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#I’m in here too often to have everything be to same for too long
hwashotcheeto · 21 hours
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𝑩𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝑭𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅'𝒔 𝑴𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 (10)
Best Friend's Mother Masterlist
Chapter: Ten
Milf!Park Seonghwa X gn!reader
Summary: Christmas has finally come. But with it, the end of Winter Break, and feelings that both you and Seonghwa are still too scared to confront.
WC: 6.3k
CW: Fluff, angst, suggestive but it cuts off
AN: I'm so sorry this took so long. I don't have much to say, other than this is more angsty than I planned, but I think it makes for a better story. I hope it's a good part one finale for you all, and you enjoy, as always. 💜
Tag List: @hyunjinsjeans @malldreamprincess @unlikelysublimekryptonite @goayeos @kittkat44 @babyxhoiz @asleepylilcat @mxnsxngie @rxnexxi @mommahwa1117 @acciocriativity @anxiousskylar @h3arteyes4mingi @jus2passtime @asjkdk @soso59love-blog @i-love-ateez @cb97s-laptop @multistanbaby
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It was December 24th, and you were awake way earlier than you wanted to be, standing in a jewelry store, looking through the glass of the display case at the many expensive, gorgeous, necklaces. 
But tomorrow was Christmas, and you needed a gift for Seonghwa, so sacrifices had to be made. 
You’d already figured out a gift for Wooyoung ages ago, you had it wrapped and ready in your guest room at the house. 
Now you were here, looking for a gift for his mother. 
You often had moments where you still couldn’t believe the life you were currently living. 
“Do you need help?” You snapped your head up to find the person who spoke to you, and your eyes found a sweet older woman, smiling at you from behind her glasses. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you, dear.” 
“No, it’s alright,” you said back, offering back a half smile as you tried to collect yourself. “I’m just looking for a last minute gift. 
“Oh, well, what exactly are you looking for?” The older woman came closer, looking over the necklaces in the case as you were. 
At that moment, you realized that you really didn’t know what to look for. 
You had a good sense of Seonghwa’s style by now, but in terms of jewelry, you were a little stumped. In the month you’d been there, the three of you hadn’t really gone out, so none of you really “dressed up.” 
But of the things you did see, you weren’t sure what he preferred. He usually wore chains, something elegant to go with his already sophisticated outfits. 
But at the same time, you didn’t want a generic, expensive diamond necklace on a silver chain. Most necklaces looked like that, just a pretty pendant on a cheap, boring chain. 
Of course, they had their own charm, and you had a few necklaces like that yourself. But you wanted to find him something special, something as unique as he was. 
You were wishing you’d asked Wooyoung what Seonghwa would wear, but even you knew about Wooyoung’s inability to shut the fuck up. So if you did ask, you ran the risk of spoiling the surprise. 
“I don’t really know,” you mumbled, putting your hands into the pocket of your hoodie. 
“Well, maybe I can help you,” the older woman offered, giving you another sweet smile. You had to admit, in the back of your mind, you were doubtful. But you’d accept any help you could at that moment. 
You nodded, and the older woman nodded back. “So, who is it for?” 
You hesitated, even if this was the expected first question. Considering the previous day’s events, you were even more hesitant to even breathe a word of your infatuation with Seonghwa to anyone. 
So you spit out some half formed excuse that you hoped sounded believable. “For someone I’ve been seeing.” 
The older woman’s eyes lit up like stars as a big smile spread across her face. You couldn’t help but smile with her. 
“Isn’t that precious?” She looked at the display cases again before she looked back at you. “What are they like? What do they like to wear?” 
Like magic, there he was in your mind. Seonghwa, in his gorgeous dresses and outfits. Walking like a queen with the way he held himself. His gorgeous smile that lit up the world, and his bright doe eyes. 
He was everything. He was wonderful. 
“He’s very mature,” you began, not picking up on the fact that “he” was the pronoun that came out. “He dresses expensively. He’s a type that likes the finer things in life.” 
“You’re looking for something a little more expensive?” The woman teased with a little grin, but you nodded in agreement. You did have a budget, as your student loan money that you were using couldn’t all go to a Christmas present. 
But for Seonghwa, you’d do it. 
“Come with me.” The older woman began walking around to a different display case, and the necklaces here were far more ornate and expensive than the ones you were looking at. Your heart stopped when you saw the price tag on one of them.
One of these necklaces could easily pay for at least half a year of your tuition. That was intimidating, to say the very least. 
The older woman must’ve saw the color drain from your face, because she quickly leaned on the counter and spoke to you softly: “This is where I tell people to look for the piece they want, and then we usually find something more affordable that’s close to what they want.” 
Your entire body sagged with relief. 
So there you went, looking over the necklaces they had. These ones weren’t just jewels on a chain, they were much more detailed than that, more intricate. There was more color in them, more styles overall. 
As you were weighing your options, you were imagining Seonghwa in your mind, picturing how he’d look with each of them, what he’d wear with them, how it would look against his honey skin. 
A few times, you got a little too wrapped up in your fantasies and had to pull yourself back. 
You repeated the process until your eyes landed on the one. The one you could perfectly see Seonghwa wearing. 
It was a choker with a large red stone in the center, with many others around it. There were a few diamonds around it as well, but they were quite small. 
It could’ve been a crown. 
“This one?” The older woman asked, knocking you out of your thoughts and back to reality. You shook yourself and nodded, smiling. “It’s quite expensive, are you sure?” 
You looked at the price tag, and the necklace would definitely drain your bank account. 
But you wanted it. You wanted him to have it. 
“Yes,” you said, nodding. “I want that one.” 
The older woman hesitated for a moment, but then she nodded as well, and went to wrap up the choker. You watched as she took it and put it into a silk lined velvet box, laying it out carefully, as if she could feel the price of every gemstone. 
You followed her around the counter to where she was going to ring it up, trying your best to not be impatient. But the older woman couldn’t help but smile at your fidgeting and shifting around. 
Just thinking about Seonghwa wearing it, how pretty the red would look against his skin, the chains around his pretty neck-
“Please insert your card, dear,” the older woman called, still smiling brightly. 
You babbled out a “sorry” as you fumbled for your card to pay for the choker. The old woman was still smiling as you went through with the payment. 
And yes, the choker was incredibly expensive. No, it didn’t count as a student expense. 
But it was worth it for Seonghwa. 
The older woman pushed the bag across the counter to you. “There you go.” She flashed that sweet, warm smile at you again as you carefully lifted the bag off the counter. “I’m sure he’ll love it.” 
At that moment, you looked into her eyes. You looked for any deceit. Any lies. Any possible malice or potential push back. 
But there was nothing. Just light and joy. 
You smiled back and nodded as relief washed over you. “I think so too.” 
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You placed the bag underneath the Christmas tree, hiding it behind the present you got Wooyoung. Thankfully, the both of them were still asleep when you arrived back at the house. 
A stark contrast to the night before, the house was quiet, and empty. No people, no music, nothing. Just a house, full of decorations. 
But now, you were fortunate for everyone to be asleep so you could tuck your very expensive, very special present behind the others. 
But since the moment you left the store, you were having doubts. You just spent a lot of money on Seonghwa. You bought him something very special, something most people don’t gift to others unless they’ve known each other for quite some time. 
You hadn’t known Seonghwa for quite some time. In fact, most people would think you’re doing much more than you should so early on. Even you were thinking that. 
But you couldn’t deny the ache in your chest when you thought about Seonghwa. The goddamn ache, the feeling that could’ve dropped you to your knees if you weren’t careful. The ache you felt all over your body when you didn’t get the chance to even hold his hand, to hug him, to be with him. 
The crippling feeling when you thought about going back to campus and not seeing him for months. 
Maybe you were falling too soon and too hard. Maybe this wasn’t right. 
You moved to reach for the bag when you heard two doors open and close. As footsteps moved across the hardwood floor upstairs, you worked to get your jacket and shoes off as quickly and quietly as possible before the owners came downstairs. 
You closed the door to the coat closet as Yeosang and Jongho made their way down the stairs, wearing what looked like Wooyoung’s shirts and shorts, their hair messy and eyes half open. You gave them the best smile you could muster at that point, but tried to not over do it. 
“What are you doing up so early?” Jongho asked, his voice scratchy and low. Your eyes flicked up to the clock on the wall in the living room, above the TV, and it was just after seven. Would it be early if you were still on campus? No. 
But you weren’t on campus, so yes, it was early. 
But you realized you didn’t have an excuse as to why you were up so early. 
“Your guess is as good as mine,” you babbled, trying to sound as nonchalant as you could manage. To your relief, the two half awake men in front of you weren’t in the mood to interrogate you. 
“Us too,” Yeosang agreed, following Jongho into the kitchen. You did the same, getting glasses of water with them and sitting at the kitchen table. 
None of you said anything for a few moments. You three were enjoying the early morning silence, the peace, the few stray strands of sunlight peeking in through the windows and stretching across the floor. 
Eventually, Jongho broke the peaceful silence. “Do you think San and Wooyoung will be down before noon?” 
Yeosang pretended to think as he took another sip from his glass. He looked off, as if into the distance, like he was prophesying about the future. You couldn’t help but laugh. The sound made Yeosang smile. 
“No, I think they’ll be there until we go find them,” he concluded, finishing the rest of his water afterwards. You nodded in agreement, taking another sip from your glass. 
“I expected the same from you.” Jongho looked at you over the rim of his glass as he sipped his water. You looked down as your face began to burn. You didn’t have an answer to that, so you kept quiet. But you knew your friends wouldn’t let you off easy. 
Yeosang continued the conversation as he set his glass down in front of himself. “Yeah, it is a little weird that you’re awake so early, fully dressed, standing by the front door.” 
Both men were looking at you now as you stared down at the table, your face burning like the sun, the heat pulsing in waves. 
It’s not that you were worried that they’d spoil the surprise. You were more afraid of their opinions and judgements of the gift you got. You could handle the jokes and even fire back at them, and you welcomed the banter about the relationship you’d found yourself in. 
But you were already beginning to have second thoughts about the expensive present sitting across the house, tucked away under the tree, hidden away from sight because you were embarrassed. 
It was everything you were afraid of. Falling too hard too fast, committing to something larger than yourself, something you very well might not be ready for. 
“Hey,” Jongho called, waving his hand close to your face. “You kinda spaced there, you okay?” 
You blinked a few times, like you were rebooting yourself, and smiled as best you could. “Yeah, sorry, I’m good.” 
“Are you sure?” Yeosang countered. Their slightly amused faces turned to ones of concern, their eyebrows down. They weren’t sure what exactly was in your head, but they knew it wasn’t nothing, like you were about to tell them it was. 
And you knew they would push. But you didn’t want to vent all of your worries and fears and poor life choices at seven in the morning, especially when they didn’t know the full extent of the month’s events. 
Thankfully, you had your out, as Wooyoung came down the stairs with San close behind. They both looked like they’d skipped the waking up part of waking up, with fluttering mostly closed eyes and their hair the best example of a “rat’s nest.” 
Yeosang and Jongho looked up at them as they came into the kitchen, sliding their feet across the floor, hardly picking them up. 
“Good morning, sunshine,” you said cheerfully, trying to steer the conversation to the two zombie looking men that strode in. The two men at the table, to your relief, joined you in teasing the others. 
“The year hasn’t changed yet, just for reference,” Jongho threw out. Wooyoung rolled his eyes as he continued past the table to the cabinet to get himself and San a drink. 
San followed him, stopping when he did, wrapping his arms around Wooyoung’s waist from behind and laying his head on the younger’s shoulder. 
With the heat off you, you breathed a small sigh of relief. You knew this wouldn’t be the last of the conversation, but that would be a problem for future you to handle. 
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Seonghwa didn’t wake up until an hour after San and Wooyoung had. That was to be expected, after all the party planning and hosting he’d done the day prior. Not to mention, the emotional distress was quite draining. 
Wooyoung helped him with breakfast, and you all ate with minimal conversation, of which you were grateful for. The less you spoke, the less chances you had to expose or incriminate yourself. 
The rest of the morning was mostly slow and quiet. You were all still recovering and resting from the previous day, and dreading the end of Winter Break as a whole. 
Classes started again in the second week of January, but you and Wooyoung had agreed to be back on campus by January 1st. 
If you weren’t counting Christmas Eve, the day you were thinking all of this, you had only one week left. Seven more days until you had to leave. 
It didn’t help that Seonghwa was being particularly clingy that day. He sat next to you at breakfast, he was holding your hand, he was giving you little kisses. 
He hugged you from behind as you were helping with the dishes, holding you tight while his body pressed into yours. 
He wordlessly demanded cuddles from you when everyone dispersed after breakfast. He pulled you onto the couch and held you tight, almost falling right back asleep when he did. 
You didn’t think, or really even wanted to, ask why Seonghwa was so attached to you that day. You told yourself it was because he was tired. Or maybe he realized you would be leaving in a week too.  
Whatever it was, you were conflicted. 
You couldn’t stop thinking as you laid in Seonghwa’s arms, your head on his chest. You wanted to relax into his warmth and safety and let the tension melt off your body. 
But you kept thinking of that goddamn choker. The choker you were so proud of finding, that you gladly spent so much money on, the choker that you knew would look amazing on him. 
It was stuck in your head because you didn’t know if you were actually going to give it to him or not. 
Maybe you’d just take it back to campus with you and save it for another time. Maybe you’d return it altogether. You’d just sit with Wooyoung as Seonghwa opened the Lego sets Wooyoung said you both could take credit for. 
Maybe that was the safer option. Maybe that was the less crazy option. 
But as you began to accept that conclusion and make peace with it, the ache was back. 
As you listened to Seonghwa’s steady heartbeat, feeling his hand run up and down your back, the ache returned with a burning passion. Your breathing grew labored, like the ache was genuinely squeezing your heart and forcing the air out of your lungs. 
Tears welled in your eyes as you imagined shoving the choker’s bag into your own and taking it back to campus with you. The ache spread to your arms and legs as you thought about never presenting the gift to him, and simply just watching him open the presents Wooyoung bought. 
Your whole body hurt. It felt like a pulsing, squeezing pain, and you couldn’t escape it. You couldn’t stop the tears from running down your face. 
You’d fallen in too deep. You fell too hard, too fast. 
Everything you’d been afraid of had happened exactly as you thought it would. 
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By the time your friends left, the sky was already darkening again. As much as you all would’ve loved for them to stay, they had families to go home to as well. 
You wondered how long it would be before San and Wooyoung were consistently going to each other’s family events. Or even hosting their own. 
But it was hours since then, and you were sitting back on the couch with Seonghwa and Wooyoung. Seonghwa sat between the two of you, his arm around your shoulders, holding you tight against him, with Wooyoung sitting the same way. 
But Wooyoung was stretched across most of the couch and his arms were dramatically thrown around Seonghwa, like he was a figure in a painting you’d find in an old museum. 
You three had agreed to get snacks and drinks and watch Christmas movies until midnight, when you could open your gifts for each other. 
But the movies kept getting interrupted by Wooyoung being impatient, general commentary, and before you all knew it, you were all talking again with the movies long forgotten.
In a way, you preferred this. The more time you spent talking, the less time you had to think about the impending time of your decision. But as the clock ticked down, as midnight drew closer, your efforts were in vain. 
All you could think of was that goddamn choker. The repeated question of “will you, won’t you” flashing across your eyes like some kind of horror montage. 
You started to feel sick. Your stomach was churning, your head felt light. You were pretty sure you were beginning to turn green. All over a fucking choker. 
Midnight drew ever closer, and the dread in your stomach intensified and grew with every second that ticked by. Your eyes kept jumping back and forth, from the clock on the wall to the TV and back again. 
You nearly jumped out of your skin when Wooyoung sat up and yelled, “It’s Christmas!” 
Your hands were slightly shaking as Wooyoung got up from the couch and pulled you and Seonghwa along, dragging you across the room to kneel down by the Christmas tree. 
The warm lights of the tree that once brought you comfort now nearly made you vomit. 
You swallowed it back as you settled next to the tree on the hardwood floor, pushing the bag with the choker further back into the corner. Your wrapped your arm around your back in an effort to do so as subtly as possible. 
Seonghwa also came to sit on the floor in front of the tree between you and Wooyoung, but only after he’d gotten a trash bag to put the discarded wrapping paper in. Wooyoung happily shoved a box towards Seonghwa, a huge smile stretched across his face. 
“We got this one for you!” He dropped the present in Seonghwa’s lap as he reached over to grab the other boxes that had Seonghwa’s name on the tag. “And these ones too.” 
Seonghwa pouted, but then smiled warmly at his son. Oh, how ethereal he looked under the light of the Christmas tree, delicately highlighting his warm skin and putting sparkles in his eyes. 
You shook your head and came back to the present as Seonghwa began to tear the wrapping paper off the box in his lap. His smile grew bigger the more he revealed the box, and finally laughed in excitement. 
“Oh, nae sarang,” Seonghwa sighed, putting the wrapping paper in the trash bag. “This is so sweet of you, thank you.” 
Wooyoung was absolutely beaming, his smile outshining the tree beside him. His eyes flicked over to you, and you couldn’t help but share his smile. Seonghwa looked at you too, and your heart fluttered at the genuine gratitude in them. 
“Thank you too, jagiya.” 
You just nodded, your heart cracking a little. 
But you happily watched Seonghwa tear open the rest of the boxes. His eyes lit up every time, laughing in pure joy at the brand new expensive Lego sets. You nodded every time he said thank you, but guilt pulled at your heart knowing you didn’t actually contribute in any way. 
But Wooyoung didn’t seem to mind. He was just as happy seeing Seonghwa open the presents, as if he was the one receiving them instead of giving them out. 
You were truly the luckiest person to have Wooyoung. 
After Seonghwa had finished unwrapping the Lego boxes, he stacked them up and put them aside, and then pulled Wooyoung into a tight hug. 
“Thank you, nae sarang,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. 
“You’re welcome, Eomma,” Wooyoung whispered, squeezing Seonghwa tighter. 
Your heart cracked again. 
Wooyoung pulled away from Seonghwa and reached back under the tree for a bag. It looked fairly inconspicuous, just a regular white bag with white tissue paper sticking out the top. But in your experience with Wooyoung, quiet and boring was always suspicious. 
Seeing your hesitation, Wooyoung sighed and rolled his eyes. “It’s not a bomb, don’t look at it like that,” he whined. “Just open it.” 
“It’s a bag, it’s already open,” you teased, to which Wooyoung groaned and rolled his head back. Both you and Seonghwa let out a soft giggle. 
“Just open it, please!” 
With another giggle, you pulled the tissue paper aside and looked into the bag, seeing a bundle wrapped in more tissue paper. You carefully pulled it out and pulled the paper off to reveal the gift. 
“Wooyoung,” you breathed as you looked over the expensive outfit in your hands. The logo on the tag was what you saw first, your head shooting up to look at him in bewilderment. “What is this?” 
“Clothes, dummy,” he answered with his award winning smile again. “Now you don’t have to borrow my clothes for events.” 
You know his comment was a joke, but his words went straight to your heart. You hadn’t asked for this, Hell, you didn’t even think about buying it for yourself. 
But you finally had a nice outfit for events, or parties. 
Or maybe even future restaurant dates. 
“Thank you.” You carefully folded the clothes back up, as if they’d unravel in your hands, and laid them back in the bag. 
“You don’t have to thank me, it was a necessity.” 
You rolled your eyes, to which Wooyoung just smiled. You couldn’t stop yourself from doing the same. 
“Is it my turn now?” Seonghwa asked as you put the bag aside. Your eyes caught a glimpse of your own gift behind the tree again. 
“Sure,” you breathed, your lungs shrinking. Wooyoung eagerly reached under the tree and grabbed a box, wrapped in gold wrapping paper, with his name written on it in Hangul. 
He wasted no time in shredding the paper, almost reminiscent of a cat, and revealed a large, expensive laptop. Wooyoung just stared at it for a few moments with his jaw hanging open, his eyes the size of dinner plates. 
“Eomma,” he whispered, then looked up at Seonghwa. “When I said I wanted a new one, I wasn’t serious,” he started to explain, but Seonghwa held up his hand to stop him. 
“I don’t care, I wanted to get it for you. And I think college would be a little difficult with a broken laptop.” 
You held back a giggle remembering the moment Wooyoung dramatically wailed about how he accidentally knocked his previous laptop off a table and onto the linoleum floor of the classroom. 
Wooyoung just stared at Seonghwa for a few moments, like he was about to tell his son it was all a joke. But when Seonghwa just smiled at him, in the warm mom way, Wooyoung smiled too and hugged the box. 
“Thank you.” 
“You’re welcome, nae sarang.” 
Wooyoung set the box aside carefully, slowly setting it down beside him, making sure it would be safe before he turned to you and Seonghwa. 
You looked up at Seonghwa, and he smiled at you warmly before he reached over and squeezed your hand. “Your present comes later.” 
It took every ounce of strength to not burst into tears right then and there. You just mustered up the best smile you could and nodded. There was no teasing look in Seonghwa’s eyes, no allusion to more. Just his warm smile and bright eyes. 
“Eomma, I didn’t need to know that,” Wooyoung groaned dramatically, speaking loudly as he flung himself back to lay on the floor. You rolled your eyes as Seonghwa pulled his hand away and looked back at Wooyoung. 
“It’s not like that,” he began, but Wooyoung just whined again. 
“If you’re gonna be like that, then I won’t give you your present,” you added as you pulled out a large, black bag from under the tree, with black wrapping paper sticking out of it. 
Wooyoung shot up and looked at you, and then at the bag, then back again in confusion. His brows went down as he opened his mouth to question you, but you just slid the bag across the floor to him. 
“I’ve had them hidden for months,” you explained as wooyoung grabbed the bag.
“Them?”
“Yes, them, now go look!” 
Wooyoung looked at the bag again, this time with a look of concern instead of confusion, like something was about to jump out at him. He studied the still bag for a few more moments before he finally pulled out the tissue paper and looked inside. 
And he pulled out two small plushies: A black cat and a red fox. 
Wooyoung gasped as he pulled them out, then hugged them tightly. “You remembered!” He exclaimed as he looked at them again, turning them over and admiring all the little details. 
Months prior, Wooyoung wouldn’t stop talking about these plushies he wanted. He had a collection going, and he needed those two to complete it, but he never had a chance to get them. 
So one night, you did. You ordered them online and hid them in your dorm for months, waiting for the day you could’ve given it to Wooyoung. 
And here you were, on Christmas Day, finally seeing his eyes light up like stars as he looked at them both, hugging them like they were his children. 
The sight helped alleviate some of the tension in your chest. 
“Thank you,” he finally said to you as he looked up. You smiled, and this time, it was genuine. 
“You’re welcome.” 
Meanwhile, Seonghwa was smiling just as brightly. The mom smile you adored, the softness in his eyes as he looked at you both with unending fondness. 
It cracked your heart all over again. 
With all your presents exchanged, Seonghwa and Wooyoung collected their gifts and went to bring them to their rooms. 
You did the same, but hid the choker bag in the gift bag Wooyoung gave you, and ran to your room to hide it there. 
How ridiculous this all was. You bought the choker for Seonghwa, you brought it home, you’d imagined how beautiful he’d look with it. You’d walked out of that store knowing he’d gratefully accept the gift, and you were excited to see him wear it. 
But how could you give someone like him something like this? This was far too much money for someone you haven’t known for nearly enough time. 
But you bought it because of the goddamn pain in your chest. The suffocating, choking ache that grew ever stronger every day. It invaded every part of your body, it was in your blood and bones. Even if you wanted to smother it and shove it away, it would take forever. 
You knew what it was. You knew why it was there. 
But you didn’t have the courage to say it. Which is why the choker was getting shoved in the duffle bag and into the closet as you fought back tears. 
Maybe you’d give it to Seonghwa another day. Maybe as a birthday present, whenever that was. 
But not now. You couldn’t do it now. 
As you wiped the tears from your eyes, there was a gentle knock at the door before it opened a little. 
“May I come in?” It was Seonghwa, you knew it was him before he even spoke. 
You nodded, as if he could see that, as you said “yes” and sat down on the bed. Seonghwa came into the room and carefully shut the door behind him before he came to sit down next to you. 
In his hand was a square, navy, velvet box, about the side of a small plate. He held it out to you with a warm smile that would have melted the coldest of hearts. You took the box from him carefully, like it would disappear at any second, and were surprised when it had a little weight to it. 
“It’s okay,” he said softly when you hesitated, putting one of his hands over yours. You looked up and met his big, brown eyes again. “It’s all yours, jagiya.” 
You just nodded, because you couldn't think of anything meaningful to say as your eyes fell back down to the box in your hands. 
You shoved away the guilt that stirred in your gut as you slowly opened the velvet case, and tears welled in your eyes all over again. 
It’s like Seonghwa knew you were buying him a choker earlier, and that you wanted something with more detail and intricacies. 
A necklace, but there were gemstones all up the chain with a larger one hanging from the bottom. The gemstones on the chain were small and simple. not trying to be in the way, but just to elevate the chain. 
The larger, square cut gemstone that hung from the ornate chain was meant to be in the way. It wasn’t obnoxiously large, no, it was just perfect. 
Everything was perfect. You were blinking back tears, it was so perfect. 
“Seonghwa, this is beautiful,” you whispered, your throat closing up. You ran your fingers over the gemstones, almost like you needed to touch it to see if it was real. 
Seonghwa was beaming, lighting up the whole room with his smile as he watched you admire the necklace. “You said you wanted something to show off.” 
“And I will.” You carefully lifted the necklace out of the box, and as you were going to put it on, Seonghwa stopped you and reached up to take it. 
“May I?” Two simple words. Words that were very small and insignificant to anyone else. 
But this moment felt like much more than just putting on a necklace. 
It almost felt sacred. Intimate. Like a ceremony. 
You nodded and gave the necklace to Seonghwa. He moved closer and wrapped it around your neck, reaching over your shoulder to clasp it behind your neck. You felt your face burn at how close he was, with his arms around you, his body enveloping yours. 
But he pulled back just a few seconds later to admire how the beautiful piece sat against your skin. Seonghwa’s eyes lit up like stars as his smile spread across his whole face again. “I knew it was perfect,” he said softly as he ran his fingers down the chain. 
If your heart could beat any harder, the large stone on the necklace would’ve started shaking. It was a bizarre feeling, to be so guilty and torn up, but so elated, and desire the man before you. 
And when Seonghwa’s eyes flicked up to yours, it’s as if he could see it all. Every tear, every smile, eerie second guess you’d ever had. Like he could see the entire month of December replaying in your eyes in those few seconds. 
There were no other words spoken as Seonghwa leaned close and pressed his lips to yours. It was a soft kiss, feather light. Loving. 
When Seonghwa laid you down on your back, your body turned to putty in his hands. Your limbs were growing weak as you wrapped them around his body. You wanted him as close as close could be, wanted to remember his taste, every soft moan as he breathed his life into every kiss, the touch of his hands on every part of your body. 
You wanted it all. And Seonghwa was more than happy to provide. 
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The first day of the new year had come and gone. The thirty one days of December went by faster than they had in previous years. 
But as you and Wooyoung loaded your bags back up into his car, you were anything but joyful. 
“We’ll visit again during Spring Break,” he reassured you as he closed the trunk. “And it’s not like you don’t have his number, you can still talk to him.” 
Wooyoung was trying his best to reassure you, but his face fell when he realized nothing was working. Everything he was telling you, you already knew it. Obviously you’d see Seonghwa again, and you’d probably be texting him at least once every few days, if not every day. 
The world was not ending. This blissful period did, but it wasn’t the end of everything. You’d be back, you’d see Seonghwa again. 
But the months between January 1st and Spring Break would be difficult after the month you’d just lived through. 
It felt juvenile. You were a grown adult in college, working towards a degree to hopefully secure a good career and have a comfortable life. You had classes to worry about, not your boyfriend who’s double your age. 
But he wouldn’t ever leave your head. You knew in your head that when you went back to class, he’d probably be there in the back of your head. 
An effort in mental gymnastics is what these next few months would hold. 
Wooyoung brought you back up to the house for your final goodbyes. Seonghwa was standing in the open doorway, dressed in a cream knitted sweater with black sweatpants. Normally, he was dressed up in some way, even if it was a pajama set. Today, he hadn’t bothered with fashion. 
Wooyoung hugged him first, squeezed him so tight, he lifted Seonghwa off the floor. For the first time that morning, you smiled as they both laughed. The noise of surprise and protest Seonghwa let out just made Wooyoung hoist him up more, until all three of you were laughing. 
“How could you put your poor eomma through such things?” Seonghwa asked in a perfectly dramatic voice as he made a show of fixing his hair and sweater. 
“As if you’re any better,” Wooyoung teased. Seonghwa just smiled and kissed his head, to which Wooyoung reciprocated with a cheek kiss. 
“Be safe, nae sarang.” 
“I will, Eomma.” 
They exchanged an “I love you” before Wooyoung walked away, and gave you a nod before he went to sit in the car to wait. 
It was like a movie scene. The sun was setting, the snow was falling. The sunset colors illuminated your face as Seonghwa gave you a half hearted smile. 
You wordlessly hugged him tightly, and he instantly returned the hug. You two stayed there in that hug, silently clinging onto each other like it would be the last time. 
It wouldn’t be the last time. Far from it. 
But you both found something that December. You found someone. And it was so special, you couldn’t bear to lose it. 
As you pulled back to look up at him, the little voice was in your head again. Telling you that you were taking this too seriously, that you shouldn’t have been so upset, that this wasn’t a big deal. 
The voice disappeared as Seonghwa pulled you into another loving kiss. The idea that this was a movie scene popped back into your head as he held your cheek and kept you close. 
You could've sworn you heard your heart break when you both pulled away. 
“Be safe,” Seonghwa softly said onto your lips. You nodded as you painstakingly pulled out of his arms. 
“I will. You too.” 
Seonghwa gave you another small smile. His eyes flicked down to the necklace that you still wore. You’d worn it every day since the night he gave it to you, and kept it in it’s case every night. 
You smiled back before you forced yourself to walk back to Wooyoung’s car. Seonghwa watched from the doorway until Wooyoung’s car disappeared, and he could no longer hear it. 
Wooyoung reached over the center console and held your hand, lacing his fingers with yours and squeezing. He didn’t need to say anything, no words needed to be said. 
But as you were swallowing back the tightness in your throat and blinking back tears, the comfort felt good. The firm squeeze was what you needed, as you both were headed back to campus, unsure of where life was going to bring you both next.
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Thank you for reading! Please reblog if you enjoyed! 💜
This is a work of fiction written by me. This does not represent the idol(s) in any way. Any re-upload is not allowed and will be reported.
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flooffybits · 2 days
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Such A Cliché
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A soulmate is a person's other half, so the pain that one feels is a pain shared with the other. However, when circumstances aren't quite agreeable, hurting your soulmate is what you end up doing anyway.
Word count: 6.2k
Warnings: getting burned, yn is an ass, yoohyeon is scared of you, sad jiu, hospitals
A/N: lmao should have been done when I told you guys about it but I wanted to add more but here you go! also please tell me if i made a mistake, i had asked a friend what is unnie in chinese because i thought it would be nicer since dongie is yn's younger sister here
☕buy me a coffee☕
Gahyeon is understandably the last to get out of bed by the time morning comes. She knows that Dong had checked in on her a while ago, but she was too sleepy to even try opening her eyes, and instead batted the older woman’s hand away, grumbling about another five minutes.
So when she finally does decide to get up and get ready, the maknae was confused to see her roommate fussing around the dorm, perfectly dressed like always. “Are you heading out, unnie?” She asked while taking a seat, welcoming the quick peck Siyeon pressed to her cheek as a good morning greeting.
The Chinese woman hummed, smiling as she grabbed her bag and then began to put her hair up into a messy bun. “I’m picking my sister up from the airport today. I thought I told you last night?”
She did. Gahyeon was just too sleepy to retain everything the older woman told her.
“I don’t know why you expect her to remember after just waking up.” Bora teases, also dressed up and ready to accompany the latter. Though her comment did earn a pout from the maknae as she glared at the dancer. “I remember! I’m just still half asleep.” She argues, earning a laugh from the woman next to her before Siyeon pulls her to a hug. “Oh, no need to be so grumpy.” She cooed and Minji finally exited her room in time to see the pair putting their shoes on.
“Oh, you’re leaving already?” She questioned, smiling when she saw the now awake maknae. “Remember to be careful, alright?” She reminds them and Bora grins while giving her a thumbs up. “Like I would let anything happen to my princess.” She says with a puff of her chest and Dong only rolled her eyes in good nature before taking her girlfriend’s hand and tugged. “Let’s go, I don’t want to have her wait too long.”
Bora allowed herself to be pulled out of the dorm, waving goodbye while Dong shouted a quick ‘be right back’.
Once the door closed behind the pair, Gahyeon turned to the leader with her brows pinched together. “I forgot that Y/n unnie was coming.” She suddenly said out loud and Siyeon chuckled while she sipped her coffee. “We figured.”
Still, Gahyeon couldn’t wipe the frown off her face as she sank further in Siyeon’s arms. “Is she going to stay here?” She mumbled and Minji sent her a sympathetic look. “I don’t think so. But Dongie wants us all to hang out.” She explains, making the maknae grimace. “Come on, I know that she isn’t too fond of us, but let’s do it for Dongie.” Siyeon coaxes her before Yubin and Yoohyeon finally come to join them in the main room.
“Dong unnie and Sua unnie already left?” Yubin noted and Minji hummed in confirmation. “I don’t know how Sua unnie is going to adjust, now that Y/n unnie is moving here.” Yoohyeon muttered before Minji gave her a meaningful look. “I know that we don’t get along with her too well, but who knows? Maybe getting to see her often now could help.”
“I hope so.”
..
“Is it obvious that I’m nervous?” Bora blurted out as she scanned the crowded building. She’s been to the airport numerous times and she’s not really antsy with having this many people around her. But it was the fact that she would be seeing you again that had her fidgeting in place.
Dong gave her hand a reassuring squeeze while smiling under her mask. “Relax, unnie. It’s just my sister.” That didn’t help the dancer’s nerves at all. “It’s your sister, the same one who does not like us, by the way.” She reminds and Dong resisted the urge to sigh, her smile slipping away as she looked away.
“She’s just… not adjusted yet. My parents are warming up to me being away and being an idol but Y/n, you have to understand that we were inseparable as kids.” She explained, causing Bora’s lips to purse when she felt the tension her girlfriend was feeling through their link.
She hated that she had to be put in the middle of it all.
You weren’t a bad person, you were just indifferent because of the fact that you had your only sibling stripped away from you at such a young age. You had grown up together until she moved to study in South Korea and eventually became a trainee, going against your parents’ wishes, and leaving you feeling abandoned.
You tried to be supportive of her, but everytime you would see her with her group members, it always felt like you were being reminded of how you had lost your sister to seven people you didn’t know.
It was childish, you had to admit, but you missed her dearly. Dong was your best friend and you protected her at every given moment. So, after a promotion at work, you were given the opportunity to move to a different country. And seeing that South Korea was among your options, your answer was clear as day.
“There she is.”
Bora didn't want to bring the topic up again, knowing how it was a sensitive subject. So she bears the usual grin she always wore before waving her hand in an exaggerated manner, enough for you, and a handful of strangers, to notice the dancer.
You suppress the urge to roll your eyes as you head over, forcing a smile for your sister, and you notice as she lets go of her soulmate's hand to welcome you into a warm hug.
"I can't believe you're actually here." You hear her voice muffled against your shoulder, and your smile becomes more genuine as you pull back to give her a proper once over. "I can't either, but I'm sure you're gonna get sick of my face one of these days now." You joke and Bora smiles from the side, witnessing your true self around your younger sister.
Though as your eyes drifted to her, the dancer smiled and her wave was more tame this time around. "It's been a while. I hope your flight was fine." She attempts and you nod stiffly, expression now blank that Dong has to nudge you. "It was alright, though I think my legs would appreciate the walk."
She's a little surprised, considering you were a little more civil compared to your first meeting years ago. But she takes it either way.
"Well, let's get you to your apartment. I want to hear all about the promotion." Your sister pipes up as she takes your arm and Bora trails after you as you speak, respecting both of your privacy.
Though she does notice how you keep a slow pace to make sure that she isn't too far behind.
..
"You mean she's actually civil, now?" Siyeon asks in disbelief as she sets her cup aside. Her eyes were so wide, it looked like they were about to pop out of their sockets.
"I was expecting her to ignore me the whole time. But she was trying." Bora explained, her face showing how she was also having troubles coming to terms with your new personality. "Then again, you are Dongie's soulmate. It's possible that she's still not too happy with the rest of us but tolerates you." Yoohyeon piped up and Bora turned to her. "I know, I thought of that, too."
Currently, Dong decided to spend a few nights with you to help you adjust, which Minji allowed.
"Dongdong actually told me that they had a serious talk when she went back home." The dancer stated while leaning against Yubin's arm. "But at least she doesn't resent you. She's trying for Dong unnie's sake."
"Dami is right. I'm sure none of us want to have Dongie pick sides. I'd probably do the same if my brother ever finds his soulmate." The leader commented and Gahyeon crinkled her nose. "Unless you find yours first." She teased, making the eldest playfully roll her eyes. "Very funny, but you know I'm not rushing into finding them."
Siyeon hums, already knowing the leader's stance after all these years. "Wouldn't it be funny if your soulmate ended up being Y/n?" Yoohyeon made a sound of protest, looking scandalized as Gahyeon laughed. "Don't say that! I can't imagine Jiu unnie with someone like Y/n unnie."
Bora rolled her eyes this time. "She isn't that bad. We don't even know what she's like aside from that one time and all the stories Dongie told us." She defended and Yubin shrugged her shoulders as she laced her fingers under her chin. "That's true, but all of unnie's stories are different from what Y/n unnie showed us."
"She's a protective older sister who had to let go of her only sibling. I'm sure you can understand how painful that must have been."
No one says anything to counter that. Even when Gahyeon was an only child, she's grown to love all the girls as though they were her own family, so she can't imagine having any of them taken away from her.
