about it altogether, mind racing with diagnoses and cases that wait for you the next day. but that won’t matter now, you can feel it before you even answer. they knew what they were going to do before you ever walked in this room. “my business hours are usually reserved for saving lives at this hospital. sometimes i’m not able to make it to pickup.” 
“how long until your death toll matches that of your successes, doctor?” the final man at the left asks, punctuating their line of questioning. he shuffles the edges of his papers against the flat top he sits behind. “i think our decision has been reached. you’re no longer licensed to operate in this hospital or any other, effective immediately. take your medicine.” 
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he has his doubts, but he supposes that is his nature. it feels strange to organize a meeting between two warring sides, hoping for a somewhat amicable and fortuitous outcome. hope is a foreign concept in this world, in suguru geto’s reality. he runs the west side of tokyo—keeping businesses running and funding local projects as well as controlling the streets with his biggest means of profit—guns for hire. he was a local historic monument. a ghost–everyone knew of him but pretended not to. everyone from bar owners to bakeries, lawyers and school teachers alike all under his influence, his pulse on the town. that’s how he knew the rival eastside head planned to make a move on his territory, and he’s been able to orchestrate a negotiation between them based on the opinion of his mentor and right hand man. 
traditionally, suguru would eliminate his problem at the source. there’s no need to play politics when you make your own rules. but he trusts wholly in his sacred few, the ones who have been with him since the beginning of his reign, and even before then. suguru’s best friend, satoru gojo was his best assassin and loudest mouth. choso kamo was a younger pup, but loyal and hardworking—very protective. and then there was toji fushiguro, the most valued of all. he’s shown suguru the ropes of this industry while still respecting and protecting him. geto entrusts his life to toji. if the man believes a meeting would be wise, then they’ll have the meeting. 
besides, there was no arguing with his logic. if they were able to pull this off, then his men will have free reign in the east, able to expand their territory into shinjuku, and have a working alliance with their only competition. so why was he having second thoughts? he blames satoru and his creepy blue eyes staring at him in the mirror he’s checking himself over in. 
“do you not trust me?” he asks the other man, tugging the top half of his too-long black hair into a neat knot. it reveals the long dragon tattoo that creeps up his neck, eyes glowing with anger at whoever looked. his own golden eyes flicker with unease as they survey the only person in the room. suguru hated how opinionated satoru could be at times, and valued it in others. though he usually didn’t know which way he felt until after the fact. 
the arctic-haired boy scoffed, kicking himself into stride from his previous position leaning against the wall. “oh i trust you. i just think it’s weird. i mean–toji’s so gung-ho, let’s slaughter ‘em all, and now we’re supposed to believe he’s become a diplomat?”
“i didn’t know you knew what diplomat meant.” suguru comments drily, sidestepping his friend’s critique of their teacher.
satoru shoves his round sunglasses back up his nose to conceal his eye roll. suguru was technically his boss—though he could get away with more than most. “hey, you asked. i just…have a bad feeling about this.” he shrugs–a knock at geto’s door causing both men to go on high alert immediately. satoru reaches for his weapon, always expecting an ambush. such is this way of life. 
“geto–sama, the car is ready.” the driver says from the other side of the wood, and satoru relaxes at the realization that it was just ijichi–a man so weak and cowardly that an ambush at his hands would be impossible. suguru releases a breath he didn’t realize he was holding onto. he fastens the final button on his shirt, glancing over himself in the mirror once again. he wanted to appear polished and professional in his all black attire—and it worked. he seemed larger than life and as intimidating as ever. 
“perfect. i should get going.” he nods to his best friend–who, due to his abrasive and blunt nature, will not be attending this meeting. suguru adjusts the cuffs of his sleeves, strapping his guns to his torso and giving satoru a tight lipped smile. the latter gets the door for him, mockingly saluting. 
“i’ll hold down the fort until you get back, boss!” he chirps, nodding to ijichi before making his way back to the data room. 
toji meets them in the car. it’s a bulletproof black bronco, a fitting vehicle to cart around a high-profile crime boss. suguru’s confidence is bolstered at the sight of his most trusted companion, and he genuinely smiles as he ducks into the backseat with him. 
“hey kid, big day.” the older man says gruffly, his gravelly voice making it sound like he were sixty years his senior instead of a mere fifteen. suguru was no child, and didn’t appear to be one either. the twenty-eight year old man towered over six feet, thick with muscle and riddled with scars of experience, but to toji—suguru was a helpless kitten. 
suguru hums, eyes already scanning for potential danger as the car rolls out of the garage. “big day indeed. you’ve spoken to him already this morning?”
toji claps his broad hand down on suguru’s even broader shoulder, chuckling. “we wouldn’t be headin’ out if i hadn’t. sukuna’s ready for us.” he assures, noting how strong and steady suguru looked. toji was proud, geto has grown quite bit from the scrappy little boy he once was. if he was nervous, he was keeping that close to his chest. 
“good. i think he’ll find my proposal beneficial for us both.” he nods, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. sukuna’s crew mostly pushed petty crime and even pettier drugs—suguru’s bunch could elevate their product and offer more riches for the notoriously greedy ‘cursed king’ ryomen sukuna. 
toji snorts a little, amused by his arrogance. “let’s hope so.” he nods, checking the rearview and windows before they fall into silence. 
the ride is smooth due to the expensive tires and ijichi’s careful nature, leaving geto plenty of peace and quiet to brainstorm all of the ways this could go down. he’s doing a genuine good for japan–sure, he has to break a few laws to do it, but the people of tokyo—well, his half anyway—are prospering. he hopes that even the arrogant man that ryomen is can see what banding together would do for them both. then, it could be just a matter of time before he can branch out into the rest of japan. 
there’s that word again. hope. he feels silly each time he catches himself using it. it’s akin to faith to him. something ideal in entirety, hardly true to the touch. he only believes in what he can see–things like optimism and god are lost on him, they are only fantasies. 
“ijichi! watch the right side—” toji commands gruffly, sitting up straighter in his seat to get a better look. suguru is grounded with a shot of adrenaline, leaning over to peer at the black suv hot on their tails. this highway is busy—civilians in their own cars without a clue in the world littered all over the roads at various speeds. it could be nothing–except geto knows better than to hope that the tinted windows on the car were meant to block out the sun instead of concealing identities. the large suv switches into the left lane, speeding up to catch them. “idiot! step on it!” he calls, and suguru draws one of his guns to be prepared ahead of time, a lesson he learned from the man sitting to his right. 
“is it one of sukuna’s?” he asks aloud, cocking his .45 as the first shots ring out from the vehicle beside them. they bounce right off his armored car, but one knicks the tire. geto curses under his breath, cracking the window enough to pop off a few returning shots of his own. the cadillac is impenetrable too–though he had hoped to flatten one of their tires in return or even get one under the hood. 
ijichi starts to lose control on the vehicle as the tire blows—just the metal rim scraping against the concrete with a deafening hiss. the bronco starts to fishtail, the car beside them only furthering the inevitable by nudging the rear quarter panel into the median ahead. “i’m losing it! we’re gonna flip!” ijichi cries out in panic, prompting suguru’s eyes to widen. 
there’s a loud crunch of metal on concrete before they’re airborne. geto feels a sense of finality wash over him as they turn, his seatbelt the only thing keeping him from breaking his neck. there’s another gross sounding scrape of the driver’s side scraping on the road briefly before they rotate again—heartbeat erratic. this is it. all of his hard work would end in a fiery car accident. he can’t even feel it as his head bounces off the window, only thinking about how satoru was right. he should have appreciated his friend more—he’s probably the only person who will mourn him when he’s gone. the roof caves in when they fall onto it this time, shrapnel scratching his face and making him realize they had stopped. they’re on their back–he’s hanging upside down, but he’s alive. he can smell oil and gas and the inevitable smell of fire, so his numb fingers fumble for the seatbelt’s release button. the car alarms are going off—and he knows if he doesn’t get out soon, the relief of being alive won’t even have time to sink in before it’s ripped away again. he looks around the car—toji’s door ripped off in the accident and his body nowhere to be seen. 
“goddammit–” he growls, clicking the button on his seatbelt over and over, unable to get free. there’s a million alarms going off—the car’s sensors, the airbags, the bitter hum of gunshots ringing in his ears still, maybe even faint police sirens heading this way. none as loud as the one in his head telling him that he had to get out soon–fighting until the button finally releases him and he lands with a thud on the sunroof portion of the now mangled bronco. he crawls toward the only exit, toji’s exit, grimacing at the sickening sound of crunching glass digging into his side as he drags himself through it. he thought dying would be more peaceful—that he would be ready for it, even if he hadn’t finished his work yet. in this business, there is no tomorrow, yet he found himself fighting for one. this wouldn’t be the end of him, some sort of voice in the back of his head told him so. it wasn’t his own, in fact he didn’t recognize it—but it made him take the pain and push forward, out of the car and onto the street beside. 
the sunset would be prettier under better circumstances, but he’s grateful to see it irregardless. his head hurts, and he can’t look around as fast as he wants to without getting dizzy, that ringing deafening his senses. he sees the cadillac–still on the scene– with a group of men huddled outside of it talking. 
he sputters out a cough, clearing his lungs of some of the debris he’s inhaled. it catches their attention—and all geto can process is a pair of dark boots stomping over rubber scraps and glass shards until they’re inches from his face and the legs attached are squatting down to get a better look at him. 
“eh, shoulda known you’d survive it if i did.” he grumbles, a voice so unmistakable suguru’s blood stills in his veins. the sole of the man’s boot shoves into suguru’s shoulder, kicking him to his back. “you trust too much kid. why would sukuna negotiate when he could just take from you instead? shame. you coulda been great.” he says, fumbling behind his back for a 9mm piece, the sobering click of the safety and familiar cock of the gun clearing out all the other noises. geto’s too devastated to speak—though he knows there’s nothing he could say. he lived through the accident just to die with the truth: his mentor betrayed him. 
bang!
getting shot doesn’t feel like you think it does. it’s white hot and instant, a blistering intensity that tells you you're dying. suguru’s hand flies to cover the damage to his chest, eyes wide in disbelief still. he must have already died and gone to hell. he can’t hear anything now but the ringing of the gun and toji’s sigh. 
“meh–just to be sure.” toji yawns, scratching his head with the barrel before turning it back to suguru’s chest. 
bang!
it hurts to breathe, but he has to gasp for air either way—bleeding out on the pavement below. the ringing in his ears is replaced by tires spinning out—signifying that the rival crew had left before the cops could arrive. suguru holds his crimson soaked hand up above his face, clenching his jaw. the pain was hitting him in waves, the clawing feeling of glass embedded in his skin mixed with the burn of being shot, the inability to take a deep breath and his growing weakness, he really was dying this time. 
no. 
that voice again. he’s annoyed by it, but intrigued. why? why not give up? he asks himself, coughing despite the excruciating pain it puts him in and the wetness that seeps out of his mouth—something even he knows is blood. 
there’s so much life to live. fight. revenge, love. there’s more for you. 
he stares up at the pale outline of the moon hanging in the sky, growing brighter as the sky darkened. revenge. that was something he’d like to see. he didn’t know about the rest of it–but was confused by this…guardian angel of his. is this god? he was a born sinner—far away from anything holy. this must be an imagination of his—yet it was motivating enough to get him to move again. they wrecked just outside of harajuku. he knew of a dive bar under his business portfolio that he could try to get to–he could hang on until satoru found him and got him to the hospital, though that was a whole new set of problems. he had to get moving, the ringing of sirens getting closer by the second. 
his vision is blackening and he doesn’t even know how close he is to the bar. his breathing is ragged, everything screaming and aching, body telling him to give up but that voice urging him to keep going. night has settled in fully by now, and he’s thankful for that cover. this area of town is avoided by anyone with good intentions, hence its emptiness at this hour. it couldn’t be too late, 8 pm at the latest, but the only traffic moving through this district are giggly college students and no good drug pushers meeting up with customers in the dark. but it’s reassuring to him, it means he’s getting closer. that’s when the reminiscing hits him. he’s able to see some bright flashing lights—a telltale sign that the bar was just ahead. the shelter of the alleyway gives him some reprieve. maybe if he stops just stopped for a second to catch his breath he’d be able to get to his feet and walk inside, or just getting a phone call in would be enough to save him. he thinks about satoru, how he’d come running as soon as he picked up the phone all while cursing him out for not listening to his warnings sooner. he feels embarrassed that the only person he has to think about is his sarcastic best friend, left to wonder if things would be better or worse if he had a family to think about instead. the last thing he thinks about is that mysterious voice calling out to him to stay awake—but his body is done fighting. all is black. 
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what better way to end the worst day of your life than getting shitty at the shittiest bar in town? there were probably lots of better options, like conserving your money since you didn’t know where your next source of income would stream from—but that was tomorrow’s problem. tonight’s problem was drinking your sorrows away next to the attractive man buying all your drinks. he was tall and his hair was spiky to look at but you knew it would be soft to the touch–or maybe that’s the vodka talking. his smile was more akin to a smirk rather than a genuine grin. he was trouble. but trouble was buying, so you’d keep batting you lashes and whining about your sorrows so the shots kept coming. the top-shelf vodka the man offers each time is working to its desired effect, numbing the ache in your heart and the bickering thoughts in your brain. it almost cloaks the mildew scent in the air—rose-colored glasses making the nasty blue carpet and hideous wood paneled walls of the bar look like a dream come true. you finally feel light. you almost forget about the man eyeing you like a predator in wait to your left, consciousness floating high in the clouds. 
you used to hate drinking. as a surgeon, you need a clear mind at all times. who knew when you’d be called in for an emergency case. well, needed. plus, you’ve always been an angry drunk, overly emotional and yelling constantly. it wasn’t a pleasant sight. not to mention the hangovers, ugh—your long-term psyche had always beaten out the short-term pleasure, but tonight you owed it to yourself to feel as bas as possible tomorrow. that’s why the clouds clear—your light-hearted joy short-lived as the bartender slides you another shot before muttering. 
“that’s your last one, doctor.” he tilts his head down, used to serving your fellow surgeon friends when you did have a well-timed night off, though he’s never seen you drunk as the most responsible member of your group, you were always designated driver. not anymore, you’d be lucky to get a text back from any of them now that you were disbarred. maybe that’s what actually makes you mad instead of being cut off. it’s the realization of all the things you’ve really lost–-including the right to drown your sorrows out with a swollen liver. 
“what the fuck?? and i know ya heard me talkin’...not a doctor anymore!! so let me have my vodka, i deserve it!” you whine, stretching your upper body over the scratched and chipped wooden bar keeping you from jumping across at his dumb stupid fat neck—
“no can do, miss. you’re over served as is, ‘s my job on the line.” he shakes his head, eyeing the man next to you to get you under control, assuming he knew you better than a few hours of tipsy talking. you scoff at his insinuations–both that you’re too drunk to handle yourself and that this wallet has any sway over your motor-mouth. 
“don’t look at him—fucking look at me! i’ll kick your goddamn ass, you know that?” you’re fuming. this is the proverbial straw that broke the hypothetical camel’s back. after the day you’ve had, you’re surprised it took this much to get you this rowdy. how much was one person meant to take anyways? venting out your anger would help you plenty, you think to yourself as you lift your knee up, prepared to crawl over that wooden plank saving that man’s life. 
“security!! come get ‘er. she’s wasted.” he scoffs, taking your shot away and making your blood boil even more. “they’ll get an uber for ya. take it easy, doc.” he shakes his head, making you feel remarkably judged all of a sudden, every eye in the place was on you as a guard even bigger than the man next to you drags you off the bar as carefully as he can. you don’t make it easy, kicking and screaming out despite the burning sensation in your cheeks.
“you’re scared of a girl? that’s fucking embarrassing!” you bellow to cloak your own, getting tossed on your feet gently— outside of the dingy building. 
“come on, little lady. let’s get you a ride home.” the security guard says, another one of them making their way outside as some sort of backup–like you were some genuine threat. you scoff, folding your arms. 
“fuck off—don’t need your shitty help, i’ll get home on my own!” you kick his shin, throwing your hair over your shoulder before marching off into the dead of night. 
in one of the worst parts of town. 
the cold shocks you awake, the fear putting you on edge and pushing back the drunkenness that fought so hard to claim you. every rustle of the bushes, each twig snapping has your head on a swivel. you just need to make it to your car, though it was daytime when you foolishly parked it a few doors down to avoid the traffic of drunk people leaving later in the evening. you’ve already made half the distance, the connecting alleyway just up ahead. 
you don’t make it two hundred feet before everything hits you again—and you’re bawling at your own stupidity. you should have made time to pick up your pills. you wouldn’t have to be worried about being kidnapped or murdered in the middle of the night if you had just taken your medicine. your life if over—and you couldn’t blame anyone but yourself. you’re a mess. you’re nearly gasping for breath already—the dark alley mocks you with long shadows reflecting from the moon and stray cats that hop out of the dumpster just to make you fear the worst. you wipe at your cheeks, desperately sniffling to try to regain your senses, eyes aching from the downpour. you’re constantly looking over your shoulder to make sure you’re not being followed, entirely too focused on what’s behind you to notice the log in front of you—you’re sent flying over it and towards the pavement. luckily you take the impact on your shoulder, nothing more than a shocked, “ow–” leaving your lips before you realize you’re not hurt at all thanks to your coat absorbing the brunt of it.
it’s just another strike of your famous luck then, something annoying enough to inconvenience you on a day chock full of them, but not enough to take you down. you push to your hands and knees, looking back towards the offending log—only to realize it’s breathing and has long dark hair strewn about its head. you gasp–the fog muddying up your senses clearing instantly at the realization that this was no log, but some severely injured man! you can hear his struggling breaths, springing into action immediately. it’s nearly second nature to you as you push his hair out of his face and away from his neck. it’s much too dark for you to make out specifics–but his chin shines with something you can only imagine is blood, the same wet liquid pooling in front of his torso, the man laying on his side in an almost fetal position.  
“sir–can you hear me?” you try, placing your fingers where his heartbeat should be. it’s weak and much too slow, but it’s there. you can save him. “sir what happened to you? what’s your name?” you ask loudly, trying to get him to wake up. you groan when he doesn’t respond, blindly fumbling around for the wounds. your heart is racing, any slowness from the alcohol was killed by the adrenaline consuming you now. you gasp out again when you feel glass shards and bullet holes, a good fifteen minutes away from home even if you step on it. you’re not sure if this man has fifteen minutes left in him—the reasonable part of your brain telling you to call the emergency line to get him helped. though, they’d take just as long to show up despite how serious his wounds are. “you’re gonna have to help me a little, big guy.” you groan even louder, trying to put him on his back. it would jostle him less and was the only shot you had at getting a man of his size back to your vehicle on your own. 
you swear you hear him chuckle, but perhaps you were still a bit tipsy. you grab his hands, trying to be careful of the one riddled with glass, situating them in your own at the best leverage point. you’re strong—you can do this. you need to feel useful again–and this man needs to be saved. he’s so heavy, nothing but dead weight as you tug him along behind you. you have to bend a little and pray that your legs can make it to your car, just a final push to get to safety. 
you’re grateful when you see your mom-mobile waiting for you. this was your ambulance, and you were running out of time and the strength to keep pulling, gnawing nervously on your lip. what if he died anyway? what if you couldn’t save him at all, and were only chasing highs you’d never feel again? 
no. you’re skilled. if you couldn’t save this man then… the truth was that no one could. so determination overrides your anxiety for the time being, and you pop the trunk of your sporty suv, looking down at the man with a heart sigh. “okay–i can do it. what are ya, 200, 220?” you muse, squatting down and fixing him over your shoulders as best you could—a fireman’s carry of sorts. your hips and thighs should support you more than your exhausted arms, so you heave up with a strangled grunt. you throw him in a little harder than intended, grimacing. “sorry!” you huff, circling to your driver’s side. at least he’s in, even if your arms are jello and you know you’ll have to get him in the house somehow. you aren’t even thinking about how his blood will stain your tan interior—the rush of saving a life quieting any background noise in your mind. “you gotta hang in there. hang in there, please.” you mumble, weaving through traffic. 
you back up as close to your garage as possible, trying to think ahead for anything that could make this easier on yourself. you throw the car in park, hurrying to get him out of the back. he’s running out of time, and a surgical god you may be–but there’s only so many miracles you can call in. you get him in the same hold from earlier yet you let his feet touch the ground, muscles burning at the exercise. you have to breathe in short bursts, crushed by his heaviness, adrenaline helping you accomplish something you normally wouldn’t be capable of. you stumble with him, still half dragging him. it’s a battle you’re worried you might lose, but you get him on your dining room table, splayed out like a gurney. then you’re prepping your OR, getting the lights on, all the tools and dressings you would need, and most importantly—scrubbing in. infection would kill him if you weren’t careful now. 
“you stumbled into the right hands, mister. or well…i guess i stumbled over you–but you get the point.” you roll your eyes at yourself and glove up, stretching the vinyl over your fingers and flexing them, all part of your pre-op routine. you get your first good look at him then. he’s terribly hurt, it really is even worse than you thought. bullet holes and all this blunt trauma–he must have endured something horrific. but beneath all the bruising marring his olive skin, you can tell that he’s a beautiful man. his inky hair gleams under your bright dining room lights, somehow looking silky despite the tangles bunched up throughout the mane. you sigh, turning your attention to the blood soaked shirt he had on–two perfectly round entrance piercing his front, but no exit wounds. in his case, it was probably saving his life, those bullets possibly lodged in important arteries—scary, but better than bleeding out. he’s already lost quite a bit of blood–and it’s not like you have any history on him to know what type he is. there’s no time to worry about tests–you’d have to get your emergency stash of o negative. it was universal–your own blood that you kept on hand in case of the worst. it looks like this is it. you flawlessly install the iv, watching the slow stream shoot through the clear iv catheter and into his body. it helps with his paleness after a few minutes, and you smile in relief. this was a good sign. you rip his shirt with the last remaining strength you’ve got left, buttons flying to expose extremely bruised ribs and those gaping bullet wounds. “this isn’t gonna feel great, i��m sorry.” you grab your cheap bottle of house vodka, taking another shot from it to steady your nerves before pouring a decent amount over his chest. “i have to get in here—i’m happy you can’t feel it–now, anyway.” you take a deep breath and reach for your scalpel. you decide to perform a sternotomy—cutting between his breast plate to the web of arteries beneath. “i can see the bullets. you’re gonna make it.” you whisper, more encouragement for yourself than for him. your retractors keep his chest open for you wide enough for you to get your forceps in, aiming to pull out a bullet out of a vein close to his heart. “it missed the aorta. you’re actually really lucky.” you chuckle humorlessly.
you wedge your forceps in and take a deep breath. it’s not the aorta, but it will spew blood anyway. “not my preferred method of grafting—no catheters here but. i gotta fix it somehow.” you growl a little in annoyance. you have to squint and move slowly, but you’re able to repair the first leak with a shifty little graft. you’re onto the next one, dropping the offending metal into a bowl—complete with a little clink. “we’ll get you to the hospital just to check my work, yeah?” you sigh, hoping that this would be good enough to save his life. your hands steady over the second bullet, and you repeat the same motions as before. you’re relieved at the sight of his heart literally beating underneath your working hands, knowing that he’s still fighting for his life. you remove the second one and get out of his body—sewing up his chest, letting the blood bag refill his own supply until the bag is drained. you push some saline to clean out the line before hanging a bag of morphine, the pain this mystery man would wake up to would be excruciating. 
once you’re done with the intense life-saving measures, you sit in a chair to pluck the glass from his skin and apply ointments to the road rash on his face and arms. it takes another hour or so of work, but you don’t mind. it’s strangely relaxing to feel like you’re doing your job, and it’s so rewarding when you check his pulse every ten minutes to find it getting stronger and stronger. you hate that you hadn’t invested in a stat monitor, having to check his blood pressure the old fashioned way, but that looked like it was perking up too. you grin, proud of yourself. losing your license didn’t mean you lost your touch. you decide to get the glass and rubble out of his hair, pulling it back away from his face for a second time tonight. you take another lengthy look at the man you’ve saved, still grimacing at the ugly bruises and scrapes when something else catches your eye. the man had several tattoos that seemed unremarkable at first, different dark lines tangling into patterns you didn’t recognize. but the dragon creeping from his collarbone to peek over the collar of his shirt—it’s a yakuza trademark. this man wasn’t a poor soul caught up in a tragic accident—this was a dangerous man. you just saved the life of a war-monger, countless lives ended due to his line of work. part of you wants to open his chest back up and make your grafts fail—but the other part of you wants to feel the success course through your veins when he wakes up. besides, what makes a surgeon and what makes a gang lackey? is it a good childhood? morals? options? who’s to say this man had killed anyone? god knows you wouldn’t want to be judged based off of a few sneak peeks. you sigh, piddling off to your room to get him some new clothes. 
it’s invasive, changing a stranger. but you’re at fifth base already right? saving his life gave you a get out of jail free card, even if he was in the most dangerous crime syndicate in japan. you get his matted jeans off, making yourself look up at the ceiling in modesty and respect. you shimmy the plaid pajama pants up his body–thankful that your ex never came back for his stuff. you decide against wrestling a shirt around all the bandages on his arms and chest—knowing you could hurt him just as much as you’ve helped. you decide to try your luck one last time, pushing your table the short distance to your living room to let him rest on something more comfortable than the cold marble slab. it’s an easy shove to get him onto the couch, and you finally take a deep breath and sigh it all out. success is sweet–surgery is exhausting. you pull a little blanket over him, setting hourly alarms to check on your patient until he wakes. 
