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#i don’t understand my emotions so i spill them here
justsayhello · 2 years
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Grey
I went down for supper
The stares dug through my skin
Felt them as my eyes were on the plate
Was I even hungry?
No I wasn't
But i had barely eaten all day
No no you're not hungry
You don't wanna go there do you?
No
Dad’s voice broke through
‘Are you okay’?
Am i?
I don't know
What am I really feeling?
I don't know
‘I’m fine’ I said
Then i forced my facial muscles
To form a smile
Mom looked relieved
Nice
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zarameraki · 1 month
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˖°🕷️ ࣪𖤐 𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗽-𝗳𝗮𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗼𝗷𝗶 ˖°🕷️𖤐
: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 minors do not interact 𖥔 unprotected sex 𖥔 step-father x step-daughter 𖥔 porn with plot 𖥔 banter 𖥔 dom daddy and his little girl 𖥔 neck kissing 𖥔 alternate universe 𖥔 praise 𖥔 bj 𖥔 biting 𖥔 nipple play 𖥔 daddy issues 𖥔 dirty talking 𖥔 small pillow talk 𖥔 nsfw 𖥔 smut
: ̗̀➛ words: 4.0k
: ̗̀➛ notes: ok look, i was ovulating and i had to write this for some reason. i even wrote a nanami one (but he's your step-uncle). my mind was in the gutter and i wanted to challenge myself to something super taboo. if you have any requests, don’t hesitate to send them. pls follow, reblog, like, comment—whatever you want! okay love you and enjoy.
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Here you were, standing on a worn-out welcome mat, staring at the door of your ex-stepfather’s house.
It’s surreal.
A month ago, when your mom dropped the bomb about their divorce, you felt like your world was crumbling. Part of you felt relieved, like you could finally breathe without suffocating under their constant tension. And the other part? Well, it felt like a piece of you was being ripped away.
Last week, when the papers were finalized, making it official that they were done, you locked yourself in your room. The silence was deafening, and you couldn’t shake off that nagging feeling of missing him. Missing Toji. It’s ridiculous, right? He’s not your step dad anymore. He’s just some guy now. Too old, too wrong, too different.
You should just turn around and leave, forget about all this.
But you couldn’t.
Not today.
Not when you’re clutching your hard-earned bachelor’s degree, wearing a stupid graduation gown that felt like a costume. He didn’t bother showing up for your biggest achievement, just like your mother. She was always occupied with her own life to care about you. You were just an accident, a spill on her pile of kitchen table bills. 
Toji, though, he was different. He actually paid attention, listened to you, cared about what you had to say. Maybe you’re being stupid for wanting to talk to him, to pour out everything that’s been eating you up for months. But you needed to do this, for yourself, even if it meant facing the reality that he’s not part of your life anymore.
So, you’d driven straight to his residence building, skipping the after parties with your friends. You were twenty-two for fuck’s sake. If you wanted to spend the night celebrating with your step-dad, then that’s exactly what you were going to do. 
Enough was enough. 
Your trembling finger hovered over the doorbell, each second feeling like an eternity. The sharp pricks of anxiety danced on your palms, and the weight on your shoulders threatened to crush you. But you couldn’t turn back now.
The ache in your chest demanded resolution, an answer to the haunting question that had plagued you since your mother first brought him into your life: Do I want to fuck my step-dad? 
Yes. Yes, you very much did. 
The clicks of the lock rattled and the door knob twisted clockwise. 
Toji stood in the doorway, his presence dominating the space as if he had devoured the entire door frame. His twelve abdomen muscles rippled, stark against his skin. Jet-black hair clung wetly to his forehead, partially obscuring his eyes. With sweatpants slung low on his hips, a tantalizing trail of hair led downward, drawing attention to the area you often found yourself fantasizing about.
“Fucking hell,” he muttered under his breath, realization dawning. “It was today, wasn’t it?”
“You’re such an ass,” you spat out, your body trembling with a mix of emotions—his forgetfulness, his proximity to you, the sheer presence of him. But at this moment, all your focus was on the pain of him abandoning you after promising he’d be there. “I was completely alone, Toji. Do you even understand how embarrassing it was to stand there by myself while everyone else had their families?”
“Sweetheart—”
“No. No, you don’t get to call me that. You don’t—You made me a promise, Toji. You swore you’d be there for me.”
“I know,” he murmured, running his hand down his face. “I’m sorry, kid. Come here.” He grasped your wrist and drew you towards him, enveloping you in a tight embrace. His strong arms wrapped around your body, reminiscent of the times he used to challenge you by having you sit on his back during push-ups to prove you wrong about being too heavy for him. “Better?”
“No,” you grumbled, resting your cheek against his chest. He had the scent of spruce and cigarettes that you found strangely comforting. What you wouldn’t do to sleep on his chest for hours, days and weeks. “Toji, I . . . I want to talk to you about something.” 
“What is it?” he asked, stepping back. 
“Can we sit down first?” 
He grinned. “Of course, baby.” 
With a shy smile of your own, you took his hand, feeling the warmth of his touch as he led you towards the plush couch at the center of the room. Memories of previous visits with your mother flashed briefly in your mind, but they were quickly replaced by the present moment.
The apartment’s decor was simple yet masculine, with red-brick walls lending a rustic charm. A mounted television, a large couch, and a hanging boxing bag added character to the space. The kitchen, though small, was designed in an L-shape, showcasing Toji’s dedication to fitness with his assortment of protein powders and supplements neatly arranged.
As you both settled onto the couch, Toji relaxed back, spreading out his legs and placing his arms on the backrest. His gaze lingered on you as you gracefully removed your graduation gown and placed your degree on his coffee table. 
“Your mother allowed you to wear that?” His thumb traced the curve of his lower lip as his gaze roamed shamelessly over you.
The gown you had on was a sleek, satin creation with a daring thigh-high slit. Its fabric was delicate, featuring thin straps and a plunging cleavage that barely contained your breasts. It was no secret that you had chosen it with Toji in mind, especially since your mother had been “too busy” to accompany you on your shopping trip.
“She doesn’t control my wardrobe,” you replied, your voice laced with confidence as you settled beside him. One leg tucked beneath you, the other languidly extended, the slit in your dress showcasing the smoothness of your skin. Toji’s gaze followed the line of exposed flesh before meeting your eyes. “Besides, you shouldn’t be the one to talk.” 
His smirk widened when you pointed out his lack of a shirt. “My house, my rules.”
You changed the subject. “Care to explain why you missed my graduation?”
“Work,” he replied shortly.
“Is that so?”
“I got a last-minute call for a match. The prize money was going to cover the next three months’ rent.” Toji was a professional MMA fighter. You had once attended one of his matches for ten minutes before almost passing out from witnessing how brutally he defeated his opponent. His persona in the ring was a juxtaposition to the sarcastic yet caring man he was at home with you.
“Did you win?” you asked, absently twirling the bracelet he had given you for your twenty-first birthday.
“Yeah,” he replied, his tone carrying a hint of pride. “I won.”
“Good.” You lifted your gaze to meet his, only to find his eyes fixed on you. “Do you miss home?”
“I am home.”
“You know what I mean.”
He took a deep breath, gazing at the blank television screen. Tilting his head back towards you, he wore a lopsided grin. “I miss you. Does that count?”
Your insides turned to jelly at his words, but you refused to let yourself falter, refusing to become the shy, sweet girl you once were, despite the depraved and forbidden reel playing in your mind. 
You missed watching television with your head on his lap. You missed cooking together. You missed doing the dishes afterward. You missed joining him on walks and runs just to spend a little extra time together. You missed dragging him to malls with you and trying on clothes, posing as sexily as you could, but obviously, he didn’t understand the signals. He never did. Even if you’d spend more time with him than your own mother. 
Silence ensued around you, only the subtle sounds of your choppy breaths and his composed ones were heard. 
“Why are you here, kid?” Toji’s gruff voice cut through the air.
“To see you.” 
“Why are you here?” 
You held your breath tightly in your chest. “I wanted to talk.” 
“About?” He was quick with the question, as if he knew what you were about to say, but wanted to hear it from your lips. Lips that he couldn’t pull his eyes away from. “Talk to me.” 
“I—” You felt a knot form in your throat. “I wanted to check up—”
“Bullshit.” 
Yeah, bullshit. 
What were you scared of? This was the man who cut up fruits for you when you were mentally deprived from crunching for your exams. This was the man who put a blanket on you if you fell asleep reading, even giving a kiss to your crown. This was the man who treated you like you were his own daughter, when in reality, you never were. And he never outwardly called you his daughter, either. You didn’t know why you never saw him as a father figure, but rather, you called him a friend. A really good friend. A friend you’d fallen stupidly in love with over the course of six months. 
Toji snapped his fingers in front of your face. You blinked out of the whirlpool of your thoughts. “Where’d you go?” 
“To you.” 
He lifted a brow. “To me?” 
Now or never, Y/N. Now or fucking never. 
You knelt down and moved closer, settling yourself onto his lap. His eyes widened momentarily at your boldness. “Toji, I like you. Hell, I love you. I love every version of the man you’ve been in my life. I know—I know you love me, too. Probably not in the way I want you to, but a girl can hope.” Your words were directed at the dog tag hanging from his neck as you gently placed your hands on his chest. “I did come here to scold you for not attending my graduation, but I also wanted to . . . I wanted to be with you. In more ways than one.” 
“You don’t know what you’re talk—”
“I do,” you stated firmly. Your lashes lifted and found his narrowed scrutiny. Unconsciously, his hands rested on your waist, molding to your curves. “I’ve known for a while now. It didn’t click in until you moved out. I swear Toji, it was like I couldn’t breathe without you.” 
“Baby . . . ” 
“I want you,” you confessed in a hushed tone, your fingers tracing the lines of his broad shoulders, then up to the sturdy column of his neck where his pulsing veins hinted at his emotions. “I know I seem desperate, but I don’t care. You’re not hers anymore. You were never hers.” 
“Y/N—”
“Please, Toji. Please, just touch me.” You tilted your head to plant a tender kiss on the sharp angle of his jawline. His faint stubble grazed against your lips as you continued to pepper kisses, stopping just short of his mouth. “Forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest, they say.”
Toji tightly shut his eyes and took slow breaths through his nose, his inner turmoil evident in the way his head moved back and forth. Your lips traced gentle paths around his face, savoring the closeness and the rush of emotions it brought. Even if he rejected you, you would find solace in knowing you had expressed your love for the man who was once your stepfather. This night might mark the end of your time together, but it also freed you from the burden of hiding your feelings.. 
“Baby,” Toji whispered, gently caressing your cheek as he drew you closer. “You sure you want this?” 
“Yes.” 
“You know how risky this is, kid. We can’t just ignore the consequences.” 
“I know, Toji.” You leaned closer, your breath mingling with his. “But I can’t ignore how I feel about you either. I want this. I want you. I want all of you. You can do whatever you want to me. I promise I can take it.” 
Toji licked his lips and ran his fingers through his hair. “Fuck. Okay. Your mom—”
“She won’t know. I’m planning on moving out soon.” You dragged your hand up and down his soft, bare chest. “I should’ve moved out with you.” 
Toji took your hand in his and pressed a tender kiss to the center of your palm. “I don’t think I have any condoms on me.” 
“I’m on the pill.” 
His eyes narrowed on you. “You’ve been fucking around? Does your mom know?” 
“Hey, I had to have a little fun. Gain a little experience for this inevitable night.” Your infectious smile rubbed off on him and he enveloped you in his arms. 
“I fuck hard.” 
“Good.” 
“Last chance.” 
“Nope.” 
Toji rose on his feet, supporting your bottom with his hands as he took you to his bedroom. He laid you down on his bed, the soft mattress absorbing the weight with a slight bounce. “Fucking knew you had a little crush on me.” He clambered onto your body and held your jaw with his hand. “Tell me, sweetheart, did you touch yourself thinking of me?” 
“Every single night. Whether it’s in the shower or my bedroom,” you replied, feigning a pout and raising your hand. “I’m starting to think I’ve developed carpal tunnel from all of it.”
Toji laughed, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face with his calloused fingers. But as his laughter faded into a knowing smirk, his next words sent a jolt through you, leaving your legs weak and your heart racing. “Yeah. Me, too.” 
“Really?” 
He answered by colliding his lips against yours. It was a brutal kiss. Pain and pleasure mingled together in a heated embrace. His tongue shoved deep into your mouth, exploring the source of your daring words. 
Pulling away momentarily, he squeezed your cheeks and sucked on your tongue like it was a delicious treat. “Gonna spit in your mouth.” 
“Mm-hmm.” 
Toji’s cheeks sucked in as he gathered his spit and spat it right onto your tongue. “Swallow.” 
You did, moaning as his warm saliva traveled down your throat. “You taste minty.”
“I was just about to crash before your demanding ass showed up,” he teased.
“Well, you should thank me then.” You planted a quick kiss on his nose.
Toji leaned in and kissed you deeply, tugging on your bottom lip and trailing his moist lips down to your neck. “You smell so good, baby.” 
“I’m wearing the perfume you bought me.” 
“You better fucking be. Do you know how much I get off on spoiling you?” His teeth bit your delicate flesh and pulled, making you whimper from the stinging pain. He sucked and bit on different areas of your neck, marking you with his love bites. He then helped you out of the dress and pressed you back on the mattress. “Knew you weren’t wearing a bra.” 
“No,” you said sarcastically. 
“Yeah,” he said, missing the teasing in your voice, “your nipples were in my face when we were talking.” He rounded his tongue around your areola. Gathering your breasts in both hands, Toji switched between suckling at your nipples, biting the sensitive bud that sent jerks in your body, and licking the burning pain. “I saw you undressing once. You know that?” 
You lifted a brow. “Uh, when?” And why didn't he do anything about it?
“You left your bedroom a bit open. I came to call you for dinner and instead feasted on the sight of your perky ass and these sexy tits.” He left your nipples numb and discolored from his teeth’s abuse. “You think you’re the only one who got off in that house? No, baby. Not at all. I was in the room right next to you, jerking off to your voice, or your smell.” This time, he kissed you gently and then each of your shoulders. “I had it worse. I had it so much worse.” 
“Toji . . . ”
“But you’re here now, and so am I. I’m not fucking leaving. You got that? You’re mine. You’ve always been mine.” 
“Yours,” you whispered. “God, Toji, I’m yours. I’m yours.” 
Toji removed his sweatpants and boxers, giving you a glorious display of his long, thick cock, corded with veins, sprouted up and proud. You had him like that, and so you gave yourself a mental pat on the back. “Like what you see?” 
“Yes,” you said, chuckling in disbelief at the anatomy of him. A surge of confidence washed over you. You slipped off your panties and spread out your legs, shaking your hair back from your face. “Like what you see?” 
Toji gleamed at the wetness pooled between your legs, soaking his sheets underneath, sticky and hot. Something feral rattled inside him. He gripped your knees and pried them farther apart, sinking in between. 
“Oh, fuck, fuck! Toji—ah!” Your back arched in ecstasy, fingers gripping his scalp as he ruthlessly ate you out. His large palm held your hips in place, nibbling and sucking at your quivering, swollen clit. “Toji, yes, yes, fuck. Right there. Fuck, fuck, fuck!” 
You grinded against him with full power, pushing your pussy closer to his mouth. He drank your leaking juices, drove his skilled tongue into your tight entrance, and discovered the sweet, cry-worthy spots inside you.
Soon, he replaced his tongue with three fingers, plunging them deep inside you with a rough and unrelenting pace that sent shivers down your spine. His deep growls were the icing on top. 
Tears streamed down your cheeks as the bed creaked beneath you. He was exorcising your damn soul out of your body with his holy tongue and his blessed fingers.
“Ah!” You came down like a fucking waterfall and Toji stood with an open mouth, drinking in your essence, lapping at your cunt like a starved dog, cleaning you as best as he could. 
You gasped for air, clutching your chest as you coughed or laughed or wheezed—hard to tell which. You felt weightless, incredibly sore, teetering on the edge of passing out.
“Toji . . . am I dead?”
His laughter echoed nearby, then drew nearer until his face came into focus through your haze. “Your pussy tastes just as delicious as your mouth, baby.” 
He kissed you and gave you a hint of your release. Toji was a moaner—a loud one—as he sucked on your tongue, pulling it into his mouth. Your eyes rolled to the back of your skull as he spit onto your tongue again, and ran his own coarse one over your palette.
You closed your mouth and pushed him back by his shoulders. “Let me touch you.” 
“Yeah? You want to suck me off, too?” 
“Yes, fuck. Please, Toji. Please let me suck your cock.” Your begging made him grunt as he got up on his knees. He moved closer, placing them firmly beside your hips. You sat up against the headboard, gripping his warm, aroused cock, while he entwined your hair around his hand, gaining control over your movements.
You looked up at his smirk and kissed his moist tip, savoring the salty taste. Goosebumps formed on your skin at the idea of taking him deeper into your mouth. It would definitely challenge your gag reflex, but if this was going to be a regular thing, you needed to practice.
“Part your lips for me, kid. Nice and wide. That’s it.”