Finally, after what seemed like forever, Bora spoke. "Dongie said Y/n was offering dinner for tomorrow." She looked up from her phone, the question in her eyes and Minji struggled a little to find an answer before she took a quick look around.
If Bora said you were fine, then maybe it would be alright.
"Sure. Tell them we'll meet them there."
Maybe that was her mistake.
Minji isn’t sure why, but given that you would be around more often now, she realized that you had to have some sort of civil relationship for your sister’s sake. Dong was as precious to you as she was to all of them. With you much closer now, there was no doubt that you would be around them, whether you liked it or not.
When dinner came around, Dong was leading the group through the restaurant, giving her name before they were brought to the table you had reserved for everyone, though you were nowhere in sight.
“I thought you said she was already here?” Yoohyeon asks cautiously, taking a seat and then looking around the fancy restaurant. “She sure does know how to go all out.” Siyeon comments when she looks at the various decorations and the expensive looking furniture.
Dong laughs at that, but a voice beats her into responding. “Work hard and you get rewarded, I suppose.” All heads turn to you when you finally join them and all but your sister and her soulmate straighten at your appearance.
With a nod, you take a seat beside the pair and then eye each girl. “I’ve already asked Dongie what you girls would like and ordered ahead. Though if you want to add anything, feel free to ask.” You explain, gesturing to the food that was already present on the table and answering Yubin’s silent question.
Minji shifts a little, the tension suffocating, before she decides to speak up. “It’s nice to see you again. I hope your trip was fine.” She says carefully, a kind smile on her features as you raise your eyes to meet hers. “It was alright.” Was your curt reply and Dong rolled her eyes before giving you a nudge on the side.
You give your sister a small glare before clearing your throat. “Right. Well, there was something I’ve been meaning to say.” You tell them and all eyes are on you, all of them listening very carefully while you keep a calm look on your face. “I am aware that my actions towards you all have been very childish and unpleasant.” You begin, and they aren’t sure if you notice the silent exchange they send each other or just chose to ignore it. “I didn’t make the effort to get to know any of you and merely aimed my anger and selfishness towards you all. For that, I’d like to properly apologize.”
The table is quiet for a while, the six girls looking at you in surprise and disbelief, and while you didn’t show it, you were a little nervous.
Thankfully, Yubin manages to recover before offering you a smile. “I understand why you acted the way you did, and it’s okay. I’m sure I would feel the same if I were in your shoes.”  She assures and it’s like a chain reaction before everyone starts talking. “We get it, really. Family is really important to you.” Yoohyeon is the one to say, and while it was different for her, she does understand being separated from a loved one.
Slowly, the tension starts to melt away. And while it was still a little awkward, the girls found a little bit of comfort in your presence the longer you all spoke to one another. Much like Dong when she first arrived in South Korea, you weren’t too talkative.
You were still quietly gauging each of the girls’ personalities, though you knew enough about Bora to know she would take care of your sister, soulmate or not.
They all cared for one another and you could see that your little sister was, in fact, happy where she was. This was her home away from home, and you didn’t have the heart to keep blaming these girls when they made sure she was loved and taken care of.
Resigning to that fact, you decided that maybe this was for the best. You couldn’t cling to your childhood forever and it was probably time to move on.
While you're so stuck in thought, you failed to catch how Yoohyeon had accidentally knocked a bowl with her hand, effectively spilling its contents. Unfortunately, the soup in it was still hot and you were quick to wince when it came in contact with your skin.
What no one was also expecting though, was the yelp that came from across your seat. Minji had clutched her left hand in an attempt to soothe the sudden ache and Dong looked more than surprised as you cradled the exact same hand.
“Unnie, are you alright?" Gahyeon’s question caught your ears and Siyeon’s eyes widened as both you and the leader answered at the same time.
“I'm okay."
The table grew silent as the two of you finally looked up, Minji’s face growing pale when she realized what was happening. She had kept her soulmate link open, and by doing so led her connection to experience the same pain her soulmate was experiencing.
That soulmate… was you.
“I'm, uh, going to ask for more napkins." Yubin quietly muttered as she swiftly left the table and Gahyeon squirmed as her eyes shifted from one person to another. The silence was deafening at this point and Dong wasn't sure how to proceed as she looked towards Bora.
The dancer looked worried above all else, but the disbelief still showed. “I think-”
"Excuse me.”
Dong made a sound of protest as she watched you get up and leave the table. "Jie!” With a quick nod from her girlfriend, your sister quickly followed after you while the rest of the girls did their best to process what just transpired.
"So Jiu unnie’s soulmate…" 
“I can't believe you jinxed it!" Yoohyeon squeaked while Siyeon tended to the leader’s hand, making sure it didn't hurt too much. “Oh god, Jiu unnie is… no, I can't even think about it.” Bora rolled her eyes at the maknae’s antics before she took the napkins from Yubin’s hands and began to wipe away the spilled soup. “Stop acting like Y/n’s some sort of disease."
“But she hates us!" Yoohyeon protested. “How can she be Jiu unnie’s soulmate?" Minji, who had been quiet the whole time, finally snaps out of her daze before looking around to assess what was happening.
She took note of the absence of you and Dong, so she's quickly on her feet and catching everyone off guard. “Unnie?" 
“Where are they?" She almost feels panicked at the thought that you’d left, but Siyeon gently tugs her back down to sit. “Unnie, I think you need to let them talk and let Y/n calm down." She says softly and the leader purses her lips together. "But I… we…"
Bora frowns at her friend before shaking her head. “Just let them talk for now, okay?" And as much as Minji wants to go and chase after you right now, she reluctantly obliged, sitting stiffly in her seat while the others did their best to try and distract her.
It takes around ten minutes before Dong is walking back, a regretful look on her face, and Minji’s shoulders tense up when she doesn't see you anywhere. “Unnie went home." Oh.
Instantly, there's sorrow in the leader's chest with knowing that her soulmate intentionally chose to leave after finding out who she was. While you may not be on the best of terms, she at least hoped that you would open up to the idea and talk to her. Since you were now living in South Korea, she thought this might be your chance to repair the relationship that you had and maybe work on your bond.
But that didn't seem like the case.
“The food’s been paid for but… do you guys still want to stay?” Dong asks with a frown and Minji looks at her with pleading eyes. "Did she leave already?” She can't help asking and Dong gives her a look, analyzing her friend, and she's not sure whether or not she wants to answer.
But she knows Minji.
"She's waiting for her ride.”
That's all it takes for the leader to shoot out of her seat and out of the restaurant in hopes of catching you before your ride gets there. While Yoohyeon and Gahyeon wanted to protest, their respective partners both stopped them.
By the time Minji’s out the door, she feels the chill bite at her skin for a split second before it's mellowed down. Her heart skips a beat at the thought but pushes it down as she focuses on the task at hand. It doesn't take her long to find you though because there's only a few people there. She sees the way you rub your burnt hand and her own skin tingles at the slight pain that lingered.
"Can we talk?”
“You and I have no business with each other that would require-”
“You know that’s not true… not anymore at least.” You were stubborn, Minji knew that. But she wasn’t about to give up on a chance that allowed her to connect with someone on such a deeper level that even her words were no longer needed.
But you were having none of it. Soulmates be damned. You were not about to do that, not with her.
“It’s a stupid connection. It doesn’t mean anything to me.” You turn to give her a sharp look. “It shouldn’t mean anything to you either.” All words die in her throat when a car finally pulls up and you open the door, stepping inside without saying anything more than you already have.
Minji all but watches as you slip from her fingers and disappear into the night, leaving her with an aching heart and shattered hope.
..
“Unnie, are you sure?” Dong pants when she hunches over, hands on her knees while she tries to catch her breath and Minji puts away her nearly empty water bottle, blinking up at the rest of her team with an apologetic look on her face. “I’m sorry, I just keep messing up this one part.” She says regretfully and Bora gives her a look that basically screams “shut up or I just might strangle you”.
“It’s only just a little bit more practice and you girls will be free to go so don’t worry.” Sooyeon promises them and Yubin shakes her head with a grin. “It’s okay, unnie. We can handle it.” However, no one is able to pick up on the wince that the leader shows after finally stretching her arms and legs. Siyeon had only spared her a questioning stare before she’s being bothered by the overgrown puppy of the group as Bora marches in their direction.
“You alright to keep going?” Sooyeon asks her when she sees the leader staring, but Minji is quick to snap out of her thoughts and flashes a grin, nodding her head and calling everyone to attention.
The pain lingers, but she manages to push through until maybe the week after.
She quietly asked Siyeon to get her some hot packs to put on the sore area along with her legs one night before she’s just about ready to call it quits.
“Handong?”
The familiar voice meets everyone’s ears when the door opens and a dancer is quick to point to your sister, who spins around in surprise. “Jie jie! What are you doing here?” She asks when she walks over. “Actually, how did you get here?” She adds with her brows pinched together and you frown before handing her the plastic bag you were carrying. “I have a phone, you idiot.”
Bora walks over to join you, given that you were a little more welcoming of her now that you were living here and managed to get to know her on the few instances Dong had forced you to spend time together. “What’s that you got there?” She inquires while your sister finally looks at the contents of the bag, her face lighting up when she sees a few familiar names inside. “Aww! You didn’t have to come here and bring us food!” She laughed when she noticed the embarrassment on your face.
Minji blanches at the sight of you and basically shrinks next to the maknae who looks worriedly at her. “We can go out if you want, unnie.” She whispers, but the eldest only offers her a smile before shaking her head, letting out a shaky breath. “It’s okay.”
“Anyway, shouldn’t you be at work right now?” Dong asks when Bora takes the bag to set aside, telling everyone that you had gotten something for them, too. “I clocked out early. I wasn’t feeling too good.” You mumble before your sister raises a brow. “So you decided to come here instead of going home and resting?”
“I wanted to be more involved in your life.”
Your sister pauses at your words before a smile blooms across her face and a poke landed on your cheek. “You’re getting soft.” She teased and you crinkle your nose while swatting her hand away. “Shut up and go back to practice. Everyone is looking at us.”
“You love me.”
“Unfortunately.”
With a laugh, Dong skips over to join the rest of her friends while you take a seat on one of the chairs to watch them do their work. While you were someone who worked in the world of business, you were honest when you told your sister that you wished to be more involved. So you pay attention to their choreography with rapt attention.
And while you don’t intend on doing so, your eyes gravitate towards the woman who was, in your opinion, a little more sluggish than she should be. It caused your brows to raise before pain flared throughout the entirety of your left side. Immediately, your hand reaches to try and soothe it, but the pain is persistent so you’re quick to look at the raven haired woman who is trying her best to power through whatever pain she was dealing with without realizing that she still kept her soulmate link open.
Looks like you were more tired than you let on because you did the same.
However, when you began to feel the sudden influx of her pain, your frown only deepened before you decided to slowly absorb whatever it was she was feeling, feeling a little relieved when she starts to move a lot more comfortably than when you arrived.
It’s like that for the rest of their practice as you quietly watched and accepted your soulmate’s discomfort without her knowledge.
“Will you be coming over tonight?” Dong asks when she comes back to you, candy in hand, and you shake your head, wincing when the nausea hits harder. “I just wanted to watch.” She scoffs before lightly punching your arm and you almost curse at how much that hurt. “You could have just gone ahead, dummy.”
Your brows knit together and at this point, Minji was already looking at you from where she stood. “I just felt like it. Now, shut up.” You grumble before swiftly walking out of the room and your sister laughs as she chases after you. “Jie jie, come on!” But your only goal right now was to escape and hide the fact that you had used your soulmate link to help Minji despite how you’ve been ignoring her.
Hell, you’ve been making her feel like utter shit with the way you talked to her since finding out she was your soulmate, but you had no idea that she was dealing with something like this.
“Be sure to eat when you get to your dorm and don’t stay up late.” You instruct as you reach your car, a pout forming on the latter’s lips as she crosses her arms. “Since when did you turn into mom?” She asks and you give her a look before getting inside. “I mean it, Dongdong.”
Sighing, she nods her head before giving you a quick hug and then shutting your door. “I will. Get some rest, okay? You look like you’re about to pass out or something.”
Shooting her a smile, you nod to the rest of the girls over her shoulder, eyes meeting Minji’s before you finally bid them all a goodnight and drive off.
As soon as you’re out of sight, Dong just stands there, but her smile is nowhere in sight as she lowers her hand and frowns in the direction you took. “Dongie?” Bora is quick to her side, noticing the sudden shift in her mood before her girlfriend shook her head. “I’ll check on unnie tomorrow.” Is all she says before she’s leading the two of them to the van that was waiting for them.
..
While you did avoid your soulmate like the plague, you do show up to a handful of their practices ever since then. Minji obviously noticed due to how her eyes would immediately gravitate towards you whenever you entered the room. She didn't mean to, but knowing that you were her soulmate had shifted something within her and she's a little frustrated knowing how your relationship was.
But since the first visit, Minji did notice how she was slowly feeling better. And at one point she did believe that she was finally well rested without knowing that you were the actual reason that she was better. Maybe the only time that she got a hunch was when you didn't come to their practice and she could feel the same throb on her side as before you had come to visit them.
“Y/n isn't here today?" Bora voiced out one time and Minji looked up to see your sister shaking her head in response. “She hasn't been answering any of my texts either so I think she's busy at work.” Dong tells them and Minji can't help but frown.
While you were a busy person, you always had time to text your sister on your whereabouts even though you’ve been living in South Korea for a month now.
"Doesn't unnie usually still text you though?” Yubin voices out Minji’s original thoughts. Even though she's admittedly still intimidated by your presence, Yoohyeon did show concern when she notices a difference in your usual routine. “The last message she sent me was three hours ago. She should be done with work by now.” Dong mumbles while she tries to send you another text. However when there’s still no response from you, she purses her lips before finally dialing your number.
“Maybe she’s just asleep, unnie.”
“She would have told me that she was headed home at least." Dong bites her lip as she anxiously waits for you to pick up the phone. However as soon as the line connects, she breathes out a heavy sigh of relief. “Yah! What are you doing? I've been trying to contact you-"
Everyone watches as the resident cat went quiet, her expression hardening as she listened to whoever seemed to have your phone at the moment. “What room?" Is all they hear before she's thanking the person and then quickly reaching for her bag.
“Unnie, I need to go to the hospital."
Bora and Minji’s faces were both of surprise and shock, but the former says nothing more as she follows after her soulmate while the leader and the rest of the members hurried after them. "Y/n unnie is at the hospital?” Yoohyeon asks while she did her best to avoid tripping over her own feet. "What happened?”
"That's what I want to know, too.”
As everyone huddled inside the car, Dong stares at her phone with Bora gently coaxing her into talking to her. Meanwhile, Minji’s mind can't help but run around at the possible reasons as to why you would be in the hospital.
For some reason it saddens her how she can't even feel anything that you may be feeling at the moment and all she can think of is how you've cut your connection off. It stings, but she refuses to be selfish right now and focuses on keeping her member calm and the rest in check.
As soon as they get to the hospital, Dong is the first one out and is quickly asking for directions to your room. She has no room for anything else at the moment. She just needed to see where you were. So she skips the elevator and opts for the stairs, taking two steps at a time and ignoring the protests of her roommate and soulmate.
“Uh, do you know where we're going?" Yubin can't help but question. Still no response. “Dongie, slow down or you might trip." Siyeon warns, only for the said female to abruptly turn down the next corridor, causing Yoohyeon to nearly crash into the dancer’s back.
Your sister would apologize to them later, probably. Right now, she was more concerned about your condition. When her eyes spotted the room number you were in, she quickly reached for the door before pushing it open.
“Jie jie?"
Inside, she immediately finds you sitting on the hospital bed. She's quick to give you a once over before she notices the bags under your eyes and that your skin lacks color. Her brows pinch together in worry as she comes closer and you turn your head when you hear their group.
“Dongie, what are you doing here?" Minji frowns at the question, but Dong merely scoffs as she crosses her arms across her chest. “What am I doing here? What happened to you?" She all but seethes. “You weren't answering any of my texts and when I call you, it's someone from work telling me that you're at the hospital?" Your frown deepens when the guilt stems in your chest the more your sister speaks. “I told you not to overwork yourself."
The rest of the girls are a little surprised, but then again this was her sister. It was understandable that she was upset right now.
“Dongdong, calm down." Minji gently soothes as Bora grabs her soulmate’s hand. “I know you're upset, but Y/n needs to rest right now, okay?" You watch as the leader tries to coax your sister but the glare she has is still fixed on your face as she waits for an explanation.
“It's okay." You finally interrupt. Looking around, you breathe out a sigh before gesturing for everyone to take a seat. “I suppose you'll all be here for a while so please have a seat somewhere."
“Jie-"
“I'm sorry." You cut your sister off with a heartfelt apology. “I didn't mean to worry you. In fact, I didn't think this would happen in the first place." You tell her, leaning back against the bed. “What exactly happened then?”
You're quiet for a moment, carefully considering whether or not to tell the truth with all of her members present. But then again, you were seeing them in a completely different light especially after you've been experiencing how exhausted Minji’s felt ever since you arrived.
"Jiu-ssi.”
Everyone looked surprised when you called their leader, but your soulmate only looked at you as your eyes met hers. "You haven't been feeling anything for a while, have you?” It was a simple question, but Gahyeon only frowned at the implication. "Why are you asking Jiu unnie?” But Yubin had placed a hand on the maknae’s knee while Minji shifted in her seat. "Not… really. I only got a little sore after some of our practices but they pretty much went away after."
She doesn't understand why this was relevant. You'd severed your connection with her ever since you found out she was your soulmate. It was why she couldn't feel an ounce of the pain you were feeling.
“As it turns out, the pain that you've been feeling for the past month has only been accumulating."
What?
“You were experiencing some pain on your sides the day I first visited Dongie at your company. I noticed that you weren't exactly comfortable when you were dancing so I tried something.” Wait, did that mean… “When I had reopened our soulmate bond, I was able to take that pain away, along with every other discomfort you had been feeling at the time." 
Minji’s eyes widened at the admission and her back grew stiff. “I also noticed how the pain was becoming more frequent so I opted to just leave the link open." You then shake your head when you remember where you were. “Unfortunately, it looks like I've overestimated myself.”
“But I thought…”
"How come unnie never felt anything from you?” Siyeon asks when she notices that the leader was unable to find her voice. "A soulmate link can be made one way. So I opted to keep her out while letting her pain in.” Dong took your hand in hers when she took the seat closest to the bed. “You should know how exhausting that can be. You should have said something.” Your sister scolds and you only smile while squeezing her hand. "After what I said to her…" You tear your eyes away from your sister to look at your soulmate. “I thought maybe this was my way of possibly apologizing." 
Minji couldn’t believe her ears, but at the same time, she was deeply moved with how you had decided to take all of her pain away even when you had told her that it all meant nothing to you. All this time she believed that you had no care for her and yet… you had been taking care of her without her knowledge.
“I know that I overreacted when I found out, but the truth is that I’m afraid of what this link may bring me.” You finally admit with a heavy breath. “I didn’t want to have another thing possibly be taken from me again, so I opted to just push you away rather than accept you and the bond that we have.”
Sensing the sensitivity of the conversation, Dong quickly gestured for everyone to get out of the room. And while Yoohyeon wanted to protest, her soulmate placed a hand over her mouth and merely dragged her outside. Bora sent her best friend a look while Dong gave you a smile before they both closed the door, leaving the two of you alone.
“I’m sorry, Jiu-ssi. I know that you’ve been miserable since we last spoke but I guess I was too prideful to admit that I was in the wrong in the first place.” You tell her and Minji forced herself to stand back up before slowly approaching your bed.
“I… can’t say that it was okay but… I do understand where you’re coming from.” She finally says while gripping her own hands. “Your sister left, you were hurt. So now that there’s something else to lose, you’re afraid.” She had hit a nail on that one as you dropped your gaze down to your lap and Minji felt her heart skip as she stopped at the edge of your hospital bed. “But Y/n… you need to know that I don’t give up on the things that matter to me.”
You lift your head in surprise to see her already staring at you, a warm look on her face as she assesses you and you wonder deep down why she isn’t screaming at you, cursing you for hurting her. “How can you possibly forgive me?” It comes out of your mouth before you can even think, and she only gives you a smile.
“I’d like to think that I’m not like most people. And if you give me a chance… maybe we can get to know more about each other's soulmate better?”
23 notes · View notes
pussy-ache · 11 months
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#bpd#could be trauma. could be an overproduction of cortisol affecting my pituitary gland#and it’s a catch 22 for me because (if i truly have BPD) i can’t accurately assess my behaviors#like. i’d like to THINK i’m not a manipulative person but what if i am? how can i trust that i haven’t been fooling myself?#and hurting other people in the process?#but i also don’t like being the center of attention. but maybe i’m manipulative in worse ways#i also fit everything for regular BPD. not just the impulsive subtype#like i do actually believe i have this the vast majority of the time. there’s just not much that can be done#it’s like … ‘’here’s this awful terrible personality disorder. you got it. it’s a list of shit that makes you an awful person. have fun!’’#like it’s not something that i can personally investigate very often#so many studies i’ve read conclude with shit like ‘’yea this group of people sucks just like we thought. can’t trust them & there’s no cure#and i’m terrified to even ask for medical help anyway cuz it’s also one of the most stigmatized mental disorders to be diagnosed with#right up there on the same level of stigmitization that schizophrenia gets — which also runs in my family incidentally#and my family members who developed it did so in their 30s-50s …. symptoms didn’t start until super late#consistently afraid of my own mind and personality with nowhere to turn. i can’t subject that on anyone.#which proves the inabilily to retain long lasting meaningful relationships correct#i have a history of dipping early#and i’ve been called cold and distant in a relationship. i retain too much independence.#superficial stings a little#all my life it’s like ‘’wow i feel a lot. i might be an empath’’#and in reality it’s ‘’no actually. i have a personality disorder that amounts to me being an overbearing crappy person that feels a lot.’’#here’s some studies that prove that#i’m just a very. very. very. tired person#sigh
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formulafics · 2 months
Text
❀ MAKE IT REAL | OP81
Scenario: basically ‘the winner takes all’, but oscar edition…or, the one where despite yn being the closest to oscar, no one suspects the two to be dating. that is, until a video of the pair at a valley concert comes out. (inspired by the song ‘Cure’ by Valley (bless @renarots for this one))
Pairing: oscar piastri x fem!reader
A/N: squadron, it is an oscar day. it took me entirely too long to get to this request, but i’ve finally made it. i hope you guys like this fic as much as i liked making it 🫶🏻
MASTERLIST
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ynln on instagram
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liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, logansargeant, and 92,431 others
ynln happy halloween 🎃😚
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landonorris why is oscar standing like that
⤷ ynln he’s just a boy leave him alone
papayabull MY BABIES THEYRE SO CUTE
dreamyalbon this friendship is everything to me
⤷ formulaferrari not a single thing about yn and oscars relationship is giving “friends” but okay
⤷ dreamyalbon there’s no way they’re anything more than friends though 😭
rizzciardo the way yn’s whole feed is becoming oscar is so funny
formulaverstappen who’s gonna tell them that daphne and fred had a romantic relationship
⤷ ln4nation to be fair, it’s pretty common for friends to go as romantic duos, platonically.
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ynln on instagram
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liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, maxfewtrell, riabish, logansargeant, and 142,211 others
ynln the best mornings ☀️ (also i made oscar the bracelet he’s wearing in the third slide i feel so proud of myself)
view all 3,456 comments
oscarpiastri ❤️
riabish second slide 🥹
⤷ norrisnation ria and yn’s friendship is my favorite thing ever
dreamyalbon yn making oscar a bracelet is so cute </3
formulaferrari another day, another oscar post from yn. i love it here
landosbeachball THE ONLY BESTIES EVER 🫶🏻 the slide of them holding hands omg
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f1wagsdaily on Instagram
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13,621 likes
f1wagsdaily do you think yn ln is dating anyone on the grid? if so, who? 👀
(left to right) yn and lando, yn and daniel, yn and charles
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norrisnation im so convinced that if it’s anyone it’s danny ric 😭 how do you go to music festivals and football games together so often and NOT date
⤷ charlesrrari yes but also they don’t hang out NEARLY as much anymore? also to be fair, yn’s closest friend - oscar aside - is lando, so it’s kind of natural that she would be in the mclaren garage more, so it just SEEMS like it’s daniel? idk im not convinced that it’s him
formula44 idk i feel like lando is the only one that makes sense
⤷ papayabull what about oscar?
⤷ formula44 idk i just can’t see them together
xf1x oscar piastri (solely based on how much they’re togwther)
⤷ papayanorris lore drop: yn rejected oscar in f3 because he was too busy so id imagine it’s the same now 🤷🏻‍♀️
⤷ xf1x to me that makes it seem more likely since that means they were obviously interested in each other?
⤷ papayanorris good point but maybe theyve moved on? 👀
⤷ pastrypiastri okay but imagine dating oscar and he’s THAT close with another girl, and same with yn being that close with another guy? idk this thread might have put me on the ynoscar agenda 🤭
shumirrari wild guess: jenson button (if you know you know)
⤷ chilisainz what am i missing?
⤷ shumirrari basically lando and jenson button are sort of friends so lando introduced yn to jenson at a race, and lando took pictures of them together. i’m pretty sure yn posted them a while back? idk but it was just a silly guess (her and jenson would be cute though, but i highly doubt it’s them LMAO)
formulaferrari i am TIRED why does no one have faith in the oscyn agenda
⤷ formulaferrari also does no one notice that oscar always is kind of shy around yn or am i actually delusional on this one
⤷ charlesrrari wait lowkey you’re onto something rn 👀
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grandprixsandgossip on Instagram
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liked by ynln and 24,532 others
grandprixsandgossip Oscar Piastri and Yn Ln, a known friend of many drivers on the grid, seen kissing outside of a concert arena last night.
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norrisnation girl there’s three pixels on my screen that could be anyone
papayabull oscar jack piastri what are you DOING
piastrisgirl never, and i mean NEVER, did i expect that out of all the f1 drivers, oscar would be the one where we find out about his girlfriend like this
ln4world this cannot be real
formulaferrari SCREAMING IM INSANE THIS IS EVERHTINH TO ME
stardustf1 okay but wasn’t oscar wearing a hoodie in the other picture that the one guy posted?
⤷ rizzciardo yes, but i’m assuming oscar took the hoodie off and gave it to yn, because not only can you see her wearing a hoodie in this picture (even though it’s blurry, it looks like the same one oscar was wearing), AND ria posted a story of her and yn goofing off after the concert where yn was wearing a black hoodie so 👀
chilisainz were not gonna mention yn in the likes?
⤷ norrisnation she’s having her pierre moment 🤷🏻‍♀️
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ynln on Instagram
🎶 Cure - Valley
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liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, alex_albon, danielricciardo, and 124,521 others
ynln concerts are my heaven, but they’re paradise when i’m with him 🫶🏻 @/oscarpiastri is my concert buddy for life whether he wants it or not
view all 3,452 comments
landonorris but are you dating or?
⤷ ynln i’m gonna need you to be so fr rn lando
oscarpiastri fortunately for us, i’m more than happy to be your concert buddy. ❤️
⤷ ynln music to my ears 😚
riabish literally the cutest couple i know *liked by ynln*
princepiastri THE CAPTION, OSCARS COMMENT, THE PICTURES?? THIS IS THE WORST DAY OF MY LIFE
formula44 yn im sorry for not believing in you and oscar
dreamyalbon AND WHOS GOING TO MENTION THE SONG??
⤷ yukit22enthusiast AS A VALLEY LOVER I AM RIGJT THERE WITH YOU
formulaferrari THE FACT THAT THESE SRE ALL DIFFERENT CONCERTS OH MYGOD
formulaferrari i can finally call them my parents and not get flamed
papayabull and so whatever you do don’t listen to the song because i’m so upset
⤷ stardustf1 someone harassed(/j) the guy who took the picture of them at the concert into telling them what song was playing when he took that picture and it was cure 🫠💔
⤷ papayabull NOOOOO it’s officially their song, i don’t make the rules
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TAGLIST
@renarots @jsjcue @treehouse-mouse @lovstappen @illicitverstappen @vellicora @lokietro @arkhammaid @piasstrisblog @leclercvsx @i-love-ptv @pretty-little-bunny382728 @kortneej81 @elliegrey2803 @marshmummy @spidersophie @stopeatread @minkyungseokie @jellyfish123guts @harrysdimple05 @fastcarsandshit @motorsp0rt @sadieurlady @cixrosie @hiireadstuff
Thank you for reading! All feedback is appreciated 💞
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mrsbarnesblog · 6 months
Text
Jersey
masterlist ko-fi ao3
College! Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: Natasha’s idea of getting a jersey with Bucky’s name turned out to be much better than you expected.
Word count: 3.2K
Warnings: smut, established relationship, college, football player bucky is a biggest warning tbh, he's so in love, locker room sex, nat is good friend, unprotected sex, creampie, aftercare.
Author's note: honestly one of my favorite fics because college athlete bucky is my biggest weakness (I should probably write about him more often)💘
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It’s been another game for the "Avengers", where your boyfriend Bucky Barnes was a quarterback. Today was one of the most important games against "Hydra" – their biggest enemy. Obviously, you couldn't miss the game, and Natasha, your best friend and roommate, will be with you as always. And right now, she has convinced you to do something that has been on your mind for a long time.
"C’mon, It’ll be fun. He’ll like it, I promise!" She said as you two stood near the place that made custom t-shirts with any prints. And at this moment, Natasha wanted you to order a jersey with Bucky’s number and his name on it.
"I don’t know, Nat. I mean, I want to do it, but what if he thinks that it’s too much?" You nervously played with the hem of your skirt.
"Now stop it." She stood before you and put her hand on her hips like a mother who was scolding her child. "You’ve been dating for more than a year, and his guy loves you so fucking much that he can’t even tear his eyes from you every time you two are in the same room. So when I tell you that he’ll love it, I mean it." You silently looked at her for a few minutes, but when she questionably raised her eyebrow, you finally gave up.
"Fine, you won. I hate you."
"I love you too, baby." Nat chuckled and dragged you to the store.
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It seemed like there were thousands of people because everyone wanted to see one of the most important games of the season. People were already taking their seats, but you and Nat went straight to the locker room to wish the guys good luck. Trainer Fury was very strict about this, and it was forbidden for people not from the team to go there, but for some reason Nat always found a way to solve this problem.
"Guys!" Natasha loudly knocked at the door. "Are all of you already dressed up? I’m not in the mood to see somebody’s ass today!"
"Come in!" You heard Thor’s loud voice.
"Oh, I see our support group is here." As soon as you two walked in, Sam ended up between you and Nat and threw his hands over your shoulders, leading you deeper into the room. "Barnes will be here soon; don’t worry."
"Okay. Are you guys ready to beat their asses?" You smiled and looked at the almost entire team that had come to see you and Nat.
"Don’t worry, Sweets, we’ll win, as always." Tony answered you while he was cleaning his helmet. "But you should tell your boyfriend to stay away from Rumlow, or else he’ll be suspended again. By the way, is that jersey with his name?" You quietly nodded as the whole team made an impressive ‘woo’ together.
"You two are disgustingly sweet, you know that?" Sam rolled his eyes, and at the same time, the door slammed. "It’s him; go give him some kisses for luck."
"Shut up, Samuel." You laughed and left their little circle to find Bucky looking at his phone. "Don’t you want to say hi, James?" He moved his eyes to you, and his face immediately lit up with happiness.
"I just wanted to text you." He threw his phone on the bench and came closer to wrap his arms around you. "Hi, doll. I missed you so much today." He mumbled into your neck.
"I missed you too, Buck." You smiled when your heart filled with all the love you had for that man. "But wait, I have to show you something." You slipped out of his hands, excited and nervous at the same time. "Look what I’ve got!" You happily turned around to show Bucky your back and flipped your hair to the side so he could see everything better. "Do you like it?"
You had a big red jersey on you, to which Bucky didn't even pay attention at first. But when you turned around, his mouth went dry and his whole body became fuzzy. You had his number 17 and the word "Barnes" on your back. You were wearing his last name on your back.
For a few seconds, he was silent. He didn't answer your answer either, so with confusion written on your face, you faced him again, only to see a weird look on his face.
"What? You don't like it? Should I take this off? I'm sorry…" You started to apologize, only to be interrupted by his low voice.
"Don't you dare take this off, Y/N." He suddenly came closer to you again, and the next thing you knew, your back was slapped against the metal lockers when Bucky’s lips attacked you. He kissed you passionately and deeply, pressing his body against yours as if he was desperate to touch you and feel you closer. You couldn’t hold back the quiet moan that escaped your mouth when he tilted your head with his hand, helping his tongue slip into your mouth.
You thought that you heard the screams of the boys on the other side of the room, but they were really muffled when your head was filled with the thought of your boyfriend’s soft lips and warm skin. Bucky finally broke the kiss, leaving you two catching your breath while he put his forehead on yours and closed his eyes.
"You don’t understand what you’re doing to me. You look so fucking hot in this jersey, I want to fuck you right now." He whispered so only you could hear. "You made me hard, doll." To prove his words, he pushed his hips a little bit closer to you so you could feel the hardness.
"‘M sorry; I didn’t know that you would react like that."
"Hey, Buck, we should already go." Bucky’s grip on your waist became only tighter, when he heard Steve’s voice, and he nuzzled into your neck.
"Give me a minute."
"The game is gonna start soon."
"I said, give me a minute, Steve!" He said it louder. Bucky deeply inhaled, and it was obvious that he just needed some time to calm down.
"Shh, it’s okay, James." You put your hands through his hair because you knew that it would instantly relax him. "You're gonna win this game, right? And without fights." 
"I’ll do everything for you. I just love you so much, doll." He whispered into your neck when his body finally relaxed and he was able to move away from you.
"I love you too, James." He quickly kissed you again before turning around to face the team, who had knowing smirks on their faces.
"You two should get a room." Sam had an annoyed look on his face.
"Don’t worry, Birdbrain, we will. Are you ready for the game, or are you gonna stand here and complain all day?" Bucky winked at you and went out of the room without waiting for the answer from Sam.
"So…" Natasha suddenly appeared near you. "Did you make The White Wolf hard by just wearing a shirt with his name on it?" She grinned, as it was her original plan that worked.
"Oh, shut up!"
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The game was tough. Hydra played dirty as always, and Bucky almost got into a fight with Rumlow during the intense moment. You almost jumped out of the seat during the last few minutes of the game, and when "Avengers" finally won, you and Natsha screamed at the top of your lungs.
As soon as the team was done cheering and hugging, Bucky looked at the seat where you were supposed to be but saw only Nat, who pointed at you already standing near the rim. He ran to you with the biggest smile on his face, and when he finally reached you, he crushed his lips into yours.
You didn’t care that many people looked at you, even though you knew that some particular groups of girls would gossip about it for the next week because… well, everyone wanted your boyfriend. You just wrapped your hands around his sweaty neck and pulled him closer to you as far as you could with a fence between you two.
"I’m so proud of you, baby." You whispered into his lips. "You were amazing as always."
"Thank you, doll. I'm happy that you’re here with me." He looked into your eyes as his right thumb rubbed your cheek.
"You know I couldn’t miss your game, especially if it’s that important."
"Mhm, can you… come to the locker room in like twenty minutes?" Bucky nervously licked his lips.
"To the locker room? I thought we were going to celebrate it with the team as always."
"Maybe later, but I’m thinking of something, so come, ‘kay?" He started to go back to the field, but not before giving you another sweet kiss on the lips.
***
You sat in the cafeteria for about twenty minutes, passionately waiting for the appropriate time to go to the locker room because you really didn’t want to see another naked man that wasn’t your boyfriend. One such experience was enough for you. You asked Nat to come with you, but when you repeated Bucky’s words to her, she just gave you a mysterious smirk and patted you on the shoulder, saying that you better go there alone.
When you finally got there and knocked on the door, you heard only Bucky’s voice, who told you to come in.
"James? What’s going on?" You asked as you came further into the room. It was empty except for Bucky, who came out of nowhere and locked the door. "What are you doing?"
He didn’t answer you; he just crossed the room, kissed you, and pushed your back into the metal lockers, just as he did it a few hours ago. He was greedy, passionate, and a little bit too rough, so you couldn’t keep the moan from escaping your mouth. Bucky’s hands squeezed your hips and then went higher under your jersey.
"Bucky…" You pulled away from the kiss, but he took advantage of it and started kissing your neck. Your eyes rolled back as you squeezed his shoulders and completely forgot everything you wanted to say. He sucked your soft skin into his mouth and even bit you. It was obvious that he desperately wanted to leave dark marks on your neck, but, honestly, you didn’t care. He smelled too good fresh out of the shower, with his bare chest and low-rise gray sweatpants, and his mouth… God, you knew what his mouth could do. "Baby, we can’t do it here."
"We can, and we will." He left your neck and looked at you, leaving only a few inches between your faces. "You can’t imagine how hard it was for me not to bend you over the closest surface when you showed me that fucking shirt. With my name on it? So everyone could see that you’re mine?" Bucky licked his already swollen lips. You pressed your thighs together, feeling how wet you were. He definitely felt that motion because his eyes became darker, and he looked like he was going to devour you at that same place.
"James…" You quietly whimpered, not being able to hold yourself anymore.
"Baby, fuck– doll, I love it when you call me that. You drive me insane." He decided not to lose any more time, so his hands went straight to the button of your jeans. He helped you get out of them, not losing a chance to touch your bare legs. "Now turn around, baby." You heard a deep moan, probably when he saw the back of the shirt again.
"Bucky, please." You whispered when you felt that more juices came out of you. You loved when your boyfriend became needy and possessive.
"Look at you, doll. You're already ready for me, and I haven’t even touched you yet." He said that when he put his hand over your pussy, he probably felt the heat and pulse. "I would’ve eaten you out, but I need you too fucking much, so I promise to do it when we get to my place."
"O-okay, just do something, please." You pushed your ass back and heard a loud, deep moan as soon as you touched Bucky’s hard cock through his pants. You put your hands behind your back to try to push down his clothes, and at the same time, Bucky removed your black thongs.