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he wakes up to the smell of something cooking. the light pouring in from the curtain makes him squint–definitely a sharp adjustment from the darkness that consumed him before. he hears a woman humming a few rooms away, only furthering his confusion. he didn’t die? but how…he didn’t call anyone, and he knows no one in that area would willingly bring the sirens in to help him–and where exactly was he? all of these things hit him at once, but nothing harder than the deep ache in his bones. he couldn’t describe it, something so sharp and throbbing he could hardly get his body to obey his mind’s orders to move. 
sitting up is pure hell. every red flag and stop sign goes off, making him grunt in agony. but he knows he has to get going–get out of whatever trap he’s got himself into. he doesn’t recognize the room–for all he knows, sukuna’s men followed him and have him here to torture. 
but that woman’s voice, he knows it. that doesn’t mean this isn’t a trap still. the humming stops, and footsteps pad closer until a bright face pokes into the room, an ‘o’ shape forming on her face before she enters–complete with a plate of food. 
“you’re awake–” you gasp in surprise. you had just come to do your rounds, deciding that eating with him would help you better watch out. you weren’t expecting him to already be up and at ‘em, he must be very strong. though you still notice how rigid he’s holding himself. “you really should lie down, you…” he cranes his sore neck, flashing you a glimpse of that black ink. you suddenly remember just how dangerous he is, and he looks like a dog backed into a corner, narrow black eyes sizing you up—distrust all over his feline features. 
“who do you work for?” he tilts his head to one side, and your brows furrow in confusion, oh–he was worried you worked for a rival. you shake your head, eager to defend yourself. 
“n-no one, no one right now!” you blurt out, anxiously shifting your weight foot to foot. you look down at the breakfast in your hands, holding it out for him to take instead. “here! eat, as a sign of my goodwill.” 
he analyzes the plate, then looks back up at you–peacocking his shoulders back and hissing at the pain the stretch brought him. now you know just how weak he is—and he can’t make another target out of himself. “i hope you know i will have you killed if you’re lying.” 
despite the way his glare makes your skin crawl and the hair at the base of your neck stand up, you can’t help but laugh at that. “i wouldn’t lie. i saved your life, why would i waste my time?” you shove the plate out further, basically putting it in his hands–one still heavily bandaged from dragging himself through the wreckage. 
he takes the plate from you. if he’s shocked by that, he doesn’t show it. he only watches you as he eats your food, grunting in pain every so often. you took the iv out while he slept, not sure how he’d react when he woke up to wires. “i uh…i have medicine…for the pain.” 
“who are you?” he returns without a second passing. he takes another reluctant bite of food, stomach growling in thanks. 
you tell him your name, stealing a few glances at the heavy furrow of his brow. “you were badly hurt. i am a doctor..so i helped repair what i could. you should recover. i imagine you need to lay low?” you ask with a raised brow, betraying your intellect. he knows you must have some idea of who he is. “you can stay here as long as you need. you might want to shower–but you’ll…probably need some help.” 
his expression shifts before your very eyes. his clenched jaw and steel brow relaxes into a soft look of…gratitude? truthfully, he was baffled. a doctor stumbled upon him, realized that he’s a criminal, saved him anyway—and now offers her home? he almost worries about how naive you really must be—but he owes you a debt he can never repay. you have given him a second chance—made revenge possible when he had given up completely. “thank you, little ebi. i will take up your gracious offer.” he nods, smiling kindly. 
you smile, heart going awol inside your chest. it was the right thing to do, he was injured and needed to be cared for. you’re a doctor who suddenly has a lot of time on her hands. it means nothing–but that you still have empathy left in you. you know you’re close to shaking, but you turn to leave before it can show. “i’ll grab you a change of clothes. don’t move too much until i get back.” you hum, and he hums in acknowledgement. 
he’s rather polite for a yakuza, his refined calmness even in the most dire of situations rubs off on you easily—you hold your head high as you pilfer through the tote of clothes your ex left behind, trying to find something for the big scary man in the living room. you finally decide on a plain black t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. you even nab some of those painkillers you offered earlier, hoping to ease that stiffness he carries himself with to mask his suffering. 
but when you get back to the living room the only thing waiting for you is the empty breakfast plate and a few hundred dollar bills—your curtains blowing in the harsh wind. your heart sinks for an unknown reason, and you tell yourself it’s because your patient wasn’t dressed for the cold.
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wellitsjustmeagain · 2 years
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I thought I finished this pride post I've been working on all weekend for work (this chaotic bi is very excited about it, while also very tired) but then I got home and realized there's stuff I need to fix
WHICH NORMALLY IS FINE but photoshop for some reason can't stop crashing despite the fact that the file is only like 300mb so I gotta walk back to the office at 8pm lmfao
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ja3yun · 5 months
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The Sun That Always Burns | S.JY Finale
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sim jaeyun x afab!reader
warnings: smut (mdni), oral (f rec.), pussy slapping, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, pet names, dirty talk, i think thats the main stuff, ynjake are so fucking cute so, fluff, reconnection.
wc: 8.7k
synopsis: you and jake's high school relationship blossomed into a romance filled with hope and promise. However, as time went on, jake's long-term expectations began to weigh heavily on you, who struggled to meet them. your paths eventually lead you in separate directions, each experiencing different aspects of life and ultimately moving on from your past love. unexpectedly, fate intervened and you both reunite after years apart. the reunion allows you to rediscover your feelings for each other but also forces you to navigate the complexities of your past and present.
a/n: it's officially over :( i just want to say thank you to everyone who read the series, left comments, and likes! i hope the ending was what you wanted it to be. see you for the sunghoon series!
masterlist
Irony is a funny thing. So is deja vu. As you sit on a train heading home you can’t help but take in your surroundings and laugh at how you have found yourself running away from Jaeyun once again. You find it harder to convince yourself this is the right choice this time, nonetheless. Eunseo is right, you can’t take Jaeyun from Yeoreum. It’s selfish for you to walk in, raise hell, and get your happily ever after, leaving a trail of destruction behind you. You have already caused so much pain and confusion. 
Parts of you know it isn’t your fault, you didn’t know he was going to be there getting married. You did, however, have the opportunity to come clean, to disappear into the wind once again and let them live their happy life, yet you didn’t. Why? 
Selfishness? Ignorance? Love.
It was all for love. You and Jaeyun’s souls are bound by a connection greater than anyone can fathom and as soon as they found their way back to one another you couldn’t stop them from stitching back together, from loving each other. That’s why it feels like dying as you let him go. Just like the first time.
Looking out the train window you see the outskirts of the city you once lived in. It had been a long time since you stepped foot back home and to say you were nervous would be a massive understatement. Pieces of you are scattered around the city, memories of you from a lifetime before. Recollections of your past started to fade the more you were in Pyeongchang, largely due to the fact that you didn’t speak a word of your past to anyone for 4 years. 
Your mind drifts to your mum and dad. Mr. Sim said they had a hard time and that upsets you. In a way, you wish you could go back in time and just tell them not to tell Jaeyun where you were so you could keep your relationship with your parents alight. You have a lot of regrets about that day. 
Stepping off the train you smell the same caramelised nuts from when you were a teenager.
__
When you walked up to the Son family house, it was big, like a mansion. Nothing like your childhood home you were briskly walking up to right now. Carting your bag up the driveway your mouth goes moist, like you’re going to vomit any minute. If you were being honest with yourself you would admit that the anxiety you’re feeling seeing your parents again was overwhelming. If you didn’t know your body you would genuinely believe you might die. 
Tentatively, you raise your hand to the bell, waiting to muster up the courage to press the button. “It’s just your parents, they won’t hate you.” Your voice is barely above a whisper as you convince yourself to push the button.
The ding-dong from the doorbell shoots fear straight through your chest. What if they slam the door in your face? What if they shout and scream at you? You feel like a kid again who is terrified of their parents scolding them for doing something naughty. Guess it doesn’t matter what age you are, 13 or 23, you’ll always be scared of your mum and dad.
A gust of wind hits your face as the door swings open. Your mum. Your beautiful mum. She was right in front of you and suddenly your throat closed and your tear ducts filled.
“Y-Y/N? Sweetheart?” Her mouth hangs open as she whispers out your name, scared that if she says it too loud you’ll vanish from her. You don’t move and neither does she. 
During this time you look at how she’s aged so gracefully, crow's feet that were slight are now deeper, her forehead is adorned with new wrinkles, and her laugh lines are starting to appear. Your mum didn’t just miss you growing up, you missed her growing up too.
The wind blows around you and it pulls you both out of your trance.
“Hi, mum.” You wave nervously, your voice cracking, “How ha-”
Pulling you into her she hugs you tight, her arms squeezing around your neck as she takes in your scent. She can’t believe her baby is right in front of her. There is an astronomical amount of comfort in her hug, but she might squeeze you to death if she grips on any longer. “Mum…too tight.” Laughing slightly as you shed a tear.
“Sorry, sorry, I just can’t,” Her eyes drag over you and suddenly that sweet and soft look turns harsh and you know exactly what is coming, “Where have you been, young lady? Do you know how many times I called the police to look for you? How much time I spent worrying? My hair has turned grey because of you!” 
You laugh and hug her again, “I missed you too, mum.” Her tense body from the scolding she gave you flutters away, this hug holding every apology and forgiveness in it.
Your dad walks up to the door and he sighs relief. He never did have much to say but as he hugs both his daughter and wife, he says enough. 
“Welcome home, honey.”
___
After what felt like hours of explaining everything to your mum and dad, you finally felt the exhaustion hit you. It was hard to blabber out everything that had happened in the past week never mind the past 4 years. When you spoke about Jaeyun they also told you about how it affected him. 
He was a mess according to them. Jaeyun was never home, looking around every motel, all your friends' houses, and hospitals, he even went to every train station with your picture begging people to tell him if they had seen you. It shattered your heart to know that you did that to him. He said he went searching but somehow hearing it in detail from your parents made it worse, like you were there living it with him. 
Yet, here you are, doing it again to him. You can’t even find peace in the fact that at least he has a life to continue with because deep routed within you, you selfishly need it to be you that he’s with. 
As you drag yourself up to your childhood bedroom you feel the depression you felt that clouded you 4 years ago. It’s heavy and you can’t even be bothered to lift your feet to the next step. Talking about it all just puts everything into a clear and concise perspective.
You can’t have him. 
Opening the door you are hit with a massive wave of nostalgia. Everything was exactly in the same place; your plushies, the clothes you threw out of your wardrobe as you packed, and the posters of Monsta X and Seventeen are plastered along the walls. Suddenly you’re 19 again.
You place your bag down on your desk chair and sigh, beginning to tidy up your surroundings. Now you’re older you understand why your mum was always infuriated with the mess of your room and how she cleaned it for you. You’ll thank her properly for all those times tomorrow.
Walking to the pile of clothes you had on the floor you trifle through them and laugh, your fashion sure hasn’t changed. You haven’t really changed all that much if you think about it. One piece of clothing in your peripheral vision catches your eye. A simple black stretch t-shirt with a Lacoste logo embroidered on the right side. It was his t-shirt. 
Your fingers instinctively reach for it, picking it up gently and bringing it to your nose. Somehow it still smells like him, like the him you had the pleasure of calling yours. Gripping it tight you bury your face into it, soaking his essence up. A memory of the last time you remember him wearing it projects in your head. 
He was coming back from football practice and stopped at your house to see you. You think about how pretty he looked that day with his baseball cap put on backward, a silver chain peeking from under this very t-shirt you’re holding. How could someone be so effortlessly beautiful? 
“Baby?” He said waltzing into your room, still high from a successful practice. You were lying on top of your bed with earphones in.
“Jaeyun!” You beamed and sat up a little as you took an earphone out, “thought you were going to Heeseung’s after practice?” 
“Nah, wasn’t feeling it. I’ve used up my social battery for today I think.” He takes the earphone from you and places it in his ear. 
Like muscle memory, you opened your legs and he lay between them, his head placed on your tummy, arms hugging around you so his palms are placed against your back. 
“Jaeyun, if your social battery is drained, why are you here?” You look down and remove his cap, raking your hand through his hair. His puppy eyes meet yours as he looks up, his chin poking your stomach.
“Babe you know you don’t count,” he plants a kiss on your stomach, “I can never get tired of you.”
Heartache is the only feeling you have right now. Everything was so simple back then and you had to ruin it. How many chances did you miss to lay with him like that because you were stupid enough to leave him? 
All the conversations from the last few days swirl in your mind.
‘I would have made long distance work.’ 
‘Baby, I love you’
‘They don’t want him to marry her.’
‘You’ll make the right choice’
’If those reasons don’t matter anymore, you should do what you think is best.’
‘He would leave my sister for you’
It was all too much and you only had yourself to blame. You can’t shake this heaviness in your chest, the only peace you’re finding is in the comfort of his old t-shirt. 
Slipping out of your clothes you forget about cleaning your room, too sad to focus. If you can’t even clear up your thoughts what chance do you have cleaning this mess up? You strip down to your panties before putting on his t-shirt. It fits the way it used to, it’s slightly baggy and ends just on the very top of your thighs. Something about your body being engulfed in something that’s his makes you tranquil. 
You pull your covers back and slink into bed, the sensation strangely foreign despite the years you slept here. As you get comfortable, Jaeyun’s t-shirt wafts, and it’s like he’s in bed with you.
You cry yourself to sleep and dream of a better reality. One with you in his arms. One where you are his.
___
A loud thump at the door jolts you from your slumber. Someone is pounding at the front door and the sudden rude wake-up makes your heart match the rapid bangs. 
Creeping downstairs to not make a sound, your eyes are scanning the lower ground floor for any sign of your parents, fuck, any sign of life at this point. Your dad always said not to answer the door if they ‘chap it like a copper’ so you’re very apprehensive. 
“Dad?” You whisper shout and another couple of hard knocks scare you again. This is it. You’re going to die. It’s karma for all your mistakes. 
It seems you’re the only one home and you stomp your feet like a bratty child trying to build the courage to open the door. “If I die tell Jooheon I loved him.” You say to no one in particular, just anyone that will head your plea.
Unlocking the door you slowly open it and have your eyes tight shut, ready for the worst. 
“Y/N…” 
That voice. His voice. 
You pry one of your eyes open to see if your ears are deceiving you. They aren’t.
“Jaeyun? W-what are you doing here?” You look around behind him in bewilderment and then back into your house searching for the time. “You’re getting married in like-” Whipping your head around you don’t get to finish your sentence.
“I’m not marrying her.”
Shock pulses through your veins. Guilt pours into your heart. This is your fault. 
Your water line was filling with tears at the thought of you ruining his new relationship, ruining his new life all because you were an idiot. You stayed too long, let yourselves get attached again. 
A scoff of disbelief leaves your mouth and you shake your head. “You can’t be serious?”
Looking into his eyes was the worst thing you could have done. He’s tired and drained, he’s looking at you like you hold the universe. Waves of all emotions crash onto you at once and you try to fight back the tears. 
“I’m so serious, baby.” He steps forward and you step back, “No, no, no, Y/N, don’t run from this. Did you think I wouldn’t come chasing after you this time? I love you, Y/N. I can’t live without you, not again.” 
Jaeyun spent the whole night driving, his first stop was at your flat in Pyeongchang. He begged Eunseo for the address and after a hard slap to his face, she gave him it. Jaeyun asked as a shot in the dark, expecting no result, but Eunseo saw the way he was frantically running around the house looking for you. She couldn’t see three broken hearts from this situation. When you weren’t at your flat there was only one place you would be. Here.
You shake your head full-on crying now and trying to get away from him but he yanks you back until your chest is pressed against his. His lips are dangerously close to your chapped ones. Sucking in your bottom lip you sob and look down, “Tell me you want us. Tell me you felt everything I felt this week.”
His words aren’t registering in your head. All you are thinking about is how this is exactly the situation you wanted to avoid back those years ago, Jaeyun giving up everything he has worked hard for, just for you. “You can’t do that. You can’t leave her.”
“If it meant I would have you back I would do anything. I’d break anyone’s heart to be able to hold yours again.” Jaeyun’s eyes are holding tears as his heart beats loudly in his chest and you feel it softly. Only soulmates can notice minute things like that. His words echo in your head and you sob loudly, covering your mouth. “I’ll ask you again, tell me you want this, us.” He’s begging for permission to love you again, to just be yours again.
Jaeyun’s feelings for you never left. When he went to Busan and attended Apollo College he was a shell of a person with only two emotions inside him longing and love, both just for you. 
“You started your new life for a reason, you gotta live it.” Despite your words trying to separate you both you find yourself practically melting into him, becoming one again. 
“Baby, please,” He kisses your forehead and feels you exhale in contentment at his lips laid upon you once again, “I might be living this life but if I don’t have you I’ll spend all of it failing to get over you, just like I have been.” Lips graze from your temple to your cheek, etching their way to your lips, brushing ever so slightly. “What you asked that night at the club, you meant it.”
Confusion sparks on your face, “huh?”
“When you asked me not to marry Yeoreum.”
Shock. 
You’re in complete shock. You didn’t say that, did you? There is no way did. Jaeyun sees the confusion written across your face. You really don’t remember. 
“I saw it in your eyes, in the way you kissed me, touched me. Y/N, it’s fate that you turned up.” Jaeyun’s lips are touching yours as he speaks, patiently waiting for you to give him the green light to devour you in a kiss. But you don’t.
There is so much to lose. Friendships, families, opportunities. Eunseo meant so much to you, if you take Jaeyun away from her sister you’ll lose her. But you’ll lose Jaeyun if you don’t take this chance. You’d be so selfish to say yes to him, to break Eunseo’s heart. To break Yeoreum’s heart. “What about Yeoreum? What about her?”
“I told her everything,” His big hand is holding the right side of your face now, “about us, about how I felt, that I think deep down we both knew we didn’t want this wedding. I wasn’t over you and Yeoreum wasn’t able to live with a husband that couldn’t be 100% hers. And she shouldn’t have to.”
“But you love her.” That’s what you had always thought.
“I loved that she was a distraction from you. When she and I met I was just hooking up with her,” There is pain on your face as he says those words and he rubs the apple of your cheek, “I know, I’m sorry baby, but you gotta hear me out.” He continues, “It was casual, she was good to me, patient. But no one was ever going to shine a light compared to you. One day she was just…my girlfriend.”
You shut your eyes. Honestly, you didn’t want to hear any of this. Of course, you knew she got to have him and touch him the way you used to, but when someone says it so brashly it makes your skin crawl. Especially when it was coming from his lips.
“I told her I wasn’t over you but she said she could help. After that…” Jaeyun continues to thumb your cheek, hoping it provides some comfort and reassurance. “I thought I fell in love with her. Really I did. I even asked her to marry me but I was just in love with the fact that she made me forget you, even for like a millisecond.” He rubs his nose with yours, sighing and closing his eyes, “Believe me, Princess, when I tell you I thought about you every single fucking minute of the day.” 
You did believe him because you did the exact same thing. Even in your dreams, he was always there. 
“Then when I turned around and saw you at the party on Tuesday,” He bites his lip and opens his eyes, almost rolling them at the thought of you in that dress, “Nothing was distracting me. I kissed her and suddenly all I could think of was you again. Your lips, how you made me feel. Fuck, Y/N, you’re the only one that ever let me just be me. How could I truly love someone that I can’t even be myself around.” 
The sobs in your chest rumble as you hold them in but it’s getting hard to breathe. “Shh, baby, relax.” He can feel you struggle for air and he wraps you tight in a hug, “Princess, I love you.”
As he feels your arms wrap around him and hears you crying, he guides you into the house and kicks the door shut to give you some privacy.
Crying hard into his chest he simply soothes you, gently caressing your back and kissing your hair. It’s all too much for you to process. 
One side of you feels guilty, he was happy with Yeoreum before you showed up. The wedding that was meant to take place today is canceled because of you.
The other side of you feels like it’s floating, finally free of a burden. You can love Jaeyun with all your heart because you have the opportunity to be his.
“Princess, look at me.” Jaeyun’s pointer finger lifts your chin, both your eyes meeting, glazed in water. “I’ve already called off the wedding, baby. Either you have me or you don’t. The decision is yours and I’ll respect it.” He smiles sadly, “but if you say no then I’m single and honestly I can’t bear to download a dating app. I refuse.” Jaeyun jokes to lighten the mood and you laugh loudly, masked in a sob. 
He’s right, there’s nothing really stopping you from being together now. You’re basically graduated, and so is he. He has a job in Busan which is like media hub central so you could easily find work. There is no reason to torture your souls anymore.
“Okay.”
“Huh?” Jaeyun’s eyes widen and dart over every detail on your face, waiting to hear what he wants to.
“I love you so much, Jaeyun.” It’s your turn to reach your hand to his cheek, your palm only covering a fraction of what he covers on yours. “I want to be yours. Forever.”
A second. It took one whole second before Jaeyun’s lips were devouring yours, those beautiful full pink lips pressed hard against your own. Not one thought left in any of your heads other than each other. 
You’re both desperate, clashing with one another. Jaeyun dips down and his hands slide down your ass to your thighs, picking you up so you are sitting on his hands, legs enfold around his waist. Not once did you stop kissing him. 
He carries you up the stairs, his feet moving instinctively and quickly to your bedroom like it was just yesterday. Jaeyun knew the scope of your house in every light and darkness with how many times he snuck in to fuck you late at night or had dinner with your family.
When he reaches the top step he bounces you up so you’re more secure on his waist but as your core presses down on his hardening cock he groans. He missed the way you felt and even this teaser was almost sending him over the edge, tempting him to just take you in the hallway.
Kissing Jaeyun felt like sunflowers blossoming in your stomach and out of your mouth, pouring sweetness and love into every smooch, every tongue flick. He rushes into your bedroom and almost falls over the mess. Fuck, you really should have cleaned your room.
Jaeyun’s hands grip you tighter to stop you from falling, “Sorry, Princess.” He places you down gently and goes right back to kissing you, his hands roaming the soft skin under your t-shirt. 
That’s when he notices what you’re wearing. His t-shirt. One he thought he lost when packing to leave for Busnan, but it was with you. Just like his heart. “I thought I lost this.” There’s a double connotation to his words. Yes, it was about the t-shirt, but it was also about you and your love. You look down and sheepishly grin.
“I found it when I came back here.” You say while his hands take the bottom of the t-shirt and rub it.
A smirk plastered on his face, “Damn,” he tuts, “Here I was having thoughts about you touching yourself wearing it while we weren’t together.” 
Oh, Jaeyun hasn’t changed one bit. Still horny, still obsessed with you. Playfully you roll your eyes. “Bold of you to assume I didn’t have another t-shirt of yours.” 