“Yes, Daddy.” You winked at Toji’s alarmed expression. Oh, how you loved catching him off-guard by acting out of character. “You got a daddy kink, Toji?” You brushed your lips from the base to the head, swirling your tongue around the rim. “Since you love calling me kid, maybe I should start calling you daddy. Isn’t that what you were?” 
“You got a dirty mouth on you, kid.” 
“Learned it from my daddy.”  
Toji hissed through his teeth as you nibbled his tip. “Not dirty enough.” He gripped his length and forced it past your lips. Your nails plunged into his hips, gagging and shaking as he sunk past your uvula. “About time I fucked your smartass mouth with my cock, baby. Be a good girl and don’t tap out until I’ve come down your throat.” 
You closed your eyes briefly, gathering your resolve before meeting his gaze again with a playful glint. You weren’t entirely sure where this was going, but you were determined not to back down now. So, with a mischievous wink, you silently accepted the challenge.
Toji thrusted his hips back and forth, shoving his girth in and out without giving you space to breathe.
“That’s it, baby. That’s it. Fuck, you’re so good at sucking your daddy’s cock,” he groaned, his hands gently gripping your hair or caressing your cheek in a way that contrasted sharply with his dominant actions.
“My pretty whore.”
Thrust.
“My gorgeous girl.” 
Thrust.
“You belong to me, baby.” 
Thrust, thrust, thrust. 
He was a complete monster with you. 
Your face pressed against his pelvis, the brush of his happy trail tickling your nose. You knew from experience that most men came quicker if you fondled their balls. You squeezed his heavy, swollen sacs, making him hiss and violate your throat.
Toji couldn’t hold back. His release came with a roar, numbing your scalp from how tightly he was pulling on it. The thin ropes of his release and your saliva formed as he pulled out. You swallowed whatever was left around your mouth. To please him further, as if assaulting your throat wasn’t enough, you lapped at his tip like a devoted kitten. “You’re so good to me, baby.” 
That’s all you wanted to hear. 
“Turn around,” he commanded, and without hesitation, you dropped to your knees, arching your back to present yourself to him. “What a sight.” His hand glided over your left ass cheek tenderly before delivering a firm smack that made you jolt forward. Toji mirrored the action on your right cheek, preparing you while coating the tip of his cock with slickness from your own arousal. “Gonna put it in now, sweetheart.” 
“Finally, Jesus.” 
Toji spanked your ass which only elicited a giggle out of you. “Let’s see if you’ll be laughing soon, baby.” 
He pushed into you in one-quick go. 
You cried out and grabbed the top of the headboard with your sweaty palms. He pulled out just to the hilt then drove back in. The air smelled like your sweat and perfume and sex. Every nerve in your body was alive, your heart pounding fiercely as if trying to escape your chest. Your face flushed with heat, your blood singing with desire.
You moaned and cried and screamed his name, driving him to complete madness with the word “Daddy.” You begged him to go faster, push harder, to have you sore for weeks so you didn’t have to get out of his bed, out of his arms, out of his home. You wanted this to be your home. 
Toji spanked your ass repeatedly, skin slapping against skin, palming the back of your head so that your face was crushed on his pillow. It smelled like firewood. Smelled like him. You wanted to steal it, take it home, sleep with it, ride it while whispering his name. 
You both came together. 
Toji’s hot seed filled your stretched hole. He withdrew slowly, a teasing sensation that left you craving more. With deft fingers, he ensured not a drop was wasted. 
You collapsed onto your stomach, catching your breath before summoning the strength to turn and face him.
He exhaled heavily, laying beside you “Fuck, that was . . .” 
“Yeah.” 
“Oh, yeah.” 
“Best yeah.” You draped yourself onto his chest and kissed his chin. He massaged his fingers through your throbbing scalp, the other hand caressing your numb, bruised ass. 
Toji twirled a strand of your hair around his finger. “Does this make-up for missing your graduation?” 
You flicked his forehead. “I haven’t forgiven you for that.” 
“Maybe I should miss more of your events if this is the reward I’m gonna get.” 
You scowled. “I dare you to repeat that again.” 
Toji ironed out your scowl with his thumb. You kissed the pad of his rough finger, twice. “My cards are on the table for you, sweetheart.” 
Your lips met his, whispering, “I folded a while ago, Daddy.” 
“Fuck,” he breathed out. With a swift motion, he flipped you onto your back, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. “Round two, kid.” 
2K notes · View notes
puckinghischier · 19 days
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Locksmith - Nico Hischier
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nico hischier x fem!reader, jack hughes x platonic!reader, luke hughes x platonic!reader
summary: reader has been friends with the hughes brothers for years, and when she finally arrives in Jersey to move in with her best friends, she finds herself locked out and stuck in the hallway, with only the neighbor to save her
notes: this is my first time ever writing ANYTHING, so this could be terrible. BUT it’s really only a peek at where i want the story to go so possible series if anyone actually wants to read it??? 🫣
part 2, part 3
[2.4k]
~
You know, three suitcases didn’t seem like enough when you were packing, but trying to roll three suitcases down the long, carpeted hallway is proving to be one of the most difficult tasks you’ve ever had to do in your life. Seriously, the building didn’t look this long from the outside.
After a trek that felt like miles, you reach the door you’ve been scanning for, only to find it locked tight. “I swear to god I’m literally going to kill them,” you said to yourself out loud. “They tell the doorman to let me in, have me bring all this luggage up by myself, only to leave the fucking door locked. Why did I expect anything less?”
Grabbing your phone, you dial Jack’s number, silently begging him to pick up. You know he’s at a charity thing with Luke, but surely he’s allowed to answer his phone, right? Wrong. His phone goes straight to voicemail, twice. Classic Jack. You know there’s not any point to calling Luke, he always leaves his phone during charity events in order to connect with the kids better. Usually you find that endearing and admirable, but right now you wish that he was maybe just a bit more selfish.
“Well, I guess I live in the hallway now. Hope the carpet is plush enough to sleep on.” You’ve always had a habit of talking out loud to yourself when you’re nervous or, in this case, annoyed. It helps you work through your thoughts and not dwell on anything for too long. Purges your emotions a bit.
“Trust me, it’s not. Speaking from experience here, you’d be much better off sleeping on the couches in the lobby” a voice startles you.
“Oh my god,” you jumped. You turned around to see the door to the apartment behind you wide open, a dark haired man leaning against the doorway, smile on his face.
“I- how long have you been standing there?” you asked, hand on you chest trying to calm your racing heart.
“Long enough to know you’re thinking about sleeping on the carpet, not long enough to know why” he states, humor lacing his tone.
“Well, if you must know, my roommates left the door locked, no spare key, and won’t answer their phones. So, until they get home, the hallway is my new bedroom,” you surveyed the stranger.
He was tall, much taller than you were. He wore a simple white t-shirt, black sweatpants, and a backwards cap on his head, hiding what looked like hair that was in need of a trim, based on how much it was spilling out the sides of the cap. But what made you stop in your tracks were his eyes. You don’t think you had ever truly understood the phrase ‘warm eyes’ until now. They were the most spectacular shade of brown you had ever seen in your life. And they were filled with amusement. Amusement directed towards you, since he had just heard you talking to yourself like a madwoman.
“Ahh, you must be y/n! I thought Jack said you weren’t coming until tomorrow?” He asked, understanding washing over his face.
“I caught an earlier flight and was going to surprise them. However, Jack texted me earlier this morning and told me he and Luke had to go to a charity skate, so I had to tell them I was coming early. He told me he’d leave the door unlocked so I could go ahead and settle in, but, as you can see, they did not,” you explained, only slightly shocked Jack told his neighbor about you. That boy sure liked to talk, yapping anyone’s ear off who would listen.
“Well, lucky for you, I happen to have a spare key you can use” the stranger tells you, walking out of your view for a brief moment.
“Should I be concerned that Jack’s neighbor has a spare key? Does he just go around handing out spares left and right?” you ask, starting to feel a bit awkward among all of your luggage.
“No, not exactly” the man laughs. “He gave me a spare after one too many nights of me hauling him home from the bar only to realize he didn’t have his key with him.”
He walks out of his apartment, a small golden key in hand. The stranger, whose name you forgot to ask, unlocks the door and stands back with a warm smile on his face.
“There, you just got upgraded to a real bedroom” he recalls, standing in the now open doorway.
“I would say thank you, but I’m still a little concerned that a strange man just had to let me into my own apartment” you (semi) joke, attempting to gather your suitcases.
“I’m Nico” he explains, taking the suitcase you were struggling to heave into the apartment.
“Oh, you’re the captain!” you exclaim, recalling all the times Jack and Luke had talked about their beloved leader to you. “Jack never mentioned you lived next door!”
“That’s me. I only just moved in about a week ago. Was looking for a place closer to the rink and Jack told me about his previous neighbors moving out, so I decided to move in. Nice having them just across the hall. They’re like the little brothers I never had” Nico pronounces brothers like ‘brudders’. You nearly forgot Jack had mentioned he was from Switzerland, too distracted to have picked up on his accent before now.
“Yeah, they seem to have that effect on people, huh?” you understood the sentiment behind Nico’s words all too well.
You’ve known Jack, Luke, and Quinn since you were all kids. Your family owned the lake house next to theirs when you were growing up. You spent every summer with them up until Quinn got drafted to the Canucks a few years back. Then Jack to the Devils, then Luke following Jack. Your families grew incredibly close to one another over the years. Trips to visit the other outside of the summer months became a regular occurrence. Trips to watch their hockey games, traveling to watch Luke play college hockey, and attending their drafts. These three were the brothers you never had but always wanted. They treated you like their own sister from the very start.
“They especially have the annoying aspect of younger brothers perfected,” Nico replied, both of you fully inside your new apartment now.
“God, don’t I know it,” you laughed.
Looking up, you finally took in your new home. Geez, this place is nice. It shouldn’t surprise you, really, with how much Jack and Luke both make, but the apartment is like, really nice. Definitely out of your price range, by likely a couple thousand dollars. You suddenly feel bad that Jack refused to let you pay any share of the rent. You had fought him on it, several times. He insisted that they had the spare bedroom anyways, and they had no trouble making rent as is. You insisted that you contribute in some way, so you were now tasked with grocery shopping and cooking for two professional hockey players. Honestly, after seeing the meal plans the team nutritionist gave them, it might be a fair trade.
It's only as you look over towards the kitchen at the thought of having to go grocery shopping soon, you realize Nico is still there. He’s just standing, watching you take in your surroundings, lost in your own thoughts.
“Well, thanks for not letting me waste away in the hallway. And helping me with my luggage. I think someone from TSA filled my suitcases with rocks or something. I swear it didn’t seem like I had that much stuff when I left home” you explain, feeling a little awkward that he was just standing there, not knowing what else to say to the stranger.
“No problem, seriously. I feel like I’m over here more than I’m at my own apartment anyways. Jack is always calling me to come over, or insisting that we have to watch game film together after practice. It’s a little concerning how obsessed he is with hockey. I mean, I’m the captain of the team and I feel like I spend less time thinking about work than he does,” Nico chuckles, not seeming to share the same feelings of awkwardness you have.
“God, don’t even get me started. I’ve had to listen to him ramble on and on about hockey for years. I’m just glad someone else finally understands my pain.”
“You know, the only other subject he seems to talk about just as much as hockey is you. And his family, but according to him the two are one in the same. Every time I’ve seen him this week, which is nearly every day, he’s updated me on the countdown to when you were set to arrive. He’s seriously excited to have you here. They both are. It’s nice to finally put a face to the name,” Nico catches you off guard.
You and Jack had always been the closest out of the three brothers. With your age falling directly in-between Quinn and Jack, you and Jack had the most common interests as a kid. Quinn was always trying to be the grown one, not concerning himself with whatever you and Jack were interested in while growing up. As teens, Quinn was always training, or going off by himself to do who knows what, and Luke was still slightly too young to go off with you and Jack alone, so it was usually just the two of you embarking on your own little adventures on those summer days. Once Jack got his boating license neither of your parents would let Luke go out on the water without them, so more often than not, you and Jack would take the boat to God knows where in the middle of the lake and spend the whole day, not returning until after dark. Those days were your favorite to think back on. The conversations between you and Jack never ceased to flow. From hockey, to your boy troubles back home, to whatever girl Jack wanted to impress that summer, to what your lives would look like one day, to always vowing to be in each other’s lives, even if he became a big shot hockey player that lived on the other side of the world.
“Yeah, well, he always has been the sentimental type, no matter how hard he tries to deny it,” you chuckle, a fond smile finding its way onto your face.
“Well, I guess I’ll be seeing you around, y/n. If you ever find yourself faced with sleeping in the hallway again, you know where to find me,” Nico jokes, dropping his eye into a wink, walking over to the door and opening it once again.
“Thank goodness someone around here understands the severity of the situation at hand. Me and my back thank you,” you wave your arms around for dramatic effect, walking to take hold of the open door as he steps into the hallway and back into his own doorway.
“Welcome to Jersey. We’re glad to have you here,” Nico turns to face you after he’s back in his own apartment, a genuine smile settled on his face.
“Thanks, cap. It’s good to be here,” you respond matching his smile, thinking of how well it suits him.
———————————————————————————
“Y/n!!!! Where are you!?” you hear, currently elbow deep in suitcase number two, trying your hardest to unpack everything. You really don’t know how you managed to fit so much clothing in three suitcases. Or how you ended up with so many clothes to begin with. You stand up and start making your way to the door of your bedroom, hand on the doorknob as it flies open, revealing a very excited looking Jack and Luke. You suddenly feel your body flying forward, face hitting a clothed shoulder
“Ow! Jack, that was my nose!” you tried to say, but everything was muffled because of how tight your body was being held in place. Seriously, he acts like he hadn’t seen you in years. You were literally here a few months ago to visit and arrange plans to move in. Leave it to Jack to always bring the dramatics.
“Just a few more seconds, I missed you,” he mumbles, squeezing even tighter, if that was even possible.
“Jack, no fair! Quit hogging her, I missed her too!”
“Luke, please save me. I might suffocate soon if he doesn’t let go,” you beg the younger brother.
“Oh my god, will you two quit being dramatic, can’t a man be excited his best friend is finally moving in after months of waiting?” Jack whines as he releases his hold on you.
“No one said you couldn’t be excited, Rowdy, but suffocating me two minutes into living together might not be the best way to show your excitement” you say, smoothing out your sweatshirt and making your way towards the open arms of the younger, yet much larger brother.
“Oh Moose, how have you been? Have you been getting enough sleep?” You question, always worried about his wellbeing, especially these past few weeks.
“Yeah, m’alright. A little tired, but we have some home games lined up soon. I’ll catch up on sleep then,” he responds, squeezing you a little tighter at the end of his sentence.
Luke’s rookie year has been a rollercoaster not only for him, but for you as well. You worry about the youngest Hughes, having such a soft spot for the boy. You know he’s talented, and you know he’ll do well, but you can see the exhaustion on his face and in his actions. You know he carries the weight of the foul comments he receives about his gameplay, and you try your hardest to take some of it off of his shoulders.
“Alright, but now that I’m here just know I’ll be holding you to that,” a stern look on your face.
Turning back around towards Jack, you find him surveying your room, looking over the mess you created in the few hours it took for them to return home.
“So, are you going to spend the rest of the day unpacking, or can we go have some fun and celebrate the fact that you live in the New Jersey now?” Jack spoke, looking at the pictures you decided to display, most of them pictures of you and the brothers throughout the years.
“I mean, I was hoping to get as much done today as I can, but I’m guessing you’ve already made plans, huh?”
“You would be correct. We’re leaving at 8, be ready” is all Jack says, before dragging Luke out of your room.
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slushycoookie · 2 months
Text
My Husband Has a Symbiote! Pt. 2
Pt.1 - Pt.2
Relationship: Symbiote! Miguel O'Hara x AFAB! Reader
Word Count: 2,804
Content: Smut, p in v, vaginal fingering, Miguel gets choked, Reader can't go ten minutes without being railed, MINORS DNI!
Summary: You try to have a serious conversation about the symbiote Miguel has, but it doesn't really work.
A/N: I'm having so much fun with this, don't mind me. Also, you guys really liked the first part, so here's some more!
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After the most wonderful sex you had in your life, you had to get a grip.
It couldn't happen again. Having sex with an alien that your husband bonded with. You were still trying to understand why using a symbiote was the best action out of everything else. You all could try the normal way. Without taking extreme measures. Or, in your case, out-of-this-world ones. That's what you decided to do getting up this morning.
You took your time putting on clothes, your legs wobbling as you stood. You smelled the strong scent of coffee while traversing to the kitchen. Only to get a view of your husband's gorgeous back. 
“Good morning.” Miguel handed you a cup of coffee as a peace offering. As you took it, you tried not to get distracted by his hairy chest and arms. Or how his sweatpants hung low around his waist. 
“Good morning.” You smiled against your cup, “Sleep well?”
He nodded, matching your smile. “Did you?”
“Yeah.” Your eyes darted around his form. No clear view of his new symbiote. Unless he put it in a bottle. “Where is it? Or them?”