You felt his hard cock on the bare skin of your ass, the tip already leaking with pre-cum. Bucky squeezed your ass with his hands and moved his hips. His perfectly shaped cock grinded against your wet folds, and you couldn’t stop a whimper from escaping your throat.
"Please, don’t tease me–" You didn’t even finish the sentence when Bucky moved forward and buried himself deep inside of you. The mixture of pain and pleasure washed over you, and you didn’t even realize that you moaned too loudly. He was too perfect, filling you completely and stretching you around him in the most delicious way.
"Sh-h, sweetheart, you don’t want other people to hear you, right?" One of Bucky’s hands slipped under your shirt and laid on your stomach, and the other one covered your mouth, pulling you closer to his chest. "Good girl." He mumbled into your ear when you shook your head.
Bucky pulled away from you, still staying deep inside of your heat, letting you adjust to his size. He put one hand from your mouth on your back, which made you lean forward toward the lockers. The cold metal cooled your hot skin, but it still felt like you were burning inside.
Bucky finally started moving his hips, and the filling of his dick coming in and out of you made you almost faint. You two had sex a million times, but it still amazed you how full and satisfied he made you feel.
"That’s right, doll. You’re so greedy for my dick, huh?" He started to go faster, and you tried to move your body to his rhythm. "Was this your plan? Showing me that fucking jersey, so I could fuck you like a little slut you actually are?" His hand went over your back, tracing letters on your shirt with his fingers, and his motions became harder. In fact, it wasn’t your idea, but you should definitely thank Natasha because you really didn’t expect your boyfriend to become even more obsessed with you.
Your mouth opened in a silent scream, and you clenched around Bucky’s cock, making him moan. "I feel how you’re clenching ‘round me. I know that you like it when I call you my slut. Only mine." 
"Yes, Bucky– James, please." A sudden slap on your right cheek pulled another moan out of you, and Bucky just chuckled, knowing that you’re always loud with him.
"Please what, baby?"
"Let me cum, please– James! I’m so close." You felt too overwhelmed with pleasure, not even realizing that you started crying when his fingers moved to your clit, drawing little circles there.
"Fuck, one day I’m gonna make you Mrs. Barnes, so you will have a well-damn reason to wear this shirt." He deeply chuckled, moving harder and harder into you. More nasty sounds of skin slapping into skin and your not-so-quiet moans filled the room. "Can you imagine that, baby? Being my cute little wife, who likes when I fuck the shit out of her? Poor doll, crying. Can’t even handle my cock deep inside your pussy, can’t you?" He moved even deeper into you, and that was it.
"God– James!" You slammed your hands on the metal near your face, trying to find something to hold onto, as the wave of heat and extreme pleasure covered your whole body and mind. Your legs trembled, and the only thing that kept you straight was Bucky’s strong hands. He felt that you were over the edge, that you couldn’t stand on your legs, and he definitely felt more juices coming out of you. He looked down and saw how his shiny cock was coming in and out of your pussy that was particularly choking him, and that sight threw him over the edge. With the last movement, he pulled your body into him, wrapping his hands around you and releasing his hot seed deep inside of you.
You both moaned at the feeling of you being so full of his cum that it had already started dripping down your thighs.
"That’s it, baby." Bucky whispered into your ear. "You did so well. Are you okay?" He left light kisses on your cheek.
It was too intense; not a single thought came to your head, and for a few seconds you tried to put yourself together.
"Mhm." It was the only thing that you were able to answer because your body was still trembling with the leftovers of your intense orgasm.
You two stayed in that position for a few minutes until Bucky realized that you had become too sleepy. He tried to pull out, but you grabbed his hand.
"‘m too sensitive." You almost cried.
"I know, sweetheart, but now I have to clean you and take you home." Bucky gently came out of you, and your body got goosebumps at the feeling of his cum leaking out of you. It took him all the strength not to shove it back into you with his fingers, but you were obviously too tired, and he couldn’t properly take care of you since you weren’t at his or your bedroom.
Bucky fell on his knees, quickly took a towel from his bag on the floor, and carefully cleaned the mess between your thighs. He reached for your panties, helped you put them back, leaving a soft kiss on your leg, and then helped you sit on the bench.
He looked at your sleepy and tired face while putting on his clothes.
"Hey, doll? You’re too quiet. Is everything okay? Was I too rough?"
"I’m ‘kay, it was just as intense as when you make me come many times in one night. Just help me with my jeans; I can’t feel my legs."
"Of course, sweetheart." He helped you with your pants and then fixed your messy hair. You couldn’t imagine how you must’ve looked right now. "I love you so much. Thank you for being here today. You’re truly the best thing that ever happened to me." Bucky kissed your forehead and wrapped his hands around your body, standing up with you.
"I love you too, Buck. So so much." You happily buried your face into his neck, knowing that your boyfriend was going to take care of everything.
He picked up his bag and keys for the locker room and came out of there. Bucky didn’t even close the door when he heard a familiar voice.
"Do not tell me that you two did what I think you did!" Sam was standing there a few steps away with disgust and shock on his face. "I didn’t expect that from you, Y/N/N." He joked.
"Sorry, Sam." You moved away from Bucky’s neck and tried to give Sam your best apologetic smile.
"Well, I’m not. Since you’re here, close the door, Birdbrain; we hurry."
Sam stood there for a few more moments after Bucky left with you in his arms.
He decided that the headphones that he left in the room could wait until another time.
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prettyfastcars · 3 months
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dangerous, tainted, and flawed | Dark!Mob!Lando
Summary: You met your husband under disturbing circumstances a couple of years ago. Your home was under attack one night, by one of your family’s rivals, and Lando – one of your father’s allies – came to help. He found you in your bedroom that night, and managed to save you but unfortunately no one else in your family survived the attack. You were distraught after that night, having lost everything, but Lando took care of you. Eventually, you two fell in love, he proposed, and you got married. Your life has been perfect ever since. Sure, you missed your family but you thanked the gods everyday for Lando. However, you didn’t know the whole truth about that night, did you? 
Themes: dark!lando, explicit language, smut, fluff, mentions of death, loss, and violence, possessive!lando
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“Baby?” He called out, “I’m home.” 
His voice echoed in the foyer. 
The house was so spacious that often you couldn’t hear him when he called out for you, and he knew that. That’s why instead of calling out again, he followed the sweet smelling scent and the soft music instead. Both came from the kitchen; the smell of warm muffins and a soft woman’s voice singing about chemtrails over a country club. 
Lando leaned against a wall quietly for a minute, smiling to himself as he watched you moving around in the high-ceilinged, farmhouse style kitchen. You didn’t know he was here yet. You were busy mumbling the lyrics of the song while chopping veggies, probably making dinner and baking muffins all at the same time. 
Cooking calmed you down, ‘It’s therapeutic’ you once told him. And he’d been married to you for not too long but he knew that this is what you did whenever you had a long day at work. You were a successful gallerist and often you had to deal with snobbish people, or ‘young money kids who had no true appreciation for art’ as you also told him. 
He let his eyes take you in. You were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, prettier than anything you’d ever exhibited he often told you, but the way you squirmed in embarrassment told him that you didn’t really believe it. That’s fine though, he’d spend a whole lifetime reminding you of that anyway. 
Once he was done ogling, that damn pale pink corset top of yours driving him insane as it was, he finally walked up to you and surprised you by wrapping his arms around you from behind. “There you are, baby,” He said, shoving his face into your neck and giving you as many kisses as he could. 
You giggled and tried to get away as he attacked your neck with kisses and soft bites but he tightened his grip around you. 
“Fuck, you smell so good.” He groaned, voice muffled now that he was nuzzling your neck like he always does. “I missed you so much.” 
“Lando,” You laughed, “I’m holding a knife!” You squealed, laughing and still trying to escape his ticklish kisses before any one gets hurt. “Okay you seriously need to shave, that stubble of yours hurts.” You managed to get him to stop. You placed the knife down and turned to face him as you leaned against the counter, caressing his cheeks as you cupped his face in your hands. “Too rough.” You commented, rubbing your fingers across his barely visible, but spiky stubble. 
He raised an eyebrow at you, his handsome face lighting up with mischief. “Is it?” He teased, “You weren’t complaining about it being too rough this morning.” He leaned in to whisper into your ear, purposely rubbing his cheek against yours, “Were you, baby?” 
Ah. This morning… 
You woke up feeling… funny. You opened your eyes and found that your husband wasn’t in his usual spot beside you on the bed. Instead he was busy down there, between your legs. You lifted the soft covers and found him looking up at you with nothing but desire and trouble in his eyes. 
You let out a soft moan when he held your stare while kissing your clit, and sucking on it before letting go. “Morning, baby.” He whispered, then got back to eating you out like he was starving. 
You threw the covers off and slid your fingers into his hair instead, “Lando…” You whined, the pleasure taking over you. “I’m gonna be late for work.” You mumbled, already feeling yourself getting to the edge. “I have clients waiting for me, you know? I have meetings, and…” You gasped, forgetting what the hell you were talking about in the first place once he began fucking you gently with his tongue. 
Damn his tongue and soft lips. 
Lando chuckled, a cocky look in his eyes when he pulled away and asked, “Meetings and what, baby?” 
“Don’t be a tease,” You groaned, shoving his mouth back to where you wanted him. He chuckled before working his tongue against your wet slit, his fingers slowly sliding in and out of you until you came with a soft cry. 
But he wasn’t done yet… 
Lando smirked as he looked at you, surely thinking back to this morning as well. 
You rolled your eyes at him. “You did get me late for work, you know?” You shook your head, turning back around to focus on the food that you were making. “Then there’s that anonymous collector,” You sighed. Lando wrapped his arms around you from behind again, placing his chin on your shoulder and gently swaying you side to side as you ranted a little bit. “I don’t mind them, whoever they are,” You said, “I do sell them a lot of stuff but why can’t they just show their face? It’s weird, you know, having a client without a face.” You sighed, “And then a really important meeting got cancelled. And one of the artists’ whose work is about to be exhibited soon is being a real brat.” 
Lando hummed, occasionally kissing your neck and shoulder as you complained a little more. “I’m sorry you had a tough day, baby.” He mumbled, kissing around your ear, “Want me to handle this collector for you? Or the artist?” 
You chuckled, knowing the nature of your husband’s work and his temper, “No. Please don’t.” You added, “I love my work, it’s just a bad day, that’s it.” 
“Okay,” He kissed along your exposed shoulder, “Then how about a bath? You want that? Or how about some wine?”  
You leaned into touch, “Bath for later,” You said, “The wine for now, please.” 
“Yes, my lady,” Lando let go of you with one final kiss on the side of your head.
You watched him as he left the kitchen. He took his suit jacket off and rolled the sleeves of his white shirt up to his elbows. Then before he turned to head to the wine cellar, he gave you a wink, acknowledging that he gave you a little strip show. You shook your head at him. 
Once alone in the kitchen, you smiled to yourself as you thought about how far you and Lando had come in just a few years. 
Your smile faded into a sad one as you thought about the day, or night rather, you first met him. 
The sounds of gunshots and screams woke you up. You couldn’t hear anything but the chaos outside your bedroom. Bullets, screams, orders being shouted, furniture being wrecked, glass being broken, more screams… all of it muffled as you ran into your walk-in closet and hid in the dark. 
You couldn’t stop the silent tears from streaming down your face. You knew what this meant. It was an ambush. And you also knew that a few hours ago might have been the last time you saw your family. You just hoped they made it out alive. But no one was barging into your room yet… this meant that the fight was happening downstairs. 
You cried some more as you heard more yelling, more gunshots. 
This life, this family you were born into came with situations like this. Your father told you this since you were a child. He was well-known amongst gang leaders and mob bosses, which meant he had more enemies than friends. Sometimes those two were the same people. But your father had kept you hidden for most of your life, away from all this. 
The only reason you were even home tonight was because it was your birthday. You’d begged your father to let you celebrate it at home with everyone… 
You didn’t remember passing out in that closet. You didn’t know what happened or how you were found, just that you were. And when you woke up, you were face to face with a handsome young man with pretty eyes who reassured you that you were safe. 
He said he and his family were friends of your father’s. And that he was sorry but you were the only survivor of that attack. Your family was gone, your house was gone. All was gone. 
The year which followed was the hardest of your life. Grieving, dealing with so many losses, moving on with a heavy heart, getting the help you needed, finally learning how to stand on your own feet again… you couldn’t have done it without Lando. 
He was your rock. Always there when you needed to cry, to share a laugh, to make silly jokes, on days when you wanted to spend hours in bed, on nights when you had nightmares, on days when you felt light and happy, on days when your heart broke all over again, on days when it felt like you were finally healing, he was always there. 
He was a busy man, but he made time for you. 
Falling in love with him was easy. The easiest thing you’d ever done. So when time came, and he got on one knee and asked you to marry him, saying yes was the easiest thing you’d ever done. You knew you were both young, but he was it for you. 
Becoming his wife felt like a dream. Like you were a real princess marrying her knight in shining armour, the one who saved her from every bad thing and promised to protect her fiercely forever. Except your knight wasn’t altruistic, he didn’t come on a white horse and with a sword. Yours was dangerous, tainted and flawed. He came with power, money, guns, and expensive cars. 
“It better be thoughts of me that you’re lost in and not that anonymous collector,” His voice brought you back to the present. “Otherwise I might have to hunt them down and make them disappear forever.” Lando joked as he handed you a glass of your favourite red. 
You leaned against the counter, facing him as you took a long sip. Then you said, “I was thinking about you actually.” 
That cheered him up immediately. “Yeah? Do tell then.” 
You smiled faintly. “Just thinking about how lucky I am that I have you.” You avoided his eyes after. You always did whenever you felt slightly emotional. You always tried to seem stronger than you felt in the moment. 
Lando placed his glass down and came over to wrap you in his arms immediately. Somehow, he always knew when you needed a hug. You wrapped your arms around him and let out a sigh, your heart already feeling lighter just by being in his arms. 
“I’ve got you, baby. Don’t worry.” Lando said softly, his familiar scent already making you feel better. “You’re safe here, with me.” He reassured you. Lando knew you still had a fear somewhere, about being attacked like that night. But he often also reminded you that he was the most powerful man in this city, and no harm was coming your way as long as he lived. 
He often wondered whether you realised how lucky he felt that you were his. That night, when he found you passed out on the floor in the walk-in closet, something in him shifted. He knew he had to keep you safe, always. 
“Thank you,” You murmured against his white shirt. 
Lando pulled away to look down into your eyes. Fuck, he hated it when you cried. It felt like he was being torn apart. He quickly wiped that one tear which barely escaped your eyes and said, “You never have to thank me for taking care of you.” He said with a slight frown. 
“I know,” You whispered and pulled him in for a kiss. A slow, gentle kiss that quickly turned into a heated, passionate one. His hands grabbed you by the hips and pulled you into him, so you could feel the very prominent bulge in his pants. 
It made you whimper just feeling it. “Fuck,” You mumbled against his lips, “Will I ever stop wanting you like this?” Your shaky hands reached down to undo his belt, then just as you reached for his zipper, your stomach grumbled so loudly you were sure all the guards outside could hear it too. 
You both froze at the sound of it, then burst out laughing. Lando threw his head back and laughed so carefreely that you fell a little bit more in love with him at that moment. You didn’t think that was possible, but here you were. 
“I would love to bend you over the counter right here baby,” He chuckled, “but I feel like we need to get some food in you.” He said, kissing your cheek and pulling away to look at you as you tried to hide your face in embarrassment. “Hey, look at me.” He grabbed you by the chin and lifted your head up. “Let’s eat, and I’ll fuck you later. Okay? I promise.” 
You gave him a shy smile, “Okay.” 
After a light dinner filled with more laughter and easy conversations, Lando helped you with storing away the cooled off muffins before the two of you finally got into that bath, with another bottle of wine. 
You carefully poured some more wine into your glass before leaning back into Lando’s chest. You sighed again, settling against him. This was your happy place. Scented candles, dimmed lights, warm bath, wine, and of course, the love of your life. 
But then as always, Lando could never keep his hands to himself. It always starts out with innocent touches, along your arm, kissed on your shoulders… then he gets more and more demanding. His fingers caressed your inner thighs until you were squirming against him, his kisses turned into playful bites making you whine and whimper. 
“You never behave.” You mumbled teasingly, closing your eyes and letting him caress and touch you however he wanted. 
“How can I?” He whispered against your neck, “You’re too beautiful to resist.” 
You let out a soft moan when his finger carefully slid inside you. You whispered, breathlessly, “Remember we flooded the bathroom the last time?” 
Lando groaned, pulling his hand away. “Fine, fine. I’ll behave.” He let out a sigh as though you’d asked him to give up breathing. 
You chuckled at his dramatics. 
The two of you ended up staying, soaking until the water got cold. Then went about your respective night time routines before finally getting in bed. Right as you lifted the covers up to get in, Lando grabbed you by the arm and pulled you into him. 
“Ah! Don’t even think about it. We both know you’re gonna start snoring the moment your head hits those pillows.” He pushed you down on top of the covers and tickled you until you were breathless, your satin robe coming undone in the process and exposing your naked body underneath. “Plus, I promised you something before your belly began braying, didn’t I?” 
You shoved him playfully, arguing, “It didn’t bray!” 
Lando pinned your wrists above your head and leaned in for a quick kiss. “Pretty sure the guards will ask me if we brought in a pet donkey tomorrow morning.” 
“Lando!” You laughed, trying to get out of his grasp but he was stronger than he looked. 
He ended up shutting you up with a kiss, his bare chest pressing down against yours. His skin was damp, the chains around his neck were cold, he smelled incredible. He was all you wanted. So you wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him closer. 
He moaned into the kiss when you arched your back, pressing up against him. When he pulled away to look down at you, his stare was fiery, his pretty eyes filled with lust. 
“I love you, you know that right?” He asked. You noticed he often did. 
You nodded quickly. “I know.” You smiled up at him, “And I love you.” 
He smiled before leaning in for a quick kiss before his mouth slowly moved down your body. Kissing along your neck, biting your breasts, kissing down your stomach, your hips, your thighs. 
You lifted your upper body up onto your elbows and met his intense stare. His pretty eyes really were your weakness. Your safe place. Your comfort. Perhaps because when you woke up after that traumatic night years ago, those eyes were the first thing you saw. They’d been your favourite thing since. 
Lando held your stare as he spread your legs further apart, settling in between them. 
He pressed his lips to your inner thigh, his mouth getting closer and closer to your core, you tipped your head back, sighing quietly as you felt his breath against you. You couldn’t help but slide your fingers into his soft, slightly damp hair.
“You’re all mine.” He whispered, his tongue slowly circled your throbbing clit, parting your wet folds with ease. His shoulders parted your legs further apart as he leaned closer. He slowly brought a finger up to your clit, sliding it agonisingly slowly down your slit, parting your wet folds again. 
You trembled under his touch. “All yours,” You sighed in bliss as he slid a finger inside you, stroking your walls gently while he placed his mouth back on your clit.
“Does my face feel too rough now, baby?” He asked. And chuckled proudly when you were only able to moan in response. 
“No…” You gasped, breathless and wanting more even as he teased your clit and finger-fucked you gently. That damn stubble of his rubbed against your poor inner thighs over and over again but you moaned in pleasure despite it all. 
You squirmed and moaned and gasped under his perfect touch. He knew you and your body too well by now, and soon, you were coming undone all over his tongue, your walls clenching violently around his finger. Your fingers scratched his scalp as you tugged harder on his hair as you came.
You were still catching your breath as Lando left small kisses up your body before he hovered above you again, staring deep into your eyes. 
“Please…” You begged, wrapping your legs around his waist again. “I need you in me.” 
Lando gave you a cocky smile before kissing you once again, the taste of you on his tongue still. You didn’t mind the roughness of his stubble this time, but you growled into the kiss because you were impatient and all he did was kiss you over and over again. 
“Impatient, are we?” Lando chuckled at your little growl, not breaking the kiss as he slowly slipped inside of you, groaning into the kiss as he went.
You gasped as he filled you up, all of him stretching you out and fitting nicely inside you. You couldn’t help but moan into his mouth as he moved his hips the slightest bit, making you whine at the feeling of his cock slowly moving in and out of you. 
“Fuck baby, you feel so good…” He groaned, his grip on your body tightens, possibly leaving bruises on your hips and thighs but you didn’t care. 
You would never get bored of this you realised. Of him, his touch, his warmth, his kisses… you were so glad he was yours. 
You could feel your walls clenching around him as he sped up and pounded into you, to a point where the only thing you could focus on was the feeling of him moving against your body. Nothing else in the world mattered. Your long day at work was forgotten, nothing else existed. Just you and him. 
“So fucking good…” He whispered, pounding into you relentlessly, as he bent down to bite your lower lip. 
You moaned at how perfect his lean and muscular body felt against yours. Your legs trembled as you wrapped them tighter around his waist. His thrusts were relentless and unbearably good. You closed your eyes as you felt the pressure around your lower body; tight and hot.
Lando smirked, looking down to where his cock disappeared into you each time he thrust in. “Look at you, baby,” He whispered, “It’s like you were made just for me.” The possessiveness in his voice only made you clench around him again. 
You were unable to say anything because of how good he felt sliding in and out of you. The familiar pressure formed at your core and you whined again when his fingers found your clit while he pounded into you mercilessly.
“Come for me…” he whispered and that was all you needed to hear before you came undone all around him again. Whimpering and back arching off the bed as you came hard around his cock.
He kept pounding into you as your orgasm washed over you, your walls squeezing him violently. Your body trembling under his intense gaze. He watched you in awe, lips parted, breaths in rags, heart racing. 
He almost came as well. But then he slowed down, pulled out and stopped for a moment. He caught his breath, and held back from coming no matter how much he wanted to. He needed to make you come again, he needed to hear you moan for him again. 
“Turn around for me, baby,” He spoke, caressing your thigh as you struggled to sit up. “Come on,” He urged, “Face down, ass up. Come on, baby.” 
You did as he asked, your hips and ass up while your face was pressed against the bed. You were still catching your breath when his hand reached around and touched you in between your legs, his fingers rubbed around your clit and made you tremble and moan given how sensitive you were. 
His body bent over yours, his warm, damp chest pressing against your back as he kissed your shoulder and the back of your neck until his mouth reached your ear, “I know you’re tired, my love,” He whispered, kissing the side of your face while you caught your breath, “But I need you to come for me again. Can you do that for me, baby?” 
You nodded slowly. Lando hummed in satisfaction as he kissed along your shoulder before gripping each side of your hips, and pushing into you from behind. 
Your body was sensitive from earlier, so you whined and whimpered as he filled you up again. Your fingers gripped the covers beneath you tightly, and your mind was foggy, everything was floaty as he pounded into you. 
You reached your high quicker this time, moaning his name and coming undone just a couple of minutes later. 
You felt his thrusts becoming irregular, faster, his cock throb against your walls violently. He groaned and growled as he came, his body wrapping around you from behind. You both fell on your sides, catching your breaths and calming your hearts down. 
“You okay, pretty girl?” He asked, spooning you from behind. 
You could only nod as he kissed you on the back of your neck. 
“You did so good for me, baby.” He murmured, “Now let’s get in bed, yeah?” 
You were pretty much limp after that. So Lando cleaned you up, then himself and then got the bed ready while you just laid there with a smile on your face watching him. He ended up having to tuck you in as well, since you refused to move. 
Lando playfully groaned, “I spoil you too much.” He said, getting on his side of the bed before pulling you close to cuddle under the covers. “People warned me against spoiling my wife too much.” 
You were already half asleep at this point. Damn it, he was right about you falling asleep the moment your head hits the pillows. But still you murmured, more like slurred, “Didn’t they also tell you to shave else your wife will have burns on her inner thighs?” 
Lando chuckled, rubbing his cheek against yours purposely again, “Okay fine, I’ll shave tomorrow. Happy?” 
“Hmm,” You mumbled, already drifting off to sleep. Safe in his arms as you’ll always be. “You better,” Lando chuckled at how you desperately tried to stay awake. “Otherwise I’m gonna run away.” 
With that you were gone. Your breathing changed so Lando knew you were surely asleep. Soon you’ll start snoring softly. He leaned down and kissed your forehead. 
“Silly baby,” He whispered as he adjusted the covers so you were properly warm. “You can’t run away from me,” He whispered against your forehead as he cuddled you, wrapping his arms tighter around you. “There’s a tracking implant in your arm.” 
Then he let out a soft chuckle. “Of course, you don’t know that, do you?” He cooed, “Hmm, baby?” He kissed your forehead again. “There’s so much you don’t know.” He caressed your cheek as you began snoring softly just as he expected. 
He had always found it adorable. He continued whispering to you, knowing you couldn’t hear him. “There’s so much I have to keep from you. I hate lying to you, but it’s for your own good, baby.” 
He kept caressing your face as he spoke to himself, “Like how you mistook me for your saviour that night.” He sighed then admitted, “I was the one who attacked your father’s house. I was the rival. Then I had my men search the house after everyone was dead, and they found you unconscious and brought you to me.” He let out another sigh, pulling you closer. “You were so beautiful, baby. Even with dried up tears on your face. You were the prettiest thing I’d ever seen. And I vowed to never make you cry after that night. It was the last time, I promise.” 
He paused. Then continued, “Your dad was such a pain in my ass, baby. I’m sorry I killed him. I’m sorry I killed all of them. I’m sorry I never told you the truth. How could I? You would hate me forever.” He placed a kiss on your nose, “But look,” He murmured, “All that shit brought you to me. And aren’t we happy together?” 
He let out another chuckle and said, “Wanna know another secret, pretty girl? I’m your anonymous collector. I have a warehouse full of the pieces you exhibit.” He confessed in the darkness and the silence. “I mean, what kind of a husband would I be if I don’t support my wife’s career, huh? Everything I do is to make you happy.” He leaned in to kiss your forehead again. “I love you so much, baby. It drives me insane.” Then he chuckled and added as an inside joke to himself, “Or maybe it did drive me insane already.”
2K notes · View notes
bunnylovesani · 4 months
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Cherry Popping
Summary: When you’re left alone with your father’s good friend James Kelly, you try to seduce him- but you soon realise you’ve bitten off more than you can chew.
Content warnings: Mild dubcon, loss of virginity, rough p in v sex, fingering, choking, degradation, humiliation, creampie
WC: 2.8k
You’d gotten used to James hanging around- you’d spent many of your childhood summers peering into the garage where he worked with your father. A long time had passed since he was just a mechanic’s apprentice but he maintained a close friendship with your family, often coming by on weekends for a cold beer and catch up. Everything had remained the same for years- everything apart from you.
As you grew older, the way you looked at him changed. Thanks to a fresh influx of hormones, you were filled with a newfound curiosity for him- his familiarity was washed away and replaced with anxious desire. Now prior to his arrival, you’d spritz yourself with perfume and change into something short and pink. Your dad, being endearingly clueless as usual, would comment on how nice the floral fragrance that his princess was wearing was and you’d squeak out “Thanks daddy! Just tryin’ out somethin’ new, ya know?”
As was your routine, you’d skip along happily to the garage whenever you heard the familiar hum of his engine and you’d practise working up the nerve to ask him if he wanted something to drink. He’d flash you a bright smile that made you weak in the knees and usually declined your offer, insisting he could get it himself. You always felt a little saddened, sorely craving the opportunity to show him care and attention with some good old-fashioned hospitality.
On one particular weekend, you’d spent the day attending to your dad- who had elected to stay home from work after battling a nasty virus for the entirety of the previous night. James- ever gracious- came over bearing medicine and various snacks as soon as he found out, stepping into the lounge where your dad lay to crack some distasteful joke and bring him a canister of tea before leaving him to nap.
“I could’ve done that.” You murmured once he stepped out and closed the door behind him.
“No need, we wouldn’t want you catching whatever your old man’s got.” He smiles earnestly and you feel your breath catch in your throat as your mind goes blank, an increasingly awkward silence lingering between you.
“So how is everything, kid? School going well and all that?” He diffuses the tension.
“I’m not in school anymore James.” You giggle at how misinformed he is.
“Ah my bad, I guess I don’t know you as well as I’d like.” He looks away, rubbing the back of his head and you can’t help but admire his gorgeous side profile, choppy dark hair framing his sculpted face.
“And how well would you like to know me?” You mumble, barely above a whisper.
“I’m sorry?” He raises his eyebrows and cocks his head at you, assuming he misheard you.
“Nothing- you know, the lightbulb in the bathroom needs changing and I just can’t reach it! Could you help me?” You ask in your sweetest voice, batting your eyelashes.
“Of course, in here?” He points to the bathroom down the hallway, stepping in.
“Yep, the ceiling is too tall and I can’t find anything to step on.” You hold the bulb in your hand and huff defeatedly.
“I’ll go grab a chair-“
“Or you could just give me a leg up.” You interrupt, wanting desperately to feel his calloused hands wrapped securely around you.
“Uh-I mean, sure.” He stutters, realising he doesn’t have much of a choice when your hands make their way to his broad shoulders.
You jump up as his firm grip tightens over your barely clothed thighs and hips, holding you up with bated breath. You pretend to fiddle with the screw of the bulb, prolonging the moment as you memorise every detail of his touch on your skin.
“You got it?” He asks uncomfortably, facing the opposite direction from you.
“Yeah, almost! It’s just so - ugh- damn slippery!” You pretend, making sure to stretch out so that your already short skirt is further raised- hem brushing against his knuckles. “Just can’t seem to get it in…” You mumble and he looks up at you, shooting you an unconvinced glare.
“If you wanted me to touch you, you could’ve just said.” He sighs, unamused with your little act.
“I-I don’t know what you mean James, I’m just struggling with the bulb.” You chuckle incredulously before he drops you a little, forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist with a gasp. “James! I-“
“You’ve done enough talking.” He mutters and lowers you against the sink, your legs still wrapped around his torso as he lifts up your skirt, taking a peek at your lace panties. You’re rendered speechless- you don’t know what you were expecting when you were being flirty but it wasn’t this.
“You’re over 18, right?” He stops for a moment, both hands squishing the soft flesh of your thighs.
“Yes, way over.” You huff- how did he still think you were a kid?
“Enough with the attitude.” He grabs you by the cheeks with one hand and stares right through you with steely blue eyes. “You think you’re all grown up now? Ready to be treated like a real woman?” He asks you with such intensity it feels like a life or death matter.
“I am.” You mumble and bite your lip nervously. You had no idea what he had in mind for you but you knew you wanted it all, whatever it was.
“You’re certainly dressed like it.” He inspects your low-cut top and short skirt, now hitched around your hips with your thong on display for him. “You’re asking for it walking around like this. And daddy just lets you? If you were my daughter, you’d never be allowed to parade around my friends dressed like a slut. Perverts would be thinking all sorts of things.” His eyes roam your body, fingers lifting your top and caressing the bare skin underneath.
“You mean perverts like you?” You blink at him innocently.
“Exactly.” A grin spreads across his face as he grabs you by the throat and brings you closer to him, his warm breath on your neck. “I want to ruin you.” He drawled in his husky, deep voice and you felt the damp spot in your panties spreading.
You need him to know how much you want him so you lean in to meet his lips in a soft, touching embrace. You feel his smirk disperse into the kiss and he pulls away, laughing.
“What’s funny?” You curve your eyebrows into an adorable swoop.
“You kiss like a…like a-“
“A little girl?” You cross your arms. “How would you know how a little girl kisses?”
“Don’t be an idiot, I didn’t mean it like that. You’re just so….innocent. You kiss like you’ve never been hurt before. Like you’ve already given yourself to me.” He brushes past your cheeks with his knuckles.
“That’s because I have.” You declare as you peel off your top, revealing your bare chest to him in the process since you’d decided to forego a bra. He stares at your perky breasts in awe, cupping one softly and brushing over your nipple with his thumb. His cock twitches at the sight of you exposed all for him, legs spread and tits out while your father was asleep down the hall.
“How pretty…when did these grow?” He notes amusedly as his touch becomes harsher, squeezing them with some force. A shudder spreads over your body as your legs instinctively part, needing to feel him inside you.
“Want me to pop your cherry, baby?” He offers and you wince at his lusty tone. Before you even get the chance to nod in confirmation, he’s pulling your panties down, tossing them behind him.
“You know how this is done, yeah?” He asks with half his attention, focus stolen by the sight of your glisteningly wet pussy.
“Uhuh, I do. I’ve seen it.” You choke out anxiously.
“Of course you do, such a smart girl. Have you been watching naughty videos?” He spreads your thighs with an iron grip, gazing directly into the creaminess forming between your legs.
“Only once or twice.” You insist, worried you were going to get in trouble.
“It’s okay darlin’, perfectly natural to be curious about these things.” He rubs his thumb across your clit and you flinch a little at the unfamiliar sensation. “I bet you’ve been struggling with some new feelings, haven’t you?”
You furrow your eyebrows and hang your head in shame. “I get this fuzzy feeling right there where you’re touching me- and it doesn’t go away for so long! Feels like butterflies and I don’t know how to get rid of them.”
“Poor baby, that sounds so tough. You just need someone to help you out, don’t you? Well that’s what daddy’s friends are for, sweetheart.” He coos affectionately and you lean into his touch, feeling so protected.
“Please help me.” You whine, slender fingers fidgeting with the zip of his jeans.
“Such a needy little thing.” He mutters, pushing your hands away to undo the trousers himself, sliding them off until he’s in nothing but his black boxers. Your face scrunches up in disbelief as your fingertips trail the outline of his cock, girthy and hard.
“Don’t give me that look. I’ll be so gentle, I promise.” He redirects your attention to his voice, cupping your face and kissing you sweetly.
“You don’t have to be that gentle.” You murmur into the kiss and he chuckles breathily, hand trailing back down between your thighs to slip a finger inside you.
You gasp at the unexpected intrusion and grab onto his firm shoulder.
“Shh, it’s alright. Just need to loosen you up a lil’ bit.” He hushes you as he adds another one, strong fingers curling up into your squishy flesh. A soft moan escapes your plump lips and a fire rages in your chest when you look down at the sight of his veiny forearm situated between your spread legs, wetness pouring down his large hand.
“Please…I need it.” You whine into his mouth as he sloppily kisses you.
“Be patient, baby. I’m gonna rip you apart if you’re not ready. This tight little pussy couldn’t take it.” He consoles you, pressing his fingers deeper and deeper inside you.
“You said you wanted to ruin me, didn’t you?” You groan, the feeling of his fingers suddenly woefully inadequate. He sighs and slips them out, resting his palm on the cold basin by your thigh.
“Fine, but I don’t want to hear any crying.” He warns you with a raised eyebrow before slipping down his boxers and releasing his throbbing cock. You’d never seen one before but your mouth watered and your eyes darkened with lust at the sight.
“Be a good girl and spread those legs for me.” Ever obedient, you open them wide as he shuffles in between you, gliding his ridged tip smoothly over your slit- making you shudder every time the soft skin brushed past your swollen clit.
He lazily pushed the tip in, not bothering to warn you beforehand and you whimpered sharply at the painful stretch. He disregards your discomfort and pushes all the way in, bottoming out until his abdomen grazed yours.
Your lips part, threatening to release another cry but he clamps his hand tightly over your mouth before it can spill out.
“Ah, ah. What did I say?” He tuts softly and stares blankly at your crinkled expression. “You can take it. You’re a big girl, remember?” He begins to rock into you, stretching you out so much you have to grip the edge of the countertop, sharp edge cutting into your palms. The hand that isn’t muffling your moans is at the back of your neck, a firm grasp holding you in place on either end. In this position, he has complete control over your body. You are nothing but a fucktoy to be used for his amusement- and he doesn’t even look that amused.
Your breathy, stifled gasps continue with every thrust as you struggle to adjust to the intensity of his thrusts.
“What’s the matter, sweetie? Does it hurt?” He feigns concern but you don’t pick up on his insincerity.
“Y-yes!” You choke back tears, body tensed up as his cock bullied your little cunt relentlessly.
“Good.”
He snakes his hand around your throat and squeezes until you feel your heartbeat pulsating in your neck.
“All I had to do was be a little nice and you let me stick my cock in you.” He leers mockingly. “And with daddy next door, no less. How desperate are you? Are you sure you’re even a virgin?” He swipes a towel off the rack beside him and places it between where your bodies meet. You stare at him in confusion and he smirks.
“This is so he doesn’t hear when I start pounding into you.”
He grabs the panties he tossed aside earlier and gestures for you to open your mouth.
“And this is so no one can hear you scream, baby.” He stuffs the bundle of fabric into your mouth and your eyes widen as he snaps his hips forward, slamming into you roughly. He hooks his hands under your armpits and grips you by the shoulders as he mercilessly pounds into you, the smacks of flesh all but silenced by the towel- apart from the wet sloshing that echoed off the bathroom tiles.
“Do you actually like this? Oh baby, what a sick freak. You really are perfect for me.” He moans at the sight of your eyes rolling to the back of your head and your panting growing erratic.
“Can I trust you to be quiet?” He asks and you nod vigorously, wanting so badly to gain his approval. “Yeah? I wanna hear those pretty little moans. But you have to be so quiet baby. Think you can do that f’me?” He whispers into your ear and plants a couple of wet kisses on the side of your face. A string of drool follows as he carefully removes the panties from your mouth, wiping any remnant of spit off your bottom lip with his thumb.
“There we go…” He mutters breathily, the pleasure catching up to him as his thrusts grew sloppier. This is a memory he would cherish forever: the sound of wet squelching as he fucked you into the sink.
He pulled all the way out before harshly burying himself back inside you with a smack of his hips, letting you feel every part of him as if it were your privilege and not his.
You loved the feeling of being caged under him, not able to escape even if you wanted to. The pain subsided and the fuzzy feeling returned, prompted by the way the base of his cock brushed against your clit.
“Aah- oh! Ugh, daddy.” You slurred quietly.
“Silly baby.” He teased. “I’m not your daddy.”
You babbled disjointedly as his hard thrusts sped up, your inner thighs dripping with arousal and sweat.