If a grown man could purr, he would have. Closing his eyes, he had to compose himself for a moment before he busted a nut right there and then. You use the moment to massage your hands up his torso and on his chest, rubbing your thumbs over his nipples. The purr turns into a whine as he grabs you tightly on your waist. “Fucking love you so much, Y/N.”
Jaeyun’s lips are back on yours with force as he pushes you onto the bed, his weight hovering over you. The heat emanating from both your bodies feels like the sun has been turned up by 100, his touches light up your skin, and his lips leave sunburnt kisses all over your neck. The way he’s desperately clutching your skin proves to you how much he missed you.
“I wanna fuck you in this t-shirt but shit, I gotta see all of you, baby.” Jaeyun pants in your ear. He’s like a dog on heat, just aching to have you, to consume every inch of you. His tongue runs down your neck until he reaches your collarbone but you need more than this.
While he’s kissing and biting the base of your neck he’s gripping at the t-shirt that’s covering his second favourite part of you and lifting it to uncover your tits. Jaeyun peels himself away from you for a second to admire your figure. God how he has missed your body - the softness of your skin, the way each of your boobs fall slightly to the side when you’re on your back like this, and how your nipples stand proudly. It’s mouth-watering.
“Sit up a bit for me, Princess,” Jaeyun says as he takes off your t-shirt and that’s when he sees the necklace again. He noticed you wearing it the whole week and it made him feel proud, like part of you always belonged to him. His pointer finger holds the chain away from your neck and his smile is beaming. “You never took it off? Like ever?”
“No. I couldn’t” You confess, looking down at it, the sun symbol shining as brightly as the first night he gave it to you. Jaeyun’s smile widened further if that was even possible. Something about you always being branded by him made him feel feral. You were always his and it made him feel guilty because literally yesterday he was getting prepared for his wedding to someone who wasn’t you.
You see his face change to a look you’ve not seen before, “Hey,” Your hand reaches for his face, “What’s wrong?”
“I’m sorry. For ever being with someone else.” Your heart shatters. It’s not his fault, none of it is.
“Jaeyun you never have to apologise for trying to move on. I left you without a word, it’s only natural you would move on.”
“But I didn’t. I couldn’t move on.” His hands are massaging your tits as he speaks and it’s sending your brain into a frenzy. It’s been so long since he touched you so intimately yet so commonly. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to put into words the love I have for you.”
As his hands knead your breasts he feels your heart skip and it entices him to lean down and kiss you softly. The act between the two of you right now is so pure and raw. It’s meant to be. 
You kiss him back gently, your tongue slipping into his mouth. The taste of him is so delicious you can’t help but moan and your hands rake through his thick hair. Instinctively, your back arches and pushes into him, the motion causing your tits to mold further into his hands, and the flesh spills between his fingers. 
Jaeyun keeps one hand on your left tit while the other slips down past your waist, the pads of his fingers etching hearts into your skin just like that day in the car. The feeling of his gentle touch is making your stomach do cartwheels and your core aching to be touched. You rub your thighs together to create some friction that will help ease the neediness. He notices you wriggling and he knows exactly what you’re doing.
“Am I not going fast enough for you, Princess?” He smirks, his middle finger dips into your pants just enough to sit in the waistband. You’re throwing your head back, preparing yourself for him to touch you where you need him but instead all his motions stop, causing you to open your eyes and go back to looking at him.
“What are you doing?” You ask.
“You seem to be pleasing yourself all on your own, baby,” Jaeyun’s eyes fall down to look at your legs rubbing together like they’re two sticks and you’re in the woods trying to start a fire, “Don’t want to interrupt you.” 
Oh, he is evil. It’s been 4 years since his hands have been on you and he still has the reserve within him to tease you. 
Jaeyun sits back and grabs your hand, placing it on his wrist. “Use it.”
“Use what?” You’re genuinely confused.
“My hand. Use it how you want. Tell me what you want since you seem to be so desperate and clearly I’m not doing it right.” His tone is unbothered but mocking. There’s a glint in his eye that’s almost challenging you. He’s so fucking hot.
Taking a harsher grip on his wrist, you open your legs and push his hand to cup your heat. He never let you take charge before so you’re apprehensive but you need to take your pennies before they disappear. 
His hand stays there doing nothing and you look at him expectantly. Why isn’t he doing anything? 
Putting your hand to ghost over his you push it down, his palm now pressed hard against your vagina yet he still doesn’t move. His head shakes as he pouts, “That all you want? Come on baby, I thought you were desperate. Hmm?” Somehow his voice is an octave lower and it elicits your pussy to drip through your pants and onto his palm. When Jaeyun feels it he smirks, licking his bottom lip. “Your bodies telling me everything, but you gotta use your words, Princess.” 
You’re feeling a little defiant, he’s too cocky in this situation and you want to take him down a peg or two. So you press the bottom of his palm to your clit and start to grind on it.
When Jaeyun carried you up the stairs not even 30 minutes ago you thought the sex would be sweet, full of confessions and whispered promises to never leave each other again considering the emotional rollercoaster you both went on this week. But you should have known better, that was never his style. 
The sensation of his rigid palm against your nub was sensational and you were gasping when it rubbed you a certain way. You could get off just by doing this but you needed more. More of him.
Jaeyun can see your internal conflict of whether or not to tell him what you want. He leans down, his breath tickling your ear as he speaks, “Princess,” he nips at your lobe, “give in?”
“N-no.” You’re trying to focus on the pleasure you’re feeling but your entrance is clenching around nothing like it’s talking to you and telling you it needs to be filled by something. Anything at all. Jaeyun. 
He tuts and sighs heavily, pulling back and watching you grind on his hand. “Since when didn’t you listen to me?” His middle finger suddenly rubs in between your folds, ghosting over your hole and you could cry with happiness but he stops as soon as he starts, “Want more of that?”
Nodding quickly you stare at him desperately, your hips never stopping the action that’s giving you satisfaction. “Tell me.” 
It was almost like he was asking you to beg him. 
And that is exactly what you do.
“Fuck, please Jaeyun, I need your fingers inside me.”
“There’s my good girl.” He kisses your temple and his once limp hand now gains its strength as it takes over. Finally.
Jaeyun doesn’t know how he’s restrained himself this long. If he wasn’t so in love with the way you act when he teases you he probably would have fucked you and made you cum 3 times already. But it’s the first time in so long since he’s had you like this, he was going to make sure he gave you everything he had. Showed you just how much he missed you.
After pulling your underwear down, two fingers breach your entrance and you throw yourself back onto the bed, gasping as you finally feel some sort of release. He thrusts them in slowly, gliding them in and out as he stretches you out in a way only he knows how. 
Right now Jaeyun didn’t want to think about how you’ve probably been touched by someone else but god does he love to have his ego boosted, so he asks the question, “You’re so tight, baby. All those other guys not fuck you right?”
You can’t believe he’s bringing this up right now. Of course he would surmise that you probably had sex. It has been 4 years and you weren’t going to go celibate your whole life. But to ask it while his fingers are fucking you open, curling into you like he was gesturing for your orgasm to come closer? He sure did pick his times. You know what he’s looking for, what he is looking the hear.
“No,” your voice was quiet, almost lost amongst the wet noises your pussy was making as Jaeyun picks up the pace, “No one fucked me like you do.”
“Because I’m the only one that can fuck you good. Isn’t that right?” His fingers start to scissor you open further causing you to lift your hips and bury the back of your head into the mattress. Jaeyun’s free hand lays flat across your lower abdomen and pushes your hips back down, the pressure only adding to your gratification. 
He was right though, not one other person ever fucked you as good as him. The way he would listen to your body was otherworldly, always giving you exactly what you craved. All those boys from college just looking for a quick fuck didn’t care about you or if you came. Not like Jaeyun who thought if he made you cum only twice it was a weak night.
“I only want you.” You confess his heart could flutter straight from his chest. Jaeyun had missed the way you would just casually say the prettiest things, especially when you were so fucked out like this. He smiles widely and kisses your tummy.
“And I only need you,” he replies, his lips still lingering under your navel. 
His thumb rubs your clit and you’re seeing stars, a coil erupting in your stomach. Jaeyun feels you cumming and goes harder with his fingers, thrusting them up at a rapid pace just the way you liked and putting pressure on your sensitive bud. “That’s it, Princess.” He talks you through it but you’re too far gone to hear a word he says, “So fucking beautiful cumming on my fingers like this. Such a good girl for me. I love you so much.” He says these cute but filthy words in between kisses he’s planting on your forehead. 
As you come down from your high you don’t get a chance to breathe as you feel your legs being pinned open and Jaeyun’s tongue is lapping up your cum. “J-Jaeyun give me a…give me a minute.” But he doesn’t let up, lost in your essence, drinking your cum like it’s the sweetest thing since honey. 
Your taste has been missed. Jaeyun almost forgot how addicting your pussy is. Messily he starts to lick and suck at your overstimulated nub, he’s eating you like a man starved and you can’t help but be brought close to release once again. 
His tongue dips into you, curling as he slurps up every trace of your last orgasm. Your fingers find his hair to grip on while you moan profanities into the warm air.
“Tug on it, Princess,” Jaeyun instructed and you did just that. Yanking his hair emanated a low groan from the boy between your legs, his hips humping the mattress to try and relieve the pressure in his trousers. If he didn’t make you cum again soon he would spill right into his boxers. That situation only happened once when it was his birthday and you wore those cute frilly pants that he loved. You let him eat you out with them still on, the fabric rubbing against his nose, and when you came all over his face he came in his boxers. 
Jaeyun’s eyes roll to the back of his head at the memory, only spurring him on to devour you even more in this moment. He feels your walls contracting around his tongue so he pulls out and puts his mouth to work back on your clit.
“S-shit, Jaeyun,” The grip you have on his hair tightens, “I’m gonna cum again.”
The smirk on his face didn’t match the butterflies in his chest. His cocky exterior was a mask for how much he was anticipating your release on his face, how he was so giddy with excitement that he got to soak you up, something he thought would never happen again.
“Let go, love. Give it to me.” He wanted to sound confident but he practically whined it, begging for your nectar. He was hungry for it, for you.
His words have you cumming again and the sound that erupts from your mouth has Jaeyun growling into your pussy. He was the one making you cry out in pleasure like that and he was confident no one else ever had. 
Your chest is heaving, pants echo in the room but Jaeyun is still between your legs, cleaning every last drop from you. 
“Jaeyun, please…” You go to shut your thighs but you can’t, his hands forcing them to stay open. He wasn’t done with you but you don’t know how much more you can take. “Baby, I’ve only got one more in me, max.” It’s embarrassing to admit it but you haven’t cum like this in so long, and you wanted to cum on his dick at least once today. 
His big eyes twinkle as he peaks his head up. “What?” He looked so cute you contemplate if you could really cum 2 more times.
Playing with his luscious now slightly damp hair you smile at him, “I can push for one more but I want it to be on your cock.” Almost like your words pulled him out of his trance he smiled, placing one last kiss on your clit before sitting up. 
“Remember you used to be able to cum like 6 times in one night?”
“Yes,” You roll your eyes and smile, “but that was when you had me trained. I’ve not cum more than once in, oh I don’t know, 4 years.” 
The arrogance radiating off him was so sexy. Jaeyun’s ego was the size of a hot air balloon as you disclose the information that he is in fact the only man who can make you feel good like this. 
His hand pets your pussy as he leans down again, “Don’t worry, I’ll train you back up in no time.” 
“Um, Jaeyun?” 
“Yeah?” His eyes meet yours waiting for you to continue.
“Did you just speak to my vagina?” 
There’s a silence and then laughter from both of you. Now that Jaeyun hears you acknowledge his actions out loud he realises how strange it must have looked. He brings his hand to scratch the back of his neck as his laugh gets louder.
“Yes?” He chuckles and places his hands on his hips in embarrassment, “Sorry.”
“Is that a new thing you picked up? Talking to genitals?” You shuffle up so you’re sitting straight, legs spread as wide as the smile on your face.
Jaeyun shrugs, “Sometimes it’s a very stimulating conversation.”
Your eyebrows raise, “Oh really? And what is my pussy saying to you now?”
Crawling towards you he smirks and his puppy-like eyes are blown out with love and lust, “It’s telling me that it needs to be fucked so good it’ll start barking.” You laugh again. He’s so silly and stupid. He’s your Jaeyun.
Once you both stop laughing you place your hand on his face, stroking your thumb on the squishy part of his cheeks. You both look at each other and instantly understand one another. The apologies, the pining, the need, the love. You could almost cry right there and then as his eyes whisper a soulful ‘I love you’, you can’t ever imagine living without him again.
“I love you so much, you know that right? You know I never stopped?” The hand that was on his face now wipes his mouth clean of your cum. Jaeyun wouldn’t have cared if your juices stayed there forever, at least he could taste you all the time.
“I know, Princess. I love you more than the moon and the stars.” Jaeyun’s bottom lip juts out and you take the opportunity to kiss it, sucking it a little and tasting yourself on him. 
Sitting on his knees he deepens the kiss, leaving you breathless. Your hands unbutton his trousers clumsily and he smiles into the kiss. “Want a hand?”
“Shut the fuck up,” You laugh, “I’m distracted.” Jaeyun beams and nuzzles your nose.
Standing up, Jaeyun pulls down his trousers and goes to follow it with his boxers but he swiftly turns around and heads for your drawer, looking to locate a condom. He pulls out the shiny blue packet and examines it, “Baby?” He twirls to you, the packet in between his middle and pointer finger, “You think these have an expiration date?” 
You watch him look thoroughly at the packet. If he didn’t look so cute right now you would be wondering how he can be so bright but so dumb at the same time. “Jaeyun, baby, did you not take sex ed?”
“Huh?” He’s puzzled.
“They lose effect over time? 3-5 years max? Ring any bells?” You’re trying to hold in a laugh as his eyebrows furrow together.
“When did we learn that?” He’s racking his brain for any recollection of the class, then i clicks his fingers and point to you, “Ah, Mrs. Lee. That was the class I made those little boat hats in.”
He was so proud of himself, every time he had the class he timed how many he could make within the hour.
“I think I still have the pink one you made me in here somewhere,” You scour the room to see if it was easily available. “Anyway, you don’t need it.”
“The boat hat?”
“No-” Oh my days he is unbelievable you think to yourself “No the condom you idiot!” You’re shaking your head in disbelief. He is truly so stupid. “You don’t have to use one, unless you want to, of course.” You let him decide what to do. However, you’re patience is wearing thin and you’re getting chilly due to you sitting on the bed naked.  
“Seriously?” Jaeyun never thought he would get to feel your raw pussy ever again. That one time you let him fuck you without a condom was the best thing he ever experienced. With Yeoreum he always wore a condom despite her protests most times. He just couldn’t risk it, being a dad so soon wasn’t worth it regardless of how good it would feel. That and he only wanted to have sex raw with you, no one else. “Are you on the pill?”
“I got a coil put in last year.” You shudder at the memory and pain. It was easily in the top 5 most uncomfortable moments you went through, but right now you’re glad you got it.
“Did you fuck guys without a condom?” His voice is hurt and his arms drop to his side, face frowning. Jaeyun didn’t want anyone else’s cock feeling your walls the way he did. It was his pleasure to have, not anyone else
You quickly shake your head sit up more alert than before, hands flying to your chest as if to swear on your heart. “Oh god no, baby. My periods got like, really really bad. I got the IUD because they said it would help.” How could he think that? You couldn’t do that to him.
Seeing him physically relax eases your own mind. “Okay, good. I was worried there for a second.”
“You never fucked Yeoreum without one?” Her name leaving your lips leaves a bitter feeling in your mouth and his ears. He mumbles a ‘no of course not' and throws the probably expired condom back into the drawer. 
Jaeyun walks towards you with a small smile on his face, relief evident. Now he can make love to you with full confidence that he is, and will be, the only man to ever truly feel you. He steps out of his boxers and you’re almost salivating at the sight, drool threatening to drip down your chin. You’ve missed it so much.
You reach your hand out but he slaps it away lightly. Protesting with a soft ‘hey’ you go to touch him again but it’s the same result.
“Princess, I love that you wanna gag around my cock but I need to be inside you, like, right now.” Your walls throb at his words. His effect on you and your body needs to be studied one of these days.
Before you know it, he’s pushing you to lay on your back, kissing all over your face and neck, each kiss meaning more than the last.
“You’re hearts beating,” You say quietly as he sucks on the sweet spot just under your ear.
“Yeah baby, kinda how I stay alive,” Feeling his smile on your neck as his tongue licks you gets you even wetter than before, if that was possible, “I didn’t miraculously turn into Edward Cullen.” 
“A girl can dream,” You joke. A slap across your pussy makes you yelp and open your eyes wide. “What was that for?”
Shrugging, Jaeyun smirks, “For thinking about another guy.”
“You brought him u-”
Slap.
The stinging on your pussy brings you to a halt. “Stop that!” 
Slap
You can’t deny how much it’s turning you on, the groan that slips from your lips plasters a smirk on Jaeyun’s face. “Be a good girl, yeah?” His hand goes back to your pussy to soothe the nipping.
Having sex like this again was invigorating for him, he missed this so much. He missed you. 
Replacing his hand with his dick he starts to collect your wettness on the tip of his cock. He looks into your eyes for permission to go and as soon as you nod he slips the head of his cock in. “Fuck.” 
The pace is slow as he takes in the feeling of your cunt hugging him so tight, fitting him like a glove. When he pulls back, the tip snags on your hole and he repeats this until your begging him for more. “Babe please, faster.” 
He speeds up, his hips driving into you as he bottoms out each time he lunges forward, his head pecking kisses to your cervix. He’s so deep in you, that the unfamiliar familiar feeling begins to overwhelm you. Jaeyun’s pubic bone is lightly hitting your overstimulated clit and it’s making you thrash under him. “Jae-Jaeyun please,” 
“What is it, baby?” The soft-spoken tone of his words is a juxtaposition to his relentless thrusts that are battering your cunt. 
“Close.” If it was any other time, you would be embarrassed at how fast you’re cumming again, but Jaeyun would understand. He does. 
Jaeyun spits on your folds and rubs it in, focusing on your clit to bring you over the edge. The sensations are too overwhelming, between his fingers roughly rubbing your bud and his cock bruising your walls, it’s all too much and you’re cumming for the third time that day. 
The squeeze of your walls nearly has Jaeyun spilling into you but he wants this to last a little longer. “That’s it, Princess. Cumming over my cock so well,” He kisses your forehead, “Such a perfectly good girl for me.” 
Jaeyun’s lips trail down your face to your neck to your tits, his mouth taking in your right nipple. “Fucking hell, Jaeyun.” He can’t hear you because he’s too busy sucking your tit and losing himself in consuming you. 
His hips are jackhammering into you and you can’t think straight, your mind is foggy, mouth wide open, eyes have rolled back, and hands aimlessly gripping at his back and arms. You haven’t been fucked like this in years, hell, you don’t think you and Jaeyun have ever had sex as good as this. 
Jaeyun mentally agrees with you as he starts to lose his rhythm but still gives you his all. His mouth leaves your nipple as he buries his head in the crook of your neck, “Fuck, Y/N, can’t hold back anymore.”
Despite his energy depleting, his thrusts are still sharp and his hands are holding you down by your hips, leaving you no option but to just lay there and take his powerful hits. Not that you minded, this is exactly how you like it.
You don’t truly believe it but you think you might cum again. To make sure you get there in time with him you reach down and rub yourself, mewling loudly in his ear at the feeling. 
Jaeyun’s head peaks up to look at you, “You gonna cum with me, Sweetheart?” The nickname isn’t used often but when he does whisper it, it’s your favourite one.
“Y-yes oh god yes.” 
Jaeyun kisses you hungrily as your words help him spill his seed into you, the white strings shooting straight into you and it mixes with your own release. You both chant each other's names along with some expletives, Jaeyun dropping in 2 ‘I love you’s’ just for added measure.
A few minutes later once you both had time to compose yourselves, Jaeyun falls to the side of you and stares at the ceiling. He was so content with everything in this moment. You are back in his arms, he’s just had the best sex of his life, and his heart finally feels like it’s beating with a purpose other than just living. It’s beating for you and that is the best feeling in the world.
“I love you, Jaeyun.” You turn your face to the side to look at him, eyes smiling softly. 
He takes your hand and lays a kiss on top of it. “I love you too, Y/N.” 
None of you have to say any more than that right now. It’s enough.
He sits up and inspects your body, some bruises were his fingers dug in too deep forming and he frowns. He didn’t mean to go so hard but quite frankly he wouldn’t take it back.
“I’ll be back in a minute.” Planting a kiss on your head he makes a b-line for downstairs, grabbing a glass of water and some paracetamol for you. 
When he comes back, you’re sitting up, leaning against the headboard with your eyes shut. You’re the perfect view. 
“Here, baby.” After handing you the water and pills he puts his boxers back on and gives you the black t-shirt from earlier. “Almost forgot we’re literally still at your parent's house.” His neck turns red.
“I don’t even know where they are?” You place the water on the windowsill next to your bed and pull the top over your head. Jaeyun hums and stays sitting at the edge of the bed with his head down. Gently your hand makes contact with his shoulder, “Babe? You okay?”
“You’re mine again, right?” He side eyes you because he’s too nervous to look directly at you, “Like, you’ll come to Busan with me and be my girl again?”
Your heart summersaults and you smile reassuringly. You couldn’t imagine ever being away from him again. You made that mistake the first time but never again, “I will. I’ll need to finish up Uni but that’s only a few months.” Grabbing his chin you turn him to you, “Then I’ll be home with you.”
Home. Your home.
“Marry me.” 
“What? Haven’t you had enough wedding drama for a while?”
“I’m serious!” He laughs and looks at the ceiling, thinking deeply, “Not right now, but when we’re settled. Be my wife?”
The only thing you can do is kiss him as confirmation, too overwhelmed by pure emotions to give him a verbal answer. This is truly all you’ve ever wanted.
He pulls back and smiles widely. “Wait here!” In the next few seconds, Jaeyun shoved his t-shirt on and pranced downstairs and out the front door. What is he doing? 
Hearing his car door open and shut you impatiently wait for him to come back. It doesn’t take long but why is it when you want them to hurry up time suddenly slows down. With his hands behind his back, he enters your bedroom once again. 
“Y/N L/N,” He coughs before he starts again, “I love you more than anything else in the whole world. You’re so stupid and annoying, and honestly, you’re mean.” 
Wow, you think, he’s such a charmer. 
“But you’re mine. My everything to be quite honest. I could have everything in the world and if you’re not by my side there really is no point in any of it.” He sits down beside you on the bed, hands still clasped behind him, “So, would you do me the great honour of marrying me in the distant, but please make it near, future?”
He moves his hands to the front of him and you tear up. Is it what you think it is?
Trembling, your hands take the white box and stare at it. It takes you a moment to gather up the courage to open it but when you do it’s like it opens a floodgate of tears as they ricochet down your cheeks.
The pinky ring he gave you the night before you left shines in front of you. He kept it all these years later. Jaeyun didn’t know why quite honestly because it only served as a hurtful memory. But as he sees you ogle at it, he realises it was exactly for this moment.
“My speech the first time was better I think.” Jaeyun jokes and you choke out a little sob. Taking the ring from the box he slips it onto your left pinky. It still fits perfectly. Just like you and Jaeyun. “So? Will you?”
“Yes.” Nodding your head and wiping your tears with your free hand you give him the answer he’s been waiting to hear his whole life, “I’ll marry you. Eventually.”
His forehead rests against yours. “I’m gonna love you forever.”
“Until the sun stops burning?”
“Until the sun stops burning."
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b0nelessdoodles · 2 years
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i was gonna try something new but then realized that last week i deleted the reference i had for it and have no idea how to get it back
because last week me said i didn’t need it so oops
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your-nanas-house · 5 months
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Rum, champagne and other excuses
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◇ Pairing: Cillian Murphy X fem friend!Reader
◇ Warnings: fluff, sadness, smut, anger, trope friends to lovers, cheating, Cilly is divorced and Y/n in an unhappy marriage
◇ Summary: An unhappy married Y/n spends Christmas with her friend Cillian Murphy.