Miguel rubbed the back of his neck, “They're still here.” Just then, his new best friend appeared. Only its head, sporting your partner's signature blue and red colors. Its smile and tongue gave you flashbacks of how that was on your lower half last night. Taking exceptionally good care of you. You squeezed your thighs again to ignore the arousal.
“Pretty thing.” A weird form of greeting they uttered before disappearing.
“We should definitely talk about that. In-depth.” You settled your cup down.
Miguel did the same, standing beside you. “What's more to talk about? I told you why I got one.”
“And I understood that.” You sighed, “But that can't happen again. We should try like normal people. Go see a doctor, try more sex positions…”
He chuckled, wrapping an arm around your waist and holding you close. “We're not normal people.”
“I know.” You let out a slight laugh, “But I think it's best to-”
“Did you not enjoy last night?” 
Your heartbeat picked up. His eyes were lowered, gazing at you with an emotion you knew all too well. It didn't help that he smelled so good. Hints of ginger mixed with the fresh coffee hugged your senses. Or the way his rugged arms held you up last night while thrusting into you. “I did-”
He stole a kiss. Stopping you from regretting anything that occurred last night. You started making out in the kitchen, absorbed in the bitter coffee taste. Which somehow turned into you getting destroyed from behind. Miguel's symbiote form pressed against your back, body rutting into you. His ginormous hands covered the countertops. Little cracks formed with each thrust he took. You couldn't be upset about the destruction of your kitchen. You didn't want him to stop.
“You deserve to have our children…” That deep voice resonated in the room, causing you to shiver. 
“Don’t say that…” You whimpered, pressing your ass back against him. A territorial growl emitted from behind and he went harder. Pounding into you until you screamed his name.
Everything was a mess. 
The countertops were damaged, coffee spilled on the floor along with the broken pieces from your mugs. And a sticky, warm substance was sliding down your thighs. Miguel’s normal hand reached down and scooped up whatever was coming out. Pushing it back in to make sure it didn't go to waste. All while he kissed your head.
You couldn't even talk to him about the symbiote in the room. Whenever you tried to bring up getting rid of it, somehow you were on your back, side, bent over or on top. Taking your partner's cock like a champ. Getting full of his seed. And at the end of it, feeling completely satisfied. 
You ranted to MJ and Jess when you all went out for lunch at a café. It's been a week of Miguel using you like his own sex toy.
“All I heard is that you've been getting some.” Jess remarked while sipping on her drink. “And you're complaining about it.”
“Because he's distracting me! So I don't tell him to get rid of it!” You buried your face in your hands.
“Well…how big is it?” Mj asked, eyes wide with genuine curiosity. 
You raised a brow as your cheeks turned dark. “I shouldn't tell you that.”
“You look the way you did when you came back from your honeymoon.” Jess noticed your body practically glowing from all the sex you were having. “We gotta know how good it is.”
The table they were sitting at was rectangular in shape. Long enough for you to show them how big Miguel was with his symbiote. Which was almost half of the table. 
“Whoa.” Mj gawked at the description. “And tell me why you're complaining again.”
You rolled your eyes, “Symbiotes are dangerous! I don't want him to get obsessed with it all because of a problem I have.” You turned to Jess, “Shouldn't you be agreeing with me here? Didn't you have a symbiote?”
Jess waved you away, “No, because I'm too smart not to put myself through that.” You purse your lips as the Spider-Woman kept going. “They are dangerous, but only if they don't have a decent relationship with who they're attached to.”
“Yeah, Peter was very different when he had it.” Mj explained, twirling her drink around with a straw. “First he was energized and then snippy. He couldn’t part with it until he had a wake-up call that it was destroying our relationship. It was scary.”
That's what you were worried about. Your partner turning into someone you couldn't recognize. You weren't scared of him but for him.
“You know you can say no, right?” Jess said before getting a mischievous glint in her eye. “But you don't want to. The sex is that good, huh?”
You gasped at her accusation, “You are…absolutely right.” Your friends sympathized with you, “But we need to talk…”
You had to come up with a plan. A way so you could talk without having his cock buried inside you. You decided to visit him at HQ, trying to look as unattractive as possible with a hoodie and sweatpants. Being married to the leader of Spider Society had its perks. One of them was looking into mission distribution. You noticed the teen dream, which you called Miles, Gwen, Pavitr, Hobie, and Margo, going to report to Miguel that day. You couldn't barge in when he spoke to Peter. He'd have Mayday with him, adding more fuel to the fire. Or any reports with Ben because Miguel would get jealous and sex would ensue. A bunch of teens on the other hand was perfect.
You approached the group as they were about to make their way into his lab.
“Hey!” Miles greeted with open arms, “What brings you here?”
“Oh, I need to talk to Miguel about something.” You waved it off, not deeming it as important. 
“Trouble in paradise?” Hobie said with a smirk, causing you to shake your head.
“No, no. It's just about the symbiote. You guys think it's weird, right? That he's using it?”
“Actually,” Gwen took over, “some of our people have had success stories in using it. Like me, for example.”
You stared at the girl, surprised. “What? You had a good relationship with one of those things?”
“Yeah. It's no big deal.” Gwen shrugged it off. The entire time they were slowly making their way inside his lab. Going past his equipment in the darkness.
Pavitr jumped on her back, “She says it's no big deal. Like a boss.”
“That's Gwendy for ya.” Hobie winked at her.
“Guys, it really isn't a big deal. Symbiote relationships can be symbiotic. It depends on the person and who they connect with. It could make them better or worse.” 
Everyone blinked at Gwen's explanation. Your knowledge of her connection with the alien made you pause. Was it possible for Miguel to have a healthy relationship with the thing? Were you stressing yourself out worrying about him?
“Miguel has been getting better lately.” Miles cut in.
“Yeah, at first he was moody, but then he gave me the day off so I could play a new game that came out.” Margo added. “He never lets me take the day off for video games.”
You hummed. Sure, his mood was getting better, but they still had to talk. You didn't want to assume everything was okay until they at least spoke about it.
Inside the lab, the teens gave their report to Miguel. The entire time he stood high on his platform, nodding to everything they were saying. Once in a while, he’d glance at you, a trace of intrigue, like he wanted to talk. Or breed you before getting back to work. You couldn’t relax seeing him in his typical suit. The symbiote was still attached to him, just not present. 
“Good work.” Miguel complimented, “Now, my partner needs to speak to me about something.”
You perked up, shaking your head. “They can stay, it’s not that important-”
“I’d rather they didn’t.” His stare shot through your body. It was hard but yet filled with increasing lust. All you did was walk in the room. 
The teens walked past you, shooting apologizing looks. Hobie’s face was amused, giving a reassuring pat on the back before whispering in your ear. “Don’t rough ‘im up too much.”
Miguel called you to his platform. You made your way across, trying to devise a quick game plan as your current one backfired. You placed yourself on the other side to create as much distance as possible. You heard him command Lyla to lock the lab so no one could get in. You took a deep breath to stabilize your beating heart. 
“Why are you over there?”
You shot him a glare, “You know why.”
“Do I?” Miguel tilted his head in question. A rumbling chuckle filled your body when you tsked. He stood on the other end, not making any moves to get closer. Yet his eyes were trailing down your covered body. Picturing himself peeling every layer off of you. “I like your outfit today.”
You saw him take one step closer and you had to straighten yourself. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” Another step and you cleared your throat. You could see yourself being bent over that console if the conversation kept up like this. 
“Look, we really need to talk about this symbiote.” Miguel hummed, partially listening. As he took another step, you pressed yourself back against the console. Realizing you couldn’t get further back, you raised a harsh pointer finger towards him. “Miguel.”
“I’m listening, preciosa.” He paused, that same look of hunger in his eyes. 
“Are you? Do you see yourself right now?” You watched him take another step. 
Miguel snorted, “Do you see yourself right now? You’re so sexy. I can’t believe I married you.” 
He closed the gap, one hand on the console behind you. You placed your hands on his chest. At first, it was to try to create some distance, but the hardened muscle under your palms made you reconsider. Those same pectorals you've always felt and pressed up against. Your hands had a mind of their own, running along them. The corner of Miguel’s lips curled up in amusement. 
“You still wanna talk?” He picked you up and placed you on the console. His other hand placed against your lower back, pressing your entire body against his chest. Your resolve was dwindling as he gazed at you. “Or do you want to be bred?”
That’s how you ended up the way you were now. Clothes removed, thrown who knows where in his lab. Legs spread while his gigantic finger pumped into and out of you. Miguel’s symbiote form took over, drooling while watching you take him in easily. You whined while clutching his arm. Small sopping sounds fill your ears. 
A gasp escaped your lips when a second digit entered you. Your back arching at the beautiful friction. How his fingers knew where to touch inside. A satisfied growl erupted from Miguel, mouth wide as his tongue glided across your pleasure-fixed face. 
“Pretty thing. So obedient…” His thumb pressed against your clit. Your nails dug into his sticky skin at the additional sensation. Not wanting him to stop for a second as that familiar burning feeling started to rise. It pooled in your stomach before spreading up and over your body. Miguel didn’t care when you screamed for him in his lab, letting all the spiders know he was pleasing his partner. 
You panted, leaning back a little on the console when his fingers were gone. The familiar sight of his large cock came into view, ready to go in. A rush of clarity filled your mind as you stopped him. He gave you a look in question.
“Lemme be on top.”
Miguel grinned, eyes lighting up with intrigue. “Oh? Pretty little thing wants to bounce?” 
Before you could nod in confirmation, he sat down. Back pressed along the console. Goosebumps formed, feeling the cool steel amongst your feet. You licked your lips, watching your partner observe you. Dark blue cock aching to be inside. You hovered over him, stabilizing yourself by touching his shoulders. Before sinking down. 
Each time Miguel’s cock entered you, it was always as if it was the first time. After a couple of thrusts, You always lost your ability to think straight. Only taking what Miguel gave you. This time was going to be different. 
A moan escaped you, getting used to the feeling before raising your hips again. Before slamming back down on him. His eyes lowered at the sight of his partner fucking yourself on his shaft. Even though Miguel took over most of the time during sex, You had your moments of being the one to make him quiver under your touch. While fucking the symbiote, it was still affected by things that made regular Miguel whine. So you went slow, sliding up and down at an antagonizing pace. Even for you. But you needed to get your point across. Miguel’s hands hovered by your hips, ready to have you pick up the pace. Only for you to use one hand to grip his thick throat. 
His eyes went wide at the sudden action, your tiny hand doing your best to choke him out. “Pretty thing wants to get rough?”
“You like it rough.” You quipped back, still rolling your hips on him. Miguel growled at the sensation before latching his hand on his arm.
“We do.”
It happened in an instant, the symbiote tendrils curling around the lower half of your arm, coating it the signature blue. You felt stronger. Enough to grip his neck tighter. You also picked up the pace, bouncing in a way to drive him crazy. If you could see Miguel’s face, you knew his eyes would be rolled back, while his hips thrusted up in unison with your bounces. 
“L-Let me…speak to him…”
“You are.” The symbiote’s chest heaved, almost succumbing to the intoxicating sensation. 
You shook your head, a whimper coming out as you hit a spot that was too good. “No. I wanna…see him…” Miguel’s face appeared, pleasure permeating his dazed face. If there were any other moment, you wouldn’t stop, help him chase his fucked out high. But not right now. You slowed down, earning a cry from Miguel. 
“N-No. Don’t stop, mi amor.” 
“Listen to me first…” Your pace was torture as you sunk down enough to provide pleasure still. In this position, Miguel was susceptible to agree to anything as long as he made sure he released inside you. “We’re gonna have a conversation about this thing.”
“Okay, okay. We will. Now let’s-” A strangled moan escaped him when you squeezed his neck.
“I’m serious, Miguel. If we end up like this again without talking, you’re not coming back home.” You stared right into his eyes, serious while clouded with pleasure. Miguel stared right back, taking in that you meant every word. You didn’t like it had to come to this, but it would put you at ease if you two talked about it. 
He nodded, taking your words to heart. “Okay.”
With that, your pace picked up again. You bounced on his cock with vigor, hand removed from his throat and back to his shoulders. Miguel’s hands were on your hips as he fucked up into you to meet your own. Both were extraordinarily loud in the lab. Neither cared as they went to chase the high together. A mix of grunts and moans spread amongst the atmosphere. 
Then, a comfortable silence took its place.
762 notes · View notes
moonlinos · 3 months
Text
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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tsimvkas · 2 months
Text
you deserve better — mason mount
A/N: hiii 👋🏻 so this one is specially to my love @raremasey, thank you for trusting me with your brilliant idea and for being soooo patient with me and my slow ass, im not sure if the angst is angsting but i hope you like it 💞
word count: 8.3k | masterlist
content: depressed!mase, mental health issues, miscommunication, angst & fluffy end
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“You’re breaking up with me?” you asked, confused.
You had just returned from the grocery shop when Mason told you he wanted to talk. You were surprised he was awake, lately your boyfriend was often so tired he would come back from training and sleep until he had to leave again, so you should’ve assumed that what was coming wasn’t good.
“It’s not like this” he muttered. “I just want us to take a break”
You laughed sarcastically, not knowing how to deal with what you were feeling.
“A break? Wow. What the fuck do you mean, Mason?”
“This is for the best, Y/N” Mason sighed, looking tired. “I want the best for you”
“For the best? Oh my God, I just moved in with you. I left everything behind. I have no friends here, I have no job. I followed you because Manchester was what you needed, and you’re asking me for a break?” you laughed again, trying to hold the tears.
After two years dating Mason, seeing the man you love in the verge of tears asking you for a break was the last thing you expected to see when you just moved together.
“You don’t get it” he rested his face on his hands, breathing deeply. He knows you wouldn't understand — you’re not inside his messy mind. But he wished you could at least believe he would always do what’s best for you, and right now he’s not. Right now, he’s the worst person you could have by your side.
“You’re right, I don’t. I don’t get why the man I love is standing in front of me telling me he doesn’t want me anymore” you felt a single hot tear spilling down your face and cleaned it aggressively. “That I’m not the woman he loves anymore”
“It’s not like that, Y/N! Please… of course I still want you, and that’s why I’m doing this. I’m sorry that I don’t know how to explain”
You frowned, not believing that he was telling you he loves you while breaking up with you. You felt pathetic.
“There’s no need. I’ll just need a few days so I can get my things” you kept holding your tears, trying to show you had everything handled.
Mason’s face dropped, and even though you didn’t notice, his hands were shaking.
“You don’t- you can stay here. I wouldn’t ask you to leave, you moved with me. This house is yours too” he tried to change your mind and you laughed sarcastically at his words.
“This house is anything but mine”
“You don’t need to spend money moving somewhere else, please, stay”
“What the hell, Mason? Do you want me to move to the guest room? Want me to be your distant cousin when you start bringing girls here?” you exploded, screaming and pointing him a finger.
“I would never” he shook his head. “I would never bring anyone here”
“Right, so you want me to stay here to hear when you come back drunk after you fucked them somewhere else”
“Y/N, this is not-”
“I’ll accept your offer whilst I see how I’ll move back to London” you interrupted him, wanting to get out of his view quickly. “Goodnight, Mason”
You didn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you crying, so as soon as you grabbed most of your stuff in his bedroom you locked yourself in the guest room and finally let your emotions take control.
What the hell has just happened?
Why did the guy you felt was your soulmate just broke up with you after two years of promising you the world?
It felt like Mason had just realised what you’ve been fearing since you’ve met: you’re not enough for him. His lifestyle doesn’t match yours, the amount of money he has, the places he needs to be.
You’re just a girl from Portsmouth, whilst Mason it’s Portsmouth’s star.
Before you could notice, you were crying loudly, strong sobs cutting your breath.
Mason knocked on the door, trying to open before realising it was locked.
“Y/N- can we talk? Please, baby”
“Don’t call me baby” you screamed at the closed door, hugging your pillow tighter. “I can’t even ask you to go away because we’re in your fucking house, the least you can do is leave me alone”
Mason felt his heart aching. In his head, the spiral of thoughts made so much more sense, but from the moment he said them out loud he knew he fucked up.
But he also knows he couldn’t take it back. You deserve more than he’s capable of offering to you right now, and he knows he can’t keep dragging you down with him.
Giving you the space you needed, he walked to his room — yous room, and tried to sleep in his cold and empty bed, but the way you were crying kept stabbing his heart.
And even though he was aware that was his fault, the need to hold you and comfort you kept him awake.
When you woke up, Mason had already left for training, and you thanked the universe for that.
You walked to the kitchen, looking for ice to help you with your puffy eyes, and something light to eat. You were still feeling nauseous and too sad to eat a proper meal, so you grabbed a few grapes and a tiny bottle of juice.
After eating, you tried to go to Mason’s room to pick up any stuff you might have left there the night before, but the vision of his door made you feel like throwing up. How the fuck you were supposed to face this whilst living in the same house as him?
Why the fuck he would ask you that?
You realised that questioning the whole thing and trying to find answers in an empty house wouldn’t help you move out quicker, so you went back to the guest room and took a shower, trying to start a fresh new day.
With your fresh set of pyjamas and your laptop, you went downstairs to grab a bottle of your favourite cold tea and sat on the couch and started looking for ways to reorganise your life.