“Have I fucked you dumb already? Baby doesn’t even know who her daddy is anymore.” He mutters absent-mindedly, staring at the creaminess coating his dick. “I’m doing you a favour, you know? No one wants to fuck a virgin. Too much hassle. So you’re welcome.” He struggles to peel his eyes away from the sight of his painfully hard cock disappearing into your swollen pussy. “Say thank you.” He slams into you especially roughly after you don’t respond.
“Fuck! Th-thank you. Thank you James, thank you so much!” You whine, on the verge of fainting.
“Good girl. Now I’m going to pump you full of my cum- and you’re going to like it.” He sneers and you’re too fucked out to form a response, allowing him to use you in any way he desired instead.
With one final impact, he pounds into your cunt and spills his seed into you, bowing his head to bite you on the shoulder in an attempt to stifle his moans. You can’t do anything but sit there, aching and used up.
He pulls out as his heavy breaths regulate and he sits on the edge of the bathtub, admiring the way his cum leaked out of your abused hole.
“Next time, I’ll teach you how to suck my cock.” He remarks casually and you squeeze your thighs together at the thought of there being a next time.
“Open.” He slaps the side of your leg lightly. “I don’t want to see you wearing panties anymore when I’m around, okay?”
You bite your lip and nod obediently.
“Your dad was right, you really are such a good girl.”
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Taglist:
@crazy4hotmen @erinkeifer @mortalheartache @arzua10 @mugwump327 @offthethirlwall @bby-imasociopath @slvttedoutmars @emmalandry
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arieslost · 2 months
Text
home to you | op81
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oscar piastri x fem!reader
summary: oscar does what he should’ve done a long time ago.
word count: 2,978
warnings: healing sunburn right at the beginning, a touch of angst
masterlist — join my tag list here!
this is a PART TWO! read part one here :)
© arieslost 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.
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Your sunburn is peeling.
Oscar’s been watching you absentmindedly pick at it for the last ten minutes as you recount your day to him. He’s paying attention to what you’re saying, of course, but now he’s worried that you might accidentally hurt yourself.
“Stop doing that,” he says when you pause to catch your breath, reaching for his phone as if he could put his hand through and stop you himself.
“What?” You frown, and then look at your shoulder. “Oh, right. It’s weirdly satisfying though.”
“This is why you can’t go to the beach by yourself.” Oscar sighs. “You never put on enough sunscreen.”
“I know,” you reply quietly.
As much as both of you have tried, neither of you can help the awkward undertones that seep into every silence you share now. Oscar knows you love him, and you know that he doesn’t feel the same way.
You think he doesn’t feel the same way.
When he saw that look on your face that morning in the kitchen, it reminded him of the way he stared at you on prom night. Oscar didn’t get asked to the senior prom, but you did, and you had turned the offer down. Oscar asked you why, and you told him that you only wanted to go with him, otherwise you weren’t going. You’d dragged him back and forth from your table to the dance floor all night long, and it all would’ve faded into the mush of fleeting high school memories if your favorite song hadn’t come on. Oscar remembers every detail of how your eyes lit up, how you cried, “I love this song!” even though he knew you did, and how you’d grabbed his hands and started dancing with a refreshed energy. He felt like time had stopped and his world revolved around you, and it felt right.
So yeah, he knew the moment you gave him that look that not only did he still love you, but you finally, finally felt the same way. And, for the second time, he’d epically fucked it up.
He often wishes that he could go back and confess to you like he wanted to that night. You’d stayed over because you were too tired to drive home. You were both single. It was the perfect time. But now it’s four years later and he’s sitting in the hotel bathroom on the other side of the world, his girlfriend asleep in the hotel bed, and you on the other end of his phone screen picking at your sunburn that he could’ve prevented had he spent more time with you on vacation.
“You doing okay, Osc?” You ask, pulling on a hoodie of his that you stole from him before he left for his very first F1 race. “Aside from the races, I mean. I know you’re doing great with those.”
“Yeah, I’m alright.” The words come out with practiced ease. “I’d rather hear about how you’re doing though.” I miss you like you wouldn’t believe.
“I think I’ve told you everything like five times now,” you giggle. “I could tell you about the guy that came up to me in the grocery store this afternoon and took a painstakingly long time to ask for my number, but that’s not a long story.”
Oscar’s heart stops. “What?” He replies, teeth gritted, before he clears his throat and lightens his tone. “I mean, what?”
“Yeah, it was kind of strange. He started the conversation by asking me how you were doing, obviously, because you’re so cool and famous-” Oscar flips you off when you roll your eyes, and you laugh. “Anyway, I guess that was his icebreaker, because then he just abruptly segued into grilling me right there in the cereal aisle about my life and how he ‘couldn’t believe he’d never seen me before.’” You recount dramatically. “I’m telling you, Osc, it was nonstop cheesy line after cheesy line. I felt so bad for him I let him have my number.”
“So, he used me as an in and then harassed you until you gave him your number?”
You nod slowly. “Pretty much.”
“You better not actually be considering going out with this guy.” Oscar scoffs.
“Oh, no, I’m not!” You rush to clarify, and he can see a faint blush rising on your cheeks. “I mean, it’s not like I’m waiting for anyone-anything. He was just weird. I only gave him my number so he’d leave me alone… I blocked him when he texted me.”
“You’re horrible,” he starts laughing now, relieved that this guy never even stood a chance. “I love it.”
“You’re supposed to be encouraging me to get out there and find a boyfriend, loser. Brush up on the best friend manual.” You complain, pulling the hood over your head and hiding your face from him so he can’t see how much it hurts to think about finding someone that isn’t him.
He doesn’t notice anyway; he’s distracted by the sound of the covers moving and his girlfriend yawning.
You hear it too, and glance up at the camera. “You have to go?”
His heart breaks at how sad you look. “Yeah, sounds like she’s actually waking up this time. Sorry, honey.”
You shrug, and he knows you’re trying to appear unbothered. “It’s okay. We got, what, an hour and a half? That’s a whole extra 45 minutes or so.”
“You’re allowed to tell me how you really feel, y’know.”
“Damn it, Oscar. You just see right through me. I don’t know why I even bother.” You sigh, covering your face with your hands.
“I don’t know why, either,” he attempts to joke. “Look, I-”
“Oscar? Where are you?” His girlfriend calls, and you stiffen up at the sound of her voice.
“Be there in a minute!” He responds, turning his attention back to you. “I’ll call you again as soon as possible, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Bye, honey.”
“Bye, Osc.”
You hang up first.
“I love you,” he whispers to his blank phone screen, and gets up to start his day.
You say it back to your own blank screen and go to sleep.
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Oscar comes to the steadfast conclusion that he wants you and only you at his side at his home race, and not as a friend.
Breaking up with his girlfriend still looms over him. He lies awake for way too long at night trying to figure out the nicest way to do it, but his thoughts always end up taking a detour to you and how he wishes it was you sleeping next to him instead.
Despite the struggle going on in his mind, he goes through the motions of PDA with her for all the cameras and other drivers in the paddock to see. Lando is the only one who realizes what his issue is.
“Mate, you have to figure this out.” The older driver said out of the blue as they were lounging in McLaren hospitality after qualifying.
“Huh?” Oscar frowned at him, tearing his eyes away from his texts with you. “I know I fucked up that quali, but it’s not like I can’t improve.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about, you muppet.” Lando rolled his eyes, and said your name like it’s obvious. “You just have to break up with the girl you’re with now so you can have the girl you really want.”
“You say that like it’s so simple.” Oscar mumbled, looking at the text from you that had just come in.
Just focus on the race, Osc. Quali’s behind you, it doesn’t matter anymore. I’ll be cheering you on, what could possibly go wrong??
“It is, if you think about it. Besides, you’ve been acting so weird lately she might already think something’s up.”
“Gee, thanks. That makes me feel a lot better.” Oscar groaned, sinking lower into his chair.
“Always here for you, mate.”
“I was being sarcastic.”
“I don’t care.”
That enlightening conversation gets Oscar to finally work up the courage to tell his girlfriend those dreaded words following the race– “We need to talk.”
He waits until they’re in the hotel room after dinner to say it so there’s no audience, primarily because he knows that she’s prone to throwing fits when things don’t go her way. The memory of her losing her mind when he took you to breakfast during vacation comes screaming back to him at the speed of light.
She doesn’t say anything at first; instead, she takes her time removing her shoes and taking the pins out of her hair. Oscar can’t stand the silence, so he starts speaking again.
“It’s about-”
“I think I know what this is about.” She interrupts him.
“You do?”
“I’d have to be stupid not to know, Oscar. You’ve been off for the past few days, it’s only with me, and every time I wake up you’re hiding in the bathroom on the phone.” She holds up a hand when he opens his mouth. “I know it’s her, and I’ve known since that vacation. You don’t have to tell me.”
“You’re… you’re not gonna yell?” He can’t hide the surprise in his voice.
“It won’t get me anywhere, will it?”
“It never did.”
She smiles matter-of-factly. “I guess I have to work on that.”
She packs her things without argument. Oscar offers to buy her a plane ticket somewhere, but she waves him off and thanks him anyway before walking out the door.
The Australian Grand Prix is in two weeks. Oscar doesn’t think before he calls you.
“I’m coming home. I need to see you.”
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Your heart has been in your throat ever since Oscar called you this morning. He was so hasty that he didn’t even tell you when he was coming, so every little movement you see outside your window has you running to see if it’s him or not.
He doesn’t show up until almost 9:30 at night. You can hear the engine of his car as he flies through your neighborhood with practiced ease and nearly drifts into your driveway. Your stomach is jumping with nerves and excitement; you didn’t think you’d see him for another two weeks, and despite the awkwardness that your feelings have brought to your friendship, you want nothing more than to hug your best friend.
He starts impatiently knocking on the door as you nearly trip down the stairwell in your rush to let him in.
“Hold on!” You shout, fingers shaking as you unlock the door and wrench it open. “Are you trying to break my door?”
“Jokes later, let me hold you,” he says, reaching for you and meeting you in the middle of the doorway as he pulls you into his chest for a tight embrace.
You melt into him immediately, your arms wrapped around his neck and your nose pressed to the warm skin that peeks out of his hoodie. “I can’t believe you’re here,” you mumble, squeezing him.
He shivers, kissing the top of your head. “I’m here, baby.”
I’m sorry, baby. You think about that so much that it shouldn’t hurt anymore. It sobers your mood a little.
“Why, though?” You ask, pulling away a little to look at him. “Don’t you have things to be doing?”
“I may have forced them to clear my schedule by coming home without telling anyone.”
“Oscar!” You exclaim. “Why? You could get in trouble!”
“Can we talk inside?”
“Yeah, of course. C’mon.” You take his hand and lead him into your house.
He takes off his shoes, leaves his suitcase in the hall, and goes to your living room on autopilot, where he flops down on the couch and lets out a long breath. You sit next to him, knees bumping together as you look at him with a reasonable amount of concern. “You’re acting weird. What’s wrong with you?”
“I broke up with her.” He says, rolling his head to the side so he’s looking at you. “So, nothing’s wrong with me.”
“Bullshit, Osc, it seemed to me like you really liked her.”
“You didn’t, though.”
“Who cares what I think?” Your brain fully computes his words. “Wait- actually, no. I’m not even going to act surprised by the fact that you knew that.” You sigh.
“I care what you think. I care about you. A lot.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“I don’t think you do.” He sits up straighter now, turning his whole body to face you. “Like, in a romantic way.”
You blink at him a couple times. “No you don’t.”
“I don’t?” He repeats incredulously.
“You can’t. You don’t.” You say. “You’re lying.”
“I’m lying?” He says through a laugh. “You’ve known me your whole life. When have I ever lied to you?”
You press your lips together. The only time he’s ever lied to you is when he planned your surprise parties. “I’m gonna need you to do a really good job explaining yourself, otherwise I’m kicking you out. You can’t do this to me, Oscar, you know how I feel-”
“Yes, I do, and I’d love to explain if you’d stop spiraling for a second.” He interrupts, taking your hands to ground you.
You’re once again having the dilemma of wanting to push him away and pull him closer simultaneously. The pressure of his hands holding yours succeeds in calming you, so you allow it.
“The whole reason I knew how you felt in the first place is because of the way you looked at me in the kitchen. You didn’t notice, but I looked at you the exact same way at the prom.” He says, gauging your reaction by how your face contorts slightly as you try to remember the prom at all, aside from the fleeting memory of forcing him to slow dance with you. “That feeling like time stops? Like-”
“Like I got hit by a truck,” you recall, looking down as he runs his thumbs over your knuckles.
“Right.” He nods. “Look, the bottom line here is that I screwed up by not telling you then, and if I had, we would’ve been dating for years at this point and this conversation wouldn’t even be happening.”
You feel like you look like a fish out of water with how your jaw is opening and closing, searching for something to say in response. “Osc-”
“If this makes you change your mind, I get it.” He continues. “But the whole reason I came here is to tell you that I love you. I’m in love with you and I have been since we were 18.”
You go to muster up something to say in response when he says one more thing. “Oh, and I’m tired of only being able to see you through the phone. That’s the other reason.”
You can’t help it– that, paired with his polite cat smile, his flushed cheeks, and his confession has you dissolving into giggles. That quickly morphs into laughter that sends you leaning so far forward your head is practically in Oscar’s lap, but he doesn’t seem to mind because he’s laughing too.
“I hate you so much,” you gasp out, pushing yourself back up so you can look at him when you tell him the complete and total truth. “I’ve been in love with you since we were 14.”
“Shit, that means I have eight years to make up for, not four.”
“Sucks to suck.” You say, easily falling back into your age-old banter.
“You sound like Lando,” he says, wrinkling his nose. “And I was gonna ask if I could kiss you.”
“Ah, shoot. I ruined it.”
“Hmm, no. I’m gonna ask you anyway.” He shifts closer to you, brushing your hair out of your face with both hands. “Can I kiss you? Please?”
You start nodding before he even finishes asking, maybe too enthusiastically, but it’s Oscar. He knows you. He wants you. You don’t need to be embarrassed.
The press of his lips against yours is soft, gentle. You always thought that if you ever kissed Oscar it might be too weird, but the only thing you feel now is right.
It feels right to thread your fingers into his hair. It feels right to let him tug you closer, closer, closer, until you have no choice but to straddle him so you can be as close as he wants you. It feels right when his hands slip under your shirt and lightly run over the skin of your back, when his tongue meets yours, when you give his hair an experimental tug and he moans into your mouth.
The only thing wrong about it is that you have no choice but to break the kiss in order to breathe, but even then you don’t move far from each other, breaths mixing in the minimal space between you both.
“We could have been doing that for a long time,” Oscar sighs, throwing his head back against the couch.
“We have all the time in the world now that we stopped being idiots and confessed.” You point out.
“D’you think you can come to the race in a couple weeks? We can take it slow with this, no one needs to know… I just want you to be there.” He asks.
“Of course, Osc, are you kidding?” You run your hands over his shoulders and down to where his hands rest on your hips. “Though, if you win, I can’t promise no PDA or anything.”
“I’d expect nothing less from my girlfriend.” You can feel him tense up a little, like he’s expecting you to react negatively, but he relaxes immediately when your smile lights up your whole face and you kiss him again.
“I love you,” he whispers against your lips.
“I love you,” you whisper back.
No one else needs to hear it just yet. You only need to tell each other.
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note: i sincerely hope this made up for any tears i may have caused with the angst in the first part. this is the first time i’ve ever been inspired to write a part 2, and i think it’s because i desperately needed it to end happily. thank you so much for all the love on falling for you; i never expected it to get as much attention as it did!
requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!
reblogs are greatly appreciated <33
dividers by @/saradika !
tags (i’m sorry if i couldn’t tag you!): @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @cixrosie @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @imheretoread @mellowarcadefun @yourbane @monsieurbacteria6 @c-losur3 @papayatori @ssprayberrythings @namgification @maih23 @evlkking @witchycarmen @ilovethispookie @maxverstappenfan79 @sya-skies @niallerswolf @fangirl-dot-com @hood-jabi @vellicora @k-pevensie28 @cami26cami @arian-directioner @vildetry06 @hauntedphotographybookstaco @bigheartsthings @northpizzasposts @notturlover @riv3rbank @gesfjjsl @oliveisunstable @lily1sposts @sadbut-true0 @lilcowboy0 @alltoowelltaylor @kimis-gloves @superheroreader @alexmarie29 @anedpev @lalalaphie @waitingforsmartpeople @arrowenchantress @zillygoose @its-cat-eyes @gxllumsriddles @fionaschicken @mrsgeorgerussell63 @bre013 @lizzypiastri @blldsnjs @samantha-chicago @homosexualjohnwayne @opheliabluewolff @catbat011 @drivelikeiido @what-is-happening-helpp @decafmickey @tania2748 @steviesscoops @annahowardsworld
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messrmoonyy · 19 days
Text
- The Forbidden Fruit
Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader
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Request- I NEED ARTHUR TO STEAL DUTCHS GIRL AND SHOW HER A REAL MANS LOVING. FILTHY PASSIONATE LOVING. WORK YOUR MAGIC
A/N- I got incredibly carried away with this. Is basically prawn with no plot honestly. And far softer smut than I think you intended it to be but. Here we are. Enjoy.
Warnings- 18+ | implied toxic relationship ( reader is in love with Dutch van der Linde what can you expect here ), smut: affair, Arthur being desperate to please!!!, fingering, oral ( reader receiving ) , unprotected p in v and he accidentally finishes inside oops, like the tiniest amount of cockwarming ( WC-8.9k )
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Arthur didn’t involve himself in Dutch’s relationships. He stayed polite to whatever young woman he had hanging off his arm at the time, but that was about it. He’d seen too many girls come and go- usually in floods of tears at being dismissed by the man that had seduced and charmed them into loving him. Just working his way through shiny new plaything to plaything, hiding his unending sorrow for Annabelle under the skirt of some new girl. 
Unfortunately you were no different. 
In your defence, he supposed, you had lasted far longer than the rest. The only real exception to that being the famed Annabelle herself. But as was almost inevitable, your time in the honeymoon phase was slowly crumbling down around you. 
Arthur did wonder if it was simply because of the current stress levels in camp. They had all been on the run for longer than he cared to try and count, but after the mess in Blackwater they had reached new heights of being hunted. It had never been this bad. Nothing had ever gone this wrong. Because before everything had gone to complete shit, he’d actually seemed quite taken with you. In truth Arthur actually had begun to consider the idea that Dutch really did love you. Had finally been able to move on from the weight on his heart of his dead lover. 
But no. 
Arthur was observing the same pattern as always, it had just taken far longer with you. And that just seemed to make it all the more cruel. 
He barely even looked at you most days now. Barely uttered a few words in return to any question you asked. 
And the arguing was growing ever more fierce. It was practically everyday. 
Arthur didn’t like it. Didn’t like the way Dutch treated you. Didn’t like the way Dutch was treating anyone lately. But you in particular had never been anything but nice to him, kind. Sweet. Incredibly naive but sweet. To Arthur too. Some of the girls Dutch had strung along had been vile, rude and entitled and stuck up. But you? You were a genuinely nice person it seemed. And maybe that was your greatest flaw, for someone like that did not belong with Dutch Van Der Linde. 
In fact Arthur had come to like you from a distance. The times he had spoken to you you had been interesting, intelligent. Far cleverer than him and he had always liked that in a woman if he was honest. 
But still you clung to Dutch. Though your patience with him of late seemed to finally be wearing thin. 
Dutch had never really been one to be ashamed or afraid of airing his dirty laundry within the gang. Whether that be packing on the PDA in camp in a way that often made Arthur want to vomit up his breakfast, or the even more puke inducing sounds of the two of you making up all night long. So arguing was no exception to that either. 
And today was no different. 
“ you barely even look at me! I’m right here! I always have been, I’ve always been such a good girl haven’t I? I do as you say. And look at how you repay me! “ Arthur sighed as he dropped a stack of bills into the box, successfully recovering yet another of Strauss’ debts for him. You were both screaming at each other again, the tent flaps pulled down as if that would over any form of soundproofing. It was the camp's regular ambience now it seemed. 
He did feel sorry for you, he really did. You’d left everything you had for Dutch. Some beautiful, intelligent, well spoken girl. Heiress to her daddy’s mining fortune up north, used to the finer things but seeking some adventure. And Dutch had offered you both. Drowned you in jewels and gifts- though unlike the ones you had once owned the ones he gave were not his to give- Shown you off like a shiny new toy on his arm. Expressly informed Miss Grimshaw that you were not to be lifting a finger, that you would not have to earn your keep with chores like the others. 
You earned your keep by looking beautiful beside him, by boosting his ego with your constant devotion to him, by letting Dutch use you for his own source of pleasure and by the sounds of things- that Arthur truly had no choice but to overhear- not getting very much back in return. 
“ You know I don’t think I’ve ever met a more selfish woman in my life! “ Arthur sighed and sat down on his cot, debating whether or not to make some attempt to get the sleep he had been planning the entire long journey back to Clemens Point. But his tent was but a stone's throw from Dutch’s. 
“ I have needs too Dutch Van Der Linde!” Everyone else in camp didn’t seem to mind it though, most of them preparing to settle in for the night. Whether that be passing out on their bedrolls or drinking by the fire. But Arthur wasn’t sure he could put up with another moment of the damn yelling. 
“ oh? You have needs? “ Dutch’s voice was condescending. Mocking “ I give you everything! You are acting like a spoiled child”
“ a child? A child!? “ Arthur stood back up again, deciding he’d fare better trying to sleep on the damn ground rather than next to the likes of you and Dutch. So he headed out towards the edge of camp, hiding himself in the woods by the water. He slumped down against a tree with a heavy sigh and wished he’d thought to pick up a bottle of beer on the way. 
But it was no matter. He was far enough away that he couldn’t hear the fighting anymore, but close enough that if he was needed anyone calling his name would be heard. 
He looked out across the water, enjoying his rare moment of peace. It was a clear night and a full moon, the reflection bouncing off the water in the most beautiful way. He pulled out his journal and started to sketch it, wishing he could capture its beauty better. 
‘ Dutch and the girl were arguing again. Got out of earshot for a bit to try catch some sleep. Thought the water and the moon looked mighty pretty ‘ 
He scrawled underneath when he was done, tucking it back into the satchel discarded at his side. Javier's guitar had silenced back in camp now and he figured everyone had gone off to bed. But he was quite content there by the water, so dropped his hat over his face and settled in to try and catch a few hours himself. 
He was just dozing off when he heard the sound of boots marching quickly through the undergrowth, snapping twigs as they went. And then the soft sound of someone mumbling to themselves. He silently hoped whoever it was would keep well away from him. But the boots grew nearer and came to a halt not so far away. The crackle of a match being lit and a heavy sigh. 
“ thinks he can talk to me like that? Bastard. Bastard he is. I’m a lady I deserve better than. Than that “ 
You. 
He cleared his throat lightly to inform you that he was there, but unfortunately still seemed to startle you. 
“ Christ! Gave me a damn heart attack Arthur “ he placed his hat down with his satchel with a sigh and looked up at you. In the light of the moon reflecting off the water he could see your cheeks were tear stained, the glow of the end of your cigarette illuminating your face further and showing your makeup in streaks. 
He couldn’t lie that it made his heart ache for you. He didn’t particularly have any solid feelings for you, but he did feel sorry for you. It was hard not to feel sorry for the woman seduced by Dutch. 
And you truly were a cut above the rest in his opinion. Beautiful as the early morning sun and, when you weren’t screaming at Dutch, as kind and warm as it too. But maybe that was fitting. Because much like the sun you could bask people in warmth, but burn them too. Beautiful and bright but scalding and he found he couldn’t look at you for too long, no matter how many times he wanted too. Simply blinding his eyes with your flaming beauty and having to turn away. 
But maybe he was just getting caught up in his metaphors. 
“ shouldn’t be out this far from camp “ you simply shrugged, taking another drag of your cigarette “ ain’t no one nice lingerin’ in woods at night miss” even if no Lemoyne raiders were sneaking around the trees, there were plenty of species of wildlife that would happily do a number on you. Chew off a leg or bite you with poison fangs. You didn’t know how to take care of yourself. You couldn’t handle a gun, didn’t have a single survival instinct in you. 
Dutch had quite made sure of that, he’d heard you ask once or twice. And had been denied. Charming you with some string of words about how you were far too delicate to be handling a gun. To leave it for the men. 
“ you’re lingering in the woods aren’t you Mr Morgan? “ he chuckled and shrugged. 
“ and I ain’t that nice. Point proven lady “ 
“ not like Dutch would care if someone took me anyway. He’d probably be thankful “ your voice was hoarse from the shouting and he couldn’t tell if you were going to cry again or not. You took a long drag of your cigarette before seeming to suddenly remember something, dipping your hand into the waistband of your skirt and pulling out a pack “ sorry my manners. Want one? “ he took one with a nod of thanks “ can I sit? “
You sat down carefully beside him then with a long sigh, tucking your legs beneath you, and leant forward so he could light the cigarette between his lips with the end of yours. 
“ thanks “ you both sat quietly for a short while. Smoking and watching the ripples in the water. He didn’t mind it actually, as much as he had been slightly annoyed at you disturbing his attempt to sleep. You were decent company. 
You rarely strayed from Dutch’s side, but on the odd occasion you had and Arthur had stumbled upon you having a moment to yourself at the edge of camp it had been quite nice. So he didn’t mind sitting there with you, company. For you both. 
“ I think you’re nice. By the way “ you said to break the silence, refrenching his previous comment of bad men lingering in the woods. 
“ No offense to you Miss, but you’re in love with old Dutch. I don’t think you’re particularly qualified to be sayin’ whether folk is nice or not “ he said it teasingly in some hopes of making you smile. And it did. A little. 
“ maybe not “ he watched you bring your cigarette to your lips again, glancing at your hands. Nails perfectly trimmed and not a single speck of dirt or sign of a scar. Hands that had never had to lift a finger. Ever. It was an interesting contrast to his own. Calloused and scarred and bruised “ but Dutch he… he…Can I ask you something? “ 
“ Sure “ he said and flicked his cigarette away. 
“ Do you think I’m beautiful Arthur? “ you asked meekly. Your face was sad. Lingering innocence yet to be wiped away by life somehow, the kind that only remained because you had lived a life so sheltered. Even with Dutch you were as sheltered as could be “ and don’t lie. Please “
“ I think you’re beautiful, sure “ you turned back to the water again, tossing your own cigarette before promptly lighting another. 
“ Dutch doesn’t. Not anymore. Barely even looks at me “ Arthur ran a hand over his face, not entirely sure what he was supposed to say to you in the situation. At all “ I know I know I don’t expect you to agree. You two you’re…you’re like two peas in a pod aren’t you? “ you said with a small laugh, but it held no humour. You took a long drag of your cigarette. 
“ me and Dutch it’s… we go back a long way. But… I will agree the way he’s been treatin’ you. Ain't nice. Not when you done nothin’ but be loyal to him for so long “ you turned back to him again and gave a small smile. It was like a wave of relief had washed right over you. 
Someone was finally listening. 
“ I think he’s got his eyes on Mary-Beth “ you mumbled, red stained lips wrapping around your cigarette again. Much like how he had found himself admiring your hands he now found himself admiring your lips. Soft and plump and stained red in the way they often were. 
He blamed it on his fatigue. 
“ he’d be a fool to give you up. You’re kind, loyal, hell you might jus’ be the most beautiful woman I know. He’s in a weird place right now. He’ll snap outta it, be back to readin’ you Evelyn Miller in no time. You’ll see “ maybe the last part wasn’t entirely true. But the first part was. And you seemed to bask in his compliments. He wondered when the last time Dutch had said something nice to you had actually been. 
“ Thank you “ you looked as though you might cry again. And he really hoped you wouldn’t. He didn’t like to see you cry. And he really wouldn’t know what to say to you then. Once again you turned your attention back to the water and gave a small sigh “ maybe I chose the wrong outlaw “ you said with a small laugh “ always have thought you were quite handsome “ 
He nearly choked on his own saliva, clearing his throat in hopes to pass it out smoothly. He didn’t know if it had worked. 
“ Really? “ 
“ Hmm “ you mused, tilting your head inquisitively to the side “ but you were oh so hung up on that Mary girl when I found Dutch”
“ Yeah well. Mary she’s- that’s all done with now “ maybe Mary was the reason he seemed to sympathise with you so. Because he too had had a broken heart. Though he was sure his was not as brutal as yours. 
“ Guess we both have bad taste don’t we Mr Morgan “ he chuckled and nodded. 
“ That we do miss. That we do “ he placed a gentle hand to your shoulder and squeezed in some form of comfort “ don’t worry bout Dutch though. Really. He’ll come to his senses and if…if he don’t then. Any man would be lucky to have ya “ you sniffled and he figured you’d started crying again “ I didn’t mean to upset- “
“ No. No I’m fine. It’s just…you mean it all don’t you? All these kind words? “ he shrugged and then nodded. 
“ Sure I do. You’re a beautiful woman. Inside an out “ something seemed to flash across your face, a million and one things whirring away behind your eyes. He’d never been that good at reading people, never one for knowing what people were thinking. And the look on your face was the most confusing he’d ever seen. 
The next part happened far too quickly for him to process it. Maybe because he was tired, maybe because he truly hadn’t even slightly suspected you to do it. You flicked away the butt of your cigarette and leaned forward, one hand to his leg and the other to his neck. And kissed him. 
He was taken aback and you pulled away before he could make any attempt to figure out what you’d just done. 
“ Sorry “ you sighed in slight annoyance, seemingly at yourself, sitting back beside him again. Like it was no big deal. Just something that had happened and had no real consequence “ shit- sorry “ Arthur scratched the back of his neck awkwardly and shrugged with a small laugh. Attempting to play it as cool as you clearly were. 
Maybe he’d finally cracked and entered some weird fatigue induced psychosis, hallucinations and hearing voices. And kissing Dutch’s woman. 
“ S’okay. No harm done “ he was bewildered. Trying to process the last 30 seconds and coming up completely blank. 
“ Just the way you talk about me I- Lord forgive me “ he was certain he must have looked half dense. Still completely confused at what on earth was happening with you. And maybe, just maybe, a tiny bit flustered at having a woman like you kiss him. Even if you were begging the Lord for forgiveness right after it “ no one’s spoken to me like that in a long time and…and I wish they had. I want to be told I’m beautiful again. I want to be kissed. I want I want…I want a lot of things “ 
Maybe Arthur was a stupid, idiotic fool. Maybe too many gunshot wounds and bumps to the head had finally caught up to him. Maybe he too wanted to act on his ever growing annoyance with how Dutch was behaving. But he found himself reaching out, fingers tucking under your chin to turn your face to look at him. Your eyes were so beautiful up close. Practically sparkling in the moonlight.
Oh he was such a fool. 
“ could’a jus’ asked “ a small smile tugged at your lips and you laughed a little. 
“ Yeah. Of course. Because you’d have said yes Arthur? “ he shrugged. He didn’t know if he would’ve actually. But now the thought was in his head “ alright “ you whispered and shuffled a little closer to him “ indulge me “ 
His thumb was absentmindedly brushing over your jaw, looking at you in the light of the moon and wondering how on earth Dutch wasn’t constantly begging for your attention. If he had a woman like you constantly hanging off his every word he wouldn’t know how to act. Would be like a mangy dog trailing around after you for food.  
“ I might’ve “ you gave a roll of your eyes but you were smiling still, a beautiful, tempting smile.
You were a temptress. A siren. Luring him in with your beauty to do something terrible. And you were vulnerable. Sad and seeking appreciation. And he was truly debating it. 
“ Well…“ you started quietly, looking up at him through your long lashes in a way that made his chest go tight “ there is… still time for you to say yes “ 
“ we ain’t gonna tell no one bout this y’hear? This it’s… it’s jus’ between me and you. Okay? “ your eyebrows furrowed for a second looking up at him intently, as if trying to figure out if he was joking or not. If he was serious. He wasn’t entirely sure himself, needed you to agree or disagree to put the thought to rest.  His thumb continued to brush along your jaw tenderly and your eyes fell closed for a moment. 
How long had it been since someone had touched you with such care? That something as simple as that seemed to mean so much to you. 
“ I understand “ you whispered, eyes flickering down to his lips again. He pulled you in close, barely an inch between your lips and then spoke again “ you’ll give me what I want? Don’t treat me like him “ 
“ Anythin’ ya want. You got it. I’ll give ya what you deserve “ you let a shuddering breath escape and gave a small nod before closing the gap between you both again. 
He hadn’t kissed anyone in a while, but he sure found his footing quickly. You kissed him like he was your source of air, climbing your way into his lap and slipping your hands into his hair. You tasted of cigarette smoke and something almost sweet. Whatever it was, it was an intoxicating mix. You were like a siren singing your call in his ear, drawing him in and taking him for your own. The weight of you in his lap was almost familiar, welcoming. Just… nice. 
He had almost forgotten just how fun it was to kiss a woman. How so many men seemed to shun it as boring, pointless- Dutch obviously included. But Arthur had always loved it. Had spent many a night as a youngster sneaking his way into Mary’s room just to kiss her. To spend hours kissing and talking and kissing some more. 
Kissing you was something else. Addictive. Intoxicating. 
Eventually he had to pull away, his lungs screaming at him for air. Your hands slipped out from his hair and down to grasp at the collar of his shirt, resting your forehead on his. 
“ Anything I want you say? “ you asked quietly, breathless. 
“ Anythin’ “ you smiled and lifted your head, a quiet determination settling over you. Your lipstick had smeared and he wondered how much of it was now on his own face. 
“ okay… undress me then “ you softly commanded, shifting slightly in his lap “ please. Dutch never- he makes me do it myself, barely even looks I- Please “ 
He almost laughed to himself about now he immediately thought getting you naked was entirely too risky. As if the entire situation alone wasn’t risky anyway. But he didn’t want to think too hard about that, instead simply channelled his recent annoyance towards Dutch into his actions. Tried to tell himself he was doing a good thing, taking care of you. 
You watched his face carefully as he gently untucked your shirt from where it was tucked into your skirt, some silky soft thing that probably cost more than everything he owned in his clothing trunk put together. He undid every pearl button slowly, eyes darting up to your face as he did. Your chest was heaving in long, heavy breaths. You were nervous. Or excited. He couldn’t tell which. 
You shivered lightly when he pushed it from your shoulders, now only the soft cotton of your chemise between his hands and your chest. Your nipples had hardened, from the slight night chill or lust he couldn’t say. But he found himself unable to resist the sight, leaning forward and capturing one between his lips through the cotton. You gasped softly, a sound so beautiful it made him groan. You sounded delicate. Innocent. You’d never made such sounds when he’d overheard you with Dutch. In fact a majority of the time you almost sounded in pain. 
But this sound wasn’t that. This sound was beautiful. And he wanted to hear more. One hand pushed at your back to bring you closer, the other palmed at your neglected breast in hopes you’d make the sound again. And you did. Gentle, soft gasps as his tongue dampened the material of your chemise, teeth tugging at you gently through the material. Your hand found his hair again, raking your fingers through it and arching your back into his touch. 
He couldn’t imagine why Dutch had never wanted to do such a thing. How could he not want to hear you make those pretty pretty sounds? How could he not want to feel you writhing in his lap and yearning to be touched. Maybe Dutch was more of a fool than he had originally thought. 
“ Need you to touch me- properly I- take this off “ your sentence was choppy, like you weren’t focussed enough to truly articulate the words you wanted to say. But he understood, pulling your chemise over your head and dropping it to land with your shirt. 
He took a moment just to look at you, not even entirely because he knew you’d want him to. Just because he wanted to. He’d be a liar if he said he hadn’t wondered what was hiding under your expensive clothes once or twice. How could he not when he had to try sleep through the sounds of you and Dutch of a night. 
“ God damn “ he said softly, hands soothing over your waist as you basked in his admiring stare, taking in the feeling of finally being looked at. Properly. 
“ like what you see Mr Morgan “ you asked, voice sultry and low in a way that made his cock twitch in his pants. 
“ Dutch is a damn fool “ is all he could say, leaning forward to kiss you again, his hands moving to grab at your chest. You moaned into the kiss as he squeezed and massaged your breasts with his large hands, seizing the opportunity to dip his tongue into the warmth of your mouth. Your fingers in his hair, twisting strands around your fingers and tugging lightly. He felt like he was on cloud nine. Certain he’d somehow taken a stumble through the veil and ended up at heaven's gates. 
He wasn’t a particularly religious man, but the way he was prepared to worship and praise you could truly be considered blasphemous. 
He couldn’t resist the temptation of getting his mouth on you again much longer, dragging his lips from yours and wrapping them around a pebbled nipple instead. You rolled your hips against him, those beautiful soft moans still falling past your lips. This was what you had wanted from him. To be worshipped. To be looked at as the beautiful temptress of a woman you were. And not merely glanced at and then used like some two dollar whore in a saloon. 
He wanted to nip at your skin, bite and soothe it with his tongue. But he knew he couldn’t. Couldn’t risk Dutch seeing it if he felt the need to stop ignoring you for a short while for his own needs. But oh how he wanted to. To mark up your smooth skin with reminders that you were desired. That you could look at as they faded and be reminded that you were wanted. 
“ I need more “ you whispered “ Arthur please. Give me more “ another roll of your hips followed by a small whimper told him enough. 
“ I know I got ya “ he murmured against your skin, pressing kisses up your sternum and your neck. Nose brushing at the underside of your jaw and working his way back to your lips again “ stand up. Lemme get you out of these damn clothes “ he caught the smile on your face as you stood up, he stayed seated and ran his hands over the fabric covering your hips. Something seemed to blaze in your eyes as you looked down on him. He realised it was most probably you that was usually being leered down on, but not now. 
Not with him. Not with Arthur. Arthur looked up at you like the goddess you were, looked up at you with what he knew was a silent pleading in his eyes. Dutch would never ask he knew it. Dutch took. Stole. Used. Arthur didn’t. Wouldn’t. 
“ I like how you look at me “ you said quietly, hand soothing over his hair “ you make me feel beautiful “
“ Cause y’are “ he murmured, hands reaching to the ties of your skirt. He wanted to see more. Wanted to see all of you. 