◇ Note: Another wonderfulllll collaboration with @mrkdvidal1989. Third fic of the new "event" 'From love to Love'. Go check it! 🥺
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Ding, dong. The doll bell rang, and Y/n dried her hands with the kitchen cloth, so that she could fix her styled hair and Christmas dress before rushing quickly to the door, to let the guest in. She already knew who was standing outside in the cold. She could see in her mind's eye his silhouette, wearing one of his winter coats with his face hidden by the hood and his neck covered by a rich scarf.
As she walked to the front door, a smile slowly appeared on her face at the thought of his baby blue eyes being even more bright because of the reflection of the snow in them. His eyes really were her favourite place to seek comfort in, ever since their friendship developed. After some time, they were very close friends. The young woman stopped a moment to take in the sight in the mirror, she really tried her best and she didn’t even know why, but the way her hair were styled, the dress that hugged her mature curves was amazing, just like the soft make-up she put on just made her best features stand out in a soft but lovely way. She tried her best to look wonderful. 
Y/n’s hand wrapped around the door knob, twisting it before she opened it with a bright smile on her face.
“Just in time” she praised mockingly in a playful manner, opening the door wider and letting Cillian enter her house. Exchanging looks, they smiled as she offered to take his coat, hanging it on the hook. Without waiting she made her way back to the kitchen, knowing well that Cillian was more than familiar with her house. He wouldn't get lost or feel uncomfortable.
Y/n didn't wait longer than a couple minutes before the blue eyed man joined her, hands hidden in his pockets as he studied all the food prepared for them… a dish with sliced cheese catching his interest almost immediately.
“This looks amazing, Y/n” He praised with all honesty, smiling and showing off the dimples in his cheeks. As they started talking, Cillian started stealing the cheese from the topping, pretending to be innocent as she turned to reply, catching him red handed. Small, scolding yet amused smile creeping on her face involuntarily.
“Don’t worry, help yourself” she joked, earning a soft chuckle from him as he took more cheese from the dish, without worrying to upset her or ask for another clarification.
They looked at each other for a moment, both smiling slightly, it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence but a peaceful one… a special one, one that you can have with just a few people without feeling unease by the situation.
“Hope you’re hungry because there’s a lot to eat today” she broke the silence, giggling at her information as she showed and listed all the various options for the Christmas Eve dinner. Coming finally to the drinks by opening a cabinet of her house “So…” she started, searching “we have champagne.. and surprisingly.. rum,wine and.. beer” She listed, looking in his direction as she remained bent down. With her eyes fixed on the contents of the cabinet, she couldn't have noticed the way his eyes lazily travelled down her body, taking in everything he could before snapping quickly out of the trance, embarrassed by the urge. 
“Beer sounds pretty good to me” he replied, watching her rush to the fridge to take it for him “You’re lucky this time, I went to the mall in the morning to grab a few bottles of Guiness just for you” she smiled playfully, grabbing one from the fridge to pour it carefully in the glass, tilting it to the side, and letting the liquid slide along the glass of the tumbler, creating that way a lovely foam that reached the edge of the glass. Cillian sighed with satisfaction at the sight. 
”So classy” He commented with a cocked eyebrow looking at her, impressed. ”I still haven't ever met anyone that would pour Guinness better than you.” His tone of voice carried a hint of flirtiness in it, making Y/n’s cheeks turn pink. 
”Hey! Don't!” She chuckled, pointing at him with a warning. 
Cillian often would flirt with her purposely to make her blush, which was always an endless source of joy for him. 
”Alright, alright.” He replied, lifting his arms up in surrender. 
The conversation quickly took a turn on the new play that Cillian was starring in, written by Enda Walsh, their good friend that introduced Y/n to him, soon after his divorce with his previous wife.
Y/n was still sadly stuck in an unhappy marriage, her husband away from work probably busy spending Christmas with women he considered ‘hot chicks’. The women he always considered better. Prettier. Smarter. 
She didn’t mind though, after wasting all the tears on the bastard that would never change, crying her heart out at night, or even at Cillian's shoulder it had become normal. Something that didn’t hurt her anymore. Their marriage was already.. dead, after years of breaking, rotting away. Y/n spent enough time grieving it.
That’s the main reason because she allowed herself to become more attached to the sweet man that was standing in her kitchen, their bond strong and pure. Their friendship was one of the main reasons she survived the worst nights. 
“Is it just you and me?” Cillian asked suddenly and carefully, not wanting to upset her on that special night of the year, by addressing the situation she was in with her yet husband. 
Little smile appeared on his face as she replied in a light-hearted tone, her face remaining neutral, not bothered at all by his question. 
“Mhhm! Just you and me and… all this food” She added with a giggle, pointing at the counter before she started bringing everything to the living room “I made sure to prepare things that we could easily eat while sitting on the sofa, so we can watch a movie or.. just talk.” she hummed, preparing the coffee table.
The older man nodded softly, taking a seat on the soft, comfortable sofa, helping her set everything on the table before finally leaning back and relaxing too— his beer glass clicking against her own, a symbol of the beginning of their dinner.
”Cheers” He said, shooting her that cheeky smile of his. The one reaching his eyes. 
Y/n rolled her eyes with a giggle. 
”Cheers, Cilly.”
~~~
The evening passed smoothly, the food got eaten in less than four hours, and soon enough they were both sitting on the couch facing each other. Half a bottle of wine left from all the drinks they had. The alcohol was already working pretty well as they chatted away about everything and nothing. Cillian's eyes shone lightly, his cheeks red and lips stretched in a smile as he listened to the story. 
“I was around.. seventeen when it happened” Y/n giggled, barely containing her laughter “we went out for a family lunch, I was out with my grandpa and my siblings.. in a very nice place, you know those kind of cozy places that you just see and you’re like “fuck yes, I need to go there.”  We went there all together and this cute guy kept serving our table, he even stopped to talk with my grandpa” she continues, rambling about it, her eyes fixed on the ceiling “...and when we were about to leave, my grandpa moved his hand calling him over and trying to set a date between me and this guy, telling him that I thought he was cute and this kind of stuff” She giggled again, remembering that day “and he was all like “Yes, she thinks you’re cunt” she laughed harder due to the alcohol in her body before calming finally down, turning her head towards him to continue the rambling “the guy… the guy” she murmured, catching her breath while losing herself in his eyes. Cillian was resting close to her, his head on his fist as he kept listening to her without interrupting, his eyes staring at her in amazement… she was so beautiful when she looked like that, no worries, just rambling about life with pure joy in her beautiful eyes…. And he was leaning in now, his gaze shifting onto her lips, then back to her eyes, making her do the same automatically.
They both took a deep breath before Cillian closed his eyes, resting his forehead on hers, their noses brushed against each other in a tender eskimo kiss. Y/n was completely frozen, barely breathing at how close they were. The warmth from his body was making her feel even more drunk. She didn't dare to make the first move, but didn't have to wait for long as Cillian's patience suddenly ran thin.
”Fuck” He whispered before grabbing the back of her head, and pulling her face towards his, their lips connecting in a hungry, needy kiss. The tension that lingered around them for years suddenly finding an outlet. Y/n’s eyes fell shut immediately, letting him kiss her for a second before she tore away, shock written all over her face. Cillian's eyes were wide open at the realisation of what he did. 
”Look, I'm so sor-” He attempted to apologise, feeling badly for taking her signs wrong. ”I shouldn't have” he'd say, but out of nowhere Y/n’s hand grabbed the material of his shirt, connecting their lips again, while pushing him down onto the couch. 
Her body remained pressed against his, hands holding onto the fabric of his shirt while the kiss got more passionate— her tongue slipping in his mouth, exploring it as she hummed at the taste of the beer they had earlier.
Her body started to move unconsciously, making Cillian quickly grab her hips, his head tilting to the side reciprocating the kiss, then trying to connect their lips again, without success, as she moved away, keeping him down. 
Y/n broke them apart, moving slowly in a sitting position, her eyes staring at her friend’s desperate state, biting softly her bottom lip when she was his attempt. Her hands started to travel slowly down from his chest, reaching beneath his navel. With a few quick moves she managed to unbuckle it… Cillian’s breath getting heavier as she continued, now pulling them down with his help.
His pale freckled hands grabbed her hips again, sitting up before moving them down onto her smooth thighs. Brushing the skin just beneath the edge of her dress, before pulling it up carefully while looking her in the eyes, and as soon as he didn’t see any rejection in her eyes, her clothes were on the floor with his pants in less than a few seconds. He didn't waste any time, removing his shirt quickly as soon as Y/n finished unbuttoning it. The tension in his body was buzzing, making the erection in his briefs leak with precum like never before. Pulling her back down onto his lap, her clothed sex now pressing against him, making him hiss through his teeth at the sensation.
“‘M feeling like a teenager again” he breathed out through a soft chuckle, tilting his head back as soon as Y/n giggled breathless, grinding teasingly against him. “Fuck, fuck… Love—” he cursed, taking a hold of her hips to stop her movements, too excited to control himself.
Her eyes snapped back towards him, watching how his body shaked a bit and his grip tightened. “Did you….Did you just come?” Y/n asked, stunned, raising her body from his lap to look at the wet spot on Cillian’s grey undies, glancing back at his flushed and ashamed face. 
The actor tried to say something but she quickly shushed him with a hungry kiss, her hand slipping inside of his underwear, before grabbing his softening cock, pumping it while leaving wet kisses on his jawline down to his neck. Nibbling and sucking down on his Adam's apple, waiting for his cock to harden again, his cum helping her movements.
The woman stopped after a couple of minutes, watching Cillian’s body shake in pleasure and overstimulation, to move his underwear down his hairy and thick thighs, giving him a small squeeze before moving her head to the side; smiling softly when Cillian moved his hands down her hips, brushing the side of her thighs, following the lines of her stretch marks… pure admiration in his piercing baby blue eyes.
A soft sigh left her mouth as she got up slightly, rubbing the pink, leaking tip of his thick member against her entrance spreading the slickness before she slowly sunk down on his rock-hard cock, his eyes fluttering shut as his mouth hung open, his back arching as a low moan left his body. “Oh darling” he sighed in pleasure, holding her still so that he could get back his control and allow her to adapt at the new stretch. She hasn't had a cock inside of her for a while now and never one that thick. It felt so good, so fucking good, after the pain of stretching subsided. 
Y/n’s head lolled back as she grabbed his shoulders for support, sharp nail digging into his pale skin making him groan from the mixture of pleasure and pain. 
As soon as he started throwing her up and down on his shaft, the room filled up with loud moans, cries and whines that kept leaving her mouth, and which made it impossible for him to stop thrusting up to meet her halfway. 
Her body kept bouncing due to the thrusts of his hips, her hands reaching behind to free her round mature breasts from the restrictions of her bra, throwing it with the other clothes on the floor, allowing him to move closer. As soon as his breath fanned over her hardened nipples, the moans increased, becoming more high pitched, before she grabbed his head pulling it into her breasts. 
Without a second thought he started leaving wet kisses all over, sucking on her nipples while increasing the speed of thrusts. Y/n couldn't get enough of the muffled sounds coming from him, as she'd be able to come right there and then just because of it. 
”I'm.. I'm gonna…” She tried to stutter out as the knot in her stomach tightened, her walls clenching down on his cock so tightly, that his eyes fell shut and whine ripped out of his mouth as he mouthed on the skin of her breasts. 
”Fuck..” He breathed out, reaching for her clit, and rubbing quick circles on it while moving his hips faster, deepening the thrusts so much that his tip was softly nudging her cervix each time causing some pain and increasing the pleasure. 
Tears fell down her cheeks as her body shook, swallowed by the biggest orgasm she's ever had in her whole thirty three year old life, her eyes rolling her eyes back as she shook further, squirting on him. 
“Fuck, fuck” he cursed, letting a high pitched moan leave his mouth as he reached his own peak, shooting his load deep inside of her cunt. His baby blue eyes staring at their mixed fluids dripping down, wetting her sofa and their thighs.
Their deep breaths synchronise as they eyes locked, Y/n leaned slowly down, her bare chest pressed against his as she caught her breath. Breathing deeply and closing her eyes, the alcohol caused the sudden sleepiness that flooded her. 
After a couple minutes Cillian noticed it, and with a soft chuckle he carried her to the bedroom, laying by her side before he nodded off as well. 
~~~
As soon as Cillian opened his eyes, his arm involuntarily reached for Y/n that was supposed to be laying next to him, but his hand met only a cold spot on the sheets. His eyebrows furrowed with confusion as he ran hand through his hair, feeling a little hungover after the drinking and the mind blowing sex of the night before. His mood was great even though his head hurt a little bit. 
As soon as his vision became clear enough, he looked around the room, noticing Y/n pacing back and forth on the other side of the room, already fully dressed. Sitting up, he smiled.
”Merry Christmas, Darling.” Left his mouth with a thick accent, startling her. 
Y/n stood in one spot, frozen with an uncomfortable expression on her face. 
”Cillian..” She started off, shaking her head lightly as she hugged herself, trying to gather some confidence. He could see her defensive stance and bad mood right away, which got him worried. What happened? What did he do? Was it his fault?
”What’s wrong?” He asked, feeling uneasy, making Y/n sigh before hiding her face in her hands for a second, taking a deep breath before she straightened her back. 
”Cillian, we shouldn't have done that.” She said flatly, her face twisted in that distasteful expression, her eyes not daring to meet his piercing ones.
Seeing it Cillian's heart ached a little, as he processed what she just said. ”Wait.. what? Why?” He asked in complete confusion. The good mood that he woke up in disappeared in seconds. 
”Look, we just.. drank too much, okay? I'm married and.. and we're friends! Friends don't.. do that!” She stated, frustration showing clear as a day. Cillian shook his head in disbelief, not believing that his best friend was actually treating him like that. 
”Do what? Fuck?” He mocked out of anger, as he jumped out of the bed, picking up clothes from the floor as he started dressing up in a rush as the humiliation flooded his mind. ”You can lie to yourself, Y/n, but I've seen how you looked at me.” His tone was harsh, a feeling of betrayal blossoming in his heart. Buckling up his belt, he turned to face her. Taking a step closer, he leaned down being eye to eye with her. ”You wanted me as much as I wanted you, but sure. Blame the fucking alcohol and be the coward that you are right now. I'm out.” He spat out in anger, feeling foolish for believing that there was something special between them. Maybe she actually... loved him back. 
Before she managed to say anything back, he passed by her in the doorway without a word, leaving a path of the gorgeous scent of his cologne behind before she heard the front door slam shut. 
Fuck.
~~~ 
Y/n’s heart was beating like crazy, hammering against her chest as she kept jogging, her eyes looking everywhere to find the short man she used to call best friend before their argument.
After that morning, they didn’t try to contact each other again, and… she deserved it. She knew well why he remained silent and didn't contact her after the bad morning they spent together. Y/n had several days to think about everything, and it didn't take long to realise that.. she panicked. Sex with Cillian was the first time she ever “cheated” on her “husband” and first sex she had for many years. Pushing him away was a knee jerk reaction that she regretted as soon as she saw the betrayal and heartbreak in his beautiful eyes. 
But at this point, it was too late. At least that's what she thought, until she realised that… she wouldn’t be able to move on from him. Cillian was her home. 
After spending a week crying her eyes out and telling her husband that she’s divorcing, Y/n was determined. Determined to fix what she ruined with fear and panic, and let the love of her life know what she felt for him. 
The occurrences were still playing freshly in her mind, his words, her words… the look of pure sadness in his gorgeous eyes.
She was running miles when she finally spotted him, wearing the same coat he had on that night, he looked even smaller, his body all tense and closed because of the wind that was blowing around them.
“Cillian!” she screamed, running faster to catch up with him, her heartbeat now hammering in her ears “Cillian!” she repeated desperately, tears starting to cover her view, her head up and in his direction… distracting her from the street she was running on. 
A root was enough to make her stumble and fall down harshly on the ground, her hands trying to prevent any damage on her face, her heart was beating too fast and her state of panic didn’t allow her to realise that the man she was calling, stopped in his tracks and was now jogging towards her with a worried look.
“Fuck, Y/n! Are you alright?” he asked, reaching for her to check if there were any injuries, helping her carefully get up “Are you hurt? Do you feel pain anywhere?” he kept asking, his eyes studying her with worry. She just shook her head, hearing his voice, tears falling from her eyes as she moved closer, hugging him in desperation. More sobs and tears leaving her eyes.  
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry” she continue to repeat in a soft tone, kneeling slowly down to hug his legs devastated “I didn’t mean a single thing, Cillian—” she sobbed, not letting him speak “I fucking want you too!.. No I.. I want more than a fuck” Y/n looked quickly at him, tears covering her view again “I-I want more.. I love you” she continued, grabbing the fabric of his pants tighter “I can show you, I even left Brian for you” she added quickly, staring up at him from her kneeled position. He knew how difficult it was for her to end things with her now former husband, so it kind of made him smile.
”Y/n, get up.” He pleaded, grabbing her under her arms and pulling her onto her feet. Looking up and down again to make sure she wasn't injured from the fall. 
Sighing deeply he thought for a moment about her words, eyes widening at the realisation. “You mean it?” he whispered, staring down at her with his piercing blue eyes. 
The woman nodded softly, trying to not let her bottom lip tremble. “Yeah” she whispered, showing that she wasn’t actually wearing her wedding ring anymore.
A breathy laugh left Cillian’s mouth as he nodded, his hands holding her face softly to be able to kiss her. 
He kept gifting her with small pecks on her lips as they kept whispering soft promises to each other of the beginning of a relationship, the promises to give the other what their previous partner didn’t want to give them, the promises of a happy life and pure, cruel honesty every time.
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other-peoples-coats · 11 months
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struck by the idea where, For Reasons, plan saddest desert hermit doesn't get off the ground and team proto-rebellion have to pivot and pivot fast.
chucking the conspiracy equivalent of a uey at 100mph on the highway, and everyone involved is sleep deprived, stressed as fuck, and experiencing y'know, several levels of Devastating Grief.
the person with the brain cell is bail organa, a man who in canon spends like 20 fucking years playing ding dong ditch with a genocidal psychic space wizard and his boss, an even more genocidal space wizard. This man is not lacking in gumption, one can say. he is possessed of life threatening amounts of chutzpah, one might also say, except that he spends twenty years winning the ding dong ditch match with, again, a genocidal fascist dictatorship which includes two genocidal psychic space wizards who literally know he was in tight with the genocided group of space wizards plus the [mumble] number of other murderous genocidal space wizards, plus the rest of the non-space wizard space fascist cohort.
So. What does a man with a spine of steel, a heart as big as a planet, and more gumption than anyone should possess do, when plan 'split up the kids and hide the most famous man in the galaxy on the saddest hell planet' is a no go?
lie. lie like a fucking rug.
What's palpatine going to do? day one of the empire, his super awesome chosen one space wizard makeover project is still in progress and not yet wheezing his way into the galaxy's nightmares, and bail fucking organa strolls into the imperial senate with:
one (1) baby (female)
one (1) baby (male)
several (~20+) aides and various hangers on, including;
one (1) brown haired blue eyed man who could, if you squinted a bit, probably get third place in a general kenobi lookalike competition, were those now not super duper illegal
Sidious, of course, could be like A JEDI KILL HIM TRAITOR ETC, but, crucially, his wheezing attack dog is still on the lab table getting seven inches added to his height and cup holders installed, or whatever the fuck skeevy sheev added in as extras. Palpatine is an old guy who is still trading on being A Beloved Grandfather who was Reluctant To Take The Throne, and is still easing the galaxy into the whole, y'know, we're a fascist empire now, kneel or perish.
Palpatine, on day one of the empire, can't point at bail fucking organa and be like HABOURING A TRAITOR unless he is really, really sure, like 110% sure, because it's bail fucking organa and every goddamn senator will baulk like a horse at a plastic bag if he accuses, again, the senator of alderaan of high treason on day one of the empire.
A secret rebellion is fine, if not ideal; you can theoretically stamp it out, and, also, it's small, percentage wise.
The entire fucking galaxy thinking that, hey, if the guy in charge is going to go after fucking alderaan, what's to stop him going after us? bigger problem. huge problem. original trilogy kinda touched on that one. Day one of the empire, everyone is still basically on war footing, and fuck man, if alderaan is copping it....maybe this empire isn't great after all. maybe we can make our OWN empire, with a different emperor.
Would palps win? eh maybe. would it destroy all credibility forever and ever amen? yeah. the difference between a 'legally installed emperor' and 'a dictator we must overthrow' is how willing the galaxy is to lick boot, and there's not yet the fear of The Empire black bagging you to keep those tongues going.
so. palpatine can't say shit. palpatine can imply shit, palpatine can get his lackies to say shit. but, crucially, palpatine himself can't say fuck all about the goddamn kenobi lookalike that is now following after organa and wiping his kid's little butts and playing gofer and whatever else.
and what's more believable? bail fucking organa is hiding a traitor, or bail organa and his wife have a situationship with a guy who looks sort of a bit like a former general? the same kind of situationship that like, half the senate has had at one point or another with a guy (or guys) who looked sort of a bit like said ex-general. go to any high level business and/or political building, you'll find half a dozen guys who look vaguely like said hot ex-general, and many of them will have a more or less (often less) accurate coruscanti-ish accent. or will develop one.
(hey, it's a niche. gotta pay the bills somehow, and if you get the job because you dyed your hair and grew a beard, well, you're still using your political science degree, right?)
of course, that only holds for so long, but by that point it's been, y'know, a while. and that looks worse in a different way -- what, kenobi was fucking walking around in front of the whole imperial senate, and none of them noticed? absolutely not, all credibility is gone forever.
which means. that palpatine and the organas are stuck in a full on staring match about this guy who is 100% for sure not kenobi, because -- well. he can't be kenobi. becuase that would look bad. but also. it's kenobi. but also. it can't be kenobi.
(vader takes one look at this guy who looks like his master kenobi and then rolls his eyes, because he has already met aproximately 90,000 people who look vaugely like his master and he got very good at picking out how the newest one was not kenobi his master by the time he was a senior padawan.)
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HELLO. smut request: ari + thigh riding (but make it a punishment). that is all. BYE
That Ain't Workin' Tonight
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PAIRINGS: Ari Levinson x Girlfriend!Reader
WARNINGS: Swearing, allusions towards unprotected sex (my loves, please wrap your man's ding-dong before hopping on it), Daddy kink, nipple sucking, mentions of cum, squirting, THIGH RIDING!! (an absolute fave) (If I missed anything out, please feel free to DM me 😊)
WORD COUNT: 1,620
ENJOY!
Stumbling into the apartment, you toe your heels off clumsily. And the fact that you are slightly intoxicated is not helping you at all.
Being the top employee at your firm, you finally got the promotion you worked your ass for. And your girls wanted to treat you to a night out.
You couldn’t deny that the idea of having a night where you didn’t have to think about work was entirely enticing.
So, you kissed your boyfriend goodbye and told him a rushed ‘don’t wait up’ before slipping out of your shared apartment.
Ari was all for you having a fun night with your girls, but what he was not having was you not answering any of his texts.
The 6’3 man knows his woman can handle herself, but still, he can’t help but feel the need to check up on you every hour.
And his worry just increases tenfold when you don’t even come online for the rest of the night. He checked your location, and it stayed constant throughout the entire time, which calmed his thoughts by a milligram. But still.
So, there he sat on the couch, waiting for you to get home.
And you finally did.
“Why didn’t you answer my texts, sweetheart?” His arms are crossed over his chest as he looks over at you.
The short cotton-red dress stops at your knees and flays around your hips every time you move your body a certain way.
You hiccup before you answer, “I was out, Ari. I told you, baby.” The alcohol still in your veins made you a little woozy, so you stumbled again and almost fell. But if it wasn’t for the counter in the open kitchen, you would’ve fallen.
“Sweetheart,” he says, getting up from the couch and making his way to you. When he does, he softly grabs you by your shoulders and redirects you to the living room. He walks with you and sits you down before crouching in front of your body.