You looked for a few jobs, so you could move as soon as possible, and also took the time to search for a few universities. When you met Mason you had just finished high school and were enjoying life a bit before going for college since your job was nice and it gave you the chance to do a lot of things.
But then, he told you about moving, and none of you wanted to be far apart so you left everything behind and followed you.
Mason never made you feel bad about moving with him without having money to help. In fact, he’d always been supportive, encouraging you to stop looking for a job and getting in college instead.
Even now, he’s not even asking for you to leave his house, always acting like what is his, it’s yours too.
But if you never felt good living on his money, then now you feel even worse.
You want a new job, and you want to go to college. And you’ll do both.
It was a tough week.
You ignored Mason, Mason tried to give you privacy, you got mad at Mason for giving you privacy because it was like he was trapped in his own house and Mason had no idea how to fix what he just broke.
Between all of it, you were still looking for a job and applying to your favourite universities, cleaning the house when you could and cooking Mason’s meals.
Seeing that you were still making him breakfast and dinner every day made him feel even worse. Every time he was back from training, he entered his room wanting to cuddle and to let you comfort him, but then he was taken aback with the realisation of what he did.
To be fair, you know Mason tried to talk to you a few times, and even slept by your door one night since you wouldn’t unlock it when he was home.
But you were hurt. Really hurt. You know he’s been facing a hard time, but the fact he wanted a break from you made you insecure. It broke the blind trust you had in him.
It didn’t help that in the same week the tabloids instantly started talking about Mason and a mysterious girl, questioning if he was single or if he was cheating, and the fans started coming to your profiles, asking you about him.
It was such a coincidence the news talking about it in the same week he dumped you, that it was obvious for you that he was probably seen with someone else. With another girl.
So you drowned in study, only leaving your room to cook and to run outside for a few minutes, trying to focus on yourself and remain healthy even though your heart was falling apart.
During the day it was easier since you were alone at home. The nights were the worst.
Knowing he was there, but not with you. Not being able to talk with your favourite person, to hear about his day. Not being able to cuddle to sleep, to hold his face in your hands.
And knowing that he was the reason why you weren’t able to love on him.
By the second week, you were a wrecking mess.
Gossip pages kept talking about Mason and this girl, that you don’t know who it is. You only left your room when he was at training or at a game, locking the door when he was at home, and the only way you knew about him was through Man United’s social media.
On a particular night, you had cooked his dinner and headed to your room, taking a long shower and getting ready for bed. You had just chosen what you would watch when your phone started buzzing with a FaceTime call from Mason’s brother.
Sighing, you accepted the call and waited for him to talk.
“Y/N? Hey, I’m sorry I’m calling you kinda late, but it’s everything okay?” Lewis’ concerned face filled the screen and you recognised his car. “Mason is not answering since this morning and I’m starting to worry, we’re getting there so I wanted to be sure he’s at home”
Lewis had no idea, but his words brought the worst kind of panic to your heart. You jumped out of the bed without even answering him and rushed outside, unlocking your door and running to the other side of the corridor before opening Mason’s room door to see that his bed was empty and messy.
Running downstairs with your heart in your mouth, you entered the living room in a rush, stopping suddenly when a group of men entered your view. Shaw, Rashford, Höjlund and McTominay were playing video games and eating snacks, but Mason was nowhere to be seen.
“Y/N? We woke you up?” Luke seemed surprised, instantly getting on his feet and approaching you. “Mase told us you were out this night, I’m sorry if we disturbed you”
When you didn’t answer, Rashford got on his feet too.
“You’re pale, Y/N. It’s everything alright? Do you need anything?”
You looked around, feeling lost in the place you used to call home, Lewis forgotten in your phone.
“What’s wrong?” Mason showed up coming from the kitchen and taking a few seconds to notice you were there. The sight of your confused face and the bags under your eyes made his heart hurt. He hadn’t seen you in so long… “Y/N-”
“Lewis is trying to talk to you” you murmured, giving a quick smile to his teammates before heading upstairs, back to your room.
When you finally closed the door, your entire body began to shake, your heart having difficulties to process that he was fine and nothing that you imagined had actually happened.
The anxiety and panic you’ve felt minutes before got the best of you and you try to make it to your bed, falling a few steps before reaching it.
“Hey” Lewis’ alarmed voice reminded you he was still in the call. “What’s wrong? You’re on the floor? Wait, why did you enter the guest room? Y/N, what’s happening? Jaz, can you take my phone and talk to her please”
You tried to answer him, but everything that left your lips were heavy sobs and grunts, your hips hurting from the fall. When Jaz’s face showed up, you felt the urge to let it all go like you’d with your sister — a sister you don’t have.
“Y/N you need to breathe. Breath with me” she tried to keep your attention on her while, noticing how uneven your breath was. “Can you tell me what happened?”
You shook your head, still feeling like you were choking on your tears. “I’m sorry. I thought ‘well, it must be bad if he’s not answering his own brother’, and then the possibilities terrified me”
“It’s okay, He’s okay, isn’t he?” Jaz calmed you, and you nodded. “Good. Now, keep breathing. What happened? Why does it seem like you’re having a panic attack?”
“I don’t know if I should talk about this with his sister, Jaz”
“Don’t be silly, I just wanna help you. I’m like your big sister too, aren’t I?”
“I miss you” you sighed, pouting like a kid.
“We’re almost there, my love. Do you think you can open the door for us?”
You tried to get on your feet and the pain was instant.
“I can’t, actually. My hip hurts”
“Hurts like you’ll need painkillers or like you can’t actually get up?” Lewis’ voice could be heard, and you attempted to get up.
“I don’t know” you whined. “Like I can’t get up, I think”
“Do you want me to call an ambulance?” Jaz asked, concerned, but you were quick to say no.
“No! No, his name will be everywhere tomorrow”
“He wouldn’t care if it’s for you, Y/N”
“Now he might, I don’t know”
“What do you mean?” Jaz frowned at you.
You figured out there was no need to hide from them, once they’d found out as soon as they saw Mason, so you shrugged.
“We broke up”
“What? Why?” she looked more confused that yourself that night.
“I don’t know. He asked for a break, but I don’t do breaks. Why would you need a break from someone you love? So you can be with someone else without feeling guilty? And then the tabloides…”
“Yeah, we saw it. That’s why we’re coming over, we we’re worried about how he’s dealing with it”
“I don’t think he’s too worried about it” you sighed, telling them the last few weeks and what just happened in the living room.
“And he hadn’t followed you to see how you are? What if we weren’t coming over, would you lay hurt on the floor forever?” you could hear Lewis’ voice, and your cheeks got red.
“I’ve been locking myself when he’s at home, so he hadn’t had the chance to talk to me even when he tried to”
“Y/N… communication is the key” Jaz told you.
“I know, but this is not the time to talk about it”
“Fine. We’re here” Lewis announced, turning off the engine.
“Lewis?” Mason opened the door, surprised. “What are you doing here?”
Thankfully, the boys had already left and Mason was alone in the living room.
“Goodnight Mase. Can I talk with Y/N?”
“Oh, so” he scratched his neck, not ready to talk about it yet. “About this, there’s something I need to tell you”
“Yeah, I know. I’ll go to her room real quick, yeah?”
“She’s not in our room. And she doesn’t unlock the door when I’m home”
“She will unlock it for me, don’t worry” Lewis tapped his shoulder before heading to the guest room.
“Have you talked to her?” Mason frowned, following his brother. You could hear they talking and you hid your face with your arm so Mason couldn’t see you’ve been crying.
“Hey Y/N, it’s Lewis. Jaz is in the car, can I take you to her?”
You nodded, groaning when he lifted you up.
“What happened?” Mason asked, but no one answered him. “Y/N? Are you hurt?”
You could feel the desperation in his voice, but you had no strength to talk. Lewis put you in the car, where Jaz instantly hugged you, before going back inside to take your stuff.
“What the hell are you doing?” Mason asked, watching Lewis looking for something in his bedroom’s bathroom.
“Taking Y/N’s stuff, she’s going back to Portsmouth with me and Jaz”
After taking what he needed from Mason’s room, he went to the guest room to take only the essential things he thought you could need.
“What do you mean?”
“I’m taking her out of this house. I won’t let you treat her like that” Lewis kept talking with a firm tone whilst taking your skincare products and then looking for a few pieces of clothes. “She can stay at mum’s for a while”
Mason’s eyes widened. “No. No, you’re not” he tried to take your stuff from Lewis’ hands.
His brother gave him a look and Mason stopped immediately. He wanted Lewis to scream at him, and the fact he was talking low and contained was killing Mason.
“Try me, Mason Mount” Lewis whispered. “We all know you’re going through something, and you know how much I love you, but this is not an excuse. I thought you would ask her for help. Find comfort in her to get through this. But asking for a break? Going out and hooking up with other girls while she’s still living with you? Do you have any idea how she was when we found her?”
Mason stayed silent, so Lewis kept talking.
“Jaz wanted to call the ambulance, if this can make you understand why she’s coming with us”
Mason’s eyes watered and he wanted to explain better, tell his brother that he never hooked up with other girls and why he asked you for a time, but he should’ve done this days ago — Lewis wouldn’t hear him now. Neither would you.
“It’s not like that, Lewis, I never hooked up with anyone-“ he shook his head, but his brother headed to the door without paying attention.
Mason ran to block his way, receiving a flat look, and Lewis sighed. “You don’t have to make this more difficult than it already is, Mase. She’s coming with me”
“No!” Mason screamed at his face, and it was obvious how unbalanced the younger one was. “She’s not”
“Mason, I’m your brother and I will never let go of your hand, but you need to calm down and think about what you want. I‘ll call you tomorrow so we can talk, alright?” Lewis kissed Mason’s forehead and walked to his car with your bag.
Mason’s heart broke in a million pieces seeing you huddled in the back seat, Jaz’s body cuddling yours. His eyes watered when he called your name and you didn’t look at him, your shoulders shaking.
How the hell did he ruin his entire life in just two weeks?
When his brother started the car, Mason instantly picked up his phone and texted Luke.
The ride back to Portsmouth was long and you slept through most of it, not even realising when Jaz and Lewis switched places so he could rest too.
“Since it’s Friday night we’re all in our family’s house” Jaz told you as soon as she saw your eyes open. “Do you mind coming with us? I can book an hotel if it’s too much for you, being with his family”
“No, I’d love to spend some time with you all. You know how much I love your family, Jaz”
“We love you a lot, too. Especially Summer, but the whole family loves you” Jaz giggled, thinking about how happy Summer will get just by seeing you.
“The whole family but my boyfriend” you laughed,
“I’m sure we’ll understand what’s going on tomorrow, Y/N. Lewis will talk to him”
You shrugged, feeling too tired to debate. Jaz helped you settle in one of the guest rooms, and since it was in the middle of the night you didn’t see anyone.
By the morning, everybody was really happy to see you, and explaining the whole thing to Debbie was the worst part of it.
“I don’t know what’s happening with him” she told you with a sad tone. “I’m not trying to defend him, Y/N, please no. I’m just so worried. He doesn’t answer our calls anymore, barely answer our texts, doesn’t want to come visit”
“It’s just a hard time, Debbie. I know he misses you and his old life, he misses London and his friends. It’s been a rough time for him” you smiled softly. “I think he’s just feeling lost, and maybe I just didn’t made him feel settled there”
“Still, this is not an excuse to do what he did” Lewis interrupted, sitting on the other sofa. “If he’s lost, if he’s struggling, if he’s sad, he needs help. Pushing you aside it’s not the answer. No when you left your life for him. You lost things too”
“Lewis is right, you left everything behind. He is not obligated to stay with you just out of gratitude, but if he wanted to end things then he should’ve done it in a better way” Debbie nodded. “I think I should visit him so we can have a talk”
“I called him this morning” Lewis sighed. “I think he needs real help, mum. But we’ll help him, yeah?”
He kissed Debbie’s head, but Jaz frowned at him.
“What do you mean with real help?” she asked, sighing too when Lewis shrugged. “I think we shouldn’t have left him alone”
“Yeah, we shouldn’t have, but he’s okay. Shaw talked to me about half an hour ago. Jaz, can we talk real quick?”
Once they left you alone with Debbie and Summer, you tried to play with the little one and give her attention. When she asked why you were there, you told her that uncle Mason and you had a little fight, but that everything was okay.
“Oh” Summer gasped. “This is why uncle Mase told me he was sad?”
You frowned, suddenly worried. Mason never let his nieces get in the middle of adult problems, so you pulled Summer closer and kissed her head.
“What do you mean, baby girl? What did Uncle Mase have told you?”
“That he was feeling really, really sad, and that he was hurt” she pouted, pointing to her forehead. “Here”
You tried to keep focused on her, but you could only think about Mason, your heart aching just from thinking about what ‘really, really sad” meant.
When the adults were back, Summer was practically sleeping so Lewis took her and left you and Jaz alone.
“I’ll have this conversation with you, because I see how bad you’re hurting and I care too much about you. But I’m not trying to say he’s not wrong, or that you should forgive him just because of his condition, this is not what I think at all and-”
“Jaz! Just say it” you interrupted her, your heart racing in your chest.
“We think Mase has been in a depressed state. Not depressive yet, but it won’t take long if nothing changes”
“Alright” you took a deep breath, already feeling guilty that his siblings stayed by your side and that the three of you left him alone at home. “What do we do now?”
“We?” Jaz asked. “Are you sure?”
“We know Mason, Jaz. Of course I’m hurt, especially by the fact he preferred asking for a break instead of asking for help, but I’m not letting him by himself when he needs me the most”
“There’s not much we can do” she sighed, and you imagined how hard it was probably being to his siblings, seeing their baby boy in a state like this. “Lewis talked to Shaw and they decided to take Mase to the club’s doctor. It’s a start, but Mason needs to want help for this to work”
You nodded, feeling overwhelmed by a feeling you couldn’t even explain. He’s facing a hard time - but he’s alive, and as long as he’s still here, he can face this.
And despite being worried about him, knowing that the way he acted wasn’t entirely his fault took the part of the weight out of your shoulder. Even though his actions were still hurting, the truth is that you’d always be patiently waiting for him to be better.
For him to come back.
Before you went to bed that night, your phone buzzed with a single text, your heart trying to jump out of your chest whilst your entire body ached with the urge of holding your boy again.
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Two months later, you were still missing him like crazy.
You never answered that text, simply because you had nothing to say. It was a promise, and you were waiting for him to keep it.
Since you left Manchester, Lewis would send you a message every morning saying “Mase is asking about you, do I have permission to tell him anything?”, and the answer would always be “as long as you tell me how he is”.
Even though you were still feeling hurt, the answers always made you smile. “He started therapy today” and “he’s back at training” were the ones you loved the most to know. And, of course, the fact he asked about you every single day warmed your heart.
Lewis told you that the only reason why Mason hadn’t visited yet nor sent you any message was because he only wanted to talk with you when he was feeling more like himself again, and you respected it.
Of course you’d be there for him if he asked you, but deep down you wanted to see your Mason — not the one who asked you for a break.
So, since the day Jaz and Lewis brought you to Portsmouth you’ve been at Debbie’s house. She and Tony took care of you, giving you space every time you needed but also supporting you to go out a bit, study outside or even hang out with them. You also started a remote job, and it felt like the only thing left for you to be fully happy was for Mason to be good.
You discovered that the family used to reunite every weekend, so they could have lunch together — and, when Mason is playing, so they can watch him. By every weekend, you felt more part of the family, and the fear that maybe Mason meant it that night, that maybe he won’t want you around even when he feels better, started to grow inside you.
One of those weekends, almost four months that you left Manchester, Summer wanted to go to the park before lunch and most of the family followed her and Jaz. You stayed at home with Tony so you could keep an eye on a sleepy Mila, since Jaz didn’t want to wake her up.
You were in the living room, watching Mila’s peaceful sleep when someone knocked at the front door and Tony left the kitchen saying “I got this”. You chuckled at how cute and sweet he always is, but then found it weird when he didn't return with whoever was knocking, making your way to check if everything was alright.
“Dad, please. I just wanna talk with her” you stopped in your tracks, feeling goosebumps all over your body. There’s no way you could not know this voice.
“I don’t know if she wants the same, Mase. Let me check, alright? I’ll just ask real quick” Tony told him, and you appreciated that he thought about your well being. If you didn’t want to talk with Mason — which you do, it could turn into a mess if he let him enter without warming you.
“Tony, c’mon” Mason snorted, and you know he’s impatient. “That’s my girl. I just need to see her”
Tony stared at Mason for a few seconds and you bit a smile, quickly stepping into their vision field.
“It’s alright. Can you give us a moment?” you touched his shoulder, and the way Mason’s eyes shimmered when he saw you made your tummy flutter.
“Of course. Kid, you’re staying for lunch?”
“Yeah” he nodded, eyes not leaving you.
“So you better come help me when you finished your talk” Tony teased, kissing Mason’s head before heading to the kitchen.
There was a few seconds of silence before Mason shook his head.