You helped him with the slightly tedious task of getting your skirts and undergarments off, but all so slowly. Taking his time. Making sure he appreciated every single layer of clothing you removed for him, right down to unlacing your boots and holding your leg gently to help you out of them. Until you stood there as naked as the day you were born, illuminated by the moonlight on the water. 
“ well ain’t you a sight “
Your skin was so smooth. Soft. Not a single scar that he could see. The skin of a woman who had never had to lift a finger. Had never known the hardships that he had. The only true blemish on your skin was the almost completely faded bruises on your hips. Fingertips. Dutch. 
He soothed his hands up your legs, pressing soft kisses to the pillowy flesh of your thighs as he went, and stopped as he reached them. 
“ He can be a little rough. It’s how he likes it “ you answered before he could even ask. Arthur too had been known to have his rougher moments. But he could never hurt you. Never mark you in anyway other than that of affection and care. 
“ I ain’t like that “ 
“ I know. That’s why I want you “ he pulled you back down into his lap, his large hands splaying over your hips as he took yet another moment just to look. To admire. To thank whatever stupid damn God may exist for placing such a heavenly body in his presence “ I feel a little like the odd one out here though “ you said with a small smile, tracing a finger down from the open top buttons of his shirt to his pants. 
He’d been far too occupied with you to even really notice the fact that he was ridiculously overdressed in comparison. 
“ Can’t have that now can we darlin’ “ your smile grew and you made quick work of the buttons on his shirt, pushing it off his shoulders with a gentle sigh. You ran your fingers through the hair on his chest, nails scratching lightly at his skin and peppering lipstick stained kisses as you went. Littering his collarbones, his sternum.
“ much better “ your hands kept roaming and your lips kept kissing. Hands seemingly wanting to touch him all, scratching lightly up his sides and over his waist, his stomach and his ribs. Slowly moving to slide over his shoulders and loop around his neck. You rolled your hips against him again and whined softly. He was so hard it was growing painful as he stayed restrained by his pants. But he wasn’t selfish. Not like Dutch. And he wasn’t about to seek out any form of pleasure himself until he had you seeing the stars you deserved. 
“ tell me what y’want “ he murmured, peppering soft kisses across your jaw. 
“ touch me “ you sighed blissfully “ please touch me “ 
His hand slipped down in between your bodies, brushing past the soft curls between your legs and couldn’t contain the groan of a sound that left him when he felt how warm and wet you were. 
“ Christ “ he muttered as your head dropped to his shoulder with a shuddering breath “ he ever touch you like this? “ he asked lowly, already knowing the answer. Why would he? He didn’t get anything out of it. 
But Arthur did. Oh Arthur did. 
“ no “ you whispered “ no never…please. More “ he tested the waters, pressing lightly against your clit and revelling in the squeak of a sound that it caused you to make. 
“ or like this? " You shook your head again, breathing shakily as he dragged his finger through the wetness and drew light circles around your entrance. 
“ Arthur “ you moaned his name in the most delicious way as he pushed his finger inside, burying it to the knuckle 
“ yeah and what about this darlin? “ he again knew the answer. Dutch didn’t care about your pleasure. Didn’t care about wasting time on something as simple as making you whimper and whine for more “ he touch you like this? “ 
“ no “ 
“ think ya can take one more for me? “ you nodded again and he withdrew his finger, gathering your slick on his other before pushing them both past the resistance of your entrance “ that’a girl “ he pumped his fingers in and out steadily, curling and probing at your velvety soft walls to test what you liked. 
“ This is so… oh god. This isn’t proper at all “ you laughed slightly, melting into a soft moan. Arthur chuckled, lifting your face up so you’d look at him. 
“ Ain’t proper at all? It’s damn right filthy darlin” your cheeks were aflame and you closed your eyes for a moment, grinding yourself against his hand “ look at ya. Drippin all over ma fingers like that. Ain’t proper. Not one bit “ you smiled, a cheeky, devious smile that made him lean forward and kiss you again. 
You were so wet it was obscene. He couldn’t tell where the sounds of you kissing stopped and the sopping sounds of his fingers began. You continued to grind down against his palm, practically riding his fingers, his whole hand wet and sticky with you. 
And he wanted to taste it. To taste you. To flood his mouth with the slick, liquid gold covering his fingers. It was an almost primal desire, like a desperation as strong as needing air. He needed to. He had to. 
“ Darlin’ “ he murmured, lifting your head from where it had fallen to his neck again “ gotta let me taste you. You gotta “ the look on your face only made him want it more. Your skin flushed and eyes blown out with nothing but pure lust and desire. He’d never needed anything more. Nothing else mattered, not the painful hardness in his pants, not the realisation that you were very much Dutch’s girl. He didn’t care about any of that. He just needed to be between your thighs. 
“ really? No one’s ever- oh god. Yes. Yes. Please Arthur “ he withdrew his fingers making you whimper and quickly grabbed his discarded shirt and lay it down on the ground. Then he kissed you again as he wrapped his arms around your waist, gently turning you to lay back on the shirt. It still couldn’t have been particularly comfortable. But you didn’t seem to mind, tugging at his hair and lifting your hips up against him as he hovered over you. 
He took his time moving down. Leaving a long and slow trail of hot, wet, kisses on your skin. You writhed underneath him, whining softly and twisting your hands in his shirt underneath you. He took extra time with your thighs. Kissing up from the inside of your knee and stopping before he could place his mouth where he really wanted to, then repeating with the other. 
“ Arthur “ you whined, still squirming around and desperate. 
“ I know. I got ya. Gonna make those pretty sounds for me again yeah? "You nodded, pushing yourself up onto your elbows to watch him as his head sank lower, spreading your legs wider to give him full access to the centre of you “ that’s a good girl “ he spread you open with his fingers, in awe of the way you parted for him. Like petals on a flower, dripping with the morning dew. 
But you were far more delectable. A forbidden fruit begging to be tasted. 
And oh was it pretty. Even in the dark, in nothing but the light of the moon on the water, it was pretty. Begging to be tasted, touched. Admired. 
The sound you made as he dragged his tongue from your weeping hole to your clit was like music to his ears. He didn’t know how he managed to not come in his pants just at the sound of it. 
You still kept it quiet, but loud enough for him. 
His own, deep, guttural moan escaped from his chest as he licked again. Your taste flooding his mouth in a way so so much better than he could’ve imagined. 
He ate you like he was starved. Like a savage predator that hadn’t seen meat for days, like a man ready for the gallows enjoying his last meal. His arms wrapped around your thighs, keeping your legs apart for him as you bucked and squirmed against his face. It was visceral. Carnal. You made him feel like his grip on his own composure and control was weaker than ever, that he was holding on to it with nothing but his fingertips. 
“ Arthur “ he dipped his tongue into the welcoming warmth of your cunt, his eyes falling closed for a moment as he felt you clench around him, desperate for more. Desperate for him. And he would give you more, would give you anything you asked of him. But not until he made you come first. 
He let go of one of your legs and brought his fingers back to their previous position, wanting to feel you again. To be inside of you, as close as he could get. To make you see stars. 
The flat of his tongue found your clit again, certain he could feel you pulsing against him. Desperate and full of desire for him. He felt honoured, privileged. That you were so loyal to Dutch, glued to his side. Never even batting an eye at anyone else. And yet you had broken that for him. Had sought him out because you knew he would treat you well. 
Your back arched off the ground as he sunk them back into you, slipping in with a welcome ease. His thick fingers pumped into you at a steady pace, his tongue diverting all its attention to your clit. Lapping and sucking and letting you press his face harder against you as you tugged on his hair. 
“ don’t stop please dont- Arthur “ he had no intentions of stopping, none at all. In fact he simply honed in on his ministrations, working harder to push you closer and closer to the edge of the orgasm he knew you had been craving for weeks. 
“ Not gonna stop darlin. Ain’t stopping until you come for me. Taste so good, so good “ he murmured against you, curling his fingers and hitting a spot that made you gasp and your body shudder “ there we go, right there “ 
He flicked his tongue over your sensitive bundle of nerves, looking at you as best he could to gauge your reaction. You were pulling a little painfully at his hair, squirming and rolling your hips against his face. He let you do it. Let you be the one using a man for your pleasure, rather than being the one used for once. 
Your sounds were sinful. Melodic. He took it all in. Basked in the noises you made for him, the delicious taste of you on his tongue, drunk on you. On your taste. Your smell. 
“ Arthur- Arthur please I- “ you babbled, a slightly smug smile working its way onto his face as he watched your prim and proper facade melt away “ don’t stop “ 
He hummed an assurance that he wouldn’t, your hips bucking against his face as he did. You were so unbelievably wet, dripping out around his fingers and soaking the hair of his beard. He would never have thought it of you. The way you held yourself around camp, so poised and prim. The accent when you spoke that made everyone else around you sound so common. And yet there you were. On your back in the woods, chasing an orgasm being offered to you by an outlaw. Repeating his name like a mantra. 
And not even that of the outlaw you were in love with.
“ Arthur- “
Only seconds later it happened. You held a hand over your mouth as your orgasm hit you, muffling your choked moans, back arching off the ground and walls clamping down on his fingers as he worked you through it. Tongue still working diligently at your clit until you pushed your hand at his head, squirming away a little. 
He almost didn’t want to stop. Could’ve happily stayed there a while longer, but moved back, an obscene wet sound in the late night silence as he withdrew his fingers. 
He took his fingers to his mouth, sucking the remnants of your climax onto his tongue. Unable to control himself. You watched him do it, mouth slightly agape and eyes half open with some desperate undeniable look of utter desire. He could almost see the way it made you feel, could see you unable to contain the overwhelming feeling of realising you were desired. Wanted. 
“ God. You are unbelievable “ you whispered, pushing yourself up onto your elbows and grabbing at his arm. Your fingers looped around his wrist and tugged his hand towards your own mouth. He shook his head with a chuckle, slightly in awe as you took those same two fingers between your red lips. 
Your tongue swirled between his digits, plush lips wrapping around them and sucking. Your eyes locked on his as you did. It made his cock ache. He wanted your lips on him, wanted your tongue swirling around his length and milking him dry. He could imagine it if he thought hard enough. The way you hummed slightly in appreciation as you sucked his fingers clean, sent vibrations straight through his bones. Rattling him to the core. But he would never ask that of you. But the thought was one he would hold onto. It made him shift slightly. 
“ you ain’t so prim and proper lady “ he murmured as he withdrew his fingers, a string of saliva connecting his fingertips and your lips “ This ain’t very proper of you miss “ Arthur said with a small smile, teasing “ rollin’ around in the dirt with the likes of me “ 
“ Oh to hell with being proper if it means I get to feel like this “ you said with a small laugh and he kissed you again for what felt like the millionth time. He wondered if you could taste yourself on his lips, smell the heady delicious smell of you on his beard.
He would’ve been more than happy to leave it at that. No matter how badly he wanted to sheath himself inside you and stay there for eternity. His goal had been your pleasure and he had achieved it. 
But as he kissed you your hands began working at the buckle of his gun belt, opening it with a skilled ease that made him pull back. 
“ Darlin’ you ain’t gotta do that- “
“ shush “ you pushed at him lightly so you could sit up and went to work on the buttons on his pants next “ I want to. I- Arthur take them off “ he made far quicker work of his own clothes than he had of yours and you leant back on your elbows to watch him. 
You looked like a pinup girl. Like something he’d seen drawn come to life. Your eyes seemed hungry as you looked at him, dragging down his body and lingering on his rock hard cock. He was practically throbbing with want, the tip an angry shade of pink and leaking precum slightly embarrassingly “ come here. Please. Back down here “ 
He did as he was asked, crawling back over your body as you eyed him greedily. 
“ We really don’t…I mean, If y’don’t wanna- “ his words stuck in his throat as your fingers wrapped around the length of him with a small sigh. 
“ I want you to I just…can I ask one thing? “ he couldn’t get the word yes to escape his mouth, your fingers squeezing him softly in a way that made him see flashes of white in his vision. So he simply nodded “ don’t fuck me. Dutch fucks me, make love to me “ you seemed a little embarrassed at the request. But he didn’t think it was embarrassing. In fact he had had no plans to use you as brutally as Dutch. He was almost a little offended you thought he might. 
“ Told you, anythin’ you want. You got it “ you smiled softly and pressed another kiss to his lips before laying back down again. He positioned himself over you, caging your head in between his arms. And it truly was incredibly intimate. He wondered when the last time you had had such intimacy was. If you’d ever received such a thing from Dutch. 
He spat on his hand and grabbed a hold of his sensitive cock, stroking himself a couple of times to get himself slick. Not that he really needed to, you were already wetter than he’d ever known a woman to be. But the last thing he wanted was your discomfort. He lined himself up with you, eyes trained on your face as he dragged his weeping tip between your folds. You gasped as he caught your clit, still sensitive and alert from your first orgasm. 
“ Arthur please “ you whimpered rolling your hips up against him, so desperate to have him inside of you. 
“ So God damn wet for me “ he murmured “ such a good girl ain’t ya? “ you whined in answer, fingers wrapping around what you could of his bicep and digging your perfectly trimmed nails into his skin “ gonna make you feel so good I promise darlin’ jus’ like you deserve yeah? “ you whispered out a yes and brought your other hand to the back of his neck. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from you, still running his cock along the length of your slit. Teasing. 
“ Keep looking at me. Please look at me Arthur “ he continued to do as asked. Again. Though his eyes had barely strayed from your face anyway “ I need you so badly “ Eyes locked on yours, he finally pushed into you, he took it slow. Letting you take it inch by inch, watching the look of ecstasy wash over your face. Your eyes fell closed. 
He fought to retain his own composure, overwhelmed by the tight, wet, warmth of your walls enveloping him. He could feel every unique ridge and bump that made your cunt oh so perfect, feel every muscle stretch and contract as you adjusted to him. 
“ god- oh god “ 
“ shh shh easy there. I got ya “ he paused once he was seated inside of you, grabbing at your hip with one hand to angle your hips better. Allowing you to comfortably take all of him in. He waited, let you adjust to his size, not daring to move before he got the go ahead from you “ there you go, look at you, takin’ all of me like that. So good f’me “ you basked in his praise, a dopey kind of smile spreading across your face.
“ so much bigger than him “ you whispered with a small laugh and Arthur couldn’t help the smug smile on his face. Kissing you and touching you and making you come on his tongue had been one thing. But having you like this? Having his cock buried to the hilt inside of you, so unbelievably close together. And to then be told that? To know he was about to do you better than Dutch ever had. Ever could. It felt like the biggest fuck you to the man that had been not only mistreating him of late, but also the goddess of a woman beneath him “ I’m good. You can move. Please move “ 
He didn’t need telling twice. Pulling out almost completely and thrusting back in in one smooth motion. The pace he fell into was just as you’d asked. Loving. Tender. But hard and deep, making sure his hips were flush with yours with every stroke. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulled his face back down to kiss him again. 
If anyone had spotted you they’d have easily mistaken you both for a lovesick couple having a private moment to yourselves. The entire thing intimate and passionate. No one would assume it was an affair in motion, hidden away in the woods by the shoreline in fear of your lover finding the pair of you there. 
But it was what you wanted. What you had needed. And he felt privileged to provide. 
He pulled back from your lips to watch you again, enthralled by the way your face relaxed and twisted in the pleasure he was providing you. You continued to spill those angelic sounds from your throat, growing breathier and higher pitch as he continued to drag his cock against the sopping, sensitive heat of your cunt. He had to focus hard not to finish in seconds. So much build up paired with being practically celibate for months was truly doing him no favours, but he focussed. He wasn’t letting this end until you came once more. You deserved it. 
“ Keep those pretty eyes on me “ he murmured as they fell closed again “ that’s it darlin’, look at me there ya go “ everytime he spoke the slightest word of praise you practically beamed, so desperate to hear it. To be told you were good. Beautiful. So different to Dutch constantly yelling at you about how annoying you were, how much your mere presence bothered him these days. So he kept it up. 
“ Doin’ so well for me. This pussy it’s perfect, ain’t that right? C’mon tell me “ he urged, still fighting off his ever looming orgasm. The sounds alone was enough to make him want to burst. Sweat slicked skin on skin, the wet sounds of your cunt dripping around the swollen intrusion of him. And those sweet sweet moans of yours. 
“ yes “ you whimpered “ it’s perfect “ 
“ That’s a good girl “ he increased his pace ever so slightly and your hands slipped from his arms to his back, dragging your nails down him to try to pull him impossibly closer to you. 
He moved a hand down between your bodies, rubbing your clit in time with his thrusts, grunting and choking back his own moans as you squeezed him. Like your body never wanted him to leave, gripping his cock with your cunt and making it ever more harder to hold back. He couldn’t help but have a look, glancing down to see the way you stretched around him, mesmerised at the way you took him in so deep. 
“ tell me I- oh. Tell me I’m beautiful “ you whimpered, sounding almost like you might cry. From pleasure, from upset. He didn’t know. But he continued to do as asked. 
“ you’re beautiful “ he murmured picking up his pace a little more, his sweat slick skin slapping against yours. He was desperate to see you come again. Wanted to see your face up close this time, watch your eyes roll back and your kiss swollen lips part in ecstasy “ so beautiful darlin. Doin’ so well f’me, takin’ me so well “ 
“ don’t stop, don't stop “ he dropped his head to your neck whispering every word of praise he could think of into your ear, your body arching up against his and whimpering and whining with every word. 
“ ain’t ever looked prettier than this “ he whispered, his own voice becoming breathless with the effort “ shit- look at ya, takin’ my cock so well. So pretty darlin’ “ 
Your second orgasm seemed to shock you as much as him, clawing at his skin to hold him close as your body trembled beneath him, biting at his shoulder to muffle your moans. 
He didn’t mean to finish inside of you, had fully intended to pull out. But the way your cunt had squeezed him, the sounds you had made as he pushed you over the edge for the second time.
He muffled his own groan of pleasure in your neck, fingers digging into the dry earth beneath you, spilling load after load whilst fully sheathed inside of you. His entire body tensed, a pleasure he hadn’t felt in an incredibly long time. His heart was hammering in his chest, blood rushing loudly in his ears as it seemed to drag on forever. 
And then he came to his senses. 
“ m’sorry. Shit. Sorry “ he panted as he tried to compose himself and pushed himself up onto his hands to pull out. But you yanked him back down, arms wrapping around his back again and legs tightening around his waist. 
“ no. Please. Stay. Stay right there. Just a moment would you “ he had come to realise in the past.. how long had you two even been out there? However long it was, he’d come to realise he was terrible at saying no to you. Could never possibly even dream to deny you of anything you wanted from him. And so he slumped back down onto his forearms, dropping his head against your shoulder for a moment. Your chest heaved beneath him and you caught your breath, fingers tracing gentle strokes along his spine. He felt he could stay there for hours. 
“ You doin’ okay? “ he asked, pressing a light kiss to your jaw when he had composed himself a little more. 
“ marvellous Mr Morgan “ you whispered with a small smile “ truly. Marvellous “ he couldn’t help but kiss you again, the long lingering kind meant for two lovers. 
After a few minutes you both finally moved, re dressing in silence and then sitting back in your original position against the tree. He handed you a cigarette, lighting it and placing it between your lips. 
He wondered what he looked like. Wondered what evidence you had left on him. Had he sweated off the lipstick prints on his chest or were they still there? He knew you had scratched his back up good and proper and would have that reminder there for a few days at least. 
“ Thank you. Mr Morgan '' you said quietly after a few silent moments of smoking, blowing out a long stream of smoke “ I mean it I- i'm not sure what I’m supposed to say “ 
“ Don’t say anythin’ “ he said with a small wave of his hand, appearing as blaise as he possibly could but in reality knowing he wasn’t about to forget that night anytime soon “ its fine. Really. Anytime y’need me, for anythin’, you know where I’ll be “ you smiled and he watched your body relax a little more. 
“ you know, i might just take you up on that “ 
He sincerely hoped you would. 
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azrielsdove · 2 months
Text
Best Friend’s Brother: Azriel x Reader
Warnings: Smut, 18+, Kinda Mean Az?
***
“Are you ever going to tell him?” Cassian teased you, peering over his glass as he drank. You rolled your eyes, throwing back the rest of your own drink.
“I don’t know what you mean,” you lied, adding more liquor to your cup. Cassian laughed, shaking his head at you.
“You’re blind if you don’t notice the way he looks at you, anyway.” You stilled at his words, eyes glaring daggers into him.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” You wouldn’t allow yourself the naivety to imagine Azriel felt the same way you did. You had only become a part of the Inner Circle a few years ago, after you accidentally took Rhys down thinking he was a danger. He had been so impressed with you that he immediately offered you a security position and set you up to train under his General and Spymaster. Cassian and you were fast friends, but Azriel left you confused. He rarely spoke to you and passed most of the training off to Cass. Everything he did screamed that he couldn’t care less about you.
Unfortunately, you were enthralled by him.
The few times he did train you were treasured memories, the feel of his hands on your waist as he corrected your position, the way his eyes looked over your body to ensure proper hold. At one of your recent sessions he had tackled you to the ground, hips pinning yours to the sand underneath you. You had allowed him to think your lack of speech was due to shock that he had taken you down so easily, and not because you were going delirious with desire. You had taken a rather long bath after that morning.
“Oh sure, yea, why would I know the male i’ve spent 500 years with? You’re right, you must know him better than I. I apologize, O Great One, for daring to assume.” Cassian mock bowed to you, smirking at your glare. “I know a way to prove it to you.” You hated how he piqued your interest.
“Pray tell, dear friend,” you said, carefully filling your rapidly emptying glass again. You enjoyed the way the drink made your mind fuzzy, the endless thoughts of why Azriel could barely stand you numbed. Cassian leaned closer towards you, a wicked smile on his face.
“Come to training extra early tomorrow. Wear your tightest leathers, the ones from when you first got here.” You narrowed your eyes at him.
“Those stick to my body like a second skin. I’ll look like a pleasure hall whore wearing them.” You didn’t appreciate the way Cassian looked at you, eyes shining proudly.
“That’s what I intend. I’d never lead you astray, would I?” He raised his hand in surrender immediately after he spoke, shaking his head. “Not about anything like this, I promise.” You knew it was a bad idea to agree to whatever plan he was making, but you found yourself nodding and hoping you weren’t going to regret this in the morning.
***
A low whistle met you as you walked into the training ring early the next morning. “Damn, you look even better than I imagined. If this weren’t to get the attention of my brother i’d try to convince you down to my room.” Cassian looked approvingly over you as you crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow at him.
“If your plan fails, I may as well take you up on that. Gods know it’s been too long.” You often played into Cassian’s endless flirting, a key reason as to why your friendship developed so fast. He was right, the leathers were tighter than you had expected as well. You weren’t as toned when you began training. They are already made to fight directly to your body, so pulling on ones from a size ago was almost impossible. Still, you managed to buckle them around you, admiring yourself in the mirror. The leather truly hugged your skin, enhancing your strong thighs and body. “What is your plan, by the way?” You asked, looking suspiciously at Cassian.
“I’m gonna kiss you.” Your jaw dropped at his statement as his laughter floated over the training ring. “Don’t look at me like that! Imagine it, Az comes up here and sees you like that, with me? He’s going to be so jealous I won’t be surprised if he has his way with you right here.” You felt your face heat at his vulgarity, shaking your head quickly.
“No way. No way. What if he instead thinks, oh I dunno, that we are together?” You point out, raising an eyebrow at him.
“Trust me when I tell you that he won’t.” Cassian took a step closer to you, holding out his hand. “I am not as dumb as you may think.” You sighed, reluctantly placing your hand in his and letting him lead you over to the side of the ring. You may as well attempt his plan, however ridiculous you think it is. He places a hand on your waist as he pulls you close to him, the other coming up to cup your face. “If you don’t want to, we don’t have to.”
You shook your head, your hands coming up to rest on his chest. “What do I have to lose? If it doesn’t work, at least I got to spend my morning with a handsome male,” you quipped, winking dramatically at him. You felt his laugh under your hands, the nerves of what you were about to do calming down. This was Cassian, your best friend. You could trust him.
He dipped his head down towards you, eyes locking onto yours once more to ensure you were okay with this. You pushed up on your toes and connected your lips, using the last little bit of confidence you had. Cassian’s hand slid to the back of your head, tangling itself in your hair as he angled you up into him. You couldn’t help but smile into the kiss, enjoying how he so clearly knew what he was doing. You moved your arms up to lock around his neck, arching your body into his touch. He nipped at your bottom lip and you gladly opened your mouth to him, almost forgetting why you were doing this.
Almost.
Anticipation slithered up your spine and you forced your eyes to stay shut, even though you wanted to peek and see if Azriel had arrived yet. Cassian’s hand flattened across your back, pulling you tighter against him. You lost yourself in his kiss, allowing your body to relax into his hold.
Something cold and weightless tightened around your calf, pulling your attention away from Cassian as you looked down. Your heart was racing as you took in one of Azriel’s shadows, swirling anxiously around your ankles. Cass didn’t allow the little thing to distract from your plan, bringing his lips up and down the side of your neck. You tilted your head back to allow him more access, an embarrassingly needy noise slipping from your mouth when he nipped at your skin. The shadow spun faster around you, another one coming to wrap around your waist and tug you from Cassian’s grip. You stumbled backwards, nearly tripping over more shadows behind you. “Wha-“ you began, cut off by a shadow wrapping around your throat. Cassian’s eyes widened and he glanced behind you, true fear on his face. That was certainly not comforting.
An arm wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling your back flush against a strong chest. You forced your breathing to stay steady, realizing it was Azriel behind you. “Cassian,” he said slowly, “what do you think you’re doing?” His voice was quiet, but threat laced his words. Cassian paled, raising his hands in surrender.
“Now Az, let me just explain-“ You shook your head as best you could against the shadows hold, not wanting Cassian to embarrass you further. As if this could get any worse. You were going to murder him for this.
“Leave us. Now,” Azriel commanded Cassian, voice still dangerously calm. You couldn’t help but be a little worried as you watched your friend practically run out of the training area. If Cassian didn’t think he could deal with Azriel right now, what chance did you have?
The shadows disappeared from your body, but the arm around your waist only tightened. You repressed a shudder as you felt Azriel’s lips brush the tip of your ear, leaning down to whisper to you. “What kind of game do you think you’re playing?” You sucked in a breath, all confidence gone now that you were alone.
“I-I’m not playing a game,” you stuttered out, cursing Cassian in your head.
“Mhm,” Azriel said, his other hand coming to trace up and down your thigh. “You just happen to be dressed in these delightful things,” his hand slid between your legs, squeezing your inner thigh. “You show up extra early to practice, and I find you with my brother’s lips on your pretty little neck?” He ghosted his own over the same stretch of skin Cassian had kissed, a shiver running down your spine. “And to make it worse, I have to listen as you make that delicious noise for him?” He nipped your neck in the same spot as Cassian, causing you to gasp in surprise. “Hm, not quite.” His hand between your legs moved up, fingers finding you easily over the tight fabric. You bit your lip and tipped your head back as he circled your clit, the teasing pressure not nearly enough with your leathers in the way. “Look at you, already so reactive for me.” He pressed slow, hot kisses along your throat, his fingers continuing their almost perfect teasing.
“Az-“ You breathed out, arching into his touch. “It wasn’t, ah, it wasn’t real.” He chuckled darkly against your skin, his fingers pressing harder onto you.
“Oh, I know. I don’t take Cassian’s sloppy seconds.” His words were punctuated with a sharp bite under your ear, his teeth sucking in the skin there. You knew he was undoubtedly leaving a bruise, marking you as his. A rather embarrassing whimper left your lips, his fingers still punishing you over your leathers. “That’s more like it,” he groaned, biting a second spot on your neck. You have another helpless noise, enjoying the way it clearly affected him. “I’m going to make you cum, just like this. Do you understand?” He moved his fingers tight against you, playing you like an instrument he had trained for. His lips brushed against your ear again, sucking the lobe of it into his mouth. “I’m going to make you cry out my name, without ever truly touching you.” Heat rose in your cheeks at the humiliation of it. He was going to ruin you without any effort.
And you were going to let him.
You moaned his name as you felt the pleasure build in your core, pushing yourself harder against his hand. “I always knew you’d be so good for me,” he growled, a shadow angling your face towards him. You almost finished at the look in his eyes, his pupils blown wide as he worked you. “I want to look at you when you come undone for me.” You moaned again, trying desperately to lift your head up to kiss him. The shadow kept you in place, a slow smile spreading over Azriel’s face. “Not yet.” He leaned down enough that your lips were a breath away from his, but not any closer. You shook in his hold as the pleasure his fingers were bringing intensified, the teasing too much to bear.
“Azriel, please,” you gasped out, fighting against the shadow. You could feel yourself about to snap, legs quivering as you climbed that peak. He said nothing, only watching you with those stunning eyes of his as his fingers pushed you over the edge. You went rigid against him, mouth open in a silent scream as your orgasm took over. He kept working you through it, prolonging your pleasure as long as he could. He stopped when you collapsed in his arms, chest heaving as you sucked in air, trying desperately to come back down. He released you then, watching as you stumbled before turning to face him. His eyes drifted down your body, stopping on the wet spot he had made between your legs.
“I’d say you’re ready for training now.”
***
Here is a short little smutty piece for Azriel Baby <3. I might make this into a mini series 👀. I am still working on Pt.2 of Longing, I just hit a bit of a block and needed to get something else out!! I hope you enjoyed 🩷
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ktgoodmorning · 7 days
Text
Stares of Admiration
(That awkward smile Pt.2)
Alexia Putellas x reader
Catch part one here
You and Alexia decide to take things slow and see where your relationship ends up going.
Lots of fluff. Wasn’t gonna continue this but got some recs so here ya are. Next one will be an injury fic in this same universe. Had to finish it on my phone so I’m hoping the formatting isn’t fucked up.
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Masterlist
Whatever you had going with Alexia was going well so far. You hadn’t made it anything official yet, both somewhat scared to put labels on things, but you were definitely enjoying her newfound presence in your life. There had been a few dates, both of you being extremely intentional about taking things slowly, slower than you ever normally would, but it was going as perfectly as you could’ve ever imagined.
On your second date, Alexia tried to kiss you. To some, it might have seemed weird how slowly you were taking things given that you had dated in the past and obviously already knew each other, but both of you were just too scared to mess it up. You normally would never be the one to make the first move, especially with Alexia, but her hesitation was killing you. After going out to dinner, she had invited you back to her house for a movie night. You had both been exhausted with how packed your schedules had become between preparing for all the games as well as ongoing media appearances. Alexia knew that a movie night would be the perfect way for the two of you to unwind and finally get to relax together.
It was during the movie that you started becoming more aware of her physical presence against you. You were cuddled into her side with one of her arms wrapped around your shoulders to hold you against her. Neither of you realized how terrible of a movie you had chosen, soon resorting to constant comments and mockery of the dialogue to keep you entertained. The two of you were laughing throughout most of the movie, causing you to get further and further lost in Alexia.
You didn’t realize how much you had missed her laugh until you finally got to hear it again after going so long without it. And her eyes. Her eyes. You could get lost in the sea of gold that was her eyes. Every so often, she seemed to catch you staring at her, causing the corners of her mouth to turn into a slight smirk and pull you closer to her. The blonde couldn’t even tease you for it, knowing she felt exactly the same about you.
It was one of these moments that you really locked eyes, both getting fully lost in each other. Your eyes had fallen onto her lips, looking only at her fading smile and how much you missed kissing her. Suddenly all you could think about were the pair of lips in front of you. You had obviously kissed before when you had dated and now it was all you could think about, never missing her kisses as much as you did right now. When you realized how long you had been looking at her, you glanced back up to her eyes, blushing at the realization that she had caught you staring yet again. You were once again distracted by her lips when she spoke softly to you, your faces no more than a few inches apart. “Amor, I have the feeling that you’re trying not to kiss me and I give you permission to just do it.”
Both of you knew that you weren’t normally the one to make any first moves, allowing her to take the lead, however that confirmation was all you needed to close the gap between you and kiss her softly. Somehow it was better than you remembered and what you remembered was still really good. Her thumb ran along your jaw comfortably, still keeping it soft and slow. It was a simple kiss, but it was still a better reunion than you could’ve hoped. “I’ve missed this, amor. Everything about you.”
The relationship between the two of you had finally started to relax more after that night, not being quite so scared of messing things up. Alexia had become much flirtier with you, keeping things light hearted and fun in exactly the way you needed. Neither of you were willing to clue in your teammates yet. It wasn’t anything official and the last thing you needed was any outside opinions on the two of you getting back together. You had both hurt each other plenty during your break up so you knew some of your friends might have a problem with it, despite how happy you were about it.
You had to be careful about when you spent time together if you wanted to keep things quiet, often finding ways to keep yourself busy in the locker room until everyone else left, knowing your captain would always be the last one to leave. It was times like this that Alexia would let her flirty, arrogant side show.
“Like what you see?” She smirked as you broke from your trance, once again caught staring at her as she made her way back to her locker after showering. Dressed only in a sports bra and sweatpants, towel drying her hair as she made her way past you.
“You know the answer is always gonna be yes to that, Ale. Good to know you’re not lacking any confidence though.” You gave her a smile as you stood up and made your way to meet her at her locker.
Your hands flew to the older woman’s waist to pull her into you, while she shrugged, “a little flirting never hurt anyone.” The gap between you closed for you to kiss her hard while she returned your actions with just as much passion allowing one hand to grab the back of your neck, the other resting softly on your hip.
The kiss held more intensity than any of the others you had shared thus far, allowing it to deepen further in the empty locker room. It was as if all the pent up desire that had been building over the last year was finally being let out. You both seemed to now be able to let go of the fear of the two of you falling apart once again and trust that things could work out if you just allowed yourself to feel.
And boy did you feel. You felt the way her long fingers threaded through your hair as she traced your lip with her tongue. The way her hold on your hip had strengthened, allowing her fingers to dig into the skin and hold you tighter, as if she were trying to make sure she couldn’t lose you again. You parted your lips to allow your tongues to work in tandem, once again reunited by the bond you shared. You hummed into her mouth, finally realizing how much you had missed this before she pulled away, both breathing hard to catch your breath.
The blonde’s eyes darted all over your face, trying to make sure you were okay with what was happening. As much as you seemed to be reciprocating, after you both had stressed how slow you wanted to take things, she needed more reassurance before allowing herself to really get more physical with you. “We don’t have to move this fast if you feel uncomfortable. I just need to know that we’re moving somewhere, it doesn’t have to be this.”
You were silent, slightly taken aback by how careful she was being with you, wanting nothing more than to make you happy and comfortable. Of course you knew she was good to you, but the extra step just took it even further, being sure to make you feel like you were her top priority. You didn’t realize how long your silence had lasted until you saw Alexia take a slight step back, taking your silence as reluctance. “Your eyes are already saying yes, amor, but I just need your mouth to tell me the same if you want me to continue.”
You broke into a small smile upon hearing her words, “Yes, Ale. Yes, yes, yes, a million times yes. I will literally always say yes to that. Why don’t we go home and we can continue there, yes?”
And continue you did. After Alexia drove you both to her house, the two of you spent most of your night taking turns pleasing each other and celebrating being together again. To say you enjoyed it was an understatement. Even though it hadn’t been long, something about your newfound connection made everything about your relationship stronger and better than it had been when you dated before. The way you both had matured as individuals over the last year had made your relationship work so much better in every way, including physical. The work Alexia had been putting in at the gym was evident to say the least, eventually causing you to drift off into a deep sleep in Alexia’s arm.
It was the best you had slept in weeks, fully protected by one of your favorite people, only woken up by the sunlight coming through the sides of her curtains. You turned over as you slowly remembered where you were and how your night had gone. The stiffness in your thighs and the smiling face next to you were all you needed for the feelings of the night before to come flooding back. If there was any doubt in your mind that you still loved Alexia, all that was gone now.
As your eyes began to focus you saw Alexia staring at you with a huge smile on her face, blonde hair in a messy pile all over her pillow. She seemed to have no shame in being caught staring, only smiling wider when you woke up. “Ale, how can you be this happy this early in the morning?” You blushed and brought your hands to cover your face, groaning tiredly, “And quit staring at me like a creep.”
She responded with a soft giggle, leaning forward to leave a sweet kiss on your nose. “You’re so pretty when you first wake up.” She left you another quick kiss, this time on your lips. “Did you know you talk in your sleep, amor?” You groaned again. “No no it was cute I promise!” Her arms reached out to you and pulled you to lay on her chest, realizing how tired you still were and dragging her hand through your hair. “I know we said we were going to take it slow, but I’m ready to make things official between us… but only if you are. If you want to wait, we sure can, I just wanted to let you know- I’m ready when you are.”
You lifted your head up to look her in the eyes, suddenly much more awake than you had been a minute ago. Your lips curled into a smile, surprised by how open she was being about her feelings. Alexia wasn’t exactly the most… emotionally available person. She typically kept her feelings to herself, afraid to let her guard down completely and allow others to see her softer side. But here she was, being completely honest about her feelings for you
“I would love nothing more than for you to be my girlfriend again, Ale. I love you. So, so much. More than I ever did before.”
“Hmmm so are you gonna actually ask me or are you gonna make me do it?” You rolled your eyes at her, both grinning at each other, and the direction the conversation was headed.
“Alexia Putellas, will you be my girlfriend… again?” You both broke into a fit of laughter over the mention of your failed past relationship, only calming down when she started leaving quick little kisses all over your face.
“I would love to be your girlfriend again.” She kissed you for real this time, pulling you in by the back of your neck, moving slowly against your lips. “I won’t be letting you go this time, I promise you that. That’s one mistake I won’t ever be making again.”
Masterlist
Hope you enjoyed! I kinda hate how I wrote this one so hopefully you guys didn’t. Always love fluffy nonsense here. Feedback and requests are always welcome.
Part 3
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alotofpockets · 16 days
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Written in the stars | Reneé Rapp x Lioness!Reader
Where Reneé is dating England's star striker.
Reneé Rapp Masterlist | Words: 1.3k
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You and Reneé decided from the start that you weren’t going to publicly address your relationship, and you would just be and do your things. With the both of you living in different continents, and both having a big online presence your comments were often filled with people trying to figure out what Reneé was doing in England so often, and for you to be in America when you had a couple days off. 