“I can walk by myself, mister.” You pout and cross your arms, your drunken state still possessing your body.
Ari chuckles and takes a hold of your chin, sweeping his thumb over your pouted bottom lip.
“You didn’t answer my question, sweetheart,” he says with a serious face, looking at you with that look.
And you instantly sober up.
You’re in trouble.
“I-, I was-,” you’re a mess trying to form any sort of sentence; you squirm in your seat under the stare of your boyfriend.
Ari tsk’s, “not the answer I wanted, sweetheart.” He caresses the side of your face before tucking a stray piece of your hair behind your ear.
“Tell me. Why didn’t you answer my texts?” He says it slowly, like trying to make sure you get how mad he is.
“Didn’t see ‘em,” you whisper, placing your hands on your thighs. Ari hums disappointedly, “it ain't like you to ignore texts, sweetheart.”
“I'm sorry, Ari. I didn’t mean to.” You think you can get away with this? Throw on some charm and innocence. You know your man loves that.
“Ah, ah, ah. That ain’t workin’ tonight, sweetheart,” he says, shaking his head, his hand trailing down to encompass the column of your throat. You inhale sharply and squirm even more in your position.
“You know, I’m not really happy, princess,” he says, trailing his other hand up your leg and skimming the area around your knee. “You’ve been a bad girl tonight, yeah?” He nods at you, expecting an answer.
You know this version of Ari, and this version is the one you can’t say no to either.
You nod as a response, afraid that your voice might crack with anticipation if you utter a word.
“Words, baby. Daddy needs to hear you speak, sweetheart,” he says, tightening his grip slightly around your neck and making you gasp as your eyes slightly close shut at the sensation.
And in a moment, everything changes.
You don’t know how, but suddenly Ari’s moving, and you’re sitting on his lap. He moves his hands up and down your thighs, slowly inching your dress higher and higher.
He groans at the sight of the lacey, nude underwear you have on. “All so dolled up, huh?” He leans in and starts kissing at that one spot below your ear, grazing his teeth on your skin.
You shudder and whimper at the feeling. Your hands move to grip his broad shoulders, and you whine into the crook of his neck.
He chuckles as he continues to abuse the expanse of your neck with his bruising kisses.
“Daddy was going to treat his baby tonight; he knows how hard you worked for that promotion.” He hooks his fingers at the hem of your underwear and drags them off before flinging them somewhere in your apartment.
You let out a soft moan, “Ari.” He grips your thighs hard. You're pretty sure there’s going to be a bruise there in the morning. “Don’t think that’s right, pretty girl,” he says, smacking your thigh gently, and you gasp. “Daddy, please.” You throw your head back and beg at the man in front of you. "There we go," he smirks.
You move your hips to grind at the clothed tent forming beneath his cotton shorts, but Ari looks at you with a slightly disapproving face.
His hands immediately go to your hips, and he moves you to sit on top of one of his thick, muscled thighs.
"Oh, sweetheart, you got to earn my cock tonight,” he smirks at you before settling in and leaning back on the couch.
You blush at the comment and gulp, “I-I don’t know what you mean, Daddy.” Ari chuckles. “Oh, I think you do, princess.”
He leans in and captures your lips in a heated kiss. You run your hands through his hair and grip at the roots. He growls and bites your lower lip, making you moan softly.
Ari grabs your hips yet again and starts to move you back and forth on his thigh.
“Ride my thigh, baby,” he growls against your lips.
You nod and go back to grab his shoulders. Then you start to move yourself up and down on his thigh, you moan at the friction you feel against your sensitive little button, and you start moving faster.
“Yeah. That feels good, baby?” Ari roams his hands all over your body, caressing and groping every inch of you that is and isn’t covered.
He unbuttons the front of your dress and lets it fall off your shoulders, and he groans at the sight of your boobs moving in tandem with your humping.
He reaches for your back and unhooks your bra. He takes it off for you and throws it somewhere. Then he dips his head in and takes one of your pebbeld nipples into his mouth and starts sucking hard.
You grip onto his hair for dear life as you move your hips over his muscular leg, and your moans get louder and higher in pitch as you feel your slick coat his thigh.
“Daddy, it feels so good,” you whine, and you throw your head back, biting your lip, trying to quiet your moans.
“Nuh uh, baby, non’ a that lip-biting business,” he lightly taps your cheek. “Let me hear you how good I make you feel,” he says, starting to lightly bounce his leg, and it’s game over for you.
“Oh fuck!” You drop your head onto his shoulder and start to drag your pussy on his hairy thigh. The wet squelching of your cunt makes the tent in Ari’s pants incredibly painful to resist.
“Daddy, daddy, please. I’m going to come,” you whine harder against his shoulder and yell when you feel his calloused thumb rubbing at your clit.
Your moans are high and shrill, as you are near your climax.
“Attagirl, that’s it. Make daddy proud; make a mess on my leg,” he presses down on your clit and rubs at a speed you didn’t think even existed. He switches breasts and starts his assault on the other one.
The band in your core snaps, and you squirt all over his thigh and soak his shorts. Your juices drip onto the floor and also stain his cotton shirt.
“Shit, m’ sorry, daddy,” you pout. Ari makes a final suck before popping off, then he shakes his head and smiles. "Nah, you did a good job, princess. You made Daddy proud,” he says, wiping his index and middle fingers up and down his thigh, gathering your release before popping them into his mouth and sucking them clean.
You whimper at the lewd sight, “daddy.”
“What do you want, baby girl?" Ari rubs your thigh; he picks you up effortlessly and walks the both of you to your shared bedroom.
He softly lays you down on your bed and takes off his shirt. When he sees you bite your lip, he smirks. “Ready to take Daddy’s cock, sweetheart? Ready to be a good girl?”
You nod hard, so adamant to feel him stretch you out.
You eagerly, and messily, take off your dress and drop it to the floor before shimming down so you lay flat.
Ari chuckles at your neediness. He takes off his shorts and pulls out his leaking cock from his boxers.
His manhood slaps his toned abs, and his puffy mushroom is blaring red and is shiny with his pre-cum. He spits on his hand and holds on to his shaft, moving his hand up and down.
He leans over you and kisses your nose before pushing your knees apart and settling in between them.
Ari chuckles as he slaps his tip on your entrance. “Open up f’me, sweetheart.”
💌💌💌
@yiiiikesmish
Mishhh, this ask!!! Love when horny girlies come together to be horny together.😌😌😌
Again, requests are open lovelies :)
Till' then
Stay Coquette-y,
Anya 🫶🏽🕊️🎀
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juanarc-thethird · 1 month
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Topic Idea based on Coco x Jaune Househusband: Jaune being asked to be the house husband of Winter?
Jaune's Apartment
*Ding Dong!*
Jaune: *Opens the door* Oh Winter! I'm glad you came.
Winter: No problem, thanks for inviting me to your get together. (This way I can see if you are worthy of my little sister)
Jaune: Thanks to you for coming, please come in.
Winter enters and sees that she is the first to arrive.
Jaune: The others don't take long to arrive. At the moment can I offer you something? Water, lemonade, um… Beer? I don't know if you drink or not.
Winter: *She keeps looking around* A lemonade is fine.
Jaune: Great, just a moment.
Winter: (He's attentive, that's good. Good start Jaune, good start)
While Jaune prepares the drink, Winter begins to inspect everything. He checks the furniture for dust, the windows for dirt, and even the floor for a hint of trash. But nothing, everything is clean. As if it were done by a professional.
Winter: (His apartment looks clean. My little sister would be comfortable living here.)
Jaune: Here is your lemonade.
He says as he approaches her to hand it to her.
Winter: *takes the glass* Thank you. By the way, who do you hire to clean your apartment?
Jaune: Nobody, I do everything myself.
Winter: Wait, you cleaned this apartment squeaky clean? You alone?
Jaune: Yes, it's something I learned living with 7 sisters. They really were a pain in the ass when it came to cleaning.
Winter: *Surprise* Wait, you were in charge of your household chores?
Jaune: Yeah, I was the one who cleaned the house, did the laundry, and even cooked.
Winter: *Curious* But your mom helped you, right? (It can't be possible for him to do everything alone.) *She puts her glass cup on a nearby table*
Jaune: Ahaha… *he laughs nervously*. Well, she's not very good at chores, so to speak. My dad and I were the ones who kept the house clean. But my dad works, so I did most of it.
Winter: (Wait so...) *Gets closer* So you know how to clean stains?!
Jaune: Ye-Yeah
Winter: *Closer* How about bathtub stains?!
Jaune: *Trying to move away* Th-That too
Winter: *Closer!* How about sewing?! Do you know how to do that too?!
Jaune: *Against the wall* M-My sisters always ripped their favorite clothes, so y-yeah.
Winter: (Oh my God! He is the perfect househusband! Weiss would be…! Weiss? Why does Weiss deserve such a man?)
Jaune: Um..Winter?
Winter: *Back to reality* Huh?
Jaune: Y-You are too close
Winter: Too close? *Gasp!* (Too close to my destiny!)
She takes both of Jaune's hands, drops to one knee, and with a voice of desire and hope she says.
Winter: Jaune Arc…
Jaune: *confuse* What are you doing?
Winter: would you marry me?
Jaune: *Red* Eh?!
At the time Winter said that, Nora and Ren were already entering the apartment using the extra key that Jaune gave them.
Nora: Hey Jaune, we brought the…
The two groups stare at each other
Nora: We'll come back later.
She says as she starts to close the door to leave them alone. But Jaune runs towards them and stops them.
Jaune: I-It's not what it looks like! There's nothing going on between us!!!
Winter: *Looking at him with desire* (Yet~💕)
---------
I look at Winter as a person who focuses on her work and family first before herself, and looks for the most efficient. That's why she looks for the best candidate for her sister. But what if that candidate is great for her? Love may not be the most important thing to her, but it's not something she's not willing to try~
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oh-koenig-my-koenig · 3 months
Text
gaming with him
(cw: they play a shooter video game (might contain inaccuracies); age gap 25/41, nsfw, MDNI, smutty smutt with some butt stuff, bit of spanking; evolving their dynamic a little more)
the part before: talking on the phone
Ding dong.
Oh, that must be him. I put the ladle down and hurry to the front door. I open it up and his tall stature is filling the whole doorframe. His broad shoulders, the worn leatherjacket almost brushing the sides.
“Hi.”, he says, smiling at me, his long dark hair falling to the front as he looks down at me.
“Hi.”, I smile up at him and step to the side to let him in.
He almost hits his head when he steps through the door, the top of his hair brushing even as he ducks down. “Ah shit.”, he curses, and I laugh, before I get cut off by his lips on mine. A short, but big kiss.
“Sorry, my apartment isn’t made for giants.”, I say, as I close the door behind him.
He pulls of his shoes, the huge combat boots falling to the floor, before he puts them neatly on the shoe rack.
“I noticed that. Your bed is so tiny, last time I actually hit my head when I woke up.”, he tells me, a jokingly pouty grimace contorting his serious features.
“Awww, you need me to put a kiss on it?.”, I say, teasing him.
But he actually bows down until I see the top of his head. I laugh again, grabbing his face, coming closer to press my lips to his hair with his loud smooch.
“Better now?”, I ask, when he straightens back up.
“Much better.”, he says, shedding the leatherjacket, hanging it up right next to mine.
“Any other body parts you need kissed better?”, I tease him. And I half suspect him to just whip his dick out. I mean, I wouldn’t mind.
“Doncha know it.”, is all he says, while wiggling his eyebrows at me.
I roll my eyes, not being able to stop grinning. "Come on, big guy. I uh- actually cooked for us. I hope, that's okay.", I say.
He shoots me an amused look. "You cooked, how dare you.", he jokes with a serious expression on his face, following me to my kitchenette where the pasta is still bubbling away on the stove.
"No, it's uh veggie bolognese, so we can both eat it. I made it, so it has a bunch of protein, though.", I explain.
His hand strokes over my back until it rests against my waist, as he stops beside me. "I won't crumble into bits, if I don't have all of the macronutrients perfectly balanced for one meal. So, don't worry about that, okay?", he tells me.
I nod. "Okay.", giving the sauce another stir.
"Thanks for cooking for me.", he says.
I beam up at him. "You're welcome."
When the pasta is ready, I fix us two plates, a BIG portion for him and a smaller one for me, and we sit at the little table in my living room, that I barely use to eat at. Most of the days I just have dinner in front of my computer.
Mimi is not leaving him alone, the little minx totally enamored with the huge man, sitting on his lap while he eats. I offer to take her off his hands, but he refuses. The big metalhead with the black kitty that almost doesn’t show up against his dark clothes. Patting the small purring ball of fur, his big, tattooed fingers scratching her head, while he shovels the pasta into his face with the other one. It’s a picture for the gods. I lift my phone and snap a quick pic, his eyebrows shooting up at the same time as I press the shutter to save the moment.
After dinner I show him around my apartment which is done with a twirl around the main room and opening one door. I mean, he already knows the bedroom and the bath, so I don’t need to show them to him.
But I drag him into my “office” which is more like a hobby gaming room. It only has a desk and a bookshelf which isn’t anywhere near as impressive as his. He still inspects the books, his eyes lingering on my collection of classic romance novels and the anniversary edition of Lord of the Rings.
“I forgot the books I picked out at your place by the way.”, I comment.
“Pity.”, he says, shooting an amused look my way. “Seems like you have to drop by again someday.”
“Pity.”, I echo, grinning up at him.
He turns to look at me, sitting in my chair, and his gaze pans to the computer screen.
“So, games, huh?”, he asks, his voice sounding as vague as his question.
I chuckle. “Yeah, games.” I can see interest peek through the grimace on his face. “I have a lot. Too much, I can’t play them all. From Animal Crossing and Mario Kart, Baldur’s Gate and Witcher 3, to WoW, Counterstrike, ... Plus a bunch of strategy and puzzle games.”
“I don’t know what any of those games are, so you can tell me all about them.”, he says, leaning over the back of my chair.
“You never played any or just no shooter games?”, I ask him, recalling what we talked the night before on the phone.
He shrugs. “When I was younger, a friend of mine had a console where we played Super Mario, but yeah, didn’t have one of my own. Or a PC. And then later I didn’t really get into it anymore. You know, other stuff to do.”
“Yes, I see.”, I say, smiling up at him from my chair. “You wanna try?”
“Uh sure, but you gotta show me the controls.”, he answers.
I get up and let him take a seat. I want to scream (internally) when I see the big man in my gaming chair, his stature way too tall for one that is fitted to my size, almost bursting out of the seat. The backrest isn’t high enough to support his head. His thighs press against the armrests. It looks ridiculous, but he grins at me.
“So, Counterstrike? Or Animal Crossing?”, I quip, while I start the first game on my computer.
I put my headset on his head and show him how to move, the most important shortcuts. How to aim and shoot. And the ridiculous nature of our situation right now is everything but lost on me. I let him try the shooting range first, instead of queueing up for a match, I’m not a total monster.
He looks at the screen, inspecting all of the pistols and rifles. Starting to list stuff off as he goes through them, talking more than I ever heard him talk before. I just listen to him rambling like a madman who finally gets to talk about his hyperfixation as he explains the differences of the various types and models, the recoil, the spray. All the stuff I never bothered with when playing those games.
He finally found a few that are to his liking, and he chooses one of them.
Actually playing the game though? He fails miserably. Running into everything, like a bull in a china shop. He’s just aimlessly pressing buttons, his big fingers hitting more than one key on the keyboard all the time. If it was possible, he would have knocked everything over.
His shot? You couldn’t even call that aim. My small computer mouse is too small for his big hand, the sensitivity too high for him. I dial it down a bit, which helps, and I try to coach him through it, telling him which buttons to press, but I can see that frustration sets in.
“Come on, you almost had it there.”, I cheer him on, as he misses another one of the targets.
He grabs me and pulls me into his lap. "You play, I'm better at this stuff in real life." and puts the headset on my head.
"Wait, I’m not sure the chair can support both our weight!", I say.
But he doesn't let go of me, letting his head rest on my shoulder and pulling me closer. "If it breaks, I'll buy you a new one, okay?", he grumbles.
"You mean like the panties you ruined?”, I ask pointedly, hiding a little grin. The panties he ripped while we were fucking and never replaced.
“Uh, maybe.”, he answers, his face contorting into an apologizing grimace.
I laugh a little at that. “I’m just teasing you.”, I say. Pushing the one side of the headphones back to hear him better.
I adjust the height of the seat and come closer to the desk again. His one arm snakes around my waist, while his other hand strokes down my thigh. The fingers softly squeezing the supple flesh. I try not to let it deter me, as I queue up for a new match.
I shoot him a look, but his eyes are fixed on the monitor as his thumb softly strokes over my inner thigh. The only hint that he's totally doing that on purpose, is the little twitch of his mouth.
The match loads up, and I look forward again. Choosing my weapons, waiting for the time to count down.
I wait for the teammates to spread out, following one of them down A. Trying to concentrate on the game while I can feel his hand inching further up, closer to my pussy. Teasing. Grazing over it, with his fingertips.
My breath halts in my throat, and I bite my lip not to make a sound. Not giving into it, not giving him the satisfaction.
I see the enemy duck behind the wall, lining up the rifle, waiting for his head to pop up again. A moment before I take the shot, his fingers stroke over my clit, pressing down on the sensitive nub. A choked back moan drops from my lips, and I lose my focus. I miss the shot entirely, cursing, dropping my cover and getting mowed down by another enemy teammate. He chuckles, pressing soft kisses to the side of the face, moving down to my neck.
"Seems like you got hit.", he murmurs, his hot mouth coasting over the soft skin, which sends shivers down my spine. I squirm against his lap, feeling his hard length press against my ass.
The next round starts up and he nudges me. "Come on, Liebes, it's starting again."
“Yeah, yeah.”, I groan, moving with his touches, while trying to play the game.
"You can do it.", he whispers, his breath hitting the shell of my ear. His huge hand, the one that has been sitting on my waist, slips under my shirt, until he reaches my tits. Pulling down the bra a bit and toying with my nipple. Stroking over it with his thumb, making it stiffen up. Rolling the pebbled tip between his fingertips. Pinching it. His other hand circles my clit, still over the cloth of the leggings, and I feel how my wetness seeps into my panties.
I whine and bite down on my lip, my eyes fixed on the screen, trying to find the enemies. But honestly, right now, I'm just glad, I didn't get the package, because my mind is distracted by his teasing touches.
It gets even worse to focus on the game when his fingers slip into my pants, down to my already soaked underwear. He hums softly as he strokes over the puffy wet lips, his digits sliding further down until they push inside me. Just one at first, then quickly the second.
“I have a confession.”, he whispers, the voice dark and needy, as he works himself inside me slowly, stretching me.
“What confession?”, I ask, sounding breathy.
“I couldn’t stop thinking about sinking my fingers into your warm, wet pussy again.”, he drawls, being knuckle-deep inside me now. “Especially after hearing yourself do it yesterday. Knowing that you were fucking yourself with your fingers… Getting off to my voice...”
“You liked that?”, I breathe, needing to hear it, while in reality I can barely stay sane right now.
“Yes.”, the answer more a growl than the actual word.
I can’t hold back the moans any longer and his soft hums against my neck are killing me, while he presses kisses to it, and the motions of his fingers pressing into me are not helping at all.
"König, please, I-", I start, but I break off when he strokes over the sensitive spot deep inside.
"Hm, what do you mean, Liebes?", he says.
"More, more.", I sigh. My hips move of their own volition, searching for more friction.
He chuckles, the deep cocky sound, so close to my ear sending a shiver down my spine. Fuck, I don't think I can ever get enough of that. "What do you want me to do, Fräulein?", he asks, puffs of air hitting the shell of my ear. "More of what?"
I groan, a little bit, between trying to play the game and his teasing, my body and mind and torn in two. His fingers stop moving inside me, and I whimper. On the one hand I can focus better now, on the other hand I just want him. Need him. To do me.
"Come on, you can tell me.", he drawls, his voice low and soft.
"I-" The words won't come out of my mouth. I can imagine it, I have the pictures right in front of my eyes. But the words... Saying it out loud is another thing.
It even had been easier yesterday on the phone. Or when we texted. A simple “yes, please”, a small comment here and there. Teasing him a little. But fully voicing my thoughts… I don’t know why I am having a hard time with it.
“You can tell me what you want me to do, just say the words and I'll do it.”, he promises, pressing his cheek against mine.
Another round starts up and I'm already getting flamed in chat. But all my brain can think about is all the stuff I want him to do. His other hand is softly caressing my hips and thigh, while his fingers are still inside me. Not moving on their own.
"I don't know.", I finally whisper, running down one of the corridors and getting eliminated. Again. I sigh, slumping into him. His warm scent engulfs me, his huge pecs are my soft pillow.
"I know that you like it when I take control. But I also wanna hear from you. I want to know what you want.", he explains, his voice gentle. "What you like, what you don't like, what you fantasize about." He makes it all seem so... easy. Normal. No big deal. “Yesterday on the phone… I liked how you told me what you wanted.”, he adds.
It was easier, lying in my own bed, engulfed by darkness. His deep sultry voice and my own thoughts the only company. Now in the light of day, sitting here, right in his lap – while still playing a video game or at least trying… It is a completely different scenario. But I know what I want, I just need to tell him.
I swallow, once, and then I just blurt it out: "I want you to bend me over the desk and just eat me out from behind." Breathless and meek, but I said it out loud. See, it wasn’t that hard, right?
It is all I can think about right now. The memories of how he ate me out like that when I was bent over the bar are plaguing me and I just need him to do it again.
The sound coming from his throat, low and gravelly, is sending a pang of need straight between my thighs and my pussy clenches around his fingers. "Good girl.", he whispers. Oh, his voice does something to me.
He doesn’t wait and just gets up, pulling me up with him, until we both stand. Bending me over the desk, just like I said I wanted him to, so my forearms rest on the surface, my hands still on my keyboard and mouse. I can feel his erection pressing against me, as he positions me, his fingers slipping out of my pussy and his hands grabbing the waistband of my pants.
"Like this, hm?", he asks, and pulling them down. The panties must go as well, of course.
"Yes, just like that.", I whisper. Still a little... shy? No, that's not the right word. “Maybe kneeling behind me?”, I suggest, my voice barely audible.
He drops to his knees in an instant, his hands on my asscheeks. His fingertips are digging into them, pulling them apart, and I can feel my own wetness against the skin that still coats his fingers.
“For you, always.”, he drawls, huffs of air hitting the wet skin of my exposed pussy with every word. He just presses his face against me, licking me like a starved man. His tongue dips into me, he’s fucking me with it. Lapping up my juices.
And all I can do is take it while my eyes turn up and I can’t even really see the screen anymore. It seems like I failed miserably at actually playing the game.
He pulls back a bit, his lips brushing over me. “You have another round to play.”, he grumbles. The game is long lost for me and my teammates, and I can’t focus on it anyways, so I just let go of my mouse and keyboard.
“I can’t. I- Fuck.” My words turn into moans, when he licks up, dragging his tongue over my pussy. “I give up.”
He chuckles, the soft sound sending a shiver through me, before he repeats the move from, the tip of his tongue drawing a trail up, until he almost reaches my other hole. My eyes widen and my spine stiffens up. Would he…?
“You like that? When I play with your ass?”, he asks, his voice so close and deep, puffs of air coasting over the sensitive skin when he is speaking.
My breath hitches in my throat, the blunt dirty words making me choke up, but I answer: “I- I like it, yeah.”
“Good, cause I like it too.”, he says.
He pulls back a bit and spits, the filthy noise making my cheeks heat up. I can feel his saliva hit my puckered hole, the wetness dripping down a bit, before he catches it with his hand.
His fingers are softly massaging, the light touches sending zaps of pleasure through me, until he dips into me, the stretch of just one digit making me almost lose my mind.
He dives in again, his finger matching the rhythm of his tongue dipping into my pussy. And then his mouth drops down further until his lips close around my clit, sucking, gentle at first before it gets more intense. The sensations catapult me over the edge, and I come hard against his face. He doesn’t stop eating me out as I rub myself on him, feeling the tip of his nose nudge against my wet folds. Same with the roughness of his 5 o’clock shadow. Fuck, I’m really losing my mind over here.