“Sorry I didn’t text you, I was trying not to think about it so I wouldn’t give up. But I owe you an explanation” he bit his lower lip, and you could tell by his breath that he was trying not to cry. “Would you- could you listen? Even though this doesn’t change anything, I just need to know that you know what happened”
“C’mon, let’s go to the living room” you smiled, your heart pounding with the sad expression on his face, but then he smiled and followed you. “Why you’re not in Manchester right now? I thought you had a game tomorrow”
“I asked for a day, so I could come and talk to you” Mason shrugged, as if it wasn’t a big thing.
“Mason! You’re just back in the squad, you can’t ask for a day” you scolded, crossing your arms and turning back at him.
“It’s okay, I need a break and they’ll probably say I just have food poisoning or something like this. How do you know I’m back in the squad?” he smirked, sitting first so you could choose if you wanted to sit next to him or not.
You wish you were stronger, but you missed him so much that sitting across the room felt wrong, so you sat beside him.
“Knowing” you rolled your eyes. “So, what’s so important that you couldn’t wait?”
There were a few more seconds in silence, but it didn’t bother you. You know, from Lewis’ daily updates, how difficult it has been for Mason to get on track again, so you let him go at his own pace.
“You” he played with his fingers, trying to keep his hands to himself. “I couldn’t wait to see you. The idea that I’m losing you a little bit more everyday that you spend without an explanation is killing me. I know the blame is on me and I have no right to ask you anything, but here I am asking you to try to understand, because I miss you”
You felt your eyes watering, so you blinked away the tears.
“I miss you too, but..”
“Don’t say it” he interrupted you, shaking his head and looking away. You could tell when he was on the verge of tears, and the sudden change in his mood got you worried.
“What?”
“I don’t wanna know. If you don’t love me anymore, please don’t tell me” he pleaded, fingers fidgeting the hem of his shirt.
“Don’t be silly” you reached for his hand, intertwining your pinkies to distract him from whatever he was feeling. “I already understand what happened, yeah? I don’t blame you”
“You should” Mason shrugged.
“It’s just…” you ignored what he said. “I think it’s hard for me to just suddenly open my heart for you again? I know you were in a dark space and it wasn’t your fault and you didn’t mean to hurt me but it did. It hurt a lot”
Mason squeezed your hand and his shaky breath broke made your heart ache.
“I’m sorry”
“I know you are. Wanna tell me what happened? How were you feeling that night?”
It took him a few seconds to answer, but the silence wasn’t weird anymore. You’ve known each other for a while now, and even though the Mason you left weeks ago pushed you away, he doesn’t look like this one.
This one looks like your Mason.
“I don’t know how to describe it” he started. “But the last six months have been hard. First, I’m sorry I lied to you about this for four months, and I’m sorry I wasn’t being honest every time you asked me if I was good. I do trust you, and I know I should’ve told you, but I was scared”
You squeezed his hand to tell him it was okay without interrupting him, waiting for him to continue.
“It started with a few and normal insecurities, things everybody feels. ‘What if I’m not what the team is expecting, what if I fail here, what if I’m not good enough’. And then it escalated so fast. I started skipping meals because they didn’t look interesting, sleeping from the moment I got home to the moment I needed to leave for training, not actually wanting to talk with anyone. And I know you thought I was just tired and dealing with a lot, so please don’t feel guilty about it”
Too late, you thought. How haven’t you noticed that the man you love was struggling?
“The only thing that kept me going was you. You were the only person I still wanted to see, the only voice that wouldn’t annoy me. But soon I started thinking that if I really love you so much then I should let you go, because you were stuck with an unhappy man. A man that wasn’t taking you on date nights anymore, a man that wasn’t giving you attention. A man that wasn’t even making love with you”
“Lack of sex never bothered me” you murmured, incapable of keeping silent. Mason gave you a sad smile and nodded.
“I know. I know, because you never pushed me. And now I know that if you were so kind thinking I was stressed and busy with work, you would’ve helped me if I had just told you how I was feeling. But the only thing my mind could think is that you deserved better, Better than me” he started biting his nails, so you took his other hand in yours too. “But still I was so selfish that even though you deserved better, and wanted you around. I was so scared that you would actually find ‘the better’ as soon as you left our house. When Lewis took you, I don’t know. I think it was the worst day of my existence”
“He had good intentions”
“I’m glad he took you, now. I was so involved in my own misery that I couldn’t see how bad it was affecting you. He told me that that day Jaz almost called an ambulance because you were on the verge of a panic attack. I’m so sorry. Do you know I never hooked up with anyone, don’t you?”
You nodded, remembering that Lewis told you what happened. A female fan, a paparazzi. It was enough to build the narrative.
“It’s okay, Mase” you smiled, hurt more by the miscommunication than anything else.
“No, it’s not” he started playing with your fingers and you let him. “God, I should’ve told you. Asked you for help, reassurance, anything”
“A damaged brain doesn’t work properly, Mason. Stop blaming yourself for how you reacted. Yeah, it hurted me and of course in an ideal world you would ask for help and I’d help you, but it’s not how it happened so let’s not stick to the past, alright?” you told him with a gentle tone, stroking his hand with your thumb. “What has happened since Lewis brought me here?”
“I called Luke and told him everything. Like, everything. The dark thoughts and how I treated you and he refused to let me alone. I think he was afraid, so he picked me up and made me sleep at his house. Lewis called me by morning and we had a chat, but everything was so cloudy and I couldn’t make decisions. Anouska was the one who told Luke what to do, so he talked to Lewis himself, put me in the car and took me to the club’s therapist. I’ve been seeing him since”
Mason took a deep breath, and you could feel his hands shaking.
“I know I hurt you, and there’s not a single day from the past four months that I don’t feel like pushing my face for it, and I’m so sorry I made your days harder and sadder, and if I could I’d let you live your life away from me so you could be happy with someone who won’t hurt you, but I can’t. I can’t live without you and I just need one more chance so I can make it up to you” he finally looked at you again. “That’s what I’m here for. I want another chance, Y/N. In your own pace and you can decide everything, but please”
You observed his pinky cheeks and shy gaze, smiling when he looked away.
“Are you shy?” you teased, amused that you were still capable of making him feel like a teenager.
“Stop, this is already hard enough” he groaned, making you laugh.
“Sorry” you smiled. “I guess I can accept your offer. First date when?”
“Oh- uh- I was-” he stuttered, and you bit a smile. “Wanna go to my next game?”
“We’re starting over, aren’t we? You shouldn’t bring someone who’s not even your girlfriend to your game” you teased again, giggling when his cheeks got even more redder.
“But I want you to be my girlfriend” he pouted, and his sincerity made your entire body heat. He was still your precious boy, after all.
“You’ll need to win your position back” you shrugged, and Mason was still pouting. “So, first date first”
“Come back to Manchester” his pout grew bigger and you wanted to kiss him, but you held yourself back.
“Mase! I just said you’ll have to win your position back and you want me to live with you?” you laughed, rolling your eyes playfully.
“No! I’ll pay for your hotel” his cheeks were burning. “I just need you around. Plus, how am I supposed to take you on a date if you’re too far away from me?”
“Fair enough. I’ll think about it” you winked, but Mason knows you too well to find out the answer by your smile.
“Lunch is ready” Tony screamed from the kitchen and you got on your feet, still holding his hands.
“Come here” you asked him, smiling when he shyly got closer. “I’m really proud of you, Mason. Even though you needed help to get to a doctor, staying and getting better was your decision”
“Thank you”
“Now let’s eat” you kissed the bridge of his nose and led him to the kitchen, holding his hand.
Tony smiled when he saw Mason’s pinky face and your hands intertwined, but you appreciated his silence about it.
When you heard the unmistakable Summer’s voice screaming ‘that’s uncle Mase’s car’, you knew you were back at home again — or, at least, very, very close.
The damn hotel was booked the next morning. Mason spent the night at his parents’, but in a different room, saying that ‘you won’t sleep in the same bed as someone who’s not your boyfriend yet’ — and it was your turn to pout.
By the morning, you were coming back to Manchester with him. It felt weird at first, and leaving the comfort of his parents’ house where you know they’d take care of you was scary, but Mason proved you had nothing to be scared of.
He drove whilst you watched movies and played video games on his big television, telling him you liked his new car.
“Glad you liked it, we’ll use it a lot” was his answer, and something in his tone made you blush before getting back to play.
When he left you in your hotel, Mason warned you he needed to sleep and take care of a few things, but told you to be ready by 7pm.
Mason was punctual, waiting for you exactly at seven. He kissed your forehead, not before making you feel undressed by his gaze, and gave you his arm to hold.
The restaurant was really close so he asked you if you wanted to walk and you accepted. The weather was nice and you loved walking, taking advantage of the situation to press your body against Mason’s.
There wasn’t much to say, so the pair of you walked in silence just enjoying each other’s existence. When you got to the restaurant and the waiter guided you to the reservation, Mason was instantly shy.
“What’s wrong?” you asked him with a teasing smile, not used to how shy he was around you even after so long.
“What are we supposed to talk about? We already know each other” he bit his bottom lip, eyes dragging down your body again. “And your dress makes me nervous”
“Why are you so silly?’ you groaned, and it was your turn to blush. “You can tell me what I’ve lost the last couple of months”
“Fine. I’m back in the squad and they said I can start next week. I also have therapy once a week now and we’re trying natural medicine” he told you shyly, the pinky cheeks you love showing up. “He told me I was in a depressed state but he could help me, and he’s helping”
“This makes me incredibly happy, Mase” you squeezed his hand over the table, his face turning even more red. “I’m genuinely so proud of you, and I hope you know there’s no shame in asking for help and taking medicine. And even though he is indeed helping you, you’re doing the hard job”
“Thank you” he smiled, holding your hand. “Now your turn. What have I lost?”
“I’ve been studying a lot” you smiled, not knowing how to tell him the news. “And some universities kinda accepted me?”
“Really? This is amazing babe, you know I’ve always thought you were the most intelligent person I’ve ever met”
It was true, Mason always told you how intelligent you were, and even though receiving compliments made you really shy, you were blushing for another reason, the way the pet name slipped through his lips like he never stopped using them with you.
“Yeah, one in Manchester, two in London and another one in Barcelona”
“Great. You’re so fucking good, it’s insane how you always makes me proud. Are you going to one of them?” he praised you, making your face burn with shame — and something else.
“I want to, but I haven’t decided to which one yet”
You had, actually.
“As long as you choose the one you really wants, I’ll be happy for you” he raised an eyebrow, demonstrating that he meant it.
“Even though it’s far away from you?” you asked nervously and Mason instantly picked up on what you were thinking.
“Y/N, look at me” he asked you, only speaking again when your eyes were locked on his. “I lived four months of my life away from you and the worst wasn’t being away from you. It was knowing why we were far away from each other. As long as you’re mine, distance it’s just a detail”
You squeezed his hand over the table, trying to bite a smile. After dinner and a few conversations about everything and anything in particular, Mason paid the bill and asked you to take you home.
“Do you mean, to my hotel room?” you giggled, hugging his arm.
The walk back was light and you felt your chest warm, the happiness of having Mason back — but more important, the happiness of seeing that Mason also got his true self back, overwhelming you.
When the pair of you stopped in front of the hotel, you hugged Mason’s waist.
“Thank you. It was really nice”
“It was nice to me too” he kissed your forehead, smiling bigger when you raised your face to look him in the eyes. After a few seconds staring into them, Mason brushed his nose against yours. “Kissing on a first date it’s acceptable for you? I miss your kisses”
“You’re making things difficult for me, you know? I’m trying to make you wait” you giggled, your smile so wide it was hurting your cheeks.
“I don’t wanna wait” he whined before kissing your jaw. “But, I know I deserve to wait. So I see ya next week?”
“Wait” you pushed his jacket when he started to distance from your body, bringing him closer. “I kinda had a rough time before our date. Would you mind-”
“You’re inviting me over on our first date?” Mason teased, his hand now stroking your jaw.
“Mase” you groaned, making him giggle.
“Cuddles and ice cream?” he murmured, stroking your cheek and your eyes watered a bit to the fact he still knows what you like to do when you’re slightly upset.
“And you’ll have to watch This Is Us”
“Oh no” he groaned playfully, as if he wasn’t dying to have this exact type of night with you. “You can’t tell anyone if I cry”
“Deal” you smiled, guiding him to your room.
Of course he ordered a few ice cream flavours, not letting you pay for any, and tucked himself in bed with you, trying to find a comfortable and respectful position.
You’ve always loved being in Mason’s arms and he never failed to make you feel secure whilst he was holding you, and soon the pair of you were practically sleeping.
So after countless episodes and a sleepy Mason you turned off the television and searched for a more comfortable position, laying your head on his shoulder and crossing his body with your upper leg.
At that moment, it felt like nothing ever happened. That you were still the sweet couple that moved to Manchester chasing his dreams.
But something did happened, and the memory brought tears to your eyes. Since that day you’ve never cried to Mason anymore, and you miss the way he used to comfort you and tell you things would be fine. It was your safe space to show emotions, and now you’re slightly afraid of crying in his arms again.
“I’m so sorry” Mason whispered, anticipating what you were feeling and breaking the silence. When you started crying he kissed your head, hugging you tight.
Seeing you cry was always the hardest for him, and knowing damn well it was his fault only made it worse.
“I’m sorry too, for not being there for you. I’ve been thinking about it since Portsmouth and fuck, I feel so stupid. How the fuck I didn’t noticed” you tried to speak, choking on your words.
“No” he kissed your forehead one more time. “Absolutely not, this is not your fault. I was dumb, I didn’t ask for help, I pushed you away when all you did was love me. You shouldn’t feel guilty about how I dealt with it”
“How are you feeling now?” you murmured, running your fingers through his chest and trying to make the tears stop from falling. “You can be honest with me, you know”
Mason caressed your lower back, sighing and thinking for a moment.
“Happy, honestly. I’m happy, Y/N. I know I’ve fucked up with you and that we’re only here right now because you have the most generous heart, but I’m so happy that I’m here. I’m happy about the treatment, I’m happy at the club, and even though I don’t know how our future will be and if you’ll ever gonna be mine again, I’m happy that I got to hold you tonight”
“I’m not gonna lie to you, what happened hurt me a lot. But I’m also pretty good at understanding the other side, and I understand yours. I understand how scared you must’ve felt, how lost and confused” you kissed his chest over the fabric of his shirt. “There wasn’t a single day that I didn’t miss being your girl”
“I don’t wanna hurt you ever again”
“But you will. And I bet I’ll hurt you sometimes. Relationships are like this, baby, but as long as we didn’t mean it then we can always talk about it and get back on track”
“So this means we’re back?” Mason whispered, afraid he got it wrong and you were about to say no.
“If I say yes now then I’m really bad at making you wait” you giggled, kissing his shoulder. “Maybe in two more dates?”
Mason nodded, snuggling further into you.
“I missed this so much” he murmured, holding you so tight it was almost like you were the same person.
“Snuggling?” you changed your positions so he could lay on top of you and scratched his hair.
“Yes” he nodded again. “And you calling me baby”
You laughed, kissing the tip of his nose.
“I never wanted to stop, you know”
“I know. You’ll never have to stop ever again” he reassured you, his fingers stroking your waist.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, I’ll be your baby forever” he kissed your neck, squeezing your body tighter and pulling his face away so he could look in your eyes. “But I said what I said, you deserve better”
You sighed, not wanting to debate this again
“Mase, don’t-”
“Shhh” he silenced you with a peck on your lips, making you smile. “So I’ll be better for you”
You stared at him for a few seconds, observing the silly smile he was giving you after stealing a kiss, the way his eyes were burning your skin and how closer to you he got by every second.
“I guess maybe that kiss doesn’t have to wait two more dates” you murmured, feeling genuinely happy when he instantly kissed you properly for the first time in so long.
599 notes · View notes
yandere-3-sagau · 7 months
Text
Yandere!Wanderer x Secret Creator Reader Pt 2
warnings(s): slight angst, kinda? humanish wanderer (he can bleed, throw-up and cry), its unedited cause i’m spam posting my drafts <3
word count: nunya
First Part: Here
Wanderer never realized how much you affected his daily life until your absence began to sink in. He never noticed how much your smile and kind greetings made his heart flutter until his heart ached from the emptiness.
At first, he didn’t really think your absence was such a big deal til he’d wake up with tears in his eyes and the faint whisper of the name you had given him ringing in his ears. It was like you were haunting him. How could you name him with such care but disappear and not even think to visit? Did you really abandon him? Were you lying when you told him the meaning of his name?
Wanderer began traveling the world, following any reported sightings of the creator. Each time he’s left with a dead end, he feels his sanity wear thinner and thinner, a gentle touch away from snapping.
It isn’t until he hears of a parade being held to welcome and thank the creator for restoring the kingdom of Khaenri’ah. He drops everything he’s doing, and heads straight to your supposed location.
When he gets there, the streets were crowded with people watching as you give a speech high up on a balcony.
He ignores everything else, his focus entirely on you. It’s as everything melts into the background and his actions are on autopilot.
He flies over your position, not hearing any of the gasps erupt from the crowd nor noticing the guards that seem alert at his presence.
His are wide and blown out as he grips your wrists tightly.