With you playing for Arsenal and England, there wasn’t much time to travel. The same counted for your girlfriend, between her acting and music career, there wasn’t always time to see each other, but you always made the best of it. She had spent some time with you in London while she was recording her album, it was nice having her around so much, and her coming to see you play. 
Of course, the first time that Reneé was able to come see you play at Emirates Stadium, a fan spotted her in the crowd.
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reneerappupdates just posted
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reneerappupdates: Renee spotted at Emirates Stadium supporting Arsenal WFC. Source: @wosofan1
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wosofan2: My two worlds colliding!
reneefan: this can't be a coincidence
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People were now definitely convinced that Reneé was dating someone on the team, and the rumours continued. Neither one of you was bothered by the rumours though, the people you both cared about knew about your relationship, and the people that found out along the way, just did. 
“I’m going to miss you so much.” You whispered into your girlfriend’s ear, as you held her close. She was starting her tour in a month, and was flying back home for rehearsals with the band. “I know baby, I’m going to miss you too. It has been amazing having you so close.” You were basking in the cuddles for as long as you could. “You’re going to come see me play here right?” You nodded with a smile, “I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I wish I could come to more shows.” Reneé shrugged, “You’ve got a league to play and a cup to win with Arsenal, and camp with the national team. They can’t miss their starstriker.” While the distance was hard sometimes, you knew you’d make it work, because the both of you were very understanding of the other’s careers. 
Once you said goodbye at the airport, you poured everything into football. Arsenal was in the top three of the league, and ended up winning the cup final. Reneé was the first one you called when you headed into the locker room. While everyone was partying around you, you wanted to see the proud look on your girl’s face. The team teased you for it, but were also happy you found someone to share these moments with. 
The next day Reneé was performing in London. Between her rehearsal and the show, you and Reneé caught up on some well needed cuddles. A bunch of your teammates joined you to see her perform that night. You loved being able to support her before you had to head to England camp. Seeing her in her element, and watching her enjoy the performance and the special moments with the crowd. Of course, you and your teammates were spotted amongst the crowd.
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reneerapp just posted
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reneerapp: LONDON, UK
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reneefan1: best day of my live.
gooner4life: Is no one going to talk about half of the Arsenal girls being here?
↳ awfcfan: first renee at the emirates, and now the girls at her show
↳ gooner4life: she has to be dating one of them right?
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After the concert the two of you parted ways again, as you were headed to England camp, and Reneé had to continue her tour. The two of you facetimed as often as you could, and when times wouldn’t line up, you’d sent voice notes back and forth. When you got back to the hotel after your first match that you tied, Reneé was the first to reassure you. Her tour had started, and she was performing all around Europe, but she watched your match online. She had seen the disappointment in your eyes when the match had ended. “I shouldn’t have missed those shots.” You say in annoyance, while trying to tell her what was going through your head. “You played an amazing game, baby. Their keeper blocked your shots, true, but you were getting all of your shots on goal. This was just the first game, you can prove yourself against Ireland next week.” 
What you didn’t know was that Reneé had planned to take her two days off between shows to fly to Dublin, and surprise you.
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reneerappupdates just posted
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reneerappupdates: Renee arriving at Dublin airport. Source: Reneé's story
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reneefan1: Does anyone know why she's in Dublin?
↳ lionessesfan: Maybe the England-Ireland match?
↳ awfcfan: @gooner4life this narrows it down to only a few players!
wosorenee: I need to know which footballer she's dating!
reneefan2: Wait, isn't her Dublin show in a few weeks?
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Reneé’s surprise visit meant the world to you, and you promised yourself that if you managed to score against Ireland tonight, you would dedicate the goal to her. Time and time again goal scoring opportunities were handed to you, but you didn’t seem to be able to hit the back of the net. You were getting frustrated, but you weren’t letting it affect your playing. Another 1-1 score wouldn’t be the worst, but you wanted to win this match to be amongst the top two of the group.
It was the 93rd minute when the ball found your feet again. This had to be it, it was the last moment of the match as the clock was ticking down the last minute of play. With one defender shrugged off, you looked up to see which teammate you could give the assist to, but they were all being guarded by Ireland’s defence. You had gotten yourself in a tight angle, but you had to take the shot yourself. With one look back at your teammates, hoping to trick the goalkeeper into thinking you were going for the assist, you kicked the ball in the direction of the goal. You watched as the goalkeeper jumped to keep it from going in, but it was just out of their reach. The English side of the crowd erupted in cheers, as your teammates ran in to hug you. 
While you were being congratulated by your teammates you looked into the crowd to find your girlfriend. When your eyes locked on her’s, she was looking back at you with pride as she was cheering along with the crowd. 
Ireland got to kick off one last time, but after one pass the final whistle blew. While you were celebrating the win with the team, you felt the pull to celebrate with your girlfriend. You found her eyes again in question, with a nod of her head, you climbed into the stands, ignoring the chaos around you from the fans. 
When you made it to her, you knew that there would be camera’s on you, but you didn’t care. You wanted to celebrate with your girlfriend, so you did. She wrapped her arms around you and held you tight. “You played so well, baby. That goal was incredible.” You smile into the crook of her neck. “That was for you.”
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Celeb News just posted an article
Reneé Rapp and Y/n Y/l/n hint at romance
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Celeb News: After fans of popstar Reneé Rapp and star striker for Arsenal and England Y/n Y/l/n noticed that the pair was constantly in the same country, the rumours started. Neither one of them ever commented on the rumours, and let the fans do their thing.
Let's take this back in time a bit. Rapp was pictured at Emirates Stadium first, making fans believe that she had to be dating one of the Arsenal girls. Then Y/l/n and a few of her teammates attended Rapp's show in London, confirming to the fans that Reneé showing up at the match had not just been a coincidence.
Fans finally got confirmation of the player that Rapp has been spending her time with, as Y/l/n ran into the crowd to hug Rapp after scoring the winning goal.
While neither Rapp nor Y/l/n have officially addressed the speculation, their public displays of affection have left little doubt in the minds of fans about the nature of their relationship.
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💗 If you enjoyed this fic, please consider liking, commenting, and reblogging! You can also supporting me by leaving a tip 💗
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avocad1s · 1 month
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About the Creator: Favoritism - 2
Requested by: Multiple anonymous users
CW: None?
Characters Included: Lyney, Arlecchino, Pantalone, Furina, Wriothesley, Neuvillette, Venti, Zhongli, Nahida
Note: Long time no see! Hope you all enjoy something lots of people requested in my absence! 🙏 Also this is written before Arlecchino’s release. So there may be some OOC Harbingers lol
Part One
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Arlecchino: “Their Grace has quite the sweet tooth. Naturally I don’t mind indulging them in the sweetest treats I can find. Spending time with Their Grace is not a privilege everyone enjoys… they constantly join my children and I for tea or just simple conversation… What’s with that look? Surely you don’t believe I would actually cause harm to them. No matter what you think of the Fatui, Her Majesty still reveres Their Grace. So naturally we would feel the same.”
Furina: “I always feared what Their Grace would think of me. I was pretending to be the Hydro Archon, I knew with just one look, they would know I wasn’t who I claimed. I thought I was ready to accept any form of punishment they deemed worthy. However when we first met, their benevolence really shined through. They really understood just how draining the past few decades were for me and even apologized for not being there…. Ehem! Anyways…! I actually have a tea party with Their Grace this afternoon! I must get the most exquisite confectioneries to suit their palate.”
Lyney: “So that’s what you wanted to ask! Well yes, there have been many times when Their Grace and I have been alone together.… and as the successor, I have to tend towards Their Grace in “Fathers” absence. Having any kind of relationship with them is very beneficial for the House of the Hearth, but them wanting to spend more time with me than with the Iudex or even Ms. Furina… well, I won’t complain one bit!”
Nahida: “My favorite thing to do with Their Grace is trading knowledge with them. Even with Irminsul, Their Grace knows bits of knowledge I’ve never heard before. They were here once before, back when all members of the Seven were still in contact with each other. I have no memory of that. So it’s only fair that I’m able to make memories of my own with Their Grace now right?”
Neuvillette: “Their Grace spends a lot of their time in Fontaine. As the Iudex and with no Archon ruling the nation, I have made it my personal responsibility to tend to their needs.… You are correct, Their Grace and I do spend quite a lot of time together, anytime I am free of my duties I always look forward to sharing a cup of water imported from Qiaoying Village and listening to whatever they wish to talk about.… Hm? No of course not. There is nothing I would deem as “too much work” when it comes to Their Grace.”
Pantalone: “There is no amount of mora I wouldn’t spend on Their Grace. No matter what they request, whether it be big or small, common or rare, I will always get it for them. Tell me Traveler, do you believe I am buying Their Grace’s attention? There are many people in Teyvat who have money, yet their gaze never leaves mine. It seems that obtaining a vision isn’t the only way to get favor from the Gods.”
Venti: “Hello there Traveler…! You were coming here to see Their Grace? Well, you just missed them! But worry not, I can sing you a song I just wrote about them! Oh…? You think that the Creator favors me? Well I’d rather it be me than any of the other Archons! All of Mondstadt believes that I’m just some bard who managed to capture Their Grace’s attention, but in reality I think I understand Their Grace better than anyone. Hehe…”
Wriothesley: “I never really expected to meet Their Eminence, but once they requested to enter the Fortress I made sure everything was in order for their arrival. Even now, they come down often just to share a cup of tea with Sigewinne and I. A lot of the prisoners believe that I have some sort of favoritism or that I take bribes from them… hm? Well I didn’t say it wasn’t true, but I didn’t think it was that obvious…”
Zhongli: “You wish to know about my relationship with Their Grace? As the eldest Archon, I take pride in having the strongest connection with them. Even now, when they return to Teyvat centuries later, it feels as if our connection has never changed. If they ever choose to settle in one of the nations, I would be honored if they chose Liyue. Everything I’ve done has been in their image, and being able to spend time with them as Zhongli rather than Morax is a privilege I will never take for granted.”
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My first post back just to see how it felt to write some of my favorite characters again. Anyway, I will be opening requests so feel free to send something in! :)
© avocad1s 2024
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ev3rgreenxtrees · 1 month
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Sir.Cuddlesworth
M.S
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Synopsis: Back at the triplets’ Boston house, you tend to cuddle with Trevor, the boys’ dog, more often than you do with your boyfriend Matt. So, you decide to be a sweetheart and led him your favorite shark stuffed animal, Sir.Cuddlesworth.
Pairing: Matt Sturniolo X Fem!reader
Warnings: None! just fluff <3
A/N: This was requested, but tumblr decided to be a bitch and delete the request, but here it is anyways! The req was “Trevor steals you from Matt” from anon! Thank you🤍
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“Trevor!” You squealed, looking from the couch, at the dog. The dog stopped in his tracks, before looking at you, his tail wagging.
You came to Boston with your boyfriend and his brothers. You had been friends with the boys for as long as you could remember, you were even so close, that you moved to L.A. with them. Nate was offered too, of course, but the boy decided he’d stay in his hometown. It was a regular thing that you’d come back to Massachusetts with the boys, to see your mutual best friend, Nate, the triplets parents, and of course your parents.
You had been dating Matt for the past two years, and everything was going perfectly. You couldn’t deny your feelings for the boy, nor could he deny his for you. You were understandably scared to start the relationship between you two, in fear if you ever broke up that it would ruin your friendship with him and his brothers, but that didn’t seem to be something you would have to worry about. You didn’t plan on breaking up with Matt anytime soon, and he felt the same way towards you,
“No, baby-“ Matt mumbled, his grip around your waist tightening, as you attempted to squirm out of his grasp to get to the dog. “Stay.” Matt firmly spoke, but he knew you wouldn’t listen regardless.
You finally got out of his grip, and you rushed to the floor, Trevor immediately running up to you. He ran into your lap, and Matt let out a pouty groan, as he flipped his body to face the couch, in attempts for you to feel bad for him. You, however, knowing the boy was doing this to be silly, decided to stay with Trevor.
“Hi, Trev! I missed you!” You cooed, and Matt let out another groan, louder than the last. “Matt, hush!” You demanded, and he huffed. You looked down at the dog in your lap, before standing up, holding Trevor in your arms. You made your way up the stairs of the house, as you went into Matt’s childhood bedroom.
You knelt down in front of your still packed suitcase, and pulled out a stuffed animal you brought with you everywhere, Mr.Cuddlesworth. The stuffed animal was a Great White Shark, a fuzzy material that was soft on your skin, the white on the belly turning a slight grey due to its old age.
You took the stuffed animal in your arms, before standing up and walking back downstairs, making sure Trevor was walking close behind you.
You made it back to the couch downstairs, seeing Matt exactly where you left him.
“Baby?” You called out, and he turned around, facing you. “Here.” You smiled, handing him your shark.
“Sir.Cuddlesworth? Whats this for?” He asked confused. You sat back down on the floor, and Trevor crawls back into your lap.
“Now we both have a cuddle buddy.” You smiled brightly.
“Awwwe! You’re so adorable,” Matt chuckled, placing a kiss on the top of your head, and you let out a small giggle. “Thanks for Sir.Cuddlesworth. I’m so grateful to be blessed upon him.” Matt holds the shark up next to him, inhaling your scent.
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『 ↳✧・゚ Finn yaps❕ ;
Yes, this was supposed to be a short :3 I wanted this one to be short and sweet. <3
˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱ I do NOT give permission for my work to be published on any other site, nor to be claimed as your own . However , reblogs , likes , and comments are much appreciated ! 🤍
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ @bernardenjoyer @lovely-calypso
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moonlinos · 3 months
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Invisible string (pt. III)
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♡ Pairing: Lee Minho × fem!reader
♡ Synopsis: After so many years of being closed off from the idea of love, you finally allow yourself to feel it freely with Minho.
♡ Genre: A ‘lite version’ of a soulmate AU, fluff, smut
♡ CW: Explicit sexual content (minors dni!), oral sex (female receiving), protected sex, swearing
♡ Word count: 16.4k
♡ A/N: A part of this chapter was almost shamelessly inspired by the song that inspired the plot in the first place, Invisible String by Taylor Swift. Also really inspired by my favorite Minho vlog, Lee Know Log 4 🩷
To those who have asked to be tagged in this story: would any of you be interested in being tagged in any new work I post later? Let me know! And thank you for reading and giving me such a great experience posting my writing here for the first time 🩷
← part II ♡ ⟳ part I
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You spend the entire flight home processing everything that had happened during the trip; from Minho’s words, to your kisses and touches, to you ultimately acknowledging your own romantic feelings for him. Although it all felt sudden, it had been a long time coming.
As his car stops at the front of your house, Minho steps out and walks with you, your backpack in hand.
“I know you’re scared. I understand that even more now that I know about your past relationships,” he speaks softly as the two of you stop at the front door, “And I want you to know that I’m gonna be patient.”
You nod slowly, although the desire to answer him is still so prevalent in your mind, the words lodged in your throat and yearning to spill out. But you’ve made the mistake of jumping into relationships far too often, always driven by your emotions, and every time, the outcome has been disastrous. You don’t want that to happen with Minho.
So, you settle on a question that has been eating away at you.
“Why do you like me, Minho?”
His face twists into a deep frown before ultimately softening. Carefully placing your backpack on the step leading to the front door, he sighs.
“You shouldn’t have to ask me that,” he assures you, his rough hands touching your shoulders before moving down your arms to entwine with your own. “You don’t even realize how fucking amazing you are, do you? I’d move mountains, fight anyone and do anything if it meant I’d have the privilege to see you smile.”
And, just like that, you feel your lips stretch out into a small smile at his words. He grins at you.
“Just like that. I’d do anything to see that,” he says. “And you take care of your friends simply because you love them, never asking for anything in return. You collect plushies like me, you appreciate the criminally underrated flavor of lemon cake, and you worked at the same convenience store as me, and spilled coffee all over my notebook on the day we met. That’s why I like you; because you’re you.”
Tears threaten to well up in your eyes, so you quickly avert your gaze, focusing on your shoes. With a nod, you wrap your arms around Minho, taking in his scent and reveling in the comforting warmth of his body. Little did he know, you were just as willing to do whatever it took to keep him near you. He plants a chaste kiss on your forehead as you break away from his embrace.
“I’ll call you later, okay? Thank you for the trip.”
 
As soon as you step inside your house, Eunha is quick to come running towards you, her hands dirty with flour as she abandons her unbaked cookies on the counter and pulls you into a hug.
“I missed you so much,” she whines, “How will I survive living without you next year?”
You chuckle, watching as her lips turn into a pout.
“I’m sure we’ll suffer equally, if that makes you feel better.”
She fakes a sob, turning on her heels and heading toward the kitchen.
“Oh, Hyunjin is in a crisis, apparently,” she tells you, wiping her hands on her apron. “He called me three times just today to ask if you were back already.”
You let out a sigh. Hyunjin was more often than not either glum or vexed due to his trials and mishaps in finding love. He once joked that you two would end up having to marry each other with how things were going. You dreaded his reaction to the news of Minho soon entering your life in a new way.
“The hotel’s Wi-Fi was a joke, but I honestly didn’t even think to check my phone,” you tell Eunha, who giggles as she cuts her cookies into heart shapes. “What? Why are you giggling like that?” You ask her with a grin, approaching the counter.
She shrugs. “Nothing. I didn’t even think to check my phone,” she playfully mimics your voice, looking up at you, “I’m guessing you had fun, then?”
“I did,” you beam, “It was everything I thought it would be and even more.”
She raises an eyebrow at you. “Even more?”
“Even more,” you reiterate. “I had so much fun with Minho. I forgot how good it feels to just let go and allow myself to feel what I want to feel.”
Eunha’s lips curl into a small smile. She hums, lowering her head in a feeble attempt at pretending to focus on the cookies in front of her. “And what did you want to feel this weekend?”
“Like maybe I can finally fall in love again.”
Your friend lifts her head, her eyes wide. “Love?” she exclaims, “You, the girl who has spent every day since I met you talking about how love isn’t important, is wanting to fall in love?”
You chuckle at her reaction, shrugging dismissively. “In my defense, I had my reasons. Plus, some things made me change my mind.”
“More like someone,” Eunha teases, and you roll your eyes at her, but a smile spreads on your lips unwittingly. “I’m happy for you,” she beams, “and I think you should definitely fall in love again — not maybe.”
You sprint across the small kitchen space, circling around the counter to wrap your arms around Eunha and squeezing her as she lightly pushes you away, warning you about flour getting all over your clothes, but you don’t mind.
Because you love her, as you’ve learned this past weekend, and you don’t mind the mess when it comes to someone you love.
It’s only as you enter your room that you check your phone, which is filled with notifications from Hyunjin, much like Eunha had said. After ten missed calls, it seems he resorted to simply texting you.
Hyune: hey I know you’re in japan but can you answer the phone? Hyune: I promise I’ll be quick. just wanna talk to you Hyune: hear your voice idk I feel really alone rn and really bad idk lol Hyune: mingyu has his girlfriend over. can you believe they’re still together? Hyune: can you believe he has a girlfriend and I can’t even find someone to give me the time of day lol Hyune: can you believe every date I go to ends with me crying lol Hyune: sorry I’m being annoying and the messages aren’t even being delivered, you’re clearly having fun sorry Hyune: sorry Hyune: guess that’s why nobody can endure me for more than two dates Hyune: have fun 🤍 I love you
You feel your heart ache as you read his messages, answering with an apology. But before you can hit send on your second message, Hyunjin has already replied. 
Hyune: it’s okay. I’m sorry I even sent those in the first place
Me: Stop apologizing Me: You know I love you and I’ll always be here for you Me: Where are you?
Hyune: at my dorm Hyune: staring at the ceiling
Me: I’m coming over
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True to his words, Hyunjin is lying on the floor of his dorm’s cramped living room once you open the door. There’s a small canvas propped up against the wall, a myriad of shades of blue forming the shape of a face. Your best friend’s talent never ceases to amaze you, and you have to fight the urge to stand still by the front door for a few seconds simply admiring his new painting.
“Look at this sulking Pisces,” you click your tongue as you approach Hyunjin, who only opens one eye to shoot you a glance.
“I’m in a fragile state and this is how you greet me,” he all but pouts before sitting up as you sit cross-legged beside him on the floor. “How was the trip?”
You shrug. “It was fun. We only had one day to explore the city, so we didn’t do much,” you say simply, tapping your fingers on your thigh.
You don’t want to sit and talk about how much fun you had during a trip when Hyunjin’s puffy, bloodshot eyes are staring directly at you. He was sad, and his sadness was palpable throughout the entire living room — his bitten lips, his painting, his hands covered in dried-up blue paint; everything was dripping in sadness. This was a constant with Hyunjin, but lately it had become even worse. He has an overwhelming desire to love and be loved, but his every attempt at fulfilling this desire is futile for reasons you cannot wrap your head around.
“I like the new painting,” you smile, focusing on the saddened blue face. Hyunjin scoffs beside you.
“It’s fucking terrible,” His hand shoves the canvas face down on the floor. You bite your lip. “Can’t even paint shit I like anymore. Every time I try, it always turns out muddy and sad.”
“What happened?”
He lets out a bitter chuckle. “Well I’m pathetic, so it’s still the same old reason. I had a date with this girl on Saturday, but she canceled at the last minute. Texted me something about me being too clingy after she agreed to go out with me, about how she knows she would feel suffocated if we dated.”
You furrow your brows together, anger bubbling up inside your chest. “What the fuck?”
“Oh, but don’t worry!” Hyunjin gave you a forced smile. “She made sure to remind me that it was her, not me, and that lots of women out there like guys like me. Whatever the fuck that means.”
Hyunjin shakes his head, turning his attention toward his hands before scratching some of the dried paint off. You sigh.
“Hyunjin, she isn’t wrong about that. You know that, right? You’re not the one at fault.”
He scoffs. “Sure seems like it when every date I’ve gone to since starting university has ended up with me being rejected for the same fucking reasons. It’s always me. Too clingy, too sentimental, too emotional,” his voice is almost a whisper as he speaks. He turns to face you again. “Remember how I would stop sleeping with you whenever I liked someone? Wanna know why I stopped doing that? ‘Cause I know it’s not gonna go anywhere anyway, so what’s the point? It never goes anywhere, and then I’m left alone again. Maybe I should just accept it, y’know? Some people are just meant to be alone, and clearly I’m one of them.”
Your anger has now morphed into sadness. You hate the way Hyunjin talks about himself, hate it even more how it seems nobody can appreciate the amazing person he is. Being caring and sentimental is not a flaw, and you pray that he never allows other people’s opinions to sway him into thinking that way. You pray he finds someone who can appreciate these qualities in him the same way you do.
“You’re not alone, Hyune,” you assure him, taking one of his hands in yours. “You’re surrounded by friends who love you so much, and while I know that’s not the type of love you yearn for, it’s still love.”
Hyunjin smiles softly at you before pulling you closer and pressing his lips to yours. It’s sudden but not entirely unexpected; the way you and Hyunjin dealt with shitty things in life and unpleasant feelings together had always been through sex, and you knew it always made him feel at least a little better afterward. And so you let him, returning the kiss even as part of you felt wrong doing it when your entire being was consumed with thoughts of only Minho.
As soon as he kisses you, he swiftly pushes you down onto the hardwood floor and hovers over you. Hyunjin’s fingers undo the buttons of your cardigan before slipping under your shirt, caressing your skin as his lips trail kisses down your neck. Soon enough, his body is pressed up against your spread thighs, and you know where this is going — but as much as you want to make your best friend feel better, you cannot bring yourself to do it.
“Hyune,” you softly call out, and he hums against your throat. “We can’t do this.”
He chuckles, squeezing your waist. “Mingyu always comes home late when he goes out with his girlfriend. Don’t worry.”
“It’s not that, Hyunjin. I just—”
“Do you not wanna fuck on the floor?” He asks, coming up to look at you. He cocks his head to the side. “We can just do it on the couch then, I really don’t wanna have sex with all those pictures of Mingyu and his friends staring at us in our room.”
“Hyunjin, no—”
“It’s not like we never did it on a couch before, stop being dramatic—”
“I’m in love with Minho.”
It comes out before you can fully comprehend what you’re saying, the word love slipping past your lips effortlessly. Hyunjin stills on top of you, his body rigid and tense. 
“Oh,” is all he offers you. You nod slowly, fingers picking at a drop of paint that stained the collar of his shirt.
You whisper, “I really am just as surprised as you are, believe me.”
Hyunjin shrugs. “I’m not surprised. I just— now you’re leaving me, too.”
You shake your head. It’s ludicrous to you that Hyunjin could imagine that you would ever even entertain the thought of leaving him. Running a hand through his messy hair, you pull him in and press a kiss to his nose. Hyunjin hides his face in the crook of your neck with a groan.
“Sorry, that was pathetic. I shouldn’t have said that,” he apologizes. “You know I don’t mean it like that. I just love you so much. I thought we would…”
You furrow your brows as he trails off his words. You thread your fingers through his long hair. “We would…?”
“End up together somehow,” he speaks slowly, his voice muffled, and your heart drops.
Hyunjin harboring these feelings about you was something you would never have imagined. You were certain he was content being your friend and having sex with you only until he found the right person. He went on several dates, after all. Your heart feels like it’s been shattered into a million tiny pieces upon learning about his hidden desire for the future he used to so often joke about: you two ending up together simply because you were each other’s only choices.
“Hyunjin,” you start carefully, “I love you, too. So much. You’re my best friend, and that’s never going to change. We don’t have to be together romantically for us to be in love, y’know? I realized that just recently.”
You feel him nod his head, his hand finding yours and intertwining your fingers.
“I’m just sad I won’t have you anymore. I’m gonna miss us so much,” he places a small kiss on your collarbone. “Whenever I felt like I was in a dark pit with no way out, every single time you were there to bring me out of it and make me feel okay again. I love you so much for that.”
And you can only softly smile at his words before your heart shatters all over again as you hear him quietly begin to sob in your skin.
“Hyunjin,” you call out, although you know he won’t reply. “You’re the most beautiful soul I’ve ever met. My love for you goes beyond us having sex — that wasn’t even important to me in our relationship. It was just something good on top of something already amazing.” With a slow nod, he lifts his head and gazes at you with red, teary eyes, causing your heart to ache even more. “I’ll never leave you. Ever. I’ll still answer your four hundred three a.m. texts, still let you hide away in my house, still happily listen to you complain about your days, and still hold you when you cry.”
Hyunjin pouts like a child, and your heart swells with fondness.
“Really?” He asks, and you chuckle with a nod.
“Really,” you assure him. “Me being with someone will never change our friendship, or my love for you. I mean, we won’t have sex anymore, of course, but I’ll still talk shit about your roommate with you so I’m sure you’ll forgive me.”
Hyunjin’s tearful expression vanishes, replaced by a small teasing grin. “I am gonna have to jerk off significantly more, so I don’t know about forgiveness,” he jokes.
You push him off you with a chuckle, sitting up as he tries to regain his balance.
“When did this whole thing with Minho even happen?” Hyunjin asks, setting his painting back against the wall. You shrug, buttoning up your cardigan. He hums. “So, are you already together?”
“Not yet,” you say, “but I’m gonna answer him after our class this week. If he fucking lets me, that is. He says he wants to be patient, but I don’t want to be patient. The only thing I wanna be is with him.”
Hyunjin’s whole body contorts as he groans. “Ew, what the fuck? When did you become such a sap?”
As you shove him back once more, you both burst into laughter while Hyunjin stumbles back and spills a mug filled with dirty paint water all over his floor.
The rest of the day goes by with you and Hyunjin painting together, a much broader array of colors and a much happier end result on the canvas: beautiful flowers painted by him standing alongside clumsily drawn hearts, stars, and other doodles painted by you. After signing your name above his elegant signature, you inform him the painting is leaving with you — it’s hanging up on your wall as soon as you arrive home.
Hyunjin is your best friend; it’s been this way for the last two years, and it’s indisputable to you that this fact will remain no matter what happens. As you watch him hunched over your painting, insisting that his flowers could be more detailed — even after you assured him a thousand times that they were perfect — you curse yourself for not realizing how beautiful this love between you two is. You hope he cherishes this love as well, in spite of his desire for the two of you to be together in the future. You know deep down this idea stemmed from his fear of solitude.
You’re not worried about him at all, though. He’s a precious soul, and anyone who fails to recognize that doesn’t deserve him. He’s simply getting rid of the wrong people in order to find the right person, someone who sees him as you do.
The love you feel for Hyunjin is unchanging, and if you had any say in it, it would be everlasting.
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Your next Japanese class with Minho comes too soon, and you find yourself unprepared. Every trace of resolve you had after returning from your trip dissipated bit by bit every time you saw or talked to him. As soon as you saw his figure step into the coffee shop on Monday to pick up his usual order, you realized that every single scenario your mind had conjured up fell flat. Minho was beautiful, amazing, breathtaking — he deserved something grand and earth-shattering, not a simple answer from a girl who wasn’t even half as good as he was.
It certainly did not help that he, always true to his words, respected your time. Not once during his coffee trips or your never-ending talks through the phone did he mention the topic. And it was slowly but surely driving you insane.
You bite your lips so much on your way to university you’re sure your lipstick is gone by the time you enter the building, and you’re surprised your poor bag isn’t riddled with holes in the cloth from your insistent picking. You shouldn’t feel this nervous — Minho is the one waiting for an answer, after all. For all he knows, you could be simply building up the courage to let him down gently. But you are nervous. You’re terrified he will listen to your clumsy words and decide he deserves someone better. Or, worse yet, will only realize how undeserving of his love you are once you’re in a relationship.
And you don’t think you can face another heartbreak where you’re left to mend your gashes all alone.
You enter the building with shaky hands, fiddling with the strap of your bag and walking toward your classroom on autopilot as your mind is too busy running over all the ways in which this could go wrong.
All faded, however, once you saw Minho waiting for you in front of your classroom. His glasses slid down the bridge of his nose as he looked down at his phone, his body wrapped in a cozy-looking black sweater and sweatpants, a keychain of a cat plushie hanging from his backpack matching his phone case. You stop a few feet away from him. He deserves the world, and that terrifies you. Still, his presence alone melts away every ugly word of doubt and every piece of worry inside your body until the only thing you can feel is the swirling of that familiar pinwheel spinning inside your chest.
You greet him with a long hug, hoping he can’t feel your heart beating through your own sweater.
After class, he walks you to work, enthusiastically telling you about the progress he, Chan and Seungmin have made on their game. You nod and hum along to his words, but you can’t, for the life of you, focus on a word he’s saying. All you want to do is tell him you like him — god, you like him so much — but every time you’re close to doing it, the ugly words return and scream that he deserves more than an underwhelming confession on a gloomy, empty street.
You stop walking as you two reach the bench located just far away enough from the hustle and bustle of students on campus, the one where no one bothered you when you sat here by yourself for three years, the one that had oddly become your favorite bench among all the other identical ones scattered throughout your university.
Because it was here that you and Minho had your first real conversation, it was here where you two laughed and gasped at all the little coincidences between your lives, and it was here where you began to build a friendship with this wonderful guy who would unknowingly change you for the better.
It was the perfect place, and you berated yourself for not realizing that sooner.
Minho’s voice calling out your name pulls you away from your thoughts, his hand wrapping around yours and pulling you gently toward his body. You hum before colliding against his chest as he chuckles.
“You just stopped walking,” he says, a lilt of confusion in his voice. “I know you hate work, but I didn’t think it was this serious.”
And when you properly turn to look at him, Minho is smiling so beautifully under the somber sky of winter, as if he is the embodiment of sunshine — always glistening and radiating such a comforting warmth no matter how glum the world around him is. And, at the sight of him, you just can’t stop your words. Never mind how gloomy this campus seems or how lackluster your words are — Minho’s presence alone makes everything become golden.
“I like you because you’re you,” you mirror his words at you, “Because you laughed in my face for spilling coffee all over your notebook when I didn’t even know you, because you love coffee just as much as I hate it, and because you believe in silly myths about riding paddle boats together,” You blurt out, words completely unbidden by your brain. Minho’s eyes widened for a beat before slowly turning into crescent moons as a smile spread across his lips. You take a deep breath before continuing, the words flowing out of you so quickly you’re worried he won’t be able to understand you, “And you opened my eyes to the love I feel for my friends, which I was so fucking stupid and blinded to. But, most importantly, you taught me that love isn’t bad. It can never be bad because you’re love, Minho. You’re full of love, and there’s not an ounce of anything bad in you. And you make me feel deserving of this love, even though I still don’t understand how I can be deserving of something so beautiful.”
Minho’s arms are pulling you into an embrace before you can process everything you said, and by the time you seem to come to your senses, you realize tears have welled up in your eyes. He holds you close to him silently for a while, his left hand delicately massaging your scalp as you clutch onto the fabric of his sweater as if he might be taken away from you if you let go.
“I like you, too,” he whispers against your hair, and you feel your lips contort into a pout.
“You already told me that,” you grumble. “I just word-vomited my feelings to you and this is all you have to say?”
He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your head. “What else is there to say? I like you so much I don’t think I can put it into words. I might just say something stupid if I talk about it too much.”
You furrow your brows, pulling away from his embrace to face him. “Something stupid like what?”
“Like saying I love you.”
Your lips part, but no words come out. Yet again, Minho has rendered you speechless. He shakes his head dismissively, a smile still etched onto his lips.
“No need to say anything. I told you it was stupid,” his eyes drift over to the bench beside you two, and his smile grows. “Guess this has to become my favorite bench too.”
You let out a laugh, but it’s cut short by your tears spilling out again. Minho quickly turns to look at you again, his expression shifting into a mixture of happiness and worry for you as he wipes your tears away with his thumbs.
And as the sun begins to set, the street lights flicker on, casting a warm, yellow glow over everything around you. You cup Minho’s face and press a chaste kiss to his lips, then to his nose, before wrapping your arms around him and pulling him into an embrace once again.
“I don’t think I’m ready to love you yet. I’m sorry,” you apologize, both to him and yourself.
Minho simply hums, kissing your cheek. “I told you I’m patient, because love is patient. I would wait an eternity for the privilege of hearing you say you love me.”
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You and Minho have officially been together for almost two months by the time winter break arrives. You’ve done everything couples do, except for two things: say I love you and go all the way. You’ve done every other possible thing — well, Minho has done every other possible thing to you, with you discovering that Minho particularly loves eating you out, often laying on your lap on your couch after work and rubbing his head against your thighs like a cat, humming and sighing until he has your attention before all but begging you to let him go down on you. Whenever you offer to do the same to him, in any way, he immediately turns the offer down, saying he’s satisfied just pleasuring you. It always leaves you with a million questions, as you notice him have to adjust himself in his pants or coincidently go to the bathroom, but you don’t question it.
The two of you also found ways to get around the whole L-word situation. I missed you becoming your go-to phrase for when you want to scream out that you love him, but are still unable to, while he usually just makes you swallow both your words and his own that are lingering inside your mouth with a kiss.
You had fallen into a routine quickly, with you visiting Minho most evenings after your shift to just lay on Chan’s stiff leather couch and watch him work. You two always hang out with his co-workers slash friends for a while before leaving for the night — Seungmin becoming like the pestering but loveable little brother you never had — and you head to your house in Minho’s car before you sneak him into your home so Mrs. Choi remains none the wiser.
Her ‘no boyfriends spending over two days at the house’ rule can’t possibly apply if she doesn’t even know Minho is there in the first place.
And so, he’s been basically living alongside you and your housemates. This outcome was almost inevitable since Minho hates his roommates while you love each other’s company.
You’re now packing your things with Hyunjin, who’s been sitting on your bed for the last half-hour rather than helping you as he’d promised. In the past month, he’s been able to come to terms with the fact that his ideal future with you was nothing but a coping mechanism after a month of sulking every time Minho was around. He deleted every shitty dating app on his phone and now focuses on finding love naturally, recently going out with a girl he met in one of his classes. The first time they met was the epitome of a meet-cute, with her accidentally bumping into him and spilling black paint all over his shirt. It brought back memories of when you first met Minho, and you had high hopes that this time things would work out differently for him. But, judging by the scowl on Hyunjin’s face and his nonstop complaining, you were wrong.
“But, be for real, why did it take her six dates to realize she doesn’t think we’ll work out?” He grumbles, spinning one of your necklaces around his finger like it’s a toy. “I paid for every meal, made sure she got at least two orgasms every time we went out, and she just suddenly decides we won’t work out? Fuck off.’’
You chuckle, closing your suitcase after triple-checking that you packed Minho’s Christmas present and walking over to where Hyunjin is sitting, snatching your necklace from his hand.
“Maybe she liked the free food and orgasms too much to let them go.”
Hyunjin scowls. “You’re saying that’s the only reason she went out with me?” He feigns offense, shaking his head. “I hope Minho’s parents hate your guts.”
“Hyunjin!” You exclaim, watching as he bursts out laughing. “Don’t even joke about that. You know how nervous I am.”
“There’s no way they won’t like you,” He assures you, “You’re fucking amazing, not to mention their son loves you. That’s more than enough reason to love you too.”
You clutch the necklace in your hand, humming before turning on your heels to check your drawers for anything you might have missed. Hyunjin using the word love makes you a bit anxious, an unwelcome reminder that you still haven’t been able to overcome this stupid emotional blockage preventing you from telling Minho you love him. The first and only time you’d ever said you loved Minho was that evening at Hyunjin’s dorm, and it hadn’t even been directed at him. Without saying a word, you both understand the love that exists between you — it’s unspoken, but deeply felt — and you’re aware of that, but the fear that one day he’ll grow tired of waiting is painfully tangible inside your mind.
When Minho invited you to spend Christmas with his family, you hesitated at first. Meeting your ex-boyfriends’ families had never been so significant. You were a teenager at the time, the implications were different and the stakes didn’t seem as high. This time, it feels as if getting Minho’s parents to like you is indispensable. How will he go on dating a woman his parents deem unfit for him? Especially with how highly he speaks of his mother, you’re sure her opinion of you will weigh on his mind.
You can only hope they love you half as much as you love their son.
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The car ride to Minho’s parents’ house was around half an hour.