"Please, fuck me, I need you to fuck me hard.", I sigh, throwing all my reservations out the window.
"Did anybody ever tell you that you beg so prettily?", he growls, I can feel the vibration against the sensitive skin of my pussy. Fuck, I just want him to do that again.
He gets up from the floor and a condom out of his wallet, and I hear him unbuckling his belt, the clang of metal telling me so. By now it has become quite the recurring theme, me trying to break his concentration while he puts on the condom. Shimmying my hips. Rolling my ass back into his lap. Teasing him to make him pound me even harder.
I’m putting my all into it today – a little pay back for how he distracted me while playing. I slowly move back and forth, until the swell of my butt hits his thighs, as he rips the foil packet open and rolls the rubber down on his dick.
He tuts. “Needy.” The word is a reprimanding growl while he spanks my ass. Once. Another little tradition that makes me giggle, relishing the faint sting of the slap. His fingers grip the supple flesh, his hips rutting forward, and I sigh. He lines himself up, slipping inside, just the tip. My breath halts in anticipation, I wait for him to push into me, stretch me around his dick. But he doesn’t.
I look back at him, turning my head, craning my neck. The big man is towering over me, behind me, just standing there. His hand still on my ass. And his gaze on my face.
The tip of his mouth tips up, the smirk getting wider. "Fuck yourself back. Come on.", he says, and he chuckles when he sees the expression on my face. “What? You moved your hips so prettily, just a few moments ago. You can do it.”
I groan, but the imagination alone and his little coaxing order make me even hotter. I push myself onto his dick, until my ass hits his lap. Deep, so deep. Pulling back again and feeling every inch of him slip out of me.
“But I asked for you to fuck me.”, I whine.
“Yeah, and then you had to be bratty.”, he answers. “Trying to tease me.” His voice deepens. “And brats don’t get what they want.”
Well, it seems like I did that to myself. I sigh deeply and start to move again. I can feel the wetness seep out of me when my ass hits his lap over and over again, making a total mess of him.
He doesn’t do anything, he’s just standing there, watching me fuck myself on his dick. I can feel his heated gaze on me as I bounce on him, my motions getting smoother, finding a rhythm that is driving us both crazy. Stretching my pussy around his girth, colliding with him, an immovable wall of muscle. A very turned-on immovable wall of muscle, judging by the soft groans that drop from his lips.
His hand grabs my buttcheek, squeezing a bit, before he spanks me again. That little move spurs me on, pushing myself back harder. But it doesn’t have the same impact as when he does it.
I just want more.
“König?”
“Yes, Liebes?”
His hand comes down on my ass once more, the palm colliding with the supple pillow, and the sound it makes fills the room. My hips stutter and he almost slips out of me when a shiver shakes my body.
“Please, fuck, I need you to do me.”, I beg, sliding onto his dick again, stopping as he’s seated deep inside me. I look back at him, catching my breath a bit.
“Will you be good then? Next time?”, he asks, pushing some of his hair back that’s falling over his face.
“I will, yes.”, I breathe.
“Good.”, he growls, his hands grabbing me, while he starts to pound into me. He pulls my hips back into him, packing a punch to his thrusts. The slaps of skin against skin are loud and almost obscene, intermingling with the moans that get pulled from my lips when he bottoms me out.
My whole body gets shaken, the surface that I’m still holding onto moving with every push. My headphones get shaken off my head, tumbling onto the desk. The clank of plastic hitting plastic resounds when they fall onto the keyboard. But I don’t care about that right now.
The tip of his dick hitting me deep inside floods me with arousal, my mind filled with hazy pleasure. It doesn't take long, a few hard deep strokes, and my thighs start to shake. I actually have a hard time keeping myself up. My legs buckle, but his arms steady me, as I cum around his dick.
“Fuck, Liebes.”, he groans. “Squeezing me so tight.” The last word drops out when he comes as well, pushing into me one last time, his groin colliding with my ass. I slump down and sigh, my cheek resting on my arm, as I relish the last waves of my subsiding orgasm.
He pulls back, pulls out of me, and I still just stand there, bent over my desk. Naked from the waist down, while he only got his dick out. I breathe in and out, trying to pull myself together, slowly straightening up.
He’s already gotten rid of the condom, zipping himself up again, when I turn around to put my arms around him. He leans down and gives me a kiss, a long overdue one, his hand stroking down my back, while I snuggle into him.
The waistband and lap of his jeans are a tiny bit sticky with my wetness, I can feel it as I’m pressed up against him like that. He doesn’t care in the least bit, sitting down in my chair again and pulling me into his lap. Softly playing with my hair, basking in the little comfortable silence.
“You okay?”, he asks then, pushing some strands back, brushing them out of my face, while his eyes search for mine.
“Yes. I probably got reported by my mates, but that was totally worth it.”, I answer, grinning at him.
He laughs and presses another kiss to my lips. “Yeah, sorry about that.”, he says, with a cheeky grin on his face.
“Oh, you’re not, and you shouldn’t be.”, I tell him, and I can tell by the look on his face that he is in fact not.
"So, what are those animals and why do they keep crossing?", he asks me out of the blue. I burst into laughter, almost falling off his lap. Still laughing a bit, I get the controller and start up my Switch to show him the villagers on my five-star island, while I snuggle against his chest and he wraps his arms around me.
next part: breaking the bed or more stuff in the Masterlist ~
a/n: @kathy-ifnt planted the idea for such a scene in my mind and i just had to do it... i played some CS but not a lot, generally i'm more of an RPG/WoW girlie, but i didn't wanna make you sit through me explaining how to heal a dungeon run, lol also tried to evolve their dynamic a little more explicitely... stay tuned <3 and thanks for reading as always <3
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skzhua · 5 months
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Caroling to my Heart
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MASTERLIST
Pairing: Lee Minho x Female!Reader
Genre: Inspired by A Christmas Carol, Christmas love story, angst, fluff.
Word Count: 14,653
Warnings: Swearing, talks of regrets, mentions of alcohol, heartbreaks.
Summary: Christmas is meant to be spent with your loved ones. Minho stopped loving a long time ago.
A/N: Credits to my boyfriend for the general idea of the plot (story is all me, though)
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November nearing its end, Chrismas was approaching quickly. Children playing in the snow, shops filled with decorations to sell for the holidays, sales everywhere for presents shopping, music playing everywhere you go; truly the most wonderful time of the year.
At least, that's what most people think.
Chan has always loved Christmas. He always took it as an opportunity to gather up with his college friends with whom life was always enjoyable. Jeongin had recently gotten a promotion at work which he took very seriously, Hyunjin finally opened his dog rescue center a few years back, Felix was happily getting married in the following spring, Seungmin had finally started to get recognition for his stand up comedy shows, Changbin had entered a production company with Chan, and Jisung was finally seeing someone after not daring to date for years.
And then, there is Minho.
Him and Chan used to be the closest friends ever, and Minho was always the life of the party. He messed around in college, got good grades, made his way up to become a successful lawyer. Overall, things had turned out pretty well for him.
What Minho considered as his biggest accomplishment was his lover. The apple of his eyes, the prettiest woman he had ever laid eyes upon, the sunshine of his life. Y/N was in the same major as him, one of the top students. It started out as a very typical college love story. He was annoying her, she found him funny, they were paired for a project, they got closer, and they got together in a matter of weeks. From that point, life was perfect. They moved out together after college, adopted a ton of cats, went on so many trips outside of the country... they even got engaged.
That was until Minho messed it all up, losing everything he loved the most in one go.
Ding dong.
Jumping at the sound, Minho takes a second to recover and puts the movie he was watching on pause. He checks the clock; it is 7 o'clock in the evening. He wasn't expecting anybody to visit him. Nonetheless, he goes over his front door and looks into the peephole. He isn't surprised to see Chan waiting patiently with a plastic bag in hands. He rolls his eyes in annoyance before letting his friend in, greeting him boringly.
"Hey, Chan," he says before yawning loudly.
The older man looks him up and down, analyzing every bit of his friend's appearance. "Wow, you look like shit."
Minho doesn't answer, giving Chan the death stare instead. "What do you want?"
"Well," he starts while allowing himself to get comfortable on the couch. "Jisung is presenting his new girlfriend to us and because you didn't answer in the group chat, I thought I would check on you."
"Tonight? No, I have to get up early tomorrow."
Chan's shoulders drop as Minho, once again, declines an invitation. "You haven't come to see us in months."
Minho shrugs, visibly not seeing a problem. "I'm just very busy. I have cases coming in all the time and I can't trust my associate to work on them."
"You're overworking yourself, a break would do you some good. Besides, we miss you."
It's not that he doesn't want to see his friends, of course he does. He just knows very well he'll only end up ruining the night by not being the funny guy he used to be.
"I don't know."
Chan takes a nicely ironed shirt out of his plastic bag and puts it on the coffee table in front of him, and stands up to walk to the door. "You're welcomed to drop by if you change your mind. It's at the restaurant we used to go in college."
"Why the shirt?" Minho's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
"Consider it as an early Christmas gift from me."
After throwing a small smile his way, Chan opens the door and leaves. Minho finds himself alone again, perplexed. He approaches the shirt and scrutinizes it. It's a designer piece which does not surprise him, Chan has always been the kind to go an extra mile for his loved ones. Looking at the clock again, it indicates 7:20 P.M. Does he still have time to go? It would mean he has to shower, get dressed, drive all the way to the restaurant... Right, that specific restaurant.
He will visit his friends, just not tonight.
2 years ago.
Christmas was the most important holiday to Y/N. It brought so much nostalgia to her and she absolutely adored every aspect of it. Baking cookies and go ice skating were part of the many activities she loved doing in December.
This was also the first year she had to spend it away from her family. She didn't regret choosing to study so far away from home but it hurt nonetheless. It would be difficult and Minho knew that.
Y/N had to work an extra shift that night if she wanted the day of Christmas Eve off. It was ridiculous, she thought. As if the restaurant really needed her to stay so late. Coming home, Y/N was so glad to finally be able to relax as she climbed up the stairs.
Meanwhile, Minho was waiting excitedly at the front door of their shared apartment. He made sure the gingerbread cookies were all ready to be assembled to construct a house, checked if the Christmas lights were working fine, and put a playlist of Y/N's favourite holiday songs on his speaker.
"Soonie!" he yelled frantically at his cat as he saw him get on the counter. "You don't want to ruin your mama's night, do you?"
He picked him up and brought it close to his body, petting his head lovingly. Needless to say, this couldn't be a cuter sight to have when Y/N walked in.
"Hey, my two favourite boys," she chuckled at them before taking in how well-decorated the home was. "Min, did you set up all this?"
Her boyfriend put his pet down before bringing her into his arms. "I did. You've been feeling off recently, I thought it'd be a good idea to cheer you up. And since Christmas is next week, why not decorate cookies for the occasion?"
"You made gingerbread cookies?!"
Y/N's eyes lit up from seeing the baked goods and she rushed to go sit at the counter. Minho smiled at himself, proud he had managed to lit up her inner light just a little.
"Thank Felix for these."
"Well, thank you Felix."
Present.
Minho remembers every night she came home from that workplace. He always tried to make her feel better each time, Y/N despised working so late but she somehow always stayed positive.
How much he misses her.
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Minho gasps for air, sweat all over his body. He had another nightmare, nothing unusual. What is odd is the phone ringing nonstop at this hour of the day; 4 o'clock. Who in their right mind would call someone so early?
"What?"
The person on the other side of line doesn't respond, Minho can only hear them breathe unsteadily.
"Hello?"
"Minho," Jisung finally speaks. "Sorry to bother you this early."
"It's 4:00 A.M."
"I know, I know. Just, I'm getting worried about you and I can't call you tomorrow –well, today–  or you'll say you're busy with work as always. You're not okay and I think you could use a friend."
Although not wrong, his statement fueled Minho with annoyance and frustration. He doesn't need help, or anyone for that matter.
"Minho?" Jisung speaks up again as he doesn't get a response.
"Good night, Jisung," he simply says with the intention of hanging up.
"Wait!" he hurries to stop him. "If you don't want to talk for your own sake, at least do it for mine. Not just mine, the other guys' too."
Sure, Minho hates talking about his feelings. Still, he's not a monster and cares a lot about his friends nonetheless. Feeling a bit obligated, he agrees.
"So, uhm, who's your new girlfriend?" he asks, getting uncomfortable already.
"She's a friend of Jeongin. Remember that girl he worked with in college? Well, that's her. She's so nice, I wonder why Jeongin hadn't introduced me to her sooner. She kind of reminds me of..." he trails off but stops himself before stepping out of line.
"I'm happy for you two. I'm sorry I couldn't come."
Jisung lets out a huff. "Thank you but I know you could have, you just didn't want to."
"That's not-"
"Don't lie, Minho," he cuts him off. "You didn't come because of her, am I right? Because of Y/N again?"
Minho can feel his heart tighten while his friends keeps going at it, insisting on speaking about her. He doesn't want to, is it so hard to understand?
"Let's not talk about her."
"That's the problem, Minho. You never want to open up about it."
"She left. What is there more to say?"
"How you're coping with all, how we can help-"
"The only thing you can do to help is leave me alone. I'm doing just fine. Talking was a bad idea, I should go back to bed."
"Min..." Jisung says in a desperate voice.
"Good night."
As he hangs up, he can sense it might have gone too far. Regardless, he discards his phone on his nightstand and buries his body in his bedsheets. He hears meowing coming from the entrance of his room. A second later, his cat Dori jumps on the mattress to come and lay next to him. Minho reluctantly cuddles the cat back, his last one he got with Y/N. Dori is technically her baby but she left so suddenly that Minho had no other choice but to keep him.
"Where are your brothers?" he whispers affectionately to the ball of fur who replies with some more purring. "Are Soonie and Doongie sleeping too?"
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Chan is probably the only one able to get Minho out of his house, especially during Christmas time. Maybe it is guilt or shame that he feels, but Minho hasn't been so great ever since he had his early chitchat with Jisung. Shopping for presents wasn't what he had in mind when he thought of making up for it but Chan insisted it would be a good idea.
"Look," he says while pointing at the pig plush on the top of the pile. "It looks like Changbin."
Minho shrugs. "I guess it does."
"What about this?"
He looks boringly at the shirt Chan is showing. Yeah, maybe he should have done something else to make the most of his day off. A good meal at home seems so much more appealing to him.
"Come on," Chan encourages him. "Enjoy a bit."
"I am enjoying, look," Minho tries to convince him with a forced smile.
"Hmm, maybe it's time to go to the food court and take a break."
Dragging his friend behind, Chan moves from restaurant to restaurant in search of a meal for his lunch. After a while of debating internally, he settles for a hamburger. As for Minho, rice with pork seems to be tasty enough. They sit at a table and start to eat in silence. Minho looks around the place, watching people chat and laugh. He sees one couple in particular and they remind him too much of Y/N. Adverting his gaze from this spot, he focuses back on his food before speaking.
"I was thinking of buying a new hoodie for Jisung."
Chan is surprised his friend is even conversing with him but smiles. "A hoodie? Doesn't he have plenty of them already?"
"He does but he sent me a picture of one specifically the other day."
"Then you should buy it for him. Have you heard from him, by the way?"
Minho gulps. "No."
Although suspicious, Chan doesn't push it. They quickly finish their lunch and decide to head towards a clothing store to find Jisung's present. At a certain point, they unconsciously part ways as they look at different pieces of clothing. Minho would look for Chan but he has the hoodie to find. Chan is fine on his own anyway, he tells himself. He goes to the right section and begins to browse through each item. He frowns as he inspects them, not convinced these would be appropriate for his friend.
"Minho?"
He freezes in place. Has he gone crazy or has he just heard Y/N's voice?
"Minho," she says again.
Finally turning around, he is somewhat relieved that it isn't his former girlfriend, but her sister. "Deena," he greets her politely.
"It's been a while, wow. How have you been?" she asks cheerfully, too much in his opinion.
"Nothing much."
She seems taken aback by the short length of his answer. Minho used to be the nicest man she knows. Of course, she doesn't know the full story about what happened. Nonetheless, she still considers Minho as family. So seeing him so lifeless in front of her is quite a shocker.
"I'm in a bit of a rush but we should go grab coffee soon and catch up," she suggests but from the look on Minho's face, she knows she shouldn't have.
"I'm pretty busy."
"Alright," she answers, uneasy. "I'll see you around then."
"Yeah."
Without adding anything, he resumes to looking through the hoodies. Deena eventually leaves and Minho feels like he can breathe again.
He has nothing against his former "sister-in-law" but seeing her so unexpectedly is not something he has prepared himself for. He will go grab a coffee with her when he feels ready to.
Chan comes back a few minutes after with a couple of black shirts and an oversized pair of jeans he picked for Jeongin. As they wait to pay for their things, Minho can feel that Chan has something to say. It wasn't an abnormal occurrence but this time feels like it's eating him inside.
"What is it?"
Chan hesitates for a second. "It was Deena, right?"
He hums. "Yes."
"I'm running out of ways to tell you appropriately but you need to get your shit together. The girl did nothing to you and she seemed to be on the verge of crying when she left the store."
Minho rolls his eyes, like always. "What do you want me to do? Run after her and apologize? I didn't do anything."
"Exactly. Dude, everyone around you is getting sick of your way of dealing with what happened. Sure, your feelings are valid. This doesn't mean you have to inflict your pain onto us. We only want to help," Chan responds, not realizing his tone is increasing more and more.
"Always wanting to play the good savior, uh?" Minho scoffs. "In front of strangers too? Look, I don't need you to tell me how to be. You're not my dad or anything."
"I took you under my wing in college, of course I'm still looking out for you."
"That was back then. I don't need your pity anymore."
Chan's jaw clenches as the two men stare right into the eye. The cashier awkwardly calls for them to proceed to payment which breaks their staring contest. They hurry to pay before storming out of the mall, both of them fuming with anger. The moment they get into Chan's car, the latter explodes.
"This has lasted long enough. How long has it been now? A year?"
"Eleven months," Minho corrects.
"Whatever, same difference. My point is that it might be time for you to move on or at least stop being such a pain in the ass."
Minho's eyebrows raise as he lets out a chuckle. "I didn't know such strong words could come out of your mouth."
"Minho," Chan says in a warning tone.
"So what if I'm not as easygoing as before? You don't understand how it feels anyway."
"Help me understand, then!"
"You just wouldn't!"
He surprised himself by yelling so harshly. The hint of regret creeps up but he tries to hide it by looking away. They both know this is the end of this conversation, neither want to continue anyway. Chan starts the car and the ride home can't be any worse. The tension is so heavy, he swears he feels his body crushing.
Still in silence, he drops Minho off in front of his apartment complex and drives away. Face blank, Minho goes in his building and lazily enters the elevator. It's like he's in a daze, not fully aware of himself. Before he knows it, he's back home sitting at his counter with three cats waiting patiently in front of him as they expect him to fill their bowls with food. But he remains still and stares at nothing in particular. Has he gone too far this time?
In all of the people he knows, Chan is the last one he would have thought to snap at him so harshly. Most importantly, he never thought he'd yell at him for no reason. For the first time in a while, Minho allows one single tear drop from his eye.
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Christmas has come. Well, almost. Work has been the same and no contact have been made with anyone for the last week or so. The lack of human interaction felt both good and bad, but mostly aching.
Every day is the same, Minho realizes. Waking up, eating a very mediocre peanut butter toast with coffee, scrolling through his feed on social medias, getting dressed, going to work, bossing his ass off in return of a less than decent pay, coming back home, eating, washing up, going to bed, sleeping, only to do the same all over again the next day.
In a way, he loves not having to think about planning things out. On the other hand, his life is becoming more and more dull with less of a purpose. Why is he alive for if it's only to do the same task over and over again?
For a change, Minho decides to start a Christmas film instead of rotating watches of the same five movies. A mistake he does is not reading the synopsis before pushing play on the remote. He settles comfortably on his couch while Soonie and Doongie cuddle next to him. Dori is somewhere nearby, playing with a piece of paper Minho had dropped on the floor earlier that week.
At first, the show is boring he thinks. The more the story develops, however, the more he sees the resemblance between himself and the protagonist. The movie is A Christmas Carol, one Y/N once had begged him to watch with her. Scrooge is very unlikable, there is no denying in that. But Minho tries to ignore the similarities he shares with him and keeps on watching the screen in silence. At some point, it simply became impossible to ignore the tightness in his chest. In an abrupt move, he turns the TV off, picks up his two cats, and heads to bed.
Christmas is so near, he thinks as he is watching his alarm clock getting closer to midnight. He really does his best to not make a big deal out of it but his mind can't stop having these images of Y/N, his friends, Christmas... everything. He can't escape pain, no matter what.
Thankfully, Dori comes in his room to join the other felines which distracts him for a second, just long enough so he can finally fall asleep.
The clock indicates 11:55 P.M. when Minho is in a deep sleep and the only sounds that can be heard throughout the whole flat are the appliances running and the cats snoring. Maybe some snores are coming from the man himself but they are faint. Slowly, Doongie wakes up. He wiggles around to find a new comfortable position but fails and falls off the bed. Luckily, cats always land on their feet. He was going to hop back on the bed but a weird sound catches his attention. It sounds like a bell. Curious, he comes out of the room in attempt to find where it comes from. But nothing. Or maybe there is something.
A faint light can be perceived from the bottom of the front door. The cat carefully gets closer, lowering his body. In a single snap, something flies right from under the door and moving straight into Minho's room which scares Doongie well enough to go hide in his cat tree and let out a cry.
This immediately wakes Minho up as his instinctive cat dad senses take over but it is soon replaced with an unsettling feeling as he sees the bright light in front of him. He squints as it almost blinds him but he wants to know what it is. He can feel his heartbeat increase by the second as the source of light gets closer and closer. Holding his breath, he shut his eyes closed and moves his head away from whatever that is. Until he hears a sigh too familiar to his liking.
He dares to open his eyes and his shoulders drop at the sight. "Chan?"
It's not exactly Chan, it is more of a ghost-like version of him. He wears a very formal suit with his hair styled with gel and his body is translucent, making Minho very skeptical. This is a dream, he thinks. Chan is very much alive and very much not in his apartment. Certainly not after the events of the other day.
"I see you didn't even reach out to me."
Minho frowns and looks around the room as if to make sure he really is speaking to him. "What do you mean?"
Chan chuckles, his voice sounding more like an echo. "After our fight, dumbass! Come on, you weren't going to leave things as it is until Christmas."
He checks his alarm clock quickly. "Well, it is Christmas."
"In five minutes," Chan smirks at him. "I know the past few months have been hard on you."
"Great, even my subconscious is trying to fix me," he whispers to himself, loud enough that the ghost-like figure hears it.
"As in a dream?" Minho nods to the question only for Chan to laugh some more. "You're funny. Anyway, I'm not here for fun. I'm here to help you."
"You tried that already," Minho grumbles in an annoyed voice but receives a shook of the head as an answer.
"My human self tried, I haven't tried yet. You see, I only appear if I'm really needed and your case is a pretty severe one."
Minho tries to protest but is quickly shushed.
"Look, this is a night shift on Christmas Eve, I don't want this any more than you do so let's do it quickly. I'll send you three spirits tonight before it hits midnight. They'll guide you through your entire life and help you make the right choice. Got it?"
"Midnight is in five minutes."
"I know."
"But-"
"You'll understand," Chan cuts him off. "As for now, bon voyage."
Not even conscious that he had been awake —or dreaming— Minho hears a snap of fingers before opening his eyes widely and gasping for air as he wakes up. He is still somewhat confused, but rather glad this was simply a dream. He can feel that the sweat has gone through his pyjamas and makes a face out of disgust.
Quickly, he eats breakfast and freshens up before leaving for work. Yes, he is working on Christmas day. This might be the only way he can get distracted from everything going wrong in his life.