“Wanderer…”
“DON’T CALL ME THAT…” he says, tears lining his eyes. Your eyes furrow in confusion. He seems unstable, face full of desperation.
“What do you mean…”
“… my name,” he says quietly. “Say my name!” You pause for a bit, not understanding what he wants. Finally, you speak.
“__”
The voice he has been longing to hear… the name he dreamt of you saying reaches his ears.
He lets out a choked sob, all the emotions he held in finally spilling out as he grips your clothing. It’s like nothing else in the world matters but the two of you.
Even as there are whispers all around speaking of blasphemy.
Amidst his sobs, he asks you all the questions that had been plaguing his mind.
“Do you really see me as a gift… a blessing? Am I really that important to you…”
You’re silent, unsure what to say as all eyes watch you. He feels his heart break at your silence.
“I’m sorry!” he shouts, hands trembling. “I’m sorry I haven’t been using it. I love it! I love what you named me, I really do!”
“I’m your blessing, right? Why aren’t you saying anything.” His movements grow desperate as he shakes you. “… you said so yourself, you can’t take it back. Why aren’t you speaking?!”
You notice the judging eyes staring at the man on the floor. You try to push him off of you but he lets out another heavy, choked out sob, his tears flowing harder. Your attempts to get him off you is seen as a form of rejection. “You-“ he suddenly doubles over, throwing up on the ground. ”…you can’t abandon me!” He screams.
The guards grow closer and he finally notices them. “Please…” he crumples to the floor, trembling hands clutching his chest. He gasps as he finds it hard to breathe. He feels a pressure in his head, and suddenly blood flows from his nose.
You begin to panic, seeing him cry so hard his nose begins to bleed. You bend over and bring him into your arms. Rubbing his back, you call out the name you’ve given him. “I’m not abandoning you. You’re a gift.”
He shakes his head, pushing himself further into your arms. “I’m yours! I’m your gift…” He needs to hear you say it. He needs you clear all the insecurities and doubts in his heart. He truly looks pitiful, his face covered in snot and tears.
The guards are unable to pull him away from you no matter how hard they try. His grip on you is like iron. The guards have no choice but to disperse the crowd. With a nod of your head, the guards allow the two of you some privacy.
Almost an hour passes of him crying into your arms, begging you not to abandon him and demanding you say his name over and over again.
Finally, his tears run out and he’s left sniffling with his eyes swollen shut from the salty tears.
“You love me, right?” he whispers, staring up at you from his position in your arms. You sigh and press a kiss to his forehead.
“Yes, I love you ___.”
He smiles with his red puffy eyes and tear stained face.
“I love you, too…” he whispers before he passes out, the exhaustion finally taking over. You try to move but even unconscious, his grip is tight and unrelenting.
You sigh and let him cling to you. You’re glad that he likes the name you’ve given him but you’re a bit concerned on how much importance he’s placed on it. As you relax in his hold, you fail to realize that simply typing in a cluster of letters into a game has set your fate in stone and that no matter how hard you try to deviate from it’s tracks, you’ll never be free from it’s grasp.
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seivsite · 11 months
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SWEET NOTHINGS.
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includes: itoshi sae x fem!reader. hurt/comfort ( it’s mostly the latter ), established relationship, he calls you spanish petnames, lowkey self indulgent — wc: 620
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It was 3:56 am, and she had lost track of how long (Name) had been sitting on the couch, eagerly awaiting Sae’s return. Earlier, she had attempted to find solace in sleep, but restlessness took hold, leaving her uncomfortable and yearning for Sae’s tender embrace. She’s acutely aware of her obligation to be in bed, particularly with morning classes awaiting her on the horizon. Yet, an unexplained surge of melancholy envelops her, its origin a mystery dancing in the shadows of her consciousness. Unaware of the silent tears that have slipped from her eyes, she remains lost in the depths of her emotions, unable to decipher their cryptic whispers.
The bedroom doors swung open, unveiling the figure of Sae. Snapping out of her trance, her gaze locked onto Sae, her eyes shimmering with tears. Sae instinctively closed the distance between them, his thumb tenderly wiping away the cascading tears. Kneeling down, he sought to truly see her face and softly inquired, “What’s troubling you, mi amor?”
She averted her gaze from his eyes filled with concern, and Sae, recognizing her need for solace, gently enveloped her in his embrace. Guiding her head towards the shelter of his chest, he tenderly wove his fingers through her hair, seeking to offer solace and comfort, silently whispering reassurance with each gentle stroke.
Mumbled apologies escaped her lips as she nestled her head upon his shoulder. Sae tilted his head in perplexity, his voice gentle as he inquired, “For what?”
Tears welled in her eyes as she continued, “I don’t understand why you’re with me. What makes me special? I feel undeserving of your love and presence—”
Without hesitation, Sae silenced her worries with a tender kiss, unwilling to entertain her self-deprecating thoughts. For in his eyes, she was a radiant, captivating presence, the embodiment of love and beauty that surpassed all measure.
As their lips separated, Sae delicately pressed his forehead against hers, their closeness becoming a profound expression of his unwavering devotion and genuine care.
“Do not let those words escape your lips,” Sae implored, his voice a gentle caress. “In my life, you are the very essence of perfection, the embodiment of all that is extraordinary. My love for you knows no bounds, and it shatters my heart to witness you question your worth. Please, trust in the love I hold for you.”
Tears continued to flow down (Name)’s face, not borne of sadness, but instead fueled by overwhelming happiness and gratitude. Sae tenderly cradled her in his arms, pressing gentle kisses upon her forehead, whispering sweet nothings. With each passing moment, her sobs began to subside, finding solace in his comforting presence.
Sae suggested they freshen up, leading (Name) to the bathroom. While he took a swift shower, (Name) tended to her tear-stained face, indulging in a long overdue skincare routine alongside him. Giggles escaped her lips as Sae’s serum threatened to spill onto the counter, a lighthearted moment amid their shared intimacy.
By the time they were done, the first rays of the rising sun painted the sky in a soft palette of colours, heralding the dawning of a new day. (Name) had made the decision to call in sick, and Sae, sensing her weariness, insisted that she take much-needed rest by his side. They found their way to the comfort of the bed, where Sae enveloped her in a tender embrace.
“Sleep well, mi sol,” he whispered, planting a gentle kiss upon her lips.
She responded with a contented hum, the weariness from her earlier emotional release finally catching up with her. Drifting into the realm of dreams, she found solace and tranquillity in the comforting rhythm of his heartbeat, surrendering herself to a peaceful slumber.
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NOTES. i forgot i had this in my drafts unfinished, so, here’s the finished piece! mi amor means my love, mi sol means my sun. i think sae calling his s/o his sun while he’s like the moon ykyk its kinda cute to me i rly like the idea heheehhe
TAG LIST. @yanqingisim @rintosei @m8bius
LIKES AND REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED! ‹3
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malarign · 1 year
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Hi! Can I request an overthinker!reader; thinking that Jungwon is no longer giving the reader love and affection because the reader thought he's tired of her but the truth is, Jungwon is busy with the comeback schedule
thoughts of doubt
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(when you thought he fell out of love)
contains: idolbf!Jungwon x gn!reader | genre: angst, fluff | tw! the reader is overthinking, mentions of breaking up and implications falling out of love, crying, kissing | wc: 0,8k
reblogs, likes and comments are highly appreciated!!!
author’s note: thank you for requesting! y’all really like angsts, huh? you wanted drama then here you go 🫣 it’s been a while since i had any requests and it made me realize how i love writing them! 😇
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“Y/n, please not now,” Jungwon sighed and closed his eyes, a frown painting on his face. “Next time let me know you want to come pay a visit, I really appreciate it but I have no time right now,” he continued and didn’t wait for your response.
You stood as you were in the empty hallway of Hybe. Feeling like your heart had been stabbed you just bit your lower lip and lowered your head. You took slow steps towards an elevator, overthinking once again.
“Is this it? He’s had enough of me it’s evident. Does he still love me?” you asked yourself when another side of you spoke: “Of course he does. He’s probably stressed about his comeback and has a lot on his mind, just like he said.” You tried to reasonably convince yourself, but sad to say, the first voice seemed more plausible.
With a flooded mind, full of thoughts of your relationship. When was the last time he hugged you? Kissed you? Told you he loves you? You couldn’t recall anything like that in the last few weeks.
When you finally reached home you had let out all the emotions and thoughts by crying loudly.
Hours passed by quickly, and more possibilities why Jungwon behaved like he did coming up one after another.
“I’m back!” You heard Jungwon close the door, making you realize how much time has passed.
Thinking about whether you should confront him about your concerns you quickly gathered all the thoughts about his recent behavior.
“Jungwon we need to talk.” Your voice was soft but serious at the same time. You finally looked at him, already seeing reluctance in his eyes and overall facial expression.
“Y/n, I have no time and energy to do that now,” he spoke slightly annoyed.
“Well, that’s what I want to talk about. You and all the ignoring me. You never have time for me,” you said and crossed your arms.
“Gosh, I don’t have time for anything!” he exclaimed. “I don’t have time to go home and see my family, I don’t have time to call any of my friends, I don’t have time to think about anything apart from this comeback!” You heard how he was gradually losing his patience by the way he spoke. “You think I want this?”
“Honestly? Yes, I do think so,” you announced and your words took him aback.
Jungwon couldn’t really understand your point of view. It wasn’t the first comeback you experienced together, so you certainly knew how many responsibilities lay on him as the leader of the group during that time. Just when he was about to respond you continued.
“You don’t even try to make time for me! Can you even recall when was the last time you hugged me or kissed me? When was the last time you said you loved me?” Tears started to brim in your eyes and threatened to spill with every word you spoke. “It made me doubt if you even love me anymore.”
Your last words were all it took to untie the knot of emotions that tightened in him. You watched Jungwon break down momentarily and didn’t know what to think. Was it too much?
“And when was the last time you hugged me or kissed me, Y/n? Throughout all the comeback preparations I didn’t hear any word of support or encouragement from you, none!” He spoke, choking on his tears, making guilt slowly rush through all your body. “You don’t feel loved, but when will you realize that affection works both ways? I also want it. And I need it just like you do, maybe even more.”
His cries made everything clear. You felt extreme guilt watching and listening to him. Everything seemed to be crystal clear now. It helped you realize that not only you didn’t receive any love during the last weeks, but Jungwon also didn’t either.
Instinctively you took slow steps toward him and wrapped your arms around his body, expecting him to push you away. Instead, he pulled you even closer to him and cried even harder burying his face in your neck. You let your tears fall down your cheeks. You were now crying messes, both from strangled emotions and feelings and from finally finding comfort in each other's touch.
“I’m so sorry, Wonie,” you whispered. “I was overthinking everything and didn’t realize it wasn’t you pushing me away, but it was me drifting apart from you.”
“I’m also sorry.” Jungwon pulled away to take a look at you with his bloodshot eyes. “I’m sorry for not making time for you and for lashing out at you, I should’ve talked to you calmly.
“No, Wonie, I think both of us needed that,” you reassured him and both of you smiled at each other. You laid a soft peck on the corner of his lips only for him to capture your lips in a sweet, lingering kiss.
“I love you, so much,” you spoke laying your head on his shoulder.
“I love you more, Y/nie.”
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thank you for reading! back to the masterlist
permanent taglist: (send an ask to be added) @nicholasluvbot, @en-chantedtomeetyou, @kpopstanmeg, @skzenhalove, @nfrgirl, @edensgardenn (in bold can’t be tagged)
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Text
𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖉𝖆𝖚𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖔𝖋 𝖉𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖍
𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖜𝖔
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show!Luke Castellan x daughter of thanatos!reader
DISCLAIMER: I don’t own the image above or any of Rick Riordan’s characters/world-building.
⚠️Warnings⚠️: mentions of death, crying, sadness, physical pain, and parental neglect
A/N: i deeply apologize, i felt i needed to set up more context and establish Luke and readers relationship more before getting to capture the flag, i PROMISE it’ll be in this next chapter or the one after that💕
“Castellan!” 
Sixteen-year-old Luke’s head snapped up abruptly to see his brother, Connor Stoll running towards him frantically. If Connor, who was usually lighthearted and cheerful, was panicked, something was really wrong. 
“What’s going on?” Luke stood up, abandoning the art project he was helping a younger camper with. “Is someone hurt?”
“I-I’m not sure. I just heard a girl screaming in the woods, and calling for your help.” 
Luke’s skin went cold. He knew exactly who was in trouble. 
The only child of Thanatos, his best friend.
Connor beckoned for Luke to follow him. The two sons of Hermes sprinted towards the woods, trying to conceal their fear. 
Luke’s heart pounded aggressively in his chest. He couldn’t bear to lose another loved one, it would destroy him.
Finally, Connor came to a halt and pointed into the trees. “She’s that way.” 
“Thank you,” Luke said breathlessly. Running through the woods and ignoring the stares of the nymphs, he strained to hear anything that could lead him to you.
Then, he heard a muffled sob coming from a nearby clearing. 
Cutting the stray branches aside with Backbiter, Luke practically flew through the trees until he spotted you, kneeling on the ground. 
He froze. You were weeping, holding your face in your hands. Your body trembled, but he couldn’t tell if it was from sadness or fear. You hardly ever cried, you were a mellow person for the most part and rarely had emotional outbursts, so seeing you like this worried him immensely.
But most shockingly, you had black wings protruding from your back.  
They didn’t look like bird wings. They had the shape of angel wings, but instead of feathers, they were made of black smoke that swirled gently and occasionally omitted wisps into the air.  
“W-Wh-“ Luke stammered, struggling to find words. “How?”
“I don’t know!” you cried, refusing to look at him. “They just…started appearing. It felt like someone was digging hot knives into my shoulder blades. I ran out here so that nobody would notice them, but then Connor found me.” 
Your best friend knelt down in front of you, gently uncovering your face by taking your hands in his gently. His hands were calloused and rough, thanks to years of rigorous training. But they were comforting nonetheless. 
“Are they still hurting?” he asked, instinctively checking your pulse by pressing your wrist carefully. 
“No…I’m just scared, Luke. I don’t understand what’s going on,” you said, feeling your intrusive thoughts spill out. “What if they don’t go away? What will everyone think of me?” 
Luke sighed. “If they don’t go away, it’ll just be another thing that makes you you. And it doesn’t define you, or take away from the person you already are. If other people can’t look past your new features, they’re fucking idiots who aren’t worth your attention anyways.” 
“But…I feel like a monster. And even worse, I look even more like my father. He has wings too, I’ve read enough about him to know that for sure. I don’t want anything to do with him, why did he make this happen to me?”
“I don’t know why it happened,” Luke said honestly. “We can talk to Chiron and see if he has any advice. He won’t judge you, you know that. And I promise you’ll always have me. I’ll be your friend, whether you have wings or not.”  
Wiping away your tears, you felt the painful feeling in your chest begin to subside. Knowing that he didn’t see you any differently despite this new development settled your nerves, at least a little. Sure, the other campers may see you as monstrous, as a terrifying mutation that needed to be avoided at all costs. All of the new friends you’d made over the past couple years may leave you, but you would survive.
At least you had Luke.
Your Luke.
________________________________________________
After calming down, Luke lead you to Chiron’s office in The Big House. Luckily, the rest of the campers were at lunch, and nobody saw your very noticeable new features.
Chiron wasn’t nearly as surprised as Luke had been concerning your wings. “I suspected that they would appear around this time,” he said. “Your father has passed down yet another one of his gifts to you.” 
You certainly didn’t seen the wings as a gift. They were a curse, yet another thing that made you appear monstrous compared to other demigods.
“So, are they just there forever now?” you asked, fighting down the bitterness in your voice.
Chiron thought for a moment. “Wish them to go away, and see what happens.”
You rolled your eyes. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.” 
“Just try,” Chiron insisted. “Your willpower is more powerful than you know.” 
Relenting, you shut your eyes, focusing on your disdain for your wings. Desperation and frustration overtook your thoughts, and you felt your head begin to throb painfully.
Thankfully, the sound of Luke calling your name snapped you out of it. 
“They’re gone,” Chiron’s low voice declared. 
Sighing in relief, you opened your eyes and looked at the centaur standing before you.
“I advise you to spend time learning to control your new features,” he said. “You must discover the extent of the abilities they give you. Otherwise, they may pose a threat to your safety, as well as the well-being of the other campers.” 
You nodded, despite the feeling of dread creeping over you. “I will. But I may miss some camp activities for the next few days.” 
“That’s alright,” Chiron said. “I’ll let Mr. D know that you are caring for yourself, and need adequate time to do so.”
“I’ll accompany you,” Luke said immediately. You shook your head.
“You have responsibilities, Luke. Who else is going to run sparring classes for the younger campers? Who else is going to make sure the Hermes kids attend archery practice and don’t set a fire somewhere?”
“I’ll have Chris take over,” he said. “He can handle it.”  
“But-“
“I’m not changing my mind,” Luke said firmly. “I’m helping you, and that’s final.”
Gods, as much as it sometimes irritated you, you loved that he was so stubborn. 
________________________________________________
After a few days that felt like an eternity, you came to the realization that you’d gained more power than you initially predicted. 