Half an hour you spent picking at a loose thread on your skirt and overthinking so much your head ached by the time he parked the car. You hated how nervous you were, but Minho’s parents liking you was a non-negotiable. 
After insisting on carrying your own suitcase — just in case his parents might think you’re an overbearing girlfriend if they see Minho carrying your bag for you — the two of you walk up the stairs and into his home. The first thing you notice is how cozy-looking everything is; from the family pictures neatly placed on coffee tables and on the walls, cat furniture and toys mixed in with their actual furniture, down to the fuzzy blankets thrown over the couches.
The second thing that catches your attention is the quietude permeating throughout the house, as well as the fact that the first family member to greet you two is an orange cat.
“Oh, did you miss me this much?” Minho asks in a sweet, singsong voice, similar to how you would speak to a baby. He crouches down to pet the cat, who is now entangling himself between his legs. He introduces you by your name, because Soonie is truly just another family member to him. You chuckle, kneeling next to him and carefully extending your hand toward the orange ball of fur.
“Hello, Soonie,” you speak quietly, afraid you’ll spook him. He eyes you carefully before sniffing your fingers and, ultimately, rubbing his head on your hand. You sigh in relief, petting his fur with a smile.
Minho’s cats liking you was also a non-negotiable.
You place your suitcases in Minho’s childhood bedroom, his parents letting him know they will arrive a little late after going Christmas shopping. Looking around his small room, you smile at all the small things that scream Lee Minho. The pictures of him and his friends back in high school are the first thing you notice, glued to the wall in front of his door lopsided. His thick-rimmed glasses and bowl cut make you smile as you analyze one of the pictures, where he and four other boys hug and smile widely in a karaoke room. Then, of course, his extensive plushie collection sat against a wall to your left — all stacked on top of each other like a mountain — which he proudly shows off to you.
“Y’know, I had to basically fight a little girl at the Sanrio store for this one,” he says, a bit too smugly, while holding a plush of Kuromi dressed in a ladybug costume. “I was sixteen, though, so I think that excuses my behavior. I would never do that nowadays.”
You narrow your eyes, humming skeptically. “Sure you wouldn’t.”
Minho just chuckles, meticulously placing the doll back in its place beside the cherry on top of a rather large Pusheen pudding plushie.
“Oh! You have to see my books.” He takes your hand in his, dragging you toward the wall facing his bed. A bookshelf expanding from the floor to the ceiling makes your mouth drop. You hadn’t noticed it before, with it being hidden away in the corner of the room. The bookshelf is decorated with fairy lights — which Minho promptly switches on — and filled with beautiful books, from intricately designed hard covers to intricate sprayed edges, every single book in his collection has something special about it.
He uses a small metal ladder to reach the top of the shelves before handing you a book so thick your wrist almost bends upon grabbing it. It’s a collection of seven Jane Austen novels, all in a gorgeous blue and golden hardcover. You eye the book like it’s a precious jewel, carefully running your fingers over the details engraved on the cover. Beside you, Minho lets out a breathy laugh, stepping down from the ladder and bumping your shoulder lightly.
“You can open it,” he tells you, but you’re still too mesmerized by the book to look at him. “It’s what books are for, whether they’re pretty or not. You have to open it and read it, otherwise they lose their purpose.”
You nod slowly, but remain unmoving. Minho’s hand suddenly rests on top of yours, and he opens the book for you. The page is entirely annotated, with highlighters and thoughts jotted down on pencil in messy handwriting. Looking up at him, you are met by his smile.
“See? The book is fine, the world didn’t end. I have these special editions because I enjoy collecting pretty things, but I always read them,” he explains, “I like when books reflect the emotions I felt while reading them. I annotate, scribble, highlight — I once threw a special edition Stephen King book across the living room and into a wall. There’s an indentation on it till this day.”
You gasp. “Minho, what the fuck?”
He shrugs dismissively. “I know, I know. All book sins in the eyes of many people. But, like I said, that just reflects the emotions I felt while reading that book. I look through any of these pages and I know exactly what I felt at that time of my life.”
You nod, your lips absentmindedly curling into a smile. Minho truly is something else. You skim the page opened before you, reading some of his annotations and laughing quietly to yourself as he wraps his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder.
As you close the book, he speaks again, “They’re a bit like people, aren’t they? Pretty and put-together on the outside, but once you really dig in, it’s all a mess and cluster of feelings and passion.”
 
You and Minho spend an hour lounging around the living room, with you meeting his other two cats during that time. Soonie and Doongie’s adoration toward Minho is clear, with both orange cats always rubbing against his leg or tangling themselves in his sneakers by the door as you two cuddle on the couch. Dori, however, remains laid on his cat tree, barely sparing the two of you a glance. Minho jokes that Dori hates him after he left his first mom, even showing you further proof in the form of a video where the gray cat bites his nose while he sleeps.
Upon hearing the key turn on the front door, your heart is quick to jump. Minho’s parents have arrived.
Sitting up on the couch, you gently push Minho away from you. He shoots you a questioning look.
“What? I don’t want them to think we were doing something indecent.”
“Indecent?” Minho repeats with a chuckle. “We were cuddling, not consummating a marriage on this couch.”
You grumble incoherent words under your breath, shrugging. “I know. I just want them to like me.”
“They were more than okay with seeing me cuddle my ex when I was a teen. We’re both adults, I’m pretty sure they won’t think you’re a filthy harlot.”
You gasp, hitting his chest and hissing through your teeth. “A harlot?”
Minho lets out a long, hearty laugh just as his parents walk through the door.
“Oh, there you are!” You hear his mother’s voice call out as soon as she steps inside the living room. You turn to face her and you’re greeted by the same smile you see on Minho’s face every day — they look so similar you have to hold back a gasp. “It’s so nice to finally meet you!”
You stand up from the couch and smooth down your long skirt, smiling while she walks toward you. You’re caught off guard when she pulls you into a hug as soon as she’s in front of you, her arms squeezing you as she sighs happily into your hair.
“Mom,” Minho calls out, “You’re scaring her.”
His mom pulls away with a chuckle, her left hand pinching her son’s cheek before resting on your shoulder again. “He’s the one who’s scared I’ll embarrass him,” she refutes. “And, god, you’re so pretty! Minho told me you were beautiful, but I just assumed it was the infatuation speaking.”
You feel your cheeks flush at her words, biting back a smile. Minho had talked to his mother about you — had said you were beautiful. You swear if you died tonight, you would die a happy woman.
As his mother steps away from you and into the kitchen, rambling on about how crowded the shopping mall had been, a man comes into your field of vision. He nods courtly before extending his hand, which you shake a bit awkwardly.
“I’m Minho’s dad,” he simply says. “It’s nice to finally meet you. Minho has been very happy on the phone since meeting you.”
And with that, he’s off into the kitchen, following his wife. You’re left a bit dazed. Minho truly was a perfect blend of his mother’s appearance and his father’s calm personality. 
Beside you, Minho pulls you into a side hug, his chilly hands caressing your arms. “See? It’s impossible not to love you.”
You freeze for a moment, before relaxing as you realize he’s talking about his parents loving you. You curse yourself inwardly for being so damn emotionally constipated, but let out a sigh of relief nonetheless.
You were worried for so many different reasons — that you wouldn’t measure up to Minho’s first girlfriend, that your personality would be scrutinized until your flaws finally emerged, and that this would be the catalyst for Minho to realize you’re not worth it. Not worth waiting until you can tell him you love him, not worth waiting until you feel like sex isn’t going to just ruin everything between you, not worth the hassle and the chore that is loving someone like you.
But as he walks into the kitchen with you, his arm wrapped firmly around your waist, like he’s proud to show you off to his parents, the level of reliability he radiates is enough to melt away all the annoying little worries you had inside your head.
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Christmas eve comes two days later, and you’re rudely woken up in the morning by the sound of Minho’s voice cursing under his breath as he drops something on the floor by his bed. You groan, rubbing your eyes, and he turns to face you with an apologetic look on his face.
“Sorry,” he whispers, kneeling down next to the bed and pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead. “Good morning.”
“What time is it?”
“Eight, I think.” His fingers brush your hair away from your face. “I didn’t set an alarm ‘cause I didn’t wanna wake you up, but guess my inability to be quiet did that anyway.”
You chuckle lightly, scrunching up your nose. “Why are you up so early?”
“Gotta start cooking dinner soon,” he explains.
“Already?” You ask, perplexed. You knew he cooked Christmas dinner all by himself every year for his family, but you never conceived just how much work that would be for a single person.
Minho is unyielding despite your best efforts at persuading him to stay and cuddle you for a few more hours, and watching him cook is always oddly attractive to you, so you find yourself joining him in the kitchen, wrapped up in one of his many cat print sweaters.
At first, you simply sit up at one of the counters and watch him, mesmerized and all but drooling at the way he rolls up his sleeves, the prominent veins making his arms look so sexy while doing such a mundane thing like chopping fucking vegetables. Not to mention his hands, so beautiful and big as he rubs the seasoning on something you don’t even care to identify because you’re just too busy thinking about those hands all over your body. Only now do you notice how no real sex for almost two months has really taken a toll on you, what with the way you have to cross your legs just to try and relieve some tension because your mind won’t stop thinking about Minho’s veiny arms caging you against this counter and his big hands—
Minho calls out your name, and you snap out of your fantasies, humming as you reluctantly turn your attention toward his face with a dazed expression. He seems to find it funny, as he chuckles before repeating himself, “I asked if you would like to help. I can teach you some of the easy stuff. Must be boring just sitting there and watching.”
Oh, but it isn’t boring at all.
But you’d never tell him that, so you nod before hopping off the counter and awaiting further instructions. Turns out you’re worse at cooking than you had thought, so you’re relegated to chopping duty, which you hate for two reasons — firstly, chopping vegetables is boring, and secondly, you’re now deprived of your view of Minho as you stand with your back turned to him while he cooks.
It’s around five p.m. when Minho’s mom joins you two in the kitchen, and by that time you’ve done all you could, so you’re back to your spot on the counter. She smiles at you before ruffling Minho’s hair as he closes the oven.
“My baby is such a wonderful cook, isn’t he?” she praises, and he shrugs with a smirk.
“I am very boyfriend material, aren’t I?”
You chuckle as you watch his mom carefully fixing his hair which she had messed up, Minho scrunching up his face as she then fixes his wire-frame glasses on his nose.
“I’m so glad you’re wearing your glasses again,” she comments, cupping his cheeks and squeezing before letting go. “You look so handsome.”
“You should thank her,” Minho smiles, turning to look at you, and you shoot him a puzzling look. “Remember on your birthday, when you told me I looked good wearing glasses?” He asks, and you nod slowly. “That’s why I stopped wearing contacts.”
Your mouth opens, but you can’t find the words to answer him. You can feel your cheeks dusting pink as his mom coos at the two of you, saying something about young love that has you gnawing on your lips to hold back the silly smile you want to let out.
Minho’s mom leaves the kitchen shortly after, his father calling her from the living room. He takes this as his chance to approach where you’re sitting, hands resting on your thighs before he presses his lips against yours.
“I wanted to look handsome for you. It’s kinda pathetic, isn’t it?” He chuckles against your lips, and you simply shake your head, tangling your fingers in his black hair that has now grown past his eyes.
“It’s actually fucking adorable,” you assure him, pulling him into another kiss, one much deeper than the last.
He quickly uses his hands to spread your thighs apart, pressing his body into yours as you wrap your legs around his waist. The effect this man has on you is mindboggling; the mere slide of his tongue against your lips has you shivering. It certainly doesn’t help that you are now in the exact position from your imagination earlier today.
Minho always tasted like your own personal favorite flavor, always deliciously swirling on your tongue whenever you kissed him. He always renders your mind fuzzy and silly as bliss consumes the entirety of your being. You can only imagine how sex with him will feel like, and you don’t think you can wait any longer. Your worries be damned. You needed him more than you could handle.
But just as Minho pulls you closer to his body — your core dangerously close to his crotch, and sucking on your tongue in a way that has you mewling against his lips — his mother calls out your names, and you two quickly separate, startled as if you were burned. She informs you his grandmother has arrived and you two walk to the living room to greet her. You silently thank the universe for her not walking into the kitchen; the last thing you want is for Minho’s poor grandmother to catch you two making out on the counter like two teenagers.
She is a sweet lady, certainly not as old as you expected her to be, and she always has a smile etched onto her lips stained with red lipstick. You don’t even have to ask to know she is his mother’s mom, as the three of them share the exact same smile you grew to love so much.
You find yourself even more comfortable today, as you help both women set up the table for dinner — his grandma meticulously placing a beautiful lace cloth over the table while telling you about how this was one of her late husband’s first gifts to her when they first moved in together. 
It felt as if you were part of the family.
And as you turn on your heels to grab the fancy silverware from a cabinet, your eyes meet Minho’s gaze. With a smile on his face, he stands by the kitchen door, watching you, and your heart swells with joy.
This was everything you never thought love could be.
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Christmas dinner was amazing — as you knew it would be. Minho’s cooking is always fantastic, and pure happiness is written all over his face whenever he was complimented. The way he offers to serve everyone, watching intently as each of you took the first bite before he finally allowed himself to eat as well, his lips upturned into a grin and his ears red as you all hummed and gasped at how tasty everything was. It’s his love language; from the way he carefully and methodically prepares the food, to the way he enjoys watching other people eat more than eating himself. He shows his love through his cooking, you realize, and you smile as you think back to numerous times you woke up in the morning with a beautiful table set with breakfast for you after he spent the night at your house.
You haven’t put it into words yet, but he has unquestionably been showing his love for you through his little actions.
And that’s what you want to do tonight as well.
After watching a cliche Christmas movie with his family, you two are now the only ones awake with you drying off the dishes Minho’s washing. He looks beautiful even now, with his hands clad in neon green dishwashing gloves.
“Minho,” you call out, poking his rib with the plate he just handed you. He squirms with a giggle, warning you to not tickle him. You simply hum, continuing as nonchalantly as you can. “Do you wanna have sex tonight?”
His hand stills, dropping a knife on the sink as his head turns abruptly to look at you, eyes bewildered. “What? What, and you ask me this now? While we’re doing the dishes?” He sputters, and you grin with a shrug.
“It’s not a big deal,” you say, placing the plate on top of the counter. “I just… really wanna do it. Really want you.”
Minho turns off the tap — at least five knives left ignored at the bottom of the sink — removes his gloves and lets out a heavy sigh.
“Okay, not what I expected to happen on Christmas night, but I’ll take it.”
You both stare at each other for a beat, before inexplicably bursting out laughing. Maybe it’s the sheer suddenness of your request, or the absurdity of the situation you were in when it happened, but you can’t help it.
As you both calm down, Minho pulls you into his arms and informs you that he will have to go out and buy condoms, since he truly wasn’t expecting anything to happen. You don’t fault him, the two months you’ve been together were filled with you all but running away from sex. You couldn’t help it, your brain always dragging you back to that night in Japan, and the way he avoided your gaze in the morning. Although you knew it was irrational, and that he was simply shy, your self-sabotaging skills were too great, and your mind insisted that if you had sex with Minho too soon he would think you were nothing but a slut. That’s what you were told most of your life, anyway, so you couldn’t be blamed for the way your brain was almost conditioned into assuming the same.
But Minho had proved time and time again that he was not like the awful guys before him, and that all your worrying was unwarranted and foolish. You were depriving yourself of something you wanted badly out of sheer insecurity and attachment to experiences so far in the past it was almost masochistic at this point.
You insist on joining him on his impromptu trip to the convenience store, only throwing one of his sweaters over the dress and tights you wore for Christmas dinner.
Minho holds your hand as you two walk down the empty street, Christmas lights from the houses and stores making everything seem almost like a movie. You spot the familiar logo from across the street, and Minho bumps his shoulder with you while you head toward the convenience store chain where you both once worked.
“This is actually the exact one I used to work at,” He tells you as you look through a fridge hidden away in the back of the store. “I loved working the graveyard shift. I rang up so many couples awkwardly buying condoms like they were buying hard drugs.”
You chuckle, settling for some pudding you two could share later. “Will that be us tonight?”
He shrugs. “We’re adults, it’s normal to buy these things. Unless you want me to act like I’m buying crack cocaine, then I’d be happy to indulge you.”
You stick your tongue out at him with a light shove, turning to look through the rather lacking options on the condom shelf.
“Grape flavor?” Minho makes a face as he eyes one of the boxes. “Who the fuck would want the artificial taste of grapes when fucking?”
You shrug. “Could be worse, imagine banana-flavored condoms. I think I’d throw up all over your dick.”
“That’s sexy,” He jokes, and you let out a loud chuckle, earning you a look from the only other person at the store this time of night on Christmas eve.
Among your other options are a green glow-in-the-dark condom — which would only make you think of Shrek while Minho fucks you — and a strawberry-flavored one. You decide to play it safe, grabbing a box of plain, thin condoms and placing them in the basket Minho’s carrying.
“Let’s just go for the safest option,” you tell him, “We’ll have plenty of time to play around later if you want, though I’ll go on birth control once we’re back home so we won’t even need them anyway.”
You watch as Minho’s eyes widen for a second, his eyebrows shooting up almost comically.
“Sure, yeah.”
“Don’t short-circuit now. I need you functioning to fuck me.”
“Keep saying shit like that and I’ll be broken before we even make it back to my house,” he states matter-of-factly, and you chuckle, shaking your head at his words. But Minho’s expression remains unchanged. “I mean it. It’s been over a year since I’ve had proper sex. I’m surprised I didn’t combust the second you said those words to me in the kitchen.”
With a chuckle, you pull him to your side and walk toward the cashier. It’s a poor teenage boy, no older than eighteen, clearly bored out of his mind and wishing to be anywhere but here. As he rings up your items, Minho points to his phone that’s resting on the counter.
“That’s Ahri from League of Legends, right?” He asks, and the boy looks up, his eyes sparking with interest. He nods. “I don’t play, but I’m a game programmer, so I know a little bit about it. What’s your rank?”
“Grandmaster,” the boy answers proudly, his face lighting up with a hint of joy, probably for the first time since his shift started.
“Oohh,” Minho gasps loudly, basically hyping up this random boy at the convenience store. You watch the interaction with a silly smile on your face. “And you’re still young, wouldn’t be surprised to see you at World’s someday.”
The boy shakes his head dismissively as Minho hands him his card, but smiles nonetheless. Once he hands you your things, he speaks again, “Are you from around here, hyung? Let me know when you have a game out, I’d love to try it. See if you’re any good.”
Minho raises his brows at the obvious teasing lilt in his voice, lips upturning into a grin. “How about this? I’ll give you the beta code and you can start your career of testing games for money.”
“You’ll pay me?” The cashier marvels at the words, and Minho simply nods. He jots down a code from his phone into a scrap piece of paper on the counter, the boy’s face now a complete shift from the expression he wore when you first walked in, all because of Minho and his ability to be kind and sweet no matter the person or circumstance.
As you head back to his house, only the two of walk along the shy streets as the clock hands turn past midnight. Among all the bad people in this world, you’re indescribably happy that a man as good as him is the one walking beside you down this street, firmly holding your hand.
You arrive home and quietly head straight into Minho’s room. You thank any higher power that might exist for the fact that his room is the only one on the first floor, as you would have to endure your desperate need and desire for him until you got home if it wasn’t. Any of Minho’s family members walking in or hearing you two have sex would make you want to flee the country and change your name.
He joins you after storing your puddings in the fridge, making you jump with his arms wrapped around your waist while you were blankly staring at the pictures on his wall. You sigh, the realization of what was going to happen only really dawning on you now that you stand in Minho’s bedroom, and your mind starts to wander and doubt everything all over again.
“I kind of ruined the mood by asking to have sex, didn’t I?” You ask as Minho places a chaste kiss on your cheek before resting his chin on your shoulder.
“There was really no mood in the first place,” he lets out a breathy chuckle. “We were washing the dishes.”
You roll your eyes, once again more annoyed at yourself than at him. You could only hope that your awful propensity of bringing up these irritating thoughts of yours at the worst possible moments didn’t drive Minho away from you. Could only hope you were worth it in the end.
“I know, it’s just…” You trail off with another heavy sigh. “This guy I dated hated that. Said I should just initiate it instead of asking like it was a business transaction.”
You feel Minho shake his head. “That’s stupid. Why would I think that?” He sounds incredulous, and hearing him say it makes you realize just how asinine that thought really was. “We had to buy condoms, anyway. It’s also good that you’re comfortable asking me that. It’s as it should be.”
And you can only smile, biting back a giggle because of course he thinks that. It’s as if Jane Austen came back from the dead simply to write Lee Minho.
His arms tighten around your waist, and you turn your head to look at him. “You should really stop thinking about… them,” He hesitates, “Your exes, I mean. Stop comparing, assuming everything will be the same and have the same sad ending. You need to let go of that in order to truly heal. I hate how every time I’m good to you, or do the bare fucking minimum, your mind spins it into something being your fault. I hate what they did to you so much.”
You feel your breath get caught in your throat, tears threatening to spill much like they do every time you are faced with this topic. But you hold them in. You don’t want to cry, not right now, not when everything is so perfect with Minho. So, instead, you take in his words. He’s undoubtedly right, and you must force yourself to face this uncomfortable truth.
Slowly, you promise yourself. You smile at him, a silent promise to him, and you know he understands you when he smiles back, his lips pressing a kiss to your lips.
He lets go of you and rummages through his drawers, and you look around once more. His plushie mountain, the pictures of his childhood and high school days. You scrunch up your nose.
“Will it be too weird to have sex in your childhood bedroom?”
From where you’re standing, his back turned to you, you can faintly make out the tip of his ears turning red as he runs a finger through his hair.
“Well, not really…” He trails off, “I had sex with my ex-girlfriend here all the time when we skipped school together.”
You let out a gasp. “Lee Minho skipped school?”
He chuckles, closing his drawers and immediately wrapping his arms around you. He’s a lot more touchy since you brought this whole topic up, you notice.
“My parents were always at work, though, so this is my first time doing it while they’re right upstairs,” He explains, bringing his finger up to your lips and lowering his voice to a harsh whisper. “So we’ll have to be quiet.”
You roll your eyes with a smile, nodding. You know all too well you’ll probably be too quiet. Once again your trauma playing a part in this, the words an old boyfriend harshly spilled about you being too loud and vocal have always been present in your head. Now that you think about it, all these moments and words are like post-it notes stuck to your mind, and you skim through like a student cramming for an exam every day in search of one that applies to your current situation. It was excruciating.
Hyunjin tried his best to change this about you, always assuring you he liked to hear you during sex when he noticed your pursed and bitten lips, and that you should be vocal about what you want and like. But you always settled for nods and quiet hums instead.
Minho presses a quick kiss on your forehead then. “I’m gonna shower ‘cause my hands still smell like onions and garlic after washing them a thousand times,” he tells you. “I’ll be right back.”
As you’re busying yourself looking through Minho’s extensive collection of books, a meow pulls your attention toward the door. It’s Dori, the gray cat you’ve decided is your favorite since it’s the only one you can easily recognize. He stares for a beat before approaching you, and you kneel carefully to stroke his soft fur. You soon find yourself sitting down by the bed with Dori on your lap, purring away as your mind travels to a future in which you and Minho adopt cats of your own, all while living together and making plans for the rest of your lives. It terrifies you slightly to allow yourself to have these thoughts because if things were to go wrong with Minho, this would only be another ‘what if’ that would haunt you.
Another post-it note to your already cluttered-up mind.
But his words from earlier come back to you just as you begin to panic. You have to let go of the past and stop assuming only the worst outcomes are attainable. And so you simply smile at the imagination, letting your mind run wild while Dori falls asleep on your lap, his gray fur all over your red dress.
You and Dori both jump as Minho all but slams the door when he returns, a towel in his hand drying his damp hair. He cringes at the sound, cursing under his breath. Dori leaves your lap, and you stand up with a pout. He definitely is your favorite cat among the three.
“Sorry,” Minho whispers, as if that will compensate for the loud noise. You take in his appearance; a green Christmas sweater and bright red sweatpants. You bite back a smile, because that’s so him.
“Your outfit is doing a great job of seducing me,” you jest, and he shrugs with a cocky grin.
“I know no woman can resist a Christmas sweater.”
He pulls you into him with a hand around your waist, his lips crashing into yours in a deep kiss. You notice he’s more frantic, less careful than he usually is, his fingers digging into the fabric of your dress as his hands slide up your back. He pulls away, breathless and flushed, and just looks at you for a moment. You can see the shift in his eyes, yearning swimming all over his brown orbs.
Clumsily, he shuts off the lights behind him then switches on the fairy lights adorning his bookshelf, his left hand still firmly clutching your body. Until it suddenly loosens, and you cock your head to the side.
“Okay, you gotta leave,” he says, and you follow his gaze, landing on Dori, who stares up at him almost defiantly. Minho lets out a sigh, opening his door before walking toward the cat and motioning toward the exit as if he will understand him. “Come on, I’ll give you treats later, hm? But you need to leave now, Dori.”
You fail to hold back a chuckle. “Why does the poor baby have to leave? He looks so comfortable snuggled up on the floor.”
“I can’t have sex while Dori watches,” he deadpans as if it were an obvious answer. “It’ll be weird.”
“Minho, it’s a cat. He doesn’t know what’s going on.”
“It’s still weird! And I…” He trails off, running a hand through his hair. He’s still facing the door when he blurts out, “I told you, I’m already really fucking nervous ‘cause it’s been a while since I’ve had sex. I might not be the best.”
You shake your head with a smile, crossing your arms over your chest. “Minho, that’s not possible.”
“Yes, it is!” He finally turns to face you. “Remember back in Japan? I came too fast, it was embarrassing. That’s why I never let you touch me.”
You jokingly pout at him. “Thought you just liked eating me out.”
“I fucking love eating you out, but I’m not exactly refusing that you do the same because I want to,” he explains, “I’m just scared I’ll be bad at it.”
You furrow your brows. “Bad at… getting a blowjob?”
Minho’s ears are dusted a light pink, and he throws his hands up. “Well, yes! Back in Japan I didn’t even know what to do with my hands. I don’t know what you like, and I haven’t been with anyone else to know what most people like so…” He lets out an exasperated sigh. “Fuck, I was so nervous that night, you have no idea.”
“You were nervous?” You let out a huff, recalling Minho’s clear shift in demeanor that night. “Looking into my eyes the entire time and pinning me down to the bed, that’s you being nervous?”
His entire face now flushes red, and he returns his gaze toward the door, where Dori paddles out of the room graciously. He promptly shuts the door, locking it this time.
“I was nervous,” He tells you, taking a step toward you. “I kept looking at you ‘cause I couldn’t believe that was actually happening. Felt like you were gonna disappear if I looked away,” His hands cup your face gently, and your lips unknowingly curl into a smile. “And when you looked at me in the morning, all I could think about was how awful I was the night before.”
You have to fight the strong urge to laugh because god, that’s why he was acting shy and avoiding your gaze. You berate yourself for even thinking otherwise, for ever assuming Minho could be like your ex-boyfriends. His words ring even more true than before.
You let out a groan, realizing you two have been putting off having sex for such mindless reasons. When he shoots you a questioning gaze, you simply say, “Minho, we’re both fucking idiots, d’you know that?”
And before he can say anything else or even entertain the idea of overthinking any more, you pull him into a kiss. With a surprised hum, Minho gently pushes you back, and your knees meet the softness of the mattress causing you to fall back into his bed. He climbs on top of you, pulling away from the kiss.
“You still gotta tell me what you like,” he repeats, his lips all but pouting at you. You smile up at him.
“No,” you say simply, pushing his hair back with your fingers as it fell into his eyes. “It’s better if we figure that out together, isn’t it?”
Minho chuckles, promptly pressing his lips to yours, your hand tugging at his hair gently as his tongue glides across your lips, causing a soft whine to slip from your throat before you can stop it.
“I like that,” he says between kisses, “When you make these pretty noises.”
You feel your cheeks heat up at his words and take that as your chance to take the first small step in healing, adding a post-it to your mind, reminding you not to suppress any noise that Minho coaxes out of you tonight.
The atmosphere in his room feels perfect — like heaven, as he would say. The soft yellow glow emanating from his bookshelf made everything seem dreamy; his honey skin looked stunning, and his eyes gleamed like the stars in the sky every time they met yours.
It was undoubtedly so much more intimate and passionate than any other time you had sex before, and you were both still fully clothed.
It was just like what Minho had told you many months ago.
His hands travel through your body until they rest on your back, finding the buttons of your dress, slowly opening each one as his lips trail down your neck, softly sucking on the skin. As he gingerly slides your dress down your torso, you realize that this will be the first time you two see each other naked. Yet, you don’t feel nervous. You want nothing more than to be close to him, with no barriers between you, to finally be tangled with him like the roots on the ground.
Minho unclasps your bra, his gaze unmoving from your chest as he slips the garment off of your skin and drops it on the floor. It’s almost as if you can feel his gaze burning you, your chest tightening and your breath hitching in your throat. He licks his lips, leaning down to wrap them around your nipple, his hand promptly finding your other breast and softly massaging it. You let out a choked gasp, tugging at his hair.
You feel his lips stretch into a smile before he softly bites the bud.
“So you like this,” He mumbles, pressing a wet kiss to your nipple. “Duly noted.”
You giggle at his words, your hands tangling in his hair once more. His kisses travel up again, from your chest to your neck, until he’s back to kissing your lips. Both of his hands now massage your breasts, alternating between rolling your nipples between his rough fingers and pinching them lightly, causing a rush to spread across your entire body. You feel your arousal trickle down your slit as you grow more desperate.
“Minho,” you call out between kisses, and he hums against your lips. “Do something,” you all but beg him, yearning for some release as you feel the small, unrelenting pulse between your thighs grow stronger with each stroke of his finger across your chest. Your hands now grasp at his sweater, tugging it over his head, the fabric also discarded somewhere on the floor of his room.
Your hands travel over the expanse of his chest, fingertips taking in every inch of his soft skin. Breaking away from his lips, you push him back softly so you can revel in the sight of him; his delicate collar bones, his strong arms, and soft stomach. He’s beautiful, breathtakingly so, and you don’t know what you did to be deserving of him.
“Enjoying the view?” He jokes, and you breathe out a laugh, your gaze flying up toward his face — his lips swollen, and his cheeks flushed a pretty red.
“Minho, you’re so beautiful,” you whisper absentmindedly, and he smiles at you, softly pressing his lips to yours.
“You should see how you look,” he whispers.
His left hand soon slips underneath your dress skirt, fingertips grazing your skin over your tights. You feel goosebumps trickle along your thighs following his every touch, so eager to feel his hands on your skin you’re sure you’ll rip your tights in half yourself if Minho doesn’t get rid of them soon.
He seems to grow as impatient as you, lifting your hips with a strong grip to slide down your dress, tights, and panties off of you all in one go. In no time, you are now laid bare before him, and Minho is swift to trail kisses down your stomach, sloppy and messy, painting your skin with his saliva as his mouth waters at the mere prospect of tasting you.
With a heavy sigh, he stares at your glistening wetness before promptly wrapping his lips around your clit without a warning and sucking, ardently, vulgar sounds filling his small room much like they do every time he eats you out. Always messy, always eager, humming against your pussy and sighing as his eyes glaze over with pure want.
You squirm like lighting has shocked through your entire body. No matter how often you experience the satisfaction of Minho’s lips on you, it always leaves you trembling like it’s the first time. His right hand slides up the expanse of your stomach until it reaches your breast again, his thumb lazily circling your nipple. You purse your lips as his fingers tentatively trail across your folds, spreading your wetness up to your clit before lapping at it slowly, the small bud swollen and aching.
You’re quick to remember to open your mouth, letting out the heavy sigh that had stuck to your throat as his finger enters you, Minho still licking and sucking your sensitive clit, nipping harshly and making your sigh fade into a whine. Hand tangling in his hair and tugging, you elicit a low groan from his throat, which you feel reverberate through your slick folds.
Your thighs shake as he adds a second finger, and soon a third, thrusting them inside of you and stroking your walls more vigorously than he usually does, as if he somehow also feels your pleasure and needs to lead you to your high as quickly as possible.
Minho’s hand leaves your chest, and you bite back a pout, his fingers now gripping your hips before pushing them up so he can reach deeper. It isn’t long before his fingers drag across the spot inside of you that has your muscles tensing up, a strangled moan falling from your lips at the sensations coupled with the unrelenting feeling of his tongue on your clit. You come undone around his fingers and lips with a harsh tug of his black hair, rutting your hips against his face desperately, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips as you do.
He laps up your juices as you slowly come down from your high, tongue flicking inside of you and sucking hard before he presses a long kiss to your cunt. Your entire body jerks in response to the overstimulation.
His kisses travel toward your inner thigh, your lower stomach and breasts until he reaches your neck, where his teeth nip at the soft skin, sucking harshly before his tongue soothingly licks at the spot. As Minho positions himself between your thighs again, you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. Your mind goes hazy for a beat as you feel the thick outline of his cock press against your bare core.
“Minho,” you call out again, your voice significantly more whiny this time around, shaky and breathless, “Wanna taste you.”
He groans against your skin, pressing small kisses up your neck until he ultimately stops against your open lips. He breathes out a heavy sigh.
“Really want that, too,” he rasps out, voice hoarse as his dark eyes travel across your face. “But I really wanna fuck you. Shit, I need to fuck you so badly you have no idea,” He groans. You feel his length jump at his words as he presses your foreheads together and locks his gaze with you. “That’ll be hard to do if your pretty lips go anywhere near my cock.”
You breathe out a chuckle, pressing a small kiss to his lips. “Then get to it,” you simply say.
Minho’s lips curl into a grin. “Will you remember to be quiet for me this time? My baby sounded so pretty coming around my fingers.”
Your cheeks flush, just how loud you were before only now dawning on you. Fuck. Your words get stuck to your throat, your mouth opening but making no sound, so you settle for a nod.
He chuckles. “Good,” he replies with a kiss to your agape lips.
Minho sits up, detangling himself from your body briefly. He reaches for the box on his bedside table, scrambling with the cardboard before clumsily tearing it open and retrieving a condom. It’s only then you notice how his hands are trembling, from nervousness or pure lust. Either way, you find yourself smiling at the sight.
You reach out to run a hand along his arm soothingly, watching with hungry eyes as he tugs at his drawstrings before freeing his cock from the confines of his sweatpants. Minho hisses as he rolls the rubber over his length, shaky hands stroking himself one, two, three times, all while you eye him, watching greedily as if you were his own personal captive audience.
He lowers himself once again, hand now sliding across the length of your thigh before gripping the flesh, nails digging into your skin as he eyes you with an almost pleading gaze.
“Can I—”
“Please do,” you answer, almost frantically, before he even has the time to assume you might say no. You inch your thighs apart even more so Minho can slot himself perfectly between them.
Your mouth waters as you catch sight of him gripping his cock once more, tapping it against your swollen clit and eliciting a whine from your lips as your hands scramble to find purchase in his strong arms. Minho’s eyes then find yours much like they did back in Japan, and you know you are done for. His dark gaze once again felt all-consuming — desire and adoration swimming along his brown eyes, looking at you as if he were in a daze. Your grip on his arms tightens as he lazily slides his cock up and down your soaked slit, coating himself in your arousal. Minho’s lips fall open as he continues his movements, the blunt head of his cock gliding along your folds almost painfully slow.
He leans in to close the small gap between your lips, before whispering something you can’t quite understand against them.
“I fucking love you,” he repeats himself more clearly, and finally pushes forward, his girth pushing into you as you gasp, feeling as if all the air has been stolen from you.
You aren’t sure if your reaction is due to his words, or the way his cock is working you open so good, or maybe it was a delicious blend of the two. All you know at the moment is Minho, Minho, Minho, your mind foggy as his name rings inside your head like a mantra.
“Don’t gotta say anything back,” he tells you in a breathy voice, “Just want you to know I love— Fuck,” he groans as he is now fully sheathed inside of you, and you clench at both the feeling and the words spilling from his lips. Of course he would choose now to tell you he loved you. “Love you so much, so much I’d do anything for you. Would wage a war with the world if you asked me to…” He babbles, words slipping past his lips like they were the easiest thing for him to say. Like he meant it so deeply, he didn’t have to put any thought into it. His words only die as he presses an open-mouthed kiss to your lips.
Minho pulls his hips back in one swift motion, hands lifting your thighs around his body as he thrusts into you, evoking a rather loud noise from the back of your throat which is smothered by his kiss.
“You take me so well,” he growls against your lips, “We fit perfectly.” He breaks the kiss to look down at where your two bodies are connected. It felt as if you were one, melting into each other little by little the more Minho thrust his cock inside of you. You simply nod, mind even more dizzy with the way he’s already pulling out again before slamming back into you, his pace quickening as he presses you into the mattress.
Your nails dig into his skin, crescent moon shapes blooming over the expanse of his honey skin. His eyes still bore into you, hips now thrusting at an unrelenting pace, his small room filled with a cacophony of wet sounds, whines tumbling from your parted lips and curses that almost silently fell from his.
“Gonna come soon,” Minho chokes out, his eyebrows furrowing, “I’m sorry, I—”
You silence him with a press of your lips, hands now tangling in his messy hair.
“You’re always so good to me,” you tell him, feeling his cock pulse inside of your walls. “Wanna be good to you too, make you feel good.”
And he simply leans down before kissing you reverently. The sound of his skin slapping against yours mixed with the creaking of his bed likely much too loud, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. At least not at the moment. Not with the way his hand snakes along your hips, rough fingers now rolling delicious circles around your clit while his other palm presses down onto your abdomen, and his cock continuously hits a spot inside of you that has you all but crumbling apart underneath him.
Your mouth falls open, breaking the kiss, his cock twitching inside of you as his body stills on top of you. With furrowed brows and agape lips, Minho comes mere seconds before you reach your high as well, toes curling against his back as you melt onto his cock.
You stay that way for a while — a few seconds, maybe minutes — simply looking at each other as your labored breaths intertwine.