As he approches his work building, he notices a young man. He looks awfully similar to Jeongin but not quite. Curiosity gets the best of him, however, and Minho instinctively walks up to the man. He takes a moment to scan his appearance: he's shorter than Jeongin, has light golden hair and wears loose white streetwear clothing. He also takes notes on the grey of his eyes.
"Lee Minho!" he says cheerfully before Minho could let out a single word.
The man jumps in surprise. "Jeongin?"
He shakes his head as a no and smiles brightly. "No, my name is P."
"P..." Minho repeats slowly, slightly confused.
"Shall we go in?"
He doesn't wait for an answer as he begins to walk and Minho automatically follows him into his building, assuming this boy might be a new worker in his firm. They hop onto the elevator together and P pushes the button to level 7. As Minho is about to look for his own floor, he notices something odd. The building has 26 levels. So why the hell are the numbers going up to 30? He slowly turns to come face to face with the younger man who keeps a wide smile on his face, fear creeping in.
"Who are you?" he dares to ask.
"I told you, I'm P!" the boy repeats with an even bigger grin, almost creepy. "Short for Past."
Oh. Oh no. It all suddenly clicks in Minho's head. Either this is a dream occuring because of the movie he had watched before going to bed or this is his own story of A Christmas Carol. He pinches the side of his arm, hoping he would be back in his room but it only results to him hissing in pain.
"Do you remember your Christmas when you were seven years old?" Minho can only glare at him but P doesn't seem to care. "This might refresh your memories."
The doors of the elevator open right after and not only are they not in his workplace anymore but the setting is exactly as he remembers it from his childhood. They are right on the street of his parents' home. The street is empty, understandably so because of the light snow falling down and the cold weather. It is early in the morning and his childhood home looks much smaller than he remembers, and in a much poorer state.
P walks out first before turning around, encouraging Minho to follow. "Can they see me?"
"No."
The answer satifies Minho and he finally steps out of the elevator, letting himself get led by this Jeongin look-alike. He wonders why this specific time was chosen in all of his years of life. He ponders the idea of asking P but it soon vanishes when he spots his younger self coming out of the house with his parents observing him in a loving way. A knot forms in his belly. He hasn't talked to his parents since Y/N left. Are they doing okay? Maybe he should have called a few times at least.
"Can we bring one home?" younger Minho asks his mom, eyes full of hope.
"Do you want a kitten as your Christmas gift?" his mother asks and the child happily nods. "We'll go see the cats and I'll think about it, okay?"
Satisfied enough, he skips down the street while humming a Christmas song. Oddly enough, it is Y/N's favourite: Winter Wonderland.
Minho watches his former self with nostalgia. He remembers the moment perfectly. This was the first time he ever owned a cat after begging his mother to get one years after years. He had named her Nala, which he thought was very clever at the time.
"Can we follow them?"
P takes his hand, much to Minho's surprise, and they begin to float just slightly above ground and fly right to where his past self is. He doesn't question the spirit about how this works and resumes to watching himself coo at the cats. For a brief moment, his eyes advert from the scene and land on his parents. But there is something catching his attention. He sees his father emptying his wallet as well as his mom before they give it to the worker. His breath gets heavier as he looks back and forth from them to himself.
"Is this why my mother stopped going out for tea with her friends? And why my father couldn't take my mother out for dates? They used to argue so much about it..." Minho almost whispers.
"Parents make great sacrifices for their children," P says longingly.
"Why didn't they tell me?"
P shrugs. "Probably because you were a literal child but also because they didn't want you to feel bad."
"My grandmother would have helped us in an instant if she knew."
P shrugs again. "They didn't want help."
He easily catches on why the ghost brought him at this exact moment. Just in time, Minho gets a hold of himself and says in incoherent words that he won't fall for P's tricks. The latter isn't nearly fazed by this statement and he takes the man's hand to bring him back to the elevator in a quick flying trip.
After the door closes, Minho is relieved that he can finally go back home. That is until P pushes the button for level 18 which earns a frown from Minho.
"Aren't we done?"
"No, you have other things left to see before I send you back. Well, a few more years to see."
"And me at 18 years old was an important year?"
P sends him a knowing look but he acts clueless, as if he doesn't know what happened back then although it's painfully obvious he does. Denial is the best way to cope, isn't it?
The doors open to the hallway of his college dorm he used to share with Chan. He can instantly recognize the said-man and Changbin joking around before they walk in his dorm. Without waiting for P, Minho follows and freezes when he stumbles upon Y/N. This moment was merely over two months into their relationship but he could tell he already knew she was his everything at that time.
Y/N greets the two boys and encourages them to put their wrapped presents under the mini Christmas tree she had insisted on making to display in his small living room. Meanwhile, a nearly adult Minho is unwrapping takeout as he watches the scene with a huge smile.
"What took you two so long?" he asks, walking towards the group with the food in hands.
"Chan's fault," Changbin immediately accuses, earning a stare from the older man.
"Not true."
"I'm not the one who lost Hyunjin's present."
Hyunjin's eyes lit up. "You got me a present?"
A small smirk appears on Chan's face. "I got all of you a present."
"Even me?"
Minho's heart tightens. He still struggles to listen to your voice and because you were there physically in front of him, it pains him so much more.
"Even you."
"Can we open them?" Felix asks, eyes lighting up.
"After eating," younger Minho says in a stern voice. "Otherwise, you'll get your dirty ass hands on the gifts, or on anything for that matter."
Y/N glances at Jisung with a knowing smirk that his friend returns, something he hadn't caught onto back then. She still hastens to give Minho a hand with all of the food dishes, not forgetting to give a napkin to each person. He knows he can be a bit peculiar with keeping his place tidy and he never wanted Y/N to feel pressured with that. Still, it visibly seemed to have been a common issue she and Jisung had with him.
"Y/N, I thought you were supposed to go back home for the holidays," Seungmin tells with food already being chewed in his mouth.
"I was," she confirms. "Minho and I determined we wanted to spend our first Christmas together and, sorry, but I rather be here than with my aunts. They were going to be all over me about not knowing what I want to do with life, I can spare myself from it."
The whole group lets out a laugh as they go on with their feast before discussing all sorts of things. Hyunjin and Chan are in the corner laughing their asses off, much to Minho's dismay who is keeping a close look at his white carpet. Hyunjin has always been clumsy and this wouldn't be the first time he spills something.
Present Minho watches it all, fully aware of what is about to happen. He never regretted getting mad at his friend for a small spoil but this kind of behaviour is one of the many that contributed to his separation. He sees what P is trying to do by showing him this.
"I get the point, can we go?"
P chuckles. "After you know what."
In shame, he observes from the corner of the eye himself exploding at Hyunjin for staining the carpet, Chan nagging at him for doing so, the boys uncomfortably watching the scene as they back away from him... and he catches a glimpse of Y/N getting the necessities to get rid of the sauce stain, not even complaining.
"I think we're good here," he tries again to convince P.
He receives a playful smirk from the spirit. "Are you sure?"
Minho groans but, nonetheless, nods. "Please."
P is quick to grab his hand and fly right back into the elevator, doors shutting behind them. He does give Minho a minute or two to recuperate from the sight before pushing the button 24. Minho's eyes are stuck on the lit up number and gulps, feeling suddenly hotter. That was last year.
"Don't you have another Christmas to show me before..." he trails off.
He is met with no answer and has to settle for the tranquility of the metal box going up. Anxiety keeps letting itself known through his body the more the number rises. Finally, after what felt like eternity to him, the ding sound signals that they have reached the level.
"You might want to prepare yourself for this one."
Minho huffs and glares at the ghost as to tell him "no shit". The doors slide open and they are already in his apartment. At least, P was kind enough to spare him from reliving what triggered the actual argument.
His cats are all doing their thing as normally. All seems out of the ordinary until he feels footsteps through the ground. He takes a deep breath in and watches Y/N barge into the place, hair messy and tears streaming down her face. The guilt pit down in his stomach when he sees himself step inside after you, throwing his scarf carelessly on a chair.
"Are you going to talk at least?" he asks, looking down at Y/N who scoffs at her boyfriend's question.
How dare he is the one demanding explanations from her?
"Are you going to talk about it?" she questions back, crossing her arms on her chest.
"Oh, come on, I didn't do anything."
"Telling everyone you want to call off the engagement is something."
P hisses in a disapproving way. "Man, you outdid yourself with this one."
"Shut up."
Y/N still waits for Minho to speak up but nothing comes out of his mouth other than his unsteady breathing. In a swift manner, she walks behind the counter and fills their cats' bowls in the meantime of waiting still for her lover to say something. But the man stays where he is, observing his surroundings in awkwardness.
"Minho," she finally calls out.
"I didn't call off the engagement."
"Really? Saying getting married is bullshit isn't telling everyone you don't want to marry me?"
"It's not like that. I meant it's not a necessity for us to know we love each other."
"You don't get that marriages can mean something other than that, it's so much more."
"It's an excuse to spend thousands of dollars on things that will last a day or two at most."
Y/N buried her face in her hands as she let out a groan. "You've always been like this."
"Realistic?"
"No, a grumpy old man. You can't see the beauty in anything."
Minho smirks for a second. "I see beauty in you."
"Don't try with your sweet words, Lee Minho," she says, raising a finger up at him. "You know exactly what I mean. I can give you so many examples. Firstly, you never buy me anything on Valentine's day because it's a marketing holiday. Then, you want every single aspect to be perfect and at their exact place although life isn't like this. And finally, you just see the negative everywhere, always pointing out what is wrong. What happened to my sweet Minho who would smile at the slightest thing?"
He remains quiet as he sits on one of the dining table's chairs. Not knowing what to do next, Y/N copies his actions and gets seated in front of him. They don't dare to look at each other just yet but Minho most definitely wants to. His ego too big, he doesn't budge.
"Minho, please," she begged.
"Alright, it's enough."
P lets out a huff. "The action barely started."
Clenching his jaw, he doesn't insist more and settles on looking at the ground while the scene he had been trying to forget about for almost a year was happening right in front of him. Minho hates it, his heart is bleeding in pain.
"I've grown, maybe that's something you should consider doing as well," he hears himself say.
Curiosity gets the best of him and he can't contain himself from looking at her, he never knew how she had reacted to his words. The view he has in front of his eyes makes his heart shatter in an instant. He swears he can see her soul leave her body just now. Had he really done this to her?
"What- Min, I-" she tries to speak, but struggles.
"Y/N, we want different things now."
She chokes out on her tears, the ones that she finally lets stream down her face since she had been containing them. She hated crying, especially with Minho.
"No, we want the same things," she affirms, her voice breaking. "You've just become too obnoxious and focused on your career that you don't see it anymore."
"You think I'm the obnoxious one? Y/N, have you seen yourself?" Minho asks in a loud voice as he gets up from his chair. "You're so full of bullshit with your positivity and ignorance towards actual problems, it makes me sick. Take the cat, for example. We don't have space for a third one but yet, here is Dori who can't even behave properly. And your Christmas decoration is taking too much space too."
"This is about space now?"
"Yes, I need space! And I'm sorry I cancelled our last date but I just can't deal with you right now. You're in the way and I can't work and- Fuck, I don't know how to tell you but we can't keep on going like this."
Her breathing is becoming more unsteady while the tears are still flooding out of her eyes. Present Minho approches her and tries to put a hand on her shoulder, but it goes through. Right, he forgot. He is not really there.
"I didn't want to call off our engagement. But maybe I do now."
Slowly, she gets up and walks towards their shared bedroom which leaves a perplexed and helpless Minho standing alone in the middle of his dining room. He hears unknown noises and hesitates on whether he should go to you or wait. But again, his ego takes over and he stays right where he is.
Soon later, only a couple of minutes, he sees Y/N walk out of the bedroom with one bag and two suitcases full of her belongings. His face dropped immediately.
"You're leaving?" he asks, desperate. No answer. "For how long?" Still silent. "Y/N, please, I know we can figure it out."
Her lower lip quivers as she sobs some more, trying her best to ignore the man in front of her. She dares to walk towards their front door, not acknowledging her lover for one second.
"My love, please," Minho tries once more.
And just like that, she walks out, door shutting quietly behind her.
"We've seen enough."
P is about to say no when he catches Minho's watery eyes. He taps himself on the back mentally, he didn't think he would break down so fast. Taking him by the forearm, he leads him towards the elevator. The doors slide shut rather fast, which Minho is thankful for. In a careful move, P presses the ground floor button and the elevator goes down.
Once arrived, the doors reveal Minho's bedroom. It looks the same as it did the night before. Minho takes notes on that, it means his night is far from being over.
"I don't think I'll be able to sleep."
"You will," P reassures. "I'll leave you alone, now. It was my pleasure being your guide for tonight."
As the two men exchange a small smile, more as a form of respect, P begins to glow, brighter and brighter. So much that Minho can't even look at him anymore and is blinded. He tried to look away but even then with his eyes closed, the light goes through.
Suddenly, there's nothing.
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The morning is brighter than he thought it would be. He swears he saw on the news the day prior that Christmas day was going to be gloomy. The blue sky with the sun shining is definitely a pleasant surprise.
Enough with admiring the weather, Minho finishes rapidly his coffee, grabs his briefcase, and heads out to work. As he walks towards his building, he can't help but think of his dream from last night. He did expect dreaming of Y/N but not having to relive the day she left so vividly.
As he is about to cross the road, he feels his body collide with someone which is soon followed with the feeling of burnt. He curses out loud and is considering telling the other person off. Only, it is someone he hasn't seen in a while and who has a face he definitely recognizes.
"Hyunjin?"
The man cocks his head to the side and frowns. "Are you Mr. Lee?"
Minho, as equally confused, nods. "You don't recognize me?"
The Hyunjin look-alike seems to take notice of his whereabouts and clears his throat. "I apologize, sir. This is my first year working as a guiding spirit. Shall we start over? Hi, my name is P."
Suddenly, Minho has flashbacks of his encounter with the boy of the same name. Was he still in the dream? Or was the Chan spirit saying the truth? He feels a lump growing inside of his throat as the P man in question goes on about himself.
"I'm sincerely sorry about the coffee I spilled, let me fix this," he says before splashing Minho's figure with gold dust. The stain instantly disappears. "Now, where was I..? Oh, right! I'm P, short for Present. I was assigned to you to review your Christmas of this year."
At this point, Minho doesn't have it in him to protest. Without saying a word, he walks in the building as P follows him behind. This one spirit is much giddier than the previous one. The moment he steps in the elevator, he does nothing but look around nervously. It is with a heavy sigh that Minho empresses himself to push the button next to 25.
"I thought I forgot something, thanks," P laughs nervously, receiving a glare in return.
The ride up is quiet and awkward but when the doors open, they both step out in sync and walk along the trail of snow. The Christmas market is an event that the real Hyunjin takes part in each year. He always contributed with an animal rescue center to help them give puppies up for adoption.
This year is especially important to him, it is the first time he does it with his own dog rescue shelter. For the occasion, a few of the boys promised him they would come by to encourage him. Including Minho.
Far from the distance, Minho sees Felix and Seungmin arguing about whatever while Chan greets warmly their friend who has just finished setting his booth up.
"Guys, come look at the doggies," he calls the younger men who rush to pet the furry creatures.
"I'd call this one Seungmin," Felix jokes as he picks up a baby labrador.
Hyunjin laughs at the comment. "Her name is Daisy."
"Not very original," Felix allows himself to point out to which Hyunjin chuckles again.
His laughs trails off while he looks around, brows furrowed. "Didn't Minho say he'd come too?"
Chan sighs heavily, giving one of the poodles some scratches. "I called him but he didn't answer. Plus, we had an argument last time I saw him so I don't think he'll come."
"About Y/N again?" Seungmin asks and Chan nods. "The number of times I told her to talk it out with him, she really should call him. The guy is getting on my nerves."
Minho's heart stops for a moment. Not only because he finally knows what his friend thinks of him but also because he apparently has been in contact with Y/N, without his knowledge. He thought all of his friends haven't heard from you since.
"I told her too but what can I say? They're both stubborn," Felix shrugs. "I thought of stopping by her place today to see how she's doing but Minho would kill me if he discovers."
"Oh, please. He'd kill you if you even mention her name."
The four men share a sad laugh before changing topics. Hyunjin is careful with each dog as he introduces them one by one. All of it becomes a blur for Minho, he doesn't know if he wants to leave now or listen more to it. As much as it hurts him, he can't help but be curious.
"Did you know this?" he finally says, turning his body towards P.
"I did read it on the report paper before meeting you but, hey, I don't know you all," he responds with his hands up in defense. "We can go see her if you want."
Minho ponders for a moment. Was he ready to face her once again?
"No. Not yet."
"As you wish. Your friends are having a party tonight if you didn't know. We have to see that."
"I know, yeah."
P takes his hand as they float away all the way to Changbin's house. Before setting foot on the ground, he can already see all of his friends with Felix's fiancé, Chan's wife and Jisung's new girlfriend. Everyone is there. Except him.
He carefully approaches the group inside the living room where the girls are busy putting the presents under the Christmas tree. What takes him aback the most is seeing a tall and beautiful woman coming down the stairs before placing a kiss on Changbin's cheek. Since when is he seeing someone? It takes everyone a few minutes to settle down and serve themselves drinks. Once everyone is sat, they hold their glasses up for a toast.
"Who wants to do the honours?" Jeongin asks and Jisung immediately gets up.
"Merry Christmas, guys! Thank you for this year and thank you to Changbin for hosting the dinner tonight," he says, bopping his head towards him. "And let's have a moment for our Minho. He might not be here but he's in our heart. Let's hope he can get back on the right track next year."
There is a pause in the room, everybody suddenly feeling a wave of guilt and sadness. They know they've done everything for their friend, but they still feel like they should have tried harder.
Minho, this time, doesn't try to contain his cries. He walks up Jisung and smiles, just a little.
"Thanks, Hannie," he whispers.
"To Minho," he cheers, holding his drink higher.
"To Minho."
P lets out a cough, grabbing Minho's attention. "Not to be a mood breaker but I think you should see Y/N."
"What do you mean?"
"See what she is doing at this exact moment."
He surprisingly agrees with no hesitation and they both float away to another neighbourhood of the city. One Minho isn't too familiar with. This must be why she chose to move there, somewhere she knew she wouldn't encounter Minho. They float down at the apartment's balcony and Minho can see her right away through the window.
"You can go through walls," P informs and he does as told.
He's surprised to see her alone with her sister. She used to be a social butterfly, he wonders what happened. Deena sets the table while humming to Christmas music and Y/N finishes up with cutting the ham. It's not as Christmas-y as it should be, it's rather sad. The atmosphere is sad.
"Need help with that?" Deena offers.
"I'm good, thanks," Y/N answers as she brings the dishes on the table.
She looks paler than he remembers, maybe because of the lighting. Her hair is longer and she seems to have dyed it brown. She's also much skinnier.
"Thank you for cooking," Deena smiles warmly at her.
"It's nothing," she smiled back and begins to serve herself a plate. "I would have definitely given a piece of ham to the cats if they were here."
Deena shakes her head. "How many times did I tell you that I can go get them back?"
Y/N shakes her head too and sighs. "He loves them as much as I do, maybe even more. Who knows how he would survive without them."
"He's not really surviving, if you want my opinion. You should have seen him at the mall the other day."
Y/N shrugs while playing with her potatoes. "He's coping in his own way."
Her sister lets out a groan, desperate. "Jeez, you two are so sad to see, it's depressing."
Well, if Minho wanted to be sure Y/N is still struggling with getting over their separation, he has his answer right there.
"I'll be fine and so will he. Besides, it's not like we lost everything. I still have you and he has the boys."
Deena deadpans at her and then points at her ring finger. Minho looks at it more attentively and allows himself to gasp quietly. Y/N still has the ring, the one he proposed to her with. After what he said to her, she still wears it?
She is quick to pull her hand off the table and cover it with her sleeve. "It's a pretty ring."
"It means more to you than that and you know it."
"He didn't want to get married and it's alright. We grew apart and it is what it is. Can we talk about something else now?" she says in annoyance.
"Y/N, Felix, when he called-"
"Stop," she cuts her off. "Felix doesn't know what happened. He doesn't understand."
"Okay, I'll stop. But just so you know, this is doing no good to anybody, especially the two of you."
Minho can't hear any more of it. In a second, he turns around and goes back to the balcony which indicates to P that the visit is over. The ghost throws some of his golden dust in the air and the elevator magically appears next to them. They step inside and press the button to the ground floor.
As it goes down, Minho is looking away from the spirit, he has a certain pride to maintain. P hesitates but decides to put his hand on the man's shoulder.
"Can I just say? In my whole year of working, this might be the only case where I really empathized with my client."
Minho moves his hand away from him and grumbles something under his breath. P doesn't hear it properly but it goes along the lines of "I don't need empathy, don't act like you care".
When they get to his room, the spirit is quick to take a leave, leaving Minho alone in his cold room. At least he has his cats. He has them because of Y/N's kind heart knew he needs them.
At least, maybe she still cares a little.
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The formula is the same this morning. So much that Minho knows he isn't going to work and is still trapped in this weird loop of exploring his life. He doesn't bother dressing properly nor bringing what he needs for his job. He doesn't even change his cats' water.
The moment he walks in his workplace, it doesn't even take him a second to spot the ghost of his future. It's Jisung this time. Well, not him exactly.
"Hello, my name is-"
"F, I suppose? For future?"
The spirit, stunned, slowly nods. "Usually, people are happy to see me."
"I had a long night, buddy. Just show me what you have to show me and I can move on with my life."
F doesn't argue with him and he leads him to the elevator when he presses the button 30 right away. "We'll do the quick version since you're in such a rush. I would have gone through 26 beforehand but-"
"What happens next year?" Minho interrupts him.
"No, you want this to be quick. I respect that. It's Christmas anyway, I can make an exception."
"What happens next year?" he repeats.
F smiles knowingly before glancing at the button 26. Minho, hesitantly, goes ahead to press it himself to which the ghost responds with a satisfied smirk. Before he knows it, they already reached the level.
As the doors open, Minho soon recognizes Jeongin's penthouse. Looks like that year's Christmas is settled to be at his place. Jeongin is alone with Changbin as they seem to be preparing food and drinks for the guests they are expecting. It is soon confirmed when Jisung walks in without knocking, alongside with his girlfriend. In the following minutes, each of his friends, sometimes with a significant lover, come inside and the party gets louder and merrier. However, after Hyunjin arrived, it dawns on him that his future version himself won't take part on that year's dinner.
Just like the previous year.
After chatting some more about what they are up to in their lives (nothing much other than Felix getting married but everyone knows as they attended the ceremony), Changbin calls everyone for dinner and they sit around Jeongin's dinner table.
"Can I make the toast this year?" Jisung asks, earning looks from his friends.
"You did last year, I say our host of the night does it," Seungmin suggests and they all seem to agree.
So, a bit uncomfortable still, Jeongin gets up with his glass of wine in hands. "Thank you for another year of our usual Christmas party. I'm really glad all of you were able to come. Of course, we still have a thought for our Minho who won't be joining us, yet again, tonight." The guests exchange glances in agreement and let the youngest continue. "Merry Christmas and let's enjoy our meal!"
They cling their glasses together, wishing a merry Christmas to one another, and don't lose another second to attack their plates. Although it pains him to not see himself enjoy the feast with them, Minho is somewhat happy. At least, they still have each other.
"Why couldn't he make it, anyway?" Chan asks around the table, looking at anybody who might have the answer.
The only person to answer is, unsurprisingly, Jisung. "The last time I saw him was in September and he said he had some issues with the cats. I don't know if he was making up excuses but he seemed to be alright."
"It was a miracle he even showed up for my wedding," Felix scoffs, making Minho huff. "An even bigger miracle was that he didn't make a scene when he saw Y/N there."
"They left together, no?"
What Seungmin just said gives him some kind of hope. Wanting to be sure he would hear every detail, he gets closer to his friend who continues to speak on the matter.
"I know they drank a lot but has someone seen what they were doing?"
"He was cuddly," Jisung answers. "No, clingy as hell. Poor Y/N who had to drive him home."
"They could have made up then?" Chan questions and Jisung nods.
"But we all know him, he missed his chance to fix things again."