You could fly. That was to be expected; what else would the wings be for?
You could turn invisible. You only discovered this because a howl coming from the depths of the woods startled you. When you looked down, you could no longer see your body. 
And finally, your senses had heightened considerably. You could tell when someone or something died, even if it was outside the borders of camp. Beforehand, you could only sense it if they were within close parameters. 
The change was scary, but exhilarating at the same time. You knew that once you got used to your new abilities, you’d be even more intimidating than you already were.
Luke had been a huge help. He accompanied you while you experimented with your powers in the woods, but respected your request for him to keep his distance. He would check in on you at every meal, and made sure you ate an adequate amount. At night before bed, he sat with you on your mattress in Cabin 11, listening to you ramble on and on about various frustrations. He understood your anger at your father better than anyone else. He shared the same resentment towards Hermes. 
When you’d tired yourself out, he would bid you goodnight, give you a sweet kiss on the forehead, and climb into his own bed. And within minutes, he was out cold. 
But you stayed awake, staring at the worn-down wooden ceiling of your Hermes’s cabin. 
The fear you’d felt when your wings had first appeared had faded considerably. You felt powerful, invincible almost. 
And with the best swordsman in three centuries at your side, there was nothing in the world for you to be afraid of.  
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taglist: @orionspaperwork, @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy, @marvelescvpe, @lovingjasontoddmakemewanttocry, @louweasleymalfoy, @stars4birdie, @stargurl-battleship
Thank you for reading! Pls let me know what you think in the comments!!! Btw, the powers I gave the reader are based on Thanatos’s abilities according to Rick Riordan’s version of him.
Let me know in the comments if you want to be added to the taglist!
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The Searing Pain part 2 ad Merfolk AU part 2 WAS FIRE🔥. Especially the emotions in Searing Pain, I swear I felt my heart ache when Luffy cried there.
About the request , It's more about the Merfolk AU but feel to make it with regular Strawhats pirates!
So , what if the Merfolk AU Strawhats meet Y/n who lives alone in the island and actually doesn't mind them hanging around as long as they won't bother them. Y/n don't hate them or scared of them but doesn't like them.
Happy birthday @emtynessinmyworld ! I hope you like this! Sorry if it feels rushed, but I wanted to get it done in time for your b-day!
What's the harm?
Yandere Merfolk Straw Hats x GN!Reader
2.1k words
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“They’re back again,” you muttered while peering out the window. 
The “they” in question was some pod of merfolk that have decided to make your island their favorite hangout. It started with them stopping here to get some fruit off of the trees near the shore. You didn’t particularly care that they were here. There was more than enough fruit to go around, so you decided to just leave them be.
However, they were not content to leave you be.
Once they realized that you weren’t going to chase them off, they became enamored with you. It makes sense, you suppose. When the usual reaction they get from humans is either a fearful or violent one, it’s understandable that they might become fond of someone who was simply indifferent to them. If they want to chill here where they won’t be harassed by humans, then you’ll let them.
You just wish they would stop trying to bother you. When you chose to make a small abandoned island your home, it wasn’t because you were dying for social interaction. Quite the opposite. All you wanted was to be left alone, and for years you were. Now? You were lucky to go more than a week without seeing those people.
Taking a deep breath, you mentally prepare for what’s to come. There were lots of things for you to do today. A storm passed through last night and took a heavy toll on your roof, so you’ll need to patch that up. Your garden probably also isn’t faring too well. Fortunately, you were able to drag the potted plants inside, but everything in the ground is probably dead. You need to do some fishing too, but you’ll wait until they leave to do that. Being that close to the water when they’re here is a hassle. 
Steeling yourself, you push open the door and slip outside as quietly as possible. These efforts were all in vain, as it seems they were waiting for you.
There’s a call of your name behind you. A look over your shoulder revealed it to be who you assume is their leader, Luffy. The bull shark merman flashed you a wide, sharp toothed smile and waved frantically at you. 
You had to fight the urge to go back inside, he was the worst offender out of them all. This guy genuinely did not seem to understand the concept of personal space. He also didn’t know how to stop talking, much to your chagrin. There’s also the issue of him being able to go into freshwater, something you learned about him while trying to fetch some drinking water from a river flowing through the island. Not only did he scare the hell out of you with his sudden appearance, he also launched himself out of the water to tackle you in a hug. You don’t like hugs at the best of times, but you especially don’t like them when they result in your water being spilled and getting soaking wet.
“Hey! Do you wanna come swim with us?!” Luffy shouted.
He asks that every time that they’re here, regardless of the fact that you’ve refused every single time. Apparently he wasn’t getting the hint.
“No, Luffy. I’m busy and have lots to do today, I don’t have time for that,” you answered. Not giving him a chance to ask more questions, you sped off towards your garden, praying that no one tries to follow you. You’ve had to drag Luffy back into the water on multiple occasions when he attempted to come after you and got too dried out from being out of the water. Much to your dismay, he took this as a sign of friendship and not just basic human decency.
As expected, the garden was in ruins. Your heart sank at the unfortunate sight. After removing all the debris thrown onto it by the storm, you saw that nothing had survived. Everything was ripped up and destroyed. You felt sick to your stomach knowing how dangerous it was to lose this many crops. It was early enough into the season that you could replant it and still harvest them in time before winter, but that would require you going back to the mainland for more seeds.
You hated having to go back and be around so many people, but it had to be done. Maybe you could set sail tomorrow? If the merfolk were gone by then, of course. You don’t want them following you for the entire two day journey.
Since the garden is done for, looks like you’ll be doing some foraging today. After the roof repairs. Those definitely take precedent here. Sighing, you turn and make your way back to your home. It’ll probably take most of the day to finish it based on how bad it was leaking last night. Your home was within eyesight of the shore, which meant that the merfolk were going to be trying to talk to you the whole time. How annoying.
As you get closer, you’re confused to hear what sounds like hammering. Where is that noise coming from? Picking up the pace, you hurry to the source and see that it’s coming from your house. Looking up, you see the colorful form of Franky crawling over what once was your roof and hammering on new planks of wood. Beside your home was a pile of discarded roofing tiles and wood.
All you can do is gawk at him while your brain tries to process what he’s doing. The large mantis shrimp notices your presence and stops what he’s doing to wave at you, “Oh hey! I saw that your roof was all messed up so I thought I’d fix it for you! At first I was just going to retile it, but then I saw that the rafters were damaged too, so I’m rebuilding all of it. Don’t worry, I’ll have this finished before it’s night.”
With that said, he went back to work. You didn’t know what to do or say about this. Given that your entire roof was now ripped off, you didn’t exactly want to tell him to stop. As much as you don’t want him to be doing this, it felt too late to keep him from it now. You’ll just have to let it go. Also where in the same hell did he get lumber and roofing tiles from? You doubt you’ll ever know.
Hazarding a glance to the shore, you can see the rest of them relaxing. Nami is currently laying on the shore and sunbathing with Robin reading a book next to her. Luffy is dangling from a tree hanging over the ocean trying to grab some fruit from the higher branches while Usopp and Chopper egg him on. 
Oh good, he’s occupied and hasn’t noticed you. Grabbing a basket from outside your house, you run into the forested area of the island to forage. You’re hoping that if you stay out long enough that they’ll be gone by the time you get back. You’ll need to gather at least enough food to last you on your voyage to get seeds.
Lucky for you, the food on this island was plentiful. Between you being the only person on the island and the minimal animal life, there were plenty of fruits and root vegetables to choose from. You could hunt for birds too, but usually you got your protein from fish.
The foraging was going well, but the heat was starting to get to you. Today was not only hot, but also humid and you felt like you were suffocating. Sweat was pouring down your back as you pulled yourself up the tree to grab some fruit. You wanted it to be a little under ripe so that it would ripen up during your journey. Your basket was hung up on a lower branch for you to drop your findings into.
After dropping the last of the fruit you found into it, you slumped against the trunk of the tree. You wanted to do more foraging, but this heat was becoming too much for you. All of the sweating had made you dehydrated, too. If you don’t head back soon you’ll be putting yourself at risk of a heat stroke. 
Nodding to yourself, you climb down and grab the fruit basket. It’s full enough that you’re content to call it a day. You can only hope that the merfolk have left by now, but at this point you don’t care. You just want to drink something.
Your house comes into view and you’re pleasantly surprised to see the roof is finished and Franky is nowhere to be seen. Despite your annoyance at him inviting himself to work on it without your permission, you have to admit that his handiwork is impeccable. The roof looks noticeably nicer than the rest of the house, and there is a large blue star painted onto the front of it.
Where he got the paint from is beyond you. Probably from wherever he pulled the lumber out of if you had to guess.
Before you could go inside to get something to drink, someone calls for you. Your head hangs and you groan. You’re in no mood to deal with any of them right now. Why must they insist on bothering you again?
Looking to where the voice came from, you see Sanji pulling himself across the sand with one hand while holding a coconut in the other. Admittedly, you’re impressed at how well he’s able to do that. As he pulls himself closer, you see that the coconut is open on the top. 
“I’ve been looking for you! I made everyone some drinks and wanted to give you one too!” Sanji thrust the coconut towards you and watched expectantly.
Setting down your basket, you hesitantly eye up the drink. It looks like a mixture of various fruit juices mixed together in the coconut. Normally, you would never even consider taking anything from these people, and have turned down food from them on multiple occasions.
Right now, though? That looked like the most refreshing thing in the world and your throat was screaming for something to drink. It couldn’t hurt to accept it just this one time, right? What’s the worst that can happen?
Reaching out, you take it from Sanji’s hand, “Thank you, this looks really good.”
Sanji beams at you while you take your first sip. It’s delicious, and the one sip turns into you gulping down the rest of it in a matter of seconds. The tropical fruity drink felt like heaven going down your parched throat. 
Sanji is still laying in the sand by your feet. His chin is propped up on his hands and he’s smiling at you while his long tail swishes behind him. Oh, he must be waiting to hear your opinion on it. It would be rude to ignore him after accepting the offering. “That was really good, thanks for that,” you answered simply.
“Do you want more? I made plenty! If you come with me to the shore I’ll refill it for you,” his hopeful smile almost made you cave, but no. You couldn’t give them an inch because you know they’ll take a mile if you do.
“That’s alright, I’ve got to get some things done around the house. Thanks, though,” you tried your best to let him down gently. 
Instantly, his whole demeanor drooped, but he didn’t move to leave. Maybe he was hoping to make you sway if he looked at you with his kicked puppy face long enough. Guess that means you’ll have to leave first. Fine by you.
You spin on your heel to do just that, but stumble. That’s weird. All you did was turn around but you’re so dizzy that you’d think that you just spun in circles for a minute straight. Your vision started to blur as a horrifying realization dawned on you. 
He drugged your drink, and you fell for it hook, line, and sinker. 
In a last ditch effort to get away, you attempt to get into your home and lock the door. This amounts to nothing because you collapse after the first step. Your fingers dig into the sand uselessly, your arms didn’t have the strength to pull you forward. You weren’t even that far from the door, it was just barely out of reach. What a cruel joke.
Vaguely, you can hear motion behind you and feel someone pulling on your ankle. You can make out several voices, but your mind is too hazy to put any names to them. Boisterous laughter is the last thing you hear before everything fades to black.
Apparently, this was the worst thing that could happen.
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sweetracha · 7 months
Note
Sigh.. so I know you probably have so many Felix request coming in butttt.. I wanted to ask if you could Felix with a s/o that falls into subspace easily (don’t judge me.. 😓) and Felix guiding them through it? Soft dom felix? (His insta live got me soft for him 😖)
(P.S Im a shy annie and since I chat on your blog the most I’m only brave enough to ask you 😤)
-☁️
Oh my little cloud!!!! Don't be shy sweetie! I'm right here, I won't bite! You can always talk here! and there is never any judgment in the bakery!
Felix was well aware of your tendency to fall into subspace. Honestly, it was one of the parts he loved most about you.
The first time it happened he stopped the session to bring you out of it. Afterward, you two had a long discussion about the situation. He wanted to make sure you were okay with the session continuing while you were in his headspace. The pride that filled his chest when you agreed made him want to cry. You trusted him enough to have him see you at your most vulnerable. You knew Felix would care for you.
"Shhh baby, so close now. Just let go for me, princess. Let Lix take care of you." He whispered as he bound your wrists together behind your back.
"Lix, I--I…" You stuttered and mushed your words together.
"What is it baby, someone is already losing her words? She is already lost in that empty head of hers? It's okay baby. I know you are, that's why I am here to take care of you. Can I take care of you, baby?"
"Yes---please"
"So polite baby, always remembers her manners even when she is so deep down in her fuzz."
Felix was pulling your second orgasm of the night when he noticed a change in your eyes. Water brimmed the edges and threatened to spill over.
"Baby, I know you are so sweet right now. My soft little subby baby. Lix needs to know your color, okay?" He was met with a blank glass expression. A few gentle taps to your cheeks caught your attention.
"Color, my sweet girl"
"Gr--gre-green" It almost came out like a question.
"Are you sure baby? I need to know you understand what you are saying. If you say green, what does that mean" He made sure to keep a hand on you at all times, knowing skin-to-skin brings you back to reality.
"Means I am good. I feel good. Continue." While what you said was broken, Felix understood.
His cocked worked his way in and out of you. He liked keeping an eye on your face when you were in his headspace. It eased him knowing he could see your thoughts so clearly. Words were hard, but your face never lied.
"Fuck I can feel you clenching, wanna cum? Does the sweet girl wanna cum all over my cock? Be a good girl and finish. Do what you were made to do, baby. Please me."
He finished on your stomach not long after you came down from your high. When he came back, soft tears trickled down your face.
"shh baby, What is wrong my sweet girl?" Felix knew how emotional you could get once it was all done. He wanted to avoid you dropping.
"I'm not needed, Lix doesn't need me" You hiccuped
"Baby, is this because I said you were made to please me?" A soft nod came from you. "Baby that job isn't over. You please me every day, even by just being you! It doesn't mean you are my sex doll, okay? You are my sweet girl."
"Promise?"
"I promise baby. Can you do me a favor? Can you tell me where you are? Maybe tell me some things you see?" Felix wanted to ease you out of it, a harsh snap would be too much.
You answered his questions and it was like he could see the fog leave your eye.
"I'm back Lixie" you giggled "Enough with 20 questions"
"Okay okay, one more though. Bath or shower?"
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hirayaea · 24 days
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Seiya: Your emotions are spilling out.
Kinoa: You’re the same! You weren’t able to keep your cool when you met her, right?
Seiya: …
the jp lines differ so greatly from the eng lines in this part of the story; and to discuss it, we have to start with jeremiah’s voice acting
in the jp dub, when jeremiah meets mc, he’s so excited, then when mc thanks him he begins to sniffle, saying:
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Kinoa: No need to be so thankful. I never would have thought the day would come that I could be of service to you… huhu
the “huhu” there literally exists as 「ううっ」 which indicates sniffling/crying, and we can hear that clearly in the jp dub
after this, mc is kinda weirded about by how sincere jeremiah is, and this is the point where xavier steps between them and says something to the effect of: ‘ah, this guy is just overly friendly’
this is, of course, xavier’s way of covering up for jeremiah’s tears, because mc has absolutely no clue why jeremiah would be emotional about her
mc accepts this reason, and has that cute conversation with xavier where he gives her all the james bond stuff + flowers, and then she goes on her way
when she leaves, jeremiah and xavier have the conversation as seen at the start of this post
but in english, this is the conversation:
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first of all: I am very much aware that the main text is in cn, hence I’m not sure if, at this point, it’s just translator preference coming into play; but as I can only understand en and jp, I will focus on comparing those
I really don’t know why he says “it’s flawed” in the en version—it raises the question: what is flawed? mc’s presence? the plan? mc’s entry to the forbidden zone? it even makes less sense when jeremiah steers it back by asking if he was able to keep his cool when he met her. there’s no continuity to “it’s flawed”, but because jeremiah changes the topic, we accept it and the story goes on
now, if we go back above to the jp version, seiya uses the term 「綻びだらけ」 —which is a actually a very nuanced phrase. it usually means “full of tears” or “full of open seams”, but it can mean “full of emotions that broke through” or “being unable to keep emotions in” such as suddenly being unable to help but smile or cry
we use jeremiah’s voice acting and his response to identify our nuance. jeremiah was sniffling, then he replies 「お前も」 to seiya, which basically means “you too”, followed by the line “you weren’t able to keep your cool when you met her, right?”
so it only makes sense that the meaning of 「綻びだらけ」 here is being unable to keep emotions in, as both of them accuse each other of being emotional when they first meet mc, but they’re supposed to be not (because of their secret + non intervention policy)
it’s interesting also how in jp, jeremiah is certain seiya wasn’t able to keep his cool, as he phrases his sentence in an accusing manner; but in en, he asks it like a knowing question
honestly, in the end, the overall storytelling is the same, but I feel like due to the conversation, the subtleties of jeremiah’s character as both mc and xavier’s best friend is more pronounced in the jp version
again, just thought I’d share my thoughts on this!