You finally reach up, brushing his dampened hair away from his beautiful eyes that now look at you as if you were the sole reason why the stars sparkle. Minho’s fingers soon find yours, tangling together as he brings your hands to his lips and presses a chaste kiss to your knuckles.
You smile.
You love him.
It’s not a realization but rather a confirmation of something you’ve already known all too well and for far too long. You still can’t put it into words, but somehow, you are certain that he knows just as well.
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Minho accidentally awoke you in the morning with his habit of slamming his door shut, apologizing as you grumbled at him and insisted you would only accept his apology if he let you give him a blowjob. He laughed, simply pulling you closer to him on the bed as he sat up and you finally gave the most beautiful man you had ever met the head he deserved.
Minho’s parents and grandmother had left to eat at a fancy restaurant, and after lying through his teeth and telling his very distraught mother that you were feeling too sick to leave the bed, you two stayed behind. They didn’t have to know the real reason you couldn’t leave the bed — Minho and his apparent insatiable hunger for you. It was as if something had been awoken inside him now that he had a taste of you, and he had to make up for all the lost time.
You two only leave his room late in the afternoon, the sun setting on the pale winter sky outside his bedroom window. His family would arrive soon, and you needed to get ready for their tradition of opening Christmas presents while watching bad holiday movies.
When Minho followed you when you headed toward the bathroom, you thought little of it. It was only when he began undressing alongside you that panic truly set in.
“We literally had sex, why do you sound so horrified?” Was all he offered you when you asked what he was doing before entering the steamy shower with you.
It was your first time showering with someone, and the fact that it made you so nervous felt almost pathetic. Minho was right; you had sex, and you saw each other naked and sweaty and vulnerable. This shouldn’t be any different.
Except it was.
You found yourself too awkward to wash yourself, doing a terrible job at pretending to scrub at your arms as you watched Minho shower like a normal person. He let out a chuckle after rinsing his hair, shaking his head.
“Are you seriously shy? Seriously?” He asked, turning your body around so your back faced him. “The girl who begged to suck my cock just this morning is too shy to shower in front of me?”
You opened your lips to refute him, but your words died in your mouth as you felt Minho’s hand spread shampoo all over your hair. His fingers gently massaged your scalp before placing his hand over your eyes to shield them from the foam as he rinsed your hair. He repeated the process with conditioner, then moved on to wash your body with his almost sickly sweet watermelon body wash. He did it all while humming, making you so relaxed and comfortable that all your silly insecurities dissipated in the air along with the steam from the hot water.
Suffice to say, showering without Minho would now be a sad affair.
You are now sitting on the floor before the television, his family exchanging gifts. Dori purred on your lap, and Soonie bit Minho’s socks, trying his best to remove the fabric from his feet. It’s finally time for you two to exchange gifts, and you’re a bit glad his family seemed to be so immersed in the movie because you know you would combust if you had to explain your gift to them.
“Here,” you hand him an orange box with a black bow. “It’s stupid. Now that I think about it, it’s probably such a fucking dumb gift. It seemed like a good idea at the time, and Eunha even made one for her sister. I almost stole hers ‘cause it turned out much better than mine—”
“My god,” Minho interrupts you with a hearty laugh, taking the box in his hands and inspecting it. “It’s been a while since you word vomited so much. What the hell did you get me that made you so nervous?”
He pulls on the bow, unraveling it before taking the black fabric in his hands and tying it around your head. He laughs once more, and you roll your eyes.
“Minho, just get to it before I snatch this box from you.”
With one last chuckle, he finally opens the box. He stills as he takes in the notebook, sitting on top of far too much wrapping tissue paper. The cat print cardstock paper was a pain to find, but it’s worth it now as you watch Minho’s lips curl into a smile as his fingers gingerly travel through the cover. It was crooked, a bit too small, and still reeked of bookbinding glue, but it reminds you of the day you met Minho, and that was all you thought about when you decided on this gift.
“You fucking bound me a notebook,” he says, still bewildered.
“Took me a while, but I did say I was gonna do it. I’m a woman of my word.”
Minho looks up at you, his smile reaching his eyes and turning them into the pretty crescent moons you love so much. “I love it,” he beams, hands now squeezing your cheeks as he pulls you into a small kiss. “This and that coffee stained notebook are going on my bookshelf back in my dorm, displayed in all their glory.”
Minho pulls away and reaches toward two small boxes on the coffee table. He clears his throat, handing you one box as he settles the other on his lap.
“I thought of you when I saw this on my Instagram feed,” he simply says, fingers toying with the misshaped bow on top of the box — one very similar to the one on your birthday gift many months ago. “Thought about what we talked about in Japan, y’know, about soulmates.”
You raise a brow at him, quickly undoing the bow on your box as curiosity washes over you. You pick up a bracelet made only of red thread, eyeing it curiously.
Minho retrieves the same bracelet from his own box, putting it on before asking, “Have you heard of the red string of fate?”
“That myth that a thread connects two people meant to be together?” You question.
He nods. “Exactly. I feel like that was us,” He explains, taking the red bracelet from your hands and slipping it around your wrist before gently tightening the thread. “Feel like all our little coincidences were little threads tying us together until we met.”
You feel the tears well up in your eyes, but you don’t bother trying to hide or stop them this time. Grabbing Minho’s hand that stilled around your wrist, you lace your fingers together, admiring your matching bracelets. It could only be fate. Every small detail that aligned and every road you two crossed to reach the place where you are now could only have come to be because fate wanted it to be that way.
Out of every city you could have lived in, every different university you could have chosen to attend, down to every other seat that could have been empty on the day you met Minho — everything fell into place like a puzzle piece, exactly as if a long, invisible string tied you to him and finally decided it was time to pull you together.
Minho’s gentle touch brushes against your cheek as he silently wipes your tears — no words are needed between you two at that moment as he smiles softly at you while you feel your eyes burn from the cry you had held back for so long. And, as if you’re his mirror, you feel yourself smile as his lips upturn into a grin when his gaze shifts to the open window.
“It’s snowing,” he beams. “It’s the first snow of the year, and our first snow together.”
 
You stand in front of Minho’s house, the light snow falling softly and covering your heads in white as he kisses you, only stopping to grumble against your lips.
“Your phone’s going crazy in my pocket,” He pouts, and you furrow your brows. You had already sent your family holiday messages, and your friends were all busy with their own Christmas celebrations, so you were clueless about who it could be.
“Can you check it for me?”
Minho nods, untangling himself from your embrace just enough to reach into his pocket and grab your phone to unlock it.
“There’s like fifty new messages from a group chat. Best Fucking Five?” He chuckles lightly at the name, his chilly breath tickling your cheek.
You, on the other hand, immediately frowned as you heard the name. It’s a long-forgotten group chat with your old friend group from high school. You had all stopped talking a little before graduation, with you especially distancing yourself from them upon realizing their toxic words and reactions to your relationships only served to make you feel worse about yourself. No one bothered to leave or delete the group since it quietly died and had stayed that way for over three years now.
Minho hands you the phone, and you click another notification that pops up as soon as you unlock the device.
The conversation began with your former friend sending a screenshot of one of your ex-boyfriend’s newest Instagram post. You skim through the caption and blanch at the words accompanied by a sonogram picture. His girlfriend is pregnant, and he’s over the moon about it.
And you, for some reason, find yourself laughing so much you have to clutch onto Minho’s shoulder as your stomach starts to hurt.
He shoots you an understandably puzzled look, but you can’t stop the giggles that spill from your lips, so you settle on showing him the screenshot. 
“I got the best Christmas gift tonight,” Minho reads from the screen. “I'm going to be a dad, and the most wonderful woman I’ve ever known is the mother,” he trails off with a questioning lilt, brows furrowing as that had only confused him more.
“It’s one of my exes,” you manage to tell him after catching your breath.
Minho hums, taking your hands and shoving them in his overcoat pocket along with your phone.
“And why did that make you lose your mind laughing?” He asks with a small smile.
“I guess it was the shock, really. It also made me realize just how little I care about him now. All of them, actually. Every time I was broken up with or had my heart broken in some way, it honestly felt like the end of the world,” you explain, “Like my heart would never recover and like I would hate them for the rest of my life. For years I had such a strong ax to grind with them, and that hatred and grudge only caused me harm. It made me hate love, and it made me blame myself.”
Minho nods, pressing his forehead to yours. Around you two, the snow got thicker, and only the distant sounds of children laughing from neighboring houses could be heard throughout the quiet street.
“But it’s different now?”
You smile up at him. “It’s different now, and I only just realized that. These people are no longer people I hate. They’re simply their words and their actions toward me, but they, as people, mean nothing to me.”
Minho smiles and wraps his arms around you in a tight embrace. This realization makes you feel lighter, like a small part of the weight of healing has been removed from the equation. It’s only you and yourself now; none of them has any power over your emotions anymore.
“Maybe we should send the baby a present,” you joke, and Minho buries his head in the crook of your neck with a chuckle, and you jump as his cold nose brushes against your skin.
“Maybe we should.”
At that moment, in the arms of this amazing man who has helped you more than he will ever know, you realize that love truly isn’t bad. People can be bad, circumstances can be catastrophic, and wrong timing can destroy nearly everything. But love is, at the core of it all, good.
“Minho,” you call out, feeling him hum against your skin before lifting his head to look at you. “I love you,” you say simply.
His smile rivals every pretty thing around you. The first snow, the gleaming Christmas decorations, and even the moon herself pale in comparison to the smile that Minho gives you.
“I love you, too,” he replies, a tangible sense of bliss in his voice, as if he has yearned for a lifetime to finally be able to say those words to you.
You wrap your arms tighter around Minho, and your fingers brush against the red thread that adorns your wrist. It truly feels as if fate had led you to Minho, leaving little clues along the way to make sure you both knew when you finally met. His journey to you had been relatively easy, while yours had been heart-wrenching, but in the end, it had brought you heaven.
If soulmates really are a thing, there is not an ounce of doubt in your being that Minho is yours. More than anything, he taught you that love is present in everything around you. Love is being kind to others like Minho is kind to his family and strangers in convenience stores at midnight. Love is staying up with your best friend while she cries on the couch, not expecting anything in return. Love is the laughter of little kids on Christmas night echoing throughout a neighborhood. Love is also going out on your own, doing something simply because it will make you happy, and being kind to yourself. All this time, you held onto the belief that love is destructive and only leads to sadness, oblivious to the fact that it has surrounded you every step of the way.
Love is everywhere and in everything.
In the end, Minho had always been right.
Love is the most amazing thing in life.
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♡ taglist: @notevenheretbh1, @malunar28replies, @jazziwritesthings, @finchyyy, @bloom-ings, @linocz, @minhochaos, @lastgreatamericandynasty1, @missminhoe, @jungkookies1002, @meanergreener
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lunarw0rks · 9 months
Note
Hello! I just found your blog and I just started reading everything I saw 😅. Can I request 141 + König + Alejandro with a pregnant reader? They don't know yet and when the reader will break the news they are really stressed with work and end up taking it out on the reader, they end up getting into an argument and saying they hate the reader and that their life would be so much better without the reader in it (😈). The reader takes this seriously and leaves when they are asleep... Months later they meet again when the reader is on her way to the hospital to give birth (😈). Angst to fluff pls. If you don't feel good about writing or it's too big, that's fine. Have a nice day and thank you so much for all the time you spend writing to us.
The Things We Say // 141 Drabble
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Summary: You're expecting, but it's not good news. To him, at least. Your relationship takes a hit, but once he meets your child, he's swallowed with regret for how he treated you.
Warning(s): angst to fluff, hurt/comfort, pregnancy, childbirth, mentions of premature birth/complications, mild injury/blood, strong language, established relationship, fem!Reader, no use of y/n
A/N: I was hurting my own feelings---but, there's fluff after the angst, so don't get too upset besties<3 Hope you don't mind anon, I took some creative liberty because I didn't want them all to have the same plotline. | Word Count: 5.9k
꒦꒷ MAIN MASTERLIST ꒷꒦ 141 MASTERLIST // have a request? ⋆ ⚘ 🕊 ˚✧ ₊˚ʚ ao3 ver.
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SYNOPSIS; he had been in the thick of it lately, sometimes more overwrought when at home with you than in active combat, it seemed. Conversations were either abrupt, crude, or nonexistent—often just building on top of the tension building between the two of you. Relationships were supposed to be fifty-fifty, but you felt you were carrying the burden of the whole percentage. That’s why the news couldn’t have come at a worse time—you, staring at the two lines instead of one. No matter how long you stared, double-checked the diagram, the answer was the same. Pregnant. So, now you knew two things for certain, you were expecting, and most heartbreaking—the other one responsible was at his worst. To break the news to him, it took every fiber of your being.
⋘ » ☆ « ⋙
AFTERMATH; nine months of hell. That’s how you would answer if someone asked. Few people did though, even at work or out on the street. There was the occasional boy or girl, how are you feeling. But they were being polite, or taking pity on the pregnant woman without a ring on her finger. The pregnant woman with bags under her eyes, the one who winces with each step because she’s ready to pop. None of it meant anything to you, because the other half of this responsibility had been left in the dark, and not for much longer. You weren’t raising this child alone, no matter how irate he was going to be when you contacted him.
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Price
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One of John’s many talents; stewing on his feelings, keeping them suppressed for an unnatural amount of time.
Often so long that he forgot about the source of his anger once he had time to catch up to them. That is… Until his work was involved. Then he was an entirely different man, often spending his time deep in a bottle and with a nose deep in paperwork, with little regard for anyone else around him.
His control, it was typically so consistent, that he knew not to bring his professional problems home. But lately? It’s been anything but typical. He wasn’t what you would call mean, but there was definitely a negative word to describe it. Cold? Apathetic? Perhaps even unwelcoming?
The bickering, if you could call it that, had droned on for several minutes now. Though, it was mostly you venting your frustrations to an uninterested Price. ❝I know it’s not good timing, John. Why the fuck do you think I’m in here trying to reason with you? Are we just supposed to ignore this until we can’t anymore?❞ You hissed, tempted to rip the paperwork from his grip to get him to pay attention.
He always wanted children, but not right now. Naturally, that’s when it happened. He felt like he was drowning, at first only professionally, but now personally too. The funds weren’t a problem, the kid had two parents, but… you and him—nothing was working.
❝Sweetheart, I’m in the thick of it right now. Please.❞ He didn’t need to raise his voice for you to see how irritated he was. Perhaps at the baby, you, himself, or all the above. ❝I have a meeting.❞ He stood up from his workspace, steaming coffee in hand.
John walked away from you like you were a pestering soldier, not the mother of his child. Enough was enough.
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He thought he was slick, only giving you physical checks to see your face, to ensure that you were indeed alright. It was often the coffee shop within equal walking distance of your two separate homes. John would always slide the amount you needed across the table, a look of remorse on his face. Each monthly meeting, your stomach would grow in size, as did your drained expression.
But you wouldn’t talk to him. You would only text him the amount, nod when he asked questions. It was the worst torture you could put a man like John through—one that needed the approval of his loved ones. It just couldn’t happen, not yet. The wounds of how he treated you, they were too fresh, even after nine months of this routine.
To be truthful, you debated on even calling him when you went into labor. You could do it alone, right? With just the support of the delivery nurses, and most of all your baby girl as the reward? Perhaps you could wait until after, give him the respect to at least meet his daughter. For someone not carrying a child, he looked just as beat; sunken eyes, less tidy facial hair than usual, and somehow even more tobacco on his breath.
John was clawing himself from the inside out, begging for something other than a “yes” or “no” from your lips.
❝I can’t do this,❞ you repeated it about fifty times, tears streaming down your cheeks from both the pain and the distraught feelings. That plan you had to not call him, it was falling through quite quickly. This level of agony? You needed someone other than a doctor. You needed the father, as much as it pained you to admit.
❝Yes, you can dear, women have babies everyday.❞ Bless the nurse, she was trying her best to keep you calm, but it didn’t work.
What if something went wrong? If somehow you didn’t make it but your baby girl did, she would be alone until he got here… That couldn’t, no—wouldn’t happen. He needed to be there, right beside this bed to hold her in case you couldn’t.
In between your pained grunts, you finally spit out what you’d been trying to tell her, finding a split second of sensibility during all this distress. ❝Call… John. Please, call him!❞
The doors swung open faster than any of the personnel, his gaze softening when he saw you breathing in a patterned fashion. The nurse beside you gave him a nod, freeing your hand for him to take her place. John wasn’t going to miss this, and frankly, he was irked that he almost did. But he wasn’t irked at you; he was irked at himself for taking this for granted.
His soothing voice talks you through each contraction, a soothing hand dabbing away the sweat and tears streaming down your face.
❝I got you, sweetheart. You’re almost done pushing.❞ Though he looked gruff on the outside, inside he was distraught. You had maintained the cold shoulder throughout the pregnancy, but you still called him here? You were more than he deserved in his eyes.
The last round of pushing, and they were close together now. You had about thirty seconds to say this, before you were screaming again.❝I’m glad you’re here.❞ Despite all the pain you were in, you gave his hand a squeeze, staring at him with a glossy expression.
His eyes nearly watered; the first sentence you had uttered to him in months, and it was clear you meant every bit of it. You needed him and so did your daughter, right here right now. He pressed a kiss to your temple, a soothing massaging your shoulder.
John kept his tone firm on purpose, to emphasize how deeply he cared for you right now. ❝I’ll always be here for you, love. Always.❞ 
Simon
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Simon loved deep; hated even deeper.
It was one of the features that drew you to him in the first place, how blunt he could be, how his broodiness contrasted your personality in more ways than one. His cynical behavior could be humorous, could be reassuring, but most of all—bitter. To add stress to the equation, to bring it home? He was an explosive disaster waiting to happen.
❝Simon,❞ you approached from behind, holding the test in your hands, because you knew the first question he would ask when you told him; is if you took one. Well, if he wasn’t actively cursing under his breath, he would’ve.
Instead, he merely flicked his eyes over for a brief moment, as if you were a stranger on the street that said excuse me. ❝Simon.❞ Your tone grew firmer, clutching the stick with more apprehension.
❝Bloody Christ, what?❞ He shifted in his seat, bloodshot and hooded eyes that only twisted the knife further. You couldn’t tell him now, not with the pressure of being on the spot. The right words just wouldn’t come out, prompting you to put the stick behind your back. ❝Goddamn nuisance.❞ He muttered under his breath as if it was only supposed to be an internal thought. 
Though, he didn’t look all that remorseful about it—at least on the outside.
He had never said anything like that before, at least not to your face. It seemed, all the weeks of tension and cold shoulder, it was enough. You were done and out the door the second he’d dozed.
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Simon made a few futile attempts to reach out, but his own stubbornness prevented him from ever being face-to-face. He beat himself up so badly, and from his side of things—he’d only lost one person, not two.
It pained you to ask the delivery nurse to call him. You wanted to shove the crowning newborn right back inside and hold off, to go find him yourself and smack sense into him for putting you through this agony. But you couldn’t. Quite literally couldn’t get up, and didn’t want to. Resulting in pettiness and venom would make you worse than him because you would be using this child as a pawn.
He said nothing, but his eyes said enough. The nurses put a sterile drape over his shoulders, but he paid them no mind. His amber eyes remained on you; a bulging belly and an expression of pure agony. Had he missed something, a crucial chapter of your new life post-breakup? Most of all, why did you call him?
❝Hold my hand.❞ Simon found the side of your bed, allowing you to dig your fingernails into his forearm until there were imprints. He had few words, but the countenance of concern and guilt said it all. If this wasn’t his… you would’ve done this alone, or the father would be here. Then it dawned on him; it was his.
Hours passed, and he still hadn’t mentioned the obvious. Nine months without his support—financial or moral. You needed rest, as did the baby girl—so you were getting it, first and foremost. The adult matters would be better talked about when you weren’t still freshly recovering.
Simon tapped his foot against the tile, sitting in the chair beside the bed. He was unsure of who to keep an eye on more; the newborn swaddled in her own crib, or you, exhaustedly sleeping in your hospital bed. Though he’d held the girl, it felt forbidden, like he was only a placeholder until your body recovered enough to do it yourself. It was shock preventing him from feeling, not cruelty.
You stirred awake, a sigh of contempt when you laid eyes on him. The labor was a blur your mind had already shut out, and you truly didn’t recall the nurses contacting him. Your eyes were glossy with dark circles underneath them. ❝I’m…❞ It was like the night you tried to tell him but couldn’t, the words wouldn’t come out.
Simon saw that look in your eyes; the fear that he would explode, or storm out and leave you with the child forever—but he wasn’t. All the years of trying to not relieve the same mistakes his own father made, it would be useless if he did that. And he couldn’t, seeing that look of desperation on your face, how you looked as if you were going to burst into tears at the sight of him. That look, it was the same one that gnawed at him during those months apart, how he found you and your belongings gone.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. ❝Shh… Don’t apologize. Ever.❞ He was hovering now, a kiss pressed to your forehead. Whatever you decided when you were healed enough, he would take it like a man, because he had the audacity to speak to you like a man who wronged him.
Soap
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Soap was… a complicated man to say the least. Usually, he was sweet, charming, with the right amount of cockiness. His ability to make you laugh drew you into him in the first place. But it was dwindling—at least during the past few weeks. Now, all that remained was smugness and bitter mutters under the breath.
❝Don’t be a child about this, we’ll figure it out,❞ He says, slamming his car door behind you. The first time you two had been out to dinner together in weeks, spoiled because you finally broke the news to him. You teared up in the restaurant because his reaction was anything but accepting, and frankly, he found it embarrassing.
He hadn’t meant it that way—that’s just how it came out.
He truly did want to figure this baby thing out, but it was the worst possible timing; an all-time high of stress at work, bickering with you constantly. And now, a third added to the dynamic with only months to prepare? It was too much. ❝Oh, I’m acting like a child?❞ You walked into the house, taking off the jewelry you had on to look nice for him.
The bickering that ensued—it was nothing nice, nothing you’d care to remember.
❝I don’t want you to go, lass. Don’t do this.❞ You had already made up your mind. Perhaps it was your emotions clouding your judgment, that instinct you felt being a few weeks along… It didn’t matter, you couldn’t be here. Not with him, not right now.
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You were about to pop, literally any day now. You knew that meant you would have to talk to the father, and interact with him for about eighteen years—at least be civil. But the rationality of it, how you would have to co-parent with him, didn’t ease your anxieties. Of course, he was adamant about checking up on you and being more of a parasite than the fetus taking half your energy.
You closed the car door with your hip, a slow waddle up the pavement. Where the hell your keys were, that was another story—something you would deal with once you rolled yourself up to the door.
❝What the hell are you doin’?❞ The voice nearly made you drop all the grocery bags in your grasp, a jumpy shriek coming out. When you whipped around, it was Soap, a look of upset on his very expressive face.
Once you started to recover from the scare of a lifetime, an unintentional one at that, a scowl formed on your face. It was like he had a sense of the absolute worst time to show up and annoy you, especially now that you were swollen and extra agitated. ❝A phone call would’ve worked, Johnny. Or, I don’t know, maybe a ‘hey I’m right behind you, lady’!❞ You attempted to mock his accent out of pure frustration, but he didn’t find the humor in it, at least not right away.
He yanked the bags out of your grip, stomping up the steps of your porch. ❝You shouldn’t be carryin’ these.❞ You really should not be doing that, he was right, but the thought of him being your grocery boy—showing up even more? ❝Keys.❞ He held out his free hand, the other one swimming in bags. It was ridiculous, apparently, you weren’t allowed to twist a key now, either.
You shove past him once he’s turned the key, squeezing past and joining him in the kitchen. Without a word, he starts putting away anything and everything you bought. Some are nutritious, others purely to feed your cravings. ❝Don’t start.❞ You pointed a finger at him when he picked up a family-sized bag of candy, a smart-ass comment daring to escape his lips.
❝God, I can’t believe you, Johnny. Sneaking up on me like that, I could’ve fallen.❞ You put an instinctive hand on your stomach, still irked by his presence.
❝No, you would’ve fallen carrying all those bags yourself. I have a right to be worried, it’s my bloody kid too.❞ He retorts, a hand on his hip. He’s done all he’s obligated to now; carrying and putting away your groceries.
You tighten your lips into a line, fighting the urge to start a full-blown argument. ❝Yeah, you remind me every day, so thanks for tha— Shit.❞ It seemed, raising your voice counted as exerting yourself because there was a sudden cramp in your stomach, a trickle down your pant leg.
Soap’s eyes widened, seeing you go from scolding him to hunched over and holding your stomach. You had forced yourself into labor, now standing on knees about to buckle. ❝I’ve got you, now get going woman, before I put you over my shoulder.❞ He felt he had never moved faster, a tight fist around your forearm to keep you standing as he led you through the door you had just walked in.
It seemed there was little time between being admitted to actively pushing. This kid wanted out, and right this second. You let out a shriek as the back of your head slammed against the pillow, sweat trickling down your brow as you cursed and wailed. ❝I know it hurts, love, but you got this.❞ He allowed you to clamp down on his hand, to dig your fingertips until they drew blood.
❝Oh, you know do you?!❞ You snapped at him, finding it hard to be nice when you felt like you were being ripped in half.
❝If I wasn’t,❞ you grunted in between words, face scrunched and labored breathing, ❝stuck in this damn bed, I would so… hurt you right now, Johnny.❞ He fought the urge to snicker just a little bit, masking it with his concern for you. Seeing you in agony, even when you were actively snapping at him, it didn’t please him one bit.
Well, you were arguing with him, so he knew you weren’t actively dying.
If you used enough of that anger, it would help you literally push through the pain, just like how it caused the kid to want to come out right this second. For once, his pestering and sarcasm were actually helping.
With one final wave of it, your back arched off the bed and finally, the loud cry of an infant filled the white-walled room. Soap nearly fainted, if he was being honest—he was awfully squeamish for someone who dealt with blood daily. But it was your blood and… fluids, things that made him shiver when he pictured how painful that could’ve been.
The doctors were speedy, cleaning off and checking vitals. All he could do was stare at the newborn—his baby boy. And then he looked at you, choked up and stared in awe at the baby set on your chest. ❝Jesus…❞ he leaned down, placing a gentle hand on yours as it held the child’s head.
All the fighting, all the bickering, even the late-night candy runs—they were well worth it. He had a second chance now, to make things right with you, and to be a decent father.
Gaz
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Gaz could be hotheaded, sometimes downright blunt, especially when he’s passionate about something to do with his work. The night you were going to break the news, nothing was going right. He came home in a huff, not bothering to take off his boots before plopping on the sofa. Kyle had a right to be stressed; look at what he does all day. But he didn’t have a right to be cruel to you because of it.
You took a seat beside him and set the positive test down on his thigh. A silence followed by a scowl, and then he finally spoke. ❝You can’t be serious.❞ It nearly gutted you right then and there. His leg began to bounce anxiously the longer he glanced at the life-changing test results. 
❝Kyle, I—❞ you weren’t even sure what you were trying to say either, not that he gave you a chance. ❝I don’t have time for this, babe. I really can’t do this right now.❞ He put his head in his hands, a flustered groan escaping his lips.
❝Are you saying you don’t want this? That we shouldn’t have done this?❞ You were suddenly standing, eyes wide and watering. You felt like you had just been dumped on the street, despite his unclear tone.
He peered up, lips in a blunt line. ❝Maybe we shouldn’t have.❞ You could’ve crawled into a hole and died right then and there, but you merely nodded. Nodded and then left the room, leaving him to his moodiness. No, it wasn’t the best timing, but that didn’t give him the right to brush you off, to treat you like a distasteful afterthought.
It wasn’t just you anymore, it was you and the baby.
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It was one of his few days off—though he wasn’t feeling much relaxation. You were still hot and cold with him, now about halfway through your third trimester; thirty-two weeks to be exact. It was nearing that point, where he had prepared a spare room for the baby, began coordinating plans for labor, etc… 
But he still didn’t feel ready, or like he deserved you after how cruel he was that night. Kyle was only helping you to help you and the baby.
His phone buzzed, right when he had begun relaxing for the evening. 10:32 PM; and it was your number. The second he heard the voice of a nurse on the other line, not yours, his feet were halfway out the front door.
❝I’m fine, Kyle. I’m fine…❞ It seemed no matter how many times you repeated it, he didn’t seem to believe it. From the minute he entered your hospital room to now, he had at least one hand on you, a thumb grazing the cuts and bruises on your body. You had been in a car accident—mild for you, life-threatening for a preemie. ❝You’re not fine.❞ he said firmly, eyes darting towards your clothes bagged in the corner—bloodied and with windshield pieces still embedded.
Kyle was more worried about you at first, but you were solely concerned about your baby—left alone in the NICU being poked and prodded by personnel. You had to be induced, otherwise he wouldn’t have made it past the front doors. Now, he was too weak to be visited, too small and vulnerable to be held by his own mother yet. It was gut-wrenching; hours without a solid answer, because his chances depended solely on him making it through the night.
Now, there was nothing to do but wait, perhaps see your baby through a glass box if you got lucky.
❝He’s perfect,❞ Kyle peered down at the preemie in his hands, a baggy blue cap on his head. There were small babies, and he was somehow smaller. What once was the scare of a lifetime, it was now a passing memory to remind Gaz of what he could’ve lost. He would never make the mistake of talking to you like that again, even if the two events didn’t correlate.
What if the night you left, you got into an accident then, and it was much worse? He wouldn’t be able to live with himself, plain and simple. ❝It’s cheesy but, he does have your eyes.❞ You whispered from the nursing chair you were sitting in, still healing and fatigued from the ordeal. The picture in front of you; Kyle looking at your son with such love—it was irreplaceable and forever stuck in your memories.
❝Correct. But he has your scowl, babe.❞ Gaz flicked his eyes upwards, feeling you gently nudge his shin at the sound of the comment.
It didn’t matter the things he said months ago, as long as he cherished this new life with you as much as you planned to.
Alejandro
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Alejandro always had passion for the things he cherished; you and his work, nothing else mattered more. Passion led to intense feelings, intense feelings turned into misplaced bitterness. It wasn’t your fault that you were expecting, no more than it was his, at least. He knew that and had he just taken a breath and thought more carefully about his phrasing, this whole mess could’ve been avoided.
❝Do you think I wanted to interrupt you, Alejandro?❞ You hissed, standing in the doorway of his office with the positive test in your hands. He had just looked at you with such distaste as if you were the root cause of his stress and not his work.
What better way to stir the pot, than to match his wrath? Well, it certainly did that, though seeing him rage was the last sight you wanted to see. Alejandro always had trouble with his anger, often finding himself with all these feelings he had no clue how to control.
❝You always do what you want!❞ There it was, him blowing his fuse. He’d thrown his hands in the air, face tightened into a scowl. He couldn’t leave it at that, either, not when his rage came in such intense waves. ❝You’ll do what you always do—bleed me dry!❞
You couldn’t speak, despite how vicious you felt only seconds before. It seemed too truthful for your liking like he had been waiting for an excuse to spill his guts. ❝As long as you have enough to amuse yourself, I’m nothing to you, right?❞ He wasn’t yelling anymore, but his mocking tone was enough to tear at your heartstrings.
Had he seriously played that card with you—the man always insistent on taking care of you, financially, physically, emotionally? Now, of all times? The argument ended with you slamming the front door behind you, something he would’ve done.
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You spent weeks ignoring him, and throughout the pregnancy, it was dry texts or brief calls. His only sign that you were even alive was the notification that you had used his account to purchase necessities. The irony of it made Alejandro nauseous, how awful he made it sound that you were doing what he told you to; to let him take care of you. The fact that you didn’t drain the funds, only bought what you needed, spoke volumes.
❝I’m not upset at you, amor—I wasn’t upset with you.❞
Alejandro reached a hand across the picnic table, a firm but loving grip on your forearm. You looked beat; hair a different length than before, exhausted eyes that were brimming with tears, and most of all a growing stomach. It was all his fault; the reason you didn’t want to face him like this, in fear that he would cut you and the baby off for good. Only, he was there to see your face, not for confrontation or another spat.
It didn’t matter what you said, if you screamed at him right now, or said nothing. Alejandro had made up his mind the night you left. ❝I’ll come to every appointment, parenting class, anything.❞
Of all the nights for you to be in labor, it had to be during a wicked storm. You had gone over to his house to make civil conversation over dinner, to at least attempt at repairing things. He had slaved over the stove, cooking his favorite for you. For most of the meal, things were… surprisingly tranquil; even romantic.
You were heavily pregnant, were you supposed to refuse a warm meal? Not a chance. You were too full, too swollen to get up out of the dining chair once the meal finished. And looking out the window? There was no way in hell Alejandro was going to let you drive home in this; droplets whipped down, trees and waste bins flew away from the force of it, and the rain was icy. Well, you were exhausted, and he had a bed he was willing to give up. Your back and feet practically sighed in relief when you laid back in his bed, the one you two once shared. It was a nice feeling, being there again and knowing Alejandro was trying his hardest to plead forgiveness.
About an hour into your much needed-slumber, you felt a pool in the sheets. Instinctually, you figured it was the fetus pressing on your bladder—a downright embarrassing thing you’d have to wake up and explain to him. But… it was clear it wasn’t that. You were in labor and stuck here.
The shriek you let out when you got a violent contraction; Alejandro dashed quicker than he ever did when dodging bullets. His fumbling fingers dialed 911, yanking the comforter off the bed to get a better view of your dilation. Fortunately, he was trained on how to deliver a baby when stranded, or in a country without medical support. But this was his baby and your life was in his hands. If he didn’t do this correctly, if something went wrong, he would never forgive himself.
The ambulance wouldn’t be there for an hour—you didn’t have an hour to spare, this baby was coming now. ❝You can do this, amor, we’re doing this together.❞ One hand clenched yours, the other kept an eye on the crowning baby. Just how you hadn’t woken up sooner, neither of you knew. Perhaps you had gotten so used to cramps and pains, that you thought it was just another sleepless night courtesy of the little one.
The moment your wails went silent as his baby girl finally came, Alejandro felt his heart drop. He had to make the worst decision; focusing on the newborn first. He wrapped her in one of his shirts, wiping the fluid and blood from her small face. As he cradled her, a quick hand fingered for a pulse, a loud sigh escaping his lips when he felt one. You had only passed out from the pain—probably doing you a service, considering he didn’t have the proper medication to numb your pain.
Your eyes fluttered open at the sound of the wailing child, still with gritted teeth. But your baby was there—and her lungs were very clearly working. Alejandro set her down on your chest, allowing you to hold your daughter for the first time. ❝You did so well, cariño. Look at her.❞ He was merely distracting you with the baby on your chest, to not divert your attention towards the state your body was in as he cleaned you up.
Somehow, he had pulled this off with both his girls safe, soon to be checked out properly at a hospital. When you first broke the news, he thought he knew the meaning of being so suddenly thrust into fatherhood, but that took on a whole new meaning after tonight.
König
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There had once been a line he didn’t cross, but he did that night. König never yelled at you. He saved that stern side of him for his work because it was acceptable there. But in the weeks that his work had bled onto you, spoiling the relationship, his values seemed to loosen. Though he was a complicated man, a man uncertain of himself and his appearance, he maintained a hardness about him. Ruthless in the field and immensely protective of anyone that had come to love him. 
You approached him as he worked, placing the test on the desk he was sitting at. ❝König, I need to tell you something.❞
With his head facing the paperwork, he merely shrugged at you. Until he saw what you’d placed there, his eyes going wide. But it wasn’t shock or excitement; it was disdain for the fact that this baby was just another interruption—you were just another interruption. ❝I have no time for this, Schatz, you know that.❞
He didn’t need to raise his voice for his words to sting, his bitter tone was more than enough. But he surely hadn’t meant it like that, right? He’d meant he didn’t have time for this right now… right?
❝Why don’t you go rest, then?❞ He asks, picking up the folder that he was reading previously. It wasn’t a request made out of concern, König was patronizing you. His glare was typically enough to make a soldier scramble, but you just stood there for a few seconds, biting back the urge to choke.
How you left that night, it wasn’t dramatic or emotional, it was dry. König tells you to think clearly about this, to sleep on it. But you couldn’t—and you weren’t going to be a verbal punching bag.
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König only called you weekly for appointment updates, or to let you know he had sent you a check. Other than that, words dripped with tension and the urge to say so much more. But you were too stubborn for your own good, and so was he. You were more concerned with hosting life than playing games with a father who treated you like a wimp.
He’d only seen you once, during the second trimester when he showed up at your apartment. You protested, but he showed up anyway, saying he needed “proof” that you and the fetus were safe. The voice on the phone wasn’t enough, in his eyes.
Of course, when you needed him most, screaming and keeling over in the kitchen, he wasn’t there. It was a neighbor that called an ambulance for you because they knew they had a pregnant tenant next door. In fact, it was such a close call, you nearly didn’t make it to the delivery room before the newborn came out wailing.
The only plus side? While the paramedics were deterring you from pushing, you’d sent a text—probably unintelligible—but a text, nonetheless. He knew your due date, how today was only a few days off, and he was in his car before he could grasp the severity of this new life stage.
❝I’m here, schätzchen. I’m not going to hurt you again, or him.❞ He hunched over the bed, eyes in a perpetual state of disbelief as he watched you soothe the whining newborn. Clarity hit him like a truck when he heard your screams during delivery, and then he was all in. Not that he had a choice, this was his doing too.
He had given you the financial support to get proper nutrition for you and the baby, to pay for the appointments, but that wasn’t enough—not in König’s eyes. He needed to snap out of his self-pity and be a support system. Whether you wanted to co-parent or work on repairing the relationship, you were not under any circumstances taking care of this newborn alone, at your apartment.
He placed a hand in your hair, threading his fingers through the strands. ❝We can clear out the spare room, hm? There’s more than enough room for the two of you.❞ He was already picturing it, how he was going to pull an all-nighter and get to work on the room, going to your apartment and moving the baby supplies from yours to his.
König didn’t need to state the obvious, that you weren’t bound to any type of relationship besides the one concerning the child. Whether you wanted to move out once the baby hit a certain age or not, he was going to keep an eye on the two of you.
Two of you, not just the newborn you were rocking. It was either both of you, or neither, and he was intent on it being the first option.
If you made it this far - THANK YOU!
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