"I really thought inviting both of them would have put an end to their mishaps," Felix sighs, discouraged. "I'll send Minho a message later."
"We could call him all together?" Chan suggests but by the reactions of everybody, this is not an option.
Just like that, they change subject and continue to discuss cheerfully about everything and anything. F gives a sad smile to the man, who watches the scene feeling beaten. There must have something really wrong with him that his closest friends wouldn't even wish him a merry Christmas.
"Where am I while all of this is happening?" he asks the ghost.
Carefully, he is transported away from the penthouse and directly to his apartment. The moment he takes in the sight of his place, he sees how nothing much changed in a year. Everything is still where it was during the present year.
His hair is longer, he notices. Not only that but he grew a bit of a beard, a choice he questions a little. His cats are still doing their thing, none of them appear to be sick. What particularly catches his attention is the glass filled with a bright yellow liquor that is set next to him as he scrolls down through his feed on his tablet.
Is he drinking? He does have a few occasions where he'll consume alcohol but a glass full of whiskey is new.
Soonie jumps on the counter and, unlike what Minho would automatically do as of right now, his future self pushes the cat off. He gasps in horror and runs to catch his pet. Only, he did forget he isn't actually there and that things pass through his body. Fortunately, Soonie is fine.
"I should text her, at least," he hears himself say.
The man he sees is far from being remotely close to what he is. Hair messy, tie loosened and a beer belly growing; he wonders what caused him to let himself reach this point.
Future Minho opens his e-mail app and clicks on New Message. He is quick to find Y/N's e-mail address, which real Minho takes as a sign he must have done the same more than once in the last year. He tries to read what he is typing but the amount of typos is quite overwhelming. Despite that, he manages to make out a somewhat coherent note.
___
Hey,
I know I should probably not be writing this but it is Christmas today so, merry Christmas. Remember how we used to go out with the others and play stupid games until late? Then, we'd come home and I'd make you a hot chocolate before going to be? You remember all of that, don't you?
I miss it, and I miss you. I know I said I'll stop writing but you broke my heart, Y/N. How can I forget and ignore what happened? You left so suddenly for no reason. I should be furious, maybe I am. No, I know I am. I still can't help myself but longing for you.
Have a jolly holiday, even if it's without me,
Min xox
___
"Wow, that's pathetic," Minho breathes out after reading. He turns to face F and frowns. "That's a year from now?"
"Precisely."
"No, it can't be. I'm alright, I moved on."
F visibly tries to contain himself from speaking on that, but he can't. "You're one oblivious man."
"I am okay!"
F scoffs. "Sure. Now, shall we visit you at 30 years old? It's Christmas and I have others plans after this."
Minho keeps finding it ridiculous how these ghosts continue to act as if they are actual people. He's still dreaming, why would he bother imagining spirits with personalities?
He is soon led to the actual elevator of his apartment building where F presses the button quickly. Once the level reached, the doors open to a beautiful wedding reception, leaving Minho confused. He does not know anybody other than Felix, who is supposedly already married by then, who is engaged.
The two men walk around the room, recognizing a few faces, and Minho finally spots himself sitting with his friends. At least he isn't alone, he tells himself. He goes straight ahead to observe the scene where he is obviously bored and sick of being there. He does notice how his appearance seem much better than before with gel in his hair and a tuxedo well ironed on.
"Are you sure you're alright?" Chan asks him in a concerned voice.
"Stop with that, I'd leave if I wasn't fine," Minho rolls his eyes.
"You haven't spoken to her, though."
"You really are good at observing, Chan," Minho responds in a mocking way and the older man simply sighs.
Suddenly, the entirety of the room begins to cheer loudly and clap. Minho tries to follow their gaze to find out who they were waiting for. After moving around to see through the dozens of head, he finally spots her. And him.
Y/N. It's her wedding. And she invited him of all people?
His brain short-circuits and he feels his heart pounding faster and faster. He can't think properly anymore, the only thing he can vividly see is her. How she smiles at every single person who congratulates her. How she clings onto this man as if her life depended on it. But most importantly, he sees how her smile just gets sadder when her eyes stop on him.
He knows time stops for the two of them before they walk towards each other. He knows so many things are still left unsaid. Gaining back his consciousness, he follows himself to watch what is about to happen.
She hugs him, a bit awkwardly. "I didn't think you'd come. Thank you."
"Congratulations," Minho says, retracting from the hug as fast as he can. "You two make a fine couple."
"Thanks," she chuckles. "Look, Min-" she starts but Minho shakes his head.
"Don't, it's okay. Enjoy your day."
Grateful, she sends him one last smile and moves to thank other guests. Chan, at this point, can do nothing else but pat his friend's shoulder. Surprisingly, Minho doesn't budge. He does, however, let one single drop fall from his eye.
"That's it?" he exclaims, now looking at F. "I'm not even trying? I just gave up? What even happened between then and that moment?"
"I've shown you plenty, you can figure it out by yourself," F says calmly and then begins to walk back to the metal box.
Minho, refusing this as an answer, runs to join him hastily. "Who's this guy, anyway?"
"Does it really matter? You two are not together anymore."
"Yes, if it can help me to prevent this."
"So you don't want her to be happy?" F perks an eyebrow making Minho groan in frustration.
"I'm asking you what I need to do to change this. It can't be like this. I'm the one who's supposed to marry her."
F smirks as they walk in the elevator, presses the button to the ground floor and finally looks at the man. "You know what has to be done, you're just afraid."
"Of what?"
"Oh, please. Stop with the act. How has the last year really been like for you?"
Minho gulps, already feeling himself choke up. "I-" he starts. "It's been hell."
F nods. "What else?"
"Y/N was right, as she always is... I'm the one who lost myself with time. I did want to marry her and I did not think she was obnoxious. Certainly not..."
He starts to cry, heavily this time. There is no more hiding or denying, he just said it all out loud. Regrets and pain, that's what's been eating him. He sobs as everything finally hits him so brutally. He lost Y/N for good. Or he will lose her for good if he keeps acting the way he does.
And his friends, the only people who stick with him through everything. The ones he keeps pushing away in fear of himself.
"You're home," the spirit says, interrupting the moment.
Minho doesn't hesitate to crash into his bed and sob some more. Even if F wanted to leave so badly, he doesn't think he should just yet. Cursing at himself, he comes to sit on the bed and pats the back of the broken man.
"It's alright, let it all out. You've had a rough night."
Minho hiccups and sniffles before glaring at the ghost. "No shit."
"You know, I think you can fix this."
Minho shrugs. "I've been horrible to everyone."
"You acknowledge it, that's a start. From there, only you can decide how things will be." F looks at his watch for a second and gasps. "I'm late for my next human! Good luck with everything."
Minho doesn't watch him leave. He is still crying but he has no more energy. He desperately wants to wake up, but mostly, he wants to see Y/N.
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Minho doesn't wake up until the later morning. With the dream he just had, the sleep deprived guy seriously needed more than eight hours of resting. He does miss out work but, honestly, is not bothered the slightest. In fact, he is grateful he won't be working today.
After feeding Soonie, Doongie and Dori, he determines he should catch up on the gifts he planned on offering to his friends. Walking to his home office, he pulls out the wrapping paper he hadn't touched in a while and begins to wrap each and every single one of the presents he bought. He is definitely happy to have made some purchases the day he went shopping with Chan.
The task does grow tiring and boring after a while. To keep himself motivated, he plugs in his speaker to play some music and hums alongside the lyrics. He hasn't done that for a long time. As he is about to skip the current song playing on his playlist, his solo karaoke session is interrupted by a call coming in.
Not bothering to look at the contact, he answers happily. "Merry Christmas, you joined Lee Minho. How can I help you?"
The other side of the line is silent but he can hear that there is someone. Frowning, he repeats himself to encourage the person to talk.
"Minho, it's Changbin."
"Oh, hey! How are you doing? I was about to call you to ask what you wanted me to bring for tonight."
He senses that his friend is quite taken aback and he smiles proudly to himself.
"You're coming?"
"Unless I wasn't invited-"
"No, no," Changbin cuts him. "You're always welcomed, you know that. I'd just expected you to say you have work or something."
"I was supposed to clock in but I didn't feel like going to the office. Oh, by the way, can I ask a favor from you?"
"Uh, yeah, go ahead..." Changbin replies, skeptical.
"I know you're still in contact with Y/N."
Changbin, on his side, freezes. "How did you- Min, I swear we all wanted to tell you-"
"I'm not mad. I just wanted to know if you could possibly invite her and Deena for dinner, please? Don't tell them I'll be there, though."
"Are you certain?"
"Yes, I want it to be a surprise."
He doesn't say anything for a minute, processing what is happening. "Then, I'll invite them and say you aren't coming."
"Good! See you tonight! And tell your girlfriend I'm excited to meet her!"
He doesn't let Changbin question him on how he learned about his girlfriend and hangs up. Resuming to his activity, he stops when he sees Soonie playing with wrapping paper. Filming him, he coos at him before giving him loving scratches.
"I won't ever hurt you, I promise," he tell his cat, recalling what happened in his dream.
When he has finished with wrapping his gifts, he goes to his closet to find an appropriate attire for the night. For the last year, he hadn't wore anything other than work clothes and sweats. The nice shirt Y/N once bought him catches his attention. The dark green buttoned blouse seem to be a perfect match for his black clean pants. He changes fast and does not forget to add a few pieces of jewelry to finish his look.
He is all set to go. But one look at himself in the mirror at his entrance stops him for a moment. It suddenly clicks that he is a couple hours away from seeing Y/N again, for real this time. Although terrified, he has found some peace with it from the events of the previous night. He wants to make things right.
And one thing he can do just now is call his parents, the ones he has been ignoring for a year. He did expect his mother to cry but certainly not his father. Both incite him to come to his hometown in the following days and he can't refuse the invite. Not when they are begging with their puppy eyes.
"I'll come for New Year's, does it sounds okay?"
His mother nods vigorously through the screen of his phone. "Will Y/N be coming with you?"
He might have left out that he isn't with her anymore. Seeing the look on his parents' faces, he does not have the heart to tell them yet. Instead, he goes with a safe answer.
"I'll see with her if she can clear her schedule, but no promise."
"Tell her she's always welcomed here whenever. Merry Christmas, son!" his father wishes him adoringly.
He smiles, feeling suddenly nostalgic. "Merry Christmas to you two!"
And he hangs up.
Before going to Changbin's place, he doesn't forget to stop at the Christmas market to pay his friend, Hyunjin, a visit. Mentally preparing himself to face a pissed off Chan, he strolls between the booths and stops at a few of them. Some are selling soaps, a lot of them in fact. Others sell clothes they crocheted themselves and a few offer samples of their baked goods.
A few minutes later, Hyunjin's golden locks are easily found from afar. Minho also spots Chan, Seungmin and Felix. He has a heavy case of déjà-vu when he sees the four of them discuss with frowns on their faces.
Discreetly, he walks towards his friends who don't take knowledge of his presence yet. That is until he arrives right behind Felix.
"-stopping by her place today to see how she's doing but Minho would kill me if he discovers," the man is telling the others, oblivious that Minho is hearing everything.
Seungmin gulps and nods his head towards him but Felix cluelessly frowns. Hyunjin does the same which finally makes him turn around and come face to face with Minho. His eyes grow twice their sizes and his mouth opens slightly in shock.
"Hi, Yongbok," Minho says, unbothered. "Cute puppies you got, Hwang."
Hyunjin smiles, thankful. "Do you want to pet one? I've got this chihuahua that looks like Kkami."
He doesn't have the time to answer when a small dog is suddenly placed in his arms. With no complaint, he pets the puppy affectionately. The four men look at him, rather confused, and say nothing. They simply have no idea on how to react to this.
"Minho, what I said about Y/N- She- Uh... We-" Felix stammers out his words but Minho interrupts him.
"I know and it's all good. She is your friend too, I can't be mad at her for wanting to keep you all around."
"I see you've made some thinking," Chan finally speaks up, eyes stern.
"You can say that... I'm sorry about the other day, you were right. I shouldn't have shut you out of my life," he admits, much to his own surprise.
"Apology accepted," Chan grins. "A little birdie told me you asked Changbin to invite Y/N and Deena for dinner."
Seungmin's eyes lit up. "So you changed your mind? You'll come?"
Minho huffs. "I never said I wouldn't come."
Hyunjin sneers. "I know someone who'll be ecstatic about that."
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The girl paces the floor nervously, biting her nails as she waits for her sister to arrive. Even if Changbin assured to her that her ex-fiancé wouldn't be attending the party, she can't help but feel like he will find out. She already feels guilty for keeping contact with his friends, who knows how he would react if he learns she went to celebrate Christmas with them.
As Deena finally walks in the apartment, she lets out a heavy sigh of relief. "Finally!"
Her sister rolls her eyes. "It took me barely five minutes to get here."
"Still," she chuckles sheepishly. "Thank you for coming with me."
"What would you do without me?" she exclaims dramatically. "For real, it's very nice for them to invite you. Especially after last year. Plus, it's better than our sappy sister date night."
Y/N lets out a small laugh but resumes automatically to biting down her lower lip in nervousness. Deena notices it but doesn't comment on it. Instead, she rushes her to leave, saying they will be late otherwise.
In the car, Y/N can't wait any longer. She has worries and needs to let them out or she'll go mad.
"What if Minho ends up showing up?"
Deena gives her a look but answers nonetheless. "He won't. And if he does, he'll have to suck it up and be an adult about you being there."
"Do you think he'll get mad when he discoverd that I still talked with the guys?"
"Y/N, for fuck's sake, it's not your problem to deal with! He's the one being a little bitch. Besides, you're not with him anymore."
"It doesn't mean I want to hurt him... and..."
She doesn't complete her sentence since she knows Deena must have understood right away. Y/N is still hopelessly in love with Minho. As much as she believes that leaving was the right thing to do, there were so many instances where she tried to convince herself that he'd change if she goes back to him.
She knows, deep down, she might be right on that.
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"I can't believe you're actually here with actual presents!" Jisung almost yells as he brings his friend into a warm hug.
Hyunjin scoffs. "Let the man breathe! See, Min? I told you."
Minho taps Jisung's back a few times as to tell him to let go but he refuses, tightening the embrace. Jeongin is the one to break them apart to be the next in line to hug Minho. Everyone is baffled by his change of heart but they look past it and are simply grateful to have gotten their friend back.
"So? Is she coming?" Minho asks Changbin once he greeted everybody one by one.
"She confirmed she is."
Chan frowns and takes him by the shoulders. "Are you sure you want to talk to her?"
"Things were left unsaid, I need to clear this out once and for all."
Ding dong.
Oh. Now things are getting a bit too real, and panic begins to settle throughout his entire body. With once glance exchanged with Chan, it somehow reassures him. Still with his heart beating fast, he retreats himself behind the group as Changbin goes ahead to open the door.
She looks just like he remembers, stunning. There is, however, a hint of something he can't quite understand. She is paler and shyer. Past that, she is the same. While hugging everyone with her bright smile on her face, she shines. Minho is not too sure if he wants to ruin her brightness by letting his presence known. Looking around nervously, we wonders if this was a bad idea after all.
Before he can escape, he hears his name being called from afar; Jisung. Cursing at him mentally, Minho steps aside from behind Hyunjin and waves, embarrassed.
To no one's surprise, there is a moment of awkwardness settled in the room. While Minho is too ashamed to look back at her, Y/N can't rip her gaze away from him. She can't believe he is actually there. She has to make a mental note for later to smack Changbin for lying to her.
The moment is interrupted by Deena, thankfully. "Hey, Minho! I didn't think you'd be here."
"Hi Deena," he replies in a small voice.
This seems to be enough for the others to resume to their thing: Changbin taking his guests' coats to the other room while his girlfriend offers drinks, Deena putting the presents under the Christmas tree, Chan's wife and Felix's girlfriend sitting in a corner to discuss... Y/N, however, does not budge. Not until everyone leaves the entrance, revealing Minho standing in front of her.
"You dyed your hair?" he finally says, more or less to break the weird tension between the two.
She chuckles and runs her fingers through her longs brown locks. "I did, I thought a change might be good."
He nods as he puts his hands in his pockets, rocking his body back and forth. Now what? He knows he wants to talk about the obvious, but how?
"You're wearing that shirt," she points out with a smile. "It fits you well."
"Thank you. Your dress is cute."
"Thanks. I haven't wore this in a while."
"In a dress or not, you're cute either way."
She blushes. It's not as bad as she thought, they can at least do small talk. Still, this is far from being what she was used to with him. It suddenly snaps in her mind how much she missed him.
"I'll go get a drink, you're welcomed to come along," she offers which makes Minho smile.
Changbin's girlfriend makes no complaint when Minho asks her to make a specific drink, one Y/N would always get when they were together. It does not get unnoticed by the latter and she is amazed he remembers such details even after not speaking to each other for a whole entire year.
"You seem to be doing good," he comments once they get a hold of their alcoholic drinks.
"I'm not too bad. I joined a new law firm and, hopefully, they'll let me work on a case on my own."
It pains him to know she is still struggling with work, this was never an issue for him. "One day, someone will recognize your competence."
"Easy for you to say. I've heard you climbed status and have your own office?"
"Which one of the boys told you that?"
By the look on her face, he has managed to surprise her. "So you know."
He takes a sip of his glass and shrugs. "It did hurt a little that nobody told me but it's alright. You needed them as much as I did."
Her eyes soften. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be. I'm the jerk here. I pushed you away to the point you left and after you did, I was so close to losing all of my friends. You did nothing wrong."
She moves her head to the side, unsure on how to react. "We both made mistakes."
He scoffs. "Maybe, but you have to admit I did things way worse than you."
"It's alright, we're okay now. It wasn't meant to be."
His heart tightens and he scoffs once more. "What if it was?"
"Minho-"
"No, Y/N, listen to me for this one. Please." The gleam in his eyes convinces her and she nods for him to continue. "I don't know exactly what happened, it might be work, but I lost myself at some point. I never thought weddings were bullshit, not once in my life. My dream the moment I met you was to put a ring on your finger."
Minho stops himself and gives a scan around to make sure nobody is watching. He is thankful when he realizes his friends are busy with watching a funny video on Felix's phone. With no hesitation, he takes Y/N's hand and moves her sleeve up to reveal her engagement ring, still beautifully worn on her finger. Embarrassed, she is quick to retract her hand back in hiding. How did he know if she has been hiding it as soon as she saw him?
"And I think you might still want that."
Her eyes get watery when she forces herself to stare back at him. "This year has been... a lot. I was not ready to remove it just yet and, I guess I just got used to wearing it."
Although tempted to correct her as he know the truth, Minho does not insist any more. Instead, he sends her a look that says he understands. Almost as if it was planned, Chan calls everyone in the living room to open the presents and to, as they do every year, make a toast.
It takes a few minutes until everyone is sat and silent but once they seem good to go, Chan nods his head at Minho. "Why don't you do the honours this year, Min?"
"Oh, um..."
"I think it won't be appropriate if it is anybody else other than you," Seungmin adds to which the others seem to agree on.
Reluctantly, he gets up from his seat and clears his throat. "First of all, I'd like to apologize for the way I've been acting. I was going through a lot and I shouldn't have imposed it on you, I'm sorry. Second of all, thank you all for sticking by my side although I was a total asshole."
"Heck yeah, you are," he hears Changbin jokingly respond.
"Something else I want to mention," he continues, ignoring his friend, "is how much regret I've felt this year. Y/N?"
All eyes move to her figure by the mention of her name. She looks at Minho, feeling a bit intimidated, but smiles to let him know she wants him to go on.
"I've never loved anyone else more than I have with you. I am aware things were not ideal but you brought the best out of me. I'm sorry I had to be the one ruining this for us. I love you still and I can only wish you the best from now on." He gives the others a last glance before raising his glass. "Thank you Changbin for hosting this year's party, and merry Christmas!"
Even though the entire room cheers and applauds in response to Minho's sweet speech, Y/N is not mentally there anymore. Her mind going wild, she can't think straight other than what Minho has said. She undeniably still loves him, more than she'd like to admit. But is she ready to let him in again?
"Hey," Deena calls her out, shaking her away from her thoughts. "You might want to figure some things out with lover boy."
Her face grows red. "You think so?"
"He just left outside to go for a walk but I'm sure he isn't too far yet. Go join him."
"I don't know..."
"Y/N, stop being in denial. You still love him, he still loves you, he obviously wants you back... Just go get him already."
Slightly intimidated by her sister, she doesn't need to be told twice to go grab her coat and boots, and walk out the door. She expected for him to be at least further away on the street but it is definitely a surprise to see him sitting down on the porch. His back facing her, she quietly approaches him and sits beside him.
There is a moment of quietness before he finally looks at her. "It's snowing."
She chuckles. "Thank you for the info, Mr. Obvious."
They share a laugh and both go back to watching the snowflakes fall. It's calm and peaceful, Minho loves it. It painfully reminds him of many occurrences where they'd watch outside the window for no reason on snow days.
"That was a good speech you just made."
He smirks. "I know."
His playful demeanor is something she doesn't remember seeing in the last moments of their relationship. It feels nice to see him back, as himself.
"What you said earlier, did you mean it?"
He frowns. "The part about regrets? Yeah, I mean, I was an ass and it didn't help me getting better so... I just know I want to fix it."
She shakes her head. "Not just that. The part about still loving me."
He moves his eyes from the snow to her own and she looks at him expectedly. She is so pure, he hates himself from even thinking he had hurt her. Carefully, he takes her hands in his and sets himself just a bit closer to her while still giving her space. He feels the sweat on his forehead, waiting for either getting rejected or getting the love of his life back. Either way, he has to say it. He's been putting it off for too long.
"I meant every word I said, I still and will always love you. How can I not? You're sensitive, smart, beautiful, and so caring. You always put me before yourself. So far, you were ready to give up your cats so I could have them because you knew I needed them."
"Minho-"
"No, you don't get to interrupt me until I'm finally done saying what I have to say. Y/N, never once did I think you were obnoxious. You see beauty in everything, something I'm incapable of doing and that's what bugged me. It bothered me how you are so perfect while I am not even close to be as loving as you are."
She scoffs with a knowing smile pending on her lips. "Now, I'll have to cut you here. You don't see yourself how I see you, Minho. Why do you think I fell in love with you in the first place? You have your own little ways of showing affection, each cuter than the other. I don't mind the rest because I know you do love me."
"I hurt you," he argues sadly.
"And I forgive you, just as long as you don't do it again," she grins, tightening her grasp on his hands.
Minho raises an eyebrow in confusion. "You forgive me... As in-"
"Don't make me say it, I have my own pride too."
Minho wipes away his tears he hadn't realized were starting to fall on his face and doesn't lose another second to bring her close to him and crash his lips onto hers. They're just like he remembered and maybe better, sweet and soft. At that point, both of them are crying. Only this time, it's not because they are hurting. So many feelings are said through the kiss and not a single one is coming from pain. It's sereine and warm, Minho can feel his whole body get lighter.
"Fuck, I missed you so much," he says when they break away, holding her close to his chest. "I'm never letting you go again."
"You better," she chuckles through a sniff.
The door behind them opens wide with more than seven pairs of eyes on them. Minho blushes while Y/N hides herself in the crook of his neck.
"So we good? Everything is sorted out? Please, the food is ready and I'm starving," Jisung complains, receiving a smack from Changbin.
"You're not starving and let them have their moment!"
Jeongin sighs. "I think the moment was already ruined.
The couple, who are still sitting, explode in laughter before getting up and joining their friends in the warmth of their home where Changbin's girlfriend has selected a nice Christmas playlist to complete the ambiance. Music Minho recognizes to be Y/N's favourites. A coincidence? Probably but he likes to believe it isn't.
While the boys congratulate him for being back together with his love, Minho looks outside through the window one last time. He isn't too sure if what he sees is right but four figures seem to look at him proudly.
While nobody is watching, he mouthes a "thank you" before the silhouettes fade away in the wind.
Minho still doesn't know to this day if what happened that night was real or not. One thing for sure is he can't be any more thankful for these spirits. Most importantly, he is finally in a happy place.
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