/
ofc this post is for @skynapple as she made a post recently about jeremiah’s role in xavier’s life
/
source: main story
disclaimer: i am not a native jp speaker but i have studied it formally + lived in jpn! but if you see anything that needs to be corrected I’ll be glad to learn and discuss it! thank you!
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nanamimizz · 10 months
Text
tags: wc: 600 sfw, gn reader, reader is getting older, crying,established relationship, mention of death and morality. angst and fluff. @itoshisoup for you miss mao.
synopsis: the woes of mortal life catch up to you, and you can't help but worry about what happens when you are no longer there.
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You had found a gray hair.
That’s what started it all - Zhongli had come home late to your shared home with it all dark, not even the front lamp lit. He finds you in bed, wrapped in sheets and quilts as if to hide from the world. He sits on the side of the bed your body isn’t curled against and places his non-gloved hand on the formation of your head. The darkened flesh pulses with the energy of geo and the lines are the only light in the dim room.
You call his name and it’s muffled, but he is quick to affirm that yes, he is here. You take your head out of the blankets and he finds you with tear tracks and mussed hair.  Orange eyes goal like coals and soften as he looks at the mess you’ve made of yourself. Zhongli asks what’s wrong and fresh tears spring from your eyes.
“I’m getting older.” You say and something in the orange of Zhongli’s eyes softens from cor lapis to a flame, Zhongli is filled with some sort of melancholy at your despair.
“You are human my dear, it is how it must be.” You sniffle, wiping your nose with the back of your hand when a tear rounds down the edge of your nose. His hands come to hold the softest part of your face, just as his hands hold the softest parts of your heart.
“When I die, I won’t be with you anymore - what if,” You stumble over your words but manage to utter them with the comfort of his thumbs rubbing into the smooth panels of your face.
“What if when I die, you don’t remember me anymore,” you utter punctuated by another wave of tears that spill down your tears.
“That won’t ever come to pass my dear,” Zhongli says, his voice soft like the rumble of a lit hearth. Warm and kind, promising all sorts of comforts in the shape of teas and soups. You look at his red eyes and your own hands come to rest on his that still hold your face.
“If you could make me immortal - could you?” 
“No.” His answer comes swiftly and is as stern as stone. You deflate and hurt paints your face as his refusal but his hands anchor you in the moment rather than what you feel.
“Why not?” You feel like some sort of child asking for something that they can’t have and an emotion you can’t describe flashes across Zhongli’s handsome face. Pain, grief, jealousy, and acceptance dance in the embers of his eyes.
“Your human life is among the richest and most profound things in the world. It will give you more happiness than anything. You are so fortunate to be born a human and to have a mortal life.” He says and it’s like his words are gospel and the fog of your despair of events not passed is blown away; you understand why out of all beings in the vast history of Liyue he was the most followed and praised. You nod, following along with what it is he says.
“One day, you will die and I will be the one to bury your body. And I will envy the earth that wraps around you.” He reassures you and you let him press his lips to your forehead and from his lips he rests his own forehead on yours. Even with touch alone, you can feel the difference in your bodies - his weight, his warmth is unnatural but it is yours all the same.
“I will never love another the way I love you. Never.” He murmurs into your skin and those glowing arms wrap around your form with the same devolution as the earth that would one day hold your body in a way Zhongli could not, but for some time.
For now, Zhongli will savor every moment he has with you, like shards that will be for the king of all jewels and that there will never be another.
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bellarkeselection · 4 months
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Request yellowstone Lee dutton
Reader is drunk and she calls her friend jamie to come pick her up jamie tells his dad and brother reader calls and needs to be pick up at a bar so lee and jamie go when they gets there some guy was hitting on her and Lee saves her and jamie being a lawyer threatens him
Dutton Boys Got My Back
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Sitting up at the bar I downed another beer and added it to my section of ones I had finished in the few hours I have been here. Tonight I needed a release from having a fight with my mother over the fact that I had stuck around with the Dutton family. She wanted me to leave Montana but I felt like I belonged here and nowhere else. “Can I get another Liam?”
“Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” The bartender asked me.
Shaking my head I snapped back. “Nah I don’t think so. Now get me another before I call my buddies.”
“Okay don’t start a fight in my bar.” He warned me walking away to get another beer.
Taking my phone out of my pocket I scoffed scrolling through my contacts until I found Jaime’s cell. We had been close up until his daddy had sent him off to become a lawyer. Now I knew if I ever got in trouble he’d bail me out. Hitting he call button I finished the remainder of my beer. “Hey Jaime…you working on any big cases?”
“Not tonight. What are you doing?” He asked me.
Slurring my words the bartender came back giving me my new drink. “Just having some drinks after fighting with my mother again this year. That women don’t understand my life…”
“How many drinks have you had?” He questioned me.
Sitting my beer bottle down I answered him back. “It don’t matter, Jaime. Just enough to know….have we ever gone out dancing together. We should do that tonight. Come and pick me up.”
“I’ll be there in a few.” He responded ending the phone call.
I wasn’t sure how long I had been sitting there but it was long enough to know I should’ve probably left hours ago. Half the time I came out to the bar with Beth. The other times it was rare if I got Lee and Jaime out and off that ranch for the night. Lee and I always have something more going on then what we are actually comfortable to admit to ourselves. I’ve had a crush on him for years and I’d be married to him if my mother would allow it. “Dutton’s mean nothing but trouble.” She’d say to me during some of our arguments.
“What’s a pretty gal like you sitting up here all alone. Drowning your emotions in alcohol is no way to go.” A random guy came up to me but he nearly collapsed on top of the bar top telling me he was more drunk then I was.
Taking a sip from my beer I sent him a smirk. “That’s none of your business, buddy.”
“It kinda is a part of my business. I wanna….spend a round with you.” He gets up close to me pushing his Boyd up against mine nearly spilling his drink in my lap.
Glancing up at him I shook my head knowing exactly what he wanted tonight. He was one of the guys that think they can sleep with any girl that by herself. Beth taught me how to deal with men like this. Getting to my feet I stared into his eyes. “I have no interest in you.”
“You don’t have to lie to me.” The drunk man said back to me, quickly grabbing me by my hips bringing me close against his chest and I couldn’t move since my back was pressed to the bar top behind me. “You want this as much as I do.”
Gripping the bottle in my hand I throw it over his head and he stumbled backwards. “You little bitch!”
He moved forward grabbing me by my shoulders shoving me against the hard wood behind me. I grunted feeling my arms get some cuts on them from how hard he pushed me. He got in my face and I bared my teeth trying to fight him when he slipped a hand underneath my shirt. I screamed hitting his chest but he slapped me across the face. He would have done it a second time if someone hadn’t yanked him back by the collar of his jacket. “Why don’t you keep your hands off of her.”
“I wasn’t doing anything wrong.” The drunk guy grumbled to the guy.
Blinking my eyes I sniffed through some tears recognizing the cowboy that had stepped in and protected me. “Lee, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”
“Why don’t you get your hands off of me, cowboy. I ain’t done anything wrong…because she enjoys being around me.” The stranger got up in the oldest Dutton’s face.
Lee glanced in my direction. “Why’d you hit him, darling?”
“Tried to get handsy after I told him I wasn’t interested.” Crossing my arms over my chest I answered his question.
“Did you hear that, brother?” Lee called over his shoulder allowing me the chance to see his brother Jaime come inside the bar. He was dressed in his suit and tie looking like he didn’t belong there. Yet either way I was happy to see my friend knowing he would fix this without anyone beer bottles to the head.
He nodded in agreement. “Sure did. I’ll take it from here. Who’s the more intoxicated one here?”
“He is. I told him I wasn’t interested and he still came on me.” Pointing my index finger at the drunk.
Jaime made a noise. “I’d suggest you leave this girl alone for the rest of the night. Unless you wish to be taken to court.”
“You can’t take me to court.” He says.
Lee and I glanced at one another with Jaime closing the gap between them almost completely. “I’d advise you choose your next words carefully. sir. My father owns the largest ranch in the state and this girl you think is here for some fun is a very close friend of ours. And I can smell alcohol and see some cuts on her arm’s meaning you could be filed for public intoxication. Like I said go home and avoid trouble.”
“So I was told you asked for a ride home. I’m here to pick ya up, darling.” Lee shrugged his shoulders at me once the drunk had stumbled off somewhere else making it just the three of us.
Grabbing my jacket I closed the gap between us leaning up on my toe’s taking him by surprise. “I appreciate it, Lee. Do me a favor and don’t think I’m doing this just because I’m a little tipsy. I….rather like you.” Leaning up on my toes I grabbed his collar drawing him down to me where I gave him a kiss rather quickly.
“What was that for?” He asked me turning a little red once we separated from each other.
Winking at him I walked through the door. “That’s a thank you for my Dutton boys coming to get me.”
“Take her to the truck and I’ll pay the tab.” Jaime told his brother at the same time that Lee scooped me up bridal style making me giggle at his actions. Wrapping my arms around his neck I laid my head on his chest.
Lee chuckled sitting his hat on top of my head carrying me outside to the truck. “If there’s more thank you’s like that one in the future I wouldn’t mind.”
“As long as your okay with my momma not liking you then we have a good chance.” I grinned at him where he helped me inside the passenger seat. He shut the door gently and kissed my forehead before I passed out waiting for Jaime to come outside so we could go home for the evening.
Lee brushed hair behind my ear he smiled lovingly. “We always come when somebody like you calls.” That was a very true statement since every time I called them they had come without a thought of hesitation because that is what family does for one another.
Comments really appreciated ❤️
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i-care-4u · 1 year
Text
FACE TO FACE | J.HARLOW
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PAIR: JACK HARLOW X ACTRESS!READER
REQUESTS ARE CLOSED | MASTERLIST
A/N: this fic is inspired by the couple quizzes on the gq youtube channel!
TAGGED: @livsters
-
cameras started rolling. you were holding a set of cards while opening up the given laptop to talk to jack on screen. right now, you were going to ask some questions to jack, who was going to be in front of your screen. it really wasn’t face to face like they said, but rather screen to screen.
you introduced yourself, “hi gq, i’m y/n l/n, and today i’ll be asking one of my biggest fans a series of questions.”
meanwhile, jack got all giggly, excited to answer the questions that his girlfriend provided. he pretends to pick up the phone, “what’s up [nickname]?”
“hello mister harlow!” you chuckled at both jokes.
jack began conversation by asking the basic, “how are you doing today?”
“i’m doing great, what about you?”
“if you’re feeling great, then i’m feeling great also.”
you switched the conversation by bringing the main topic of the video, “good. okay, so i got to ask you some questions.”
“got it.”
-
☆ FIRST QUESTION - “WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE CURSE WORD?”
“probably fuck.” jack giggled at his answer, which later spread onto you. his answer reminded you of that clip featuring miranda cosgrove. although the clip was recorded, the editors had to bleep out the word due to monetization reasons. it sounded a bit more silly in the final version.
you pretended to be shocked by his answer, “i was about to say the same thing,” you explained, “there’s just so much emotion just by using those four letters.”
jack nods in agreement, “right. like you could accidentally spill a glass of milk and be like fuck.”
☆ SECOND QUESTION - “WHAT’S THE HARDEST PART ABOUT WORKING WITH ME?”
“i think the hardest part about working with you is not laughing the entire time. like you forget that you’re at work and not listening to a comedian’s private show.”
“i know, but it’s understandable,” you said, “it’s hard not to have fun when you’re around someone you love.”
☆ THIRD QUESTION - “WHAT IS YOUR SELF-CARE ROUTINE?”
jack had his hand resting on his chin, smirking. “resting with the best.”
you sarcastically rolled your eyes at jack. “baby, we’re talking self-care here!”
“my self-care routine consists of taking a bath, taking care of my hair, taking care my skin, making sure that i’m looking clean.” jack showed his clear and fresh manicure. “also getting a fresh trim and manicure if i can.”
you awed at him. “the manicure part was my idea, by the way.”
☆ FOURTH QUESTION - “LAST PURCHASE UNDER $20?”
you were already thinking about his answer, and it caused jack to laugh. you obviously had to joke about it. “let me guess, condoms?”
surprisingly, jack shook his head. he truthfully answers, “surprisingly, not this time. the last purchase under 20 was a set of tank tops. i believe they were 15 bucks.”
you scoffed, “yeah right.”
“you know what?” jack paused and remembered his last purchase. “forget about the tank tops. my last purchase under 20 dollars were a party sized bag of doritos.”
you got closer to the camera, pretending to hold a private conversation, “doritos, please don’t cut ties with us.”
☆ FIFTH QUESTION - “WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE OUTFIT OF MINE?”
“my favorite outfit of yours?” jack repeated the question. he started to think of the many outfits that you wore over the years. he had plenty of them in mind but for today, he could only say one.
“i’m going with the red carpet look from cannes film festival.”
you wore a schiaparelli dress, and the accessories is what brought jack’s attention. you were surprised by jack’s response. you could’ve thought of another look, but it was a fan favorite after all. “the one from last year?” you asked jack.
“yeah, i liked it,” jack smiled, “what’s wrong?”
you shook your head, “oh nothing. i’m just surprised that you picked that one out of all my other looks.”
“well, i had a list of favorites, but i thought i only had to go with one, so i chose the schiaparelli look.”
“say, you got a list?” you placed your hands on your chin, striking the beth harmon pose, “tell me.”
jack lightly chuckled and began listing his favorite looks of yours. “okay-”
you reacted shockingly, “damn, you really listed an entire catalog of mine!”
“it’s the stylist’s fault for picking the good ones for you.”
☆ SIXTH QUESTION - “WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE SHOW TO BINGE?”
jack started reminiscing about the shows he used to binge, “i watch a lot of tv, and y/n knows that i’m inconsistent when it comes to these series.”
you agreed, “right. do you have a favorite, however?”
jack removed the toothpick from his mouth, “right now, i have to go with entourage on hbo.”
you smacked your lips, “there’s something about hbo series that seem more enjoyable than other services.”
☆ SEVENTH QUESTION - “WHAT IS YOUR GO-TO FILM?”
“there’s a lot of options when it comes to film, but right now, probably brokeback mountain.”
you were in the film industry, so you were aware of a lot of films. prior to acting, you were a film fanatic, going to the theaters during release day whenever you had a chance.
of course, you had your influences growing up. one of your inspirations growing up was the cast of brokeback mountain, which included heath ledger, jake gyllenhaal, and anne hathaway.
“i have a fun fact about brokeback mountain,” you began giving a backstory, “it was one of the first movies that got me into acting.”
the words that came out of your mouth made jack fall for you even more. he didn’t know about this piece of knowledge until now. he starts telling how you mean so much to him to the people the film crew that were in the background. “when i say this girl is my dream girl, she is my dream girl.”
☆ EIGHTH QUESTION - “WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE FILM BY ME?”
“on the topic of films,” you picked up the card with the question on it, “what is your favorite film starring me?”
“starring you…” jack repeated that phrase, blanking out in front of you as he sets all of your filmography in his head.
since you were a critic’s darling, jack had some favorite films in mind. “i loved your performance in knives out and bones and all. oh, and the recent puss in boots movie? our future kids is going to love it!”
you laughed at his heart warming comment. “gee, i hope so…”
☆ NINTH QUESTION - “WHAT WOULD YOU DO IF YOU WERE ME FOR A DAY?”
jack rubbed his hands. “this is a tough one.”
he goes, “all of a sudden, i’m y/n l/n for a day. for a day off, i would probably pick up a camera and film a sweet little video featuring my sweet boyfriend.”
it was very thoughtful of him to bring up your passion of filming. since you were a busy woman, you felt like there was little time for you to pick up an extra hobby. sure, you might play the piano or be on the studios with jack on another day, but having time for something else wasn’t on your schedule.
“any extra details you want to add, y/n?”
“the setting takes place in our kitchen, keeping it cozy there.”
you hummed, “very.”
he mentions one last detail. “oh, and my sweet boyfriend is making food.”
your face changed from being relaxed to you laughing, knowing jack’s cooking skills. “and that’s where i end the video.”
☆ TENTH QUESTION - “WHAT ADVICE WOULD YOU GIVE TO EVERYONE RIGHT NOW?”
jack made a frowning face. “what kind of advice? relationship? career?”
you picked up the card again, reading every single detail of that question. “it doesn’t specify what kind of advice, so i assume any.”
“i have this one advice that came from my dad,” jack quotes, “every decision can alter your whole life path, so it’s crucial you make good ones.”
“well said,” you tell jack, “everyone in here, take notes.”
-
the tenth question of the interview was already answered, marking the end of the video. the directors yelled “cut” from both rooms, but you two had to stay for one last message.
jack starts, “if y’all want to see the other way around, go to vogue.com to see me ask y/n these questions face to face.”
“thank you to gq for being involved in this conversation between jack and i. thank you for watching!” you blew a kiss in front of the camera. the video cues to a white screen, placing the names of the people involved.
the cameras got everything, so you two were free to leave the studio. before you left the room, you talked to jack on the laptop five minutes after the interview ended.
“what do you want to do after we finish the interview for vogue?”
“you want to have a commentary on brokeback mountain?”
“i’d love that,” you smiled, “i’ll make dinner too.”
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